The Western Front

Chapter Six...

     In the days that followed my scare with hypothermia, I have yet to have the pleasure of seeing my mother's face in my meager hospital room. Our argument has definitely put a tension in our relationship that hadn't been there before. When we get into an argument, I usually just find a way to calm her down and tell her we will talk about it later, but what happened exactly one week ago today, was something completely out of the ordinary. My plans for service have been the topic of discussion for far too long and I had just had enough and put my foot down. As the discussions kept piling up, I became more and more assertive that I would, in fact, join the military as soon as I possibly can.

     Bonnie has been spending most of her time next to my bed despite my desperate attempts to get her to at least go home and get some food that's at least from somewhere that's not the hospital cafeteria. I can barely keep that stuff down, which is saying something considering that I can eat pretty much anything. During one of our bickering arguments about her eating habits, she finally agreed to at least go home to change her clothes and shower.

     I looked out the window to see what was going on, and the sign sitting outside the window stared at me almost mocking me. It was a sign of Uncle Sam pointing at me telling me that he wanted me for the military. If only he knew how much I wanted to leave this hell hole and get to the front lines. As I looked at Uncle Sam closer and closer, his eyes started to take a more mean time rather than a patriotic one. He was judging me for not getting out and joining. I averted my gaze and shook my head to try and rid myself of the vision.

     I closed my eyes, but it didn't offer much solace. All I could see was my father's death on an infinite replay forever haunting me. The bright light and the screams of the other men on board. The terrified squad leader. The loud buzzing of the Japanese bombers and the smell of the burning metal. I could feel the heat of the fires that wouldn't dissipate. I could touch the crisp uniforms of the men my father so desperately tried to save. I didn't know I was crying until I opened my eyes and Bonnie was sitting next to me wiping a tear from my cheek.

"What's wrong, Michael?" She asked me stroking my cheek with her thumb.

"I can't get it out of my head. It just keeps going over and over again and I can't stop it," I told her honestly. She moved to put her feet on the bed and laid her head in the crook of my neck. She placed her hand on my chest, right over my heart. We sat like that in silence for a few minutes before Lily walked into my room to give me a routine check up.

"How are we feeling today Mr. Harvey?" She asked with her signature smile.

"I'm doing mighty fine today. When am I getting out of here?" I desperately asked. I needed to get out and stretch my legs.

"That's exactly what I'm in here for! Doc says you're good to go and all I need from you is a signature and you can walk on outta here!" She replied happily. She handed me a clipboard full of forms to sign and I took them quickly so I could finally get out of here. I've looked at each wall one too many times that I had time to count each stripe of pale blue. Thirteen stripes per wall. I've looked at Uncle Sam one too many times. He points at me more with more disappointment each day, and I mentally can't handle it anymore. I quickly signed all the necessary papers to get me the hell out of here and turned to Bonnie.

"Is my mom here or..." I started to ask but trailed off as soon as I figured out the answer. She sighed and shook her head minutely.

"Do you want to go?" She asked instead of asking my question.

"Yeah," I replied. I turned on my bed to a sitting position and let the balls of my feet touch the cool tile underneath. I pushed myself up to a shaky standing position and smiled at Lillian and Bonnie. They both reciprocated my smile. Bonnie reached for a bag that she had on a chair, and handed it to me. I looked inside and saw a white t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a new pair of black Converse. I turned to her.

"You bought me a new pair?" I asked her with a broad smile.

"I thought you'd want a new pair since you lost the ones at the pond," She said and looked to her feet with a blush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

"Thank you so much, baby. This means so much to me," I leaned down and kissed her forehead. I turned to go to the bathroom with my bag and I heard a loud laugh, "Bonnie, you know you love to look at my ass," I said confidently and strutted into the bathroom. She laughed again, but this time, I laughed with her.

     I started getting dressed and I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in about four days. My hair was flat to my forehead and my face looked somewhat sunken in. I haven't told Bonnie, but I refused to eat the food here, so I haven't actually eaten anything substantial since that breakfast my mother made me the day I fell in the pond. All I've been eating is Jell-O and coffee. I dug around in the bag and miraculously found my comb and grease. I didn't even question that Bonnie knew to put them in there. Only my mother, sister and Bonnie have ever actually seen my hair flat. It's kind of a joke around the house now. I've been asked to leave it down for school one day to see if anyone will actually recognize me, but since my pompadour is a staple hairstyle, it wouldn't feel right.

     I finish putting my hair up and flash a smile in the mirror before turning to walk out the door. Bonnie turned to me and smiled. She stretched out her hand to me, and I took it gladly. We started to walk out, but I stopped and turned to Lillian. I didn't say anything; I just hugged her. Somehow she was able to keep me, Bonnie, and herself sane. I could sometimes overhear Bonnie talking to Lily and confessing her concerns for me and my desperate need to go to the military. Lily would always be the listener and she always had a piece of advice to give Bonnie. I never tell Bonnie about the fact that I can hear her talking about me because I know she has enough on her plate right now especially with my mother. Knowing how my mother is when she gets mad, Bonnie is probably acting like a diplomat slash peacekeeper between me and my mother. Lily and I finally let go of each other, and I take Bonnie's hand in mine and we walk out the door of my room into the hallway. We make our way out to the car and she opens the passenger door for me to get in.

"Bonnie, I can drive," I told her.

"I know. But I want to," She smiles at me and gestures me into the seat once again, but this time, I comply. She runs around the front of the car and sits into the drivers seat and looks at me with a kind of wild smile.

"Shall we, my prince?" She asks me in a posh accent.

"We shall, my princess," I reply leaning over to lightly kiss her lips.