Page 9 of Sol
“I’m pretty sure she knows,” I’d said, thinking of the kiss in the pizzaparlor.
“I should give you her email. You could messageher.”
“Okay. But I’m gonna leave her alone. This is just in case of emergency. She needs to be able to go wherever she’s gonna go. Especially if I’m stuck in BFE for the next fouryears.”
“True.”
Still, he’d managed to show me her emails and selfies whenever she sent them, and I was copied on some emails to and from her. I took a few pictures with him, mostly in full gear—helmet, sunglasses, everything—for him to send to her. Not sure she could tell which one was me other than the name on my chest, but it did feel like I tried to reachout.
“Need anything, Trent?” my mom called, pulling me back to thepresent.
“No, thanks,” although that was a goddamn lie. I just didn’t need anything she could giveme.
She paused in the doorway. “Son. Are youokay?”
I shook my head. “Not really. I have to tell her,Mom.”
“I know.” Her downcast eyes lifted up to my face. “Those two soldiers gave me the scare of my life when they came up the front walkway. The moment they said the name, Degan Christopher Anderson, I felt this horrible heartbreak, even though I was so grateful it wasn’t you.” She daubed at her eyes. “Do what you need to do. Take the time you need. Let me know how I canhelp.”
“Thanks,Mom.”
I stretched my jean-clad legs and pulled out my tattered wallet for daily inventory, placing each item carefully on thedesktop.
1- Common Access Card,U.S. ArmedForces
1 - California driver’slicense
1 - USAA debitcard
1 - USAA creditcard
1 -Marie Thrash Therapybusiness card,unused
2 - Trojan MAGNUM condoms,expired
$73.00 in cash,and
1 -Photograph.
Fingering the photograph,I studied the people in it, focusing on Dani and her wide, blue, kohl-rimmed eyes. Her mess of tangled hair. Thatsmile.
I’d carried that picture for so many years now that the corners had rounded and the paper was starting to separate into layers, so I’d taped up the back. It had been everywhere withme.
I wished I’d already been able to tell her. Then this misery would beover.
Everything went back into my wallet, and my wallet went back in my pocket. I straightened the two letters on my desktop and turned to my computer. Entering her name in my laptop, I hit search and waited for the results. The laptop held me in its spell, a cyber-prison of torture. A digital asshole. I hated searching. I wanted todosomething.
I got back a list of results that didn’t help. Places in the world she’d been months or years ago. Not places she was now. Once again, I’d fallen down short. I pulled out a pack of fruit punch Mentos and chewed one while Iscrolled.
An email from the VA counselor popped up. Blah blah blah, I needed to inform her of my future plans, blah blahblah.
I contemplated my response. My future plans were to find Dani, tell her that her brother died, and take care of her, keeping her safe for the rest of herlife.
Simple.
But that wasn’t what the VA wanted to know. They wanted to know about signs of fucking PTSD and if I was going tocounseling.
I had better things todo.
