Ageless War

Five || Gohl's Starry Night

Joseph Gohl

Eagle County, Colorado

Monday, January 27th, 1944

1:07am

Was this a good idea? If I was being honest with myself, the answer was: no, definitely not. Good thing I was not in the business of being honest with myself. I had it all planned out, ever since the P-squared incident. It could work. No, it had to work.

I carefully peeled the covers off of my body and made my way down the ladder, skipping the last prong. My bare feet hit the cool cement with force before I slipped on my socks and slippers, wrapping a huge, wool coat around my frame in an attempt to retain some of my body heat.

The force of the darkness was crushing with no city lights to slice through it; I could barely see my hand in front of my face let alone know where to place my feet. So I stumbled blindly through the shadows, drawing up a mental map of the room to remember where I put the candle. I stepped into the hole that was right in front of one of the desks next to the door, barely able to keep myself from tripping. I wondered why no one would tell me how that hole got there; I mean, I had my guesses. Someone probably dropped something heavy, I mused, but no matter how hard I searched my mind I couldn't think of anything that would cause such a massive dent.

I was getting off track.

Focus, I told myself as I continued to fumble around the desk, one foot in the enormous crater, until I found the candle. I lit it quietly, happy to see the room light up with an orange glow. I could see a bit better. Not well, but better.

Do it, do it, do it.

It's not a big deal, man, just do it.

God, you're a wimp.

I sighed with resentment at my hesitation. Despite this, I walked back over to our bunk, minding the gap as I did so. Wouldn't want to fall into his bed would I?

For the love of God, focus you idiot.

I watched the rise and fall of chest, bathed in an orange and yellow glow. His breathing was soft, so soft I could barely hear it. But regardless the fact that he had no covers or a shirt on and it was like Antarctica outside, his forehead was covered with thin sheen of sweat, his pillow slightly damp from where his head had rested a few minutes ago. He was speaking softly in his sleep, saying the word 'no' over and over again. I suddenly realized whatever he was dreaming about was not good.

I advanced slowly, placing a hand on his arm. "Ira. Ira wake up."

His eyes shot open with alarm and his other hand, striking like a snake, grabbed my wrist firmly, but he let go just as quickly as he realized it was me, guilt flashing across his face.

"Joseph? Jesus what are you doing up, it's like midnight." He reached up and wiped the sweat off his brow, an action that I doubted was a conscious one. This must've happened a lot for it to be second nature upon waking up.

After a quick glance at the clock, I corrected him, "Actually is one-oh-nine."

He smiled directly at me, somehow undeterred by the incredible lack of light in the windowless room. I smiled back. We looked at each other for a few seconds that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. I never wanted to take my eyes away.

Eventually, he sat up and settled his feet into his own pair of slippers, breaking our eye contact. As much as I wished he would have kept his eyes locked with mine, I know that it was probably for the best that he looked away. Self control was not one of my very limited number of virtues.