A Longer War 59

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CHAPTER 59
I stepped aside to let people through, and Ashley handed me a couple of bottles.

“Mr Barker, this is my fiancée Stacey”

“How do, lass. Come on in. Ashley, go through to front room”

“Not just yet, Mr Barker. Got to get something from bus”

He was back in a few seconds with a folding wheelchair, and I understood. I shut the door and led them through, Ashley snapping the chair open as Pete gratefully lowered his son into it. The boy was gaunt, his vitality seeming to have vanished—I couldn’t help it, and looked down at where his leg should have been. He forced a grin onto his face.

“Cheaper to get legless now, Mr Barker”

I made a similar attempt at laughing, but it failed, and so we settled ourselves round the table and tried to make the best of the dinner. The lad did seem to perk up when it was brought out, and I will admit that the girls had indeed done us proud. I usually find turkey too dry, needing a lot of gravy, but Val had used some trick with the stuffing and it was almost as juicy as chicken. I almost thought ‘goose’, but that would always bring Wilf to mind, with a home-made oven and a farmer lying still and cold with his family. Not now, not today.

Crackers and hats, and dreadful jokes. Pigs in blankets and roast potatoes, carrots and parsnips; mashed swede, sprouts, little Yorkshire puddings from one of those dimpled trays; proper gravy. Andy carved for us while Ashley was set to pouring some ales and soft drinks. By the time Her Majesty had spoken, we were ready for the pud. Nothing elaborate, just a proper Christmas pudding with decent custard. I was surprised at how much young Peter managed to get down, and I realised he had some of the same strength his father had shown.

The other two young lads cleared away the clutter while Val and Stacey sorted out some teas. I gave a shove to our settee, making room for the wheelchair, and I am afraid we didn’t talk much after that. Perhaps out of respect for a wounded soldier, perhaps out of fear of opening less visible wounds, we sat as comfortably as we could manage and watched the traditional Christmas James Bond film. Yes, it was violent. Yes, it had guns and explosions, but it was all so two-dimensional and unreal that it didn’t intrude or jar. I found myself watching the wounded soldier rather than the small screen, and quickly realised most of the others were doing the same and trying not to show it.

“Dad…?”

“Son? Oh. Gerald, where’s, you know?”

“Top of stairs on right, Pete. Sorry, son!”

His dad stood and stretched his back, before once more cradling his son ready for the climb up to our loo. Once he was out of the room, Ashley turned to me.

“This is sort of thing you were on about on trip, intit?”

I nodded. “Aye, son. But not like in films, you see now? Wounds don’t come with a bandage and a sling, not way wars are now. Lad was lucky. Might not think so now, but, well. Lucky”

Andy nodded in turn. “Aye. Like, I watch war films, like, and there were that big one, black and white. Longest Day? All cheering and running off beach. Then there were that Spielberg one, supposed to be same place, and, well. Couldn’t watch that one twice”

He shook his head, then turned to me. “You were there, weren’t you?”

“Aye, son. It’s where I went with Ashley here. Not on first day, like”

Still on a day when bodies were lined up like the Christmas trees in the lumber yard, though.

Ashley gave a laugh entirely devoid of mirth. “Aye, lad, not there now, but still IS there, if you get what I mean. And the people, well, they don’t forget either”

Susie was also trying, but the joy wasn’t within her reach. “Belgian village we were at, and they still remembered Gerald here!”

Ashley turned to the girl settled onto his lap. “Like I told you, Stace. They treated us right well. Things I learned on that trip; lot of it not nice, not for today, like. Hop off; best go and see if boss is OK—oh, no. That’s him on step. So, Andy? Where you two looking at living when you get hitched?”

Father and son came back through the door just as Stacey asked loudly “You two getting wed?”

Young Pete chuckled, and it did sound genuine, but there were still shadows under his cheekbones and behind his eyes.

“Wed? That’s quick!”

Susie sat up straighter, taking a quick look at her mother’s open mouth. “It’s also news to me, Ashley. Who told you that?”

The lad was blushing now. “Nobody! I just, well, the two of you, aye? “

Stacey herself was giggling. “So you can be all sensitive and sweet, love, pick up on emotions and moods, like, as long as it doesn’t concern me?”

Susie took my hand. “There’s more to my life than Andy, you know. In fact, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for Gerald. Now, among more things than I can count, more than I need to mention here, this man gave me a home. Two, if you count how he got Mam and me talking again. Besides, any talk of weddings, well, few things in way, like. Need to get them sorted first”

Stacey was nodding. “No offence, like, Susie, but all of us know, well, what you are, so, yeah”

I had seen that face before, heard that voice, and the temperature dropped a few degrees as Susie replied.

“Oh? And what am I then, Stacey?”

The girl looked at her fiancé, who nodded, and she turned back to Susie.

“Not what you think, girl. Look, people talk, aye, gossip, rubbish mostly. Like Mam and Hal, my step-dad. Couldn’t get wed right off cause she were still married to Dad, had to get decree absolute thing, divorce. That were what I meant, nowt more. Law says you can’t wed till you tick a box. Nowt to do with, you know. Far as I’m concerned you’re a woman”

Susie wasn’t quite satisfied. “But what makes you think we’re getting wed?”

Valerie burst out laughing. “Oh for God’s sake, lass, the way you two moon around each other, what else is anyone to think? Andy, am I wrong?”

Seven pairs of eyes were now on one blushing lad, and he was lost for words. Susie grinned.

“You have something you wanted to ask, Andrew?”

His own eyes swept the room, finding no rescue. Finally, he sighed.

“That were a bloody daft bet lads had with me, and I’ll always feel guilty about it”

Susie purred. “You better had, Andy”

“Aye, but how things start is one thing, and where they go, how they end up, that’s important bit. I think… No. I know where I’d like to end up, so, well, aye. Will you?”

The purr was gone now, as realisation was hitting her. “Will I what, Andy? Love?”

“Just, well, not good with words, am I, and this isn’t how I thought, or where, or, hell. Just, will you? I know there’s stuff that you need doing, but Stacey’s right. It’s a tick in the box just like getting divorced is, that’s what it is to me, so, well, will you?”

She was whispering now. “Will I what? Just say it”

He slumped, and looked down, bright red. “Will you marry us? When you can, like. Properly”

I swear I will never understand women, because she simply blurted out a strangled “Yes!” before bolting for the kitchen, quickly followed by both her mother and Stacey. Someone started to laugh, and then applaud, and it was young Pete.

“Dear me! There was me, thinking I was going to be the death and gloom of the party, spoil everyone’s day, and we have a floor show! Andy, congratulations! Come over here so I can shake your hand!”

The poor lad had to do the round of us men, and Ashley then started to laugh.

“Really bad timing, pal. Good luck with trying to fit in an engagement party at this time of year. What are your mates going to say?”

The young man looked at each of us in turn. “You know something? I don’t give a shit. It were all a big joke, like. There’s the shemale, they said, the shim, that tranny, bet you a tenner you can’t get it to go out with you, and that were word, like: ‘it’. And I thought aye, tenner’s a tenner, but that were then, and this is now, and I know who she is, and I bloody well know WHAT she is, and that’s sweetest lass I’ve ever met. And you, Mr Barker”

“Gerald”

“No, not for now. Susie worships you, you know that? She’s not told me it all, but I’ve got an idea of it, so I’ll put it this way: would you give your blessing to me and her getting wed?”

So of course I did, and we celebrated as friends and family, and it was eleven before they were all heading off. Pete got his son settled in the bus before coming back to the door to shake my hand.

“Thanks, mate. That is the best he’s been since, well, you know. That’s life returning to him, and it’s down to you and your family. No, shush. If you can’t see who they are you’re blind. So get some rest, and, well, we’ll be there for Susie and Andy when the day comes. Good night, my friend. Happy Christmas, and the best of new years”

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Comments

a proposal at last!

giggles. wonderful!

DogSig.png

good

good

Confused

Had to go back and reconnect, felt like I'd missed something. I had, but that prompted a bit of confusion. So I can get it straight in my head, young Peter lost his right leg, fairly high up, making a prosthesis a problem. I know most amputees here get fitted with something before going home. Then they get some up-to-date hardware generally on the VA's dime. Things are expensive for regular purchase, like $50 to 100,000 at a crack. But they at least return a semblance of a normal life.

Arm amputations are much more difficult, the prosthetics give very little functionality. You see stuff on TV how all this research is going to help people like the veterans, then they show some rig with bundles of cables and sensors stuck to the subject's head, and they tell how the test unit cost tens of millions of dollars. Then you know that maybe the next generation might get something useful but for now its the dummy's hand. That's what a Vietnam vet friend of mine called it. He finally threw his in the trash and started getting the right sleeve on everything shortened.

That's the way it seems to go. The military makes great promises, but in reality the VA delivers only a small percent of that. Thank you for you service, here's your medal. Good Bye.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Amputation

Can't send you a message. Plot spoilers...

Sorry cyclist

Had a major depressive attack Friday and I just closed all the doors and shut all the windows and told the world to fuck off. I enabled pms again sorry, so fire when ready Gridley!


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Payback

"Et tu, Brute?"


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

prothetics

Have you seen the show where 3-D printers are making artificial arms and hands ? FANTASTIC

Karen

Yes!

Still pretty much prototype stage, but I did see a news thing about two high school students that devised and fabricated a hand for a young child. Insurance wouldn't cover one or something like that. That's what really sucks about having a child that needs a prosthesis, they outgrow them so fast.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Little boxes,little boxes,

' we all have to be put in little boxes ,or so some people would have us think ,good for Susie !
They forget that it matters not 'what ' we are, but 'who' we are, as a person .

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You Beat The Shit Out Of Dickens

joannebarbarella's picture

"Good night my friend. Happy Christmas and the best of new years."

Those few simple words, in that context, had me in tears.

Thank you.

This story

It is stretching me to write. The plot is there, hence my note to Karen, but I have so much pain to get through... You know my writing: there'll be as happy an ending as possible.

sigh

Andrea Lena's picture

and I know who she is, and I bloody well know WHAT she is, and that’s sweetest lass I’ve ever met.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Excellent stuff

Thanks Steph