We'll Go No More a Roving

Of course, the Internet wasn't available when we were at sea and it's important to keep a constant stream of posts going. So, I'd write down my thoughts and then uploaded them in batches from a hotel when we landed.

That's why I was spending the night at the Rodos Niohori Elite Suites, while La Legion had demanded the privilege of being the last line of defense on our boat. I'd fixed him some special rations for his services and checked into the Niohori.

It was just steps from old town. So, I made my way down to the Karpathos to hang out there. That place is a genuine outdoor Greek cafe and it was ground zero for all of the tourist traffic.

I wasn't trolling for female companionship. That ship had sailed a long time ago. In fact, I hadn't had sex since the night before I left for Fort Campbell.

Let me stop you right there!! I'm really not a freak. I never saw a woman except servants for the first twelve years and the events of my return more-or-less soured me on romance for life.

Still, once in a while I liked to be around happy people. So, I was watching the crowds as they continued to make their way up Sokratous Street. Most of them were going back to the cruise ship docks.

Then there was a ripple of interest. The guys at the little tables began to crane their necks, which was natural. They were Greek men. They looked exactly like the animals on the Serengeti when the lion makes an appearance.

All of the fuss was because a truly beautiful woman was strolling past. The woman was accompanied by an equally stunning teenage girl, who was most probably her daughter. I might have been celibate. But I wasn't quite dead. So, I checked both of them out.

They were obviously Americans, based on their clothing and the way they walked. The youngster was in her late teens, or early twenties, with ultra-long legs, a lithe, long-waisted body, a pair of round little buns and long sun-streaked auburn hair. Her face was teenage-wet-dream, model gorgeous.

The older woman was perhaps mid-forties. She too was dark haired. But she had it in one of those expensive bobs that all the blue-blooded women wear. It framed an exceptionally angelic face. Everything about them screamed MONEY.

While the girl was nubile the older woman put new meaning to the term brick-shithouse. She was shorter, perhaps five three, but she had perfect rounded hips, a glorious ass and the kind of boobs that would have launched a thousand ships back in the good-old-days.

I have to admit that I was leering, just like every other guy in the café. The women certainly sensed the male attention as they passed. The older woman turned and glanced in our direction. It was the sort of casual look that females do when they know they're being ogled.

Yikes!! caught in the act of perving!! My eyes were locked on a spot a bit south of the older woman's face. So, I hastily redirected my glance up and I was hit by absolute and overwhelming shock.

The woman was Jane!!

My brain hadn't quite processed what my eyes had seen. That came an instant later and the reaction was like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket. It was a jolt of electricity that caused a metallic taste in my mouth, made the hair on the back of my neck stand up and goosebumps appear on my arms.

I flinched violently backward and almost fell out of the chair. Of course, that attracted Jane's full attention. She nodded vehemently, like she had finally confirmed something. Then she began to walk toward me.

I would have fled screaming from the scene. But I was trapped by the surrounding tables and the trunk of the damn fig tree. She stood four feet away, both hands on her spectacular hips looking intently at me. I was recoiling from her like she was a ten-foot diamondback about to strike.

Then she said bitterly, "Aren't you going to invite me to sit down Paul, or Jim, or whatever you're calling yourself now."

The hottie was standing behind her. She had followed Jane into the café and was looking curiously at both of us. I just sat there horrified, making inarticulate noises and gesturing wildly with my hands. My little voice was screaming, "I can't handle this!!"

Jane said, voice still bitter, "I brought your daughter all this way to meet you. The least you can do is invite us to sit down."

That did it. The world narrowed to a pinprick, and I passed out colder than a mackerel. Fortunately, I had backed my chair up so far that I was wedged into the fig tree. So, I just slumped down face first on the table rather than falling over.

I came back to reality, with my head resting in a plate of pita and olives wondering where the fuck I was. Then it hit me, and I nearly passed out again. I raised my head distressed, a piece of pita still clinging to my cheek. Her beloved face was looking back at me truly pissed off.

I hastily brushed the pita off and said feebly, "I'm sorry Jane. I never meant to intrude in your life."

She hissed angrily, "Intrude!! What the fuck do you mean intrude??!! You WERE my life. That is, until you chose to disappear from it."

Her temper was getting out of control and she was getting louder The girl, who she claimed was my daughter, was looking at me like I was something that she'd stepped in.

Everybody else in that little cafe was enjoying the floor show.

I got my wits about me enough to say, "Can we talk in private?"

Jane huffed, "Are you suggesting that famous boat of yours. It seems like we are always working out things on a boat."

I said puzzled, "How did you know about the boat?" Yes indeed... it was totally off the point, but I still wasn't tracking very well.

Jane looked at me like I was the dumbest person she'd ever met and said, "You talk about it all the time in your blog."

*****

The walk to the boat was in total angry silence. I had no idea what was going on. So, I just lurched along like a cast member from a zombie movie. The two of them must have come in on the cruise ship that was docked on one side of the mole. I was in the marina on the other side.

It was a ten-minute walk to the boat. I was blasted back to the last time we had done that walk. Jane had been just as angry. Buster greeted us as we boarded. He hadn't expected me back this early. He took a look at my two friends and said, "But Monsieur, who are these lovely women?"

I patted his big shaggy head and said, "It's too complicated to explain mon-ami."

I turned to Jane and the girl and gestured into the cabin, "Perhaps we should go down there to talk. It will be a lot more private." Jane nodded grimly in assent. And brushed angrily past me.

There was the usual uncomfortable jostling as three people and a big dog made their way down a narrow stairway. The 41 is a cruiser so the cabin was wide and luxurious. The two women selected a seat together on the banquette. I sat in a chair opposite. La Legion lay uneasily between us pant-pant-drool-drool.

"Icy" is the only word that I could use to describe the ambiance. Jane was staring at me with antagonism, seasoned by longing. I was somewhere between confusion and denial. The girl was looking at me with scornful curiosity.

I finally broke the silence. The obvious question was, "How did you find out that I was still alive?"

Jane looked at me with condescension and said, "I don't know how or why you faked your death. But if you wanted to vanish forever, you shouldn't have been all over the internet."

She added angrily, "My ex-husband was the person who alerted me. He said everybody on the Hill was reading your blog. Neither of us linked up the name, since you obviously changed it. But I'm still interested in veterans. So, I took a look. The second I saw your picture I knew it was you, even after all these years."

Two thoughts hit me simultaneously. The first was, "Damn!! I never thought about the picture." The second and much more overwhelming one was, "Did she just say ex-husband??!!" Was that a heavenly choir of angels?

Jane was still talking. She said, "I knew you were in Rhodes because you wrote about it on Monday. We flew in from DC via Rome this morning. The only problem was tracking you down."

She added with a grimace, " We were checking hotels when we just stumbled on you in that tavern. I suppose that's some kind of karma."

Then she paused. I could see the tears in her eyes. She said sadly, "I had to find out. Why did you leave me? Why did you abandon us?"

It was probably one of the big trawlers passing the boat. But my world literally rocked. I said feeling like my heart was about to explode, "How much do you know about my story?"

Jane leaned forward dramatically, arms on knees, face not more than a foot from mine and stared at me intently. Her amber eyes were awash with misery. The girl was still reclining back, arms crossed looking stubbornly unfriendly. Buster even raised his head. He could sense the tension.

Jane said, "All I know is what they told me. You were killed in some secret mission in Iraq and that your body was sent home for burial. I cried for a solid week and I had so much Valium in me that I don't remember much about the funeral, just them handing me a folded flag. You were gone such a short time I didn't even get the chance to tell you I was pregnant."

Then the dam broke and she collapsed back weeping. I didn't have the slightest idea what to do. Somehow holding her just seemed so totally inappropriate. Even worse, my mind was having a hard time coping with the emotional overload.

I had sat in isolation for twelve long years thinking of this moment. Then I had spent almost six and-a-half years knowing that it would never happen. The psychic whiplash was tearing me apart.

The girl gave me a reproachful glance, as she gathered her mother to her ample chest and said, "I'm ashamed to be your daughter." That statement just poured a little gasoline on the fire. It's beyond me how I survived those first few minutes without stroking out.

Jane had stopped sobbing and was getting herself back together. Buster rose, walked over and leaned against my leg; the way big dogs do to connect. I could visualize him saying, "I'm here for you mon-ami."

Everybody turned to look at me. This was the second time in my life that I had to get it right. So, I started off in a measured tone. I said, "They didn't lie to you. I was shot down and captured by the Iraqis but there was no way our guys would have known that. There was a big explosion. They were certain I was dead."

I started to choke up as I recounted that dark night, "The helicopter snapped in half when we hit. I think that the impact ejected me through the backside of the cockpit. I rolled down a dune, still strapped in my seat. That saved my life, because I ended up just outside a fireball."

I got my emotions back under control as I added, "Jimmy, my gunner was still in the aircraft burned to a crisp. They found another charred body with the wreck. It must have been one of the Iraqi casualties. There were bodies everywhere, They thought it was me. That's what they buried."

Jane stopped crying and looked at me intently. If anything, the emotional level in the room ratcheted up another notch. I said, trying to keep my voice even, "It was a desert. A massive battle was fought there. The bodies were unrecognizable. But they were in a logical spot. Shit happens."

I paused while the two women digested my words, "I was kept as a prisoner of war, or maybe strictly speaking a souvenir for the Baath Party. That was right up until our guys showed up in Baghdad twelve years later and freed me."

The woman both stared at me with disbelief slowly morphing into anguish.

I added, "The Iraqis wisely isolated me from all contact with the outside world. Now I know why. They would have been in a world of hurt diplomatically if our people found out they hadn't returned me after their surrender."

I said with cynicism dripping off every word, "Needless to say I was also an embarrassment to everybody on our side. It kind-of made them look bad leaving one of their own in Iraqi hands."

Then I added the punch line. I said, "When I got back, they told me that you were remarried with two kids." Jane gasped. She knew what THAT news would have done to me.

I looked into her eyes trying to project my love and understanding. I said as gently as I could, "They said you'd done a courageous job of overcoming your grief. I was proud of the way you moved on with dignity. That's the sign of a strong person, which I know you are."

Jane went back to weeping. She said, "I knew that you wouldn't want me to spend my life playing the grieving victim. So, I did the best I could. Ralph was a decent guy. That is, while he was courting me; and I thought that he loved our daughter. I tried to be a good wife to him. But you were always there, haunting my dreams."

I had the image of Jane living married life with another man; the close familiarity the bantering, the conversations, the little loving touches, the interesting adventures and intimate moments. The pangs of jealousy almost killed me. But then again, that was in the past. She was here now and after almost two decades it was like we had just met.

I waited while my wife gathered herself. I wanted both women to see that what I was saying was my honest attempt to be as positive and practical as Jane had been.

I said, "Everybody told me how hard it was for you to move on. I knew that I couldn't just horn back into your life after all that trauma, especially with two little kids. I loved you. It wouldn't be fair."

Then I paused and nodded in the direction of my daughter, "And of course, I didn't know about you."

I finished meaningfully, "More importantly, the U.S. government wanted me to stay dead. So, they pretty-much bribed me to go away."

Jane could understand that. She knew how the game was played. Embarrassing people and inconvenient things never see the light of day in DC; at least if you're the right folks. I added contritely, "I even went by your place to confirm for myself. Your apparent happiness almost killed me. So, I left, and I never intended to return. I'm a selfish person. I couldn't face what I'd lost."

Jane muttered under her breath angrily, "I KNEW it was you. I just didn't trust my instincts."

It had been excruciating getting it all out. We sat there in exhausted silence. All I could hear was the ticking of the navigational clock and the slapping of the little nighttime waves against the hull.

I shrugged, turned to the girl, extended my hand and said, "Hi, I'm Paul. I hear I'm your daddy."

She launched herself across the distance between us and flung her arms around my neck weeping.

Buster barked once and began to growl a warning. He thought she was attacking me.

I said, "Relax big guy. This is my daughter."

He said, "Du rien. Felicitations mon-ami, mon erreur" and went back to slobbering on my floor.

*****

We got very little sleep that night. First and foremost, I wanted Jane to tell me everything about the gorgeous creature, with her head on my shoulder, arms hugging my neck.

Her name was Helen. She was named after my mother. The family called her "Hilley."

Helen was conceived the night I left. But Jane hadn't been aware that she was pregnant until well after I had been buried. That was how brief a time I'd been away.

Hilley was a stunningly beautiful twenty-year old, with Jane's dusky complexion, long thick sun streaked auburn hair and my blue eyes. Those eyes reflected a depth of humanity and a level of intelligence that was awe inspiring.

Hilley was a formidable young woman, an engineering major at Cal Tech and considered by many to be next generation astronaut material. She had been in the Air Force ROTC advanced program since high school and she had already soloed in a T38.

Hilley said lovingly, "I've wanted to be just like you since I was a little girl."

Jane said fiercely, "Helen was the only part of you I had left. She saved me from total breakdown. Having her and taking care of her was the most therapeutic thing I could have done. Eventually I started to feel like I might have a life again. That's when Ralph came along."

I knew it was coming. So, I braced myself.

Jane looked uncomfortable as she said, "I met him at one of his fundraisers. My family members are big donors of his. He pursued me relentlessly."

Then she looked at me, willing me to understand, "Everybody told me that I needed to start living my life again and Ralph was a decent guy, very suave and good looking. He and Helen hit it off. So, I eventually told him I would marry him."

She added. "It was a mistake, almost from the beginning. Life with him was awful."

Hilley added contemptuously, "Yeah he was a real control freak."

Tears were running down Jane's fabulous cheekbones as she said, "I tried to be a good wife. I gave him two children. But I simply couldn't love him like I did you."

I flinched. I know how babies are made. Even the passing thought of Jane in sweaty embrace with another man drove an icepick into my heart. Admittedly it was hard to fault her. Since, I happened to be dead at the time. But nonetheless, the thought of Jane sharing her remarkable passion with another man rocked me to the core.

Jane looked at me intently as she said, "It's been almost twenty years and you are still the only man I'll ever love. I even got some professional help about it. But unfortunately, you were lodged too deeply in my heart to EVER be pried out by the mere passage of time."

Then she got a bitter look and said, "Maybe he sensed it. Because, from the beginning he was very possessive and domineering. I endured it for a few years, just trying to be a better wife. But he kept getting more-and-more jealous and demanding."

She gave a little sob and added, "I never should have remarried."

I thought seriously??!! Einstein was trying to force this intelligent and strong-willed woman to love him by mistreating her. How stupid can you get? I was long gone. I was no threat to his marriage. The only person threatening his marriage was the moron himself.

I realized that Jane had endured something like the same hopeless isolation that I had. An unhappy marriage can be as confining as a prison cell, especially for a woman. I could escape captivity. But the only way out for Jane was divorce and that meant failure.

Jane paused meaningfully and added, "In the end, every word that came out of his mouth was toxic, both to me and the kids. I finally gathered my courage and confronted him. Do know what he said?"

I shook my head mystified. I had no idea why anybody would blow up a marriage to Jane.

She looked at me like she was delivering a punch line and said, "He told me that he was sick and tired of competing with my dead husband."

She shrugged and said bitterly, "There was no way I could live with a guy that insecure. He was the here-and-now and you were long gone."

Jane added sincerely, "I didn't flaunt my feelings for you, and I tried my best to make him happy. I gave him all the respect and affection I had in me. But he was right, of course. I DID love you more."

She finished with, "I finally faced the fact that I couldn't stay in a marriage that was threatened by a ghost and I divorced him."

Then Jane got an "a-ha!!" look and said, "When did they find you?"

I said, "They freed me on April 7th. I'll never forget that day. I got back to the VA Medical Center in the fourth week of April 2003."

A huge thundercloud passed across her face. She said angrily, "He knew!! The son-of-a-bitch knew!! That's the exact point in time when things started getting really unbearable. It had been bad for a long time before that. But he got obsessed with controlling my life down to the last second."

The lightbulb went on in my head. Power corrupts... it's an old saying and it's true. My problem was that Ralphie had a lot of self-doubt and he was in a position to tilt the table.