The Telling (23 page)

“And if Jimmy were in that truck he’d be sitting next to Ryan, right?”

“Yes.”

Continuing with his calm logic, Raff said, “If that’s true, then depending on which side of Ryan he was sitting, he still might not
have survived the attack.”

“I survived!” Michael yelled.

“Yes, you did. And I hope one day to see you grateful for that fact, instead of thinking that you are so powerful that you control another
man’s destiny.” Although the counselor never raised his voice, those harsh words stung like a slap to the face.

Michael jumped to his feet with every intention of walking out the door and never looking back.

“Michael, listen to me.” The pleading in that voice caused him to stop short of the door and turn to face his tormentor.

“You are so unlike that man who died, from what you told me. You’re bigger, more muscular. That alone might have been the deciding
factor. You have the quick reflexes of a born athlete. And from what you told me, you stopped Ryan from running into certain death and shielded him with
your own body.” Raff stood and made his way over to where Michael stood immobile. “You saved his life, Michael. Even when he begged and
pleaded to get away, you had your wits about you and knew it was suicide. You kept him alive. I think instead of blaming you for his death, Jimmy would
thank you for saving his best friend.”

“His lover,” Michael corrected.

“Okay, then, his lover. I think Jimmy would be grateful for that, don’t you?”

So long Michael had carried his pain and anger, a heavy burden upon his shoulders. But Rafe spoke the truth. Ryan meant everything to Jimmy, and beyond the
shadow of a doubt the freckled redhead from Arkansas would have gladly laid down his own life for the young man he’d built his world around.

“You’re right,” Michael finally agreed, hanging his head.

“Don’t you think that they’d both grieve for you if you had been the one killed?”

Without even having to think about it he knew they would have. It would have devastated them and perhaps even now they’d be dealing with guilt
issues of their own.

Raff wasn’t finished yet. “I cannot tell you what happened that day, because I wasn’t there. But I do know without a shadow
of a doubt that you acted to the best of your ability as a soldier, as a man, and as a friend. You saved Ryan through a selfless act of protection and no
one could have asked more of you.”

Though many times he’d heard those words from his commanding officers, the medics, and guys in his unit, they only now sank in, delivered by this
war-scarred veteran, in the comfort of a plush, modern office, far removed from the battlefield.

“There’s one more thing you should think about. Although no one you talked to knows why the seating arrangement changed, it was your
platoon leader’s assignment to make, not yours. Am I correct?”

“You are,” was more of an exhalation than actual words. “I couldn’t ask him, because he’s one of the ones
who died. So I’ll never know.”

Raff barked, “Ah-ten-hut!”

On pure reflex Michael snapped to attention, deeply embarrassed when he realized he saluted a civilian and not a uniformed officer.

“At ease, soldier,” Raff said, voice now back to the soothing tones he normally used.

Michael exhaled harshly and forced himself to relax, though his heart still raced.

“Why did you snap to attention, Michael?”

“Because you ordered me to,” Michael replied, barely biting off the ‘sir’ he nearly added.

“Big deal. I ordered you to do something, you didn’t have to comply. Try again. Why did you follow my orders?”

He cocked his head to the side and studied Raff, puzzling out whatever point the man was trying to make.

White teeth contrasted brightly with dark skin when the big man smiled. “You followed my orders because you are a United States soldier and were
trained to do so without question.” The smile broadened when he added, “If you had done that to me you’d have gotten the same
response.”

The smile disappeared, Raff’s expression becoming serious. He leaned down slightly to be on eye level with Michael. “I’ll
tell you exactly what happened that day. You were given an order and you followed it, as did Jimmy and Ryan. Jimmy was a casualty of war. You did nothing
to contribute to his death, and if given the chance, you would have gladly taken his place. Friends don’t come any better than that.”

The tears that had threatened now broke free, and a large, fat drop rolled down Michael’s face, quickly followed by another, and another, until
they trickled in a steady stream down his chin to fall silently to the carpet.

“Look at me, Michael.” Though the words were softly spoken, Rafe made a command.

Michael lifted his head and watched Raff through tear-filled eyes.

“Michael Ritter, you are a good man and I’m proud to know you. A truer friend could not exist. But it’s time, Michael.
It’s time to let go of the guilt. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”

Suddenly exhausted, the remaining anger drained away, only to be replaced by huge wave of grief that pressed down like a giant hand. Yes, his rational mind
understood that Michael wasn’t to blame, but like a priest absolving a sinner, it took someone voicing what he already knew for the truth to
penetrate the guilt and fear, where rational thought held no sway.

Slowly sliding down the wall to the floor, he huddled into a ball, mourning for not only his lost friend, but for all the men in his unit who’d
been laughing and smiling one minute and forever silenced the next.

A quiet, “A-hem” caused him to glance up. A throw pillow, one of many scattered around the office, hovered in front of his nose.
Michael snatched it from Raff’s hand, wrapped his arms around the squishy fabric, and held the cushion like he wanted to be held. He pulled his
knees up and placed the pillow on top, burying his face in the soft comfort. His body shuddered as he surrendered the tight control he’d kept on
his emotions for so long. Hot tears and heartrending wails purged away the guilt, the doubt, and the sorrow as he finally opened up and released what
he’d kept locked inside.

He cried for Ryan, who’d found the love of his life at a very young age, but who, at twenty-three, faced a life alone, never again to see or hold
the one he’d hoped to grow old with. He cried also for his mother, who, at twice Ryan’s age had spent her whole life in a futile effort
to find a love that strong, and for his sister, who’d never held her son in her arms, and who would forever carry the weight of abandonment by
the child’s father.

Lastly he cried for himself, for the friend he had lost, and plans that had been made that would never see fruition. Sitting on the floor in his
counselor’s office, thousands of miles from the sands of Iraq, Michael Ritter opened his heart just enough to let someone out. Not that Jimmy
would ever be completely gone—he wouldn’t want that—but he banished the painful memories in a flood of hot tears, leaving
behind the good times.

And finally, he cried for the young boy who’d wanted nothing more than to please his parents, only to face mocking and ridicule by the man he
should have been able to look up to.

Hearing a groan, Michael looked over to see his counselor awkwardly attempting to ease his large body to the floor next to him. They sat side by side, Raff
calmly handing him tissues until the worst was over. The wracking wails turned to shuddering sobs, then subsided to silent tears.

Eventually the emotional storm passed. “We were all just kids, you know,” Michael began. “We wanted adventure, to get away
from home, and to earn money for college.”

“I know.”

A quick glance to his left revealed that the professional veneer had finally cracked. The choked response accompanied a wet face—Raff joining him
in grief. Dumbstruck, Michael sat with his mouth hanging open, watching the most stoic individual he knew indulging in an uncharacteristic display of
emotion.

The big man chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound, much like the purring of his grandparents’ ancient cat. With a bittersweet smile Raff explained,
“You forget, Michael, that I’m your counselor for a reason. It was the same in my time. Young people leave home, never fully knowing
what’s out there. Our parents try to prepare us, but there’s no telling where life will take you.”

“We were just a bunch of dumb kids with no clue what we were getting into. Hell, we thought anything was better than where we grew up.”
Michael shook his head, recalling a younger, headstrong version of himself. One that thought he knew it all and could handle any situation, whose only goal
was escaping the life he was living at the time. “Man, were we ever wrong.”

“Tell me about Jimmy,” Raff asked. “Not how he died, but how he lived.”

Lying back against the wall, Michael thought for a moment. “Jimmy was the biggest dreamer I’ve ever met, coming up with a new plan or
scheme every day.” Now able to smile at the bittersweet memory, Michael recalled his friend, unimpeded by the demons that had haunted him since
the day of the attack. They were strangely silent there in the tranquility of Raff’s office, in the aftermath of his emotional purging.
“One day he’d say he and Ryan were going to open a restaurant, the next day we were all gonna go to Aruba. You never got bored talking
to him ‘cause he could come up with some crazy assed shit to talk about.”

Turning to Raff he said, “You know, it’s the weirdest thing, but I’m still not convinced he was truly gay. When we were
alone, just the three of us, Ryan, Jimmy, and me, Ryan would talk about guys and how hot they were.” Heat suffused his cheeks at the memory.
“And they clued in to me immediately. They even brought it to my attention that I was covertly checking out guys, and they were fine with that.
But Jimmy? I never once heard him talk about guys, or even check them out. He didn’t talk about or look at girls, either. I honestly think Ryan
was the only person he ever saw in that light.”

Raff sounded truly interested when he asked, “How long had they been together?”

Thinking back to the stories Jimmy and Ryan had told him during their ‘getting acquainted’ conversations, he couldn’t hide a
tremulous smile at the bond the two men had shared. “They grew up together, met as kids and pretty much never parted.” Pausing for a
moment, Michael allowed himself a brief mental visit with his old friends, as they’d been when he’d first met them. “Jimmy
had a great family, but they were farmers and kind of poor, so he joined up for the college funds. Ryan had a bad home life and wanted out of his
situation. Not to mention that he would happily go wherever Jimmy did. Neither one expected what happened.”

“Where is Ryan now? Do you see him? Talk to him?”

“He moved in with his uncle. We talk all the time, but I haven’t seen him since I came home. Neither one was out to their families, so
he needs someone to talk to about Jimmy.”

“Then he’s lucky to have you.”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one. I’m seeing that now.” Michael abruptly changed the subject as he glanced at his watch.
“Look, I know we’ve got about fifteen more minutes, but would you mind if I just rested here for a few?”

“Whatever you need,” Raff replied.

Those words brought a smile to Michael’s face, an echo of the promise Jay had made on the porch—a promise repeatedly kept.

Raff groaned as he climbed from the floor. “Why don’t you stretch out on the couch, Michael? You’d be more
comfortable.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Michael assured him with a weak grin. He yawned and stretched out on the floor with the pillow, falling
asleep within minutes.

***

Jay tapped on the door and entered, surprised at first not to see Michael, until Raff pointed to the floor. There Michael lay, peacefully asleep, arms
curled tightly around a pillow.

“Keep him quiet, let him rest,” Raff said. “Depending on how he feels in the morning, he might need to take the day off and
relax. Emotionally he’s worn out.”

Rising from his desk and crossing the room to the stereo, the counselor removed a CD and returned it to its case, which he handed to Jay. With a quick
glance to Michael, he quietly instructed, “Be patient; he’s had a very hard day.”

Jay nodded and asked, “Did he finally talk?”

Raff shook his head and repeated, “Just be patient. And it wouldn’t be unusual for him to exhibit some volatile behavior.
Don’t take anything he says right now to heart. He’s dealing with a lot. Be there, offer your support. If things get bad, he has a
prescription for alprazolam that’ll help.”

Although frustrated that the man wasn’t more forthcoming, Jay appreciated doctor, or rather, counselor-patient confidentiality and
didn’t ask again. Instead he shook Raff’s hand. Whatever the man did helped. Michael’s condition seemed to be improving.

“C’mon, Blondie,” Jay said as he helped a sleepy Michael from the floor. “Let’s get you home.”

Michael mumbled a groggy good-bye to Raff and allowed Jay to guide him outside. As Jay tucked his exhausted lover in the car, he could have sworn he heard
Michael mumble, “Goodbye, Jimmy.”

***

“Hey, Big Guy, how’s it going?” Ryan sounded much less strained than in previous conversations, more like the happy-go-lucky
young recruit Michael remembered.

“Ryan!” he responded, pleased with the unexpected call. “I was just thinking about calling you.”

“Great minds think alike,” Ryan quipped.

Michael chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. How’re you doing?”

A long pause preceded the answer. “I’m doing better, actually. My uncle’s quit worrying so much, though my sister still
drives me crazy. How about you?”

“Fine.”. As the words left his mouth Michael realized that, unlike his usual automatic response to that question, this time he meant
it. Damn. When did that happen? When had he gone from merely existing to being ‘fine?’

The next question wasn’t so cheerfully answered, “Have you enrolled anywhere yet?”

Michael’s smile fell. He hadn’t yet decided what to do on that score and needed to make a decision—soon. “Not
yet,” he admitted, hoping Ryan would let it drop.