Chapter 3

Nick stood almost open-mouthed, at Jarrod's deformity, yes, but almost as much at his angry, nasty words. This is the war. This is why if you even remotely think you're going to go, I'm going to stop you. Nick hadn't expected the words at all. "What makes you think I want to go?"

"I know you," Jarrod said. "You'd want to go because you can't pass up a fight and because I went. You can't pass up a chance to parry with me. But you're going to pass this one up. You're not going to war, ever. I won't let you."

Nick was both thunderstruck and angry. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"Your brother," Jarrod said. "Your brother without an arm. Your brother who saw the elephant and saw it run over everyone and everything around him. Your brother who doesn't know what the hell he's going to do with himself anymore because he only has one arm. I won't let you go, Nick. I'll beat you up with my one arm, and I won't let you go."

Nick fumbled for words. "Why are you bringing this up now? Why are you saying this now?"

"To let you know where we stand."

Now Nick's anger was getting the better of him. "And just how are you going to stop me? You'll be back in San Francisco turning into a lawyer. If I want to go – "

"I'm not going back to San Francisco," Jarrod said. "I'm not going to be a lawyer."

Nick was ready to burst. "What? Why not? Because you lost an arm? What the hell does that have to do with it?"

Jarrod turned to face Nick head on. "When I told my firm I was leaving to go fight for the Union, they gave me a good attaboy and told me BUT – if you are wounded, if you come back maimed, we won't train you as a courtroom lawyer. Contracts, land records, all right, but you'll never go into a courtroom."

The word "maimed" made Nick angry at Jarrod's law firm now, even angrier than he was at Jarrod. "That's crazy."

"Nobody likes looking at deformed people, Nick. They feel horrified and at the same time they feel sympathetic. My firm is afraid that maimed lawyers could draw too much sympathy with juries, especially maimed soldiers," Jarrod said. "Convictions could get overturned, jury awards could get reduced or reversed. One-armed courtroom lawyers are a complication and a distraction and aren't worth the court's time."

"They told you that?"

Jarrod nodded. "And I knew it anyway. Have you ever seen a lawyer with one arm, or a blind lawyer, or one on crutches?"

Nick hadn't seen many lawyers, period. But – "They told you that and you still went off to war?"

"I had to," Jarrod said. "And maybe I was naïve, thinking I was invincible. That's you, too, Nick. You think you're invincible, but you're not. That's why I'll do whatever it takes to stop you from going if you get the notion."

Nick forgot about himself for the moment. He thought about his brother. "You're not gonna be a lawyer?"

Jarrod shook his head. "I'm not gonna be a lawyer."

"But you could do contracts and the family's work – "

"I have no interest if I can't do courtroom work, Nick. I'd be a glorified clerk. That's not what I want."

"Well, what do you want?" Nick asked. "You gotta want something."

Jarrod sighed. He almost said he didn't want anything anymore, but that wasn't really true. He just didn't know what he wanted. He only knew what he couldn't have - all the dreams he'd had before the horrific scenes he saw that day in Maryland, before he lost his arm. "I don't know, Nick. That's why you can't be like me. That's why you can't go to war."

Nick didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. Jarrod had said almost too much for this fifteen-year-old to handle. Nick ended up saying, "What can I help you with tonight?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Nothing. I can take care of myself."

"Do you want me to help you unpack?"

Jarrod shook his head again. "I can do that."

Jarrod was so drained it was alarming. Everything that had just come out of him was unplanned. He hadn't intended to say any of this to Nick or anyone else tonight, but it just spilled out. Maybe he shouldn't have let it out to a fifteen-year-old, but he and Nick had always been honest and close and maybe it had to be Nick it came out to. Maybe he should have been expecting it to happen this way. Maybe he should have known that all of his pain would come spilling out whether he wanted it to or not.

Nick fumbled. Maybe he was only fifteen, but he adored his older brother, and he too realized they had always been honest and close. He ended up saying the only thing he could think of. "I'm here for you, Jarrod. You always said you'd be here for me. Well, I'll be here for you, too."

Jarrod almost couldn't keep the floodgates closed. The catch in his throat gave him away. "Thanks, Nick. Let me get some rest. Tomorrow – tomorrow I can start thinking again."

Nick tentatively reached for his brother's shoulder, and he consciously put his hand on the shoulder that no longer had an arm. It felt awkward, horrible, but Nick left his hand there and gently squeezed.

Jarrod just nodded.

Nick left his older brother then, and realized once he got out into the hall that he was shaking. He made his way back down to the library and found his parents there. They were sitting together on the sofa, not talking when he came in. They looked up. They saw his face.

"What?" Victoria asked. "What is it?"

Nick fumbled. "Jarrod's not going back to San Francisco. He says he's not gonna be a lawyer."

"What?!" Tom said, jumping up.

"He says that firm he worked for warned him before he went away that if he came back maimed – " Nick stumbled on the word. "That if he came back maimed, they wouldn't train him as a courtroom lawyer. Something about maimed lawyers being a problem for juries, I don't quite get it. But he says if he can't be a courtroom lawyer, he doesn't want to be a glorified clerk."

"He told you all this?"

"He didn't want to. It just came out. He's hurting. He's hurting bad. We have to do something."

Victoria jumped up, prepared to head for the door, but Tom stopped her. "No, Torie, leave him alone tonight."

"But – "

"You were right to begin with, Torie. He's upset because he's tired and he's home after nearly two years and he's overwhelmed," Tom said. "Let him rest now. We can let this go for a while, till he's better able to talk about it."

"Well, what are we going to do?" Victoria said. "He wanted to be a lawyer. If he can't be a lawyer, we have to help him find something else he can be."

Tom looked at Nick, who looked back a bit vacantly. Tom could tell Nick wasn't really up to talking about this tonight, either. Jarrod had dumped a load onto him. "We don't need answers tonight," Tom said. "It's not something we can answer for him. We can only help him figure it out, but you were right to begin with. Not right now. Not tonight."

Victoria said, "Of course." But she was his mother. For all her calming words to Tom earlier about giving Jarrod time to adjust, it tore at her to think he was upstairs alone, thinking his dreams were all gone with that arm that wasn't there anymore. She wanted to be with him, to talk to him, calm him, comfort him.

But Tom said, "He's not our little boy anymore, Victoria. He's a man with man-sized problems and man-sized decisions to make. We can help him, but we can't force him. And tonight we best leave him to rest."

Victoria nodded. "Of course. Of course."

Upstairs, Jarrod laid himself down on his bed. It was completely unfamiliar to him after all these years of school and war, but it was better than cold hard ground or a rocking ship. But in the dark, there was no solace, nothing to ease him into sleep. There were only the lost dreams for his future, lost not only because of what his firm had said - lost too because of the visions still with him from that day in Maryland months ago, visions of the last time he saw his arm, and visions that were even worse. Visions that tore his tirade out and sent it after Nick. Visions that sent him slamming his eyes shut in denial. Visions that kept coming anyway.