the Last Run (1987) (54 page)

"You calling me names again, Specialist Stecker?" A petite, blond first lieutenant nurse wearing white uniform, stockings, shoes, starched cap, and a scowl stood with her hands on her hips at the foot of Woodpecker's bed.

Woodpecker rolled his eyes. "Aw, hell, ma'am, I didn't hear you draggin' your chains like you usually do. Ya gonna beat me and big guy again?"

"The name is Lieutenant Pisa, Specialist Stecker. I would appreciate it if you and Specialist Meeks would refrain from the colorful nicknames and any innuendos that my medical care is less than superb."

"Sure, ma'am. How 'bout a steak, French fries, and a shot of su-perb painkiller?"

Thumper quickly added, "Or lobster tail, salad, and a couple of painkilling beers?"

The nurse's scowl dissolved into a genuine smile. "Well, well, food is on your mind for a change! That's a good sign. There is progress in the pits. What shall we have today? Liver or chicken cacciatore?"

Thumper made a face at the selection. "Just give me C rats."

Woodpecker nodded. "Yeah, I'll take a beef and rice lurp."

Lieutenant Pisa stepped in between their beds and nodded her head toward Wade. "You guys are a pain, but I'd give a month's pay for your sergeant to bitch or complain at me just once."

Thumper and Woodpecker exchanged worried glances.

"How's he doin'?" asked Thumper.

The nurse let out a sigh. "He's a little worse off than you two complainers, but it's his mental state that is slowing down his healing. He's been off the shots for two days and hasn't once asked for anything. It's like he's taking the pain inside and feeding on it."

"Move him over here next to us so we can talk to him," said Woodpecker.

"We can't. Depression is just as contagious as infection. Besides, he doesn't talk to you now, does he?"

"No, but. . ."

"We're moving him to the south wing in a few minutes. Oh, I have some good news for you two. Your friend Private First Class Black Eagle's surgery was a success. They got the bullet out without much nerve damage and it looks like in time he may walk again."

Thumper and Woodpecker both smiled halfheartedly. The news was good, but it still implied Preacher had a long way to go.

"How about Lieutenant Gibson, ma'am. You heard how's he doin'?" asked Thumper.

"Nothing more than I told you yesterday. He lost about three feet of small intestine and will be shipped to Walter Reed today or tomorrow. . . . Well, I hate to leave such terrible company, but it's time for me to talk with your sergeant. Wish me luck, huh?"

The nurse marched straight for Wade's bed as if into batde. "How are we feeling today, Sergeant Wade?"

Wade's eyes shifted slowly up toward her, but he didn't speak.

"Sergeant, I spoke to you and would appreciate a response."

Wade's eyes showed no expression. "I'm fine, ma'am."

"Good. Well, I brought you something. Will you lift your head, please?"

Wade lifted his head as instructed. The nurse reached in her pocket and pulled out the gold chain Ginny had given him. "I got this from your personal belongings . . . thought you'd like to have it." She slipped the chain over his head.

Wade lay back again without changing his expression. The nurse had hoped for a glimmer or sign of recognition, but there was nothing. He had held that same look ever since coming into the ward.

The nurse pressed the button on the wall above his head. An orderly stuck his head out of the office at the end of the hall, and she waved him toward her.

"Wade, we're moving you to the south wing." She bent over and unlocked the bed rollers and began to pull his bed away from the wall, but stopped and stared into his eyes. "You know, your friends care about you very much. They're worried about you. I know you don't care, but for their sake, please say something to them. They need to know you're okay. They'll be leaving in a few days for the States and you'll probably never see them again after you leave this ward. I'll push you down to them for just a minute so you can say good-bye if you want."

Wade closed his eyes for a moment and nodded.

The nurse smiled and motioned for the orderly to help push.

Thumper and Woodpecker raised up to their elbows as Matt's bed rolled in between theirs.

"Matt, damn, it's good to see you, man."

The sergeant raised his head, looking at Woodpecker, then Thumper. His eyes still showed no emotion. "I want to tell you both I'm sorry for what happened. I will never forget you, and I'll miss you. You were like brothers to me and ..." Wade's eyes suddenly clouded and his monotone voice began quivering. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, releasing tears down his cheeks. He tried to speak but his words came out in a whisper. "Good-bye . . . Good-bye, my brothers."

Thumper and Woodpecker were crying and reached out for their sergeant. Wade took their hands and squeezed them tightly. "Good-bye . . . and take care of yourselves."

Lieutenant Pisa pulled Wade's bed back and motioned for the orderly to help her push. They pushed the bed down the aisle to the hallway. Another nurse passed by and looked at Pisa strangely. 44Why are your crying?"

The lieutenant wiped her tears away with her hands and shook her head. 44Just one of those days."

Mary Ann hadn't known about Thumper's injuries until she'd called An Lom to talk to him. Then Pete had told her everything, and she'd immediately sent a telegram to the Philippines for Virginia. The next morning, Virginia called her, and they'd both cried and speculated, knowing nothing more than that Thumper and Matt were wounded badly enough to be sent to Japan. Both of them decided to meet in Tokyo and drive to Camp Zama to see the men.

Two days later Mary Ann and Virginia were taken to the patient affairs office at the hospital where a doctor pulled the men's files.

'You'll find Specialist Meeks on Ward B in the north wing, Miss Krueger. You're awfully lucky to have gotten here when you did-he leaves tomorrow for the States. Uh . . . I need to speak to Miss Wolinski for a few moments, so why don't you go on down and see him. I have an orderly waiting outside to show you the way."

Mary Ann got to her feet and put her hand on Virginia's shoulder. 4 Til see you back at the hotel tonight. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

Virginia smiled nervously and patted her friend's hand. "Tell Thumper hello for me."

Mary Ann walked out of the office, leaving Virginia fidgeting in her chair.

Would you like some coffee, Miss Wolinski?"

"No, thank you," said Virginia anxiously.

The doctor leaned back in his chair. "Miss Wolinski, your friend, Sergeant Wade, will recover completely from his physical wounds, and he'll be able to carry on normally. However, psychologically, we're concerned about him."

"What does that mean, doctor?"

"It means, simply, that don't expect to see the same man you knew before. He is severely depressed and we haven't been successful in helping him yet. Perhaps seeing you may trigger something, but I doubt it. It was my misfortune to have to tell Sergeant Wade a week ago that his grandfather had passed away. He took the news without a trace of emotion. I found this surprising and discussed the matter at some length with the psychiatrist who is handling his case. He told me Sergeant Wade was involved in some very heavy action and that several of his team members were killed. The sergeant somehow feels direcdy responsible for what happened to those men. All this has produced a depression that is proving very difficult to treat."

The doctor could see by the young woman's expression that she wasn't taking the news very well. He got up, moved around his desk, and sat down beside her. "Miss Wolinski, I'm afraid the sergeant is dealing with his emotional pain in the worst possible way. He's completely withdrawn into himself."

Virginia shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand. What are you telling me?"

The doctor lowered his eyes, searching for an explanation that wouldn't sound like medical mumbo jumbo. He looked back up at her. "Sergeant Wade has created a barrier in his mind to stop everything but the hurt and suffering caused by his feelings of guilt. The problem is, this barrier shuts us out, too. It's shut out everything, even his grandfather's death. In fact, he may in some way feel he's responsible for that, too."

"He couldn't possibly!" Virginia blurted, choking back her tears.

The doctor took her hand and spoke softly to reassure her. "The problem is, he probably does. It's the reason he won't take any painkillers for his wounds. He believes that pain is what he deserves for his failure as a leader. He's punishing himself for crimes he didn't commit. In his mind, he wasn't good enough to do the job, even if no one could possibly have done it, and he's made a little hell for himself to hide in. Unfortunately, right now, there is nothing and no one that can help him but time."

Virginia stood up with determination and wiped her cheeks. "No, you're wrong, doctor. There is something and someone. He has his land in Oklahoma and he has me. Take me to him, please."

The doctor stood and walked to her to the door. "I'll escort you myself, but please don't get your expectations up. These things do take time."

Wade opened his eyes and saw a dream. It was a woman whose pictures had kept him going once-a long time ago, it seemed. But she was just that, a dream, a passing person in his life. And he didn't want to hurt her like he had the others. She spoke to him and pleaded, but she just didn't understand. Her tears were real, but they'd soon dry and be forgotten. As she'd soon forget him. She had her own life to live. She was saying things and making promises and probably believed all of it. But that was because she didn't know that love wasn't enough. In the face of pain and death, love couldn't do a damn thing. It didn't mean nothin'.

Virginia cried and reached out, touching his face, speaking through her tears. "Matt, talk to me, please talk to me. I can't stand for you to do this to yourself-to us! Tell me you love me. Tell me you understand what I'm saying to you."

Wade looked deeply into her eyes and spoke the only words that seemed to make sense in a world that took all the people you love away: "Good-bye Ginny."

Chapter 29

1971

It had been a year since Matt Wade was discharged from the hospital, and shortly after that, the Army. He'd returned to the farm when he'd gotten out, only to find his hometown friends had become strangers to him. They'd tried to talk to him and help in his adjustment to the 4world', but their efforts only pushed him farther away. Finally, he'd left the farm empty and begun an aimless search. He drifted from state to state, East coast to West, trying to find something-he couldn't explain what. Whenever he found himself pulled back to the farm, letters from Viiginia would always be waiting there, as they had while he was in the hospital, but he threw them away unopened. He didn't want to reopen old wounds, he told himself. Usually he'd stay a few days, sometimes a couple of weeks, but inevitably he would leave again.

The drifting finally ended on a late summer day in Oregon, when he suddenly and quiedy came to a realization: Whatever he'd been looking for couldn't be found anywhere except in himself. The faces of the men he'd loved and failed could not be left behind. There was no place, person, or thing that could give him a miraculous release from the guilt he felt. He'd failed his beloved team. He had not gotten them home as he'd vowed. Two were gone, and the others would carry the scars of his failure of responsibility for the rest of their lives. Those were the facts, and he grimly determined to live with them.

Matt went back to the farm and began college again. He found he could forget the faces of his men for awhile by burying himself in the pages of his schoolwork. He became a model student, but one without purpose. He changed majors three times, searching for something, anything that had meaning.

Then, one day in early summer, a Special Education student teacher asked him to fill in for her while she was on jury duty. The young woman explained that the college helped local grade school children who were having learning problems by sending out Special Education majors during the summer session to teach them.

Matt reluctandy agreed to help the teacher only after she offered to pay him. He walked into the small classroom the following day. There were five students-four ten-year-old girls and one nine-year-old boy.

Matt handed out questions for the students to fill out after they had read a story from their textbooks. He then sat down to complete an American history report. The girls began reading, but the blond boy sat staring out the window.

Matt ignored the boy and started on his report. An hour later he asked for the papers and excused the children for a ten-minute recess, then shuffled through the questions until coming to the boy's. He'd only partially completed two questions out of twelve. His printing was barely legible and half the letters were written backward. Matt stared at the paper for a few moments, remembering back to a time when he, too, stared out a window hoping to become magically smarter, to understand the words he had read.

Matt pulled the boy's progress file from the desk and read not about Robert C. Canning, but Matthew Wade, fourteen years before.

The boy sat on a swing, watching the girls play on the merry- go-round. He saw the new teacher approaching and lowered his head guiltily.

"What's your name?" Matt asked him.