I glance behind us at the crooked building and recall its basement full of wounded. A beacon of death to those who are too far gone to make it. “Yeah, I’m fine, the smell of blood just gets to me. You’re really good at that, you know.” I nod behind us. “We’re lucky to have a medic like you.”
He doesn’t reply right away. Just blinks a couple of times, processing. I’ve noticed that he does that a lot when he thinks before speaking. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save Adams. I did everything I could, but …”
I shake my head and position my rifle now that we’re in the woods again. “You shouldn’t be sorry for something you didn’t do. You weren’t the one who sent that late mortar.”
We’re silent for a time until Perkins asks something nobody else has. “What are you going to do once the war is over? I’ve heard everyone else talking about it, but never you.”
It’s a common question among foxholes and campfires. Everyone enjoys looking to the future like they can already see themselves there. Away from this place.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I guess I haven’t thought about it much. What about you? Are you going to keep doing the doctor thing?”
“No, probably not. I would be happy if I never saw another wounded person ever again. But that may be my only option.”
I smile and look back at him. “Oh, come on. With a face like yours, you could become a model for one those romance novels.”
“Why don’t you shut your smart mouth and keep walking,” he says, his mouth turning up. “But seriously, you’ve got to have some idea of what you’re gonna to do.”
I can only shake my head in response. It’s hard to look into the future that far, while knowing nothing good will come from it. Because what I confessed to Harper about having nothing going for me can’t be truer.
“I take one day at a time and see where it takes me,” I tell him. “It’s the only thing I can do right now.”
“That doesn’t seem like any way to live,” he says behind me.
I take a long breath and say, “It’s not.”
28.
Harper
After dinner—which Kale never showed up to—Uncle Jasper and I retreat into the living room to watch whatever happens to be on television. Aunt Holly used to join us for the first ten minutes until she got bored, leaving the two of us laughing while she cleaned the kitchen or curled up in her chair to read her latest book.
Now, with the dishes already put away and dishwasher purring from the other room, we watch the remake of True Grit with bowls of ice cream in our laps, each of us in our respective chairs. It’s been a quiet evening. We didn’t talk much over dinner—just listened to the crickets outside and the bullfrogs in the distance. Even though it was a perfect summer night, neither of us felt like venturing outside.
And oddly enough, it was the first time we sat down for dinner since I got here. Subconsciously, we may have been avoiding it until now. Aunt Holly was the one who called us in for dinner each night, never missing a moment when we could all sit down together. She said it was against the law; there was no reason why we couldn’t be together for one meal a day.
When Uncle Jasper came home and the smell of macaroni and cheese greeted him, he didn’t say anything. He just stood in the doorway for a little while and then smiled. He paid some bills at the table while it cooked, and I kept looking at the clock, wondering when Kale would come over.
My eyes constantly wandered over to the point in the kitchen where we had kissed earlier that morning. I couldn’t convince myself any longer that Kale was merely the boy the next door. I’m not sure if he ever was.
But when dinner was cooked and I set the plates on the table—forcing Uncle Jasper to move his papers aside—Kale had yet to appear.
“Are we expecting someone?” Uncle Jasper finally asked after I glanced at the clock again.
“Kale said if he was still here, he would come, but …” I glanced at the door once more before settling in my chair. “I guess he’s gone.” And I already missed him.
“He’ll be back.” Uncle Jasper dipped his head to catch my eye. “He always is. Remember that.”
I watched him eat for a little while before starting on my own. And even though Kale was gone—more gone than anyone could ever be—I realized Uncle Jasper would always be there. He was someone I could count on.
The movie ends and the local news comes up next. Neither of us make a move to get up or do anything besides sit here. I keep waiting for Kale to walk through the door and make my heart jump, something I know won’t happen for another few days. It’s weird knowing he’s in the past right now, nowhere to be found until he comes back.
“All right,” Uncle Jasper says, muting the news anchor. “What is it?”
I look over. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you’ve been thinking about something for the last ten minutes, and it’s obviously not something good. So, come out with it, kid. What are you thinking about?”
“Kale and his dad.”
Uncle Jasper leans away, nodding. “I see.”
He un-mutes the news and continues watching.
“That’s it?” I expected more.
“What else do you want me to say?”
I throw up my hands “I don’t know. Maybe figure out a way to help him?”
After a long moment he finally turns off the television—all the way this time. “I know how hard it is not being able to do anything, but this really is between Kale and his dad. Kale needs to figure out who he is before anything can change.”
“He admitted today it’s his own fault for leaving so much,” I tell him, thinking back to this morning in the kitchen. “I think he knew before now but never wanted to believe it.”
Uncle Jasper nods while standing, going over to the window as though to watch Kale come up the driveway. “He leaves because of his father, but in doing so, he makes it worse on himself. It’s been hard for him to realize that, after all this time. It’s like admitting you’re wrong after it’s too late.”
“When did it become this bad?”
“After Courtney left, I think that’s when Kale started leaving more. He didn’t want to be home because all it did was remind him his mom wasn’t there, and he kept thinking it was his fault, like all kids usually do. Then he only had his dad to come home to, who was sick of putting up with something he didn’t understand. Once Kale got expelled from school, that’s when he really started to leave more often.”
He gives me a weak smile before heading out the door and walking toward the barn, his shoulders tighter than usual. I finally take my leave and go upstairs to play Xbox until my eyes hurt, not wanting to think about anything else.
A couple days pass in a blur of helping Uncle Jasper, grocery shopping, and hanging out with Grace. Even now she sits on my bed playing Battlefield while I fold my laundry. She doesn’t have the headset on, but she yells at the screen nonetheless like the other people will hear her. This one tank has killed her three times in a row, and she looks a bit crazed with her curly hair coming out of her ponytail.