Sweetness in the Dark

by W. B. Martin

  Before Noel knew it, a helicopter landed and loaded the injured major. The medic pushed Noel onto the copter as it lifted off. They were soon at a hospital in Tauranga, on the Bay of Plenty.

  Noel counted himself lucky as the nurse worked on dressing his wounds. Last time he had almost died. This time it was Major Smith who fought for his life. When the nurse was finished, Noel made his way to surgery to check on his commander.

  “You’re with the major. Well, he’s a very lucky man. We saved his leg, and his stomach wound wasn’t as bad as we thought. He should make a full recovery,” the surgeon reported. “Someone did a good job on his first aid right after he was injured.”

  Noel found the major’s room after recovery and sat and waited. The major finally woke a few hours later. Although groggy, he was glad to see a familiar face.

  “Oh, Noel, I’m glad you’re OK. How is everyone else?” he asked.

  “Don’t know, sir,” Noel lied. “I came in on the same ‘copter that brought you.”

  The major turned his head and adjusted his eyes to the light. “Where are we? I see water,” the major said.

  “That’s Tauranga Harbor. They flew us over to the Bay of Plenty. Too many wounded in Hamilton, I guess. It’s nice here. I’ll open the window a little so you can smell the ocean,” Noel said. He cranked the window open a crack. The sea breeze filled the room with salt air. It smelled much better than the antiseptic smell that permeated the hospital.

  “Who opened this window?” a nurse barked as she stormed into their room. “We don’t open the windows here. Too hard to keep things clean. If you want fresh air, there’s a lovely promenade around the point. When the major is feeling better, you may take him. Just head out on the back veranda, turn right and head toward the long-term convalescent center right over there.”

  The nurse pointed toward another white building off to the south. It stood on the bluff overlooking the harbor. Noel could see patients in wheelchairs, covered in blankets, taking in the fresh air.

  * * *

  It was a week before the major felt up for a wheelchair sojourn over to see the promenade. Noel had found an empty bed and although his injuries didn’t warrant a hospital stay, his concern for the major overshadowed official protocol. The doctors and nurses looked the other way as Noel settled into caring for the major.

  A warm, sunny fall day finally called to both of them. They were determined to see the promenade. Noel located a wheelchair and with the nurse’s help, moved Major Smith from the bed. He was delighted to finally get out.

  Noel took ahold of the wheelchair and headed for the elevator. Arriving on the ground floor, the two headed for the outside. The sun blinded them as they went out the doors onto the veranda behind the hospital.

  While a pleasant view of the harbor could be obtained from where Noel stood, he was determined to get the major to the much anticipated promenade by the convalescent center. They had both watched for days as patients were wheeled out, covered, and left to enjoy the sea breeze.

  Noel wheeled the major down the sidewalk that connected the two hospitals. Other patients were ambling along as they tried out injured limbs. They finally reached the promenade and Noel maneuvered the major into a prime site overlooking the harbor. He looked for a blanket and noticed the other patients staring at him.

  “Excuse me. Where could I obtain a blanket for the major?” he asked a nurse walking by.

  She pointed in the direction of a large roller cart with folded blankets lying on top.

  “Thank you, and could you tell me why all these patients are staring at us?”

  “Oh, that. You see, most of these patients are long-term care and have been here for years. We even have a couple of World War II veterans here,” the nurse explained. “You are new and interesting faces to them. They don’t get many visitors or other patients drifting over from the main hospital, I’m afraid.”

  “Why not? It’s so beautiful sitting here. The major couldn’t wait to get healthy enough to be pushed over here. He’s been staring down at the promenade forever waiting,” Noel said.

  “You’ll find out why we don’t have many outsiders here. Must be the settled weather. They’re unusually quiet today.” The nurse excused herself and returned to minding her patients.

  Noel didn’t quite understand what she was talking about, but he thought sitting here in the sun and sea breeze on the promenade was certainly one of the more pleasant spots in the whole country. Especially if one was recuperating from injuries.

  As the sun began to set, hunger and the cool air drove the two war veterans back to their hospital. They decided over dinner that with the fine weather forecasted, they would return the next day to their spot on the promenade.

  In fact the weather continued to hold for several days and each day found Noel reading and talking to the major along the promenade. The patients were still staring at them but continued in their docile mood. The major grew stronger with each day and they both realized that he would be able to leave the hospital soon.

  But then the weather began to change. Noel woke up to large, high clouds moving into the Bay of Plenty area. He and the major were determined to enjoy the beautiful fall weather as long as they could and headed to the promenade as usual.

  But today, the mood had changed. The patients were no longer staring at them. They were more concerned with fighting over everything. Patients yelled at each other about being in the way of their view. They complained to the nurses about being too hot under their blankets. Within minutes, they were complaining about being too cold. Every little disturbance was cause for complaint.

  Noel couldn’t believe the transformation that had taken place. The same nurse that he had talked to was on duty and he stopped her. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, you’re seeing the real group now,” the nurse said. “Most of these patients are brain damaged in some way. Either through injury or some traumatic event in their lives. They are incapable of living in regular society as their mental capacity is severely limited.”

  “But they’re so different today.”

  “As I told you the other day, you first saw them on an unusual day. This is their normal. It seems that the change in pressure when the weather changes affects them. We don’t usually get such a long stretch of settled weather as the last few days. You were lucky.”

  And how, Noel thought. The noise and confusion that went on was intolerable. Now he understood why no one from the hospital ever ventured this far. He began to gather up his things to take the major back to the main hospital area. The view wasn’t as spectacular, but the quiet veranda would have to do.

  “Bloody hell! What are you angels of death trying to do to me now?” a voice screamed behind Noel.

  Noel looked at Major Smith. There was a small glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Noel felt a shiver go up his spine. But no, it couldn’t be, he thought.

  Again the voice ranted. “You bloody bastards already killed off my mates and now you want to throw me off the cliff? Well, I’ll have none of it. Where’s my gun? I’ll teach you some manners.”

  Noel froze. That voice. Why did that voice drive a chill through his body? Did he dare look at where it emanated from? It couldn’t be.

  And then the voice barked again. “Sod off you bugger. Go to bloody hell, you and your randy ways.”

  Noel and Major Smith both turned to the sound. The nurse wrestled with a patient on the other side of the promenade. Noel wheeled his charge over for a closer look as the nurse finally gave up and walked past them headed for the building.

  “And don’t come bloody back. I’d prefer to die alone than with your filthy hands on me.”

  Noel stared at the face as the spittle flew out its mouth and the voice screamed in defiance.

  “What the bloody hell are you two staring at? Never seen a man trying to protect himself before?”

  “Grandfather?” Noel asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

  “Grandfather? Wha
t the bloody hell are you talking about?” the voice demanded.

  The major sat quietly, but nodded his agreement to Noel. Noel was more convinced that sitting before them was his great-grandfather. But how? Who was buried in in that grave in Hamilton if his great-grandfather was sitting here in Tauranga? And how did he end up here? The questions swirled in his brain as he stared at the man in front of him.

  “Sir, I believe you’re my great-grandfather. Does the name Connor Leffingwell mean anything to you?” Noel asked.

  By now the nurse had returned with a doctor. She was armed with a large syringe.

  “I told you the angel of death was upon me. And now she brings Vlad the Impaler along to impose her will. If you’re any relative of mine, get me the bloody hell out of this torture chamber.”

  Noel stopped the nurse from acting and explained that the man she was about to inject was his great-grandfather.

  She explained that he had been brought to the Tauranga Hospital some months back with severe head injuries. While the patient had recovered from the physical wounds, the mental wounds were severe enough that the hospital had him transferred over to the the long-term care facility.

  “And he’s been a royal pain in the arse ever since, I don’t mind telling. If he’s one of yours, you’re welcome to him,” the nurse exclaimed. The frustration in her voice was palpable.

  Noel offered proof of GG’s identity when he described his scars from his World War II injuries in detail. The doctor wrote them down in a notebook. He didn’t dare touch the crazy man, so he asked Noel to visibly verify the information for him.

  “Grandfather, we need to check you over for some old wounds you suffered. The doctor will confirm them and you’ll be able to go home. Please let me check.”

  The old man was happy to disrobe, if it meant getting out of the care facility. He stood up and took his clothes off. Standing naked among the other patients, Noel pointed out the scars he had described while the doctor confirmed them.

  Noel hugged his great-grandfather like he had never hugged anyone in his life. They ignored the crowd of patients around, all of whom stood up and disrobed in unison. Each patient wanted to leave and if standing naked on the promenade would do the trick, they would all gladly comply.

  The paperwork was quickly signed and GG was released to Noel’s care. The two of them took Major Smith back to his room. The major knew that Noel would be leaving in the morning and they would not likely cross paths again. The “Indos’ were almost all repatriated back to their country and word had been sent down that the American troops would finally be heading home.

  “Noel, Great-Grandfather Leffingwell,” the major said. “It has been a privilege to serve with you both. Interesting at times, but a privilege.” He struggled to stand with his leg cast. As he braced himself against the bed, he snapped a salute. The two Kiwis returned the salute.

  “Major, thank you for your service to New Zealand. You’re always welcome here, and we’ll be shouting the beers. You’ll never have to pay for drinks in my country, I can assure you,” Grandfather said. Noel nodded in agreement.

  The next morning, Noel and his great-grandfather headed to the bus station. They were soon headed home to Aorere.

  Chapter 41

  Boise, Idaho

  The President had returned to Boise for a summer vacation. Like all chief executives before him, each had established a ‘Summer White House’. The White House was a thing of the past, but a vacationing President was not.

  Staying in a compound on Lake McCall, the President and his staff enjoyed the fine Idaho weather as they worked part-time. The other time was spent water skiing, riding jet skis or fishing. A newly formed Secret Service continued its job in protecting the nation’s leader.

  Only one public event was scheduled. A press conference had been set to announce the findings of the Ewing Commission. Charged with detailing the culprits in the 2008 financial collapse and subsequent bailout, the final report was ready.

  Paul and Amanda had been invited to attend. They were seated along one wall next to General Ed Gale. Paul and Ed were chatting as the news conference got under way.

  As one of the principal authors of what was being called ‘The Final Accounting of the Former United States’, John would have a place next to the President. Gathering at the McCall Conference Center was a large press crew, anxious for news. The report had been awaited by the public who looked to the new government to clean house of the old politics that had led to the nation’s ruin.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the Union of American States. Please rise,” the Chief-of-Staff announced.

  With no other additional fanfare, the President walked in from a side room and took his place at the lectern on the raised dais. Dr. John Ewing along with other members of the Ewing Commission, were seated behind him.

  The President started his welcoming remarks by introducing the members of the Commission. Finished with formalities, he proceeded to go through the Executive Summary. The President outlined what action the national government was taking in bringing the perpetrators of the financial collapse to justice.

  “I’d like General Ed Gale to rise and be acknowledged. General Gale, formerly of the U. S. Navy, has volunteered to take command of the naval transport of the interned criminals. As you may know, Australia has generously offered to incarcerate these individuals in gratitude for our help in clearing the Chinese invaders from their shores,” the UAS President said. “In addition, the Australian government has agreed to take the criminal gangs that were captured during the recent chaos.”

  Paul looked at his old friend and noticed the chiseled hard expression on his face. As Ed continued to look sternly in the President’s direction, Paul knew what was on his mind. They had both talked the night before and Ed revealed the promise he had made to himself back at the beginning of the campaign to liberate the Pacific Northwest. He knew his friend would follow through on his promise to all the victims. The financial criminals would be just icing on his cake, he thought.

  Finishing up his delivery, the President finally asked for questions. The press shot their hands up and the questions were routine at first. Most of the questions could be answered if the press had bothered to take the time to read the report. Paul marveled at the patience the President displayed as he answered the questions hurled at him.

  Recognizing the New York Times reporter, the President waited for the question. The New York Times had been dying a slow death before ‘the Pulse’. Now, with New York City in shambles and depopulated, the Times had reverted to a status of scandal reporting to try and get its circulation back.

  “Mr. President, I want to question the truthfulness of this whole report,” the reporter started.

  That’s rich, coming from the former newspaper that got caught fabricating stories for years, Paul thought. He knew he could never be a politician and put up with the likes of this guy.

  The Times reporter continued, “Isn’t it true that many of these so-called criminals have never seen the inside of a courtroom?”

  “They were all duly tried and convicted under a military tribunal. The nation was under martial law at that time, fighting for its survival,” the President answered.

  “I would like to quote a member of the new UAS House of Representatives. Congresswoman Rebecca Richards said yesterday on the floor of the House, and I quote, ‘Never in our nation’s long history has such a miscarriage of justice ever taken place,’ unquote. How do you respond?”

  Paul noticed Ed’s anger rise. The initial census that Congress had ordered was just finishing its rough count. It appeared that approximately 160 million people had died from the aftereffects of ‘the Pulse’. Close to half the old United States had fallen victim; better than the 90% death rate predicted by the original Congressional Report, but still devastating.

  That anyone was even now questioning the justice in incarcerating the criminals that had been responsible for many of those deaths was incredible,
Paul thought. Paul just sat amazed at it all.

  The President was more confident of the nation’s mood however. “Yes, and after Ms. Richards had offered those words of wisdom, Congressman Horace Wilder, formerly Sergeant Wilder of our own Idaho 3rd Scouts, stood up in rebuttal. I’ll remind everyone that Sergeant Wilder was the man responsible for bringing the notorious Chairman Z and his henchwoman, ‘the chairwoman’, to justice. The good folks of Idaho rewarded his diligence with a seat in the House. His response was, and I quote, ‘May them all burn in hell’, unquote.”

  The other members of the press all stood and clapped at the President’s remarks. The Times reporter sat down in frustration. He was finding out that the Union of American States was a very different place than the old country had been.

  “Mr. President,” a woman’s voice yelled above the others. Everyone turned to look at a large woman standing at the rear of the room holding her flip notebook. The President acknowledged this new antagonist. She continued, “Margaret Streeter, Christian Press of Charleston, South Carolina. On a different subject, my readers want to know what moral standard you have in your administration.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Streeter. What are you referring to as a ‘moral standard’?”

  “Mrs. Streeter, Mr. President,” the reporter corrected. “You have recently signed legislation that the Christian Caucus in Congress was instrumental in helping you pass. Since the Libertarian Caucus seems to be allied with the Christian Caucus, my readers demand to know just what moral requirements you have for your administration,” Mrs. Streeter demanded.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Streeter. I can assure you that my administration has the highest ethical and moral standards. I will remind your readers that under our new system, I do not pick my Cabinet. The members of the Cabinet are appointed by their respective bodies of Congress,” the President explained. “Consequently, they do not serve at my pleasure and can only be removed by the respective bodies that appointed them.”