Part Seven:
Dearest Calliope,
I love the sand. It is in a glass in my office and you are right. I had never noticed before how such a simple thing can be so incredibly awesome and enchanting. It makes me feel closer to you.
I don't get the car thing. I never did. My dad is crazy about them. My brother was. I just find driving a necessity, gets me from point A to point B. I have a boring Ford and it has four wheels and a working engine. What more do I need? Also, the independent, free thing? Where you feel you can drive anywhere? You watch the movies, don't you? The house with the cannibals, the chainsaw killer at the service station, the road that never ends… Not for me.
How can you possibly compare Disney to soap operas? They are far too superior. I love the old ones. The Jungle Book is my favourite. That is how I imagine the jungle, not the ones we see in TV documentaries, but the one with the singing bear and the talking vultures. That would be an awesome jungle. Take me to that jungle. But not to the woods. Disney does not do happy woods. Snow-white gets poisoned there. Bambi's mother… well, we know what happened to her, but they do awesome jungles.
Children never featured much in my life. Ironic? I know. I'm in peds. But in my personal life there were never children. I am the youngest, so never had little brothers or sisters. My cousins were older than me. My brother died before having children. My friends are all career-driven like me. My exes were the same. Children were never a factor. I never needed to think about that possibility. And when I do think about it... I am too selfish to share my life. I like my life as it is. I like my job. I like my friends. I like you. And I like all of them together. I've never considered expanding it more for tiny people before. I love the idea of the house and the dogs, and even chickens, because I kind of like the idea of collecting my own eggs in the morning. After all, I can only cook eggs.
Though I am trying… I have mastered the casserole. Well, it came out unburnt, and it was the right colour. But it tasted really bad. I am now being introduced to the notion of seasoning. Salt and pepper is apparently the key to good tasting food. Who knew?
My brother would try the weirdest thing on the menu, and so escargots, I guess, would be in his honour.
The sand is turning golden. It is really beautiful. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever been given.
Please be careful. It's not even months anymore until you come home. It is weeks. Mere weeks! I am excited and I am nervous. We're so close. So please be careful.
Come home.
Take care of yourself Calliope,
Missing you,
Arizona
xxxx
The brunette rubbed her thumb over the imprinted words. She looked up at the silent helicopter. She sighed. The small lanterns lit the camp like a carnival but its atmosphere was the opposite. She stood up and brushed herself off.
Dear Arizona,
We have had our toughest day yet. We lost eleven soldiers in gunfire. They thought they were in a safe zone. They trusted that they were in one. The locals opened fire. It was a massacre. The helicopters never stopped flying to us. The humvees never slowed down. It was a tough day. A really tough day and all I could think about was you. How close I am to you and being with you.
It's strong what we have. Really strong and I am terrified that when we meet it was only strong in our mind and not in reality. My heart tells me not to worry but my head makes me paranoid. I am nervous for my heart, I guess. Maybe it's from the past, maybe it's from being here for so long… maybe, it's just that some things may not happen the way we dream it.
Maybe, opposites do attract after all. I want kids. I love the idea of sharing my life with a tiny person. It's a dream, a great dream but right now it's a dream. Just a dream. I've learned since being here that everything can end in the blink of an eye. People die and all I have are dreams. The only real thing I've have is you and right now that is all I want. Yes, just weeks to go and then I have to figure out what to do next. Where do I work? Where do I live? Where do I stay? What do I do first? Actually the last question is easy, I come and see you.
And we stay away from the woods. I hate the woods. Filled with bugs and trees. I love trees. But I want them spread out not ganging up on me. I will admit that I do like The Jungle Book. I loved the songs. I used to dance along to them as a kid. I told you I love anything that I could dance to. But yeah, The Bare Necessities! I loved that, and I would start running around the living around, spinning in circles and doing fake ballet jumps whilst screeching the words out at the top of my lungs. It used to drive my mother crazy. But I did that to every single song that came on the radio or TV. There's a picture for you, chubby four year old with uneven pig-tails running around like an unkempt ballerina. I think my mother was so glad to get me into school and have a break from me. And you will also be glad that I am no longer a pig in a tutu. I grew into myself. Thank God!
Seasoning is everything! Add a bit of spice to life. Surely you don't need to be told that! Oh, I'll be the spice to your life. Now there's a corny pick-up line if ever there was one.
I am still waiting for the final date, but the c/o tells me it should arrive in the next couple of weeks… now the time is getting closer, I get that need to stay attitude. I really do. I want to go home so badly. I want the familiar so much. But I want to see this to the end. I want to save these lives here. The only thing that makes me know that home is where I want to be is a tiny piece of fabric that really needs to be sewn back to its couch.
Missing you more,
Your Callie
xxxx
The blonde ran her fingers along the patch on her couch with a small smile. She took a sip from her glass and listened as Baloo told Mowgli what was needed for a life in the jungle. She chuckled softly.
Dearest Calliope,
I imagine writing this like this letter like it's the last one. It's that close to you coming home. I get that need to stay. The joy of being a military brat… my father always stayed. My brother stayed. It's honourable. It's admirable. But when you talk about such tough days, such tragedies, I don't want you to stay. I don't want you to suffer more of those days. I want you here, safe. I told you. I'm selfish.
I asked Teddy would she go back. She never talks about it. It would be hard to believe that she was even there. She is that awesomely strong as a person. But we had a few drinks, and I ended up telling her about you. She thinks it's highly romantic, as if it is a plot from a 1940s movie. She also did the whole friend thing warning me that there is a possibility that you could be a crazed axe murderer. I told her it's not as if I met you on the internet. But she is right you could be a crazed axe murderer. Are you?
Anyway, I asked her, would she go back and she said that she would miss the rain. That is all she said about it.
It's the little things people talk about. Isn't it? Not the feelings or events, but the little things.
My father would tell me how he wore five pairs of socks everyday. He would tell me how he taught the boys how to play cards.
My brother would tell me how he would set up tricks. He was a big trickster. He would loosen a leg of a chair, or swap the salt for the sugar. He would tie laces together. He was the king of old school tricks and always played them on the others in his platoon.
My grandfather stole his captain's bourbon and replaced it with watered down root beer. And he got away with it. My grandmother always told that story.
He also carried a baseball everywhere with him. That baseball sits in my cabinet. My father got it from his dad. My brother got it from our dad, and I got it when my brother died.
You tell me everything though. You tell me what happens. You tell me what you feel. You tell me what you dream. You let me in completely and I love that. It makes me know it's real. If you choose to stay, it's okay… as long as you tell me your stories.
And you also tell me embarrassing stories about you as a kid. I love that story about The Bare Necessities, and if you makes you feel better. I would act out the whole movie with my teddy bears. What makes this embarrassing though I deny it… is I still do but for the patients. I swear, for the patients.
So where will you work? What will you do? Can I help?
I am nervous too. And for exactly the same reasons. I know it's real but I still doubt it. It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have trust issues. And I know I trust this, I am just trying to trust me to trust this.
I have actually grown to like my couch even more now. I call that empty patch 'Calliope's Square'.
I have rounds to do, and a mass of paperwork and never-ending charts. It never stops around here. I think I am frustrated because I haven't had a great save. I am trying to sound like an awesome person here, but I miss hardcore cases. I miss being really super. It's all laparoscopies and appendectomies.
Missing you,
Take care of yourself Calliope,
Arizona
xxxx
P.S. I am real. I am very real and everything I feel is real. And right now is ours
The brunette smiled as she grabbed the envelope. It was a good day and it just got better as she ripped the envelope open. She sat down with her bottle of beer and her girl's words. She couldn't escape that feeling of elation.
Dear Arizona,
I am coming home… four weeks today I will be on American soil. And I am happy about it. I am so happy about this. I don't want to stay. I want to come home. I want to move forward with my life. I want those surgeries, those hard-core surgeries. I want to be the one that tells the families I saved them or I did everything I could to try and save them. I want to be that doctor again.
And I want to sleep in a proper bed and eat proper food with seasoning. Proper seasoning. I want to drink real coffee, and tequila. I really want to have a night out with Jose Cuervas. I want to drive my car and go to a grocery store. I want to eat ice-cream watching bad TV. I want to come home. My need to come home is stronger than my need to stay. Trust me.
It may be just me but Calliope's Square sounds dirty. It really does sound dirty!
I don't know where I will work or where I will live, or any of that. I just know I want to hug my parents, eat some pie, wear proper clothes again, and take a trip to Seattle. I miss the rain too.
So you act out old-style Disney for your patients… again, no longer surprised by anything when it comes to you. You are the zaniest person I know. You must be. I never get to describe anyone as zany. Do you do the voices?
I am not a crazed axe murderer. I get you have trust issues so do I. But I am learning to trust me again. Before I think that was the problem. I couldn't trust me. I couldn't trust me to be honest about my feelings, and to stand up for my heart. Now I do. I trust my heart and my heart trusts you. It wants you.
Lokie has spent his entire time here writing a book for his kids back home. He showed it to me a couple of nights ago. I've never realised that he was such a talented illustrator. Not so good with the words, but the drawings are fantastic… awesome even. He has drawn everything from the last eighteen months. The people, the desert, the villages, the skies, the sand dunes, the animals… everything. It's like elaborate photography. He said he wants his kids to know where their dad has been. He didn't draw any of the bad stuff, just the good stuff. He doesn't talk about tragedies. He never does. Even on a bad day, he finds the bright side. He won't be telling his kids the bad things. He will be telling them the little things. He will be telling them about the dog we saved. About catching a goat in his tent. About the poker games and silly favours which were won.
I don't tell people stuff. Not my parents, not my family, not even my friends… just you. And I love that. I love that I found someone that I can be complete with, true with.
Counting the days now,
Missing you,
Your Callie
xxxx
P.S. My sister Aria loved fairy tales as a little girl. Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, all those ones. She loved the idea of Prince Charming and happy ever afters. When she met her husband for the first time, she called me. I was still in med school, and she was barely out of school. She called me and told me he was her prince charming. When she married, I was her maid of honour. I asked her was she happy as we reached the church. She had a dreamy smile, and she told me that she had found her happy ever after. I always thought her as corny, but I get it now… no matter what the future holds, for the last year and for this very moment, you are my happy ever after.
A smile crossed the blonde's face as she stepped into her office. The rain had come to a sudden halt as the sun finally won its battle with the heavy clouds, breaking through with one single beam. Its gentle light danced into the glass of sand, turning it golden.
My Calliope,
Is this it? Is this the last letter? If I am really honest, I am actually going to miss these letters. Though the mail-man certainly won't miss me. He thinks me as crazy. I may wheel very fast towards him, squealing 'Mail!' That apparently is off-putting behaviour. I think what makes it worse is that the kids now also squeal 'Mail!' when they see him. Poor guy.
I always wished that I could draw, or sing, or do something artistic. But I can't. I am however skilled at popping peanuts in my mouth and I am pretty good at making card castles, provided there is glue nearby. I can draw happy faces and when pushed to, sad faces. I really wished that I could play an instrument. Drums maybe? That could be cool. My favourite muppet played the drums. Animal. I hated the Muppets but I loved Animal. I could learn the drums, but first I need to move to the middle of nowhere. I don't like being disliked, so can't be disturbing the neighbours with my crash, bang and wallop.
Were you dressed in puffy and meringue or were you sexy or glamorous as a bridesmaid? I've never had that duty… which is a really good thing. I've seen those hideous, meringue dresses. That's not friendship, that's revenge!
I am so excited. I am counting the days with my calendar. I haven't felt like this since I was a little girl and I was counting down the days until Christmas or vacations. I am thankful for Megan… she gave me you. It was through awful circumstances but she gave me you, and I am so grateful for that. It's been a long year, the longest of my life but now that we're so close, it seems to have flown by.
Teddy has asked me what do you look like and I told her that I didn't know. Imagine raised eyebrows. Oh those eyebrows were raised high! I always imagined beauty, awe, wonder, miracles in a Latina's form. That's what I see when I think Calliope. And that is what I know I will see when I meet you. While you are expecting no nose… I will assure you now that I do have a nose. It's in the centre of my face and fits perfectly with the rest of it.
Will you come to the hospital? Do you want to meet in a restaurant or something like that? Or somewhere public where axes cannot be carried… just in case. Or do I fly to Miami? Or do we meet in the middle? It's a big country… wow, this is real now. Do I give you my phone number? I've never done this before… this is very different.
Okay, now you really are thinking psycho… so going to calm down and act like I don't eat Duracell batteries on a daily basis.
I can't wait… I just want to touch you and feel you. I want to hold you and tell you that this is happy and the ever after is still in the happening.
I came to Seattle to start again, to find new adventures, to further my career, to be the best of the best… and I found you on the other side of the world instead. It was my parents wedding anniversary last weekend. Thirty-nine years of marital bliss. They've had their ups and downs, but they're still in love. My father kissed my mother before even learning her name… very rebellious of him. He said he knew he loved her before hearing her speak. I always thought that as impossible but it's not. I am my father's daughter after all. I haven't seen you, heard you speak or even breathed the same air as you and I know.
Calliope, I've fallen in love with you.
Please take care of yourself,
Missing you,
Arizona.
xxxx
P.S. Sixteen days and counting.
There were panicked shouts, loud engines, sharp snaps of bullets, and roars of helicopters. There were grains of sand circling as wheels ripped through the grounds, tents collapsed. There were yells, screams, and chaos. There was an envelope sitting amongst others, untouched, unread and forgotten.
