Red lights blare like neon behind a bar. Warning bleeps drown out the crooning of Nat King Cole. Panicked dispatches come from my captain. Snow and trees come closer and closer....
Pain. Along my left side. Hurt. Bleeding down my face. Agony. Across my chest.
The snow looks soft and cool. I want to lay down in it. It’s just out of reach, beyond the crumpled helicopter frame.
“Corporal? Corporal!”
A bloody face comes into view. Captain Parker looks worried. Why? Why does he bleed? Why does he fear? This is Germany. This is an exercise.
Pain. Down my arm. Hurt. Along my forehead. Agony. Growing in my chest.
Damn this air is frigid. It hurts to breathe.
“I gotcha Corporal! Hang on. I gotcha.”
Pain so unbearable my world goes black.
I jostle and drag, propped up against my captain. Why is he bloody? Why do I hurt?
“Gotta get you outta here,” is Captain Parker’s grunt. I always liked his voice—no one harmonizes like him. But now it sounds choked.
I rasp something, but he shushes me. There’s the harmony. It mingles with a popping and whirring behind us. The song punctures the quiet of snow covered woods like the bone puncturing my arm.
I whimper.
Pain. Across that arm. Hurt. Along my forehead. Agony. Expanding in my chest.
“Corporal I need you to stay with me.”
I spit, instead of speak. Blood dots the snow he trudges through. He stops just when I think the world will go black again.
Looking over his shoulder he mutters about faulty engines. I see a glow of red from dials dying in a wreckage of metal.
I cough. Blood dribbles down my cheek.
Captain Parker turns back to me.
“I’m here Corporal. I’m not leaving you.”
Pain. Hurt. Agony. It’s all over. The bed of snow does not feel soft. It feels cold, like a grave.
“Help should be, should be...”
The beautiful voice trails off. He sniffs and smears blood across his face when swiping with the back of his hand. The captain looks scared.
I smile, and my teeth feel wet.
“Dammit,” is the only response. He can’t really smile in return, but he’s here. So I forgive him.
I’m cold. And the pain... it’s ebbing away. I don’t even notice my next cough till blood speckles my commanding officer’s jaw.
My hand is taken in his. He looks as white as the snow that dusts the trees. I think he may squeeze my hand in comfort, but I feel... nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
It’s a relief.
“God—fuck!” Captain Parker shouts, words echoing in the silent woods. He lets go of my hand, which falls to the snow.
Then he stands, and walks away.
I want to call after him. Why is he leaving? He promised he’d stay? He promised!
And yet, he walks away.
It takes a while, his shouts of rage fading to hoarse crying, before I realize. He hasn’t left me. He waits.
But I have left him.
It’s Christmas Eve. And I’ve left my commanding officer alone. He bleeds, but doesn’t care. He doesn’t even try the walkie strapped to his vest.
A good man. A lonely soldier now.
So though I’ve gone, I wait. He doesn’t notice me come close, doesn’t care that I sit beside him in the snow. And I don’t mind that. I stay.
It’s early morning before the rescue comes. They take care of the garish scene, marring the winter land further with cleanup. Captain Parker doesn’t go though. He will not move.
He walked away but didn’t leave me. Even when he feels pain. Hurt. Agony.
So I do what he did for me. I drag him to his feet. And I escort him to cover. He looks as dazed and confused as I must have. I pay that no mind, almost amused by his blank expression.
He can leave me now. As I left him. He doesn’t know it, and he needs to.
Dawn hits the snow landscape that passes out the window. It creates a diamond sheen on the mural of German countryside. The light shines in, onto Captain Parker’s bruised face.
I take his hand in mine. I squeeze it hard.
“You can leave now.”
His eyes meet mine, and I smile. It takes a moment, but he relents. A nod is given.
There’s music playing on the stereo. Silent Night. My final salute is given to the sound of Parker’s own accompanying harmony.
This gave me chills. So good!
ReplyDelete