Chapter 6: Air

Chapter 6: Air

Strangely enough, I avoided him for most of the day (even though he was asleep) in order to analyze what had happened (to no avail, alas).

We ate leftovers for supper in the presence of silence, once again. I watched curiously as he flipped channels on the ancient T.V. after cleaning his plate. He paused on a program broadcast in Afrikaans and appeared to be listening intently. "Do you understand it?" I asked, trying to ease the tension as I sat down next to him. "Yes- most of it. I learned some at school as a kid, and many of the boys in the company were native speakers," he replied. He quickly lost interest though, and his attention turned to the windows. "Couldn't have asked for a better view, huh?" he asked huskily, as he placed his hand just above my knee; his sudden touch filled me with that adrenaline-rush heat. "It's beautiful…and it's a warm night. You feel like some fresh air?" I asked, thinking that the scenery would inspire some spilling of certain feelings. "Ja, that swing looks inviting," he replied, referring to the hammock that swayed gently with the breeze.

I met him out on the balcony after running to grab a blanket. He laughed softly as I wrapped him up like a small child. "I must say, Dr. Bowen, you take no chances." I smiled back and put on a mock stern façade. "You will not start feeling worse under my supervision." He continued to laugh quietly (while clutching his chest). "Ja…Just being here with you makes me feel better," he returned, just barely above a whisper. His lack of eye contact told me that he was taking a risk with his statement but was absolutely serious. My plan was just beginning to work, and he was already making me melt.

I found his hand and held it tight against my thigh before opening my mouth to take a risk of my own. "We weren't meant to say goodbye that day at the base, were we?" I asked, curious as to how he would go about answering that. He thought for a moment, took in a breath and replied hoarsely, "No…and I'm starting to think twice about what I said…something like 'in another life maybe.' I don't think that's going to work…considering that…I'm not dead ...and since you really wanted me to call you." He exaggerated the 'really' and gave me a soft nudge. "I always got the feeling that when a woman gives you all her numbers, she might be a little interested, huh?"

By that point, he was smiling, and I was the one averting my eyes- I must have been a bit red. "Well, you are right about that." I was still trying to let what he had said sink in. Looks like I was right. He's not as hardcore as he puts on…especially now that he's safe. He's got a heart, and I'm pretty sure he just implied that it belongs to me…Wow.

He waited for me to speak as I failed to keep my emotions in check any longer. "I didn't want to say goodbye to you then…you must know that…and I don't want to loose you again." I finally met his eyes as mine filled with tears. Unsure of what to say or do, he shakily stroked my temple and studied the minor cut that I'd suffered during the chase into the jungle as if it was life-threatening. "You were bleeding," he remembered, "and I wanted nothing more than to protect you. It was the first time I'd ever thought of anyone before myself." There was nothing left for us to say.

Never in my wildest dreams had I expected such a speech from Daniel Archer. All of his defenses were down, and I suspected it was a result of his vulnerability. He was hours away from certain death when I demanded, "You tell me where you are," and somewhere amidst the chaos, he must have realized that someone actually cared for him to live. (That's an understatement). For the moment, though, we were content just to be there, reassured. His hand moved from my face to my shoulder where it stayed for a while, as he drew me closer into a one-arm embrace. His left arm remained limp at his side, as soreness had spread from chest to shoulder; it was too painful to make any movements other than tiny ones.

The sea rocks beneath us were overtaken by the tide, and the rhythmic waves took us both under their spell. The moon came and went with the passing of light clouds as it drifted higher and higher into the night sky above Table Mountain. Glancing down at my watch, I found that it was past 10:00; the clean bed was calling. When 'bed' first crossed my mind, I remembered that I'd spent the night in a chair. How's this going to work? I wondered, we're both so damn stubborn and awkward. Do I just get in bed with him? I should just tell him now. Why is that so hard? I'm afraid to be in love with him. That's it. The last thing I want to do is scare him off…because 'we Americans love to talk about our feelings.' Shit. Again, I was tense, but my thoughts would have to wait.

As if on cue, his violent cough returned. He clutched his chest and fought for air. The medic had mentioned such a reaction as a result of scarring prohibiting the natural productivity of his vulnerable lung. His sudden spell scared me to death, but I knew it would not be the last time his body would suffer as such.

We were wrenched away from each other until I wrapped one arm around his chest and gently rubbed his back with the other hand. "Shhhh, it's alright." I whispered, trying to be soothing. Although he soon caught his breath, the rough coughing sent twinges of pain into his forehead. I figured we'd had enough fresh air for one evening, so we slowly trudged back inside. He clearly wasn't at his best, and as I helped him lie down, a groan of pain escaped him. "Damn bullet!" he managed through shallow breaths. My fingertips lightly brushed his cheek, causing his eyes to drift shut. I sat with him for a bit and waited until he fell asleep to finally leave the room.