Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dwayne
I stared straight ahead, trying to keep my focus on the freeway, but the sun was reflecting off the road creating a mirage and the sand was starting to become more real than the road. I put on my blinker and pulled into a fast food restaurant parking lot, barely aware of what I was doing.
My breath caught in my throat. Click, click, click, click.
An inhale became an exhale, an exhale became an inhale. Then the two melded, and I lost control of my breath entirely. I doubled forward. Click, click, click, click.
That sound — was it an IED? I jumped and looked around. I was standing in the middle of a dirt road with two mud brick walls on either side, watching a little girl covered from head to toe in a baby blue burka. She was walking towards me, carrying a bucket of well water.
“Stop!” I screamed.
She looked at me, stopped, then inched forward.
“Stop!” I screamed in Arabic, but she wouldn’t listen. She just kept walking towards me, humming softly.
“Hurry, move!” I screamed in Arabic. I wanted to run to her and push her aside, but I couldn’t. Time stopped when she took another step forward. For one sweet second, she had a chance at life, then it was gone with resounding crack that blew her to pieces. The Taliban buried IEDs on the road, and I was there to stop people from stepping on them.
Nothing was left of her except for a blood-stained burka and her head, rolling down the hill towards my feet. I tried to stop myself. I told myself that it wasn’t real. I was in the parking lot of a fast food store, not an Afghani village. It wasn’t real.
Click, click, click, click. I was a bomb ready to explode — and there was nothing that could stop it.
I ducked down, screaming, begging myself to turn away, but I didn’t. Instead, I lifted the burka, and looked down at the girl, but this time it wasn’t the girl. It was Gillian.
Click, click, click, click. “AHH!” I roared and slammed my hand down to turn off the blinker.
I closed my eyes. Breathe. Breathe.
My breath came eventually, and my heart settled down, but I still wasn’t comfortable. I didn’t want Gillian to be there alone. I needed to be by her side, comforting her and telling her that everything would be okay. But it wasn’t my place, and I had to accept that.
The world faded in and out the rest of the drive home, and it didn’t stop when I got inside. I needed a distraction, but I couldn’t sit still. I’d slip back into that world. I decided to go into the kitchen and make myself something to eat, hoping that the task of cooking would make it easier for me to deal with what was happening.
I had a bag of roma tomatoes and some fresh basil I had to use, so I cut the tomatoes in half, cleaned out inside, and drizzled olive oil, Italian seasoning, and sea salt over them, then stuffed them in the oven to roast while I sautéed mushrooms, garlic, onions, celery, and carrots.
The tomatoes bloomed quickly, sending out the sickeningly sweet scent of marinara throughout the house. When they finished, I stuck the mixture in the blender, added a dash of red wine vinegar, and stuck the mixture on to simmer with a pair of Italian sausages.
I moved through the task mindlessly, as if I’d been doing it every day for years. My mind was still racing when the sauce finished and I put the noodles on to boil. I stood over the pot, watching as the bubbles sprang up, rising above the surface of the water. I could feel the heat, growing hotter and hotter. I was going to lose my mind.
There was a knock on the door. I rushed over to answer it. Gillian was standing outside with her arms folded. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I stepped aside.
She walked in. “It smells amazing in here.”
“Thanks. Is your mom okay?”
“I think so. I talked to Michael. He drove me home.” She walked into the kitchen and took a look at the sauce.
“What’d he say?”
“I honestly think he’s excited. At first, he was pissed, but my mom and I sat him down and talked to him; he started to come around. Now he’s talking about how happy he is for me.”
“That’s so good to hear. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving.”
“You’re in for a treat.” I piled noodles onto her plate, spooned some sauce over it, and cut up a sausage to add on top.
“It looks amazing.” Gillian took a bite as soon as I set it down.
“I have some wine, if you’d like some.”
“Sure.” She took another bite of sausage. “Oh,” she groaned. “This is so good.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I poured her some wine and made myself a plate so I could sit down.
“I’m just glad that I could come see you after what’d happened. I knew you’d be worried.”
“I’m alright,” I said and went back to my food.
“You don’t have to play it off. You’ve done so much for me. I’m lucky to have you.”
“I keep thinking that you’ll disappear, that I’ll wake up from a dream.”
“I’m real, and I can prove it.” She finished the last of her noodles.
“Oh, yeah?” I grabbed our plates and took them to the sink to start washing them.
She came up behind me and rested her head on my shoulder. “Yeah,” she whispered as she reached out to put her hands down my pants. I dropped the sponge I was using when her fingers grazed the head of my cock.
I whipped around and grabbed her up off her feet. “Come on.”