Sea of Dreams (The American Heroes Series Book 2) (28 page)

“What are all of those bars you’re pinning to yourself?” she asked.

He finished with the second medal. “They’re rank insignia, various service awards, things like that,” he said, turning around and pointing to the different bars on chest. “This one is the Presidential Service Citation, this one is the Navy Unit Commendation, and this one is the Meritorious Unit Commendation.”

She stood up from the bed and went to him to take a closer look.  She pointed to the two medals hanging below all of the colorful bars.

“What are those?”

He glanced down at them. “The Navy Cross.”

“What are they for?”

He stroked her arm affectionately as he walked around her to go get his shoes. “For extreme gallantry and risk of life in actual combat with an armed enemy force and going beyond the call of duty.” He disappeared into the closet and emerged a few seconds later. “That’s what it says in the Navy Manual, anyway. I got one in Afghanistan and the other in a very dicey situation that I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

She watched him sit on the bed to pull his brown Navy regulation shoes on.   As he was fussing with the laces of one of the shoes, she sat down next to him and watched.  Her expression was pensive.

“You’ve risked your life a lot,” she said softly.

“That’s my job.”

“Why can’t you tell me what you did to earn them?” she asked. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

He looked at her, cupped her face, and kissed her cheek. “Because I don’t want to freak you out,” he said frankly. “Does it matter?”

She half-shrugged. “Probably not, but I’d just like to know. I already think you walk on water. I just want to know how often you do it.”

He laughed softly and pulled on the other shoe. “Too often,” he said, putting his hand on her arm when she opened her mouth to press him. “Baby, it’s not that I’m withholding information or being deliberately evasive, but now that you’re with a military man, you should know that most of us don’t like to talk about these things. To talk about it is to relive it again and, trust me, I don’t want to relive the events that are represented by those medals.  I lost very good friends and did things that a movie writer couldn’t even imagine.  Some things are just better left unsaid.”

She nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not trying to pry.  I’m just proud of you and I want to know all about you, even the awful things.”

He looked at her, seeing that she really didn’t have a clue what he meant.  It wasn’t her fault; she just wasn’t used to being with a man who risked his life every time he put on the uniform. He sighed faintly, cupped her face, and kissed her cheek again.

“I’m going to tell you this just once so you understand where I’m coming from,” he said quietly, “and then I’d appreciate it very much if didn’t press me about things I don’t want to talk about.  If I want to tell you, I will, but if I don’t, just let it go. Deal?”

She nodded seriously. “Deal. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he said softly, pointing to the first of the two Navy Crosses.  “I was in Afghanistan in ’04 and my troop and I had just finished re-conning a Taliban outpost because we had good information that they were holding two U.N. workers hostage.  This outpost was high in the mountains and we scaled slopes like Spiderman to check it out. To make a long story short, we were ambushed.  My troop got split up in the firefight and about half of my men were caught in very bad crossfire in a canyon.  I managed to get the other half of my men to safety before returning  for the rest who were pinned down and receiving heavy fire.  Butch and I figured out that there were about twelve insurgents firing on my men so he and I systematically picked off one insurgent at a time until there were four left.  We captured those four.”

She was listening intently. “So you received the medal for that?”

He shook his head. “I received the medal when I went in to the canyon in spite of the gunfire, sheer cliffs and nasty conditions to carry out two men who were badly wounded.  I carried one guy twelve miles on my back to an LZ to be Med-evac’d.”

“What’s an ‘LZ’?”

“Landing zone.”

By the time he was finished, she was looking at him with great warmth and respect.  She kissed him gently on the jaw. “You’re so brave,” she whispered. “Thank you for telling me. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiled. “Thank you,” he replied, his smile fading. “But I also lost seven men in that little adventure, kids hardly older than Lizzie, kids that showed bravery and skill like experienced men in the face of great adversity.  Butch and I collected each and every one of those brave young men and carried their bodies to safety.  I’ll tell you something that I’ve never told anyone – it felt like my kid brothers were killed.  I know every one of those boys and their serial numbers. I’ve memorized them because I don’t ever want to forget how brave they were for their country and every day on the anniversary of their death, if I’m able, I lay a wreath on every one of their graves. I never let that day pass without some kind of remembrance.”

Her smile was gone and her eyes were moist. “That’s very noble,” she said softly.  “It just confirms what I already know. You’re a man of great character and honor.”

He stood up and took her hand, squeezing it. “That may be,” he said quietly, “but I will tell you that I’m just hanging on by a thread right now. Butch was closer to me than a brother.  I’m not sure how I’m going to get through this today.”

Blakesley’s first reaction was to cry for him, to hurt because he was hurting. But she realized that was the wrong thing to do.  He needed support and encouragement, not tears.  It wasn’t her right.  She put her arms around his neck and kissed his jaw again, leaving red lip prints that she gently wiped away.

“I’ll be there for you, whatever you need,” she said softly and confidently. “If you need your hand held, or a cup of coffee, or a hug, I’ll be there for you. I’ll always be there for you.”

He appreciated her support more than she would ever know. He hugged her gently and, taking his khaki head cover, led her back to the truck parked beneath the gently blowing trees. He held her hand the entire time, not saying a word.  He didn’t have to.  He knew they were coming to understand each other very, very well, reaching a place where words were no longer necessary.  He never had that with anyone in his life, not ever. 

Pulling his new truck out into the street, he felt extremely fortunate as they headed for Gina Aguirre’s house.

Chapter Fourteen

Their arrival at Gina’s house had been an odd and sickening experience. 

Gina’s entire family was down from Los Angeles, a big Mexican-American family with a mother, father, sister, brothers, brother’s wives, aunts and various children running around.  The house was absolutely packed with people and everyone but Gina’s father was weeping steadily.  It sounded horrible and Beck and Blakesley paused at the front door, hearing all of the noise and looking at each other with trepidation.  Beck fought his down while Blakesley swallowed hard, took his hand, and followed him inside.

Gina, oddly, wasn’t crying. She was sitting on the couch with her son in her arms, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, as the women sitting around her howled and wept. She seemed to be in some kind of trance, perhaps remembering days gone by or thinking on her future without Butch.  Whatever the case, she noticed Beck immediately when he came in the house.  Like no one else in the world existed, she got up from the couch and walked straight to him.

“Beck,” she sounded exhausted. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Beck smiled at her, putting his hand on Spike’s head when the boy looked up at him. “I told you I’d be here at noon,” he said, softly but firmly. “Are you ready to go?”

Gina nodded, noticing Blakesley for the first time. She smiled wanly. “Hi, Bee,” she said softly. “I’m glad you came with him. I hoped you would.”

She looked absolutely strung out and exhausted, and Blakesley swallowed the lump in her throat. Her heart ached for the woman.

“You knew I’d come,” she put her hand on Gina’s arm comfortingly. 

Gina’s smile was grateful. “Thank you.”

Blakesley noticed that Gina was still in her pajamas, all wrinkled and stained. Looking at the weeping women strung throughout the house, she suddenly felt angry that these people weren’t taking care of Gina.  Instead, they were apparently competing to see who could cry the loudest.  She put both hands on Gina’s shoulders.

“Let’s go get dressed, okay?” she said, turning her back towards the bedrooms. “I’ll help you.  Beck, can you watch Spike while Gina gets dressed? We won’t be long.”

Beck reached out and scooped the boy out of his mother’s arms. “Come on, buddy,” he said softly. “Let’s go in the kitchen and get something to eat.”

As Blakesley directed Gina to her bedroom, she watched Beck over her shoulder.  He had been cornered by a couple of crying women near the kitchen door and she could hear him speaking to them in low, calm tones.  But Blakesley lost sight of him as she and Gina entered the dark hallway and filed back into the rear master bedroom.

Gina walked into the room and just stood there.  She really couldn’t even move. Blakesley could see that the woman was having difficulty functioning so she took charge, going into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she said softly, taking hold of Gina’s shoulders and pushing her into the bathroom. “Let’s get showered so we can go.”

Gina fumbled with her pajamas like she was trying to remove them but she wasn’t doing a very good job.  Blakesley ended up pulling her pajamas off and clipping her hair on top of her head so she could keep it dry in the shower.  Gina was able to get in on her own and make half-hearted attempt at soaping down, but it was really all mechanical in motion.  Her mind was elsewhere and her movements were weary. But it was enough to get her reasonably clean and Blakesley turned off the shower, pulled the woman out, and dried her off.

Blakesley then directed her over to the bed, where she sat heavily.  Blakesley went into the closet and began digging around.

“Let’s find something nice,” she said, pulling out a pretty black and white dress. “Oh, I love this. You can wear this.”

Gina just sat on the bed, looking forlorn and beaten, as Blakesley got her dressed.  The woman moved so slowly that Blakesley had to help her with everything; bra, underwear, jewelry.  Blakesley turned the flat iron on and quickly ran it through Gina’s hair as the woman fiddled with her wedding rings.  Then she found Gina’s makeup stash and put some color on her face.  Gina just stood there and did as she was told; lift her head, stand up, sit down, look up, and pucker up her lips.  Blakesley bossed her around and Gina let her. When all was said and done, Blakesley had pretty much transformed the woman into something sleek and lovely.  Gina just stared at herself in the mirror.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do,” she whispered, staring at herself.  “I’m a widow. Butch is gone. I’m only twenty nine years old. What am I going to do without him?”

Blakesley looked at her in the mirror, feeling saddened. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I honestly don’t know.  But Beck and I will help you however we can, I promise.”

Gina continued staring at herself. “Beck,” she murmured. “He loved Butch and Butch loved him.  Poor Beck.”

Blakesley didn’t know what else to say. Quietly, she took Gina by the hand and led her out into the living room where her family was gathered around, still crying, still carrying on.  Blakesley found Beck in the kitchen with Spike, feeding the boy a peanut butter sandwich.  He looked up from the child, smiling when he saw her standing in the doorway.

“Is she ready?” he asked.

Blakesley nodded. “She’s dressed but I don’t know if she’s ready.”

His smile faded as he thought on that statement.  He picked up a napkin and wiped his hands of any remaining peanut butter. “I heard her call you Bee,” he said. “Where did she get that?”

Blakesley smirked and went to the table where Spike was stuffing his face with peanut butter. “Spikey,” she smiled at the boy. “Who am I?”

The little kid grinned broadly, bread hanging out of his mouth. “Bee!”

Both Blakesley and Beck laughed.  “See?” she looked at Beck. “He can’t say my name. It kind of stuck.”

Beck put his hand on the kid’s dark head. “I like it,” he said, stroking the boy’s hair and thinking how much he looked like Butch. But that was too painful so he focused on Blakesley instead.  “Ready to go?”

Her smile faded. “Let’s get this over with.”

Beck lifted Spike up from the table, setting him on the floor and taking the little boy’s hand as they made their way back into the living room.  He turned the child over to his grandmother as he collected Blakesley and Gina.  Some of Gina’s family wanted to go but Gina waved them off.  She wanted to do this alone even though her mother strongly argued with her.  Still, Gina remained resolute, insisting that they needed to stay with Spike.  Beck pulled her out of the house while Blakesley practically slammed the door in the face of her family.

***

The whole experience at the base was surreal. That’s the only way Blakesley could describe it.

On their way to the base, Beck got on the phone to someone to let them know he was bringing Gina to claim Butch’s body.  Although Beck tried to speak softly, Gina heard what he was saying and the soft tears came. The closer they got to base, the more she cried.  By the time they reached the first set of guard gates leading onto the NAB, Gina was working herself into a state no matter how hard Blakesley tried to keep her calm.

They arrived on base at the northwest end of Coronado Island, a massive expanse of base that seemed to go on and on. There were buildings and warehouses and jets and all sorts of military paraphernalia. Beck went through three guard posts to admit them to the area of the base where the teams were housed. 

Winding his way through the base, he ended up in front of enormous building that looked like an airplane hangar.  It was big and metallic looking, with double doors to admit entry.  It looked like a vault. Blakesley peered at the tall and somewhat foreboding building, holding Gina’s hands as the woman softly sobbed.