Page 46 of Love Story
Cody could still see the horrors of the accident, still see the faces of his nameless friends calling out to him, telling him the war was a waste of his time. Telling him it wasn’t worth it.
“No!” Cody heard himself cry out. He jerked back and then opened his eyes. A flight attendant was looking straight at him. It mattered, the work they had done in Afghanistan. It did.
The woman had her hand on his shoulder. “Sir... can you hear me?”
Where was he? Cody sat up straighter, his breaths coming fast and hard, like he’d been running ten miles. “What... what happened?”
“You’re on a flight from Los Angeles, sir. You were shouting out.” She looked concerned. “A dream, maybe?”
He was on a flight. That’s right, he was headed to Louisiana to see Andi. In a quick move, he felt his arms and legs. They were still there, all but his lower left leg, which he’d lost in Afghanistan for real.
Yes, he must’ve been dreaming. Another episode. A reminder that in some ways he would never fully leave Afghanistan, never be completely removed from the day when his convoy ran over anIED, killing everyone in the vehicle but him.
All his friends from that time gone.
Cody settled himself.Deep breaths. Take deep breaths.His mind turned automatically to Philippians 4. The way he’d been trained in counseling over the past few months.Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus...
He realized then that the woman was still watching him, still worried. “Are you okay, sir?”
“I am. Thank you.” People in the rows ahead of him were turning around and looking his way. “I’m sorry. I... I must be really tired.”
Cody’s racing heart began to settle down.Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation...He turned and looked out the window and let the Scripture run through his mind again and again. It had been more than a month since his last bout. The episodes were unpredictable. He could never know when one would hit.
He adjusted his camouflage baseball cap. The one he’d gotten while he was on active duty. Maybe he needed more rest. That could be it. Another thing he’d learned in the group meetings.
“Hey there.” The voice came from beside him. Cody was sitting in an aisle seat, so he looked up and saw a soldier in full fatigues, maybe in his late twenties. The guy was headed back to his seat, probably from the restroom.
“Yes, sir?”
The man took another step and faced Cody. “Army, right?” He nodded to Cody’s cap.
“Yes, sir. Served in Afghanistan.” Cody reached out his hand. “I’m Cody.”
“Beck.” The two shook. “I figured you had served.” He glanced at Cody’s prosthetic leg. “What with your injury.” The man looked straight at him. There was something otherworldly about his pale green eyes. “That dream you just had? It’s thePTSD, right? The nightmare just now?”
“Yes.” This was one of the worst parts ofPTSD. The inability to control the nightmares. He hated the question, but there was only one way to answer it. “They won’t leave me alone. Even now. Years later.”
“You’re going to be okay. I wanted to tell you.” The soldier gave him an understanding smile. “Even if you still have episodes, God is with you. And they’ll fade in time. Really.”
Cody nodded. “I’ve heard that. I’m going to a support group.” He sighed. “Praying God takes it away. The nightmares. The fear. They’re tough, for sure.”
“Yeah, they are.” The soldier tipped his cap. “Keep praying. God has good things ahead for you.”
“Thank you.” Cody watched the guy head back up the aisle.
Strange,Cody thought. The entire conversation was as if God, Himself, had sent the guy. Just to give Cody a healthy dose of encouragement. Which he definitely needed. Because sure, the wicked dreams were exhausting and vivid. They made Cody feel like he couldn’t breathe. But the nightmares were just part ofPTSD.
It was the other part that made life hard. The part he had kept from Andi after they got engaged the second time. The way he couldn’t eat at a restaurant unless he had his back against a wall, or the way crowds sometimes made him extra quiet. Even the crowds at his own football games. The noise would pick up and all Cody could see were the people. Masses of people. And suddenly he would become keenly aware of his surroundings, and less aware of the people he loved.
People like Andi.
She’d been around him at moments like that, and he hadn’t explained what was happening. Why he was quiet or anxious or distant. No wonder she’d broken things off. Cody looked out the window again and thought about that second engagement. He could remember feeling how all of his life had led up to that trip to Bloomington.
She thought they were having a birthday party for her mother. Instead Cody had been planning a surprise engagement party for Andi. He could remember feeling how all of his life had led up to that trip to Bloomington.
Now all of his life led up to this one. The trip to Louisiana.
He looked at the upsides of a hundred white puffy clouds. He could remember Andi asleep beside him. Back then, all he could think was how in seventy-two hours—on a Saturday afternoon—despite the struggles between them—he would ask Andi Ellison to be his wife. Again.
