Lies

In the morning I made my walk through the hospital, checking the conditions of the patients. I started from Steve. He had a broken leg and an infected arm. I looked at his arm, I took off his bandages and saw that the infection was almost gone. I was happy for the lad. At night he had a very bad fever: water, water, that was all he could mutter with his dry lips. Then I passed to another patient. And then to another one. Summer passed this way. I do not remember much of it, except for that lad, Steve. He was a nice boy. Sometimes I killed the time in my night shifts talking to him. He admired my job, I wish I could be like you he said. He was nice. He liked to watch me working, and when I finished my shift he asked me to sit by him and have a conversation. Days went by like this. I would read him the news and sometimes we had a drink. “Well, well doctor. It seems that the hippies are taking over here” he said. And I would laugh. I saw those weird youngsters on the streets, with their long hair and colorful clothes. “Aren't you one of them Steve?” he would not answer. Apart from this he was of great company. He was interested in everything, except one.1

“Doctor, have you ever been in Vietnam?” he asked me once.2

“No, I was needed here, at Washington.”3

“Would you go if you had the possibility?”4

“I don't know Steve.” I said5

“ You know, doctor, sometimes I am afraid of the night.”6

“ Me too...”7

Every once in a while we spent entire nights talking.8

At the end of September Steve was dismissed, I remember accompanying him to the door. It was a cool morning, the leaves fell, stirred by the breeze. The trees were almost bare, the sky was incredibly blue. The air was so fresh that it hurt when you breathed. 9

“Thank you,” he said to me, “Thank you so much.”10

We shook our hands, he embraced me and slowly he started to walk away.11

That night I did not sleep. I realized that I felt alone. This feeling slowly turned into fear, into a deep terror. Good Christ if I was afraid! Every night it felt worse and worse. I wondered about Steve, and tried to imagine where he was. The only thing I knew was that he went back to Vietnam. I was not against them, but right now I hated every vietnamese. I remembered when Steve used to look at the window, his eyes concentrated on the forest. For the whole winter I was tired and kept working. Work prevented me from thinking of Steve and the war. I begged for the longest shifts. Like a machine, I worked without thinking. I felt better.12

I worked until my whole body ached, but It did not bring much satisfaction. I felt empty. Days passed accompanied by death. I saw it everywhere, in every corner. Finally my world returned to its normality. Steve was back, with no major wound. I was overwhelmed by happiness. Then I realized that something had changed. I changed, and so did he. I saw that both of us were different, I saw my dullness, my fear for the war and finally saw my cowardice. In Steve I could only tell that his actions had an unnatural composure. Everything he did was measured, as if he was afraid to break something. I thought he was hiding something. Again cowardice and fear afflicted me, and I did not ask anything to Steve.13

“Hello, doctor” he said14

“It's good to see you again, Steve”15

“For me too, doctor.” he said, “How have you been?”16

“Good, good, how about you?”17

“Good”18

We were lying.