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I watch his hand clutch at his temple.
“The tea she gave me…it had opium tincture in it. I can see her reaching for that woman’s stomach. I can see her eyes… and they were wide. It was like a dream. Not just the tea. I saw her, but I couldn’t…” His eyes find mine. “Anyway,” his gaze flicks down, and then back to mine— “there was a backup detonator. She grabbed it. I saw her going for it, should have known, but…” He shakes his head. He drops his head down in a bow.
“They told me that,” he rasps. “When I joined the Unit, someone warned me…” He shakes his head, like whatever he’s trying to convey is just too much, too much effort. “She was young, Gwen. She used to listen to this band...Icona Pop and…Taylor Swift. She had this iPod.” I see a tear drip down his cheek as he looks into my eyes. “Sometimes I think…I wonder why she said my eyes were different. If you notice…look. Sometimes in pictures. Older guys, the people just like me.” He swallows. “Those old guys’ eyes look hard and cold. Almost…dead. To people who don’t know, but…they aren’t. They’re just sad,” he whispers.
He lies down on his side, his head on a pillow. I lie in front of him and pull my knees up toward my chest. My shins touch Barrett’s thighs. I reach out and stroke his hair.
“She liked my eyes. I guess…they weren’t sad yet.”
I see something twinkle: another little tear that falls under the lights. His leaking eyes lock onto mine again.
“You know…they told me that. In training. You can go…bad…one of two ways, a sniper can go bad,” he murmurs. “Either you can’t shoot or you go nuts and shoot up the block. I just…couldn’t shoot her.” His voice cracks as his eyes shut. “She detonated the bomb. I found out later IS made her do it. They had her sister-in-law.” He stops to swallow, takes his time before he goes on, in a lower voice.
“She had blocked the roof off. Stacked a bunch of shit in the stairwell. But they knew I was up there. They’d given her the tincture for me, hoping they could fuck my aim up. I had to get away, I ended up jumping…off the roof. And when I landed— When I landed,” he sighs deeply, “there was this IED. I don’t know…my head hit something. Or…” he shakes his head, “maybe just the blast. I was fucking out of it. That’s how I got the brain bleed, the shrapnel. Breck came. We could track each other. He had to get me out. We made it to the Bradley before he got…hit with this bomb,” his voice cracks, “…it had acid in it.”
My stomach clenches, and I wrap my hand around his. His hand squeezes tightly.
“They had pushed me in…so I was safe.” His fingers squeeze more tightly, so tight I almost cry out. I feel his body start to shake again, and I scoot over closer to him. When I wrap my arm around his shoulders and his head, he curls into me. “It got him…kind of in the back,” he rasps. “They got him in and…his skin was…hissing.”
When he speaks again, his voice has dropped down to a whisper. “The phosphorous was eating…through his skin…and he was trying…to smile. He was a tough son of a bitch, my buddy Breck.”
I feel him swallow, and I wait a long time without moving, but he doesn’t speak again. He just lies there breathing on his side, his body stiff, his shoulders shaking, and there’s nothing I can do.
I stroke his hair. “Oh, Barrett. I’m so sorry.”
“I just…can’t ever stop thinking about it.” His body shakes against mine.
“No. Of course not.” I cradle his head against my chest. “Of course you can’t.” I hold him closer to me, speaking quietly near his ear. “It makes so much sense—and no one could. You know that, right?” I cup his jaw. “No one could forget that. It gets deep inside you…because you’re human. Even though you were a warrior, you’re a human being. And you’re strong, but you have a heart. It’s not supposed to be strong, you know? It has to be vulnerable to work.”
“I know.” The words are soft and tiny. His hand grips my side.
“But you’re tired.” I smooth his hair back, press my lips against his temple. “It’s so tiring. I know.” My mind spins with dead ends; nothing I can say will help him, and the hopeless feeling makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Finally I think of something. Something small. “You know what? Nightmares don’t happen in the first hour of sleep. You’ve never woken up then, right?”
After a second, he shakes his head.
“Do you want to take a nap? One hour on the nose?”
I can feel him hesitate, his body pausing.
“I’ll stay with you. I’ll hold you,” I whisper.
Barrett turns over on his stomach, wraps an arm behind his head. He takes a few deep breaths. Then he rolls onto his side. His eyes are on my face. I can feel them burn into me, even though he doesn’t touch me.
Finally he reaches out with his left hand, closing it over both of mine. His thumb strokes me. With every stroke, I watch his eyes grow heavier.
TWENTY ONE
GWENNA
December 31, 2011
“That is seriously what you did while I was showering.”
Jamie blushes. “It was totally impromptu. I was getting back from the general store, and he had just dropped off this giant tin of roasted nuts for Mom and Dad. We started talking and I threw a snowball at him. Then we somehow ended up building this adorable little snowman. He’s so cute and so funny. Niccolo, not the snowman.” Jamie brushes at her snow-damp shirt sleeve, and then looks back up at me. “I don’t know John since we don’t live here full-time, but I’ve never even heard of Niccolo. Apparently he’s thirty.”
I arch my brows. “So what does he like…do or whatnot? Does he have a job?”
