Wounds Pt. 01

* * * * *

The next evening, Janelle waited anxiously for Tom to get home so she could go to work. Tom was supposed to be home by 530PM. Her shift started at 6PM, and it was that late only because Mr. Cook knew she couldn't get childcare any earlier than that.

At 615PM, Tom's car pulled into the apartment complex; he had a six-pack with him.

Janelle thought about stopping him from drinking while watching Mia. She decided to be silent on the matter. Mia was going to eat dinner, take a bath, and go to bed. There wasn't much time for him to down all that beer until Mia slept.

She showed up at Bright Horse at 630PM. Mrs. Cook had to waitress for her since the tables had been filling up and she wasn't there yet. Janelle quickly got to work.

Bright Horse had been started by Mr. Cook's father and had been around long enough that its customers ranged from grandparents in their 80s to newborn grandchildren in their strollers. Occasionally, entire three generations would come in for family gatherings and half the restaurant would be occupied. Mr. Cook's family had come from Louisiana and he continued his father's tradition of offering po' boys, jambalaya, and fried chicken, but with twists from locally sourced ingredients. Fried artichokes, for example, was a customer favorite. Mrs. Cook, on the other hand, was hands down the best pie maker Janelle had known. The nearby farmlands provided delicious strawberries, blueberries, and apples. Mrs. Cook turned all of them into homemade jams and irresistible pie fillings.

Janelle loved working at Bright Horse, where the old timers mingled with the newcomers. It had a cozy family vibe that she yearned for in her own life.

Maria came in at 8PM for the pies. There were few customers by then, so she and Janelle chatted freely. Neither of them brought up the café conversation from the day before.

When it was time to close shop, Janelle saw that there was still an entire apple pie that had not been consumed. She asked Mrs. Cook what was to become of it.

"I'm very strict about the freshness of my pies." Mrs. Cook says, "But one pie is too much work to get to the food kitchens. You want to take it home?"

A thought came to Janelle's mind, "What if I bring it to the Andersons? Didn't Mrs. Anderson say her son is coming home today? Maybe I can bring this over as a welcome gift."

"That is a great idea!" Mrs. Cook said approvingly, "You are such a kind soul, Janelle."

Mrs. Cook's words warmed her heart. She wrapped up the pie and drove towards the Anderson house. It would just be a quick drop off since she didn't want Tom to get mad for her coming home later than necessary.

* * * * *

The lights inside the Anderson house were bright. She walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell. A moment later, Mrs. Anderson's face appeared.

Janelle responded to Mrs. Anderson's surprised expression by lifting the pie in her hands, "There was an entire apple pie left untouched at the Bright Horse, I thought I might bring it to your family!"

"Oh, you are so kind!" Mrs. Anderson said, but her warm greeting was mixed with unease.

Janelle waited for Mrs. Anderson to say something more. When she didn't, Janelle said, "Uhm, I should go home now to make sure Mia is in bed."

Mrs. Anderson appeared torn with emotions. At last, she said, "Please, come inside and meet Ezra. You have brought us a gift and we need to thank you."

Janelle got a sense that Mrs. Anderson was unsure of having her meet his son, but at the same time, her sense of hospitality was shaming her for letting Janelle leave immediately. "I don't need to come in, Mrs. Anderson! He had just arrived today and must be tired. I can come visit another day."

"No, please come in. Ezra will be happy to see you. I have told him about you and Mia." Mrs. Anderson had now made up her mind.

As she opened the door to let Janelle in, she lowered her voice and added, "But please, don't be alarmed by what you see. Ezra is...in pain."

The language Mrs. Anderson used was so cryptic that Janelle did not know what to expect. Her curiosity was piqued.

She followed Mrs. Anderson through the hallway and into their modest living room. Her eyes first met Mr. Anderson, who was sitting on a recliner with a stern look on his face.

"Janelle brought us a whole apple pie from Mrs. Cook." Mrs. Anderson explained.

"That's very kind of you." Mr. Anderson nodded.

Janelle's gazed moved towards the other occupant in the room.

Her eyes met a dark pair of eyes staring at her. He had dark, short cropped hair with a clean, shaven face. He was definitely Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's son, for he had his father's defined brows and cheekbones, and his mother's nose. It was like how she saw herself and Tom in Mia. She would have said he had a handsome face, if his expression did not look so dark. He was not smiling. He looked...hollow.

As Janelle traced her eyes down, her heart stopped beating. Beneath his gloomy face, he had a skinny torso that was covered by a T-shirt that appeared too big for him. Further beneath the torso, where the legs were supposed to extend out from the couch, were two stubs that ended just above where the knees would have been.

Janelle's mind raced to piece all of it together. He was a double amputee who was a Marine. The implication was obvious.

Stop looking at it! She screamed to herself in her head as she lifted her gaze to focus on his face. But there was no denying what she had seen; she failed to hide her shock.

Ezra looked back at her, knowing full well what went through her mind. He said nothing.

Mrs. Anderson broke the silence, "Ezra, this is Janelle, Mia's mother."

"Nice to meet you." Ezra finally spoke. His voice was low and devoid of emotions.

"Nice to meet you, Ezra." Janelle said.

She didn't know how she made it back to the car or even how she drove home. It was a blur. She was in such a shock that even Tom, who was usually horny and drunk by the time she got back from work, was taken aback by her ghostly expression.

"What is wrong with you?" Tom asked.

"I, uh, dropped off a pie at Mrs. Anderson and met her son." Janelle's voice trembled, "He's lost both his legs."

"Yeah?" Tom took another sip of his beer; he had consumed four of his six pack already, "Unlucky bastard."

Tom seemed not interested in having sex that night, and Janelle was relieved. She drifted from the bathroom to the bedroom after showering.

As she laid in bed, she could not get that pair of eyes out of her mind. That dark, empty, bottomless abyss she had inadvertently peered into.

She had once seen a similar pair of eyes before. She remembered what had happened to the owner of those eyes. She would never allow herself to forget.