Holding his arms out, my father steps forward. From behind him, Devon appears, tears staining his cheeks.
I look back at my father. “Charlie?” I ask. Do I want to know? “Is he …?” I can’t get the word out.
“No, but …” I feel the relief. He’s still alive. My father takes my hand. “They normally tell me what happened, but the man I talked to knows Charlie. They got word that the Taliban had taken over a small town, capturing a bunch of women and children. They quickly deployed to the area. One of Charlie’s friends stepped on an IED. It exploded, killing him and injuring a couple others. One of them was Charlie.”
Filled with panic, I squeeze his hand. “Where is he? What have they said? Is he dying? What’s going on?” I can feel my tears bubbling to the surface.
My father squeezes my hand. “I don’t have all the answers. I’m waiting on them to call.” He takes his mobile out, placing it on the kitchen island. “All I know is he’s been injured. He’s serious, but stable. They’re operating on him right now at Camp Bastion in Central Helmend. I just couldn’t sit at home alone.”
I bite my lip, trying to stop myself from crying. “You did the right thing. Sit,” I say. “I’ll get you some tea.”
I start to walk around to put the kettle on, but Devon stops me. “Sit down with your dad. I’ll make the tea.” I purse my lips, a tear trickling down my face. I nod timidly, Devon pulling me into his arms and squeezing me to him. “He’s going to be okay, Andi. If Charlie’s one thing, he’s a fighter. He’ll be all right.” Nodding into his chest, the tears flow.
“He’s right, Andi,” my father says. “Charlie will be fine.” I peek over at him leaning his elbows on the kitchen island. He looks down at it for a moment. “He has to be.”
When Devon releases me, I go and sit with my dad, holding his hand as Devon makes us tea. We don’t say a lot to each other. We’re all too busy staring at the phone, urging it to ring.
When one hour turns into two, I start pacing. “This is agonising. Shouldn’t they know something by now?”
My dad looks down, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I keep hoping that no news means good news. The longer they operate and we don’t hear anything, the greater chance he’s going to survive this.”
Devon comes close, pulling me into his arms. I stay like that for a while, then hold my hand out to my dad. He takes it. It’s like we all zone out. I’m not sure how long we’re like that when his phone rings.
Immediately, my dad snaps into action, answering his phone with a quick hello. I squeeze Devon’s arm, trying to gauge my dad’s reaction to whatever he’s being told. I see the moment relief seems to flood his face, but it’s not there long. Tears stream down as he nods.
“Yes, please. Let me know as soon as you have more news. As you can imagine, we’re more than eager to have him home.”
Closing my eyes, I let the tears flow. He’s obviously made it. He’s going to be okay.
“Yes, of course. And thank you for calling me. I’m at my daughter’s boyfriend’s house. Can you take that number, too, just in case?” He nods, looking at Devon. Devon grabs a piece of paper, writing his landline number down. My father reads it off, then hangs up.
“He’s made it.” My father’s shoulders start shaking as he sobs. I move forward, wrapping my arms around him. We cry our relief, but it’s short-lived. My father pulls away and looks up at me. “He’s lost his leg, Andi. He’s lost his right leg.”
Feeling sick, I throw my hand over my mouth. I don’t say anything for a moment. I’m too shocked to process exactly what he’s just said. My brother may have survived and will be coming home, but will he ever be the same again?
I watch as my father hangs his head. “He’ll never be in the army again. It’s all he’s ever known. All he’s ever wanted to do. It’ll kill him when he finds out.”
After a few moments, I grab my father’s shoulders in determination. “He’ll be fine. He has to be. He’ll come home, he’ll be safe, and we’ll be a family again. With our support, I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
My dad smiles, nodding. “Of course. He has us.” He looks at Devon. “He has all of us.”
Then my stomach drops. “Dad?” I ask, waiting for him to look at me. “Do you know who was killed? Who stepped on the IED?”
He frowns for a moment, looking off in thought. “Hmm … The man on the phone said he could lose his job for telling me. What was his name?” My father’s brows furrow. “Yes, I remember. Charlie spoke of him frequently. His name was Ben.”
Closing my eyes, my world spins for a moment. When I open them back up, my father’s looking at me.
“Did you know him?”
My eyes fill with tears again. I nod. “Yes … Yes, I knew him. We met at the bar a couple weeks before they were deployed. We talked quite a bit that night.” I don’t look at Devon’s reaction to the news. I know he’ll be conflicted about my reaction.
Dad takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’m sorry, Andi.”
I try to smile. “You don’t have to be. I hardly knew him. It’s his family I feel badly for. He has a twin brother and a sister who’s on dialysis. I’m worried for her and how this is going to affect her treatment.”
My dad shakes his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine what life will be like for them. I lived through it myself for a few hours. I wouldn’t wish that hell on anybody.”
We stay silent for a while and I welcome it. I need a moment to process the fact that a boy I once kissed—a boy my brother had beat up because he was trying to save me from a moment like this—is now gone. And he’s never coming back.