Any Soldier

by Lubrican

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Chapter Three

"I don't know ... do you have a sister?" Mrs. Benson asked Bob.

"I don't remember," he said. His hand went automatically to his head, where one of the holes drilled in his skull had left a small, eraser sized bald patch.

Benson flipped to another page.

"Ahhh," she said. "You're a traumatic brain injury patient. That explains it. You're just having memory problems."

"I guess so. You'd think I'd remember my own sister, though."

"Well that's your handwriting, right?" she asked pointing at Claudia's name.

"Yes," he said.

"And you wrote the date right there, right?" She pointed to the date of the last update, which was just before his deployment to Iraq.

"Yup," he said.

"Then you have a sister," she said, smiling. "But her phone number is no longer in service, according to the call log. Maybe she moved after you deployed. Or at least changed her phone number."

"Obviously," he said.

"Well, we can't do anything now. Do you have any correspondence from your sister? Something that might have her address on it?"

"If I had correspondence from my sister, I'd know I had a sister," he pointed out.

"Oh. Yes." She flushed with embarrassment.

"Maybe your unit has something. Why don't you contact them, and if they have something then you can come back and we'll get this squared away."

"Sure," he said.

"And you should probably check with the Soldier Family Assistance Center. She may have tried to contact you through them. But if what she told them didn't match what was on the DD 93 they wouldn't have told her anything. They're sticklers about privacy these days, especially when it comes to wounded warriors."

"Okay," said Bob.

"Next!" she called, looking past him.

"I'm taking you to the Soldier Family Assistance Center," said Edith. "They'll get you with your man."

"I don't know how to thank you," sighed Julia. "This has been so difficult!"

"You poor dear," cooed Edith. "Don't worry. Everything will be all right now."

She stopped the car and Julia got out.

"Just go in those doors there and tell them his name and social," said Edith.

As she drove away, Edith Johnson felt proud for the first time in a long time.

The members of the SFAC were handpicked for their cheery, unflappable composure. This is because family members often seem like they are punishment from hell, foisted on people just trying to do their jobs. Nothing is ever good enough, fast enough or cheap enough to satisfy a grieving family member. All family members believe their soldier should be at the front of every line.

So when a tired, bedraggled and confused Julia walked into the SFAC and was approached by only the second smiling person Julia had seen all day, she smiled tiredly back.

"You're looking for a family member?" asked Specialist Four Denise Throckmorton.

"Yes," sighed Julia, and she held out the post it note with Bob's name and social written on it.

Having nothing better to do, and it being a nice day, Bob walked over to Randolph Hall, where the Soldier Family Assistance Center was located. Along the way he tried to think about his sister. Initially all he got was a big blank in his mind. His parents had died early in his Army career, and he remembered the pain of that. But thinking "sister" didn't produce anything at all.

He sat on a bench in the sunshine. It was chilly, but not bad enough to worry about. The woman had mentioned letters. He closed his eyes and thought about mail call in Iraq.

An image popped into his mind ... a pretty young woman in cap and gown. She was smiling ... happy. He felt a tug from his heart, and made assumptions based on that yearning to see this woman.

He got up and went on toward Randolph Hall.

"Do you have your travel orders?" asked SPC Throckmorton.

"Travel orders?" Julia was confused.

"You should have been sent travel orders," said Throckmorton, calmly.

"I just came," said Julia, helplessly.

"Can I see your ID?" asked Throckmorton gently.

Julia looked behind her.

"It's in my purse ... in my car." She pointed back towards where she had parked, which was now half a mile away. "It's over there somewhere."

"I need some kind of ID so I can straighten all this out," said SPC Throckmorton. "But I promise you I can straighten this all out."

Julia didn't think she had the strength to go back and find the car and get her purse. And in any case, she didn't have an ID that would match what the Army had on file for his sister. And since that was what was being required, it looked like her quest was doomed to failure after all. She felt suddenly weak in the knees and swayed.

"I just found out he was hurt." She sagged helplessly. "I don't know how badly. I just wanted to see him." Tears welled up in her eyes. "Can I sit down somewhere? I'm so tired. I drove all the way from Missouri."

It was obvious to SPC Throckmorton that the woman was on her last legs, and might collapse at any moment. She took the woman's elbow and led her to a line of upholstered chairs, letting her sink into one. Throckmorton reached for the supply of tissues she kept in one pocket and offered one to Julia.

"I know this is hard for you," she said, soothingly. "I'll try to cut through the red tape. Can you give me a minute?"

Julia nodded, dabbing at her eyes. She thought about leaving while the woman was gone. She didn't want to leave. She had come so far, and all she wanted was just a glimpse of him, to know he was all right ... to be able to tell him they were thinking about him.

She glanced at the door. A tall young man was coming in, limping slightly. He looked familiar. Adrenaline surged through her body, instantly giving her energy. She shot to her feet.

"BOB?" she screamed.

Specialist Throckmorton whipped around and saw her customer standing, mouth agape, frozen, staring at a wounded warrior coming through the doors. The soldier looked at the woman.

"Sis?" he said, his eyes widening.

The "reunion" was touching in a way that made Denise Throckmorton want to burst into happy tears. The distraught young woman ran and flung herself at the tall soldier who, Denise noticed with a semi-professional eye, compensated nicely on what she recognized as a prosthetic leg of some kind. He swayed, but his arms wrapped around the distraught girl and picked her up off the floor, where his instincts could control her additional weight better.

"Oh Bob!" she wailed, hugging him fiercely. "I was so worried! I was afraid you were dead!"

SPC Throckmorton snapped back onto professional mode, wiping her eyes with her knuckles. "Dead" was an unhappy word in this place, and nobody wanted it bandied about. The reunion was touching, but it needed to be moved to a more private setting. She approached the couple.

"This is your sister?" she said, by way of intruding. She smiled.

"Yeah," said Bob, looking a little shell shocked.

"You got your ID on you?" asked Throckmorton.

"Sure," said Bob, and he extracted his billfold. Julia was still wrapped around him, holding him and sobbing, her legs fastened firmly around his upper thighs. He let go of her and opened his wallet to extract his military ID card.

Throckmorton glanced at the post it note and saw that everything matched. "What's her name?" she asked, knowing it was useless to try to question the crying girl.

"Claudia," said Bob, remembering the name on his DD Form 93. "Claudia Strangline. She moved since I filled out my 93 card and they couldn't find her. I was coming here to see if you'd heard from her or not."

"I'm happy to say we've heard from her," said Denise, smiling widely. "Let me get her squared away. She's dead on her feet." She winced at her own used of the taboo word.

"No problem," said Bob, and put his arms back around his sister.

She turned her tear streaked face up to him. "Are you all right?" she asked in a high pitched voice.

"I am now," he said, squeezing her. "I have a traumatic brain injury, and I forgot I had a sister. But I'm getting better."

Julia's mind whirled. Any port in a storm, they say, and she seized the floatation device that was offered.

"Yes! I'm your sister!"

"They tried to notify you when I got injured, but I guess you moved or something, because they couldn't find you at the address on my emergency notification card."

Again she went with the first thing that came to her, based on the last time she had moved.

"I graduated and got a job teaching," she said, breathlessly, staring up into his eyes. She couldn't believe he was right there, in her arms!

"That explains it," he said. "Here she comes."

Specialist Throckmorton approached, smiling.

"I pulled some strings. She's so tired we need to get her somewhere she can rest and you two can catch up. We'll do the paperwork later. I've gotten her a room at one of the Fisher houses. You can stay there with her while she's here. I've already notified your chain of command."

"That's wonderful," said Bob, eager to get out of the barracks, even if only for a few days. And his sister had a car. Didn't she?

"Do you have a car?" he asked.

She waved a hand. "Over there somewhere," she said. She wanted to reinforce the idea that she was on her last legs. "I had to park it way over there somewhere."

"We'll find it," he said, squeezing her.

Throckmorton handed him a set of orders. "Promise me you'll get back with me in a day or two," she said. "I need to get her situation squared away so all the tees are crossed."

"No problem," said Bob. "Can we go now?"

"Have a good time. I got her in for five days to start with. We can extend it later when we get the paperwork done."

"Hoo-rah," said Bob. "Let's go, Claudia." He pushed her away from him, but held her shoulders. "Is that what I call you? Claudia? Or do I have a nickname for you?"

"Call me anything you want," she sighed, and leaned back in to hug him again.

Julia was still in a daze as Bob keyed open the door in the guest house that provided emergency lodging for family members through donations. It was similar to a hotel, and the room was nice, though compact. There was a queen sized bed, a small kitchenette with a table that would seat three. A couch formed a partial barrier between the sleeping area and a small space with a TV in it.

"You want to take a nap while I go get some clothes to bring over here?" asked Bob.

Julia, desperately tired now, nodded. "Just promise me you'll come back," she said.

"I promise," he said. "I'm not going anywhere now that you're here."

She was sleeping on the bed when he got back. He put his things down quietly and stared at her. She looked familiar, and yet he could remember nothing of their interaction in years past. She looked a year or two younger than he was, at most. She must have been in college when their parents died.

The way she was lying caused her auburn hair to half cover her face. The swell of her breast caught his attention. It seemed like so long since he'd seen someone ... a female ... not associated with the military. He realized he was looking at his sister's breast and looked away, feeling mildly guilty.

He sat in a chair, but there was nothing to do except look at her. If he turned on the TV it would wake her up. He closed his eyes and, after a little while, his head jerked and he woke up. If he was going to nap, it might as well be in a comfortable place.

He got up and lay down beside his sister. Almost immediately she murmured and rolled toward him. Her arm reached for him and she snuggled up to his chest. It was simply natural for him to enfold her in his own embrace.

She felt warm. Her hair smelled wonderful. She wiggled, trying to get even closer to him.

When he felt a tingle in his groin, and his penis began stiffening, he felt guilty for a few seconds, and then decided he'd already suffered enough. He just enjoyed feeling good in the arms of a woman.

Even if it was his sister.

Julia woke and caught his scent immediately, even before she felt his arm draped over her. Her hand moved, and she felt his body under it. Her other arm was asleep, so numb that she knew if she tried to move it nothing would happen.

Air rasped between his lips, which were just above her head. She lifted her good arm and brushed her hair back, tilting her head up. His face was slack in sleep. The urge that suddenly surged through her body was both delightful and shocking. She'd only felt that urge one other time, back in high school, while she danced in the arms of Steven Biggs. She had acceded to that feeling that night, and lost her virginity in the process. She had never regretted it, even when it became obvious that she and Steve had no future together and they broke up. In that moment it had been something she desperately wanted to do. It had made her feel like she had taken a concrete step towards being an adult.

She contemplated the emotions rushing through her. She could feel her nipples stiffening. They itched and she wanted to squeeze them, but they were pressed against the man who was making her feel this way, and she didn't want to move ... to disturb this physical bond.

"What now?" she wondered. In truth, if this was all that ever happened she could be happy. She had found him. He was all right. Of course there was the minor misunderstanding that he thought she was his sister, but that could be dealt with. It would be funny ... something they'd joke about in the future. Right?

She leaned her nose against his chest and inhaled deeply. She had never smelled a man like this. She decided there was no aftershave, no cologne, no artificial odor that could hold a candle to the natural scent of a male. At least to this male.

The feelings coursed through her, and now there was an itch in another place on her body. Her hips thrust against him instinctively.

He moved, and his breathing changed.

She looked up to find his eyes open, staring into hers. She could get lost in those eyes.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she sighed, suddenly feeling like she knew what a slut must feel like. She would do anything for this man. She shuddered with the force of the feeling.

"You okay?" he asked, feeling her tremble.

"Not hardly," she said, realizing how foolish she was letting herself be. Now instinct caused her to roll away from him ... to put distance between this man who had so much power over her, and her traitorous body.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"You've done way too much already," she said, rolling out from under his arm.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Never mind. I'm acting silly. It's just so good to know you're all right."

"Well, mostly," he said.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She quelled the urge to climb back onto the bed with him.

"I don't know how to tell you," he said. "I mean it may shock you. You may not be ready for it."

"I'm looking right at you, Bob," she said, confused.

He was lying on his left side, and he rolled onto his back and raised his left leg. He reached to the knee and pulled his pant leg up, exposing the black anodized metal that was now his ankle. The tennis shoe on the artificial foot looked like something on display on the foot of a mannequin.

"Oh Bob!" she gasped, her hand coming to her mouth.

"It's not so bad," he said urgently. "I can get around fine."

"I just didn't ... I mean when I saw you I thought ..." She stared, horribly fascinated with the thing attached to his body.

"You thought I was still a whole man," he said sadly.

She looked at his face and saw pain there.

"Don't be silly," she said. "You are a whole man."

"No I'm not," he said. "I'm a freak now."

"Stop that!" she said, and stamped one foot.

"And there is so much I can't remember," he said. "I couldn't even remember you until I remembered the picture you sent me."

The world tilted on its axis and Julia felt like she might fall to one side.

"The one of me in my cap and gown?" she asked, breathlessly.

"That's the one," he said sadly. "I would never have known you existed if they hadn't called me in to tell me they couldn't find you."

Now the prominent emotion Julia felt was shame ... shame that she was usurping the role of a woman he ought to know, ought to be able to talk to and remember things together with. This was fine for her, at least for the moment, but it was wrong to take something from this man.

"There are other things you've forgotten too," she said sadly.

"Like what?"

"Let's go get something to eat. I'll tell you about it then."

Bob's triple chili cheeseburger and fries sat in front of him, slowly losing their heat. He'd taken only one bite of the burger before she told him who she really was, and about the children. He sat, jaw agape as she talked about their letters to each other, and the things he'd said in his letters to the kids.

As she went on, things stirred inside him. They weren't memories, exactly. It was more like déjà vu, where it all seemed so familiar somehow, but not something he'd actually gone through. And it was confusing images or bits of information that he knew were in the wrong order to make sense the way they should.

"And I was worried about you, because I knew you wouldn't just stop writing, and a teacher who is a Viet Nam vet helped me find out where you were." She flushed. "I think I went a little crazy when I jumped in the car to come find you. I can't believe how things worked out, but I can't go on pretending to be your sister. She's out there somewhere. Maybe you can find her."

She sat back. Her own sandwich was untouched. She reached for it, but more from nervousness and the need to do something, than hunger. She nibbled at one corner.

"So the picture I remember is you," he said, sounding confused.

"Yes," she said. She couldn't think of anything else to say, even though his comment made very little sense.

"When I think of that picture, I feel ... funny," he said.

"Funny?"

He remembered their embrace, in bed. She had lain down to take a nap and found a man in bed with her when she woke up. Yes, he had thought she was his sister at the time, but brothers and sisters don't lie like that. What must she have thought? She had pulled away ... had said he'd done too much. No wonder!

"I'm sorry!" he gasped.

"What on Earth are you sorry for?" she asked genuinely startled.

"I got in bed with you," he whispered.

"Yes?" She was confused. So what? Nothing had happened. If anything not enough had happened! She realized suddenly that that was a naughty way of thinking of things ... somehow. They didn't really know each other, and she knew she should be shocked that she'd loved waking up in the arms of a strange man. It was so hard, because she was so attracted to him. She couldn't seem to think logically or normally.

"I shouldn't have," he said.

Julia felt like, somehow, she had hurt him. She didn't want that. She never wanted to make this man hurt in any way. He had lost a leg on her behalf, on behalf of the children. If anything she owed him something.

"Why not?" she asked, trying to sound calm about it. "You took a nap. I took a nap. We just happened to take one together. You didn't know I was an imposter then."

“But you're not an imposter," he said. He looked anguished. "I mean I felt something for you. I felt like I knew you. I just couldn't remember the things that made me feel the way I did." He blinked. "It's confusing, because I felt ..." He stopped and looked away. He looked almost guilty.

"What?" she probed.

"I felt things I shouldn't feel for my sister," he said.

Julia felt a jolt of excitement. "But I'm not your sister."

"But I thought you were!"

There was something like euphoria bubbling up inside her now. "But I'm not!"

"Don't you get it?" he moaned. "When I thought you were my sister I got excited." He flushed pink. "I got stimulated." He was obviously having difficulty going on.

"You got horny?" she whispered.

"Oh man," he moaned, and dropped his face into his hands. "I'm so fucked up."

Euphoria turned to alarm as she realized he was in emotional pain. She didn't think he should be, but he obviously was.

"Listen to me," she said urgently. "You remembered my picture. You made a tiny little mistake about who you thought I was, but you remembered me, Bob, not your sister. What you were feeling was for me, Bob, not your sister. And then I went and pretended to be your sister, just so I could get to see you and talk to you. This is really my fault, Bob. You shouldn't feel bad. You didn't do anything wrong.”

He looked up. His eyes were damp. "I thought you said all we did was exchange some letters."

"That's right."

"Then I shouldn't get horny for you either."

She leaned back in the booth and stared at his anguished face.

"Don't you think I should be the one to decide about that?" she asked.

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