Wow! A shorter chapter! Imagine that!
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Radar walked over to the supply tent with trepidation. He stood with his hand on the door, chewing his lip, trying to once again gain the courage to face Jessie. It didn't seem like it was only last night when he was in her tent and . . .
That's when he heard it. He cocked his head, straining to hear. "Peace in the Valley." The melody fluttered through the cracks in the building, and sounded so peaceful he couldn't help by sigh.
I haven't heard singing that beautiful since the talent show last year . . .
"The talent show!" he said aloud, forgetting his anxiety as he threw open the door. The singing immediately stopped.
"I didn't know you could sing!"
Jessie had an armful of bandages and paused as she was putting them on the shelf. "You never asked." She looked over at his eager face and her heart ached. She had avoided him, hoping the feelings she had had for him would just go away. They hadn't.
Damn.
"We need to go see the Colonel!" he said, grabbing her arm. She dropped the bandages as he dragged her out the door.
"Wait, I can't! Major Houlihan will kill me!" she said, stumbling to catch up.
But, Radar wasn't to be deterred.
He dragged her across camp and into his office. They barged through Col. Potter's double doors, where an officer's meeting was in full swing.
"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but you have got to hear this!" Radar said.
Jessie peeked over his shoulder at a bemused Colonel Potter and staff. Everyone except Margaret, who was glaring at Jessie, obviously thinking she was shirking her duties.
Radar grabbed Jessie's hand and pushed her in front of him. "Show them."
Jessie turned and looked at him quizzically. "You mean . . . sing?" she said, trying to figure out why it mattered.
He nodded his head enthusiastically.
"Umm - OK," Jessie said, turning back towards the group. Everyone looked at her expectantly. She cleared her throat and sang "Amazing Grace." Simple enough, yet melodic.
A slow grin started at Col. Potter's face. As she finished the first verse, the group applauded, including Margaret, though reluctantly. Charles's eyes lit up, delighted with her talent. Radar beamed from behind her.
"That was beautiful!" Father Mulcahy said, wiping a tear from his eyes.
"Marvelous, simply marvelous," Hawkeye said.
"She's alright," Margaret sniffed.
Col. Potter rose from his desk and put his arm around a quite confused Jessie. "Lieutenant, you have earned the honor of representing the 4077th at the talent show on Friday!"
Jessie's eyes widened. "I don't know . . ."
"Hell, yes, you do know!" Col. Potter said, slapping her back. "Except, do you know something besides church songs?"
"Umm - sure, sir."
"You'll do great, just great," Col. Potter said.
Jessie caught Margaret's eye and took the hint. "Sir, I need to get back to the supply tent," she said, pulling away from his grasp. She slipped by Radar, as she walked out the door.
"Just be ready by Friday!" Col. Potter called. He slapped his hands together. "Hot damn, I can just see that trophy now!"
Radar followed Jessie out the door, his anxiety forgotten.
"How come I've never heard you before?" he said to her back.
Jessie paused. "I guess I just haven't felt like singing since I've been here."
"We'd have never have won that trophy if Major Houlihan had to sing again." He rolled his eyes, and Jessie laughed.
"That bad, huh?" she said, and he nodded eagerly.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment.
"So, did you need to see me? You were – uh – outside the supply tent . . ." she said, crossing her arms protectively.
Radar's nervousness returned. "Well, I – uh - wanted to know –" He trailed off. Why did this have to be so damn hard?
Jessie glanced up at the clock on the wall. She tried, but couldn't come up with any excuse not to see him. Chicken. "Can we talk about it later? If I don't get back before the Major comes out of that office, I'm toast."
"Uh-sure," he said, disappointed.
"Stop by a little after 8. I should be there." She avoided his earnest gaze as she pushed open the door, returning to her duty.
*************************************
Jessie nervously looked at her watch. 8:46. She thumbed through the book she had been pretending to read for the past twenty minutes and tossed it onto the cot. Replaying the earlier discussion in her head, she figured Radar might not show. She didn't exactly give him the friendliest cues. And she was disappointed. Then, she was angry at herself for being disappointed.
She jumped when she heard a faint knock on the door and hurriedly picked up the book, studying a page closely.
"Come in," she said, hoping she looked disinterested.
Hawkeye and B.J. entered.
"Oh. It's you."
"Well, you don't have to sound so thrilled," Hawkeye said, eying her tent.
She shut her book with a thud and sat up on her cot.
"Nice digs," B.J. said, looking around.
"Yeah, you ought to try cleaning yours up every once in awhile."
"What? Mess with perfection?" Hawkeye looked surprise. "Surely, you jest?"
She stood, crossing her arms across her chest. She really didn't want them to be around when Radar showed up. If he showed up. "Look, if you just came by to see my tent, you've seen it. Unless you have something else to tell me, then vamoose."
"Oh, we actually are the bearer of a message from the bespeckled one," B.J. retorted. "He's tied up with Col. Potter right now, but he said he'd stop by later."
"Disappointed?" Hawkeye said, raising an eyebrow at Jessie. "Big plans?"
Jessie blew a strand of hair out of her face. She was disappointed. "You've delivered your message. Now, would you just leave?" she said, walking to the door and holding it open, ignoring Hawkeye's comments altogether.
Hawkeye held his hands in front of him. "Now, now, we didn't come here just for that. We came here to talk, too."
She slowly shut the door, crossing her arms once again suspiciously.
"Well, the whole camp has been abuzz with some gossip lately that we thought might interest you," Hawkeye said.
She didn't like where this was going and narrowed her eyes. "What gossip?"
Hawkeye rocked back on his heels. "It seems that you and Radar are having – what shall we call it – a lover's spat."
"A what?" She put her hands on her hips. "Don't believe all the gossip you hear, Captains! And for your information, Radar and I are just friends!" I think.
"Oh, really," B.J. said, inspecting his fingernails. "That's not what I heard."
Jessie sighed, reluctantly playing along. "OK, B.J., what is it you heard?"
"Well, we were informed that you and Radar got a little cozy the other night."
Her eyes widened.
"During the shelling," Hawkeye added slyly.
"Oh! I thought you were talking about . . ." she started, then blushed furiously as the two doctors laughed.
"Oh, ho, so that wasn't the only time, was it?"
She could have slugged him. "It's none of your business!"
"Ahh, you don't deny it then?" Hawkeye said, enjoying her discomfort.
She glared at him. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, especially with you two! Now, scram!" She gestured towards the door.
B.J. elbowed Hawkeye in the ribs. "Forgive him. He wasn't toilet trained until he was drafted. What my colleague means to say is that we all knew there was something between the two of you long before we started hearing any latrine-o-grams."
She looked at her filthy boots. "What makes you think so?"
"Come on, Jess, the two of you are thick as thieves. Up until recently, if you saw one, you saw the other."
"Yeah, sort of like miniature Chinese twins," Hawkeye quipped.
She gave him a dark look. "Well, thanks for being interested in my – um, love life, but I'm not taking relationship advice."
B.J. shook his head. "Look, there's no denying that you two like each other. Radar's a good guy. What's wrong with taking it a step further?"
"Or two or three?" Hawkeye added.
Because I'm a big fat squawking chicken, that's why. She took a deep breath. Why not admit it? "Maybe I'm scared." There, she said it.
"Scared? Of Radar?" Hawkeye said. B.J. elbowed him in the ribs again. Hawkeye gave his bunkmate a dirty look, rubbing his side.
Jessie motioned at the door. "Have you both looked around recently? People are dying left and right! We're all scared, lonely, depressed and a little crazy. This isn't the time or place for . . ."
"For what? Finding a little comfort where you can get it?" Hawkeye interrupted, gazing intently at her. "Jess, we could all die tomorrow. Hell, we could die in the next 10 minutes! There's nothing wrong with finding someone to escape it all with."
But, I really like him. What if it gets more serious than that? She broke his gaze. She didn't want to admit that much."So, is that what you call what you do to every nurse in this camp? Getting away from it all?"
"Well, someone's got to do it," Hawkeye retorted.
B.J. rolled his eyes. "Look, we all know you like him. Just talk to him. The poor kid's about to pine himself into a stupor."
"Yeah, right," she said. She held open the door. "Now, leave! Please!"
They mock saluted her as they marched out the door.
*****************************************
The first burst of gunfire startled Jessie into wakefulness.
The second round made her hit the floor, knocking everything from her nightstand in the process. She reached for the toppled lamp, but thought better of it, not wanting to bring more attention to her tent by lighting it up. She pulled the clock closer to her eyes to better see it in the dark and realized she hadn't been asleep for long.
And Radar had never showed up.
Another burst of gunfire made her duck out of pure instinct. She prayed she would not have to venture out when the yelling started.
"Help! Someone help! My lieutenant's been shot!" The panicked voice carried well through the canvas.
Jessie cursed the timing and struggled from the floor, rummaging in the dark for her helmet. Her heart pounding in her chest, she took a deep breath and left the relative safety of her tent. Again.
It was pandemonium. People were running about, trying to get somewhere safe before the gunman – or gunmen – started shooting again.
Another shot ricocheted into a light, which sparked and went out as Jessie darted underneath it, trying to run without being such a large target.
Margaret was already leaning over the side of a jeep, inspecting the wound on a comatose solider on a stretcher in the back when Jessie skidded to a halt.
"Orderlies!" Margaret demanded, acting like it was just a regular day at the 4077th, and bullets were not whizzing by her head. "Where are those damn orderlies?"
Almost instantly, two rather young and very scared men appeared.
Margaret glowered at them. "Take him to OR and prep him. And go get Captain Pierce. On the double!"
More afraid of the head nurse than the sniper, they obediently complied.
Jessie grabbed the arm of another man standing impatiently nearby. "Let's get inside, Corporal. We're sitting ducks out here."
For a moment, he wouldn't budge. "He'll be alright, won't he? Lieutenant Powell's saved our asses plenty of times . . ."
Jessie didn't get a good look at the wound before the man was hauled off, but she sure wanted to get this guy - and herself – inside where it was relatively safe. "I'm sure he'll be fine . . ."
They hit the ground as more shots buzzed by. Jessie could hear them clanging into the metal of the jeep, the ground and everywhere it seemed. Her self-preservation instincts kicked in during a lull – the bastard was probably reloading – and she grabbed the corporal's arm again and pulled.
"C'mon, or we'll be in worse shape than your lieutenant!"
When he didn't move, she tugged harder. "Look, you can't stay . . ." She finally looked over at him and gasped.
Looking at her own coat, she saw the blood and gore. For a split second, she thought she had been hit, but forcing herself to focus, she realized it wasn't hers. Although the bullet had entered his head through the temple and blew half his brains out, she automatically checked for a pulse, then chided herself for it.
Although bullets seemed like they were falling from the sky, Jessie remained rooted to the spot, blood pounding in her ears so hard, she almost didn't hear them thunking around her.
I wonder who he was. If he had a family. Children. A wife . . .
It could have been me!
And it will be if I don't get out of here!
Adrenaline pumping, she started to rise, wanting to get as far away from this dead stranger as possible.
She had only gone a few steps when the explosion hurled her into the wall of a nearby building. Because it was a permanent structure, not a tent, instead of collapsing, it knocked the wind out of her. For a moment and despite the heat creeping over her, she could only lay there, her ears ringing, trying to catch her breath and wondering what in the world happened.
The jeep had erupted into a fireball, flames reaching high into the night sky.
A voice in her head screamed to get away from the burning pile of metal, but her body wouldn't cooperate after two difficult shocks – physical and mental – to her system. Just five minutes ago, she was relatively safe in her cot, and now . . . well, now she was battered, bruised, covered in someone else's brain, some stranger was out to kill her . . .
She leaned her head back against the building, the heat from the fire hot on her cheeks, as she tried not to lose whatever wits she had left.
