Nothing.
Funny how we get so adjusted to exactly what we should see on every human body we encounter. And then when it’s missing, it’s just . . . well, I already said “shocking,” but it’s really the only word that fits the bill.
He also had a lot of scarring on the exposed parts of his legs. Places that you could see had recently held stitches.
I forced my eyes up to his face again.
Everybody stood—Libby and both of her parents—so I stood, too. It seemed to be in response to Darren’s presence, but I wasn’t sure why. It was something like the way men stand when a lady walks into the room, but it had a different feel to it. A darker feel.
“Darren, honey,” Mrs. Weller said, “we have company, and you’re not dressed.”
“Come ’ere,” Darren said. But not to his mother. He was ignoring her entirely. He was staring straight at me.
I didn’t move at first. I was feeling frozen.
He said it again.
“No, really. Come ’ere. Don’t make me go over there. It’s too hard.”
I walked to where he stood leaning in the doorway, steadying himself on the frame. I was afraid, but I didn’t know why. Afraid of him, afraid of what he might be about to say. Afraid of what he knew about what my brother was going through. I couldn’t even sort it all out in my head.
I stopped and stood in front of him, feeling like I owed it to him to let him say or do whatever he had on his mind. I just opened myself up to that moment.
When he spoke, his voice was soft and low. Nothing like before.
“How’s Roy doing?”
“I think . . . ,” I began. Then I realized I wasn’t going to lie to him. Or even smooth down the truth. He knew too much. And he deserved more. “I think he’s having a really rough time.”
“Well, yeah. He’s normal. And it’s Nam. Of course he’s having a rough time. Who wouldn’t? But he’s not, like . . . injured or anything?”
“No. He’s not injured.”
“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
“Did you . . .” But then I got stuck in the middle of the thought.
“Did I what?”
“Did you know him? Over there?”
“No, not over there. I knew ’im. But I never saw ’im in Nam. It’s a big country, and we’re all over it. I just knew Roy from growing up in town. Had a drink with him the night before he shipped out. Right before I found out I was going, too. Never saw a guy that scared in my whole life. I mean, until I got over there. But I haven’t seen ’im since.”
“Right,” I said. “Got it.”
I guess I’d been hoping he had some kind of inside information about Roy. Maybe he’d been hoping the same about me. I let that expectation go again. It hurt a little on its way out.
“Next time you write to ’im, tell ’im I said hi.”
“I will.”
And with that he turned and hopped his way back down the hallway, sliding his hand along the wall for support.
I turned around to see Libby standing right behind me.
“We should go,” I said. “We don’t want to miss our bus.”
Halfway to the end of the block she slipped her hand into mine. I got that funny feeling in my knees again, and a strange sensation in my low belly. Buzzy, like electricity. But I liked it.
“You didn’t tell me your brother was having a rough time,” she said, breaking a long silence.
I could’ve told her that I’d only learned about it from his last letter. And, since I’d told her I hadn’t heard from him last time she asked, that would make it sound as though I’d heard about his troubles more recently. It would have been a half truth, if I had gone that route.
Or I could’ve quoted her brother.
“Well, yeah. He’s normal. And it’s Nam. Of course he’s having a rough time. Who wouldn’t?”
I didn’t.
I decided that if somebody is your girlfriend, or might be about to become your girlfriend, you probably owe her a different level of the truth. I figured, for somebody like that, you can just damn well do better.
“I know,” I said. “And I’m sorry about that. It was a thing I was having trouble talking about.”
She gave my hand a squeeze.
We walked the rest of the way to the bus stop in silence.
“So what did you think of the movie?” I asked her as we walked out into the dusky night.
I was so on edge waiting to know that I’d stuck my hands in my pockets so she wouldn’t see them shaking. Or reach for one and feel it shaking.
“I liked it,” she said.
I breathed for what felt like the first time in months. Why was I so tied up in knots inside when I was young? I swear I have no idea.
“Didn’t you like it?” she asked when she realized I was not about to answer.
It was a complicated question. I’d been of two minds about it all through the film, and trying to guess which way her mind was going. I felt like . . . if I could only know her opinion, I’d know which view was “right.” It was possible to stand outside the movie and think it was silly, or to stop judging and go with it and think it was funny. But all I could do was shift back and forth, wondering what my date was thinking.
“Sure,” I said. “It was funny.”
We walked right past the soda shop, and she said nothing about stopping. I breathed a great sigh of relief, as quietly as possible.
Libby had wanted popcorn, a soda, and a giant candy bar during the film. So I guessed
