Enemy: Part 2

Don't forget to vote in the poll.

***

A week later and I am carrying a box through a drab green hallway of the battalion transport.  Despite my reluctance to do what I was about to do my booted feet clank along the ill-fitting metal floor panels at a brisk rate.  I’d learned from experience that on a Marine ship if you looked like you had nothing to do something would soon be found for you to do.

The big steel doors for the med-bay hiss open and I step inside.  A nurse walking by stops and looks at my package.  “Delivery or visiting?”

“Visiting.”  I say.  

“Sign in is by the door.”  He says with a nod.  As I take the clipboard and sign my name he asks.  “Who are you visiting?”

“Elijah Jackson.  From Echo Company.”

“Yep.  Bay 7, Bed 10.”  He says as he takes the clipboard from me and signs beside my name.  With a glance toward the clock on the wall he adds.  “You’ve got an hour.”

“Thanks.”

I turn the direction the nurse indicates and take a deep breath before marching forward.  Along the way I pass by dozens of my fellow grunts, patients and visitors like me.  Some of them are sitting up in their beds reading or doing puzzles, some are sitting at bedsides and chatting their buddies up, and many more are simply sleeping the boredom away.  A bit more somber perhaps, understandably, overall though the mood wasn’t that much different than the rest of the ship.  Those in the most critical condition must have been in a different section.

As I turn into Bay 7 I see it only half full.  The four beds nearest the door were occupied.  One of the men had bandages over the top half of his head and the other three had received one form of amputation or another.  In the center of the room was a bucket catching a steady drip coming through a crack in the ceiling tiles.  All of the privacy curtains were open except for Bed 10 which was situated way down at the end half hidden by a bulkhead.  The overhead light there was dim and flickered sporadically.  I discover that the guy in Bed 1 was from my platoon.

“Raz!”  I greet him with a fist bump.  “Heard a booby-trap gotcha.”

“Hey Joe.”  He holds the bandaged stump that was his other arm up.  “Yeah, they got me good.  Last fucking day too.  Mother fuckers.”

“You on Gold coverage?”

“Sheeeeit.  I wish.”  He says.  “Nah, it’ll be a basic prosthetic for me.”

“Cheap bastards.”

We chat for a few minutes, comparing and contrasting the experiences of our different squads over the last few days of the war, before I down to the end of the bay.  “What’s goin on with Eli?”

“Eli?”  Raz scoffs.  “Is that his name?”

“Elijah, yeah.”

“That’s news to us.  Dude won’t talk to anybody.”

“Why’s he down there by himself?”

“He asked to be.”  Raz says.  “Echo Company?  More like Asshole Company.”  She shouts down the bay.  “We’ve all been through the shit asshole.  You ain’t special.”

“Jesus, leave him be.”  I say.  “His battalion shipped out without him.  He’s alone here.”

“Doesn’t mean he has to be an asshole.”

“Doesn’t mean you need to be either.”  I say.

“Pff.  How do you know him?”

“I met him once on R and R.”  I say, my lies now well rehearsed.  “And I was the one who found him.”  I hold up the box. “I figured he could use a friend.”

“Oh, well, tell it wouldn’t kill him to talk to us.  Huh?”

“Sure.”  How wrong Raz was.  One wrong statement by him and it very well could cost him his life.  Possibly mine now as well.  “Well, get better Raz.”

“Yeah, thanks man.”

I nod to the other three and walk down the center aisle to the dimly lit end.  I stand before the curtain a moment then open them just enough to step inside.

I find ‘Eli’ reclined and staring blankly up at the ceiling.  Just by the shape of the blankets at the foot of the bed I already knew that he’d lost both feet.  That was not a surprise given the condition I had found him in.  His blue eyes flit my way for an instant before looking away again.  After a moment they snap back to me and I see the glimmer of recognition.  That glimmer quickly turns into a boiling hatred.

“Hey.”  I say softly, closing the curtain behind me.  “Thought I’d come by and see how you’re doing.”

I felt like an idiot speaking with him so casually.  Right now he and I were the only ones who realized what I had done and just how tenuous our situation was.  He is still but I sense him seething with a barely contained rage.  I come up to stand on the right side of his bed.

“You recognize me I see.”

He says nothing though the pure loathing in his clear azure eyes burned a hole right through me.  His anger does nothing to dampen his effortless angelic beauty.  God how I wished that I could stop looking at him and thinking about him that way.  This was neither the time nor the place to be wrestling with such urges.

“Yeah.”  I say.  “I got us into a hell of a spot, huh?”  I felt pretty comfortable talking here.  Between the low constant thrum of the ship, the nattering buzz of the flickering light, and the clank and rattle of the pipes above us you’d have to be standing directly outside of the curtain to hear us.  “You’re, uh, looking much better.”

He tears his eyes from me to stare back at the ceiling.  His jaw clenches and his lips purse as he aggressively ignores me.

“I know.”  I sigh.  “I didn’t know what else to do.  I can’t even explain it myself.”

No answer.

“Um, the women and children from your community made it out okay.  They weren’t touched.”  I cough.  “I thought you’d want to know.”

No answer though the glow from his hatred burned even hotter.

I pull the chair behind me closer and sit down at his side.  “Ahem, I, uh, I brought you some stuff.”  I set the box on my lap.  “I figured you had nobody else so…ahem!”  I open the box.  “I got a couple of books from the library.  I didn’t know what you liked so I got some anthologies.  Poetry.”  I hold the first book up and set it on the side table.  “Mysteries.”  I put this one on top of the first.  “And Westerns.  Do you like Westerns?”

No answer.

“Right.  Um, what else do I have?”  I return my attention to the box.  “A deck of cards.  Crossword book and pencil, it’s only half filled out.  I’m shit at crosswords.  And, uh, some music.”  I put my aud-player and ear buds on the table with the rest.  “You’re stuck with my musical tastes I’m afraid.  We’re not allowed real electronics so I couldn’t get you any personal vid-players or games or anything.”

No answer.

I put the box down beside me and shift uncomfortably in my seat.  “Ahem.  So the bad news is we’re gonna be here awhile.  With the mass pull out the warp gate is backed up for at least a week and from what I’m hearing we’re near the back of the queue.”

No answer.

I lean back and rub my hands over my thighs to wipe my clammy palms.  I don’t know why talking to the man whose life I’d saved, at least temporarily, got me so nervous but it did.  It wasn’t fear, it was something else.  Something I hadn’t felt since…the first time I asked a girl on a date.  It was weird.

“So my name is Joseph.  Everyone calls me Joe though.”  I say.  “I was named after my Gran, Josephine.  I’m a Gliese boy, born and raised.”  I look down at myself, still thick built though far slimmer than when I’d left home.  “Can’t wait to get back and feel some proper G’s on my bones again.”

His jaw clenches and he lets out a hissing breath through flared nostrils.  A tear glimmers at the corner of his eye.

Christ.  Here I am talking about going home.  To him of all people!  Whether home or abroad I never seemed to miss an opportunity to put my foot in my mouth.

“Ahem!”  I clear my throat and thump my chest with my palm.  “Lungs are still a bit junky from the smoke.  How are yours doing?”

Nothing.

“Yeah.”  I shift and look around.  “It’s kind of gloomy back here.  You want me to talk to somebody about that light?”

I might as well be talking to the wall behind me.

“Okay.”  I fidget and shift.  “If you want to talk or anything I’m right here.”

He did not want to talk.

For the remainder of the hour we sit in uncomfortable silence.  I probably should have left him be but I hated the thought of him sitting alone in the dark back here.  Alone with his thoughts and fears and regrets.  I couldn’t imagine what would do to a person after awhile.  I wanted him to know that he had one person at least that he could reach out to, even if it was the enemy.

When my hour is up I stand and smooth my olive t shirt.  “I’ve gotta go.  They only allow me an hour at a time.”  I nod to the pile on his table.  “I hope those help a bit.”  He doesn’t even acknowledge me.  “Right.  I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Finally that gets a reaction from him.  He glares at me with violent intent in his gorgeous blue eyes.  He was absolutely no threat to me, we both knew that, but it still leaves me shook.

I straighten up and face him directly.  In a deep warm tone I ask him.  “What’s your name soldier?”

He sneers and shakes his head in disgust then returns to staring at that spot in the ceiling.

“See ya tomorrow.”

Part 3