First things first. She gave the Lisa a faint smile, still confused by the nearly loving return-gaze, and made her way to the phone. She called her supervisor, the base public affairs officer, opting for his cell phone since she had no idea what time it was.
“Captain Stass.” His answer was uncharacteristically void of personality, sounding anxious and almost demanding.
“Sir, it’s Sergeant Carter…”
“Johnnie! Where the hell are you? Are you alright? We’ve left a thousand messages on your phone. You have no idea…” He stopped short… “Where are you?”
She was flooded with relief flooded at the sound of a familiar voice. Before answering his questions, she had to ask, “Sir…What about Jason? Is Jason OK?”
“He’s fine, Johnnie…but when he got the police back to the accident site, you were gone and…,” he was suddenly and awkwardly silent. “He’s fine, just a few bruises and worried sick about you. Are you hurt? Why haven’t you answered your phone? Are you with anyone?”
“I’m fine, but I think my clothes are covered with blood and I was afraid…” Her damned throat defied her again, constricting so tightly it hurt as she fought back sudden tears. “I thought the blood might be Jason’s. And there’s no cell coverage out here.” She was all at once uneasy and very, very tired. She simply wanted to get back.
After a short silence, she told him she was at a trailer park near Chut. Placing her hand over the phone, she asked Lisa for more specifics. Her apparent newest fan gave her information about their exact location, which she passed on to the captain. At least there was hope of rescue.
“Johnnie, don’t go anywhere and don’t call anyone else. It will take me at least an hour to get there and it’ll be hard to find in the dark.” That meant the sun was setting, she thought, then foolishly realized it had, indeed, gotten darker since she awoke. So the accident must have been earlier today…It would be Friday night now.
“Yes, Sir, I won’t go, but I really want to call Jason…” His response cut her off.
“Don’t call. Johnnie, I mean it…just wait. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Don’t call and don’t leave.” And his voice disappeared, leaving the line dead.
She continued to press the handset to her head, trying to process what had happened, relieved about Jason, but confused about the rest. And she was honestly delaying hanging up as long as possible due to an unexplainable, but instinctive dread of the inevitable conversation with this strange woman.
Unable to fake it any longer, she said her goodbyes to no one at all and placed the grubby phone on the hook. As she reluctantly returned to the table and uneasily sat down, Lisa blurted, “I’m so sorry I yelled at you, it was ungrateful and I was just looking in on you when I saw you was messing with the window plastic, and Ollie would kill me if it tore…anyway, I’m sorry.”
She pushed unwelcome images of the unknown Ollie from her mind as she offered a weak apology, in return, for attacking Lisa with the chair.
“You were in your rights, after what you done for me. I should have helped you if you wanted the window changed, not hollered at you.” Lisa gave a firm nod of her head as she chastised herself, unconsciously rocking the peacefully sleeping infant.
“Lisa? What am I doing here? Why didn’t you call someone for help?”
Lisa stared at Johnnie, tipped her head and squinted, then quickly looked down at her baby. She was apparently a little confused too. The silence was unnerving and Johnnie jumped so high her knees hit the table when something shoved between her arm and waist.
“Oh…hi, again.” She said, relieved and oddly comforted by the appearance her clumsy bed partner’s huge head. She rewarded the dog with a scratch.
“Betsy there has taken a shine to you. She don’t like strangers. But you ain’t a stranger…in fact, I thought you was an angel or something, even with Army clothes, till you wanted to use the phone just now. Well, and I guess the bathroom too. I don’t think angels do that either….”
Johnnie was just about done with this.
“…and I know all about angels from them stories.” Lisa practically sputtered as she gestured to the pile of tabloids on the table. “The Constellation magazine has a guy, a Angel Tracker who…”
“Air Force. I’m Air Force, not Army. Lisa, I’m sorry, but what in the hell are you talking about and please, again, how did I get here and why did you just put me in bed with the dog and not call anyone?!”
Lisa swallowed audibly then quietly replied, “You came on your own. I don’t know how you got here…and you made Emily not sick anymore and I didn’t call anyone because you must’ve walked in fine, brought my Emily back from a bad place, then you went in and went to sleep. Why would I call someone when you was fine…a little dirty, but fine? Why would I want you to leave? And why don’t you know? ”
Johnnie weighed this information as her breath worked in short bursts. Afraid to ask, but more afraid not to,
“How did I get in this house and what was wrong with…Emily? Who is Emily?”
“Well, I guess maybe that’s how the divine works.” Lisa said with a slow, knowing nod. “Mysterious. I knew a miracle when I seen it and I just figured you knew what you was doing. You are my savior and I am forever grateful!!” After gushing the last sentence and squeezing a newly awakened cry out of the child, Lisa quickly composed herself and shushed little Em’ while standing.
“I’m sorry. Oh, this is Emily. She’s probably hungry again. She’s eat more since you got here than she has in forever…”
Lisa lifted her t-shirt and reached inside. Johnnie suddenly realized what was about to happen and immediately averted her gaze. A traitor to her gender, she was not comfortable with the whole baby thing and the mere thought of nursing made her inexplicably queasy.
“I darn near dried up since she got sick, but another miracle, I’m as full as a milk cow now!” Lisa exclaimed, making Johnnie’s stomach lurch until she heard the baby quiet down and assumed the feeding had commenced. She turned and looked straight at Lisa’s eyes.
“And?”
Baby in place, the young woman sat back down, settled in and said, as if she were giving a testimonial, “Emily has been very sick with rash and a hot fever for days and she wasn’t crying no more and was so skinny…and she wouldn’t even look at me. It was like she couldn’t see me.” Lisa’s voice caught. She cleared her throat and then lifted her head to resume.
“Ollie is on the road, he’s a trucker, and I didn’t know what to do. He told me to not call a doctor ‘less someone was bleeding because we don’t have insurance yet. I was about give up on the whole thing when I just laid down on the couch yesterday. She was in her little bed there on the floor and I was sure she was dying and I guess I just plumb went to sleep. I woke up because Betsy was whining and her tail wacked me in the head from wagging.”
She started talking faster, “And there you were, holding my baby and she was crying, but as a mom, I KNOWED it was in a good way. Betsy, who don’t like any strangers, was wagging like you belonged. Then you gave Em’ to me and you and Betsy went to bed, even though it was afternoon. I was fixin’ to call the police till I looked at my baby and her rash was gone and she was cool to touch and she looked at me. And she cried with that hungry sound. And I had milk!” She may as well have ended her spiel with a hallelujah as she shot a satisfied look at Johnnie.
“There. See there? You came from nowhere and saved my baby!”
Johnnie tried desperately not to give in to the pressure in her head and chest. She looked away from the convicted, triumphant stare. This woman was clearly crazy. Checked out. Totally out of her gourd. What were the odds that you could survive a life-threatening trauma and end up in the hands of a nutcase? Stephen King’s “Misery” came to mind, and Johnnie immediately pushed the fog from her mind and went into survival mode. The captain should be here within the hour…
“Well, uh, you are welcome, Lisa. I’m sure it’s the least I could do. Do you have a porch
light? Can I turn it on? My boss will be here soon…he’ll probably have the police with him. Military police. With guns.” She stood, slowly walking toward the door.
“Well, I think the bulb burned out, but you can try the switch there by the door. You must be hungry…” Lisa commented, apparently oblivious to the underlying threat of being the target of a military operation.
Johnnie had tried the light, which, indeed, did not work, when a detail of Lisa’s story hit her and she turned back to face the room.
“Yesterday? You said I came yesterday?” Lisa nodded vigorously in reply, apparently eager to please.
“That’s why I come checking on you in the room; you was asleep for a long time.”
Johnnie chose to hang around by the door in case she needed a quick escape. As she looked down and wondered again where the blood had come from, Betsy, who managed well with her three existing appendages, doddered over to her new friend and leaned against her lovingly.
Today was Saturday. She’d lost a whole day and this knowledge threatened, again, to sweep her sense of reality right out from under her feet. As if asking about a three-legged canine would restore normalcy to this conversation—and to her world -- Johnnie cupped Betsy’s head in her hands and asked Lisa, “So what’s the deal with this one? How’d she get this way?”
Emily had apparently had her fill and Lisa patted her tiny back rapidly as she answered her guest.
“I don’t know. That dog came to me just as she is and I’m letting her stay as long as she wants. If she goes, I’ll figure she chose to. She’s just that way, three-legged and all, and I didn’t judge.” Emily abruptly rewarded her mama with a burp that seemed to defy her size. Lisa slowly looked up, catching Johnnie’s gaze.
“Kind of like I done with you, I guess.”
The captain showed up shortly thereafter, and after awkward thank yous and goodbyes Johnnie closed the trailer door with trepidation, as if attempting to sever the connection to an alternate reality. She had no way of knowing this was a feeling with which she would become very familiar.
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Driving in the dark expanse of the Nevada desert, Johnnie repeatedly assured her captain she was fine, other than feeling like she had spent the last few hours in Purgatory. She apologized emphatically for his having to spend time away from his family this evening.
All thoughts of regret left her when she discovered he’d brought food. Even less lady-like than usual, she noisily devoured her Big Mac, her fries and what was left of his fries. Further ignoring all social graces, in the midst of chewing, she asked again about Jason, receiving the same response as before.
Now very full and assuming things were going to return to a steady state, she told the captain about the bizarre events at Green Acres. He seemed mildly amused by her initial encounter with the deformed dog and the frontal assault via chair on an innocent civilian.
His demeanor changed, however, as the tale moved into Lisa’s outlandish story of Johnnie’s saintly appearance and acts. He chuckled at first, jokingly calling her, “St. John,” but then he shot her a glance and became very quiet, taking the wind out of Johnnie’s story-telling sails. Feeling as though she’d just delivered a poorly received punch-line, Johnnie faltered with the old stand-by, “Well, I guess you had to be there.” Adding, “Shit! Maybe not…I supposedly was there and don’t remember most of it!”
Silence.
“Captain….if Jason’s okay and I’m okay, where did all this blood come from?” But as soon as she asked the question, she snapped her head to face him. “Oh my God! The other guy! The farmer…”
Cringing, she considered the large amount of blood on her clothes and remembered how much pink water had pooled in the bathroom sink when she washed her arms and hands. She must have tried to save the guy… and maybe subsequently blocked out the experience? Must have been in shock or something…
The captain didn’t answer at first, then said, “Well, surprisingly, he’s fine now.” He glanced at her nervously, “Perfect, in fact. He wants to meet you, but we have some other things to tend to first.”
“Wow…well, I’m fine with meeting him. I can’t believe he’s okay, considering…,” she gestured at the crusted reddish brown mess that pelted every part of her apparel. Then, with a wave of exhaustion, “I guess all that combat first aid training paid off.”
She dozed off well before they arrived at a hospital in the town nearest the base. She protested mightily about going to the emergency room, but the captain left no room for discussion.
After a thorough look-over, including a CT scan, she was given a cursory clean bill of health, bruised head and general body aches notwithstanding. The ER staff suggested an immediate follow up the next day at the base clinic. As they left the hospital around midnight, the captain’s disposition was still a bit off, but Johnnie was so wiped out she scarcely noticed.
Since her car was still on base from the day before, the Captain drove her home and told her he’d be by to pick her up in the morning at ten o’clock so she could retrieve her car and to give them a chance to discuss the “situation.” When she balked at such a late meeting time, he shut her down, insisting that she needed the rest.
She thanked him as she eased her very achy body out of his old, low sitting Fiero. With great effort, she finally stood on the eroded curb and was about to close the door when he called her name.
Stiffly and with a soft grunt, she leaned down so she could see his face through the cab on the other side of the tiny car.
“It’s really pertinent that you not talk to anyone about this just yet. We’ll get to the bottom of it all in the morning. Understand?” He looked at her, not sternly, but with a serious uneasiness that made her hold back on what may have been her characteristic challenge of an unreasonable request. She respected his rank, but they knew each other well.
“Sir, I don’t understand at all. But right now, I just want to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” One hand on top of the car, the other planted in the small of her back, she mechanically re-accomplished getting into an erect position and tiredly pushed the door closed. Perplexed, but beyond caring, she was in her own bed, sans large dog, within ten minutes.
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Climbing back into the Fiero at ten sharp the next morning was almost like déjà vu. Johnnie’s sleep was hard and dreamless and ended with scant time to shower, dress and get out of the door. She was still a little slumber-shocked and it felt a bit surreal sitting in a seat she’d vacated around nine hours before; the non-thinking part of her psyche was sure the seat would still be warm.
Her appearance, however, verified the passed time. Rested, groomed, and in a full uniform, she may have looked fully “together” if she weren’t juggling a covered coffee cup and two coldly stiff pieces of pizza snatched straight from their four-day home in her nearly barren refrigerator. She greeted her boss through the side of her mouth while clamping the fluff of ripped paper towel in her teeth. Impressively, she closed the door with the pizza hand and settled back to inhale her breakfast.
Pulling out into the street, Jerod Stass sized up his passenger, side-eyed.
“You look like whole new issue this morning, Sarge. Much better…. Glad you could find an alternate pair of boots…But you didn’t need to wear a uniform.”
Mouth full of pizza, she emphatically rolled her eyes, communicating it had been no small trick to replace the other boots on short notice. After nearly leaping into a clean uniform this morning, too rushed to give much thought to the previous day, Johnnie had prepared to thrust her feet into her boots – instantly dropping them as if they were on fire. Their unfortunate filthy state was a crude reminder of the weird recent events, both known and unknown. Between swallowing the food and chugging coffee, she explained these were steel toed boots typically reserved for wear when covering stories in certain work zones.
Only then did she wonder why she didn’t need to wear a uniform, and why he hadn’t worn one. Her boss was sporting jeans and a tee-shirt. The question apparently showed on her face.
“It’s Sunday.” He remarked, now staring at the road and traffic ahead. She felt her face flush with the delivery of that piece of information…then decided it was best to shrug it off, wanting badly to downplay the fact that she’d already lost one day.
“So. Other than forgetting what day it is, did the sleep clear the fog? Do you remember any more about the time following the accident?” the captain asked.
Johnnie had known this man long enough to know he was straining to sound casual and she was suddenly reminded of the same tone yesterday, as well as his directing her not to call Jason, or anyone else. While a huge part of her was good and ready to find out what was going on, a smaller, but insistent part of her mind – and gut – were filled with foreboding. She lowered her hands to her lap, resting the pizza crust on top of the cup.
“No, Sir. Granted, I haven’t been conscious long enough to think much about it.” In a visible attempt to concentrate, she closed her eyes tightly and pursed her lips in what looked like a sideways pucker. Flashes of a smiling three-legged dog, pink water pooling in a small dark sink, and the creepy, ogling eyes of Lisa from Green Acres flooded her mind like spinning images from an old movie trailer. Her eyes popped open while she released a noisy expulsion of air.
“Color me silly, but I just don’t think anything from that accident could have been worse than those couple hours in mobile home hell.” She looked at him imploringly, eyebrows high and knitted, “When the best thing you’ve got going is a roll in the mattress with a three-legged dog…suddenly a head-on collision doesn’t seem so bad.”
His failure to respond to her attempt to lighten the air fueled her mouth even more.
The Unlikely Savior (The Unlikely Savior Trilogy) Page 2
