Yours Truly

11 - The Good and the Bad

Bed Two remained unoccupied for several days, until a new soldier was sent there. Charlotte did not know his name, but he had lost both arms and was very quiet all the time. He only nodded or shook his head, barely ate, barely slept-- he was very ominous, but Charlotte knew that losing limbs wasn't just physically painful, it was also mentally and emotionally damaging, and it was for this reason that Charlotte didn't pry him to speak. 

        Since Will wasn't her patient anymore, Charlotte only got to see him briefly in the morning, during her lunch break, and as long as she liked in the evening. What Charlotte didn't like about this new arrangement was that she was never updated on Will's progress, since Doctor Roberts would be expressing them up on the fourth floor rather than on the first. 

        Bed Thirty-One still remained unoccupied, and Charlotte wondered what it'd be like to get used to a completely new soldier occupying the bed rather than Will. She wasn't exactly fond of the idea too much.

        Nevertheless, Charlotte was glad that Will was residing in a wing where he'd be able to talk more to different people and play board games. Whenever she visited him, he was always sitting on his bed, holding either Charlotte's red flower hairpin or a brown wooden rosary. Sometimes, she'd walk in on him praying. Sometimes, she'd walk in on him staring absently into empty space. Sometimes, she'd walk in on him eating whilst reading a novel. Other times, he'd be talking to the soldier in the bed next to his. 

        "... yeah, a lot better," Will was saying to the soldier in the bed next to his as Charlotte approached. "Oh, hi, Lottie. Lottie, this is Jerome Jon Huston. Jay, this is my sweetheart Charlotte Truly." 

        Charlotte reached forward to shake hands with Jerome, a thin man with taut white skin, a patch of hair grazed from the top of his head and bony fingers. He didn't have any missing limbs or bandages in sight, leaving Charlotte to wonder what he was hospitalized for. 

        "Malaria, ma'am," Jerome said dryly, as if reading Charlotte's mind. "Got a case of malaria. Oh, and you can call me Jay. Will's been talking about you nonstop, driving the rest of us bonkers." He rolled his eyes, but Charlotte caught a hint of playfulness in it. 

        Charlotte chuckled. "Has he?" 

        "Mhm," Jay sighed. "Hold on--" Jay reached around his bed, grabbed a red bucket and vomited into it. After retching into the bucket for nearly ten minutes, Jay put it down and calmly looked at Will and Charlotte as if nothing had happened. 

        "Oh, that happens a lot," Jay said bluntly. "I'm from California. Never thought I'd even get malaria, but... whaddaya know?" He smiled a sarcastic, dispirited smile. "I can't wait until I die." He chortled placidly.

        Charlotte's eyes widened in alarm. She locked a gaze with Will, who looked unsurprised. His expression seemed to say 'yeah, this happens a lot.' He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Er..." 

        Jay laughed mirthlessly. "Well, someone say something! By all means, don't be afraid to hurt my feelings! I've got none! I'm just one soldier among millions. I'm nothing but a tiny little fragment in a full-blown war machine. Come on, say something, Charlotte. Will." 

        "I'm sorry you feel that way," Charlotte said quietly. "But, please, Jay... you're not just a tiny little fragment in a full-blown war machine--" 

        "Yes," Jay said calmly. "Yes, Charlotte, yes I am." He bitterly began to cough. "I'm a draftee. I considered fleeing to Canada, you know. Not seriously. I just wondered what'd happen."