And Throw Away the Skins by Scott Archer Jones

Author:Scott Archer Jones [Jones, Scott Archer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781944388966
Publisher: Fomite

Night coming on. William and Bec balanced side by side on the queen bed edge, held hands. She said, “I hope this isn’t too small for you. Not like the king we had in Dallas.”

“I’ve been living on military cots. I can sleep in something less than six foot long and twenty inches wide.”

She gave him a minuscule grin, allowed it to waver. “I’ve thought a lot about you, here. In this room, with me.”

He bowed his head, his face pensive, unsure. “And so have I.”

She leaned sideways and settled her head on his upper arm. “That’s sweet. You’re quiet.”

“It’s hard to begin, isn’t it?”

“You mean, being intimate?” Her hand ran gentle down his leg, paused on his knee.

“I know you haven’t gone through the reconstructive surgery. Your emails never said anything and you never talked about it on Skype. You’re so stubborn. And when I hugged you…. ”

Melancholy rose through her like a sister of despair. “No, William. I haven’t faced up to the surgery. I would have told you if I had.”

“That’s okay. I mean, really all right. I hadn’t counted on it.”

The room hung so mute, her heartbeat was audible.

“Can you explain why again?”

“I never had big boobs to show off in the first place, did I? And I don’t miss them, not any more.”

“But the scars. And no nipples.”

“The nipples were cancerous. The scars aren’t so terrible. Very thin, and pink instead of purple.”

“Still….”

Her jaw clamped hard. She stared at him like the force of her gaze could budge him. “It’s who I am. I survived cancer and those scars saved my life. That’s what I did and who I became. Just to live.”

“But you did live. The cancer is gone.”

She laughed. In her ears it sounded bitter. “We hope to God it’s done with, for good. To have to do it all again…. ”

“More surgery is hard for both of us to consider.”

Again with this, so difficult for him? “I shudder when I think about it. Right or wrong, those doctors are death itself to me. To go back in, lie on the table, have that mask pump away my consciousness. That would demand a lot more nerve than I have.”

Tears muddled his eyes. “Even for reconstruction?”

“Maybe someday. As long as you don’t push me.”

“Rebecca, I did tell you I would try harder. Well I am.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean this – this talk. I meant I’m consulting somebody, real professional help. I’ve got a shrink.”

She couldn’t have been more surprised if the cabin had collapsed again. “Where, in Kandahar?”

“Uh-huh. More and more mental distress in the Service. They deploy psychologists and psychiatrists now to where the problems start. Rather than wait for the problem to ship back stateside.”

“How’s it going, you and this shrink?”

“Slow. Good and bad. I see him a couple times a month. Mostly I say aloud what I already know deep inside. And after I spell it out, the Doctor agrees with me.”

“And what do you say?”

He glanced through the window, tallied up the evening.

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