But Christian’s body, drained of blood, sopping wet, was curled in the small space before him. In the darkness, Zeus couldn’t see his face. He was thankful for that.
He watched the stretcher disappear. He kept thinking Christian would rise and hop off.
A hand folded gently around his arm.
It was only a nurse. She tugged him lightly.
“Your cheek,” said Major Chau. “She wants to see to clean it.”
“I want to be seen by Dr. Anway,” said Zeus, going with her. “Dr. Anway. Tell her.”
Chau told the nurse. She shook her head as they spoke in Vietnamese.
“You have to go with her,” said Chau. “She’ll treat you.”
“I want Dr. Anway.”
“She says she’s not here,” said Chau.
“She works the night shift. Did she leave?”
Chau spoke to the nurse again. This time she said very little, instead prodding Zeus toward the wards.
“She doesn’t know. You better go with her and get treated,” said Chau.
“Where are you going?” Zeus asked as Chau started to turn away.
“I will look after the arrangements. Then I must go to General Trung. I will have a car for you, to wait. I will meet you back at the bunker.”
Zeus let himself be led downstairs. The nurse sat him in a small, nearly empty room right off the stairwell. A polished steel stool sat in the middle of the room. There was no other furniture, no med cart, no instruments or monitors.
She told him something in Vietnamese, then left.
The wet, muddy clothes weighed Zeus down. As he stared at the floor, a haze seemed to fall over him. He sat and stared, unable to think.
A short time later, the door opened. Two nurses, neither of whom he’d ever seen before, entered. One had a tray with a basin and cloth; the other carried what looked like a tackle box.
“Is Dr. Anway here?” he asked them. “Dr. Anway?”
The nurses glanced at each other.
“Do you speak English?” he asked. “I know I’m probably messing up the pronunciation. I’m sorry.”
The nurse with the tackle box told him something in Vietnamese and put her hand gently on his arm.
“I’m not nervous or anything,” said Zeus. He pointed at his face. “This probably looks like hell, but I’m okay. It doesn’t even hurt, really.”
It stung when they cleaned it, spraying it with a liquid that the nurse had in the box. Zeus tried not to flinch.
The women discussed something in Vietnamese, then motioned that he should take off his clothes. They wanted to see if there were more wounds.
“I’m all right, really,” said Zeus.
They insisted. The one who had brought in the basin to wash him put her hands on his shirt to unbutton it.
Zeus jerked to stop her, grabbing her hand. She shrank back. He let go.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ll do it.”
Zeus peeled off his sodden shirt. They were on their guard now, afraid of him.
There was nowhere to put the shirt. He let it drop to the floor. It made a loud
His arms and his chest were crisscrossed with bruises and scrapes and cuts. They were a map of his war.
As was Christian.
The nurses cleaned him up gingerly. None of his cuts was fresh enough to sting as they sprayed and daubed. After his chest, they wanted to work on his legs.
Zeus, reluctant, got off the stool and pulled down his pants, leaving his sodden underwear in place. They were nurses, but he felt embarrassed before them.
“Dr. Anway?” Zeus asked as they inspected the bruises on his shins. “Is she working tonight? I’m pretty sure she is.”
Neither responded. Zeus resigned himself to finding Anna on his own.
A male attendant entered as the room with a small tape measure, and used it to take the roughest of measurements of Zeus’s body — across the shoulders, legs, torso.
“I could use some underwear, too,” said Zeus as the boy started to leave.
He nodded, then went out the door. A few minutes later, he returned with a pair of surgical scrubs, handing them directly to Zeus. They were stiff and scratchy, but dry. There was no underwear. The boy said something in Vietnamese that Zeus took to be an apology.
“That’s okay,” Zeus told him. “Thank you. Thanks.”
He stood up. The nurses, who were trying to bandage his right knee, backed away quickly.
“I’m going to get dressed now,” he told them. He repeated the words slowly and motioned with his hand. “I want to get dressed.”
One of the nurses said something sternly. Zeus pulled on the shirt, hoping they would get the hint and leave. When they didn’t, he turned away and faced the wall.
Taking off his underpants felt as if he were pulling off a bandage. But the cool air on his skin was a relief. He balanced on one foot, then the other, pulling on the scrubs.
They were too short by about an inch. Barefoot, he turned around.
The nurses were gathering their things, facing the other way.
“Do you have any shoes?” Zeus asked. “Something for my feet? Shoes?”
As he pointed, the door opened. The boy had returned with a pair of sandals.
“It’s like magic,” said Zeus. He smiled and sat on the stool. To his surprise, the sandals fit perfectly.
He took his sat phone and put it in the pocket of his shirt; it hung out precariously. He bent down to the pile of sodden clothes on the floor and folded them into a bundle as best he could.
The nurse who had wheeled in the cart began talking to him, pointing to his arms and legs, giving him directions on how he should care for his injuries. Zeus nodded solemnly; in truth, he probably paid as much attention to these incomprehensible instructions as to any medical instructions he had ever received.
“Dr. Anway?” he asked when she finished. “I want to see her.”
The nurse held out her hands, indicating she didn’t know what he was saying.
Zeus trailed the women out of the room, his legs stiff and a little wobbly from sitting. The hospital was quieter than he remembered, almost serene.
He went to the ward where he had first seen Anna, then stopped. What if she had changed her mind about him?
He stepped into the room, sidestepping along the wall so he wouldn’t be in the way.
The ward looked bigger than it had the other day. Zeus saw a woman’s back at the far end of the room. His heart jumped.
He was about halfway there when she turned and he realized it wasn’t Anna. She gave him a quizzical glance.
“Dr. Anway?” he asked. “Is she here?”
“Who?”
