The Reclamation Project
Copyright© 2019 by OldSarge69
Chapter 2
“Dr. Wilson? Dr. Wilson?” a nurse said.
Jack stopped and turned around.
“Your patient in Room 514, Megan?”
“Yes,” Jack said.
“Well, she’s awake. We’ve removed the tubes from her mouth and throat but she won’t talk to us, won’t answer any of our questions. All she does is ask ‘Where’s John? Where’s the big guy? He promised me he wouldn’t leave me.’”
“I’ll go talk to her, Nurse,” Jack said, and began walking to Megan’s room.
When he walked in, the hospital bed was raised up so Megan was almost in a sitting position.
“Good morning, Megan,” Jack began. “How do you feel?”
“I remember you,” she cried out, in a very panicky voice, “you were at John’s house. Where is John? Where is he? He promised he wouldn’t leave me, that he would be here when I woke up. Where is he? Where is he?”
“John will be back soon, Megan, don’t worry,” Jack answered. “He didn’t want to leave but I had to threaten that if he didn’t leave and go home and change clothes ... and most importantly ... take a shower, then I would have to call in hospital security and the Hazmat Team and have him forcibly bathed.
“He hasn’t left your side for more than five minutes at a time, even insisting that he have all his meals brought up here. When we finally refused to bring him more food, he started ordering pizza and having it delivered here.
“He has really disrupted our hospital routine for the past three days with his constant demands,” Jack said.
“Three days? I’ve been here three days? And John hasn’t left my side...” Megan trailed off.
“Hasn’t left your side for three days,” Jack confirmed. “He only left about an hour ago, but should be back soon.
“John Anderson is the most stubborn, most troublesome man I have ever met,” Jack continued, but was now smiling. “And if he hadn’t found you, hadn’t taken you to his house, hadn’t called me when he saw how sick you were ... you would be dead right now!
“John saved your life ... and if you tell that mule-headed ex-Marine I ever said anything nice about him then I will not only deny it, but will recommend that you be transferred to the psych ward for a mental evaluation.
“I have never ... never seen John so concerned with ... with one of his girls before. Did he tell you about how he finds down on their luck girls, brings them to his home, feeds them, clothes them, and if they are willing, helps them start a new life? Even pays for school, or vocational training if they want.”
“We really didn’t have much opportunity to talk,” Megan said. “After I ate and he explained the rules, I went to bed. I remember I couldn’t breathe, then he was putting cold wash cloths on me and then you were there.
“The rest is real hazy. I remember you had a needle that looked like it was about three feet long, then you said you had to get the fluid out of my lungs. I was so scared. But then John was holding my hand and his face was almost beside mine ... and I wasn’t scared anymore.
“Doctor ... uhh, I don’t even know your name.”
“Dr. Jack Wilson,” Jack said, “but friends of John can call me Jack.”
“Jack, back at his house ... while I was eating and he was explaining the rules ... I kept looking because I have never seen anyone with eyes so sad before.
“What happened, Jack? What made him so sad?”
“Did John explain that he will never lie to you,” John replied, “but sometimes he will only give you the short answer, saving the longer version for later?”
Megan nodded.
“Well, the short answer is this. A little over three years ago Jack was serving a tour in Afghanistan, and I had to call his company commander and have his company commander let John know that his wife ... his wife and daughter were both dead.”
“What happened, Jack?” Megan asked.
“As far as what happened, that is part of the long answer and only John can tell you that. But don’t expect that to happen any time soon.
“I have been over to Jack’s house numerous times, and the house is filled with pictures of both of them. Sometimes he will just stop, right in the middle of a conversation, go over and pick up a picture and stare at it 10, 15 or 20 minutes or more. Then he’ll put the picture down and start right back with that same conversation.
“Megan, I have to warn you. John has not said either one’s name out loud in over three years. Sometimes I don’t know if I am helping John or hurting him even more. You see, John’s wife was my baby sister. Every time he sees me...”
“He sees his wife in you,” Megan finished the sentence.
“Well, Shirley was a lot better looking than I am,” Jack said, “but yes. Every time he sees me he is reminded of Shirley.
“Megan, John is one of the strongest, toughest men I have ever known. He will NEVER tell you this, but he was wounded three times and earned a Navy Cross and two Silver Stars during four tours of Iraq and Afghanistan. He is a legitimate hero.
“But when he came back to bury his wife and daughter ... he was a broken man. He only had nine months to go until he could retire, but started talking about just getting out. I don’t know if I helped or hurt, but I convinced him to stay in another nine months.
“He went back to Camp Lejeune ... and started drinking. Just a little at first. From what his friends told me, he would go to the Enlisted Club two or three times a week and have a beer or two after work. Then it became three or four times a week, and two or three beers. Then five or six times a week and five or six or seven beers.
“He also started leaving work early in order to drink. Thank God he had friends who looked out for him, kept him out of serious trouble and kept his name out of reports.
“After he retired, he came back here and continued drinking more and more. Until one day he wrapped his truck around a tree. At his DUI trial, the judge ordered him to attend an alcohol treatment program and I would visit him several times a week.
“Another thing you have to understand about John is that he IS the most stubborn, pig-headed, mule-brained person I have ever met. He is even worse than me, and that is saying a LOT.
“You don’t EVER tell John what to do. What you can do is start talking, like you are thinking out loud, then say something like, ‘Well, that would never work, so just forget about it.’
“Once you tell John that something can’t be done ... well, then you just have to wait. I mentioned one day at the treatment facility that it was a shame there wasn’t a place like this for young, homeless girls where they could be fed, clothed and given a second chance. Then I told him that was a really stupid idea, that it would never work.
“Two weeks later, when John left the treatment facility he had a mission. Marines are simple minded types of people. Give them a mission and they are happy. They have a saying, ‘The Impossible We Do Immediately, Miracles Take A Little Longer.’
“It was too late to save his...” and Jack stopped speaking when he realized what he had inadvertently revealed.
“His daughter was a runaway? She was living on the streets?” Megan asked. “He told me he had lost someone he cared a great deal for, but I didn’t realize he was talking about his own daughter.”
“Ahh, Megan, I should never have said that,” Jack told her. “If John finds out he will be furious with me.”
“Don’t worry, Jack,” Megan reassured him, “I’ll never mention it.”
“Anyway, when he got out of the program, he already had the ... he called it ‘The Reclamation Project’ ... the basics down. We just finalized some of the details, then about 18 months ago he picked up the first girl from that same bus stop in Atlanta where he found you. By the way, you are the 13th one in 18 months.”
“Unlucky 13,” Megan said.
“Or, perhaps Lucky 13,” Jack challenged her. “That depends upon you. Jack has had some good successes and some bad failures. Three of the girls are now in college or vocational school, two have been reunited with their families, and three others are working and supporting themselves.”
“What about the others?” Megan asked.
“Two of the girls left that first night, having been fed and with new clothes and $500. One of those bought heroin and OD’d, we don’t know anything about the other. Two of the girls seemed to be doing very well, had good jobs, then they just disappeared.”
“And John never became ... personally involved ... with any of them?” Megan asked.
“Not ... the way I think you mean, no. And believe me it wasn’t because some ... maybe most ... of the girls weren’t willing. John’s personal code of honor ... that Marine Corps stubbornness ... wouldn’t allow him to, as he put it, take advantage of vulnerable young girls.
“Megan, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but as far as I know, John hasn’t dated, or been involved with any woman since his wife died.
“And another thing I probably shouldn’t say, but will. I have never seen John so concerned about anyone the way he has been concerned about you.”
Jack walked over and picked up Megan’s hand.
“One final thing I need to say. John has kept everything ... all his emotions ... all his feelings ... all his anger bottled up for over three years. Sooner or later it will come out. And when it does ... I don’t know how he will react. He ... I don’t say this lightly ... he could be a danger to himself or anyone too close to him.
“I’m not trying to scare you, Megan, but sooner or later those emotions are going to come out. Probably some little something ... God knows what ... will trigger an outburst and I don’t think anyone can predict how he will react. He may even become violent. I don’t think he will, but you CAN’T keep those feelings bottled up forever ... not without it killing you.”
About that time, a nurse came in and told Jack that the results of the blood work were finally back.
“I’ve got to go check those results but will return shortly. John should be back soon. Please don’t let John know ... know what we’ve talked about.
“Oh, one more thing. You are something of a medical miracle around here,” Jack said with a grin.
“What do you mean, medical miracle?” Megan asked.
“You are the only patient I’ve ever seen who has actually gained weight while being intravenously fed,” Jack said. “Usually patients LOSE weight, not gain weight. I think your body was so starved for nutrition, it is just feasting on what we have been able to put inside you for the past three days.”
“That reminds me,” Megan said, “when can I start eating real food? I’m hungry!”
“I’ll let the nurses know,” Jack said, laughing as he walked out the door.
John returns:
About five minutes later, I walked in and the first thing I saw was Megan’s smiling face.
“Good morning, Megan,” I said, “How you feeling this morning?” I couldn’t keep a big smile off my own face.
“Now that you are here, a lot better, John.” Megan said. “Please give me a hug. Please? I remember from the other night what a good hugger you are.”
Being very careful with all the tubes running into both arms, Megan sat up some more and I put my arms around her back.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” I told Megan. “That bastard Jack told me if I didn’t go home and change clothes and take a shower he was going to have me arrested.”
“It’s okay, John,” Megan said. “I really missed you when I woke up, but Jack explained why you weren’t here.
“He also told me you hadn’t left my side for three days. Three days!”
I laughed.
“Well, I was a little worried about you,” I told her with a smile.
“John, Jack said you saved my life. If it hadn’t been for you I would have died that same night you found me.”
“All I did was make a phone call,” I told her, trying to downplay my role.
“Jack was the one who saved your life,” I added. “He really is an amazing doctor and person.
“And if you EVER tell him I EVER said anything nice about him ... well, I’ll deny it and ... well, I don’t know what else I’ll do, but I’ll think of something.”
Megan laughed.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I told her. “When I got here they said you were awake, so I stopped at the gift shop downstairs and got you something.” I handed her a gift wrapped package. “The lady downstairs said it’s one of their most popular items.”
“What is it? What is it?” Megan excitedly asked, ripping apart the package. Then, “A hair brush. God, it’s been so long since I’ve had a hair brush. I can’t remember the last time I actually brushed my hair instead of just using my fingers to straighten it out some.”
Then I heard her say in a disappointed voice, “But I don’t think I can brush my hair with these tubes in both arms.”
Then Megan looked at me.
“John, I ... I hate to ask you this ... but would you brush my hair for me? Please?”
When she didn’t get an immediate answer, Megan looked at me a little more closely.
“John, are you all right?” she asked. “You look a little pale.”
“Y-Y-Yes,” I stammered, “I just wasn’t expecting you to ask me that.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Megan responded, “I know that ex-Marines probably don’t get asked that question very often.”
“N-N-No,” I again stammered, “that’s not it. It’s just that I haven’t brushed anyone’s hair in a long time.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure you want me to brush your hair?” (Megan nodded her head).
“I ... I haven’t had anyone brush my hair since I was a very little girl,” Megan shyly said.
“Didn’t your mother ever brush your hair?” I asked.
“My Mom used to when I was little, but ... but she died when I was six. Dad remarried when I was eight, and my step-mom and I never got along very well,” Megan said.
“That explains a few things,” I thought to myself.
After the first night at the hospital, I had asked Jack to pick up my laptop from home, and for the past two days I had searched for runaways named Megan in every Southern state.
I finally found her when I searched “Alabama,” complete with a missing person photo, and that led to Florida and the tragic events concerning her father. But we could talk about that later. For now, it was probably better not to bring up the past. At least, not until she was a lot better and stronger.
“Well, if you can sit up and swing your legs towards the side of the bed with your back to me, I’ll give it a try,” I said.
In a few minutes we were ready. I warned Megan that the first few minutes might be a little painful since her hair was pretty tangled. Using my fingers and the brush I soon had the worst of the tangles out of the way and could start to brush in earnest.
For Megan, the experience was totally new. She could remember her real Mom brushing her hair, but really couldn’t remember how it had felt. Just that she had always felt ... safe and secure and ... and loved.
At first, it was strange. Then that feeling changed to ... comfortable. Slowly, that feeling changed to something that Megan had never felt before. And wasn’t even sure she wanted to feel. The hair brushing was becoming ... pleasurable. Intensely pleasurable.
Megan also began to notice a difference in the way her body was responding to having her hair brushed. At first she felt a ... a tingling in her breasts. A tingling she realized that was causing her nipples to get hard. And ... and that tingling was slowly spreading down her body, down to her stomach and then lower.
With a shock, Megan realized that not only were her nipples getting harder and harder but she could feel herself getting wet “down there.”
“What the hell is happening to me?” she wondered to herself. She actually heard herself moan softly.
Megan remembered a conversation with one of her street friends from several years ago. What was her name? Oh, yeah, Jill. Jill had been talking to her about ... what had Jill called it? Not sexual but another word? Sensual. That was it, sensual.
“It’s a feeling of closeness with someone, a feeling of utter contentment, of intimacy,” Jill said.
“Intimacy?” Megan had asked her with some disdain in her voice. “You mean sex?”
“Not necessarily sex,” Jill had said, “but it often leads to sex and usually the best sex you’ve ever had.”
“Sex” to Megan was not necessarily a positive word. In Megan’s world, sex was just a transaction with her body as the coin, used to pay for food and a place to stay. With a little luck, sex meant 30 or 40 dollars, sometimes more.
When she had been really desperate, sex sometimes just meant a single meal. Like the night she met John. She knew she was getting weaker and weaker and nearing the end. If she didn’t get something to eat soon ... well, she had been willing to use the only “coin” in her possession for a single hamburger.
The best thing about sex, Megan felt, was it didn’t usually last very long. And if she could use her mouth instead ... it was easier to clean up afterward and less chance of getting pregnant. Just spit, wash her mouth out and it was over.
Now, though ... now Megan could almost feel there was an explosion building in her body. The feeling was becoming so strong that Megan knew if she didn’t stop it ... then, then ... she didn’t know what. She had never felt anything like this before.
Abruptly, John stopped brushing her hair and she heard the brush hit the bed. And she also heard something that almost sounded like...
Megan turned around and was astonished to see that John was crying, tears streaming down his face.
She had only seen one other man cry and that had been her father, when her mother had died of cancer. And there had been that one other time, just a month before her father had taken a gun and ... don’t think about that.
“What’s wrong, John?” she asked as her hand reached up until her fingertips could brush away the tears. “Why are you crying?”
At first John didn’t answer her, then she heard him say, “I haven’t brushed a woman’s hair in so long. Not in almost four years, just before my last tour in Afghanistan. I used to brush Shirley’s hair all the time.”
Megan froze. She remembered Jack telling her that John had not said his late wife’s name out loud in over three years.
“Shirley used to love for me to brush her hair, and I loved doing it. She had long, thick hair, like yours.”
John was already sitting on the side of the bed, so Megan scooted over until she could raise one arm, with the tubes over his head, until she could put both arms around him. As her arms tightened, John instinctively wrapped his arms around her as well.
Megan gasped as her blood-engorged nipples were pressed against John, and then she felt his big, strong, warm hands against her naked back through the opening in the hospital gown.
And for the first time in her life, Megan wanted to feel more of a man’s hands. For the first time she wanted a man ... no, John! ... to touch her everywhere. She wanted to feel his hands cup and fondle her breasts, she wanted to feel his fingers inside her. She wanted ... needed to feel his mouth and teeth and tongue on her hard nipples. She wanted him to push her legs apart and wanted to feel him thrust his hardness between her legs and deep inside her.
Megan cried out as she felt the first orgasm of her life. And as powerful as that explosion was, it was almost nothing to what came next.
Another explosion, but inside her heart this time as walls that had been built up for over nine years, since her father died, tumbled down.
Megan gasped again as she felt that second, even more powerful explosion expand throughout her body from the top of her head racing to every fiber of her being.
“I love you, John,” she suddenly heard herself say, and gasped yet again as she felt the truthfulness, the rightness of those words.
She felt John stiffen at hearing those words, then heard the sobs begin as his grip on her tightened.
Megan heard the room door open and looked up and saw the absolute astonishment in Jack’s face as he saw the scene before him and heard the words John said next.
“No one can love me, no one can ever love me,” she (and Jack) heard John say. “I am a failure, I couldn’t protect my wife, Shirley, I couldn’t protect my daughter, Helen. I couldn’t protect anyone.
“The Marine Corps gave me all these ... these useless medals ... called me some kind of ... of fucking hero ... and I couldn’t protect my wife and daughter. They are dead because I couldn’t protect them.”
Megan lifted one hand, motioning Jack back outside. He just nodded his head and closed the door.
“You are not a failure, John,” she said. “You are the kindest, most caring person I have ever met. And I do love you, do you hear, I do love you.”
The sobs from John began then in earnest. Body wracking, heart wrenching sobs as John let three years’ worth of grief out.
“I couldn’t help them,” John repeated over and over. “They are dead ... because I wasn’t there for them. You can’t ... no one can love me again.”
“Let it out, John, let it out,” Megan told him, her own tears also streaming down her face. “You can’t keep it bottled up.
“You didn’t kill Shirley, you didn’t kill Helen. You can’t blame yourself for something you had nothing to do with, do you hear me?”
Megan wasn’t sure how much time passed as she and John (her John, she realized) cried together, but finally the sobs began easing off.
John continued holding her for many minutes until, finally, he pulled back and she saw his face flush slightly.
“You must think I am a complete idiot,” he began, but Megan quickly put his fingers against his lips.
“I think you are the sweetest, most caring, most ... most loving man I have ever known,” she said.
“But, John, you are still only a man. You may be a tough Marine and all that, but you are not Superman. You can’t save the world. People do stupid things. And ultimately, people are responsible for their own actions.
“I don’t know how Shirley or Helen died, but I would be honored if you would like to talk about them. Maybe it would help ... help if you finally unburdened yourself.”
Slowly, I began telling about the final six months of life for my wife and daughter.
“I had occasionally heard that mothers and daughters sometimes butt heads, but I didn’t believe it would ever happen in my family. They were so much alike in so many ways. Both strong, both stubborn, both sometimes determined to have things their own way.”
How Helen, who was 16, had started dating a guy without Shirley knowing about it at first. Then when Shirley found out, and learned that the guy was 24, she demanded that Helen break off the relationship. When Helen refused, Shirley told her that if she didn’t she would kick her out of the house.
“I don’t think Shirley actually meant it, she was just trying to shock Helen, but Helen became furious and left with the guy.”
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