Twisted Truths & Leveled Lies

by Lessner, S. K.

  Wiping my face, I followed Brett as he led me to the couch. Sitting side by side, I positioned Josie in my lap and looked into his sleepy eyes. He must have felt all the movement, or heard us talking, because he was already waking up without my help.

  He yawned, then reached his chubby little arm behind his back.

  “Ma, ma, bak urt…ouwww.” His eyebrows were drawn down and his little lips puckered.

  I hadn’t given him any pain medicine since earlier this morning and was sure the long, bumpy ride, followed by our continual movements and jostling around at the embassy, were making him sore.

  “Yes, baby, I know.” I kissed his forehead.

  I had to fight to stay calm. I felt every tremor in my body and every sob that was getting stopped in my throat, but refused to give in to them. Josie needed calm. Feeling Brett’s hand lightly rub my back reassuringly gave me the courage to continue.

  “Do you see those big marshmallow men over there?” I pointed to the men on the other side of the room and smiled at Josie.

  His eyes got big, and he looked back at me inquisitively.

  “They’re going to play a game with you. You’re the cookie monster and you get to eat all the marshmallows you want. All you have to do is lie on the bed and go for a ride down the hall.”

  Josie glanced from the men to me. I wasn’t sure if this was a good comparison, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

  “The best part is that they’re going to help your back too. Soon, you’ll be all better and we’ll go home and see Aunt Joan and her new baby.”

  Josie’s eyes lit with excitement as he nodded his head eagerly.

  I turned toward Brett, silently asking him if I needed to do anything else. He was so close to me, but what surprised me was the look of admiration on his face.

  “You. Are. Amazing,” he said, emphasizing each word.

  Smiling, he held his hands toward Josie. Again, he was trying to help me. He knew it would be easier to hand Josie to him rather than the suits.

  Josie happily went to him; the two had become quite good friends. Brett pulled him close and stood, then held his hand out to help me up.

  Grabbing my bag and purse, we walked to the hospital bed that was waiting. Josie’s eyes were so big, taking in the white suits everywhere. But he looked curious, playful. I was relieved. I couldn’t handle it if he were crying.

  Brett gently placed him on the bed, then shockingly, climbed on with him. He positioned Josie between his legs, leaning back against the pillow. The suit standing beside the bed gave him a dirty look through his mask, but Brett stared back, making it clear he wasn’t moving.

  After raising the railings on the bed himself, Brett reached over and grabbed my hand, placing my hand on top of Josie’s and his underneath. It made a big hand sandwich.

  “Okay marshmallows, let’s go make some s’mores!” Brett called out to the men around us, deepening his accent so he sounded even more country.

  They shook their heads, but the look on their faces was relief. They must have been worried about how this would all play out, as well.

  As they rolled the bed toward the medical complex, using an underground tunnel, Brett pointed out everything we passed for Josie. He kept his mind busy and a smile on his face. He also took the opportunity to make fun of the Army officers we passed by and I got the impression it was more than the game he was playing with Josie, it was his fun way of saying Marines were superior. I laughed a few times at his antics.

  Josie was so excited while pointing things out and trying to say words back, that I had to move my hand to the metal bed railing. I didn’t mind though. The smile on his face during this difficult time was more than worth it.

  Once we reached the complex and moved through a set of swinging doors, the suits stopped and asked Brett to get off. The one who had given him a dirty look earlier was much nicer this time. He must have realized how much work Brett saved them by keeping Josie occupied.

  Brett gave Josie a hug and told him to go play with the marshmallow men, his mommy would be in soon to join the game. Josie was completely caught up in the scheme, so I didn’t want to ruin it with a long goodbye. I hugged him quickly and told him I’d be in there really fast, I just had to go potty first. He knew that word, so he shook his head and said ok.

  I watched the four suits take my son through another set of double doors and disappear. I fell to the ground. Well, I would’ve if Brett hadn’t caught me. I turned my body into his as hard as I could and held on, sobbing into his chest.

  “It’s gonna be okay now,” he whispered, rubbing small circles across my back. “He’s gonna be alright, Mel.”

  He cupped his hands behind my head, always keeping his touch appropriate. I doubt I’d notice it if they were somewhere else, but deep inside I appreciated his gestures.

  “Sir, Miss, could you please follow us?” Two Army personnel stood in the doorway we had walked through minutes ago, holding it open for us to go with them.

  Knowing I had to finish this so I could return to my son, I turned and followed them, Brett never releasing my shoulders. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I kept my head leaned into him, silently encouraging myself as we walked.

  Josie was going to make it.

  They’d get that thing out of him and make him new.

  Everything would be okay.

  I repeated it over and over again in my mind. By the time we reached a doorway to a small office area I was doing better. I was, until one of the Army officers told Brett he had to go with him, and I’d have to go with the other.

  “No!” I screamed.

  I heard myself, but couldn’t stop. I kept screaming.

  “No! You can’t take him too! No!”

  The thought that he was only a stranger a day ago, the idea that I hardly knew him, never entered my mind. All I could think was that Brett promised me he’d stay with me no matter what, he’d make sure Josie was okay, he’d be there through everything, and now they were taking him from me. He was the last piece that held me together.

  My body started going into convulsions and I crumpled to the ground.

  “No, please. Brett, no, don’t let them. No!”

  “She’s havin’ a panic attack! Call a damn medic down here now!”

  I heard Brett yell at one of the men, but I couldn’t process what he was saying. My body was on the floor in a ball, my mind falling apart in front of him.

  I sensed Brett crawl down beside me, lifting me up into his arms. He sat with me in his lap and pulled my head against his shoulder, rocking me gently back and forth, and whispering comforting things in my ear.

  “Mel, take a deep breath.” He brushed my hair out of the ponytail and smoothed it down my back. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

  He kept rubbing my back and smoothing my hair. The side of his warm cheek was resting against mine as he continued whispering encouraging words to me.

  Slowly, his words and caring gestures started to help. I began taking long, deep, stuttering breaths and was able to focus a little better.

  I looked up at Brett. Yes, I hardly knew him, but he was the only thing keeping me sane.

  “Please Brett,” I whispered, “Please don’t leave me. Not now.”

  Brett leaned his head back, connecting his eyes with mine. “I’m not leavin’, Mel. I promise you. This is just the way they interrogate people.” His eyes were wet. No tears, but I could see him fighting them.

  His words suddenly registered. Interrogate? Were we in trouble, now?

  He must have realized what I was thinking, or saw the fear in my eyes.

  “No, no, that’s only a word they use. They’ll ask us both for our stories, record it, have us sign some papers, and that’s all. Everything’s okay. I’ll be back with you as soon as we’re done.”

  I nodded my head, trying to believe everything he was saying.

  Before I could answer him, the door down the hall opened, and a small cart came rushing toward us. It was guided b
y a female Army nurse, her asymmetrical hairstyle barely moving as she hurried to us.

  Coming to a stop beside us, she had a cold expression on her face, making it clear she didn’t want to be there. Did she think I did?

  After gauging my appearance, she leaned over, offering me a bottled water.

  “Drink some water, you look like you’re okay now.”

  She turned her attention to Brett and asked, “Is her breathing normal now?”

  “Yeah, she’s doin’ good now. Just give her a minute please.”

  The nurse agreed and stepped away, but waited to make sure I was truly okay before she left.

  I took a drink and leaned my head onto Brett’s shoulder. My arms were in my lap, my fingers nervously playing with the wrapper on the water bottle. Without moving my head, I lifted my eyes up to Brett’s.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I swear I’m not some crazy, psycho lady. I’m really quite nice.” I didn’t know how to say what I was thinking. I could only imagine what he thought of the woman he was holding, who kept losing control.

  “Shhh, don’t say that. I’ve been there. I know what happened, and nobody can blame ya for it.” He pulled me in for another hug and rubbed my back. “Did ya understand what I told ya?”

  “Yes, I’m just…God, I’m a mess.”

  “It’s okay. You have every right to be.” He paused while I took another drink. “Now hurry up and getcha little princess ass up, and answer their questions. We have a lil’ boy to get back to.”

  Yes, he definitely knew what to say to help me. I smiled. Again.

  “Thanks, brut.”

  He laughed and helped me to my feet. “I’ll see ya in a little bit. No worries, okay?”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  I took a few shaky steps toward the Army officer and gathered my courage. I glanced back as Brett was leaving with the other officer through the second set of doors. I was really going to have to find a way to pay him back for his help. I couldn’t have done this without him.

  CHAPTER 30

  Does thinking about murdering someone really constitute a sin? If so, I was in a lot of trouble. I was ready to jump across the table and strangle the man in front of me. He was the third person to come in and question me. The first two were in Army attire, this one was in a suit and informed me he was with the CIA. I couldn’t have cared less who they were. My son was having a life-saving surgery, and they were preventing me from being with him.

  I was in a small room with a table, two chairs, and window with bars on the outside. The sun had come up a little while ago, notifying me that it was already morning. Either I had slept longer than I thought before the surgery started or I’d been in this room so long that I’d lost track of time. There was what I assumed was a large, one-way window on the wall, so it frustrated me that they couldn’t just watch the other interviewers and get their answers. Besides, almost all of the questions were the same from person to person.

  I knew the first surgery for Josie had taken about five hours, but wasn’t sure how long this one would take, and nobody would answer any of my questions about him. Without knowing how long I’d been in questioning, without knowing how my son was doing, I was growing increasingly more agitated. I needed to be with him when he woke up. I needed to know he was going to be okay. I needed to hold the only thing I had left from my messed up life.

  “Excuse me,” I interrupted the man’s question, “I need to go to my son now.” I emphasized my words hoping he’d see my resolve.

  “We are well aware of the situation, Ms. Sandviel, but we must finish the interrogation first.”

  Screw his interrogation! “Am I some kind of suspect here?”

  “No, not at this time.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Not at this time?

  “My son had a bomb implanted in him, Mister…” Great, I had already forgotten his name. “Listen, I know how important this is, but I’ve repeated my story so many times. I don’t know anything else. Can you please call someone and ask how my son’s doing? Don’t you think that’s the least you could do considering what’s going on?”

  My voice was very angry, but can you blame me? He acted like he didn’t care, or that I may be to blame for something so sickening.

  The agent looked down at his papers, his mouth twisting, before looking back at me. “Let’s finish the last two questions I have here, and then I’ll have somebody call. Will that suit you?”

  He was getting an attitude with me. What an asshole!

  “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” He could take his attitude and shove it.

  “Okay then. When you and your husband were in Dr. Majmudan’s office in Chicago, can you describe what you saw? Any papers, documents of any kind, anything he may have said that sounded odd, whatever you can remember, please?”

  His please was only a formality. I already knew he didn’t care about me as a person. I sat back and closed my eyes, trying to picture that day in my head so I could get this over with.

  “When we were discussing the surgery and the doctor was talking about his training seminar, he was about to tell us where it was located. You know, what country. He paused and looked down at his yellow note pad and read something. After that, he looked back at us, but avoided the question. He said it was out of the country, but nothing else. Then he changed the subject.

  “My husband was so impressed by who the assistant surgeon would be, that he forgot to ask while we were in the office with him. We didn’t have a chance to ask again until the next morning when we called him back to tell him we’d go with him and have the surgery out of the country. That’s when he told us that it would be in Peru.”

  He continued making notes and without looking up he asked, “Anything else? Did you see anything abnormal?”

  “It was a small office. There were papers, boxes, and books everywhere. It was extremely messy. The doctor excused the condition by saying that he was remodeling his primary office. I didn’t look at any of the books or papers. I don’t remember there even being a computer in use, only two that were on the floor next to the wall. They were in boxes that weren’t closed yet.”

  “Okay, now the day of the surgery. You mentioned that there was an argument outside your son’s recovery room. Can you tell me more about that?”

  No, I didn’t want to. I wanted to leave. But his question made me realize that other people would be considered suspects. Remembering the nurses who had argued on my son’s behalf that day, I didn’t want them to be in trouble when they had tried to help.

  “I couldn’t understand most of what they were saying, they were speaking in another language. Miguel and I listened, and he translated most of what he heard for me. He told me the nurses were yelling at the doctor about his choice to move the patient so soon after surgery. The doctor explained the medical room that was prepared for Josiah at Osan’s home. The nurses still weren’t happy with the decision, and continued to argue with him. Finally, the doctor yelled out in English that they were fired. We didn’t hear any other conversation after that. The doctor came into our room about fifteen minutes later.”

  The agent scribbled more. Then looked up at me without speaking, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

  “That’s all I remember.”

  “Yes.” He paused, the doubt showing across his face. “Well, we may have more questions for you as this progresses, but for now, that’s all. I suppose I’ll go have someone make that call for you now.” He gathered his things, stood, and left the room.

  He supposed? I’m sorry it was such an inconvenient task to act slightly humane. I was doing my best, and he still treated me like I’d done something wrong.

  I started strumming my fingers on the table and staring straight ahead at the one-way window. Whoever was on the other side needed to see my anger, my impatience. I knew it wouldn’t do any good, but I wanted someone to pay. Looks were all I had at this time.

  About ten minutes later, the door opened,
and two military officers stood inside the doorframe. “Miss, you can come with us now.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I jumped up and went to the door. One of them handed me my purse and bag they had taken from me earlier. I hoped they enjoyed searching my tampons and pads, there wasn’t anything exciting in there. I should’ve left used snot rags laying inside for them to find.

  Following them out the door, they moved ahead and gestured for me to follow them. We walked down a short corridor, coming to a stop in front of two closed metal doors. The men paused until a beeping noise, followed by a clicking of the lock unlatching sounded.

  Pulling the doors open, one of them angled his head as he led me through.

  “Where are we going now?” I asked.

  “Back to the medical complex, Ms. Sandviel.”

  Finally. I needed to lose the attitude, and prepare myself for Josie.

  I followed the two men as we made twists and turns down different hallways and wondered if Brett was still in questioning. I didn’t see how that could be since he only had about a day’s worth of information and I had years to cover. At least I hoped he didn’t have to go through what I had. He didn’t deserve that, not when he’d already given so much of himself to help me.

  We pushed through the set of swinging doors I had been taken through hours earlier. The hall in front of us was completely dark. Nobody was around. I slowed, wondering why everything looked deserted.

  “Please come this way, your son’s waiting for you.”

  I quickened my steps and caught back up to them. My back had been hurting from sitting for hours and my headache almost made me nauseous, but as we walked the halls my adrenaline kicked in, and the pain was forgotten. All I could think about was my little boy, and the possibility that the bomb was gone and everything would be okay.

  “How long was I in questioning?”

  “Nearly six hours, Miss.”

  My God, six hours? I assumed it was a couple, possibly three, but never that long. As I gathered my thoughts, we continued our brisk walk and I was led down a hall into what looked like a normal hospital wing. The lights started growing brighter and the sounds of hospital machines beeping and people shuffling about increased.