Chapter 6

Bob woke to the feel of a warm woman in his arms, and the smell of sex in the air. He had to pee. The lights were still on. He couldn't see the clock, but he was pretty sure it was very late. Julia slept, her mouth agape, her body loose and relaxed.

She didn't wake as he rolled away from her. Instead she pulled up into a ball, perhaps because he was withdrawing his warmth.

He hopped to the latrine and took care of business, including washing off his sticky, gooey penis. The memory of what had happened flooded his mind. He was confused. He was still quite sure she wasn't lying about her inexperience. She didn't do this with every GI she happened to run into. But he couldn't believe she was that interested in him. Insecurity, based on losing a part of his body, wasn't banished easily.

She had let him cum in her. Twice. Maybe she was on the pill. But why would she be on the pill? She said she didn't have a boyfriend. Did women take the pill anyway, just in case? He didn't think so. She would have said so. And she had said if she was pregnant she was pregnant. That bent his mind too.

This was just too good to be true. That was the problem. His superstitious mind couldn't account for this much good happening without something bad being there to counterbalance it.

She was leaving in the morning. That was bad. He looked at the clock. It was two-fifteen.

He decided that if he only had six or seven hours left with her, he was going to make it count. He hopped to the light switch, and then to the bed in the dark. He rolled her over, thinking she'd wake up. She didn't. He pulled the covers down and rolled her back. She moaned in her sleep. He pulled his own covers down, got in, got arranged, and pulled the covers up over both of them.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice muzzy with sleep.

"Covering us up," he said.

"Mmmm." She scooted over and cuddled against him.

He worked an arm under her and pulled her close, kissing her hair. It smelled good.

He had been hoping to have sex again, but this was fine. She trusted him, wanted him, was snuggled up to him. After eight months of discomfort, terror and pain, this was just as good as sex.

Ten minutes later his mouth was gaping open in sleep too.

Morning wasn't quite as comfortable, at least not for Julia, who was not used to waking up in bed with a man. Even a man she liked. Nor was she used to waking up full of very dangerous sperm which, in the heat of the moment she had craved, but now that the cold light of reason was illuminating things, didn't seem nearly so desirable.

Then he woke too and smiled at her, a smile that was so genuine, and so happy, that she pushed negative thoughts away. Still, she was in no mood for fooling around.

"When should I leave?" she asked, sitting up. She was mildly astonished that being naked in his presence didn't bother her in the least. In fact, being naked in front of him made her feel very good.

"I really hate to say this," he said, sounding like he really hated to say it, "but the sooner the better."

"What will you tell them?" she asked.

"I don't know yet."

"Will you get into trouble?"

"People will be unhappy, but what can they really do? I'll pay for the room. I know they said it was a donation, but I'll offer to pay."

"I don't want to go," she sighed.

"I don't want you to." His eyes raked her naked body and she suddenly felt nude, in stead of naked, as if that made any sense at all.

"I should get dressed," she said.

"I wish you didn't have to."

"What did last night mean?" she asked suddenly.

He thought for a handful of seconds. "It's hard to put into words," he said slowly. "When I think about what happened the first word I think of is 'important.' I mean I don't have a lot of experience with that kind of thing in my life, and it was fantastic and all that, but it was also important to me. Does that make sense?"

She nodded, and her brow furrowed.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked.

"Of course," she said.

"I want to say I love you ... but we ... I'm not sure I really understand what love is, and I don't want to screw things up between us."

He looked worried.

"Does that make sense?"

She nodded again. "I think I understand that very well. I have these feelings for you and they scare me. I mean I just don't do what I did last night."

"I know," he said. "But I have to tell you, I'm sure glad you broke your rule."

She looked at his naked shoulders and felt a tingle in her groin.

"I'm pretty sure the only reason the rule got broken was because it was with you," she said.

Then she turned and hurried to grab some clothes and escape into the bathroom before things got out of control again.

He really wanted to follow her into the bathroom. His motives were mixed. The base male in him wanted the woman again ... to breed her again. On a higher plane he just wished he could watch her as she did normal, routine things ... whatever she did to get ready to go somewhere. Even watching her brush her teeth would be fun, especially if she did it naked.

But he was also aware that the time for shenanigans had passed. He didn't want to think about the possibility that the previous night was the only time something like that would happen between them. His intellect told him that was possible, perhaps even likely, but he didn't want to contemplate that now. Instead, he closed his eyes and relived what he could remember of it. It seemed to have happened so quickly! He concentrated on her scent, and the feel of her skin against his. The warm clasp of her sex on his manhood was easy to remember, but the sweet agony of orgasm escaped him, except that he knew it had felt wonderful.

He was getting hard, so he stopped daydreaming and got up. He dressed. He'd take a shower after she left, before he went back to the SFAC and told them she had gone. He didn't really care what they said. At least it would be a diversion from the normal boring day, even if they yelled at him.

He had gathered up her belongings and had them all on the bed when she came out dressed, as usual, in jeans and a T shirt. She packed in silence. He watched her, and enjoyed being able to. Before she closed her suitcase she removed a pen from it. There was a pad by the phone in the room and she wrote on it.

"Here's my number and address," she said. "I really hope you write to me. You can call too, but I really love getting letters from you."

"I'll write one to the kids too. I'll explain why it's been so long since I wrote."

"I told them you were on a secret mission, which was why you hadn't written," she said.

He laughed. She stopped him with a kiss. When that was over he stared into her eyes.

"I don't do one night stands," he said. "I may not remember everything, but I know you're important to me, because last night wouldn't have happened if you weren't."

"I have to leave," she said, breathlessly. "If I don't, I won't."

"I'll walk you to the car," he said.

"No. If you do that it will only extend the pain. I'm barely in control right now."

"All right."

He stayed where he was as she picked up her suitcase and went to the door, her keys in her hand. She opened the door and then turned around.

"If I fell in love with you ... would you be upset?" she asked.

"No," he said immediately.

"Find out if you have a girlfriend," she said.

"I will."

"Call me when you know."

"I will."

She ran then, leaving the door open. He went to it and saw her bypass the elevator and go into the stairwell. He could hear the rapid thump of her shoes on the treads as she darted down, away from him.

He didn't try to get to a place where he could see her running to the car. He knew it would hurt too much.

Lois Freebinder was a nineteen year old civilian, who had worked for the Army for a grand total of three months. She felt lucky to have the job, because DOD jobs were cherry, and hard to get. She intended to work hard and get well into the system, which was known to take care of those who fit in. That she was a glorified hotel clerk didn't bother her a bit. The work was easy and she got to go home on time. She got paid better than minimum wage and had benefits too.

So when the confused looking soldier tried to explain that his sister, who had been staying in one of the Fisher houses, had to leave for an emergency back home, and that he'd never even gotten her properly registered, she tried to be helpful. She asked for the sister's name, which he gave her. She asked for her address and phone number next.

"She moved," he said, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't even know where she was until she came to see me."

"Did she tell you where she moved?" asked Lois.

He blinked and then pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket. He held it out and she unfolded it to see an address and phone number.

"Perfect," said Lois. She typed things into the computer. "How long have you been here?" she asked.

He told her, thinking that she was just being pleasant, but she looked in a book and said "That makes her visit free. What house and room number?"

He told her. She typed some more and then smiled happily. "That's it. Thanks for getting it taken care of."

He was amazed at how simple it had been. Nobody cared that she had never provided proof of ID. They just checked boxes and filled blanks and the system rolled on.

On impulse, when he left the guest housing office, he returned to records management. He told the clerk he had an update for his records.

Within ten minutes his DD Form 93 had been updated with a new address and phone number for Claudia Strangline, Bob's next of kin.

Half an hour after that, he informed the SFAC that his sister had been called back home because of a family emergency, but that her room had been taken care of. When asked if she wanted to submit a travel claim, he simply said "No."

It wasn't at the exact same moment that Bob had lied on his DD Form 93, or to the SFAC, but it was the same day, some hours later. Claudia Strangline, exhausted and wringing wet, gave one final exhausted push, and finally had her baby.

The team of doctors and nurses hovering around Claudia split their attention between mother and child. To keep from losing the baby, Claudia had been flat on her back for three months. Prior to that she'd been to the doctor so many times she couldn't remember them all. While carrying any baby to term is a feat worthy of praise, for Claudia it had been a herculean event. Doctors were convinced a number of times that they'd lose one, the other or both of them.

But now the worst was over. Toxemia was no longer the issue. Now Claudia just needed to regain her strength and health. The baby was pronounced to be in perfect health and placed gently on his mother's breast. Claudia, so weak it took all her strength to place both hands on her son, smiled happily.

It would take her almost another month to fully recuperate. During that month she would think of her little brother often. She felt bad because she hadn't written to him for most of her pregnancy. The news was always bad, and he had enough on his plate, stuck in a foreign land, in danger's way. And then, when she was hospitalized, she didn't want him to know that either. Then Josh was offered the promotion he so richly deserved. But that meant moving to Kansas City. She was in the hospital, and could do nothing. Still, this was what would secure their future, so she told him to take it. The company sent movers to pack and move everything to the new house. The realtor took care of having the old house cleaned and readied for showing. Josh worked on the nursery at the new house, and commuted to see her, because she didn't want to change doctors at this stage of things. Plus nobody would make any guarantees about the safety of moving her to a hospital in Kansas City.

She resisted writing him until she was well enough that she could say truthfully that she had good news, and nothing but good news. Now she could tell him he was an uncle, and send pictures, and beg his forgiveness for being so distracted for so long. She was sure she'd done the right thing in remaining silent all these months.

Until the letter she sent was returned, undeliverable, because the soldier was "No longer assigned in theater."

Bob entered the office and sat down in a chair across the desk from Colonel Bell, who was leafing through a file. He looked up.

"So, how do you feel today?"

Bob, who still thought about Julia most of the day, shrugged.

"About the same, I guess."

Bell frowned. "I was hoping that the visitor you had recently might have improved your spirits."

Bob stared. "How did you know I had a visitor?"

"All visitors are logged into the file. Why didn't you tell me you had a sister, Bob?"

"It's one of the things I couldn't remember," said Bob, shrugging. "And the weird thing was that I found out about it the same day ... um ... my sister showed up to see me. I was doing a routine records update and her information was listed as my next of kin."

"And this is the first time she's come to visit you since you arrived?" Bell was still frowning.

Bob wasn't prepared for this line of questioning. His instinct was to try to keep the subterfuge going.

"She moved while I was deployed, and they couldn't contact her when I got wounded. I guess when I stopped sending her letters she started trying to find me, and wasn't successful until last week."

"And how was your reunion?" asked the Colonel.

Bob's grin was honest. "It was fantastic," he said.

"Excellent," said Bell. "Let's talk a little bit about how she reacted to your injuries."

The session lasted another thirty minutes while Bob answered questions, primarily about how he felt about things. He thought it was odd to be asked how he felt about the artificial leg he was currently wearing, but he answered all the questions as honestly as he could.

When Julia came home from school on the Friday after she spent one glorious night with Bob, and saw the light on her answering machine blinking, she felt excitement, hoping Bob had finally called.

When she had purchased her answering machine, it came pre-loaded with an androgynous voice that said, simply, "Please leave a message after the tone." With various warnings in mind about phone security and outgoing messages that gave too much information to strangers, she just left things as they were. She hoped Bob, not hearing her voice or name on the machine, had trusted that he had the right number and left her a message. She punched the flashing red button and waited.

"Yes, Ms. Strangline, this is Colonel William Bell, of the Walter Reed Army Medical Center. I'm calling about your brother Robert. I'd like to discuss his case with you. If you could please give me a call at your convenience I would be most appreciative."

A phone number followed.

Julia stared at the phone. She had no idea what to do now. Obviously Bob given someone her phone number, and told him it was the number to his sister. She didn't know why he would do that, since he had said she should leave so that no one would be able to find out who she was.

She worried about it the rest of the evening. She worried about it in the morning and was so distracted that her children noticed it during class and asked her what was wrong. She hadn't told them she'd found Bob yet, because they hadn't agreed on a story to tell the kids. She was waiting for a letter to arrive, and was going to play it by ear based on what was in that letter.

"I'm just thinking about something," she said.

Then, during recess, while Mrs. Foster was keeping an eye on the running, screaming children, Julia found a quiet corner and used her cell phone to call the number.

It wasn't quite that easy, of course. The number was answered, but Colonel Bell was with a patient. The woman who answered wanted to take a name and number, so that Bell could call her back. Julia didn't want to leave either. It was bad enough that the Army had her home phone number. She certainly didn't want them to have her cell number too.

"I'm returning his call," she said. "I'll try again later, if you can give me some idea of when I might be able to reach him."

"If you'll give me your name and number I'll have him call you," insisted the woman.

"I can't receive phone calls except at certain times," said Julia. "I'll have to call him."

"Well, you can try around three. He usually answers messages and calls people back between three and four. But I'm not promising you he won't already be on the phone."

Julia said she understood and hung up.

At three she had Lucinda Roberts, who could read at a fifth or sixth grade level already, read the rest of the class a story while she stepped into the hallway and called Bell again. The same woman answered and, with what sounded like vindication, said Bell was on the phone. Julia said she'd hold.

Five or six minutes later a man's voice came on the line. "Colonel Bell," he said curtly.

"Yes," said Julia, her heart suddenly in her throat. "You called my home number and left a message that you wanted to talk to me about Robert ... my ... um brother."

"What is his full name?" asked Bell.

"Robert Calhoun Hickory," said Julia.

"His DOB?"

"DOB?" asked Julia.

"Date of birth," said the man.

"Oh." She thought. He'd told her what his birth date was. "August twenty-fifth," she said.

"And the year of birth?"

She felt panic eating at her stomach. "I can never remember," she said, her voice tight. "I have to figure it out each time. Wait a second." She knew he was twenty-four, but she didn't just want to subtract two from her own birth year until she thought about it. Taking her own birthday into account, she came up with what she hoped was right. She said the number out loud.

"All right," said the man. "I have his file here, but I needed to make sure I was talking to the right person. I understand you got to visit your brother recently."

"Yes," said Julia, her voice only slightly strained.

"How did you feel about that visit, Ms. Strangline?"

"I was very happy about it," said Julia, her mind rebelling at being called by the wrong name.

"And his condition ... his wounds ... were you able to cope with that information?"

"That didn't bother me at all," she said, truthfully. "I was just so happy he was alive."

"Good, good. Ms. Strangline, I want to say that your brother is actually in very good health, physically. It's his mental and emotional condition I'm more concerned with."

"He's all right, isn't he?" she asked, fear in her voice.

"Traumatic Brain Injury, what we call TBI, is a relatively new phenomenon, in terms of diagnosis and treatment," said the man. "So it's somewhat touch and go. We're trying to gather data and assess these patients, but the level of information is still somewhat lower than we wish it was."

"You wish you had more patients with TBI?" asked Julia, incredulous.

"No! Of course not," said the man, sounding uncomfortable. "We just wish we understood things better."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, wondering why this man was telling her these things.

"Well, I realize this is somewhat abrupt, and I wish I'd known you were coming to see him so I could have arranged to talk to you personally ... but I think it might be good for him to get away from Walter Reed for a while ... get out into the world, you know? And as you are his only living relative ... I mean I wouldn't feel comfortable just turning him loose with no one to keep an eye on him ... but if you were inclined ... and able of course, to ... let's say host him for a while?"

"You want to send Bob to stay with me?" asked Julia, barely able to squeeze the words out.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but he has given so much for those who stay at home. And it could be for a certified time. I could require that he come back if there were any problems, and on a given date in any case. You wouldn't just be stuck with him, ma'am. I really think it would be good for him, mentally."

"Yes!" blurted Julia.

"Excellent. I'm very happy you're agreeable to this trial visit."

"He can stay as long as he needs to," she said, breathlessly.

"Let's try a few months to start with," said the man. "Then I'll have him come back here and we'll assess how things are going. If it's working we can extend it until he's ready to return to duty."

"You're sending him back over there?" Julia was scandalized. "He lost a damn leg over there!"

"I misspoke. His case is being reviewed by a medical board. They'll decide whether or not he can still serve, and in what capacity. His own wishes are part of that process. If he wants to get out of the Army, it's possible that could happen. If he wants to stay in, that's possible as well. That has yet to be decided. But my input to the board is a requirement before they can make a final determination."

"I see," she said. "Send him here. When can I expect him? Do I need to do anything?"

"Just verify your address for me," said Bell.

Julia rattled it off without even thinking. Her heart seized as she realized she might have just said the wrong thing.

"That matches what we have on file," said Bell. "To be quite honest, I haven't approached Sgt Hickory about this. I didn't want to raise any hopes if your circumstances prevented this from taking place. I'll have him call you when something is arranged. Would that be agreeable?"

"Oh yes," said Julia weakly, who then sat down on the floor outside her classroom, before her knees gave way and she fell.

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Any Soldier

Lubrican

57,919 Words.

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