Dreamer and the Soldier pt. 2

Terra maneuvered her large truck over the snowy road, swearing loudly as the car in front of her swerved in the lane and suddenly came to a stop. She slammed on the breaks to keep from crashing into other vehicle while shooting out her arm to restrain her canine passenger, who whined nervously. "Yeah, I know, Mack. Drivers these day, right?" She looked over at her beloved dog, a lab-husky mutt with a burnished gold coat and big honey-brown eyes. "You're such a good girl, Mackie. Good girl." Terra pat the dog's shoulders, making sure that she was calm while giving herself time to breathe. She was still rattled from her last accident, but declined her father's offer of driving her from Eugene, Oregon to her childhood home in Washington and back, a voyage that measured over four hundred miles round-trip. 1

They had been going about forty miles an hour on the interstate, the snowy conditions making the journey treacherous. Terra wasn't looking forward to being home, surrounded by her siblings, but they were family; if you couldn't be with family for two weeks, then with whom could you? "At least I don't have to go back until the twelfth," she said to Mack, who perked up her ears. "That means I get to stay here and celebrate my birthday with Mom and Dad, and hopefully--" She didn't say that she wished her sister to leave before the tenth. "Anyway, Mack, I think you'll like your grandma and grandpa, they like to spoil people," she said cheerily. Terra pulled back on the interstate again, girding herself for the last seventy-five miles until she was there. 2

The snow continued to fall heavily like white fluffy cotton-balls escaping their confinements, the sky blanketed in grey clouds as she drove. She was glad that she'd kept her childhood truck, a Jeep her father helped her pick out when she turned eighteen. It was strong and sturdy, able to survive any car crash that didn't total it completely. Patting the dashboard affectionately, Terra slipped the converter that would connect her music player to her sound system in. With the band Journey blasting at high volume the woman and dog drove carefully over the freeway. 3

The Jeep crunched near-soundlessly onto the snow-covered driveway to the house two hours later. Terra had turned down the volume when they'd hit the residential areas her mood dampening along with the music. She shut the engine off and looked up at the house and caught her breath. There, on the porch, was the swing that was the birthplace of so many memories of childhood summers filled with young love and innocence, with the desire to conquer the world. It looked as sturdy and sound as it did all those years ago. The last time she was here, a handful of summers ago, she had actually taken the swing down since no one used it anymore; she didn't need tangible pieces of memory haunting her as its phantoms filtered through her mind. "So here it is again," she murmured to herself. Shaking her head, she exited the Jeep, Mack bounding nonchalantly after her, and got her baggage from the backseat before entering the house. 4

Her mother was in the kitchen, Terra could hear her humming harmonizing with the rhythm of spoons on pots and knives on cutting boards as she dropped her bags at the bottom of the nearby staircase. Taking off her jacket and leaving it on the living room couch she walked to the kitchen, only to be met by a large mug of steaming liquid. "Here, cocoa," her mother told her with a smile. "It's the homemade stuff, not the garbage found at the grocery store." Terra gratefully accepted it, noticing a large shot of brandy lacing the delicate flavors together while taking a long drink. 5

After a moment she noticed that something was missing. "Where's Dad?" 6

Her mother shrugged and went back into the kitchen, readying the next day's ingredients for a smoother time cooking. "You know your father, always running people around town, picking them up and such. Why, I'm sure he'd be just fine opening a taxi company of his own, he drives random folks around enough! Right now he's...picking up a friend from somewhere, I think. I'm not sure, really," she babbled, and promptly concentrated on her task at hand. 7

Though she wasn't sure what her mother was rambling about, Terra shrugged and hauled her luggage to the room she lived in growing up that was always available to her during visits home, and made herself comfortable. Mack had explored the house to her liking and poked her gold snout in the doorway, nosing it open and bounding onto the bed where Terra had lain out her clothes to be stuffed into mothball- and sachet-filled bureau drawers. Situating her room was easy, it had only been a little over a year since her last visit home. "Granted, I had less clothes then, I'm sure," she told Mack, who glanced back at her with doubtful eyes. "It's true!" The dog only snuffled in response. 8

A glance at the bedside alarm clock half an hour later told her that it was past ten when she had her living space set up the way she wanted. "You know, Mackie girl, for having done nothing all day but sit and yell at other drivers, I feel mighty tired," she mumbled. Her eyelids heavy, she changed into her nightclothes, called a goodnight to her mother and set the alarm before getting into bed. 9

It was as if she had just closed her eyes before she felt insistent pads beating at her arm, left exposed outside of the blankets. Mack whined lowly, her snout nuzzling Terra's ear in marked impatience. "Damn dog, getting me up at--" she glanced at the clock-- "four in the morning. You better have to go bad." She shifted groggily out of bed, feet fumbling for the slippers she'd left near the bed table. As she walked the short distance to the bedroom door she could hear her parents talking in the living room. 10

"Sure, I'm sure. Who knows our daughter better than me?" 11

"I know you feel that way, Rick, but do you think this is the best way to--" 12

"Yes, Heather, I think it is. He needed a place to go, and neither you nor I could ignore that; you saw him, he was dead on his feet and that whole side is pretty much useless. It is the season of goodwill and giving and such, and we've been the boy's second set of parents. I couldn't just let him spend the holidays alone in some..some place where they'd just pass him by and ignore him." Movement, as if starting up the stairs, could be heard from Terra's position. 13

Then, "Well, I know that. He's a good boy, and a fine young man. It's a shame that he couldn't have come home in better shape, or sooner, or... But I know how you feel. I was afraid that I would've just gone and got him myself if you didn't leave when you did. That boy has always been a part of our family, and I'm glad you went and got him." 14

"I am too, honey. I think it's time for bed, though, I have a feeling that it's gonna be a long day tomorrow." 15

She could hear mumblings after that, the creaking of the aged floor boards signaling that they had reached the upper floor and that she wasn't going to get much out of eavesdropping on them. Whispering for Mack, both woman and dog managed it through the house out into the cold without the lights being turned on. "Dog--pee, and we're getting inside. And you aren't allowed in the bed with those frozen feet, mine are bad enough!" 16

They turned back through the snowed-over path and quickly went back in the house. Mack bounded into the dwelling with the grace of a gazelle and was now wagging her tail in the guest room, Terra noticed. She recalled her dog from the doorway of the room, and together they returned to bed. 17

****18

Josh woke up, the mattress a glorious thing compared to the hospital bed he'd been in for nearly two months. It was not yet day out, only some time in the early winter morning. Stretching gingerly, he carefully got out of bed and set into the exercise regiment prescribed by his doctor. He had to go easy on himself, the doctor had even said so, and no matter how stir-crazy he was after being confined to his bed since being sent back to the States he wasn't in the mood to injure himself worse in the process of healing. "Up, one, two, three," he muttered to himself, his hand on his right shoulder as he raised his injured arm. Switching arms after the first set of raises, he began to think to himself.19

He had dreamt of her--her long, dark hair was subject of many dreams, and paired with her deep green A twinge in his arm and side brought him out of his autopilot mode and back into reality, his warning bells telling him his stretches were done for the moment. Doing one final raise as far as he could over his head, which turned out to not be too far, he made his way out to his duffel bag in the living room. Carrying it back, he spied Mrs. Jackson in the kitchen making coffee as her husband read a magazine at the table. She caught sight of him and smiled.20

"Hey stranger, you're up. You want some coffee, or are you headed back to bed?"21

Josh grinned at the offer. "It smells heavenly, ma'am, and I am compelled by my stomach to accept your kindness." He bowed gallantly to his hostess and exited the living room, took his bag to the guest room and returned to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair at the table, letting his hands rest on the dented mahogany, weathered by time and a family of six with frequent transient additions, himself included. Josh had spent years eating at this table, most of his free time in high-school was spent either with his family or with the Jackson clan, thanks to his friendship with the eldest daughter, Terra. 22

Terra...23

Thinking about her sent shivers down his spine, thankfully not noticeable by her mother as she set down a large cup of coffee in front of him, along with the sugar bowl and cream. His good hand shook slightly as he reached for the cream, pouring some into the dark liquid as he thought about her. He stirred his drink and took a long pull as Mr. Jackson spoke in that gravely voice of his. "So Terra's planning on coming for the holidays, you know."24

Josh choked on his coffee, coughing painfully as it sloshed over his cup onto his chest and abdomen. Mrs. Jackson was quick to respond, thumping him hard in the middle of his chest, clearing his airway and getting him to swallow what was stuck in his throat while her husband found a towel and wet it in cool water to soothe any burns on his skin. 25

"Are you okay?" his hostess asked, patting his back and trying to calm his shudders as the shock wore off. 26

He looked up at her. She nodded, answering his unspoken questions. Josh coughed one last time and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, thoughts running erratically through his mind. "How--when--I should go." He stood up, his head spinning. 27

Heather looked to her husband and held Josh's good shoulder fast in her grip. "Joshua, dear, we know about your relationship with our daughter. Though we didn't approve when we found out, but what's done is done. We can't change that, but you have always been welcome in our house. Nothing then had changed that, and nothing is likely to now." 28

Joshua coughed again, pain shooting up his shoulder. He honestly had not anticipated seeing her again, not even when he would be staying at her parents' house for the holidays--last that he knew, she worked her way through the last holiday gatherings. Her parents were kind to take him in, and though he gratefully appreciated that, but he was unsure if it was wise to be living around their daughter for even a short amount of time. Their last encounter had not been the best. "Mrs. Jackson, I--" 29

She cut him off. "First, we have names, and you're welcome to use them. Second, we all know that it is best for you to stay here. Though you're not exactly a cripple, you can't use that arm for anything, and if I have to take advantage of that I will. You're staying here, hon. The roads are closed, there's a blizzard ripping through town and we old people aren't willing to drive your stubborn ass out of here to avoid her. Believe us, if she finds out that you were here and left without seeing her, she'd be more upset with you than if you stayed. Think about that." She squeezed her hand on his shoulder lightly. "Plus, it's been too long since we've seen you. You need a home, at least for right now. We can't in good conscience let you be alone for the holidays while you're injured; it's what drives good men to the bottle." 30

His heart pounded in his chest. It had been ten years since he last saw her, and in that time he'd changed so much he wasn't sure he saw the boy he used to be anywhere inside him. During his first tour in Iraq his parents had died, a grisly car accident with a drunken driver, and he was refused leave to go to the funeral. He wasn't even allowed to go sell their house or tie up his parents' affairs. It was then that he decided to lose himself in the Marine Corps, to make a career of being a soldier. 31

And a career he had made. He was a captain now, responsible for the lives of over a hundred men--no, less than that now, he thought grimly, shaking his head minutely in effort to stop thinking about the dead soldier. Joshua looked at Heather and sighed. "You're right, she would be quite..upset with me if I just left. I guess I'll stay, I don't have anywhere else to be for a while," he said with a small smile. 32

Heather smiled at her husband, the grin of a victor. "See, I told you I could talk him into staying," she chirped happily, before she turned back to Josh. "You should get back to sleep now, hon; it's still a while 'til the sunrise, and you'll need all the rest you can get when.. Just go get some rest," she said to her guest, a secretive smile half-hidden on her face. 33

Josh finished his coffee and exited gracefully from the kitchen table, quickly concluding that Terra was either on her way or already at the house, the thought sending an involuntary shiver down his body. It had been too long since he'd seen that barely-a-woman he'd left years ago, and he wasn't sure if he was going to survive the meeting again. 34

"It'd suit me right," he muttered to himself as he passed back into his room. Josh went to his dufflebag and removed a battered leatherbound book, the last present given to him by Terra, and snatching a pen from the desk his bag rested on he returned to the bed. The book opened with the silence of broken-in leather as he sat down and settled in to write the thoughts whirling within him.