Chapter 11
Caleb
“Where’d you find this one, June?” one of the older men at the table asks as he gives me the once over. He has a patch over one eye, a cane hanging off the back of his chair, and a couple fingers missing from one hand.
“Gracie brought him, Clive. Now you boys play nice and maybe he’ll come back.”
Holding out my hand, we shake. “Caleb Rourke.
“Your unit, boy?” he asks
“Staff Sergeant, Seventy-fifth, sir.”
He smiles. “Take the seat across from me, son. We’ll show these Navy boys how to play.”
The Navy boys introduce themselves. Mitch is a little older than me with a prosthetic leg and a watchful presence. Paul is just quiet.
I keep an eye on Grace as she talks to the young man helping her. He has burn scars on his neck that cover his chin and half his left cheek. The fact he’s wearing a long sleeve turtle-neck shirt tells me the burn covers more of that side.
“Don’t fret. The boy is good, just struggling. His family don’t got the guts to deal with his injuries. He’s spending too much time in his head,” Clive offers.
I nod at Clive as he deals the first hand. Clive and I win the first three rounds and lose the fourth while we all exchange our service experiences.
Grace has an easel set up and is talking Joe through the beginning process of painting. She pauses and pulls something from her purse. Next thing I know she’s helping Joe take his shirt off.
I watch as she squeezes some kind of lotion on to her palm and soothes it over the young man’s shoulder and down his arm while she talks away about mixing paints to get the right hues for sunrises and sunsets.
“Relax, son, your girl is doing what she does. She’s healing that boy with her touch, her acceptance. How bad are yours?” Clive asks.
I return my attention to him. “My what?”
“Burns.” He lifts a brow daring me to lie.
“Caught a blast on my left side. Left a trail like someone sprayed me with a hose.”
“What you do now?”
“Hotshot in season. Going to work for the local fire department during off season.”
He meets my gaze. “You know about Gracie’s husband?”
“Yeah.”
He nods as he deals another hand. “The two of you will be fine.”
We play three more rounds. Another soldier walks up to the table. “Ma’am, you want to take my seat?” I offer. “I’ve got an errand to run.”
She thanks me. I glance at the Navy guy with the prosthetic leg. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
We step away and I explain that I’m worried about Grace and ask him to watch over her till I get back. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Gracie is one of us. We’ve all got her back.”
“Thanks.”
Crossing to her, I glance at the lotion bottle she left on the table. Just what I thought. Generic stuff that won’t do shit.
“Babe, I need to run a quick errand. Please stay here till I get back.” I meet Joe’s gaze and hold out my hand. “Caleb Rourke. Watch my girl for me will ya, Joe?”
We shake hands and he nods.
My first stop is the drug store to see if they carry the pure aloe I used on my burns. They don’t have my preferred brand but one I have used in a pinch. They promise to order the other and let me know when it’s in stock.
When I reach into my pocket, I accidentally drop Guys set of keys when they tangle with mine. Scooping them off the floor, I glance at the remote start fob and it hits me. The truck in her yard is too old to have come with a remote start.
I make my way back to my truck and sit behind the wheel for a moment studying the remote on Guy’s chain.
Pulling out my pocketknife, I open the blade and slip it in the seam of the remote.
It pops open easily exposing the device as a decoy.
Inside is a small key, about the size that would fit the carved box behind the seat.
Why did someone try to break into the studio? Why did someone try to burn the studio down? Would the house have been next?
Are they looking for something? Something hidden in this box?
What the hell is going on? What was Guy into? What was he hiding? By all accounts he was a good man. Was he just trying to protect Grace?
I call a friend on the Hotshots who has connections and ask him to quietly get me a copy of the investigation report on the fire that killed Guy.
Too many things aren’t adding up. My gut tells me Grace is in danger.
Unlocking my glove box, I pull out my weapon.
Something is going on and I won’t leave her unprotected again.
Back at the center I find Grace helping another vet fashion a bowl out of clay. Joe is working on his painting. I push up my sleeve and sit next to him. He glances over and sees the damaged, puckered skin on my forearm. His gaze flies to mine.
“My left side. Shoulder, arm, ribcage, hip, thigh, calf. I was the lucky one. I’m still here. People are gonna look and stare. Some will let it get to them, others, like Grace, won’t care. You gave for your country. They don’t get to judge you. If they walk away, it’s their loss.”
The truth of my words to this young man, hit me just as hard. I’ve been hiding just like he is. Grace is slowly healing us both.
Opening the package from the pharmacy, I hand it to him.
“Pure aloe worked the best for me.” I lift my shirt enough so he can see the scars on my side.
“This brand is good, but there is a better one and the pharmacy here in town ordered it and promised to keep it in stock. I’ll let you know when they call and tell me it’s in.
Keep it in the refrigerator because it feels good when it’s cool.
I still use it when my skin gets tight.”
Glancing at his painting, I smile. “Looks like you’ve got some talent. Grace said so. Keep at it. I think that Grace is going to reopen her shop for local artists. She’ll be looking for product.”
“What do you do now?” Joe asks.
“I kicked around a couple years to get my head on straight, then I trained to become a hotshot firefighter. I work for the unit closest to this area. The local fire department is also hiring me part time. Get healed and I’ll help you look for options.
” I glance at the canvas again. Dark of night in the middle of a battlefield.
I’ve been there. It’s real. Maybe this is cathartic, just a purging.
But the depth in his painting is real. “I don’t know much about art, but what you’ve done moves me.
Grace thinks you have talent. I’d trust her opinion. ”
We both stand and exchange a bro hug. I realize he’s not healed by this encounter, but he can choose to be on the way. “I’ll try to make it back next week if I’m not working. We can take on the others in Rummy.”
He only nods, but I see a flicker in his gaze. Maybe a light. Maybe hope.