The War Within (12 page)

“Good job,” Lt. Col. Daniels said. Meredith had been so busy tending to the injured she hadn’t noticed the LTC in the crowd. She almost cried when she saw her standing on the sidewalk safe and sound instead of rotting in a jail cell. “Even though you’re off duty, I plan on recommending each of you for a service medal.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Meredith felt like she was part of the smallest, most ragtag unit in the Army. She, George, and Robinson were covered in blood. Some of it was theirs; most belonged to the victims they had tried to help. By Meredith’s estimation, they had saved more than fifty people. Unfortunately, they might end up losing at least twice that number to the senseless act of violence that had ripped through the heart of the city.

“Get cleaned up,” Lt. Col. Daniels said. “And get someplace safe. If you can find one.”

“Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

Meredith and Robinson looked at each other but didn’t speak. What were you supposed to say at a time like this? For a night like this one, there were no words. Tears filled Meredith’s eyes, clouding her vision. Why were her emotions so close to the surface? Because of what she had just seen or because of what she was starting to feel?

“I think it’s time we officially called it an evening.” George swept Meredith into his arms. The soles of her feet stung from dozens of cuts. When she looked at the ground, she could track her movements by the bloody footprints she had left behind. “Are you coming with us, Nat?”

“Please do,” Meredith said. “I want to take a look at that cut.”

Robinson absently touched her forehead, then let her hand drop. “I’ll be fine. You’re worse off than I am.” She bent and examined the soles of Meredith’s feet. Her expression said she didn’t like what she saw. “Your feet are shredded and you have glass imbedded in the wounds. Do you have tweezers, George?”

“In my shaving kit back at the hotel.”

“Give me your kit. We need to do some minor surgery.”

“We? What do you mean we?”

George looked squeamish. Meredith flinched when he tightened his grip on her legs. Now that her adrenaline had stopped pumping, the pain had started to set in. Her feet and knees felt like they were on fire.

“Calm down. You won’t have to do anything more serious than carrying her upstairs and holding her hand. Can you manage that?”

George nodded fervently. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Then let’s go.”

With Robinson leading the way, George took Meredith to their hotel and carried her up all three flights of stairs to her room. He waited in the hall while Robinson helped her prepare to take a bath so she could disinfect the cuts. Robinson peeled off her bloodstained dress and helped her into the tub. Meredith sighed when she lowered her body into the warm water.

Robinson pointed to the other room. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”

When Meredith finished bathing and pulled the stopper in the tub, she saw streaks of pink spiraling down the drain. Her blood mixed with the water.

“Okay in there?” Robinson asked from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Yeah,” Meredith said shakily. “I’m fine.”

She dried herself off with a towel, pulled herself out of the tub, and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. After she pulled her nightgown over her head, she inspected her ruined dress. Tonight she’d worn it for the first and last time. She tossed the dress in the trash so she could begin to put the night behind her.

“Ready?” Robinson asked.

“Ready.”

After Robinson opened the door, George came inside and carried Meredith to the bed. Robinson turned the chair toward her and inspected her cuts like a jeweler examining a diamond for flaws. “They’re not as deep as I thought, but you’re going to have a hard time wearing shoes for a while.”

Meredith hissed in pain when Robinson used the tweezers to pull bits of glass from her knees and the soles of her feet. George offered his hand. Meredith clamped on to it like a lifeline. A connection was being forged in this room. A bond she didn’t think would ever break. She clenched her teeth as Robinson probed her wounds. “Someone tell me a story.”

“Like once upon a time and all that?” George asked.

Meredith flinched as Robinson retrieved another shard of glass. She didn’t know how much more she could take without crying, but she didn’t want her tears to be seen as a sign of weakness. “I don’t care. Just tell me something to take my mind off this.”

George shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know any fairy tales. There are some limericks I could recite, but they aren’t fit for mixed company.”

“Or any other kind, for that matter,” Robinson said.

“Can you do better?” George asked with a hint of challenge in his voice.

“I couldn’t do much worse.”

“Prove it then.”

“All right,” Robinson said thoughtfully as if she were searching her memory banks for a story that was most appropriate to the situation. “When we were little, my brother and I used to go barefoot all summer long. Our parents insisted we wear shoes to church each week so our fellow congregants wouldn’t think we were too poor to afford them. As soon as services were over, though, off they went. We wanted to feel the sand between our toes and the ocean on our skin. Shoes just got in the way.”

Meredith could practically smell the salt air. “I didn’t know you had a brother. Where’s he serving?”

“Paul got drafted, but he failed his physical. He hurt his foot one summer when I was twelve and he had just turned ten. Our uncle Raiford had a wind chime on his front porch. Every time we went to visit him, Paul liked to jump up and hit the chime with his hand to make it tinkle. This particular year, Uncle Raiford was having some work done on the porch. The contractor he had hired was good at what he did, but he didn’t like to clean up after himself. He had left some old boards lying around. After Paul jumped up and hit the chime, he landed on a rusty nail. He said it didn’t hurt, but he started crying when he couldn’t pull it out.”

“What happened?” Meredith asked, forgetting about the pain in her own feet.

“I went and got Uncle Raiford, who removed the nail and fired the contractor. Aunt Celia put a penny and a piece of fatback on Paul’s foot because everyone knows that’s how to keep someone from getting tetanus.”

“Is that why Paul was marked 4F?”

“No, the nail cracked a bone in his foot. The bone didn’t heal properly. He didn’t realize it at the time and it didn’t stop him from playing football all through high school and college, but the Army docs didn’t think his foot would be able to hold up to all the miles of marching he’d be subjected to.”

Meredith looked at her own feet. Were her wounds severe enough to send her home or would she be able to continue her mission?

“Welcome to the war, Meredith,” Robinson said after she dropped the last piece of glass into the trash. “You’re a veteran now.” She tore a towel into strips and used them as bandages. “My job’s done. Take care of her, okay, George? I need to check on Huynh and Hoang.”

Meredith fought back tears as she reached for Robinson’s hand. “Stay with me. I don’t want you going back out there tonight. It’s too dangerous.”

Robinson looked down at their clasped hands as if she wasn’t used to being anyone’s cause of concern. She gave Meredith’s hand a quick squeeze and let go. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She rose from her chair. “Can I count on you to keep her safe, George?”

“I won’t let her out of my sight again. That’s a promise.”

“Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.” Robinson turned and waded into the crowd of frightened guests milling around in the hall. Meredith watched her swim against the current until she faded from view.

George turned back the covers. “Let’s get you to bed. For real this time.”

Meredith wearily laid her head on the pillow as George covered her with the sheet and bedspread.

“You got lucky,” he said. “You could have been killed tonight.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“Even so, I plan on sleeping in the hall tonight so you can’t sneak out again. If you want to play Florence Nightingale one more time, you’ll have to climb out the window. Unless you grow a pair of wings, I doubt you’ll be up to the challenge.”

“Don’t worry.” Meredith’s eyes began to close of their own accord. “I’m too tired to leave this bed.”

His voice softened as he backed off the hard line he had taken. “We can explore Saigon some other time. I’m taking you back to the base in the morning.”

Meredith forced her eyes open. “No, you aren’t. Robinson has the right idea. We can’t turn tail and run because of what happened tonight. Tomorrow, you’re going to take me shopping so I can buy a new dress.”

“You’re as crazy as she is,” he said with a shake of his head. “Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and returned to his room. After he left, Meredith tried to give in to her overwhelming exhaustion.

Every time she closed her eyes, her mind filled with visions of George and Robinson searching for survivors of the blast. Vivid images of them treating the living, consoling the dying, and paying respect to the dead.

She thought she’d be seeing a lot more of the affable man from Wisconsin. As she listened to the continuing sounds of chaos outside her window, however, she feared she might never see the willful woman from Georgia again.

Jordan felt like she was watching a war movie in which her grandmother had a starring role. When she was younger, she used to beg Grandma Meredith and Papa George to tell her stories about their adventures in the Army, but each had always found an excuse not to grant her request. Now Grandma Meredith was breaking the silence once and for all. The experiences she had undergone were worse than Jordan had ever imagined. How had she managed to return home without suffering any of the physical or mental injuries that had plagued so many of her fellow veterans? Nights like the one she had just described would have haunted Jordan for the rest of her life.

“Geez, Gran, you could have been killed.”

“You sound like your grandfather.”

“But it’s true.” Jordan took her eyes off the road long enough to sneak a peek at Grandma Meredith’s face. She looked so unruffled the story she had just told could have happened to someone else. “You could have died that night, and you sound so calm about it.”

Grandma Meredith looked down at her hands, which were primly folded in her lap. “I had my moments.”

“When?”

Grandma Meredith sighed deeply. She seemed almost ashamed to admit she was human, complete with all the requisite frailties and faults.

“I was in denial for days after the incident. I told myself I would be fine as long as I didn’t allow myself to feel the pain. I would be fine as long as I could remain numb and didn’t think about what happened. Alice was in dire shape, and those two nurses I’d served with in Okinawa were dishonorably discharged after news of their arrest became public knowledge. I didn’t see them get escorted off the base, but Lois couldn’t wait to tell me all about it. Two of our colleagues’ lives were ruined by someone’s prejudice, and she was practically gloating. It could have so easily been me being paraded around in handcuffs and locked in the back of a police van, but I couldn’t afford to empathize with them. I had to keep going. To keep moving. To pretend that night never happened. That it didn’t mean as much as it did.”

Grandma Meredith paused as if she had said too much, but she didn’t remain quiet for long.

“Reality hit me after I was transferred to Long Binh. I ended up in the infirmary because of the injuries to my feet, and all I could do when I was in there was think. As I lay in bed day after day, I started getting more and more depressed. When Natalie came to see me, I burst into tears the second she walked in the room.”

Jordan found it interesting Grandma Meredith alternated between referring to her former friend by her first and last names as if she couldn’t figure out if they were supposed to be close or estranged. They had obviously grown close at some point. Close enough to share a dance and, perhaps, a great deal more. What had happened to drive them apart, Grandma Meredith’s feelings for Papa George or Robinson’s feelings for her?

“When I saw her,” Grandma Meredith said, “I finally realized how close both of us had come to dying. If we had walked a little slower, we might have been in front of the Regency when the bomb went off. And if the building had collapsed while we were trying to save the people trapped inside, we would have been the ones in need of rescue. When the MPs burst through the door at Suzy’s, Natalie didn’t hesitate before she went out that window. She was willing to put her career on the line in order to save mine. I’ll never forget that.”

“I like this Robinson chick more and more with each passing mile. She’s a real badass. Both of you are heroes. You know that, right?”

“I didn’t take charge that night. I followed someone else’s lead. If anyone’s a hero, Natalie Robinson is. I’m not.”

Jordan should have known Grandma Meredith would play the modesty card. She always downgraded her achievements, no matter how large or small. But this one? This one was huge.

“Did Alice pull through?”

“Yes, thank goodness. She was shipped home as soon as she was well enough to travel. She had to undergo several surgeries and many, many months of rehab, but she was eventually able to get back on her feet. We’ve kept in touch over the years. She sends me a Christmas card each year, along with pictures of her grandkids and a family newsletter detailing the high points of the year. I return the favor, but her newsletter’s always a good bit longer than mine.”

“I’ll try to give you more to write about this year.”

Jordan didn’t often regret being an only child. When she was a kid, her parents had spoiled her to no end and bought her everything she wanted. As she grew older, however, she found it increasingly difficult to be the sole focus of their attention. When she screwed up, she had no one to blame but herself, which made her parents’ disappointment even more painful to deal with. Each time one of them gave her a classic “How could you” look, she longed for a brother or sister with whom she could commiserate.