Page 5 of Hunting the Truth
Dr. Meyers, a tall man with thick glasses and a goatee, came into the room and took a seat. Maya liked Dr. Meyers. He understood her and the other veterans because he’d served himself. He came from a military family starting with his grandfather, who was a Tuskegee Airman, and had served in Desert Storm and Iraq. When he got out of the military, he said he’d realized that helping other veterans recover from their traumas helped him as well. Maya didn’t know how he did it, but she knew he cared.
“Morning,” Dr. Meyers said.
Some of the others in the group mumbled an answer. A few veterans were talkative, but most, like Maya, preferred to stay quiet. Dr. Meyers never seemed to mind or push any of them.
“Let’s talk about something that keeps troubling you and we’ll see how we might be able to help,” Dr. Meyers said. “I know this can be difficult, but it’s important to share with the group so we can support you through it. We’ve all seen difficult things. It’s part of being a combat soldier. Or maybe there’s something that’s happened in civilian life. Whatever it is, this is a safe place to share. Who wants to go first?”
There was silence, and then an older gentleman spoke up. Gray haired, he was about the age of Pops and, like Pops, had served in Vietnam toward the end of the war.
“I have this event that haunts me,” the man started. He paused for a second. “I was out on patrol with my unit. We’d all smoked a shitload of weed just trying to survive each day. Ya know?”
Several people murmured in response. Maya stayed quiet. Alcohol was her form of weed, but she knew plenty of soldiers who had smoked it. She didn’t judge—they all had to deal somehow.
“So, it was a pretty normal patrol,” the man continued. “We came to this village we suspected were harboring Viet Cong and the next thing we knew, we were being shot at. The guy next to me, his head exploded. There was no chance of saving him. I went nuts. I pulled the trigger ’til the clip was out. Then it was silent. It was all over as quick as it started. Then I heard this sobbing. It was a little kid. A girl. She was hiding from us.”
Maya took a deep breath. Her chest tightened. She fought to breathe. Dr. Meyers was saying something back to the man, but she couldn’t hear.
I’d hidden.
She’d been the only witness. Why couldn’t she remember more details from that night? Her muscles tightened like when she was hiding in the closet. She could taste the mac and cheese and smell...smoke.
She closed her eyes. Dr. Meyers was saying something, but if she could keep remembering, she could bring a killer to justice. Memories started snapping together like a jigsaw puzzle.
Her mom had turned around and grabbed Maya by the shoulders. “You are the best at hide-and-seek. Do it now and don’t let the bad people find you.”
“What? Is the scary man back? Should I call Pops?”
“Just hide. Promise me you’ll stay where they can’t find you.”
“Okay.” Tears had streamed down Maya’s face.
“I love you, baby. I love you.” Maya’s mom gave her a big hug and then pushed her away. “Go. Now.”
Maya turned and ran down the hallway. She had a secret place where her mom had never found her when they played—the closet. There were lots of items in the back that Maya could slip behind, including jackets and a vacuum big enough to conceal her feet and legs. She squeezed herself into the small space. She thought she could hear Gunner barking again outside.
Did the bad man come back? If Maya could get to a phone, she could call Pops. But there was no way she could get to the phone without leaving the closet and being in plain view. If there was one thing she’d learned from being the best at hide-and-seek, it was that you never took the risk of being seen.
She had heard her mother yelling, so she curled up in a ball against the closet wall, clenching her fists and holding back sobs. She had been so scared, but her mom had told her to hide.
BANG.
Maya’s breathing quickened. She gulped rapid, shallow breaths. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans, struggling to keep remembering.
“Maya? Maya? Are you okay?” Dr. Meyers’s voice interrupted her memory as Kendra nudged her. Maya found herself back in the support group room. Everyone stared at her.
“Uh. Yeah...yeah, I’m good.”
“Is there anything you want to share with the group?”
“I just... I don’t know.”
“It’s okay, Maya. You don’t have to go until you’re ready.”
Maya’s heart pounded. She’d never really shared with the group, but maybe this was a time to do it. Maybe if she opened up, some more memories would come back to her. Memories that would help her nail the people responsible for killing her mother and Nana.
“I’m ready,” Maya heard herself saying. She could tell by the expression on Dr. Meyers’s face, he was surprised but also pleased.
The words spilled out. Maya wanted to stop them, but she couldn’t. She told the group about the night her mother died. How she hid. How she was the only witness, and how she was remembering things. In pieces, like snapshots.
