Friday, July 13, 2012

A Lilly in the War (short story chapter 1)


Life isn’t an easy battle to win. As a matter of fact, life is a battle that beats the crud out of you time and time again. What’s the old saying: Life isn’t fair? It sure ain't. But hey, real men don’t whine, do they? We sure take out wounds issued to us and move on, right? Sure, tough to the end. Or so I thought.
      At the age of twenty-four I realized that I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was. And let me tell you, I thought I was tough as they came. And during the war I thought I had proven my toughness and strength on many times. But when she came into my path…I was broken.
     I'm talking about Lilly. It was a Lilly that broke this man. What can I say, though? Out of a bloody, deadly war full of pain and misery, something beautiful came out of it: Lilly.
     I need a cigarette before I go on, but I don’t smoke no more. I don’t drink, either; been sober for a long time, now. The world is still dark and miserable, but I’m handling it with a clear mind. During the war though, there were times when I went into a battle stone drunk. I didn’t care if I lived or died. What did I have to love for? I came from a poor family, worked in a saw mill before I was drafted. I was in my second tour in the war. What did I care? What did I have to go home to? A crummy one bedroom apartment, beans from a can and warm beer? At least in the war I was better than a crummy saw mill worker; I was a solider, man, right? Yeah, and I believe that then I need a mental house to call home. I was just a bitter, angry young man who had lost his way and was taking it out on the war. Even when I was sober I did was always proving how tough I was by doing crazy things, when deep down I was just angry and wanting to be killed. I was like a lame dog still able to bite but wanting to be put down.
     Man, was I messed up; lost and out there.
     Great, now I’ve forgotten my starting point? Oh, who cares, a story is a story, right? Somebody might read this and then that will be that. I don’t need to be trying to be perfect, here. Lilly would tell me just to write and let the words take over. She was the smart one. Me, I’m just a dumb twit when it comes to this kind of stuff. Writing, I mean. I ain’t no….what’s the word? Oh, yeah: Novelist. I sure ain’t one of those guys, college and all. But, like I said, doesn’t matter, a story is a story.
     Where was I…yeah, the war.
     So, it’s like I said, I was like a lame dog, still able to bit, but wanting to be put down. I guess the smart people would have called me suicidal. But I knew better. I wasn’t suicidal…I was just tired of living; and hey, what a better way to cash in then as a soldier. But, GOD had other plans for me.
     One morning, I was out on patrol when the squad I was in got ambushed. We were hit hard. I’m not sure if I was the only one who made it, but I do know out of the eight of us that went out, I saw over five drop dead before I could hit the ground. The only thing that saved me was the river. I managed to crawl to it and roll in, letting the current take me wherever. I had taken a bullet to my right arm, but was none for the worse because of it. As the river threw me downstream, the sounds of bullet fire faded. I was just hoping my buddies had the good sense to hit the river like I did.
     It was early morning and the temperature was freezing. The river felt like a death grip. And as I struggled to make land, I wondered why I even went for the river? Why didn’t I stay and bite the bullet? It was the perfect chance for me? I knew why, though. I wanted to go out in a great battle, not some coward ambush. “Stinking cowards,” I gripped as I finally hit land on the opposite side of the river. I crawled up the embankment and quickly searched upstream. No sign of the enemy. I quickly made a sling for my arm with the strap of my rifle and got moving. I had a pretty good idea where I was. I knew a small town was close by.
     No more than five minutes had passed before bullets began to fly past me, hitting trees and kicking off bark. I heard voices yelling. I took into a run. As cold as I was, I hit the river again. The current was strong and fast. Only, this time, a bullet struck me in the head before my body hit the river. All I remember was a sharp pain, a bright white light, the feeling of extremely cold water…and darkness.
     I woke up in a cave, under a warm blanket with a fire next to me. A young woman was sitting next to the fire, warming her hands. At first she was blurry, but slowly she came into the clear. I stared at the young woman. She had long brown hair. Her face was pretty, but scared and tired. She had a bruise on her right cheek. She was thin, and wearing a thick brown jacket over what looked like a pair of men’s pants. Brown boots were on her feet. She was shivering. “You an angel?” I heard myself ask, my voice hoarse. A sharp, cruel, pain slapped me in the side of the head.
      The young woman looked at me. “You should be dead,” she told me, her voice exhausted, but…tender and feminine. “An angel is the reason that bullet didn’t kill you.” The young woman stared at me, studying me. “I don’t have any medicine. I wrapped my scarf around your heard to stop the bleeding.”
     I touched my head. I felt an old scarp that felt like it had seen it days, wrapped around my head. “Thanks.” I tried to lean up and made it half way, fighting through the pain. I studied my surroundings the best I could. I spotted my rifle leaning against the left cave wall. Next to my rifle were what looked like old stale bread?  In the distance I saw light coming through an opening blocked by some tree limbs and bushes. “Home sweet home?” I asked.
     “No one knows this cave is here. I found it when I was a little girl. I’m safe here. It’s almost impossible to find.”
     “That’s good.” My clothes were semi-dry. I took the blanket off of me. “Take this. You need it. I’ll warm by the fire.” I handed the blanket over and leaned completely up. My right arm ached.
     “The bullet went all the way through.”
     I studied my arm. “So it did.” I looked down at the fire. “Got a name?”
     “Lilly.”
     “Thank for saving me, Lilly.”
     “I heard the shooting. I was fishing.  I saw you get shot.  I guess they didn’t want to fish you out of the river or thought you were dead because the two shooting at you ran back upstream.”
     “I’m flattered. I’ll send them a post card.”
      Lilly shrugged her shoulders. “You’re on my side. You’re people are fighting to save mine. The least I could do…is try and help.” Lilly looked hard at me. “Why does your breath smell of alcohol?”
     I rubbed my arm. “Cold mornings, man’s gotta have something to keep him warm.”
     Lilly rolled her eyes. “You’re a drunk.”
     “Not all the time,” I said. Who was I to argue? “But yeah, most of the time, when I can find something to ease the war off of me some.”
     “How old are you? Thirty?”
     I laughed and moaned when my head exploded with pain. “I’m just turned twenty-four last week…I ain’t no old man yet.”
      Lilly stared at me. “You look…older.”
     “War can do that.” I looked at the stale bread. “Uh, you alone here?”
     Lilly nodded her head. “My parents were killed when I was fifteen. My brother was taking care of me, but then he was killed four months ago. I’ve been here since…he was killed.” Lilly’s voice broke, but she quickly regained control. She had taught herself to be tough. “He was drunk when they arrived…he….said things he shouldn’t have…and they shot him. I was outside, hiding. I heard.”
     “I’m sorry.”
     “We…never got along. He drank badly.” Lilly wrapped the blanket around her. “I keep the fire low, stay quiet, move mostly at night, but sometimes in the early morning. I stay alive.”
     “What a way to live,” I said.
     Lilly stared at the fire. “When the war ends, life will be better. I will go to school, become a nurse and help others in my village.
      “The war has been going on for four years now. I’ve been here for over two. And so far there’s no end in sight…you gonna stay like this the entire time?”
     Lilly shrugged her shoulders. “My parents are buried in my village. I won’t leave them. When the war is over, we’ll rebuild my village.”
     I felt bad for Lilly. I could see the pain in her eyes. “Sounds like a plan, I guess. But my plan is to get back to my unit and report the ambush.” I tried to stand but failed. “Slowly, I guess.”
     “You’ll stay here until it gets dark. This area is bad right now. I have seen many of the enemy around. It’s not safe to leave.”
     I thought about what Lilly said. She seemed honest. If she wanted me dead, I would be dead. “Okay,” I agreed. “How many have you seen?”
     “At least twenty. They are moving in groups of five.”
     “Squad patrols, I guess.”
     Lilly shrugged her shoulders. “They carry guns and mean to kill, that is all I know.”
     “You know how to use one?” I motioned to my rifle.
     Lilly shook her head. “No. I would have left it in the river, but knew you would need it.”
     “I appreciate that.” I stared at the stale break again and looked back at Lilly. Even through the blanket I knew she was too thin, malnourished and hungry. “Say, why don’t you go with me? I can get us out of here and get you to a refugee camp with there are warm meals.”
     Lilly shook her head. “I will not leave my parents.”
     Lilly’s voice let me know right then and there that she meant what she said and that if it meant she died of starvation, she would not leave her parents. For the very first time in my life, my heart broke for someone. “Okay,” I said.
     “You are very kind to offer, though.”
     I leaned back on my good arm. “No…I’m not. I’ve passed people before and had the chance to help. I didn’t. I’m a drunk from the poor side of the tracks, just like my old man was. I worked in a crappy saw mill before the war and lived in a one bedroom apartment over a bar. I was thrown into this war as a foot soldier because I ain’t smarter to be nothing else. I stay here because this war is better than what I had back home. Shoot, at least when I finally die I can say I died doing something other than cutting wood.”
     Lilly stared at me. Sadness came into her eyes. “That is very sad to hear. What is your name?”
     “My name? Oh, Kent. Kent McLeod. Just a poor boy from North Carolina.”
     “North Carolina?”
    “A southern state in the USA. Pretty, I guess. No worse than the rest of’em. I did go and see New York City once when I was on furlough. Man alive, that place will get you more lost than a moonless night out in Miller’s Woods. And the people…how do they all fit? No grass, either, except for a park. No thank you. I need some grass and trees.”
      Lilly nodded her head. “I can visit my capital, but I love my village. I understand.” Lilly looked around and then settled back on the fire. “Do you have a mother and father?”
     “You mean my old man and lady? Nah. My mom skipped out when my old man was killed in a fight when I was ten. State took me. I went out on my own when I was fourteen. Four years in that smelly orphanage was enough for me. I never went hungry, though. I learned to cut wood.”
     Lilly looked into my eyes when I talked. “You’re dad died in a fight and you’re mother left you?”
     “Yeah, pretty much. It happens. She wasn’t the most prim and proper, if you catch my drift. I was better off without her, anyways. No worries on me. One less funeral to go to.”
     Lilly looked down at her boots. “I was very close to my parents.”
     “How did they die?”
     “They were shot. Before your people came to fight for us. My dad voiced opposition against the government. One night, three men came and shot him and my mother dead. They let me and my brother live.” Lilly shook her head. “We should have died as a family.”
     I understood. “You buried your brother next to them, didn’t you?”
     Lilly nodded her head. “If I am to die, then I want to be near them, not far away. “
     My head hurt and my right arm ached. I felt like I had been thrown through a grinder. “Maybe I’ll rest for the entire night. Will that be okay?”
     “That will be fine. You can stay for as long as you need. I will help you as much as I can.”
     “Thanks. I think I’ll try and sleep some. If you hear anything, wake me.”
     Lilly looked around. “I did not catch any fish…I have some bread we can eat later. It’s much too risky to try and fish now. I believe I will nap, too. We are safe, trust me. We can rest. If the fire goes out, I will make another when we wake.”
     “The patrol you saw…which way were they moving?”
     “Away from my village, in the direction you came from. They were the first I have seen in a while. There is a small town up river. I think they were going there.”
     I nodded my head. “They were reports about some movement in this area. A plane went down not far from the town. The pilot wasn’t found, though…that’s what we were doing, out patrolling and looking for him. Guess they were doing the same thing.”
     “I heard a plane crash, very faintly. I saw a parachute in the sky, very far away. I could barely see it. That is all.”
     “It was a recon plane. Not even one of ours…plane belonged to one of our allies. But, when the higher ups say move, you move. Most likely this pilot hit the ground running and is still wondering around out there, maybe hiding in that town?”
     We must pray for his safe return.”
    I shook my head. “His safe return? As far as I know, everyone is my squad is dead because of this guy. Was his life worth more than theirs?”
     Lilly was quiet for a few minutes. “I cannot give you an answer that you can understand right now. Let’s rest. Please.”
     I laid back and closed my eyes. “Wherever this guy is, I hope his head is hurting, too.”
     Lilly laid back and said nothing. In a few short minutes I heard a very low snore that I almost had to strain to here. What I did hear was the river, very loud. Smart girl. I fell asleep.
    
    

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