Page 58 of Wild Child
"Messed up in so many ways," he murmured.
Before I could ask what that meant, he repositioned. His left shoulder leaned against the wall of dirt behind him. Our knees pressed together. This little nook of dirt and rocks would hide most of us for the night, but we wouldn't be able to lay down. Sitting upright made it feel as if I were ready to react to anything that came along. Dev grabbed a pine needle that stuck out of the dirt near his face and began to methodically split it into pieces.
"I had a flashback." He met my gaze. "Back there. That's why I acted so weird. It's been happening pretty often after this last deployment. Based on the intense circumstances tonight, I think it's gotten worse. Like my body recognizes when I'm back in that fight-or-die position and runs back. I'm sorry."
I recalled the haze in his eyes and his attempts to reiterate my existence. The wordflashbackhelped it click back into place. Hearing the confirmation sent a shudder through me. He looked over the stream, then shook his head softly.
"I'm not sure what my triggers are yet," he continued. "I've seen a professional to help get myself out of the flashbacks, but only had a chance for two visits before I got my leave. They still rear up despite some initial work to keep them at bay. Mostly in dreams. Sometimes in situations like this. I still can't peg exactly what starts them, but . . ."
He trailed away and I wondered what he was going to say, but prevented. A thousand questions filled my mind, starting with,what happened to hurt you so deeply?Andwhen were you going to tell me?
If we hadn't experienced this horrible night, would he have let me in on his secret? Would I have ever known that he suffered? Maybe not, because Devin and I didn't owe each other that anymore. The silent give-and-take ended when he left and our friendship stopped so suddenly.
But did it have to continue like that? Couldn't friends pick back up where they left off?And they always leave,Mama whispered, which engaged the real question.
Did I trust Devin?
"I'm sorry, Dev," I whispered to silence the other voice. "That's . . . I'm sorry it's happened to you. I would never wish that on anyone."
"Thanks." He swallowed. "Me too. It might happen again tonight, which is why I wanted to tell you."
"What can I do?"
He let out a breath. "It's called grounding. You already kind of did it back there, or helped me do it. When I'm in the flashback, it feels like I'm back at a few specific moments of the deployment. I say things to ground myself back in reality. Things that remind me where I am. They reiterate that I'm not there so I can eventually work out of the confusion."
"Like when you asked me if I was real?"
His nostrils flared and he nodded. For a moment, he looked as if he would say something, but his lips sealed shut. Finally, he said, "I'm not ready to tell you everything about that deployment. Maybe I never will. But it was hell over and over again. One of the most difficult postings we've had." His fingers curled into a tight fist and bitterness edged his tone. "Over forty men died there before the government finally agreed to leave it so we didn’t have to fight and die anymore."
Unable to say a word, I just reached over and took his hand. The touch seemed to give him courage. He looked over at me. His gaze dropped to my lips, then skated away. His voice returned to the melodic singsong of before.
"Although every day had a question mark on it over there, there were three times I really thought I would die. Those are the flashbacks I have now. They haunt me the most, although sometimes I have memories that surface out of nowhere. Like pictures in my mind, when I'm walking or in line at a restaurant. It's unpredictable. Each instance when I thought it was my last day, I . . ."
He faltered. A troubled expression crossed his face and he tightened his fingers around mine. I wanted to pull him close. My heart longed to draw him into my arms and soothe all that frustration from his eyes. But I froze because I knew Devin. He needed to get this out and he wouldn't do that unless he could look into my eyes.
"I saw you."
My eyebrow rose. "Me?" I whispered.
"Each time." His voice became strained. "Each time I thought I might die, I saw you. You just looked . . . worried. Concerned. Angry, even. Like you came to say goodbye. But you never spoke to me. That's why I was confused when you said something tonight."
His fingers felt hot against my suddenly cold ones. The words played over and over in my mind.I saw you. I saw you.Devin and I had always had a more intense connection than most people expected, but this was something else. I licked my lips, speechless for several seconds.
"Wh-what did I do?"
Devin let out a long breath, then faltered. "I . . . You . . ."
I put my free hand on his arm. "You don't have to tell me, Dev. It wasn't a fair question. Keep going."
His eyes closed in relief, which only deepened my desire to know. "So far, you haven't been in my flashbacks. It's how I ground myself. If I don't see you, then it's not real and I'm not there. So when I saw you tonight, you sort of mixed with the flashback and I was . . . confused. Worried. It's like a strange merging of past and present. Sometimes I feel the danger and the fear, even though I know I'm not at that place. Sometimes, I can see the memory play out in front of me, like a movie. That's why I asked if you were real and whether you werehere. Because at that place in Afghanistan, when I thought I was about to die, you didn't speak to me. Tonight, you did. It convinced me that it was just a flashback."
The crack of my heart would have been audible if my heart had words. I didn't move my gaze off of his. He pushed through.
"If it happens again, which I hope it doesn't but it probably will, do what you did. Help me ground and get me back to reality by telling me where I am. Tell me what we're doing. Give me concrete details until I'm fully back. In those moments, I need to know what's real and what isn't. If you don't," he added quickly and with a spurt of fear, "I might get too far into the memory. I could hurt you. I haven't yet, I can normally get myself out of it." Agony etched into his features. "But Icould,"he added softly.
I squeezed his hand. "You won't, Dev. You never would."
He leaned forward until our foreheads touched. So many questions filled my mind, but not even they could distract me from the smell of him. The warmth of his body next to mine. Without him, I would have been out here alone.
