"I saw him too, Jeanie. I just saw him pacing the OR like he was worried about something or that something was going wrong. What did you see him do? Did he talk to you?"
Hawkeye and I were out in the minefields on the other side of the camp (and a good twenty minute walk) when he asked me those questions. In the meantime, we had been edging too closely to the deathly beauty of war and picnicking on dinner not made by the cook. Dean had recently sent me a package of wine and cheese and it arrived while we were in the OR. Well, Daddy had obtained the items from Headquarters Seoul and passed to my brother, who sent it to me with some good wishes. With these goodies, I wanted some time with the person who was supposed to be my fiancé and continue down the road of normalcy. Hawkeye, still trying to do the same and remaining as silent as a grave, agreed to the date readily when the package came and I asked to share it with him, hungry for some action after the hurt.
However, words failed to come to us about Margaret as we sat there on the blanket, glasses full of the best wine there was (aged twenty years and Charles was jealous we weren't sharing with him) and cheese sliced into bite sized pieces. We had some small talk, like about how our family members were doing and maybe the weather, and then Hawkeye perked up my interest by mentioning Henry, which is something he doesn't talk about often. After Henry died, Hawkeye has been quiet about it, as if mourning our now dead commanding officer was the best course of action and only tried giving tribute to the bar created when Frank was CO of the camp.
"I…I saw him at the back of the bus," I admitted with some hesitation, sipping from my glass and savoring the taste of real aged wine. "He spoke to me, saying that there was wounded in the compound. And he then he went, 'What, Jeanie? It looks like you've seen a ghost.' Or it was something like that. He then kinda disappeared and the next time I saw him was in the OR, like he belonged there or something. He didn't bother to talk to me afterward. He did pace, going through all the men that passed him without knowing anything. You're right though, Hawkeye. Henry Blake was there with us and he was very worried about something happening."
"Why would he come back to us though?" Hawkeye mused, as if this was normal conversation. "Henry can't haunt. He doesn't know how to or is too modest to even try."
I blinked back tears quickly as I put my glass down on a flat rock next to me. I then sat up, just aching to be in Hawkeye's arms.
"He doesn't even know how to spy properly and is clumsy about it when he tried." I sniffled a little, to push away the tears, just as Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "I really don't know, Hawkeye. Whatever he came here for, he came with a purpose. There has to be some reason that Henry Blake is back here at the 4077th and that only the people who knew him at the time of his short command could see him. Colonel Potter asked me about it during my shift earlier and I explained it to him. He just shook his head, as if he didn't want to believe me, but felt like he had to, like it was an obligation or something."
"What about the wounded man he was attending? You said that Henry was watching over some wounded soldier and making sure that he was comfortable." Hawkeye saw my need quickly and pulled me to him, cuddling as he put his own glass down, emptied of wine. Then, he took mine and drank it down, which I didn't mind nor cared about.
"Sergeant Hendrix doesn't remember anything but Henry patting his arm gently." I wrinkled my forehead. I was remembered that I interrogated the poor man about Henry being over him and BJ had to pull me away reluctantly. "Then again, the sergeant was so close to death and could have seen him because of it."
Hawkeye did not have anything to add. It seemed like the topic was bothering him, like there was something else on his mind and it wasn't just Henry. I took that as a cue not to ask too many questions or to bring up things that I knew would hurt him.
I paused instead, thinking. "I don't know, Hawkeye. I think of my mother and how she saw ghosts of her past, present and possible future. I don't believe in much of anything, but I knew that she was telling the truth somehow and she's a lying, manipulative woman who uses religion as an excuse for everything, whether she knows it or not."
"My Dad used to see Mom or Loretta when something bad was about to happen," Hawkeye mentioned quietly, the thing that was bothering him. "If something was wrong in the family, he would see Mom walk down the main stairwell and go to the kitchen to make breakfast, as if she wasn't dead. Then, she would disappear. Loretta had been seen playing by the laurel bush a few times, calling out for me to play. When I was older, I could hear her sometimes."
I shuddered in Hawkeye's arms. Talk of his family, dead or alive, made him touchy. I didn't know what to say. I just allowed him to talk on.
"Something is bound to happen," Hawkeye continued, regardless. "You're right, Jeanie. Henry, or whoever that is, must be here for a reason."
"We don't know that," I protested.
I felt Hawkeye's finger go to my lips, almost as if to shush me and make me understand that the impossible was becoming possible. Then, he leaned forward to kiss me. He got closer and closer, as if to dispel everything from my mind –
Honk! Honk! Honk!
A jeep came up around the minefield and parked right in front of me and Hawkeye, blinding us with bright headlights as we tried to have a private moment. Whoever it was behind the wheel of the vehicle, honking the horn, I was going to kill, no matter who it is, although I had an idea that it was Dean. Hawkeye and I had asked for privacy and we expected it, even when we were shading our eyes to the offender.
Who wanted to disturb us at such a time?
"Who's the Peeping Tom who keeps interrupting my dates?" Hawkeye yelled out, inquiring the same thing that I was in my mind. I was already imagining which person it was and killing said older brother three or four times with my bare hands.
"That's my sister you have in your hands, Hawkeye, so you'd better be careful of what you say and do. At this point, I could strangle you with my own hands, but I'll leave that up to Jeanie. However, the next time I see her drinking because of you, she won't be able to stop me." Showing himself finally, Dean left the jeep on, but hopped out of the driver's seat, a gun in his hands and a helmet on, with two extra in his other hand.
"Older brother, what is the meaning of this?" I nearly screeched like a Banshee as he put his gun away. "We're fine. We're making up. We're talking. I only drank because I was upset over more things than I tell you in person and letters. You didn't need to come looking for me."
"I did need to look for you two captains, on the orders of Colonel Potter," Dean replied, looking severely at me and lording over as my older sibling. He was also warning me, all on one facial expression, that he was serious and his words carried worth to them. "Enemy troopers have been spotted in the area and the colonel has called off all leaves and forms of entertainments until further notice. I just came back here quickly to make sure that this unit is secured and ready to go mobile if necessary. Then, the 43rd will be moving out again and heading back north. We only came back here to make sure that the 4077th was still standing, but I can see that the fire has yet to be burned out."
"It's not like Rome was collapsed in a day, Dean," Hawkeye responded to all of the military nonsense that I never heard from my brother before, "nor was it built in a day. It didn't even take long for it to burn to the ground as many played with their fiddles. Now, what the name of that tune again?"
"Hawkeye, shush," I finally said to his craziness, getting up and gathering our now-empty wine glasses and such and putting them back in the bag I had them in before. "Now, Dean, enemies are in the area. Are the helmets necessary?"
"Yes, little sister, because more wounded are coming in and the front lines are shifting once more. They're moving to the south, so we have to buggy if things happen the way I think they are." Dean came up to me and stopped me from cleaning up, putting his dirty hands on my face as he dropped the helmets onto the ground. "Jeanie, this is serious. Colonel Potter needs you both back soon. Radar has reported that the 8063rd is swamped, and quite literally too, and is sending some of their wounded over here."
Dean then kissed my forehead, as if it were the last time I was going to see him, and tried to appear braver than I was. "Be careful, little sister. Come into the jeep with me. You need to be scrubbed up and ready to play your part in the war."
"I don't want to anymore," I whispered in a tone so low that Hawkeye could not hear me. "I can't do this anymore."
Dean only then picked up the helmets from the ground and tossed one to Hawkeye. The other he put on my own head. "Come on, Jeanie, Hawkeye. We have to go now. You guys need to be back and I need to get moving with my men and Colonel Coner, who will not be pleased if I am late."
"Coming, Mother," Hawkeye replied jokingly as he picked up the things I dropped and jumped into the back seats of the jeep, me and my brother behind him and in the front seats before long.
Dean then put the jeep in reverse and into gear and drove crazily around the minefields before dropping us off before the colonel's office outside with a small crowd gathering and waiting for the wounded to come. Although Margaret was one of them, giving me a severe look, I ignored her and waited for the wave of wounded coming. As Hawkeye and I quickly jumped out of the jeep (our bag of goodies in Hawkeye's hands), I saw my brother waving a few men over so that they could get in and get to their destination, the front lines.
This one motion alone made me scared shitless. I was really afraid for my brother for some reason. A deep chill set into me and one that wasn't going away anytime soon. However, before Dean could drive off again (he was about to shift into the first gear), I ran to his side of the jeep and tugged his uniform. He was deciding on whether or not to ignore me and chose not to, waiting as patiently as he could to see what was wrong.
"Dean, have you seen him? Have you seen Henry around here?" I asked Dean desperately before the wheels ran over my feet. "Have you seen him like we have?"
Dean knew what I meant instantly, thank God. As he started to drive off with three more men in the jeep with him (and brushing my hand away, as if I were an insect, of little worth), he replied, "Yes, Jeanie. He came to me and only told me to be careful because he knew that my time in the summer was coming soon. I couldn't believe my own eyes and ears."
And with that, my brother was gone. Dean was gone in an instant, without a goodbye and with more questions than answers.
I just stood there, listening to the announcement coming to all in the camp. "Attention, attention all personnel! Attention! Your night dates and Supply Room meetings have now been cancelled. We have incoming wounded! All shifts are to report immediately. We're in for yet another long one, folks!"