After Midnight

by Lacy Hart

  “Sure, I have,” I told Dr. Weber. “When you spend that much of your life having everything regimented, and then you live on a heightened state of alert all the time, always expecting the worst, it’s tough to come back and be expected to just pick up and live a normal life again. I’ve had trouble sleeping, felt anxious and yes… it’s been tough to talk to and interact not just with my son and Linda, but with people in general.”

  “Do you have any friends in the area, outside of your family?”

  “Not really,” I said as I sank back in the chair. “The people I would call friends are all either still in the military or scattered around the country, living their own lives. I never knew anyone that lived in Swanson. My wife chose to live here because she liked the small town feel and it wasn’t too far from Fort Bragg.”

  “Right,” Dr. Weber said. He flipped through his folder and notes. “Your wife was Ella. I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know her personally, but I know Linda has spoken of her. I’m sure all that makes it difficult for you to adjust around here as well.”

  “Doc, can we not talk about… about her. It’s not something I want to get into.” I felt myself fidgeting in the chair again and then glancing down at my watch to see how much longer this was going to go on.

  “Sure, no problem,” Dr. Weber said to me, closing his folder. “Tell me about what you like to do. Do you have interests outside of the military? Have you thought about looking for different work now that you are retired? It might give you a chance to meet some new people, try something interesting to you.”

  “I haven’t thought much about another job just yet,” I told him honestly. “My pension is fine for me to live on right now, and it’s hard for me to envision another job that I would get as much from as I did in the military. I never had any hobbies or outside interests. The Army was pretty much my life.”

  “But I’m sure you have a lot of skills that can be applied in different jobs, especially if you were Special Forces trained. You must know how to do a lot of things that people can’t even imagine.”

  “What I can do doesn’t seem any more than what the other soldiers in Special Forces can do. We’re cross-trained in a lot of areas so that we can cover different things and take on tasks as the assignment develops. Can I do a lot? Maybe, but I don’t know how practical being a weapons specialist is in the real world. And maybe I don’t want the job where those skills are an asset.”

  “Fair enough,” Dr. Weber said with a smile. I noticed he glanced at the clock on his desk. “We’re just about out of time for today, Caleb. I would like it if you would be willing to come back and see me. Maybe we can get together and talk once or twice a week?”

  I considered what he was asking. I did feel more at ease with him than I had with any of the Army doctors I had spoken with, and he wasn’t trying to push me in a direction I wasn’t comfortable with, which was a big plus for me.

  “I can give it a try,” I told him.

  “Great,” he said, standing up from his chair. “How about we plan to meet on Monday and Wednesday next week? You can come during normal business hours if you want, or I’d be happy to meet you at 6 PM again, your choice.”

  “Evenings work fine for me,” I answered.

  “Okay, I’ll put you down for 6 PM. One more thing – I would like your permission to get your records from the Army, at least what they are willing to send me. I think if I know some of your background it might be helpful moving forward until we get to know each other better.”

  Dr. Weber handed me a form to sign granting him permission to get my files. I took the pen from him and scribbled my name on the signature line. “I don’t know how much you will get but knock yourself out.”

  “Thanks, Caleb, and thank you for coming in. Can I ask you one more thing?” he said as he opened his office door.

  “You’re getting a little pushy Doc,” I said to him.

  Dr. Weber laughed again. “I know, but this is a simple thing. Before you come in on Monday, I want you to take the time to try and meet one person in town, someone you can talk to, that you think could be a friend to you. Just do that, and we’ll talk about how it went on Monday, okay?”

  “I’ll try,” I said as I shook his hand. Dr. Weber walked me towards the reception room door.

  “Perfect,” he said with a smile. “Enjoy your weekend.”

  “Thanks, you too,” I replied as I walked out of the office. I walked out of the building and out onto the street. Darkness had set in now since it was after seven, and I began my walk back to the house, moving past the people on the street. The visit had gone better than I had hoped, and Dr. Weber was not nearly as difficult to deal with as I thought he might be. I even surprised myself by agreeing so readily to see him again.

  When I got back to the house, I could see Linda’s car in the driveway. I knew she would be waiting anxiously for me to come walking through the door to see what my mood was like and how things went. I opened the front door and went in, trying not close the door loudly. No sooner had the door closed when I heard Linda’s voice yell out to me.

  “We’re in the kitchen, Caleb!”

  I walked down the hall and into the kitchen and saw Adam biting into a slice of pizza. I patted him on the back and made my way over to one of the empty chairs on the other side of the table and sat down. I reached into the pizza box and pulled out a slice of sausage and mushrooms, guiding it onto my plate. I took a bite out of the tip of the slice and started chewing and noticed Adam and Linda both staring at me.

  “What?” I said as I tried not to spit pizza out while talking.

  “How did it go?” Linda said to me as she sipped a glass of iced tea.

  “It was fine,” I told her as I took another bite.

  “Did you like Dr. Weber?” Linda asked, hoping for some details.

  “He seems like a nice guy. Very tall, weak handshake.” I looked over at Adam and gave him a little smile. I think he was surprised to see I had a sense of humor.

  “Caleb, stop it,” Linda scolded. “How was he… as a doctor?”

  “I guess he was alright,” I said. “Better than any of the Army doctors I talked to over the years. He at least seems open to listening to what I actually have to say.”

  “Do you feel any better?” Linda asked, picking up her slice of pizza.

  “Linda, it was one session. We didn’t have any major breakthroughs or anything if that is what you mean. I think he just wanted to see what I am like and get some information. I’m seeing him again on Monday.”

  “Oh, good,” Linda said, sounding relieved. “I really think he can help, Caleb. I’m glad you are giving him a chance.”

  I looked over at Adam, unsure as to how much Linda had filled him on me seeing a psychiatrist. He was casually going about eating his meal, working on his second slice of pizza already.

  “How was practice?” I said to him as I poured myself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher.

  Adam looked up at me, surprised I remembered he had practice today. “It was good. I think we’re ready for the game.”

  “Great,” I told him. “I’m looking forward to seeing you play.”

  “You’re coming to the game?” Adam said, sounding shocked. Linda looked over at me, seeming just as surprised.

  “Sure, why not?” I told him. “I never got to see you play for the first three years of school. I thought it might be fun to go. It’s alright if I come, right?”

  “Yeah, I just didn’t think you would want to go and sit in the gym. You know, uncomfortable bleachers, screaming teenagers, all that stuff.” It almost seemed like he was trying to talk me out of going.

  “I know, I’ve never been in uncomfortable, loud places before. It will be tough, but I think I can manage.”

  “That works out perfectly,” Linda said with a smile. “I have a dinner function to go to tomorrow night, so you can give Adam a ride.”

  “Oh, I don’t need a ride to the game,” Adam said quickly. “Preston wa
s going to pick me up.”

  “Not a problem,” I answered. “I can give you a ride home after and maybe we can grab some dinner after the game.”

  “Yeah, okay, I guess so,” Adam answered, finishing his pizza.

  “Unless you had other plans after?” Suddenly I felt like I was encroaching on his life again.

  “No… no, it’s fine Dad,” he said, wiping the sauce from his chin with a napkin. “I’ve got some homework to get to, so I’m heading up. Good night,” he said. Adam gave Linda a hug before he went upstairs, then looked over at me, stopped for a second, and then left to go upstairs.

  I heard him go up the stairs and close his bedroom door.

  “Well that wasn’t too uncomfortable,” I said to Linda.

  “What?” Linda said to me, grabbing the empty plates off the table and putting them in the dishwasher.

  “The way Adam reacted when I said I wanted to go to the game and take him to dinner. It was like I had leprosy or something.”

  “He said it was fine, Caleb,” Linda answered. “I think you’re reading way too much into it.”

  “It was the way he said it was fine, Linda,” I told her. “It was like he was embarrassed to have me go to the game.”

  “I don’t think that was it at all. I think he was surprised you wanted to go. You’ve been more than a little withdrawn since you came home, Caleb. Maybe he was beginning to wonder about whether you wanted to be around him or not.”

  “I know,” I said, feeling guilty about the way I have been towards Adam, and towards Linda. “I’m trying, Linda, I really am. It’s just not so easy for me right now.”

  Linda came over and gave me a hug, just like she used to when we were younger.

  “I understand it’s been tough for you, little brother,” she said to me. “I’m glad to see that you’re trying to change things. I think you’re headed in the right direction.”

  “Thanks,” I said to her, breaking the hug.

  “Hey, want to play some cards tonight?” I asked Linda.

  “Cards? Really?” she said. Now she was the one sounding shocked.

  “Sure,” I said to her. “You and I used to play rummy all the time when we were kids. It will be fun.”

  Linda smiled over at me. “I don’t know Caleb. It’s already 8:30.”

  “Seriously? It’s 8:30 is your excuse? Now you sound like an old lady,” I teased.

  “Old lady?” she yelled. She reached into one of the kitchen drawers and rummaged around a bit before she found a deck of cards.

  “Sit down, little brother,” Linda said as she started shuffling the cards. She reached over and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off the far side of the table.

  “I’m going to kick your butt like I did when we were kids,” Linda said with a grin.

  8

  Sarah

  As tired as I was after working all day and then a gut-wrenching argument right after walking through the door, I couldn’t get myself to sleep right away. Every part of my body ached and seemed filled with anxiety. Whenever I closed my eyes to try to sleep, I would get flashbacks to that incident of years ago, something I desperately tried to put behind me. I could see myself waking up in the morning and checking my email and social media only to see pictures of me plastered everywhere, pictures that I still don’t know who took or how they were able to get onto my social media pages so my friends and family would see them.

  Someone had obviously placed cameras in my dorm room and in the shower room in my dorm suite and was able to take pictures and video of me getting undressed, showering, and getting dressed. My roommate at the time, Andrea, a junior like me, swore up and down that she didn’t know anything about it. Campus security was finally able to find the cameras hidden in different places, but they never found out who placed them there. To make matters worse, this person or persons had hacked into my social media accounts, posted the pictures and video, sent emails to everyone on my contacts list, and made life miserable for me. Everyone I knew, including my parents, ended up seeing these pictures, and I was mortified. It took some effort to get the pictures removed, and even with the investigation, they were never able to track who got into my accounts and put them there.

  At the time, I was just starting to come out of my shell and into my own at Swanson College. I was making friends, doing well in classes, and I thought I had people around me I could trust and count on. All that changed in an instant, with people looking at me everywhere I went, talking behind my back or coming right up to me, saying crude and hurtful things. After a week or two of dealing with it constantly, day and night, I couldn’t take it anymore and broke down. I called my parents, hoping I could leave school and just come home. It had taken a lot to convince them I could live on campus and be my own person without trouble in the first place, even though the college wasn’t more than an hour from their home.

  Unfortunately, they were not there for me like parents should be for their children. My parents were always strict, religious people that thought highly of their reputation in their social circles. When the pictures got around, and word got out about them, they didn’t know how to react. They both blamed me for “allowing” this to happen to me, not believing me when I insisted I had not posed for or consented to the pictures, even though I had never given them any reason to question me or my behavior in the past. My mother insisted it would be too much if I came home and lived with them, and that people in the church and the town would never be able to accept and handle having me there. My father refused to even talk to me about it, and while I begged and pleaded to come home, the answer was clearly a no.

  The shock as my mother hung up the phone left me stunned. I began to believe what they said and felt – that this somehow was my fault, that I should be ashamed of how I could let this happen to me, and I felt that way for a long time afterward. It took me years to overcome those feelings, to build my self-confidence back up to where I felt good about myself, even to the point where last year I finally started taking college classes again, although all the classes I took were online classes that Swanson offered. I still could not bring myself to set foot on that campus again, even if most of the people I knew or were aware of the incident were long graduated or gone. I changed my major so that I focused on computer analytics and security. I was determined to not let something like this happen to me again and to have a way to help others prevent it from happening as well and threw myself into my coursework.

  The whole mess also kept me from having a social life as I withdrew and became reluctant to let people in, keeping most people at a distance. That is why working the graveyard shift seemed so inviting to me and has worked well. I don’t have to deal with a lot of people all the time. Most of the people I have worked with over the years I have been at the Moonlight have come and gone, staying for a short time while they worked through school or until the work became too much for them. Other than Justin, the cook, no one I started with was still there. Francesca was the first person I have allowed myself to get friendly with, even to the point where I told her privately about what had happened, which was a big step for me.

  Now all the strides I thought I had taken to move forward and past everything have fallen by the wayside, and I felt like I was right back in that same position, curled up in my bed, blanket tucked under my chin, crying because it was all my fault. Even the ally I thought I had in James felt like he was slipping away now, and I wasn’t sure just what I was going to do.

  It was plain to me that Denise didn’t want me here anymore. When I first came to live with them five years ago, Denise was more helpful and receptive to the idea. She had wanted to go back to work at that point in her life and having me here afforded her the opportunity to do so and still have someone at home to take care of Lizzie afterschool, help with chores and meals, and so on. I was more than happy to take on the role, feeling grateful just to have a place to live, and I relished getting to spend time with Lizzie and James, neither of which I had gotten to know
very well.

  Lizzie and I clicked right away, and I was able to help her with school, teach her some skills, and be an aunt, friend, confidante, and sister all rolled into one. I think Denise began to resent our relationship as time went on, but she liked having the flexibility to go out to parties, work late, spend time with friends or go away for trips without having to worry about her daughter. I don’t think she liked that Lizzie started to come to me more and more for what she needed in life. All of that was coming to a head now, and she saw this as the ideal opportunity to get me to leave.

  My mind spent hours spinning over and over the past and the present, and then it settled on all this occurring because of an innocent walk home. I never thought in a million years that a quick walk home and some conversation with someone I didn’t know at all could turn on me so quickly. It made me feel like it wasn’t worth it to seek out any type of friendship or anything else with anyone, let alone with a man.