Dreaming of a Brand New Day: The Conclusion
Eventually Margaret and I fell asleep together, not realizing we were being watched, or that Frank came into the room and tore things to hell. Nothing mattered to Margaret anymore, and I figured that if I held on long enough, maybe she'd be okay. It takes time for things like this to go away.
I shivered, compliments of the cold morning, and realized that Margaret had gone.
"Radar!" I called. I knew that anywhere he was, he could hear me. There was just a way about him.
"Major Houlihan is gone and you want me to page her to the Colonel's office." He poked his head through the door and mystically read.
"How do you do that?" I asked, slack jawed in amazement.
He simply shrugged and wiped the sweat from his brow. It may have been cold outside, but if you worked as hard as Radar, you'd sweat too.
~***~
"What do you think you are going to accomplish by doing this to me? Answer me!" Margaret argued. She tested the ropes that bound her hands several times, every time a complete disappointment. She, Donald and Frank sat in a field about a mile from base. Frank never looked her way once.
"I think I'm going to put you out of my misery." Donald pouted.
"Donald, please rethink this."
"Why'd you let me go?" Frank finally spoke.
"WHY DID I LET YOU GO?! You are asking me of all people why I let you go."
"Yeah." He said, scooting closer to her.
"You broke my heart because I stood up for Hawkeye when I knew he was right. Clear, Major?"
"Crystal." He whispered in her ear, trying to turn her on.
"And you, Donald, do you have any stupid questions?" She asked bitterly, shoving Frank away.
"It never surprises me that no matter how much I hate you, I still find you so alluring." Donald replied in monotone. His eyes were cold as ice as they moved over her body.
~***~
"Uh, Hawkeye, Trapper, sirs, I have zeroed in on Margaret, and I'm afraid Frank's in on all of it." Radar regretfully announced, wringing his cap in his hands.
"You can see all this?" I asked.
"Uh, no, sirs, a chopper passed over and the pilot kinda tattled." I saw him lighten up and smile a little, and for once that really didn't help. "Sorry sirs."
"I knew it! Frank was in on it the whole time. Donald almost killed Margaret. I wouldn't be surprised if he takes his orders from old Ferret Face himself." Trapper ranted. "The nerve of that weasel!"
"Radar, out of curiosity, why were you staggering and acting intoxicated a few nights ago? We know that your Nehi was virgin." I asked.
"That's what I thought too. Donald had the bartender slip some of your morphine into my drink." He was pretty sure of himself.
"How'd you find this out?" Trapper asked, somewhat miffed.
"I just know. Do I ask you how you delve into people day after day?"
"Hey, now." I warned.
"Oops." He lifted a hand to his mouth and blushed.
"That's better. I'll meet you in the office a half-hour from now. Make sure to..."
"Load a gun."
"Tell me, Radar, who has a crush on me?" I asked sarcastically.
"You give a guy some info and they treat you like you're a ouija board. Sheesh." He walked out of the swamp a little miffed, but if I knew the kid, he'd blow off some steam and be okay.
Trapper and I sat in silence as though we were contemplating the answer to poverty. I was about to break the silence when Radar and his impeccable timing caught our attention. We were caught off guard from our contemplation with a sharp squeal coming from the general direction of the office, and then a shot rang through the atmosphere.
"HAWKEYE!!!!" Radar shrieked. "NO, FRANK NO! NO!!!!!!!" He sounded as though he was in pain and in shock. I heard him struggling and silently I bid him fight on.
I ran, um, hobbled as quickly as gravity and pain tolerance would allow to the office, Trapper about three feet ahead of me.
"Radar... Where are you?" Trapper yelled as he went into the office before me. I heard Trapper fall, the air being knocked out of him on contact with the floor. I was sure he had tripped over a body.
"Blake's office! I think I just killed someone..." He tried to yell back, but everything came out in squeaks, hisses and gurgles. We feared the worst. That's just what we got. I turned on the light behind Trapper and found Radar sitting pallid against the wall farthest away from Trapper and I. Frank lay dead at his feet. I didn't dare look at Radar's wounds yet for fear of screaming or being sick. Trapper helped me flip Frank over onto his back. Radar always did have superb aim. Poor Frank. He died with a bullet to the ego and one between his eyes too. The gun was still clutched in Radar's hand. He held onto it for dear life, and because he was paralyzed by pain.
Trapper got to the poor kid before I did. I checked to make good and sure Frank was really dead.
"How is he Trapper?" I said, still avoiding turning around.
"You are gonna have to look at this. I can't make out the extent of the damage."
I turned and my nightmare unfolded before my eyes. There he sat, Trapper beside him with a death grip on the carotid artery that was still in tact. That was the only reason that blood hadn't gotten anywhere but all over Radar, on the gun, on Trapper, on the wall and on the Colonel's desk. It looked like Frank had done digital incisions on Radar's throat. As I worked, I had to fight back nausea with every burst of metallic scented air that hit my face through the new opening.
He was still awake; we had no choice but to keep him that way. The bright side was that he was so deep in shock he felt nothing. In three hours time, an eternity to the patient, we had everything stitched up. Nurse after nurse passed out at the sight of the mangled kid, which made me miss Margaret's presence even more. Her compassion drowned out her fear. The only thing that told us he was alive was when he immediately clutched at his teddy bear once delivered into his arms.
We were relieved that Colonel Blake hadn't been around at that time; otherwise we'd likely have two stiffs on our hands.
~***~
"Margaret, did Frank tell you where he was going? Y'know, I really didn't notice he had gone until now."
She didn't answer; she only stared at the horizon, wishing she were back at base with my arms wrapped tightly around her, and they would have been too. She knew somehow that Frank wasn't coming back. Donald had been physical with Margaret ever since he'd taken her hostage early that morning. He'd do little things that not only annoyed her, but also scared her to death.
"I what was it that Frank did that made you leave him?"
"That is none of your damn business, and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs." She quipped.
"Why is it that I still find you so beautiful? I have a Hawaiian beauty back in the states waiting for me."
"Because you used to be human." Margaret explained bitterly. "I'll thank you as well not to rub your cheap affair in my face." She found out soon enough that it wasn't wise to upset the man at this point in time. He hit her across the face yet again, leaving her this time with a split lip. She didn't cry, only gingerly testing the wound with her tongue. -Army girls never cried in the face of danger- She decided bravely.
~***~
"What in the hell happened here?" Colonel Blake hollered angrily as he saw the mess in his office. "Radar!" He called. There was no answer. He ran to post-op, seeing if maybe he was helping do rounds. He never expected to see the nurses helping the doctors to do their rounds on him. They had just taken the dressings off to replace them, so Col. Blake got a clear view. It looked like someone had tried to operate with the dull edge of a butter knife.
"Mother of Pearl." Blake whispered. "Who did that?" He asked, tears filling his glassy blue eyes.
"You really wanna know?" Trapper asked. I was too busy watching over Radar to really care if even General Macarthur waltzed in. Blake nodded hesitantly, noting the different tone in Trapper's voice.
"Frank." Trapper whispered.
"FRANK?!" Blake exploded. "Where the hell is he! I'll have him hanged!!!!!!"
"I'm afraid Radar got a hold of him before he could have done anything else. Never knew until today that he was a sharpshooter."
"I knew he loved John Wayne, I just didn't know he could shoot like him." Blake mumbled. "Where is he? I'd like to see him."
"Radar or Frank?" Trapper asked.
"Frank first. I want to see if he's in suitable shape to be shipped home." Blake said, feeling suddenly empty.
He looked Frank over and determined that all it would take was a little bit of clever make-up work and he'd be just fine. On to Radar.
"Are you alright, kiddo?" Blake said, chin trembling. "Of course you aren't. Look at you."
Trapper leaned over to Blake and simply said: "That was done without a weapon." Blake's eyes rolled back into his head and he pitched forward onto the floor, cold unconscious.
Radar tried to speak to Blake, but sounds refused to come forth. No huge shock on my part.
"Shh. If you want those to work ever again, you need to not even try. I'm real sorry this had to happen." I said.
Radar nodded. I wouldn't have felt so guilty if he'd have been able to say even 'okay, sirs.' He was sitting up, he'd insisted on being no other way, which made it impossible for him to sleep. Every time he'd doze his head would topple forward, putting him in agony, and it was another few hours wide awake.
We found later that Radar was just a pit stop in Frank's destruction drag- rally. Father Mulcahy found Klinger in his bunk with torn dresses strewn everywhere and a severe compound fracture to the arm. Nurse Kellye didn't make it through Frank's rage.
Father Mulcahy found her as well, broken necked, but underneath a station in the very procedure room we pieced Radar back together in. We went to Father Mulcahy's Midnight Mass that same night as a memorial and prayer service to Frank, Nurse Kellye, Radar and Klinger.
Though Father Mulcahy was supposed to be strong through these times, he couldn't keep himself together, especially at remembering the sight of finding Klinger and Kellye. He held onto his podium for balance, had he let go, his legs would have gone out on him.
Trapper and Blake stood behind him for support, shocked yet sympathetic at the Father's sudden lapse of weakness.
"Today has been a day that I would love to forget, but that won't be happening very soon." Father Mulcahy began. "We are here to celebrate the Memory of Nurse Kellye, to pray for the rapid healing of Corporals O'Reilly and Klinger's wounds, and to pray as well for the quick return of our beloved Major Margaret Houlihan." He spared the façade, fresh tears dripping down his blessed cheeks so pale. "We are here to say goodbye to Major Frank Burns. He was a stern man, one of strict morals, and one who was ready to serve when called for. We wish him farewell."
I admit, though I was looked at as a pillar of strength of sorts, I had to have been crying the hardest. Nurse Kellye was a beautiful, vibrant woman. She helped me see that. I was relieved to find that Radar was too intent on doing his clerical work to let go. Klinger on the other hand thought he was going to die and in fact welcomed it if that meant he was going to be immediately discharged.
I knew that Nurse Kellye had been in heaven. There was no way around that. An earth-bound angel had nowhere to go but up. Frank on the other hand had t o have been in purgatory. Where he would have a lot of time to think about what he did to the people who might have grown to care for him. Might have.
Just as the sermon was beginning to pull a dark cloud over all attending, Radar entered the chapel. He kept his Balance by leaning on Igor. There was one thing I didn't understand about Igor. How was it that he could have spent so much time preparing mess tent food and be fine, but see someone resembling a walking corpse and nearly pass out?
I was shocked, angry, saddened and joyful all at once. The whole room gasped. All Radar wanted was to say goodbye to Nurse Kellye, and even to pray for Klinger. He had no idea that his wounds had seeped, making his problem look a thousand times worse.
"Sweet mother Mary!" Father Mulcahy almost screamed. He regained his holy strength and rushed over to Radar, allowing Igor to sit before he fell.
Radar put all his weight on the father, which really wasn't much.
"What are you doing out of bed, my son?" He asked, kindly.
"I want..." Radar mouthed, stopping shortly to lull the pain away. "to say goodbye."
I approached Radar and helped Father Mulcahy lead him to the open casket. He latched onto the edge and looked in. He seemed to go a lighter shade of pale. One shade I thought it was impossible to achieve.
"Are you alright, Radar?" I asked. I kept a hand in the small of his back, a preventative measure.
"Sad." He simply mouthed. Tears filled his eyes, but there was more to it than that. There was something in his eyes that almost scared me. Father Mulcahy saw it too.
I saw Radar's head turn slightly, almost like the reaction of an animal's ear to sound. I was too busy mourning with the rest, however, to hear. He couldn't very well have screamed for their attention, and so he did what he could. He waved his arms madly to catch everyone's attention.
"What is it, Radar?" Father Mulcahy urged.
"I just heard gunfire!" He mouthed. Had there been a side of sound with this large order of silence, he would have been speaking so fast that he might as well have been speaking in Morse code.
Father Mulcahy gripped his shoulders: "Slow down." He urged. Radar became frustrated to the point of fury. He cocked back and slapped the Father full across the face, looking at him as though to say, "Okay, now read carefully."
"I just..." Father said aloud as he read, "heard gunfire." He sat, deep in thought, then his eyes began to glow as though God himself tapped him on the shoulder and said: "Here you go."
"Are you saying that the gunshot might lead us to Major Houlihan?" He said excitedly.
Radar nodded so enthusiastically that he could have ripped a suture, and the pebbles surely would have fallen out.
"What are we waiting for, men? Let's go!" Colonel Blake boomed
~***~
"Where the hell is Frank?! I think you had something to do with this!" Donald started pacing madly. He stopped abruptly in front of Margaret, aiming and touching the rifle's double barrel to her forehead. He loaded a shell into the chambers, the sound alone made her jump.
"I swear, Donald, I had nothing to do with this... Please don't do this..." She cried, more desperate than she had ever been. This was the first time she had spoken to him for hours. The results of her comebacks and quips had been a solid black eye.
"SHUT-UP! I know you, you conniving bitch! You got to him. YOU TOLD HIM TO BLOW IT!"
Margaret knew that this was potentially her last few moments in Korea. She wished she were back at base with my arms wrapped tightly around her. And they would have too. She began to hyperventilate, tiny spots developing before her eyes. She fell to her side, trembling and weeping. This caught Donald off guard, it scared him. He tilted the gun upwards and away from her head in a knee-jerk reaction, accidentally setting off the hair trigger.
The shot grazed her scalp; the pain was enough to make her scream, yet the bleeding wasn't bad enough to kill her. A nice combination. She stayed in her lying position, her head aching fiercely. She silently thanked God for what she stubbornly called luck. As in she was lucky Radar heard the shot...
~***~
The 4077th marched on through the field, ready for a brawl.
~***~
"I wish... I wish..." Margaret muttered, stuck in a trance. She could have sworn she saw me coming toward her through the field, but she didn't trust her sanity any longer. "Is that you, Hawkeye?" She said. I got to her, undoing her ropes and washing the blood from her face.
"Margaret, are you okay?" She looked at me like she was stuck in a box, meaning she could see my lips moving but she couldn't hear me speak. Seconds later she passed out in my arms. Donald began ranting again, pacing.
"YOU AGAIN?! WHY ARE ALL OF YOU HERE?" Donald ran toward me, aiming the gun at the center of my chest. Another loud pop, much like the first, rang through the atmosphere. At first I thought I was shot, but after a thorough exam with no results, I had Colonel Blake take my place, holding Margaret just as tight as I had been. Donald lay dead a few feet away; a shot to the forehead took him out. It was done just as quickly as it began.
I got up from the ground, walking toward the base, and there stood Radar, being held up by some magical force. He held the .45 pistol in his right hand. I knew that at that very second, Frank was damning, and Nurse Kellye was praising the hero.
The End
Eventually Margaret and I fell asleep together, not realizing we were being watched, or that Frank came into the room and tore things to hell. Nothing mattered to Margaret anymore, and I figured that if I held on long enough, maybe she'd be okay. It takes time for things like this to go away.
I shivered, compliments of the cold morning, and realized that Margaret had gone.
"Radar!" I called. I knew that anywhere he was, he could hear me. There was just a way about him.
"Major Houlihan is gone and you want me to page her to the Colonel's office." He poked his head through the door and mystically read.
"How do you do that?" I asked, slack jawed in amazement.
He simply shrugged and wiped the sweat from his brow. It may have been cold outside, but if you worked as hard as Radar, you'd sweat too.
~***~
"What do you think you are going to accomplish by doing this to me? Answer me!" Margaret argued. She tested the ropes that bound her hands several times, every time a complete disappointment. She, Donald and Frank sat in a field about a mile from base. Frank never looked her way once.
"I think I'm going to put you out of my misery." Donald pouted.
"Donald, please rethink this."
"Why'd you let me go?" Frank finally spoke.
"WHY DID I LET YOU GO?! You are asking me of all people why I let you go."
"Yeah." He said, scooting closer to her.
"You broke my heart because I stood up for Hawkeye when I knew he was right. Clear, Major?"
"Crystal." He whispered in her ear, trying to turn her on.
"And you, Donald, do you have any stupid questions?" She asked bitterly, shoving Frank away.
"It never surprises me that no matter how much I hate you, I still find you so alluring." Donald replied in monotone. His eyes were cold as ice as they moved over her body.
~***~
"Uh, Hawkeye, Trapper, sirs, I have zeroed in on Margaret, and I'm afraid Frank's in on all of it." Radar regretfully announced, wringing his cap in his hands.
"You can see all this?" I asked.
"Uh, no, sirs, a chopper passed over and the pilot kinda tattled." I saw him lighten up and smile a little, and for once that really didn't help. "Sorry sirs."
"I knew it! Frank was in on it the whole time. Donald almost killed Margaret. I wouldn't be surprised if he takes his orders from old Ferret Face himself." Trapper ranted. "The nerve of that weasel!"
"Radar, out of curiosity, why were you staggering and acting intoxicated a few nights ago? We know that your Nehi was virgin." I asked.
"That's what I thought too. Donald had the bartender slip some of your morphine into my drink." He was pretty sure of himself.
"How'd you find this out?" Trapper asked, somewhat miffed.
"I just know. Do I ask you how you delve into people day after day?"
"Hey, now." I warned.
"Oops." He lifted a hand to his mouth and blushed.
"That's better. I'll meet you in the office a half-hour from now. Make sure to..."
"Load a gun."
"Tell me, Radar, who has a crush on me?" I asked sarcastically.
"You give a guy some info and they treat you like you're a ouija board. Sheesh." He walked out of the swamp a little miffed, but if I knew the kid, he'd blow off some steam and be okay.
Trapper and I sat in silence as though we were contemplating the answer to poverty. I was about to break the silence when Radar and his impeccable timing caught our attention. We were caught off guard from our contemplation with a sharp squeal coming from the general direction of the office, and then a shot rang through the atmosphere.
"HAWKEYE!!!!" Radar shrieked. "NO, FRANK NO! NO!!!!!!!" He sounded as though he was in pain and in shock. I heard him struggling and silently I bid him fight on.
I ran, um, hobbled as quickly as gravity and pain tolerance would allow to the office, Trapper about three feet ahead of me.
"Radar... Where are you?" Trapper yelled as he went into the office before me. I heard Trapper fall, the air being knocked out of him on contact with the floor. I was sure he had tripped over a body.
"Blake's office! I think I just killed someone..." He tried to yell back, but everything came out in squeaks, hisses and gurgles. We feared the worst. That's just what we got. I turned on the light behind Trapper and found Radar sitting pallid against the wall farthest away from Trapper and I. Frank lay dead at his feet. I didn't dare look at Radar's wounds yet for fear of screaming or being sick. Trapper helped me flip Frank over onto his back. Radar always did have superb aim. Poor Frank. He died with a bullet to the ego and one between his eyes too. The gun was still clutched in Radar's hand. He held onto it for dear life, and because he was paralyzed by pain.
Trapper got to the poor kid before I did. I checked to make good and sure Frank was really dead.
"How is he Trapper?" I said, still avoiding turning around.
"You are gonna have to look at this. I can't make out the extent of the damage."
I turned and my nightmare unfolded before my eyes. There he sat, Trapper beside him with a death grip on the carotid artery that was still in tact. That was the only reason that blood hadn't gotten anywhere but all over Radar, on the gun, on Trapper, on the wall and on the Colonel's desk. It looked like Frank had done digital incisions on Radar's throat. As I worked, I had to fight back nausea with every burst of metallic scented air that hit my face through the new opening.
He was still awake; we had no choice but to keep him that way. The bright side was that he was so deep in shock he felt nothing. In three hours time, an eternity to the patient, we had everything stitched up. Nurse after nurse passed out at the sight of the mangled kid, which made me miss Margaret's presence even more. Her compassion drowned out her fear. The only thing that told us he was alive was when he immediately clutched at his teddy bear once delivered into his arms.
We were relieved that Colonel Blake hadn't been around at that time; otherwise we'd likely have two stiffs on our hands.
~***~
"Margaret, did Frank tell you where he was going? Y'know, I really didn't notice he had gone until now."
She didn't answer; she only stared at the horizon, wishing she were back at base with my arms wrapped tightly around her, and they would have been too. She knew somehow that Frank wasn't coming back. Donald had been physical with Margaret ever since he'd taken her hostage early that morning. He'd do little things that not only annoyed her, but also scared her to death.
"I what was it that Frank did that made you leave him?"
"That is none of your damn business, and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs." She quipped.
"Why is it that I still find you so beautiful? I have a Hawaiian beauty back in the states waiting for me."
"Because you used to be human." Margaret explained bitterly. "I'll thank you as well not to rub your cheap affair in my face." She found out soon enough that it wasn't wise to upset the man at this point in time. He hit her across the face yet again, leaving her this time with a split lip. She didn't cry, only gingerly testing the wound with her tongue. -Army girls never cried in the face of danger- She decided bravely.
~***~
"What in the hell happened here?" Colonel Blake hollered angrily as he saw the mess in his office. "Radar!" He called. There was no answer. He ran to post-op, seeing if maybe he was helping do rounds. He never expected to see the nurses helping the doctors to do their rounds on him. They had just taken the dressings off to replace them, so Col. Blake got a clear view. It looked like someone had tried to operate with the dull edge of a butter knife.
"Mother of Pearl." Blake whispered. "Who did that?" He asked, tears filling his glassy blue eyes.
"You really wanna know?" Trapper asked. I was too busy watching over Radar to really care if even General Macarthur waltzed in. Blake nodded hesitantly, noting the different tone in Trapper's voice.
"Frank." Trapper whispered.
"FRANK?!" Blake exploded. "Where the hell is he! I'll have him hanged!!!!!!"
"I'm afraid Radar got a hold of him before he could have done anything else. Never knew until today that he was a sharpshooter."
"I knew he loved John Wayne, I just didn't know he could shoot like him." Blake mumbled. "Where is he? I'd like to see him."
"Radar or Frank?" Trapper asked.
"Frank first. I want to see if he's in suitable shape to be shipped home." Blake said, feeling suddenly empty.
He looked Frank over and determined that all it would take was a little bit of clever make-up work and he'd be just fine. On to Radar.
"Are you alright, kiddo?" Blake said, chin trembling. "Of course you aren't. Look at you."
Trapper leaned over to Blake and simply said: "That was done without a weapon." Blake's eyes rolled back into his head and he pitched forward onto the floor, cold unconscious.
Radar tried to speak to Blake, but sounds refused to come forth. No huge shock on my part.
"Shh. If you want those to work ever again, you need to not even try. I'm real sorry this had to happen." I said.
Radar nodded. I wouldn't have felt so guilty if he'd have been able to say even 'okay, sirs.' He was sitting up, he'd insisted on being no other way, which made it impossible for him to sleep. Every time he'd doze his head would topple forward, putting him in agony, and it was another few hours wide awake.
We found later that Radar was just a pit stop in Frank's destruction drag- rally. Father Mulcahy found Klinger in his bunk with torn dresses strewn everywhere and a severe compound fracture to the arm. Nurse Kellye didn't make it through Frank's rage.
Father Mulcahy found her as well, broken necked, but underneath a station in the very procedure room we pieced Radar back together in. We went to Father Mulcahy's Midnight Mass that same night as a memorial and prayer service to Frank, Nurse Kellye, Radar and Klinger.
Though Father Mulcahy was supposed to be strong through these times, he couldn't keep himself together, especially at remembering the sight of finding Klinger and Kellye. He held onto his podium for balance, had he let go, his legs would have gone out on him.
Trapper and Blake stood behind him for support, shocked yet sympathetic at the Father's sudden lapse of weakness.
"Today has been a day that I would love to forget, but that won't be happening very soon." Father Mulcahy began. "We are here to celebrate the Memory of Nurse Kellye, to pray for the rapid healing of Corporals O'Reilly and Klinger's wounds, and to pray as well for the quick return of our beloved Major Margaret Houlihan." He spared the façade, fresh tears dripping down his blessed cheeks so pale. "We are here to say goodbye to Major Frank Burns. He was a stern man, one of strict morals, and one who was ready to serve when called for. We wish him farewell."
I admit, though I was looked at as a pillar of strength of sorts, I had to have been crying the hardest. Nurse Kellye was a beautiful, vibrant woman. She helped me see that. I was relieved to find that Radar was too intent on doing his clerical work to let go. Klinger on the other hand thought he was going to die and in fact welcomed it if that meant he was going to be immediately discharged.
I knew that Nurse Kellye had been in heaven. There was no way around that. An earth-bound angel had nowhere to go but up. Frank on the other hand had t o have been in purgatory. Where he would have a lot of time to think about what he did to the people who might have grown to care for him. Might have.
Just as the sermon was beginning to pull a dark cloud over all attending, Radar entered the chapel. He kept his Balance by leaning on Igor. There was one thing I didn't understand about Igor. How was it that he could have spent so much time preparing mess tent food and be fine, but see someone resembling a walking corpse and nearly pass out?
I was shocked, angry, saddened and joyful all at once. The whole room gasped. All Radar wanted was to say goodbye to Nurse Kellye, and even to pray for Klinger. He had no idea that his wounds had seeped, making his problem look a thousand times worse.
"Sweet mother Mary!" Father Mulcahy almost screamed. He regained his holy strength and rushed over to Radar, allowing Igor to sit before he fell.
Radar put all his weight on the father, which really wasn't much.
"What are you doing out of bed, my son?" He asked, kindly.
"I want..." Radar mouthed, stopping shortly to lull the pain away. "to say goodbye."
I approached Radar and helped Father Mulcahy lead him to the open casket. He latched onto the edge and looked in. He seemed to go a lighter shade of pale. One shade I thought it was impossible to achieve.
"Are you alright, Radar?" I asked. I kept a hand in the small of his back, a preventative measure.
"Sad." He simply mouthed. Tears filled his eyes, but there was more to it than that. There was something in his eyes that almost scared me. Father Mulcahy saw it too.
I saw Radar's head turn slightly, almost like the reaction of an animal's ear to sound. I was too busy mourning with the rest, however, to hear. He couldn't very well have screamed for their attention, and so he did what he could. He waved his arms madly to catch everyone's attention.
"What is it, Radar?" Father Mulcahy urged.
"I just heard gunfire!" He mouthed. Had there been a side of sound with this large order of silence, he would have been speaking so fast that he might as well have been speaking in Morse code.
Father Mulcahy gripped his shoulders: "Slow down." He urged. Radar became frustrated to the point of fury. He cocked back and slapped the Father full across the face, looking at him as though to say, "Okay, now read carefully."
"I just..." Father said aloud as he read, "heard gunfire." He sat, deep in thought, then his eyes began to glow as though God himself tapped him on the shoulder and said: "Here you go."
"Are you saying that the gunshot might lead us to Major Houlihan?" He said excitedly.
Radar nodded so enthusiastically that he could have ripped a suture, and the pebbles surely would have fallen out.
"What are we waiting for, men? Let's go!" Colonel Blake boomed
~***~
"Where the hell is Frank?! I think you had something to do with this!" Donald started pacing madly. He stopped abruptly in front of Margaret, aiming and touching the rifle's double barrel to her forehead. He loaded a shell into the chambers, the sound alone made her jump.
"I swear, Donald, I had nothing to do with this... Please don't do this..." She cried, more desperate than she had ever been. This was the first time she had spoken to him for hours. The results of her comebacks and quips had been a solid black eye.
"SHUT-UP! I know you, you conniving bitch! You got to him. YOU TOLD HIM TO BLOW IT!"
Margaret knew that this was potentially her last few moments in Korea. She wished she were back at base with my arms wrapped tightly around her. And they would have too. She began to hyperventilate, tiny spots developing before her eyes. She fell to her side, trembling and weeping. This caught Donald off guard, it scared him. He tilted the gun upwards and away from her head in a knee-jerk reaction, accidentally setting off the hair trigger.
The shot grazed her scalp; the pain was enough to make her scream, yet the bleeding wasn't bad enough to kill her. A nice combination. She stayed in her lying position, her head aching fiercely. She silently thanked God for what she stubbornly called luck. As in she was lucky Radar heard the shot...
~***~
The 4077th marched on through the field, ready for a brawl.
~***~
"I wish... I wish..." Margaret muttered, stuck in a trance. She could have sworn she saw me coming toward her through the field, but she didn't trust her sanity any longer. "Is that you, Hawkeye?" She said. I got to her, undoing her ropes and washing the blood from her face.
"Margaret, are you okay?" She looked at me like she was stuck in a box, meaning she could see my lips moving but she couldn't hear me speak. Seconds later she passed out in my arms. Donald began ranting again, pacing.
"YOU AGAIN?! WHY ARE ALL OF YOU HERE?" Donald ran toward me, aiming the gun at the center of my chest. Another loud pop, much like the first, rang through the atmosphere. At first I thought I was shot, but after a thorough exam with no results, I had Colonel Blake take my place, holding Margaret just as tight as I had been. Donald lay dead a few feet away; a shot to the forehead took him out. It was done just as quickly as it began.
I got up from the ground, walking toward the base, and there stood Radar, being held up by some magical force. He held the .45 pistol in his right hand. I knew that at that very second, Frank was damning, and Nurse Kellye was praising the hero.
The End
