Chapter 18

Ben met my flight at Tampa Airport. I really was happy to see him.

Really...

I mean it. I was very glad to see a friendly face after over two years in hell. My special gift for killing Viet Cong made me far too valuable for the Army to let me rotate back to the states for leave. I got leave, but it was over there – in hell. The CIA saw to that. In the end, though, I was only important to them until I wasn’t.

It was just that I expected to see Tara and Cary with Tina in tow, instead of my friend and business partner. I’d been away from the world for a long time. It was not out of the realm of possibility that my family would make the trek from Winter Haven to Tampa to meet me.

My disappointment was overshadowed by the truth. Edwina was already gone. She ran off with a boy capable of giving her something I couldn’t. Tara had to tell me, because Edwina wouldn’t, or couldn’t bring herself to break the news to me. There was no reason for Tara or Cary to want to be associated with a damaged ex-soldier, needing a wheelchair for the foreseeable future.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world to have to live alone. My logical side kicked in, and I thought about things at home that would need to be changed to deal with my damaged spine. The house would have to be radically remodeled to handle my wheelchair, and I could forget about having a second floor for the next year or so, while things healed and I learned to use my legs again. The sole comfort in thinking about my mangled body was the knowledge that I killed every one of those slant-eyed maggots that had a hand in shooting me, before my rescuers arrived ready to rock and roll. All my guys had left to do was count the bodies and medevac me out.

Ben smiled as he rushed up to help me wheel the chair through the crowds. We were almost to the curb when some protesters started shouting about baby killing soldiers. When one spit on us, Ben lost his cool and dropped the offended moron in his tracks with a short, stiff, right fist to the solar plexus. The airport police grabbed the offender and dragged him off to jail.

Ben pushed my chair to a customized station wagon, which was parked in a no parking zone, and as we approached all four doors flew open and Tara, Cary, Eleanor, and Tina poured out to welcome me home. As my family enfolded me in their love, I spied Edwina hanging back, looking unsure if she should approach, or not. Seeing Edwina completed my desire to see my family. Being wrapped in the arms of the people I loved the most finally broke the dam that had built up inside me and I cried. Even as Tara, Cary, Eleanor and Tina wrapped me in their arms, I reached for Edwina to show her that I still loved her.

My tears were unbidden, unwelcome, and unexpected. At no time had I let emotion overcome me while I served in the Army. Something about coming home broken and weak and seeing that my family loved me anyway was more than I could take. I cried and they cried. Pretty soon Ben joined in and we all cried.

Ben drove us home in the most unusual station wagon I had ever seen. The roof had been raised about eighteen inches and the interior was rearranged to make the passenger seat smaller giving the seat behind it a lot more room, which translated into maneuvering room for me to swing in and still be able to toss the wheelchair over into the rear. “Loring called all over hell and gone looking for a vehicle that would allow you to travel in comfort. Some folks that own a Chevy dealership over in Alabama had a customer who ordered this wagon customized for their dad, who was wheelchair bound. He died before they picked it up, and the dealer was thrilled to sell it to me and give them their money back.

“So, you’ve got a great set of wheels to get you back in the saddle after you’ve had some time to relax and decompress.” He didn’t push me for a date certain, but left it open do I could figure out how I felt and how I wanted to reenter my business life.

I was sitting in the backseat, next to the passenger door because that was the easiest place for me to enter and exit the car. My right side was stronger than my left. I could leverage myself out of any vehicle as long as I was sitting where I could grab something sturdy with my right hand. Tara was on my left with Tina beside her. Eleanor was up front with Ben and Edwina sat beside Eleanor in front of me. My duffle bag was tossed into the back. We were all together for the first time since I shipped out. It was too bad that I came back so damaged.

The trip home was a breath of fresh air. It was great – magnificent really – to be away from the Army and their never-ending demands, expectations and orders. After my shooting, I withdrew into a shell and shut them all out, refusing to speak, respond, or acknowledge anyone for any reason. At some point the military psychologist figured out that I simply wanted to be left alone and signed my release orders, allowing me to escape the military hospital once and for all.

Coming home made most of the demons that tortured me disappear. I still heard the screams of the dying and saw the lifeless bodies of young children raped to death by maniacal Viet Cong. My hands still shook from the rage that consumed me when confronted with the sheer evil of the communists and communism. It was my hope and prayer that the dreams might end, or at least let up once I was home.