A Hard and Heavy Thing (30 page)

Once they were alone, she turned to face him. She crossed her arms and leaned in, but she didn't bother to whisper. “So are you wasted too? You smell like a distillery.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you as hammered as Levi?”

“No. This is my first beer.”

“Whatever.”

“Honey. Gimme a break. I haven't seen the guy in over three years.”

“I said whatever. Do what you want. But give me my keys. I'm not driving that stupid truck again, and I'm sure as hell not letting you drive my car like this.”

He reached into his pocket and grabbed the keys. She reached for them. He lifted them and held them above his head. Did he expect her to jump for them? And that stupid smile.

“What have we here?” Levi leaned on the doorjamb. “A lovers' quarrel?” Levi tilted his head so it, too, rested on the doorjamb, and he flashed a big carnie grin. “Hello, Eris. Like a fine wine, you've refined with age. You look as beautiful as ever.” He then righted himself and walked across the room, swaying as if the walls and floor were fun house mirrors.

“Hello, Levi.” She looked down at the carpet, embarrassed for them all.

Levi reached out and took one of her hands. He kissed the top of it. “Where've you been? Why're you hiding away in here?”

She pulled her hand back. “It's nice to see you again.” She was polite. Formal.

“So Eris, do you know any of these people?”

She shook her head no.

“Nick?”

“Sure. People that went to our church growing up. Friends of your parents. I see a lot of them at the bar. They're all people from town here. The town where you grew up.”

Levi put an arm around Eris. She stiffened.

“So Eris,” he said. “That makes the two of us then. You and I. That is, you and I don't know anyone. And so.”

“So what?”

“So come join the party.”

She said nothing.

“C'mon. I'll mix you a rum and coke. The three of us can play cards, and it'll be like the old days.”

She could see Nick out of the corner of her eye shaking his head no, drawing a line across his throat. She tried to smile politely. “No, thank you. I'm fine.”

In a way, she could sense it already. The way it would be. Now no different than it used to be. And she felt small. Silent. Pushed to the margins. Nothing more than an object between them. Forget that she was real.

Levi took a drink from his own highball glass and let go of her. “Suit yourself.” He took another large gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Suit yourself. But really, you should have a drink.”

“Yeah,” her husband said. “Why don't you have a drink?”

They all stood there staring at each other.

Nick then looked down at his feet. Levi either didn't pick up on the silent tension, or he didn't care. He took another drink and looked from Eris to Nick, from Nick to Eris.

Finally, Eris patted Nick on the chest with an open palm as she walked past him to leave. “I think you've drunk enough for all of us.”

Levi spun around and called after her. “Aw, now I know why Nick married you.” He held up his glass in a toast. “It's not everyone that knows how to use the past perfect of drink like that.”

She turned when she got to the door. She held her peace. “I'll see you at home, Nick.”

“What?” Levi called. “You're leaving? You just got here. I just got here.”

She lifted a hand to wave but didn't turn around. In a way, she envied him. His wild eyes and oblivion.

“I haven't seen you in years, and you're leaving? C'mon,” he called after her. “Have a drink and take the stick out.”

She walked away. She didn't blame him. They wouldn't enjoy her company anyway. Sometimes she didn't enjoy her own.

She melted along the line of the wall, up the stairs, and into the crowded living room. Eris looked around for Charlotte Hartwig to tell her goodbye, but she stood at the kitchen island with a gaggle of women.

Charlotte told the other women, “We never expected it and still don't even know how it all worked out, but he came home early and Jesus kept him safe, just like we prayed.”

“The Lord does work in mysterious ways.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

Eris thought of waiting until the conversation was over, thought of returning to the window to stand alone again. Instead, she turned back toward the door to leave. The sea of people parted and moved around her as she murmured and touched elbows.

“Petals on a wet, black bough,” she thought.

Levi thought he had escaped Robert Wright, his challenge coins, and his war stories. He had not. When he tried passing him again to use the restroom, the man put a big farmer's hand on the back of his neck.

“Like I was saying before. It was just the fear, more than the combat.” Robert put a fist on his chest and belched with a closed mouth, only to blow the noxious odor in Levi's face. “But I don't really have to tell you boys that, what with all those roadside bombs and booby traps. Not to mention, you're supposed to be fighting a war, but they tie your hands with all these rules of engagement. And you don't know who the enemy is, right? I mean, could be anybody. Nope. Don't have to tell you boys, do I?”

“No. You certainly don't have to tell us.”

“Real quick. Let me tell you about the night I landed in country, just to put it all in perspective.”

[Why do we feel the need to assail each other with our war stories? That was the last thing I wanted. I looked down into my glass, but he carried on anyway. Certain words jumped out at me—mortars, wire, listening post, jungle rot, dancing girls—but I couldn't tell you what he said. I was already plenty drunk. I really only snapped out of it when he laughed and slapped his palm on the top of the bar, and by that point all I could do was snort in commiseration and tell him something like, “Robert, you're the real hero here.”]

He waved Levi off, but Robert grinned from ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself. “Nah.” He unwrapped that tired old cliché that Levi knew so well, “Anyone would have done the same thing.”

His mother appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but your presence is requested upstairs.”

“Pourquoi?” said Levi.

She smiled, stuck her tongue out, and curled it. She rubbed her hands together. “You'll just have to see, Smarty Pants.”

Levi walked up the stairs behind Nick. “Too bad she didn't show up ten minutes earlier.”

“Right,” Nick said, laughing.

The guests gathered in the living room and crowded to one side. Liz's kids sat on the floor with their legs crossed. Nick stood next to Paul at the edge of the crowd. Levi's dad stood in a cleared space in front of the horseshoe of people. “Come here, Son,” he said.

Levi stood and turned so he faced both his father and the crowd. “What's going on here?” he whispered to his father.

A few people in the crowd chuckled. Everyone but Levi was in on the joke, and he didn't like the feeling.

“We couldn't be happier now that you're home. We're just really proud of you Son, and we—that is, your mother and I—got you a little coming home present.” He turned to his wife, who hovered in the doorway that led to the dining room. “Dear?”

She leaned through the door and pulled out a large frame. Beaming from ear to ear, she handed it to her husband. Levi's dad held it out so people could see it. He slowly turned his body with the frame out so everyone got a good look. Then he held it out so Levi could look at it. “We had your medals framed with the narrative and citation,” his dad said, nearly busting with pride.

Levi sucked in his lip. “Yeah. I see that.”

His dad brought the large frame closer to his body and let it rest on his hip. “It reads as follows—”

“It's okay, Dad.” Levi put his hand over the words. “That's not necessary.” He shook his head and laughed, trying to be a good sport. “I can't thank you all enough for this.” He took a moment to respectfully admire his gift, knowing their intentions were pure. “I don't deserve this. Thanks.”

His dad handed it back to his mom, and she held it out and started reading, “Sergeant Levi Hartwig displayed uncommon gallantry in action against the enemy on May 15th, 2005—”

“Mom. You don't have to read it.”

She smiled at him and kept reading. “In the vicinity of Ad Dujayl, Iraq, while acting as a dismounted team leader and vehicle commander.”

“Mom. It happened, like, four years ago. It's not news anymore.” He looked around, as if for help. “Please, just—”

She waved a hand at him and smiled. “Oh, it's okay, honey.” She looked back down. “His heroic actions after an improvised explosive device attack—”

He erupted before his brain could catch up with his mouth. “Mom,” he shouted. “I said don't read the goddamned medal.”

His dad stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest. The shuffling, murmuring, whispering, laughing, and background noise had all fallen away. Everyone heard him whisper, “Check yourself, Son.”

The damage was done. His mother quietly said, “Oh,” and she pursed her lips and looked down at the medal in her hands.

Levi took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. “Mom. I'm sorry. Really.” Trying and failing to recover, he said, “But thank you. It's very sweet. I'm sorry.”

She set the frame on the ground against the wall and folded her hands in front of her. She lifted her chin and set her jaw. “No. I'm sorry. I should have—” Her voice cracked. She stopped and cleared her throat. She finished in a whisper. “I should have listened the first time.”

“Mom?” Levi scanned the faces of the silent guests. “Well, shit,” he said. Levi locked eyes on Nick trying to shrink away behind Paul. “Oh yeah, Nick. Hey Nick. Come over here.” He held his arm out and waved him in.

Nick hesitated. Levi's dad shook his head in exasperated resignation. Nick took a few tentative steps toward the front of the silent room.

“C'mon, Nick, don't be shy.” Levi put one arm around his friend and slapped his chest with his other hand. “This guy needs to be recognized. Not a day goes by that I don't thank my lucky stars that my friend, my brother from another mother, the real hero here,
my
hero, Nick Anhalt is still with us.” He looked around. “Right?” A few people in the crowd nodded their heads while looking around to see if they should. Levi looked at his dad. “Right, Dad?”

His dad looked at the ground.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Levi said. “I give you Specialist (Retired) Nicholas Anhalt. Recipient of the Purple Heart Medal and Army Commendation Medal with Valor device.” He clapped and whistled and lifted his palms to encourage the rest of the people. It was all very theatrical, like Levi was a caricature of himself.

When the crowd failed to rebound, his face fell. “Thanks for coming everyone.” He brushed past his dad, past his mom without a word, and through the kitchen. He slammed the door to the garage as he left. He trudged through the lawn getting cold snow down his shoes where it melted into his socks under the arches of his feet. When he reached the sidewalk, he stomped the snow from his shoes and kept walking.

Levi felt terrible for how he had snapped at his mother, but everything would have been easier if they would have let him forget it, if they would have just let him move on. Instead, that medal kept popping back up, and it forced him to dig graves that were better left filled.

Nick's second grade teacher was one of the last to leave. She hugged Charlotte and whispered something in her ear. She then came over to Nick and gave him a hug. “You take care of your friend.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it,” she said. She closed the front door quietly.

Robert Wright swaggered up to Kevin Hartwig just before leaving. He pumped his hand, not letting go of it as he talked. “You know, when I got home from Vietnam, I went through the same thing. Ain't easy, just switching worlds like that.” He pulled his hand away and snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Hell, I coulda told ya. Well you know as well as I do, having been over there yourself. You don't win a medal like that without having been through hell, ya know?”

Kevin chose his words carefully. “I don't blame him for not wanting to relive it all.”

Charlotte had disappeared and Robert had been the last to leave. Nick walked around with a trash bag cleaning up paper plates with half-eaten pieces of cake and plastic cups that weren't quite empty.

Paul leaned against the refrigerator and drank a bottle of beer. When he had finished, he looked at his watch and said, “I suppose.” He put his bottle in Nick's trash bag, left the room, and came back in a black peacoat. “I'll be seeing you.”

When they had finished with the bulk of the cleaning, Kevin and Nick sat at the island across from each other. They drank in silence for a while. Kevin pinched his lips between his thumb and forefinger, wiping off the excess beer. “I should have known better,” he said. “I don't know what I was thinking. Just proud I guess. And thinking more about showing off than thinking about what he would want.” He looked down and peeled the label on his beer bottle.

“Don't beat yourself up,” Nick said. He wished he could say something more edifying, something less cliché, but nothing came to him. “You meant well.” That too sounded weak.

Kevin nodded and dropped little bits of metallic paper on the counter as he continued to pick at his label. Nick wished he could go over and hug him—after all, he had become as much a part of that family as any of Kevin's own children—but he kept his seat.

They heard a clunking in the back. Nick spread the blinds to look out the window above the sink. “It's Levi.”