Authors: Denise Kahn
“How does it look?”
“Looks good.”
“That’s it?”
“Are you asking if you are going to have a scar?” She asked.
Max meant
can you work on me some more? And any part of my anatomy would be fine.
“Uh, yeah.”
“If you do you’ll barely see it. I think I did a pretty good job. I’ve done a few of these before.”
Max touched the gauze on his head. “It’s a work of art, like Spanish lace.”
Sam laughed.
“Por su puesto.
But of course.”
“Sam, I have to leave and I don’t know when I’ll be able to get back here.”
“That’s alright.”
“What do you mean?” Max asked, not understanding.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Max thought he had been hit by a baseball bat. “But why? Do you think I want you for just your body?”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t, so please explain.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near me!”
“But why? Did I hurt you when we made love?”
“No, I want you out my life, and that’s final! And we didn’t make love, we had sex.”
“That’s bullshit, Sam! I’ve never made love in my life.” Sam looked at him. “That’s right, today was my first time.”
What was this man saying? Sam had never been so excited with any other man. Max was an artist in bed. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve had my share of sex, and I won’t deny that I enjoyed it, but I never made love to a woman before.” He took her hands. “You did that, Sam, you showed me the perfection between a man and a woman and that could only happen if you love the other person.”
“Oh, please Max, just stay away from me, stay out of my life.”
Max was getting angry and frustrated. “Sam, what are you saying?”
“Go away! And don’t come back.”
Max had never been so upset in his life. It was also the first time a woman rejected him. He wanted to punch a few holes in the wall with his bare hands but he restrained himself with all the control he possessed. He took a couple of seconds to think and calm down. “I will abide by your wishes under one condition.”
“And what, pray tell, would that be?” She answered harshly.
“I just want the truth. I want to know why you don’t want me.”
“Because I kill people.”
Max stared at her, expecting just about anything, but certainly not that answer. “Are you telling me you’re a serial killer?”
“No, Max, but everyone I ever cared about died.”
Max smiled. “Does that mean you care about me?”
Sam had tears in her eyes. “Yes, you son-of-a-bitch, I do.”
“And what makes you think you are the one killing off these people?”
“I’m a jinx.”
“And did this start when you came to the Middle East? Do you think you are an
al-Jinni?
”
“Damn it, Max, I’m serious, everyone dies—my parents, Robert, you almost got killed today…”
“Sam, please! I got a little cut on my scalp. Do you really think you were the cause of that? Didn’t you say that those mortars creep in every once in a while?”
“Max, I’m serious, get out.”
“I will, Sam, but only because I have to go. I’ll be back.”
“Please don’t.”
♫
IRAQ
CHAPTER 33
Max was leading his team down the small, main street of the town. He didn’t like it. The streets were too narrow and the men were too close together. The town was supposed to be deserted, but none of the Marines believed it. Maybe it was a sixth sense, or maybe a smell. What they knew for sure was that someone was watching them. Max saw a dead dog in the middle of the street just ahead of them. Another victim for the annals. War was anathema to animals, and to zoophiles as well. He almost missed him, as he was the same color as the sand he lay on. And then, just inside the canine’s mouth, a thin wire. Colin, who was next to him, saw it at the same time they heard a click. They knew they would be dead in a split-second so the two buddies jumped toward the explosive at the same time, their only thought for the brothers they swore to protect. Max a few inches farther ahead as he was quicker and lighter, Colin just behind him. As they soared together toward certain death they saw their young lives flash through their minds in a nanosecond—their families, their lovers, their Marine brothers, the good times, and in Max’s case he even caught a glimpse of Colin’s rendition of
Amazing Grace
at Parris Island.
The explosion lasted an instant and it propelled Max and Colin toward the sky. Blood, dirt, debris, M16’s and pieces of camouflage fatigues flew out and up from their bodies and from the ground below them. They landed hard a few feet away, broken marionettes in a cloud of brown and red dust. And then there was silence. For these two brothers of different color, of different faith, of different upbringing, of one same heart, there was only darkness.
The ten Marines that Max and Colin had just saved shouted as they ran toward the limp figures, their yelling a reflection of their feelings.
“MEDIC! GET A MEDIC!” Honey screamed.
“They dead, they’re fucking dead!” Stapleton howled.
“They saved our lives, oh, man they saved our fucking lives.”
“Goddamned fucking heroes.”
“Music Man, you can’t stop playing music, man!” Stapleton whined.
The men reached the bodies.
Debris still smoldered on Colin’s motionless, bloody torso. One of the men quickly brushed it off.
Honey put his fingers to Max’s blood covered neck and face, dreading having to tell his Marine brothers that there was no pulse. Between the blood, dirt and shirt he wasn’t sure he was in the right spot. He wiped some of the grime away and tried again. And there it was, barely, but he found it. “I’ve got rhythm! I’ve got Music Man’s rhythm!” He blurted out in delight.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Another of the men asked.
“His pulse, Music Man’s got a pulse!”
“Haferty is alive as well!” Stapleton yelled.
“How the fuck is that possible?”
The medic arrived on the scene and answered: “Maybe because both of them went in together.”
“What does that mean?
“Look at their wounds. As they jumped they collided. This guy,” he said, pointing to Max, got the explosion in his upper leg, the big one, in the shoulder. If it had been just one man it would have been a full impact, but because these two went in together it probably bounced them out of the full blast just enough. It might just have saved their lives. Maybe they’ll survive. Now one of you help me.” All ten of the men were on their knees in an instant. “Just one of you will be fine,” he repeated, appreciating the brotherly affection and unity of this group. The medic bandaged Max’s leg, encased it in a splint and attached a white paper to his flak jacket:
Blast to left leg
. He did the same to Colin’s right shoulder.
“There is a God, and today He didn’t want any part of these two beauties,” the Gunnery Sergeant said, “but we sure as hell do, so let’s get them to the CSH NOW! Move! Move!”
“Yes, Sir, Gunnery Sergeant, yes, Sir!”
♫
COMBAT SUPPORT HOSPITAL
CHAPTER 34
The hospital had been exceedingly busy. There were more casualties in the prior three months than since the beginning of the war, and it wasn’t letting up. The pace never slowed. The medical teams were always working, trying to save as many combatants as they could. And their percentage was amazing. They managed to save over ninety percent of the casualties coming through their doors. The wounded also owed their lives to the Air ambulance helicopters who would bring them in, sometimes just fifteen minutes after they were injured. Some remained only a few hours and would return back to their unit. Others, more severely wounded, stayed no longer than forty-eight hours. Once stable they were flown to the military hospital in Landstuhl, in Germany.
Sam and Chantal were on call. They waited for the casualties to arrive. As soon as they heard the chop, chop, chop of the helicopter blades they rushed out with the dollies. Airmen lifted Max and Colin out and handed them over to the nurses. Sam and Chantal moved them quickly so that the steel bird could fly back out and get more casualties. They too were in and out of the CSH continuously.
The two women did not expect the casualties to be the men they loved, and as professional as they were they gasped when they saw who they were, and lost their breath when they saw their injuries.
“Max!” Sam cried.
“Sam…” he stammered.
“Damn you, Max del Valle, didn’t I tell you that I’m no good, that every person around me that I love dies! I told you, I told you to stay away from me!”
“Not… dead… I’m alive… I live for you…” Max whispered as best he could through the blood streaming out of his mouth.
“Oh, Max,” Sam said pushing him toward the operating room, “prove me wrong, Marine, prove me wrong, you son-of-a-bitch! Don’t you fucking die on me!”
“Yes, Ma’am… whatever you say… And Sam…”
“Yes, Max.”
“I want that… piece… of shrapnel.”
“You’ll be getting a Purple Heart, you know.”
“…Shrapnel.”
“Alright, I’ll let them know.” Sam was always amazed that the men wanted that souvenir more than their medal.
Max vomited more blood. His eyes were filming over and glassy, but there was a still a little spark in the gray irises. “Sam…”
“Yes, Max?” Sam answered. She was holding his hand as tightly as she dared, as if his life depended on her touch and warmth.
“I… love… you…” Max said, as his lung completely collapsed. He blacked out. More blood flowed from his mouth and covered his already crimson covered torso. They wheeled him into the OR.
“Sam, we’ll take it from here. You wait outside,” the doctor in charge said, stopping her from entering.
“No, I want to be in there with him. I have to help.”
“No, Sam, not on this one.” The doctor knew that Sam and Max were close. He had seen them together.
“But Doctor, you know I’m the best…”
“That’s an order.”
Sam watched the team in the operation room through the little window on the door. They were some of the best in the world and Max was in their hands. If anyone could save him it was this team. She looked one more time and pictured Max’s handsome face. “I love you too, Marine, I love you Max.”
Sam stood with her hands on her hips in the hallway. She watched as they wheeled Colin into the OR next to Max’s. She had to smile as she thought about how wonderful the relationship between these two men was. They were even being operated on at the same time.
Sam was asleep in a chair in the hallway outside the ORs when Chantal walked up to her. “Sam?” No answer. She shook her. “Sam, wake up.”
“What? What happened, how’s Max? How’s Col?”
“They’re both out of surgery. Some of Col’s shoulder was blown away, but thankfully no vital organs were harmed. They spent hours reconnecting what they could, but he’ll need a few more specialized operations, rebuilding and grafting. At some point and with physical therapy he might regain full function.”
“Wow, that’s great news.”
“Yeah, and Max is holding his own, although shrapnel punctured his lung. It was touch and go for a while.”
“What about his leg?” Sam asked, fearing the worst.
“His leg took the majority of the impact, like Col’s shoulder. They did a great job. They got to him just in time, and they didn’t amputate. But like Col, more operations and physical therapy for quite some time.”
“Oh, thank God! For both of them.”
“I’ll say. Come on, let’s get some food and some sleep. It’s been a long day. Besides, the boys will be unconscious for hours.”
“Okay, let’s go. Remind me to get the team the best bottle of whatever their favorite booze is.”
“Thought of that myself and have a great Cognac ready to go.”
“The ol’ Aunt Clo special.”
The girls smiled for the first time in many hours.
♫
CHAPTER 35
Max and Colin were stable enough to be MEDEVACed to Landstuhl. Sam and Chantal helped the crew of the Air Force’s Hercules C130 air ambulance medical evacuation flight equipped with the best care team and equipment. The converted cargo plane had state of the art medical equipment, and the people who manned it were incredible technicians, medics and air crew. Every time they took a flight they were risking their lives, as surface to air missiles would target them at every opportunity, but the pilots were also some of the Air Force’s most prolific and creative, and knew how to elude the missiles.
Max and Colin were placed on hanging stretcher beds in the large flying hospital. Different machines and special hooks for I.V. bags were ready and hanging from their niches above or around them. Sam and Chantal leaned over the men they loved and kissed them goodbye. As they left the plane, Tyrone, who had just flowed in, ran up to his sister and Sam.
“Hey, Ty,” Chantal said.
“Hi Chantal, hi Sam.”
“Hi Tyrone.”
“Are you staying for a while?”
“No, I just flew in some wounded and heard about the boys here. I just came to see how they were. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay, we’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”
The women were on a break and went to get something to eat. Tyrone went up to the men he respected and said hello.
“Hey Col, hi Max.”
“Hey fly boy,” Colin said, “what are you up to?”
“Just bringing more of you guys in, saving your asses.”
“Good job, Devereaux, keep it up,” Max said.
“Yeah, that’s the idea. Now you guys relax, you’re in good hands.”
“You mean the Air Force?”
“Absolutely. You Jarheads need us.”
“Just joking, man. You guys are pretty amazing at what you do.”
“For God’s sake, Haf, don’t let it go to his head.”
“Alright, got to go. See you Stateside.”
The big propellers on the Hercules were revving up, getting ready to take off. As Tyrone jumped off the rear ramp onto the tarmac he overheard one the Airmen cursing.
“What’s wrong?” His partner said.
“They didn’t make it. We just lost them.”
The cold sweat rushed down Tyrone’s back.
“Both of them?”
“Yeah, the IED guys.”
“Goddamn it!”
“Hey!” Tyrone yelled from the end of the plane’s ramp, “are you talking about the leg and shoulder wounds? The big black guy and the one next to him?”
The Airman nodded and pushed up his hands as in ‘there wasn’t anything we could do’.
Tyrone still couldn’t believe it. What had happened? “I’m talking about Haferty and del Valle, right?” He asked again, wanting to make sure.
The Airman nodded as he finished closing the zipper on the black body bag. The other man was doing the same for the other one.
Tears formed in Tyrone’s eyes, for the men no longer in this world, for the waste of such young and beautiful people and for the women they had loved and were now leaving behind. How was he ever going to tell them? The guys had looked stable enough, he kept thinking. They actually looked pretty good. What the fuck had happened?
If Tyrone had been a little closer he would have noticed that neither one of the bodies could have been Colin’s large frame.
Tyrone walked into the cafeteria with the same look he had had when his parents were killed during hurricane Katrina. He spied the girls at one of the corner tables.
“Hey Ty, have a seat,” Sam said.”
“Plane just took off,” Chantal said as she heard the rumbling of the Hercules’ engines.
“Yes. Yes it did.”
“With our boys.”
“Sit down, Tyrone,” Sam repeated.
“Uh, no, I have to leave. Could I speak to you both outside for a minute, it’s important.”
“Can’t you tell us here, little brother?”
“Uh, no. It needs to be more private.”
“Are you alright?” Sam asked.
Tyrone didn’t answer. He just turned and walked out. The two women looked at each other, puzzled, and followed.
Tyrone had no idea how he was going to tell them. He kept repeating the same phrase to himself: “I’m sorry, Chantal,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Sam, I’m so sorry.”
The two women went to their respective rooms. They sat on their beds, numb and devastated. They didn’t move. After twenty minutes of sitting immobile Chantal looked around the room and found what she was looking for. She picked up the bottle of Cognac and a glass and went to Sam’s room. She walked in without even knocking.
“Hey Sam, thought we could use some of this, what do you say?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
Chantal went to the bathroom, emptied the glass of the toothbrush, quickly washed it and brought it to Sam.
“Make it deep,” Sam said.
“You got it, sister.”
Chantal poured them each an almost full glass of the Cognac.
“To the men we loved. Thank you for having loved us.”
“To Colin Haferty, my BBB.”
“What’s BBB?” Sam asked.
“Big, black and beautiful.”
Even in her misery Sam had to chuckle. And she thought of the man she had lost as well. “And to Max del Valle, movie star handsome, incredible musician and beautiful heart. We’ll always love you, boys.”
The women raised their glasses and drank half of the dark amber liquid.
“You know, in New Orleans we’re all a little psychic, we all believe in destiny and love.”
“What’s your point?”
“I thought Col was it. I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. Love and destiny, you know.”
“And you probably would have, if they hadn’t been such damned heroes.”
“Yeah, maybe, and that’s probably also why we loved them. Just the way they were.”
“You know we have a ninety percent survival rate here.”
“Yeah, why did they have to be part of the ten percent?”
The women were on their way to getting very, very drunk.
“You know it’s my fault,” Sam said, slurring her words.
They had slipped off the bed and were now on the floor against the mattress.
“What is?”
“They died because of me. First my parents, then Robert, now Col and Max, all my fault.”
“I told you before, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Think about it, every single person I’ve ever loved…” Sam broke down and cried.
“Sam, stop it. That’s ridiculous.”
“Chantal, you have to get away from me. I’m going to kill you too. I can’t lose anybody else, especially you.”
“Now that’s totally enough! Who do you think you are? God?”
“What do you mean?”
“Only God Almighty has that kind of power.”
“Then I must be Satan.”
“No, just completely drunk.” She looked over at Sam who was sinking down to the floor. Chantal followed suit and passed out as well.
♫