Broken Road (16 page)

She called him from a pay phone outside of the Grab N Gas on the edge of town. She’d been staying at the motel in Broken Bow for a about a week and had taken some time to think. Running away from the media coverage, the affair with Jon or the problems with her son Callan wasn’t the answer to the question burning inside of her. The truth was that whether she wanted to admit it or not what she wanted to know, what she
needed
to know was what really happened on that road outside of Baghdad the day Shane called her. That was the only thing that would give her peace. But she also knew that the only way to find that peace would be to find the man who witnessed Shane’s last moments on that road- Army Specialist Riley Favreau. It meant doing what she promised herself she would never do again- contacting Jon Procter and even worse-asking him for one more favor. How would he react? She had refused to acknowledge they even knew each other at the funeral, ended the affair and finally run as far from him as she could to protect herself and her boys from any more grief.

“Hello?” The sound of his voice soothed her and she couldn’t
 
help it. She wanted to tell him where she was, apologize for everything that had happened and have him tell her that everything was going to be okay. Instead she froze unable to speak into the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Jon?” She finally managed to sputter.

“Brenda? Where are you?” He sounded worried and upset.

“Jon, I don’t have much time.”

“Do you know how worried I’ve been? You just disappeared without telling anyone!”
Without telling you.

“I’m sorry. Look I need your help.” There was silence before he spoke again.

“What happened? Why wont you tell me where you are?”

“It’s complicated. Besides, we agreed that it was over.”

“No.
You
decided it was over. Do you have any idea what it’s been like not knowing if you were okay?”

“I’m sorry. Really I am. But I need your help. Will you help me or not?”

“Will you tell me where you are?”

“I can’t. Not just yet.”

“Brenda. How do you expect me to help you when you won’t even tell me where you are?”

“It’s not that kind of help, Jon. I need information.”

“Information? What kind of information?”

“What do you know about the soldier who was on the road with Shane?” She heard him sigh.

“I know as much as everybody else. He’s in a hospital somewhere still recovering.”

“What hospital?”

“Brenda, why do want to know?”

“I need to see him, Jon. I need to talk to him.”

“Brenda-“

“Jon, I need to know. . .”

“Know what?”

“What really happened out there that night.”

“Don’t do this to yourself. Come home. We can talk about it.”

“I want to talk to him, Jon. He’s the one who has the answers.”

“No one knows what shape he’s in Brenda. For all you know he may not even remember what happened.”

“You’re right. But until I know that’s the case I need to see it for myself.”

“What do you want me to do, Brenda?”

“I know you have contacts in the DoD, Jon. Please find him and let me know where he is.”

“Even if I could talk to someone about it the information would probably be classified.”

“Jon. ..”

“It won’t change what happened- not to Shane and not between us. You understand that right?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause before Jon spoke again.

“If I do this will you come home?” She could hear the pleading in his voice and she wanted to say yes but it would have been a lie.

“I can’t promise you anything.” That was the truth.

“Neither can I.” He said and she regretted making the call.

“I’m sorry about everything, Jon.”

“That’s the problem, Brenda. I’m not. I’m not sorry.” Another long pause.
 

“I have to go.”
 

“Don’t go, please. Look, I’ll see what I can do. But I mean it when I say it’s a long shot.”

“Does that mean you’ll try?”
 

“Yes, I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Jon. I’ll call back soon.” She said and hung up before he had a chance to say anything else.
   
A
 
storm had rolled in and the rain had begun to fall harder as she came out of the phone booth, soaking her to the bone. She stretched her thin jacket around herself and ran toward the car. Once inside she had a hard time distinguishing between the rain and the tears in her eyes.

“I want to talk to Dr. Nadeem.” Riley was at the nurses station. The group session made up of veterans had been too much for Riley. Hadn’t Louis seen what happened? They recognized him. How could he possibly open up to a group like that? It had been a disaster. Whatever hope for anonymity and peace he might have had at the hospital was gone now.
 

“The doctor is doing his rounds. What did you need to see him about?”

“I just need to see him. Can you page him?”

“I suppose I could. It may take a while.” The nurse said and picked up the phone next to her.
 

“That’s fine. I’ll wait in my room.” Riley said and headed back in that general direction. After an hour or so a nurse came to get him and a few minutes after that he found himself back in Nadeem’s office.

“Riley,you wanted to see me.” Dr. Nadeem said sitting back in his leather chair. Riley’s throat felt dry and he found it difficult to say what had been so clear to him in his mind not more than an hour before. He swallowed hard.
 

“What,” he cleared his throat, “what do I need to do so I can go home?” There was a pause before Nadeem leaned forward, propped his elbows on the desk between them and smiled.

“Thank you for asking.” Nadeem replied.
 

“Sure.”

“It really depends on you. Do you think you’re ready to leave?” Riley sighed, why was everyone so set on him being
ready
?
“

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“What’s your plan?”

“My plan?” Riley repeated uncertain of what Nadeem meant.

“In sessions we’ve talked about having a plan. One that you can use to keep yourself on track, especially when things get tough.”

Riley racked his brain for this
plan
Dr. Nadeem was talking about. He probably should have paid more attention during those group talks.
 
Nadeem waited. Riley kept thinking.
 

“All right. Well, the plan is something that you’ll always be working on. What I’m more concerned with are the basics. Where are you going to live?”

“My grandfather has a house where I was living before I came here.”

“Okay, what about a job?”

“I’ll be working the farm and I have some VA benefits.”
 
There was another long pause.
 

“What about your PTSD?”

“My what?”

“Your post-traumatic stress disorder?” Now it was Riley’s turn to remain silent. “We talked about this Riley. I’m sure your caseworker has too.”
 

“It’s fine.” Riley said in barely a whisper.

“You’ve been taking medication here in the hospital. Will you continue to take it when you go home?” Nadeem looked at him intently as he waited for an answer. The truth was that Riley hated the medication. He had no idea what it was. They had
 
probably told him every time before he took it but there came a point where he just didn’t care. He wasn’t sure what exactly the pills were supposed to be doing.
 
They would put him to sleep each night but he still had the nightmares. The medication just wouldn’t allow him to scream so anyone could hear him. It numbed him but he still
felt
everything
he just didn’t care
. Riley fidgeted with the ties on his bathrobe before he nodded in answer to Dr. Nadeem’s question.
 

“Will you?” Nadeem repeated the question.
 

“Yes.” Riley promised. Dr. Nadeem nodded his own approval before opening one of his desk drawers and taking out a set of papers. He started to write.
 

“Is that it?” Riley asked. “You’re going to let me out?”

“Yes. I am.”

Riley didn’t know whether to be relieved or to start to panic.
 
He had already made plans in his own mind that once they released him he was going to go somewhere besides Bess. He wasn’t sure how he would do it but what did it matter? Riley didn’t have a way to get back to Bess anyway since they brought him to the hospital. But he wasn’t above walking to the nearest shelter or camping out somewhere if he had to.
 

“Can I go?” Riley wasn’t sure Nadeem was telling the truth.
 

“Yes.” Nadeem answered and kept writing. Riley exited the doctor’s office and headed back to his room. He couldn’t believe he was finally going to be free of this place. He wanted to start gathering everything he had as soon as possible. Riley started in the bathroom. There wasn’t much but the small hospital issued bar of soap and toothbrush they gave each patient that seemed harmless enough.
 
He stared into the highly polished metal oval that hung above the sink that was meant to serve as a mirror. The only difference being that it wasn’t made of glass so no one here could break it and use it to harm themselves. It was all part of a theme that came with being here.
 
Paper bags were used for trash bags because you could use the plastic ones to suffocate yourself, no cords on the window coverings, no shoes with laces, a spork instead of a knife or a fork and no razors which is why he was looking at nearly a full beard in the distorted reflection of the pseudo mirror in front of him. He took off the robe he’d put on over the hospital issued scrubs that he wore each day and put it in the dirty laundry receptacle. He tugged at the material. He had no idea what he was wearing when they brought him in and since he had refused to see anyone from back home he was fairly certain he had nothing to wear when he got out. Maybe they had a lost and found or a Goodwill nearby. Riley figured he would worry about it later. He made his way back out of the bathroom and looked around. There wasn’t much to gather from the room he’d spent the three weeks in. All it had in it was an adjustable hospital bed, a nightstand, a tv attached to its stand by heavy bolts and a large metal coil that prevented anyone from picking it up and throwing it he supposed. There was also a small desk against the wall with a cork board hanging over it but nothing to hang anything with. Tacks weren’t allowed. It had the semblance of a room but sometimes it did feel like a prison and although he had heard from others that his accommodations were amongst the best in the building, he knew he would still prefer laying on top of an old blanket in the back of his old truck, looking up at the sky framed by a sapphire dome of stars during a cool September night back home with Misty nestled into his side. He felt a familiar stab of pain and shook off the memory. He wondered if he would ever find a sky so beautiful anywhere else. It was hard to see the stars from the small windows of the hospital. They seemed muted and dull.
 
Louis said it was because they weren’t far from the city. The lights of a city always eclipsed the stars, that’s what his mother used to say before she took him to Bess to live with his grandparents. He’d never seen a sky so wide, so blue, so serene reaching unobstructed from one end of the horizon to the other as far as the eye could see. How could he walk away from that and never go back? He had to. What other choice did he have? Live his days out in the farmhouse with Old Jimmy, tending cows, watching Brandon and Misty’s children play in the same park where he’d discovered his world was made up of lies? Going to church on Sundays and pretending to pray to a God who would actually
forgive
him for what he’d done? Eating Doreen’s fried chicken down at the café while everybody stared at him with pity and whispered behind his back?
 
Meeting the old timers down at the Grab N Gas for coffee and a roll as they talked about the weather, the crops and which one of them would kick the bucket next? Did Dr. Nadeem think it was that
easy
to pick up the pieces of a broken life and put them back together? He had clearly never served, never seen the outcome of an IED attack. There were no pieces just a smattering of guts and charred metal all fused together lying on a dusty road going nowhere. That’s how he felt. That’s who he was just a pile of guts and metal charred beyond recognition. Riley could never go home again. He sat down on the bed. As weird as it might sound to anyone if he had chosen to tell them he was going miss these four walls. They didn’t care if he talked or screamed. They kept everybody out and him in so he couldn’t hurt anybody else.

“Hey.” Louis was standing in the doorway. He was carrying a large paper sack.Riley hadn’t even heard him. He stood up not sure whether to ask him to sit down or just be quiet. He chose to be quiet. Would Louis talk to him about what had happened during the vet’s group? Riley hoped not. He wasn’t interested. It wasn’t the same what happened to him. They didn’t have their faces plastered all over the internet, the news and the papers showing them during the very worst moment of their entire lives, while the 24-hour news channels replayed his moment in hell over and over. Each angle of the picture dissected along with his life for everybody to see but no one willing to listen. Telling him he was crazy and a hero all at the same time. They were the crazy ones. They could have it their post-traumatic stress disorder shit and their Purple Hearts. They could stick their exclusive interviews were the sun didn’t shine and choke on their parades, he didn’t want any of it. Not anymore.
 

“I heard you were getting out.”

“Yeah.”

“Congratulations.” Louis came in the room and pointed to the desk chair. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“No, go ahead.”

“I just got the word from Dr. Nadeem. So I’ll get some of your other paperwork drawn up to go along with what the nurse will bring you
 
for your discharge and you’ll be on your way.”