Flowers from Afghanistan by Suzy Parish

Author:Suzy Parish
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781522300427
Publisher: Pelican Book Group
Published: 2018-02-17T16:00:00+00:00

20

The morning beeps of MRAPs screeched through my tent walls. The sounds were my daily alarm clock. I cleared my throat, sandpapery from Kandahar dirt and cigars. I grabbed a fresh bottle of power drink and washed the remnants of last night’s cigar smoke away.

I e-mailed Sophie first thing when I got back in my tent, yesterday, letting her know we were all right. Let there be an e-mail from her. When I pulled up my e-mail, there was only a short reply.

I prayed for you. Please be safe.

Sophie.

Not I love you, not please come home to me. I started to reply three times, but the words were stilted. I erased them. I had no idea what to say to Sophie or how to heal us. Instead, I went to the hospital website, punched in my login, and clicked the “Pay Now” icon. And with that Little Mac’s last medical bill was paid.

Between me being in Afghanistan and Sophie managing the bills at home, we finally did it. I pulled up my computer game and tried starting a few missions, but it didn’t have the same draw as before. I kept hearing Sophie in my head. Did I hide by playing combat games? I shut the computer down, feeling dissatisfied and lost. I wandered down the dark hallway of our tent.

Glenn’s door was propped wide, and he was cutting open a brown shipping box on his desk.

Travis barreled past me. “Did it get here?”

Glenn stepped back like a proud daddy. On his desk was a wooden box.

Travis pulled up with a start at the sight of Glenn’s face. Glenn’s lip was still swollen from our altercation the night before. It was shaded with spectacular circular colors ranging from black to purple. Glenn grinned. He actually looked proud of it.

“Whoa! Who gave you the fat lip?” Travis asked.

“Mac.” Glenn smirked wickedly.

“Ha! That’s a good one. Now tell me how you really got it.”

“Blackburn, you are aware of the prohibition against fighting in camp?” I asked.

Travis nodded, still mesmerized by the awesomeness of Glenn’s wound.

“Therefore, Glenn was not involved in any altercation, understand?”

“Got it. I still want to know who didn’t hit you.” Travis smiled.

I moved around the desk and ran my hand across the polished wooden box. “What’s in there?” I asked.

Glenn shot me another of his looks as if to say, “Haven’t I taught you anything?” but thankfully, he didn’t say it. “Behold, a one hundred capacity humidor.” Without waiting for me to ask, Glenn started demonstrating the features like a salesman at a car dealership. “Mahogany finish, Spanish cedar tray, humidifier, and a hygrometer.” Glenn waited for my admiration. I could see it in his eyes.

“Nice, very nice.” I didn’t know what else to say. He looked disappointed at my lack of appreciation.

“I have news, too. I just paid the last medical bill Sophie and I owed.”

Glenn’s face smoothed out into a lopsided smile. After last night, he understood how important this was to me.

“I didn’t know you had medical bills,” Travis said.

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