Chapter 2 #2
I jotted down the name. “Give A Hand Up…it sounds like some sort of rescue organization.”
“Savior mentality. They tried to encourage me to join but I don’t want their help. I get motivational speaker vibes from them and that makes me nervous. My brother joined an MLM and now he’s a religious freak and spouts off a lot of inaccurate health advice, last I heard.”
The more she spoke, the more I wondered what Patricia was doing out here.
How had she ended up homeless? She was smart, she was well-spoken.
She seemed clear-headed and capable. I knew that not everybody who was homeless struggled with mental health or addiction issues, but then again, you never really knew what was beneath the surface.
Civilization and society both wore thin veneers, often tissue-paper thin.
“What are you thinking?” she asked. “You have an odd look on your face.”
I took a deep breath. “You want my honest answer?”
She nodded. “I’d prefer that.”
“How did you…why are you here? You seem so smart and so capable. I’m not sure how to ask this without sounding rude.”
Patrica paused, then she let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “What’s a woman like me doing in a place like this?”
I nodded, blushing.
“A lot of smart and capable people end up under a bridge.”
“I know, and I didn’t mean it to sound that way,” I said.
“How did I end up here? Well, it started when I came home for a two week leave from the service one day to find that my husband had left me and took our little girl with him. I didn’t know anything was wrong till I found the house empty.
I went to court and fought him for custody, but given I was still on deployment, the judge gave him custody and I got the right to see her on my leaves.
I was heartbroken, and threw myself into my job. ” She gave me a painful shrug.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “What happened then?”
“Sandra, my daughter, fell in love with her new mother. The cun—bitch was always around. I’d only seen her for a few months after her birth and then only sporadic visits.
I finally got it. She didn’t know me, and my ex did nothing to keep my memory alive to her.
So I focused on my career and I made Second Lieutenant.
I was put in charge of a unit of soldiers and we were sweeping an abandoned village for survivors.
I ordered my men to check out what we thought was a deserted building. ”
I grimaced. “And it wasn’t?”
“Oh, it was empty. But I wasn’t thinking.
I was upset over a letter from my ex telling me his new wife wanted to adopt Sandra.
I didn’t think to have them sweep it for bombs first—we can detect a lot of them now.
The enemy had left a series of booby traps and when the men were inside, the building exploded.
Thirteen of my men died, and ten more were injured, seriously.
All because I was too upset to think clearly.
” She leaned forward, elbows on knees, staring at the ground.
“It wasn’t your fault—” I started to say, but she interrupted me.
“Oh, but it was . I let my personal life interfere, and when you’re in the military, you owe it to your men to be present at all times.
When others’ lives depend on you, you push everything else to the side.
My negligence caused thirteen deaths, and ten soldiers to end up permanently scarred and disabled.
I resigned my commission and came back home, but there was no place for me. ” She sighed.
I could feel the pain in her voice—the emptiness and regret. I wanted to say something to make it better, but I knew that any platitudes would bounce off. She needed serious counseling, and even with help, I didn’t know if she’d ever be able to let it go.
“I couldn’t adjust to civilian life again.
So I just…drifted. My daughter had pretty much forgotten me—she’s sixteen now, and I haven’t heard from her in several years.
My father, a military man himself, was so disappointed in me.
I have no one. I eventually ended up here a few years ago.
The Soldiers of Misfortune . This is where I belong.
” She raised her head, and while there were no tears on her face, I could feel the ones hiding inside.
I wanted to help. I wanted to extricate her from this encampment and reunite her with her daughter, but I also recognized that wasn’t going to happen. She was paying penance for something that would probably haunt her forever.
“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out the only way I could think of. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Patricia smiled, then—a genuine smile. “No, but thank you for asking. Anyway, Give A Hand Up—GAHU for short, if you live around this camp—is suspicious as hell. Several of our members have gone missing over the past few months, and each time, they became involved with the organization. So if you want to find out what happened to Greg, I’d start there. ”
“Thank you,” I said, jotting down notes.
She shivered and glanced at the sky. “The night’s going to be clear, which means cold. I’d better make the rounds and see that the burn barrels have enough fuel.”
I paused, then asked, “Is there someway I can help? Can I give you some cash? Or buy food for the encampment? I’d like to contribute in a way that actually helps.”
Patricia thought for a moment. “There are several old soldiers here who need help but they’re scared of going to the hospital. If there’s a way…”
I thought for a moment. “I’ll try to arrange for a healthcare provider to come down and give checkups for everyone.
I won’t promise more than that, but I’ll do everything I can.
” I stood, sliding my hands in my pocket.
I had a fifty in there, and I folded it into my palm, then asked, “As far as Give A Hand Up—what’s the name of the person who reaches out to the soldiers here? ”
“James Appleberry,” Patricia said. “I don’t even like being around him.”
“Got it,” I said, reaching out for her hand. “Thank you—you’ve been such a help.”
As she took my hand, I pressed the fifty into her palm, then before she could say anything, I saluted her, and headed back to my car, thinking about how many stories these encampments held, and how many tales of laughter or tears they absorbed.
They were microcosms of society, and every story was unique, every one tragic in its own way.
And sometimes, the best we could do was to catch a glimpse from the outside, pressing our face against the window leading into their world.