Containment (20 page)

“Unfortunately for us, most of the other fellas were on the western side of the reservoir and we were on the eastern side. The Chinese decided to hit both sides at once. When you outnumber your enemy by more than two to one, attacking like that is possible. The first few hours on that first night were bad. I was in the First Battalion and further north than any other units. There were somewhere between three and four hundred of us in the line and we got hit by a few thousand Chinese infantry. They just poured out of the darkness like bad news and drove us back. Colonel Faith, our CO, was really the reason that more of us didn’t die on that first night because he was everywhere, telling us to keep our heads down but keep fighting. He just told us to hold until first light and then the air corps would come and kick some ass.

“Believe me, I forgot all about the cold on that first night. I was part of a Forward Observation team. It was our job to spot the enemy and then call for artillery support. We would use the radio to adjust their fire for better accuracy and effect. Because of this, we found ourselves higher than and more forward than most of the other units. Me, our officer, a Lieutenant Dan Greene, and Sergeant Ansel McGuire had been attached to an under strength infantry platoon. We were on a hill that had a good view of the roads and choppy fields approaching our positions. We called in fire all around us until we realized that we’d been cut off. That was a horrible feeling.

“Up to that point, the riflemen and machine-gun teams seemed to be holding the enemy at bay well enough to allow Lieutenant Greene to call in what they called danger-close fire support. Some of the explosions were so close that the heat was scorching the hairs in my nose. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be doing. Maybe I was just another set of eyes, I don’t know. What I can say is that I tried my best to be as small in my hole as I could get and stay out of the way of the bullets zipping by overhead. I only found courage to fire my rifle when Lieutenant Greene ordered me to do so and even then it wasn’t something that I jumped at doing. Hell, those crazy Chinamen were trying to kill me. I could hear it in their voices; they were that close. I popped up and just started pulling my trigger. I didn’t pick targets. I didn’t have to. They were pretty much everywhere and I don’t think they knew where I was at first. I shot until my rifle didn’t have any more bullets to shoot. I reloaded and did it again and again and again. I lost track of how many times I repeated the process. There just wasn’t time to think about things like that. I was probably making more noise than anything else. I couldn’t imagine being an infantryman, whose primary job was to be in those kinds of situations...hairballs we would call them...and then sort them out. No thank you.

“And then there was a blast so close by that it knocked my helmet clean off my head. It’s hard to describe those first few seconds immediately after. There was a ringing that wasn’t just in my ears. My whole head and even my chest were ringing. I had blood running down from my nose and out of my ears, but I wouldn’t figure either of those out for quite some time. I guess it’s fairly common to have that after suffering a concussion like I did from the explosion.

“Anyway, I looked up and the lieutenant was gone. He was just…gone. The radio was there on its side and still squawking, but the lieutenant had vanished without a trace. They never did find his body. Sergeant McGuire was hit too but he was still alive...for the time being. Shrapnel had hit him in the arm, chest, and face. He was bleeding pretty badly but when I tried to help him, he just pointed to the radio and told me to keep calling in fire.

“I grabbed the radio transmitter and tried to answer the questions that were coming through, but the ringing in my head made it nearly impossible. I could hear faint noises but couldn’t make out what was being said. I finally just told the other end that the lieutenant appeared to be dead and that I would continue to adjust fire.

“When the radio went quiet, I thought that would be the end for us. Luckily, the entire battle had moved on. It was like we were forgotten in the Chinese infantry’s haste to close with the main force’s position. There was still shooting and fighting, but it was well behind us by then. I can honestly say that I’ve never seen anything like what I was seeing all around our little hill when first light broke. The rocky fields all around us were carpeted with the bodies of dead Chinese soldiers. I don’t know how many I shot personally or how many were killed by the artillery that I personally directed. I felt sick all over though. Until recently, it was the closest thing that I’ve seen that resembled hell on earth.”

Charles paused and looked at Neil and Danny. He shook his head at the memory, as if he was seeing it all for the first time again. By this time, Meghan had joined them as well. She was standing next to Neil with her hand hooked under his crossed arm.

The old man looked at her and smiled warmly but then he looked embarrassed. Neil could tell that he wasn’t accustomed to talking about his experiences in the war at all and was even less comfortable talking about them in front of a woman, especially one he didn’t know.

With the smile still on his face, Charles looked at Meghan who, to Neil at least, seemed to be glowing in the sunlight. Neil could tell that Charles was seeing it too and was also aware that Charles could tell Meghan and Neil had become a couple. To acknowledge this fact, Charles looked at Neil smiled and winked.

“I didn’t realize that I had been monopolizing the conversation for as long as I had. Where are my manners? Your generosity must have just taken me by surprise. You always hear about disaster bringing out the worst in people. I have firsthand experience with it from back then. I guess that it’s still true as well that disaster can also bring out the best in others.”

Neil blushed and lowered his head until his chin rested on his chest. Meghan leaned over and whispered in his ear, “See, I’m not the only one who’s seen it.” She smiled and kissed his cheek lightly. This did nothing to diminish the bright red from his face. It wasn’t like Meghan to show any real affection in front of others. Truth be told though, Neil couldn’t imagine anything that could ever feel as velvety soft against his stubbly cheek as her lips did at that moment.

He looked back up at Charles who was watching Meghan walk away. He said to Neil, “You got it bad don’t you?”

Neil pointed his finger at himself and in a half-hearted show of being flabbergasted said, “Me? I don’t know what you’re—”

“Can it son. Remember, I’ve got a few years on you, so I know what to look for. And I looked the same way when Lucy used to kiss my cheek. So don’t try and convince me otherwise. Got it?”

Danny, who was still standing there, smiled and even giggled a little. He liked Charles and he liked Neil looking so happy. Danny also liked that he could stand there and be included in any conversation. It wasn’t anything like back home when the adults would stop speaking any time he would approach them. He was feeling more like one of the grown-ups every day.

He looked around at everyone in the yard. Jules was still over by the raspberry bushes along the fence. In the gold dress Charles had given her, Jules really did look like a princess. Emma had braided her hair and adorned it with some of the late blossoms from the flowers in Charles’ garden. He couldn’t hear her, but he could tell that she was singing something softly to herself. He wondered for a moment what would happen to Jules when they got back home. Would some distant relative come and take her away? He hated to consider that. He had grown very protective of her and was wondering if maybe she could just come and live with his family. Maybe there wouldn’t be anyone in her family who would want her. Maybe if he went home as a hero, he and Jules could just tell the authorities that she was going to stay with him. Maybe.

Claire had joined Jerry on top of the shed. She was sitting down with her arms behind her and her legs stretched out in front of her. Jerry was standing next to her and still scanning the neighborhood all around them. When Claire motioned to Jerry to sit next to her, however, he was quick to heed her command. Danny was starting to see the same expressions on Jerry’s face when Claire was around as when Neil was near Meghan. Danny chuckled to himself at his newly discovered insight into human behavior. His understanding of what was happening between both couples made him feel more like an adult than ever.

Maggie and Malachi chose to sit in the kitchen through most of the gaiety. They sat largely in silence with not even the gentle hum of electric appliances to cut into the heavy quiet. For Malachi, the stillness was welcome. He valued peace, especially since his life had been so devoid of it for as long as he could remember. In the silence, there was always the threat of his torturous memories assailing his thoughts and threatening his calm, but on that afternoon the quiet was without judgment...without accusation or blame. It was merely peaceful.

Still looking out the window at the others, Maggie said calmly, but with a sneer crouching behind her facade, “You know that God loves you, don’t you?”

Malachi nodded his head.

“You know, too, that He has a plan for all His children, don’t you?”

Malachi nodded again.

“Do you know your plan, my son?”

Again Malachi nodded, trying to preserve the quiet. He’d heard that said many times over his life; that God has a plan for everyone. No one, however, had ever asked him if he knew his or if he understood his role in a greater plan. Somehow, he had always assumed that someone would just tell him one day. He had always hoped that someone would reveal it to him. So far, he had been left painfully ignorant of any of it.

He spent those next several seconds after Maggie’s question staring more at the thin lacy white curtains than through the window. The yard beyond was obscured by the veil, like a body beneath a funeral shroud. The people lost all identity; they were just nameless, faceless people going about their business. He watched them move around beneath the sheer cloak.

He remembered a day long ago and another veil similar to this. The face beneath was familiar but he could barely make out the details beneath the cloth. She lay there on the bier while others stood beside her and cried. They touched his shoulder gently, some rubbing his back as they moved on and took their seats in the room. He didn’t understand then how much pain was growing inside him. He swallowed it down long ago and it became something different: anger. That anger, both with the world in general and with some of their companions even then relaxing in the backyard, faded into the thin white cloth in front of him.

He was still wearing his police uniform and was never more aware of that fact than at that very moment. He started to remember things...promises...oaths. The remembering was painful and its clarity was actually confusing to him. The oaths seemed out of place to him...foreign somehow. Had he taken them? Was that actually him in some long ago forgotten life?

He touched the cold, metal badge on his chest. He saw his mother. He could see her eyes and her approving smile peering out from beneath the veil.

He stood up from the table and, without uttering a single syllable; he walked out of the kitchen and into the backyard. He grabbed a lawn chair from the neatly stacked rack hanging on the back of the house and joined the others. The voices around him were soothing, despite his still feeling uncomfortable. He knew that he wasn’t quite right yet, but for his mother he could try.

Maggie watched him go in equal silence. In the ring of moisture left on the tabletop by her water bottle, she traced a cross and whispered, “That’s right. They’ll all be somewhere better soon enough. The believers and the non-believers will all finally see. And so will you, my friend. You half-wit. You pagan trash. You’ll see. And it’ll all be better for everyone soon enough. You can only run for so long from the Truth and from the deliverers of His message.”

She removed a small folding knife from inside her jacket pocket and held it out in front of her. “Truth” she said to herself and used the blade to open a small incision on her forearm. She watched the small rivulet of blood form and then course down her skin. Like a tigress cleaning her young, she ran her tongue the length of her arm, lapping the salty red fluid from the wound.

“Truth. Truth is the blood of the lamb,” she quietly sang, the soft tune echoing like a symphony in her head.

The first night in Charles’ basement was fairly pleasant, all things considered. The air inside was cool, but absent was the crisp edge the air outside carried on its shoulders. Between the food that Charles contributed and some of the supplies from the van, they enjoyed a veritable feast.

After dinner, they all played board games and told stories to one another. Charles shared with Emma and Meghan some of his wife’s cherished photo albums she had created over the years. They looked at both black and white and color photographs of national landmarks and family occasions, a life of happiness documented on film.

Following Malachi’s guidance, Art, Jerry, and Neil cleaned and oiled some of their preferred firearms, talking and laughing as they did so. Danny watched them, knowing that he would need to clean his own rifle in the not too distant future—after it had gotten some use, of course. The switch in Malachi’s mood pleasantly surprised even Jerry. He and Dr. Caldwell agreed that moments of levity and stability were not uncommon with people suffering mental illness and that they should continue to be vigilant when it came to Malachi. The break, however, was nice for all of them. They also appreciated his knowledge of firearm care. None of them would have even considered for a moment the need to perform such essential maintenance.