The Colonel's Daughter (4 page)

“Go ahead make fun of me.” With her arms still crossed, her body stiffened.

“I’m not going to make fun of that. It can happen to anybody.” He leaped onto the sidewalk.

“Well obviously it can’t happen to you. Didn’t you just turn on your car from your key ring?”

He smiled as she looked at his dark eyes that were accentuated by thick black eyebrows and still loathing the first words he ever said to her, she thought,
I can’t stand this guy and
w
hy does he make me so nervous?

“Did you check all your doors? It looks like the passenger door is unlocked. I will back up my car and you can get your keys.”

“Thank you.” She uncrossed her arms and extended her right hand. “I’m Abigail.”

“Nice to meet you, Abigail, I’m Maurice.” He gave the back of her hand a peck. Then he swaggered towards his driver’s door and made his way into the vehicle positioning his fit body on the leather seat. He accelerated his sports car coming within inches of the dark blue pickup truck parked along the curb.

Leaning against the exterior driver mirror of the pickup truck, Dallas slid on his sunglasses and studied Abby as she leaned into her passenger’s seat and pulled the keys out of the ignition. The beauty he had fantasized about in the desert was before his eyes, which restricted all rational thought. He trotted towards her.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

She fidgeted with her keys, “Yeah I’m fine.”

“Can you believe the nerve of that guy parking like that?”

“Yeah,” she smiled then squinted. “I can’t believe your nerve wearing that hat.”

“What’s wrong with it? I’m a die-hard fan.” He said.

“Not that I’m a big football fan or anything but then why are you here in the U?”

“Not by choice.” He tightened his hat.

“You look familiar.” She stared. “Have I seen you before?”

His heart pounded, finding it more difficult to control his breathing than if he had been pointing his sniper rifle during a firefight within close enemy range. “No ma’am.”

“I guess it…would be a lot of fun to take you to a football game just to see everybody’s reaction when you show up with your face all painted in Longhorn colors.” She laughed.

He removed his sunglasses and got close enough to open the driver door for her. “I’m glad I amuse you. And you’re right I would definitely paint my face.”

“Then we have a date.”

“Wow, ok. Not sure what I did but I’m glad it worked.” He gave her a dimpled smile.

“It’s not really football season so—”

“Oh,” placing a hand over his heart, “You’re blowing me off.”

Abby lowered her head and raising only her eyes, “If you’re still around during football season—”

“How about you let me take you to lunch right now?” He looked at his watch. “You don’t have another class ‘til four…”

Arching her eyebrows, “How do you know I don’t have another class until four?”

“I uh…”

She quickly got into her car. “I really have to go. It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait there’s something I have to tell you.”

She shut the car door and crossed her arms.

“Look, gimme a chance to explain, let me take you to lunch.”

She rolled down her window. “If you have something to say, say it right here.”

“I know who you are.” He lifted his cap and ran a hand over his crew cut. “You’re Abigail Johnston, the daughter of my hero, Colonel James Johnston.”

She leaned forward. “You know my father?”

He stood at attention. “I made him a promise to him. And here I am.”

“When did you talk to my father?”

A crowd of students walked across the sidewalk.

“We really should talk somewhere else. Will you let me take you to lunch now, please, Abby?”

She smiled in agreement then added, “Are you up for some university cafeteria food?”

“You’re really trying to kill me, woman.” He held opened the driver’s door with his eyes fixed on her.

“You’re not gonna wear your silly cap, are you?”

“There’s no way I’m taking it off.”

“Great,” she rolled her eyes.

Walking towards the cafeteria, Dallas regained higher brain function and decided to refocus once again on his mission.

“Look,” waiving her arm in the air, “I’m a big girl I can take care of myself. I don’t know what my father told you but I don’t need you stalking me.”

“I promised your dad I would keep you safe and I’m not going to break that promise.”

“So I guess there’s no changing your mind?”

“No ma’am.”

“Wanna split a foot long sub?”

“Depends on what you’re getting.”

“Meatball of course,” she puckered her lips.

“My kind of girl,” Dallas gave her a dimpled smile.
In every way
, he thought.

“So what’s your name anyway?”

“Brian…Lieutenant Brian Star.” He extended his hand. “My friends call me Dallas.”

“Nice to meet you, Dallas,” Her handshake lingered as she grazed his calloused fingers. “I guess…you already know who I am.”

He chuckled.

* * * * *

On a hospital bed in Tampa, Florida, Captain Javi Santos exhaled a painful sigh as he raised his upper body using only the strength of his arms. The leg injury alone, a broken leg in a cylinder cast, would have never slowed down the highly skilled Green Beret, and the deep gash on his side caused by shrapnel although a nuisance was still manageable. It was the skull fracture that left him the most vulnerable, TBI (Traumatic Head Injury) as it read on his chart.

Javi brought a hand to his brow feeling the bandage firmly wrapped around his tanned baldhead. He whispered for a drink.

Picking up a large cup of ice water in one hand and the straw with the other, Jasmine leaned over the hospital bed and helped him sip. Jasmine Johnston, a civilian working for the United States Army Human Resources Command, had been born and raised in Florida and married right out of high school. The memory of her husband, Cpl. Donald Simcox, who had been killed in Afghanistan, motivated her to continue working as she visited many wounded soldiers throughout her three years at the US Army Hospital in Tampa, Florida.

She continued her questioning. “Is there an emergency phone number I can write on the forms? If it’s not the number to a family member, then maybe you have a friend we can contact. It seems the information on your profile has been kept confidential by your unit for quite some time and…well it’s…outdated.” She put the cup down and sifted through a stack of papers bound together inside a legal size file folder. “After going through all of this, I don’t see a next of kin or any emergency contact for you, Captain.”

Dazed, Javi recounted a lucid dream. “My mother called out a direct order. Javier, you need to take care of that cat! She picked up her keys and left for work. I was only ten years old and she left me there alone…except for the dying cat. I could hear the wailing from behind the gas stove in the kitchen.”

“Captain Santos,” Jasmine cleared her throat. “I really need to focus on getting your paperwork filled out.”

“Please, call me Javi.” He signaled for more ice water. “Tell me Ms. Uh—” he paused and waited for Jasmine to fill in the blank.

“JJ,” Jasmine fidgeted with her pen. “It stands for Jasmine Johnston.”

“Tell me JJ, would you leave your ten year old son home alone to get rid of a dying cat, then have him walk a mile in the snow to get to school on time?”

Jasmine thought about her own little girl. She hesitated and wondered what she could say to this patient to get him to cooperate.

“Are you talking about your mother? Is she still alive?”

“I don’t know if she is still alive or not. I don’t remember.”

Jasmine tucked a fallen strand of her blond hair behind her ear and continued to shuffle through the papers.

“It says here you were born in Long Island, New York. Is that right?”

“It must be right if it is written there on your paperwork. I don’t remember Long Island. The dream I had was definitely Brooklyn.” He exhaled slowly. “I remember hanging out on a sixth floor fire escape. The apartment building was…in Brooklyn...but I don’t think any of this is going to help you.”

“I understand, Javi. Trying to remember details can be very frustrating.”

“No offense but JJ sounds a little masculine for such nice girl. I just had a flashback of a soldier named JJ in my battalion.” Javi squinted. “He was so ugly he could make an onion cry. How about I call you Jasmine?”

“You can call me Jasmine if you prefer. But listen, Javi please, I really need you to cooperate.”

A dark skinned, full figured female nurse named Dorothea walked into the hospital room and opened the privacy curtain. “Good morning! How are you doin’ today, papi? I know you remember your favorite nurse.”

“Yes I do, Dorothea. I can’t forget the woman with the meds.” Javi revealed his heart-splitting crooked smile.

“Let’s take a look at this side wound. I’m going to have to clean it up and change that bandage. I’ll be done in no time...not so sure I’ll still be your favorite nurse after this.” Dorothea said snapping on a rubber glove.

Javi groaned at the piercing pain.

Jasmine clenched the file folder to her chest and watched in horror as, what looked like blood and water, oozed down the side of his rib cage.

“I can come back tomorrow and get this information, Captain Santos.”

Javi buried his face in the pillow unable to hold back the groans.

“Why don’t you tell Jasmine that funny story you told me.” Diverting his attention, Dorothea’s voice sounded as if she were speaking to a child. “You know that story…”

Jasmine extended her arm and gently took hold of the Captain’s calloused hand. She remembered not being able to soothe her husband’s pain when he was so brutally killed in the war. But she had a chance to help Javi and her heart warmed with compassion. She slid the guest chair and sat close to his bed. “I’ve never been to New York.” She spoke softly thinking of ways to distract him. “I’ve never seen snow.” She giggled and brought her hand to her mouth. “I used to think snow was just frozen rain.”

Dorothea unrolled the medical tape. “The worst part’s over now. Just getting you a new bandage and you’ll be all set.”

Javi spoke nonchalantly as if ignoring his pain. “Snow is pretty cool. I remember standing out on the stoop. I would make a fist and blow on my skin to dry it out.” He brought Jasmine’s hand closer to demonstrate and blew over her soft skin. “The snowflake would fall on my fist and I would catch a glimpse of the tiny design just before it melted.”

Dorothea removed the latex gloves. “Honey, all I remember is pouring salt all over my driveway and praying my car would start after scraping off all that snow. I am so glad I live in Florida!”

Jasmine slowly released her hand and noticed his eyes fixed on her. “I have a question. I hope this doesn’t upset you.” Jasmine found herself stalling. “Whatever happened to the cat from your dream?”

Javi turned his gaze away. “Division Avenue. That’s where I lived, on Division Avenue, on the sixth floor.”

Jasmine jotted down Division Ave then fidgeted with her pen and waited for Javi to continue.

“She was my cat, slept at the foot of my bed. It was up to me to care for her and care for myself for that matter. My mother was drunk all the time. Then one day she crawled behind the gas stove to die. I didn’t know what to do. I was a kid.” Javi welled up with tears.

“How did you get the cat out?” Jasmine bit her lip.

Dorothea interjected, “You’re goin’ to start seein’ more than cats once you take these, darling,” and handed him two pills.

Jasmine passed the ice water then Dorothea closed the privacy curtain and exited the hospital room.

Javi continued, “I picked up a broom and tried to shoo her out. She wouldn’t budge. I pulled the stove as much as I could and climbed it. Then I bent over the back of the oven but as I tried to reach her, she kept clawing at me. I poked her with the broom to get her out of there and she jumped out and came at me as if attacking me. I was so scared. I swung the broom and sent her flying across the room. I killed it…I killed my own cat.” He paused to reflect on his own words as a stream of tears reached his pillow.

“You shouldn’t be burdened with the guilt of what you did to your cat. You were ten years old. If anything, you acted in self defense.”

* * * * *

The orange glow of the sunrise pierced the hospital room window. Little hands knocked on the already open hospital room door. Emerging beneath the privacy curtain was a pair of untied size three sneakers.

Suddenly a baseball hit the ground and rolled across the floor. Javi grunted as he twisted his body to catch a glimpse of the ball that was stuck underneath the hospital bed. “You’re going to have to come over here and get your ball. I’m afraid I can’t get up that easily.” Javi pulled himself upright on the bed.