Carly (21 page)

Leigh pressed her hand to Chloe’s forehead. “She feels feverish. Let’s call the doctor and see if he can stop by.”

“I’ll do it.” Nate picked up the bedside phone. He watched Leigh stroke her grandmother’s cheek and speak soft words of love.
His Leigh did have a full heart of love. She just didn’t always show it.

Saudi Arabia, December 27, 1990

It had been the longest night of Carly’s life—the most miserable, the coldest, the most frightening. She’d never felt more
vulnerable. The fear that the tanks would return and find them had woven her stomach into an intricate rosary of knots. Breathing
had become difficult. Now she gazed at the first pink of dawn glowing on the horizon and praised God with her whole heart.

The tanks had passed them by in the night. The berm and darkness had hidden them—or maybe it had been the hand of God. This
feeling of connecting with God was so new. Maybe only such overwhelming fear drove a person this close to God. The scene of
Kitty’s deathbed came up in her mind. Chloe, Minnie, and Kitty had held hands and prayed for God’s forgiveness, thanking him
for his grace. Carly swallowed a sob and tried to clear her mind.
Thank you, Father. You saved us. Thank you
.

“Well, we made it through the night.” Joe voiced her sentiments. He sat beside her on the top of the berm, his knees bent
and his elbows resting on them. “Now if we could just figure out where the heck we are, we could get this all over with and
head back.”

“I’m sure we are on course,” Carly insisted. The tightness around her heart was still loosening. “If we just go da>, we should
be okay.”

“You’re sure, Carly?” Joe asked.

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Joe. I’ve done the best I can with this lousy map.” She waved it at him. “I’m wondering if the Marines
moved, or maybe the right coordinates weren’t given in the first place.”

Joe shrugged. “I believe you. You’re sharp and usually right on. We’ll go on a few more miles and hope that the shortwave
will start working again. What a Godforsaken place.”

“Yeah, it really makes me want to go home and see green grass and blue rivers again.”

Bowie joined them, standing tall behind Carly. “I know what you mean. I been thinking about fields of ripe corn and the smell
of red earth after a hard rain.”

Joe snorted. “Let’s not all start up. I don’t want us all humming ‘The Green, Green Grass of Home.’ Come on. We’ll eat some
MREs and head out. Those Marines have to be somewhere around here.”

All ten gathered around the two trucks, swatting flies away from their “meals ready to eat,” MREs, and drinking lukewarm bottled
water. Then they headed out. Carly sat quietly beside Bowie, feeling dirty and wrung out. “I keep wondering if the Marines’
OP moved or something.” If only they could find the Marines this morning, Carly could relax.

And then she saw it—a Humvee draped with netting. “That’s one of ours.” She pointed toward the windshield. “Honk or flash
your lights.”

The Humvee headed right for them. Joe stopped his truck and Bowie followed suit. With weapons, everyone climbed out, keeping
the trucks between them and the strangers.

The Humvee stopped about ten feet away. “Hey! You the bunch that was supposed to bring us supplies?” Two Marines climbed out
and came forward, also armed.

Joe identified their squad and the Marines did the same. Then all of them lowered their weapons.

“What took you guys so long?” one Marine asked.

“This lousy map,” Carly replied and offered it to him. “Look at this and tell me how wrong it is.”

“Hey,” the Marine said, opening his eyes wide, “you got a woman with you.”

Carly chuckled, near weeping over their deliverance. “Glad your faculties are still working.” She waved the map in front of
him, blinking away tears. “Where is your OP on here?”

They spread it out on the hood of the Humvee. “Well, from this, I’d say they got you close. But it’s good we came out looking
for you. We’re about four miles south of where they told you we were.”

“Did you see any Iraqi tanks last night?” Joe asked.

“Tanks?” The Marine stared at him.

“Yeah,” Carly agreed, “we saw two Iraqi tanks back there.” She pointed to the spot on the map. “Last night just at dark. We
think they might have been lost.”

“Did you radio it in?” the Marine asked.

“We tried,” Joe said. “Our shortwaves haven’t worked since yesterday afternoon.”

“Well, come on. Follow us. You can unload our supplies and we’ll try to raise our commander and alert him to tank activity
in the area. It’s probably good your radios didn’t work. All messages need to be encoded.”

In a few short miles, Carly’s squad was unloading fresh water, food, and other supplies to the OP, which was occupied by five
Marines. Their radio worked, and the Marines reported, in code, the tank sighting and the fact that the resupply trucks had
arrived and would head back soon.

Watching the last of the supplies being set on the sand, Carly leaned against the side of the truck, still hollow with relief.
She hadn’t led her squad astray.

“Hey, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” one of the Marines said, walking up to her. “We haven’t seen a woman in a few weeks.”

“Oh?” Carly grinned at him cautiously, hoping he wasn’t going to be a jerk.

“Yeah, have you been off base at all?”

“Once. I didn’t really care for it. I had to wear that black getup, and some Arab tried to pick me up and run off with me
anyway. And their police came and told
us
not to cause trouble.”

He shrugged. “They got weird ideas. Where you from?”

“New York City.”

Bowie walked over. “Carly, Joe says come on. We’re heading back now.”

Carly moved to follow Bowie.

“Hey,” the Marine said, stopping her with a hand on her sleeve, “you dating anybody?”

Carly started to reply, but Bowie stopped her. “Yeah, she’s my girl—when we’re off duty.”

“The story of my life,” the Marine said with a shake of his head.

Carly chuckled and waved as she headed for the truck. Bowie’s possessive words had given her a thrill.

Joe and the other guys were waiting for her. “Well, it wasn’t you. It was the map. And now we just have to get back before
nightfall.”

Carly suddenly felt lighter than air. “Right! And even Haskell will look good to me.”

All the guys laughed as if she’d really said something witty.

Bowie got in as she slammed her door. “That Marine come on to you?”

She smiled. “No, he just wanted to talk to a female for a few minutes.”

Bowie made a sound of disbelief. “Wanted to do more than talk to you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything, right? You told him the truth.” A smile spread across her face.

Bowie nodded and turned the big truck around, heading them home, or at least to the post they called home. Carly looked out
her window and smiled again.
Thanks, God. Just thanks
.

Hospital in Croftown

An hour later, Leigh worried and walked beside her grandmother as Chloe’s squeaky gurney was being pushed back to the unevenly
lit ER. Chloe’s doctor had told them to take her straight to the ER.

Chloe had just had a chest X-ray. Nate stood when he saw Leigh. The nurse pushed the gurney into the white-curtained area
and told them the doctor would join them as soon as the X-ray had been developed and he’d had a chance to view it. Leigh let
Nate make the polite responses while she took Chloe’s cool frail hand in hers. “Grandma, don’t worry. You’re going to be fine.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Chloe’s voice was thin and quiet. “But I have been feeling rundown ever since Kitty’s funeral.
Losing her has taken its toll on me.”

These words hit Leigh hard. The old saying about deaths coming in threes struck her again. She had not thought of the possibility
of her grandmother dying. Chloe was indestructible.

“Even if it is pneumonia,” Nate said reassuringly, “it’s just started and they have good antibiotics now.”

“I think I’ll just rest for a few minutes.” Chloe squeezed Leigh’s hand. “I’m so very tired.” She closed her eyes.

Nate went to Leigh’s side and took her hands in his, silently giving her comfort.

Leigh needed that boost.
Michael is worried about my going to Saudi Arabia—is worried about his sister’s safety. Why didn’t that occur to me? Have
I really become so self-absorbed?

Right then Leigh was not sure of anything except that Chloe needed to get better, and that she wouldn’t leave until Chloe
was home, breathing easy. She looked into Nate’s face. “I’m going to call Dorcas and tell her I won’t be coming to New York.
I’ll just have to get the shots I need here and do what I can long-distance.”

“You should call your mother, too,” Nate pointed out.

“I will, but I can take care of Grandma.”
Nate, it’s time I accepted responsibility for my family
. “I’ll be right back.”

Late that afternoon, back on the good highway, Carly saw the U.S. troop area da> on the horizon. Within ten minutes, Bowie
pulled the truck into the garage and Haskell was waiting for them. His hands were on his hips and he was trying to look disgruntled.
But Carly could read the relief in the lines of his face.

“You sure took your sweet time,” Haskell growled predictably. “That’s what I get for putting the woman in charge of navigation.”

Carly walked over to him and put her hands on her hips. “An accurate map might have helped me.”

“I gave you the map I was given.” He shrugged.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

“You could all use a shower,” Haskell commented, wrinkling his nose. “Report for duty as usual tomorrow.”

An impromptu cheer went up from the squad. And before Haskell could change his mind, they all jogged off toward their quarters.

“I’ll come and walk you to mess for lunch,” Bowie called to her.

She nodded and waved, already anticipating the feeling of being in a refreshing shower, shampooing her hair. As she neared
her barracks, she wondered about the vast difference between the night of terror and this sunny, warm day back at what she
called home. She was more exhausted by these widely divergent and heightened emotions than by the lack of sleep. And this
was definitely one experience she wouldn’t be writing home about.

A radio nearby was playing “I Want to Know What Love Is” as she walked inside her tent and saw three letters lying on her
pillow. One was from Alex. One was from her great-grandmother. And one was from her birth father. She sat down and, forgetting
about the shower, tore open her father’s letter. Would he tell her his name this time?

After Chloe had been wheeled upstairs to her room, Leigh dialed her mother’s phone number. She got the answering machine and
left a message, telling Bette about Chloe’s pneumonia and her room number at the hospital.

Outside, as Bette fumbled with her key at the back door, she heard the phone ring. She made it inside just as Leigh hung up.
She’d caught the words “Chloe” and “pneumonia.”
Pneumonia?
Bette quickly took off her coat, hat, and gloves and hung them up. She reached for the phone but before she could dial, it
rang again. “Hello?”

It was her doctor.

After he ended their brief conversation, Bette stood holding the receiver. Her mind stuttered on his frightening words like
an old-fashioned phonograph needle stuck in a groove of an old record.

Saudi Arabia, January 2, 1991

P
erched on the fender of an HEMTT, Carly leaned over the side of the mammoth truck, her head under the raised hood. She was
painstakingly taking out spark plugs, cleaning them and putting them back, sand-free. Her life seemed similarly clogged. The
days since returning from the supply mission had been a tangle of emotions.

She had to find a way to sort everything out, put her uncertainties into perspective. Saddam Hussein’s UN deadline was only
thirteen days away—along with her mother’s arrival. But as part of four hundred thousand soldiers, she might not see her mother.
A hot war to deal with might even stop her mother’s meddling. But Carly felt all of the turmoil would be easier to cope with
if she could settle her nerves.

So far, she’d made no progress. After the night in the desert, she’d returned to those three letters on her cot. Chloe’s letter
had been the usual cheery, chatty note. But her father’s letter had contained a promise, one both welcome and disturbing.
He would come to meet her when she returned from Saudi—if she wanted him to. Her insides had buzzed at that promise and its
qualifier. She wanted to meet her father, but how would that affect her already rocky relationship with her mother? Why was
her life so complicated? Other people had mothers and fathers without all this craziness added on. She looked up and out of
the small window nearby.

Outside, the desert daylight was muted by a sandstorm in progress. The soldiers had closed the doors and windows of the garage,
but that didn’t keep out the insidious, swirling sand. Carly breathed through her nose to filter out the sand ambient in the
air. She could still taste its grit on her tongue.

And the third, Alex’s letter, had asked for advice. Still stateside, Alex was attracted to a guy in her company who seemed
nice. But Alex was still going to counseling. Should she tell him that? Carly wondered why Alex wanted her advice. What did
she know?

Giving a soft grunt, Bowie called her back to the present. He was underneath the truck, changing oil and putting on another
new filter. Having him near always gave her a good feeling. Joe’s radio was softly playing “Lean on Me.” She recalled Bowie’s
statement to the Marine that she was his girl. “Bowie’s girl.” It sounded good. But was she just leaning on him?

Carly felt that might be true in a sense, but she did care for him. She also sensed Bowie still held back just a bit of his
heart from her. He was protecting himself. Did he really believe that they were too different to be a couple? The memory of
his stolen kiss in the shadows the night before curled her toes inside her desert combat boots. The man did know how to kiss.