“That’s because you haven’t slept in two days.”
I don’t argue with that and ask again, “Where did you go?”
He nods his head a little, motioning me to sit down next to him. He waits for a doctor to pass before taking something from his pocket. A misshapen bullet sits in the palm of his hand.
“Is that …” It’s the bullet Kale was shot with.
Uncle Jasper puts it away, glancing down the hallway again. “He’s lucky he wasn’t shot with something bigger. I’m guessing it’s from a sidearm. Maybe an officer’s gun, if I could guess.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because he would be dead otherwise.”
A couple of nurses walk by, and Uncle Jasper’s eyes follow them like he’s going to be caught doing something.
I narrow my eyes. “How did you get that?”
“We can’t let them examine it,” he says. “How could I explain a bullet from World War II being lodged in his shoulder?”
I nod slowly. “That would be a tough one.”
He settles deeper into his chair and looks over. “Did he say anything about what happened?”
I tell him everything I can remember. About Kale being shot and his squad thinking he was already dead before he left. As far as they knew, he died in those woods on January 8.
“So they marked him as killed in action because, to them, that’s exactly what happened. But instead, he came back home.” Uncle Jasper takes off his hat and lays it on his knee, sighing.
“I’m glad you turned out to be right,” I tell him.
“About what?”
“About history being wrong.” I lean my head on his shoulder, finally able to rid the worry built up within me. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look him up on the Internet again.”
“Hopefully you won’t have to. Before he started going back to World War II, he was rarely in any kind of danger. To tell you the truth, it doesn’t make sense if the past pulled him back only to be shot. Did he say anything about what happened before?”
“No, nothing.” I lift my head to look at him. “But I do remember something about the article online, because it wasn’t about him at all. Kale was only mentioned in it.”
“What was it about, do you remember?”
“It was about this guy who was a medic in World War II.” I shake my head, unable to recall what it said. “I should read it again and ask Kale about it. It’ll probably clear up everything.”
“I would be curious to know,” he says. “Whatever it was, I hope it was worth him going through all that.”
A little while later, Miles shows up, followed by Kale’s dad, his hair in disarray and his shoes tied in hasty knots. I watch silently from my chair—too tired to listen or even move—as the nurses try to tell him Kale is going to be okay, but Uncle Jasper is the only one who’s able to calm him down.
Miles sits next to me, for once not smiling or trying to make a joke.
Peter says a few words to Uncle Jasper before following the nurse into the room. I would give a lot to see him right now, but I would give even more to have him healed and back home where he belongs.
After a little while, the nurse tells us we have to leave—family members only, even when there’s only one right now, and I can’t fight to stay, even when I want to. Miles says he’s going to stay a while longer and the staff don’t fight him about it. I follow Uncle Jasper through the maze of halls and then outside to the truck.
At some point on the way home, without even knowing it, I fall asleep. Not even waking when Uncle Jasper carries me up to my room.
The blood stains on my hands when I wake in the morning are the only proof I need to know that what happened with Kale wasn’t a dream.
45.
Kale
After three days of being in the hospital, I’m on my way home.
My shoulder is sore but healed, something the doctors were more than curious to know about. They had a hard time letting me go home, but after having no excuses for me to stay under observation, they didn’t have much choice.
I blamed my fast healing on one of the nurse’s “loving touch,” and while they were laughing at that, Dad and I made our escape.
Those three days went by excruciatingly slow. I still had a hard time sleeping—whether it was sleeping in a hospital bed, or something else, I don’t know. The first thing I did when I woke up after they took the bullet from my shoulder was make Dad promise he wouldn’t call Mom.
The fewer people who know about this, the better.
I don’t want her to think I’m not fit to live with Dad—not like she took any notice before—but it’s something I don’t want to risk. Libby would never be able to come back home if Mom found out. That’s why I made him promise not to ever tell her about anything.
Some things are better left unknown.
Even something as big as this.
As for Uncle Jasper and Harper, I haven’t seen them since the ambulance drove me away from the house. It’s my fault, really, because I told them not to visit.
They already saw me at my worst, and I didn’t want them to see me until I was myself again. And I know it’s hard for Uncle Jasper to be in the hospital—especially the same one Aunt Holly died in. I wanted that whole hospital thing to be over as soon as possible.
And now it finally is.
“How are you feeling?” Dad asks. “Are you all right? We can go back if you need to.”
“I’m fine, really.”
He keeps glancing over. “Are you sure?”
“Dad, really. I told you I heal a little faster than normal, so why don’t you believe me? Plus, even if you don’t believe me, you can at least believe the doctors.”
Dad nods and turns his attention back to the road.
“I just …” He hasn’t said much over the last few days. Maybe now he’s finally able to say what’s been on his mind. He probably thinks I haven’t noticed, but I have. “I was really worried about you, Kale.” He looks over. “I’ve always had this fear of you never coming back. And when I got the call about you being shot, I thought that was it. That I would be never get the chance to be the dad you deserved to have.”
It’s not something I expected him to admit.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wanting to say something more, because he has every right to feel that way. I’m the one who leaves people to worry about me while I’m gone.
“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” he says. “It’s not like you had a choice.”
“Maybe if I tried harder … if I was stronger.” I don’t know.
The truck slows down, and he pulls over to the side of the road. He slowly takes his hands from the wheel and looks over.