by Roslyn Bane
There was a soft knock on the door. “Sam? Are you ill?”
“No. I needed to use the bathroom.” Damn it! She swiped a towel from the rack and twisted it violently.
“Can I come in?”
“Wait a minute.” Sam pushed up and got back to the sink. She splashed cold water on her face and was drying it when Kris knocked again.
“Sam? What’s wrong?” Kris opened the door a few inches. “Are you sick?”
“I’m fine, I—” Her voice cracked, and she turned away.
Kris pushed in “Oh, Sam what’s wrong? Are you having pain? You don’t have on the compression sleeve. I’ll get it. Do you need your medicine?”
“I don’t need any pills!” she snapped. She saw Kris wince with the sharp tone of her voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t need the medicine. It wouldn’t go well with the alcohol.”
Kris stepped up next to her and placed her hands on Sam’s cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”
“It’s nothing.” Sam turned away.
“Look at me. I can tell you’re mad about something. What is going on?”
Sam twisted the towel and fought the unfamiliar impulse to hit the wall. “I had…I had to go the bathroom.” She growled and leaned over the sink. “I couldn’t find my leg. I had to hurry. I…I had to crawl. God this sucks. This sucks! I hate being an amputee.”
“Oh, Sam. I’m sorry.”
“It’s… it was humiliating. I kept hoping you wouldn’t wake up and see me.”
“I didn’t see you.” Reaching out she placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You could have asked me for help.”
“I should be able to go to the bathroom by myself.”
“You did.”
“On my own two feet.”
“You can’t. You only have one. So you have a choice to make. Always keep Betty close by, ask for help, or do what you did. As far as keeping Betty close by, I know you usually do. But we didn’t think about that before. We were preoccupied.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. Emotionally I don’t know how you feel. But I like to think that I am compassionate enough to. Will you sit down?” Sam hopped to the edge of the tub, and Kris sat down next to her and leaned against her shoulder. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you know what vertigo is?”
“Well, yeah every pilot does. It’s where everything seems like it’s spinning, and you can’t tell up from down.”
“Pretty much. If I told you that when I get a head cold I have a tendency to get vertigo and that leaves me unable to walk. And that I end up getting sick to my stomach, would you ignore me? Deny me help if I asked?”
“No, of course not.”
“If I had vertigo and didn’t want to ask for help and you saw me crawl to the bathroom, would you think less of me, or would you offer to help?”
“I…I’d help you. Whether you wanted me to or not.”
Kris knelt down in front of Sam, grasped her hands “Then don’t deny me the opportunity to help you. There are many things I can’t help you with. This is something I can.”
Sam looked down and saw the compassion and sadness in Kris’ eyes. Again, she was surprised when she had the sense of familiarity of Kris kneeling next to her. She was silent for a long moment before shrugging it off. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“I appreciate that. Now would you like some assistance getting back to bed?”
“Absolutely, I’m freezing. And from the looks of you, you could use some warming up to.” Sam gestured to Kris’ turgid nipple. “Let’s go get warmed up.”
Chapter Forty-six
SEPTEMBER FLEW BY WITH Kris on a full operating schedule and clinic duties. Sam continued to progress through therapy and was the liaison for her squadron, which remained overseas, but she worked on readying the squadron spaces and maintenance shop for their return. She spent a portion of each day with the wounded warrior regiment, now working as a peer counselor/advisor for others as they transitioned into the unit. And three or four times a week she managed to squeeze some time into the flight simulator and practice her skills.
Kris was rediscovering herself as she slowly realized she had surrendered much of her autonomy to Shelly through their years together. She deleted the occasional angry email or phone call from Shelly without responding to any of her promises or threats.
Sam spent a lot of her free time researching and talking to pilots across the different services that had lost legs and found out more about the medical evaluation board. She was trying to find a pattern to what the pilots who had been retained for flying had done differently from those who were not retained. Sam exercised relentlessly, pushing herself a little harder each day to help control her increasing anxiety about her future. She spoke to her foster parents weekly keeping them updated on her progress, and she joined several online amputee support groups. She frequently found herself wondering what Kris was doing, and promised herself she would cautiously enjoy the present.
***
Kris and Sam returned from dinner out and were outside enjoying a glass of wine as the sun set. “Kris, would you like to go away for the weekend? Maybe head out toward Asheville? They have a nice arts district and some excellent restaurants and clubs. We could do some hiking too, not too rugged.”
“That sounds like fun. Why don’t you pick the trail? Do you want me to make arrangements for the trip?”
“No, I’ll take care of it. Are you able to leave on Friday?”
“Yes. I should be home by five.”
“Great.” She leaned over and kissed Kris. “I’ll pick you up here.”
“It should be fun.” Kris placed her hand on Sam’s cheek. “Do you want to go inside and watch a movie?”
“No. I want to go inside and go to bed. I missed you last weekend when you were on call.”
“I missed you too.” Kris took Sam’s hand and led her inside.
***
Sam and Kris had been hiking on a looped trail for about two hours when they stopped back at the parking area and refilled their water bottles. After having lunch, they started walking again. They had been hiking for twenty minutes when they heard someone running toward them.
A man ran through the brush. “Help! I need help. My daughter fell. She’s bleeding. Please help.”
“Show us.”
Kris took off running with the man, and Sam followed as quickly as she could. They arrived several minutes later; a pregnant woman was kneeling on the ground peering over a ledge. “Stay still honey Daddy is getting help.”
They stopped and peered over the edge of an eight-foot drop. A young girl about five years old lay on the ground crying. There was a small pool of blood around her. Kris moved to the edge. “I have to get down there. Help me down.” She got on her hands and knees and grasped an exposed root. She was unable to reach down and was worried about the drop, if she rolled at all she would have a dangerous fall. Sam arrived, and Kris told her what she needed. Sam and the father, lay on the ground and hooked her arms, and lowered her a few feet. They lowered her as far as they could before letting go and Kris dropped the last few feet landing on her feet like a cat.
“Hi, honey. My name is Kris. I’m going to help you, okay?”
“Mommy!”
“It’s okay honey, the lady can help you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Robin.”
“Hi, Robin. Can you lay still? Where do you hurt?”
“Mmmmy arm, mmmmy leg. It’s all bloody, and it hurts so bad!” she stuttered, crying softly.
“Let me look.” The arm was deformed at the wrist, bone protruded through the skin. Blood oozed slowly from the wound. Kris looked at the leg. It was obviously broken, and more blood was pooling around it.
Kris called up to Sam. “Give me the pack. Sir, did you call nine-one-one?”
“Oh God, I forgot!” He replied with panic rising in his voice.
> “I’ll do it.” Sam pulled the small knapsack off her back and dropped it to Kris. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket.
“Tell them she has compound fractures of the right wrist and lower leg. The patient is stable at this time.” After Kris finished taking the child’s pulse, she opened the bag and pulled out a first aid kit. She covered the exposed bone ends, secured the dressings and used a collapsible splint on the arm. She applied direct pressure to the bleeding wound on the child’s leg but would have to wait for help to get the leg splinted. She spoke reassuringly to the child and listened while Sam called, and tried to reassure the mother. Kris looked down at her hands, saw the blood on them, and more blood next to the small leg, and heard a bizarre whizzing noise.
“Doc we got kids out here! Holy cow! They have blood everywhere.” She ran down the hall, stopping over a small girl, her leg was a mess, bone shattered, small ribbons of muscle and flesh somehow hanging on and supporting the mangled foot. Shrapnel peppered her body. She assessed the patient, shouted orders to the corpsman and moved on to the next patient. “Dear God almighty.” She assessed the boys’ wounds. His arms were bundled tightly with blood-soaked rags. She felt along them, peered underneath, his fingers were gone off of one hand, the other hand nearly severed at the wrist. More orders and she moved on to the next patient. Another girl, lying still, her eyes wide open watching, as blood pooled on her tunic. Kris looked at her, took a pulse. She was warm but lifeless. She closed the child’s eyes and had a fleeting thought of a prayer before she moved on to the next injured child. “Good God what happened?”
“Taliban bombed the school while kids were inside. These are the only ones who made it.”
The last child had burns on her arms and face. Kris called out instructions before hurrying off to change. She entered the operating room as the children were brought in for surgery. The sound of sirens filled the air, warning of incoming mortars that created a bizarre whizzing noise the moment before their sickening crack and the earth shook.
“Kris? Kris, do you need some help?”
She looked around, surprised to find herself on rocks, in the middle of a lush green woods. The child at her feet sniffled, and Kris looked at her momentarily confused. Nausea roiled up, sweat beaded on her face and trickled down her back. Despite her confusion, training kicked in, and she took the child’s pulse and spoke reassuringly to her. “Yes. Is anyone coming yet?”
Voices and muffled footfalls could be heard approaching. Soon an EMT was lowered to the outcropping. The EMTs lifted Kris up with a harness and lowered another EMT with a stretcher. They worked quickly on the narrow ledge, barely fitting in the space. After a few minutes, they were all back on the path. Kris finished her report to one of the EMT’s and quickly the crew and the family left.
Kris watched them go and looked down at her bloody hands. Grabbing leaves from a tree she scrubbed her hands vigorously, panting as her heart raced. Sweat stains formed on her shirt. Her hands trembled.
“Kris? What’s wrong?”
“I…I need to go…I need to…” She tried to run, but Sam grabbed her arm.
“No. Wait, just stay still. Sit down.”
“I can’t. I have to…”
Sam wrapped her arms around her. “Stay still. I got you. Everything will be all right. Shh.” She kissed Kris’ head.
The muscle tremors intensified and after several minutes Kris sunk to the ground. She heard Sam’s voice reassuring her. Warm hands stroking along her shoulders. Finally, the tremors stopped and her breathing normalized. Sam offered her a bottle of water, and she gulped it, nearly groaned, and would have sworn that dust and sand was washed from her parched throat.
Sam held Kris’ chin in her palm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay.”
“What happened?”
“I…must have flashed back. With the kid, and the blood. I’m okay, can we go now? I want to get away from here.”
“Sure thing.” Sam reached out offering her hand to Kris.
Kris accepted Sam’s hand and was pulled to her feet. Soft, strong hands cupped her face, fingers brushed over her cheeks. Sam moved forward until their foreheads touched, “You’ll be okay. We’ll get through this. We’ll head back the way we came.”
When they reached the parking lot, Sam opened the door for Kris and helped her inside. Sam slipped in behind the wheel. “It’s late enough that we can check into the hotel. How about if we go get cleaned up and rest a little?”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Kris yawned. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. We should be there in about twenty minutes or so.”
“Good, I could use a shower.” Kris leaned her head against the headrest and fell asleep instantly.
***
Sam glanced at Kris while she drove. She was pale, her hands twitched periodically while she slept, and she groaned as if in pain several times. Kris had clearly had a flashback, the blood or the child had triggered it. Had Kris worked on kids while in Afghanistan? Or was it the blood? But she was a surgeon, surely the blood wouldn’t have triggered it. She would see blood whenever she operated. Sam glanced over again, the afternoon replaying in her mind. She would have to try to get them to bed earlier tonight. In her experience fatigue made the flashbacks more likely to occur.
Pulling into the parking lot, Sam shut off the engine. “Stay here, I’m going to get us checked in.” A few minutes later Sam returned and pulled the car around to the assigned parking spot. She moved the bags into the room, before awakening Kris. “Hey, babe wake up, we’re here. Wake up.” She stroked her hand up Kris’ arm.
Kris awakened slowly, opened her eyes and looked around slightly disoriented. “Wow, I fell asleep. Sorry.”
“For what? You needed to rest. Let’s go inside. I already took the bags in.” Sam took Kris’ hand as she exited the car. They held hands until they got to the room. Before they entered Sam stopped, and looked at Kris, “I…it’s a handicapped room. I didn’t want to be on an upper floor.”
“That’s not a problem. Now open the door. I have to pee.”
While Kris was otherwise occupied Sam hung their clothes in the closet, and drew the curtains closed.
Kris emerged from the bathroom, “Did you see how big that bathroom is? That shower must be big enough for two people. We’ll have to take advantage of that.” She grinned mischievously. “The counter is big enough to lay on. But I’d rather use the bed.”
“Oh really? Feeling a little frisky are you?”
“I had a power nap. I’m good to go.” Kris wriggled her eyebrows.
“Why don’t you find a place you want to try for dinner tonight while I take a shower?”
“Why don’t we take a shower together, and decide later about dinner?”
“That sounds like a much better idea.”
They disrobed quickly, and Sam sat down on the shower seat. Kris watched as Sam removed the prosthesis and passed it to her. She placed it carefully on the counter before rejoining Sam in the shower. Kris pointed the shower head away from them, turning on the water and letting it warm. Sam reached for the grab bars and started to stand, but Kris nudged her back down.
“Sit. Let me do this.” Kris made sure the water was warm enough before directing the spray against Sam’s body. She wet her hair, squeezed shampoo into her hand, and slowly shampooed Sam’s head, massaging the scalp, easing away tension. Her stomach quivered when she felt light strokes across her abdomen and fingers teasingly moving upward. “Behave.” She poured soap gel into her hands stroked her hands across Sam. Working up a rich lather, she palmed Sam’s breasts and stroked her thumbs playfully over nipples that puckered. Her soapy hands slid across her strong back and firm abdomen “Lift your leg.” She stroked her hands down the hard muscles of her leg, gave a gentle twist on her toes. She reached for Barney, pausing when Sam grabbed her hands. Their eyes held, and Kris waited and watched the emotions play out on Sam’s face before she released her hands.
Sam lifted her leg, and Kris gently cradled it with one arm, slicked it with soap and silently marveled at the bulk of the muscle in the leg. She stroked carefully over the end, quietly amazed, with the softness of the skin, and the strange Jello-like feel of the end of the stump. Lowering Sam’s leg she leaned forward, and her hand moved up across inner thigh, and she trailed her fingers through the dark patch of hair. Sam’s ragged intake of breath had her own heart accelerating. Kris leaned over and cupped Sam’s chin before gently tracing along her lips with her own, collecting the water as it fell upon them. Kris straightened and reached for the soap again. “Let me—” When Sam leaned forward suddenly and nipped at her ribs she gasped, and tugged tightly at Sam’s head, “Stop, or you’ll get soap in your eyes. I wouldn’t want to be responsible.”
“Hurry and rinse it out. There’s something I want to do,” Sam demanded.
Kris grabbed the shower hose, nudged Sam’s head back, and carefully rinsed the soap from the front of her head. She rubbed her hands lovingly through Sam’s thick black hair, before nudging her head forward to rinse the soap from the back of her head. Strong arms quickly came around her and pulled her down until she was straddling Sam. Soft kisses quickly intensified, leaving a trail of scorching hot kisses down her neck and across each collarbone.
How the water didn’t turn to steam, she didn’t know. She moaned and clutched at Sam’s head, as her breasts were nuzzled. Warm, open-mouth kisses that teased her nipple until it tightened. Sam stroked her damaged breast with feather light strokes of fingers and followed with her lips. She showed no preference and paid attention to each breast. Kris was overwhelmed with emotion as Sam accepted her, all of her, without hesitation, or complaint. Warm hands caressed and she shuddered as slow, lingering kisses along the sides and tops of her breasts enflamed her. Kris moaned and sighed with pleasure and tangled her fingers in Sam’s hair, pulling her closer. She lowered her mouth to Sam’s head kissing it, ran her face along it, feeling its texture, and smelling the fragrance of the shampoo. Her breast was engorged and heavy, and when she could take no more, she eased Sam away and slipped to her knees in front of her.
