From the day he found out that Virgil was killed and there was no body, Alan had been trying to plan a way to get back there and find the proof. Either he would find Virgil or his body. He didn't listen to reason when he was always asked, "If Virgil was alive, why hasn't he contacted us? If he was hurt, he should be better enough by now to be able to find a way to contact us." But Alan did not want to hear such logic. He wanted proof. "He could be held captive!" he often retorted.
John approached Jeff, in the library several days after that fateful day. "Father, when do you want me to go back to TB5?" Jeff looked up at John, then went back to reading. After what seemed an eternity to John, and a feeling of being snubbed, Jeff looked back at John and said softly, "Never." That was all he said, and he went on reading. John decided to leave it alone for the moment. He was sure he would get back to TB5, but his father wasn't ready yet. But he did want to go bring some things home that he had left up there that he won't want there permanently. So he asked his dad if he could go get his belongings. Jeff answered, "Not yet. I don't want any of my sons leaving right now. That is all we need is for you to have an accident going up to the satellite."
Teresa didn't realize that shivering was a response to feeling cold and that in a situation of too cold the body didn't shiver. So in actuality, his body had warmed up enough to feel the cold, and thus the shivering. It was a good sign. He was chattering so hard, she was afraid he would end up breaking his teeth or biting his tongue, so she ran into the house for a small clean cloth and stuffed it into his mouth. She didn't know what else to do. The two Cumaguans just stood there watching this man shivering so hard that it looked as if he was having fits. Miguel looked to his mother with such worry in his eyes that she pulled him close and held him. After what seemed an eternity, the injured man's tremors started to subside. When they finally subsided she removed the cloth from his mouth. And when he looked to be just sleeping quietly, Teresa removed the rocks. She kept the blankets on.
Teresa had been keeping an eye on the stranger bundled under the blankets as she went through her daily chores. She noticed that as the blood circulated out to his skin and extremities, the deeper cuts started to bleed. She would need to dress his wounds soon. She turned to Miguel who kept vigil next to the injured man. "Go into the house and bring me the clean bandages and alcohol." He did as she asked. She knelt down next to Virgil and felt his forehead. He no longer felt like he had ice in his veins, but he had a comforting warmth to his skin. She peeled back the many layers of blankets and saw for the first time his real condition. She saw that he attempted to bandage a severe wound on his left arm. He was covered with cuts and bruises. She could see that his right knee was swelling even through the trousers. Blood was starting to form on the grass mat that he laid upon, so when Miguel returned with the medical supplies, she asked him to help turn the wounded man on his side so that she could examine his back. What she saw surprised her. His back was covered with shrapnel wounds, several of them deep. She looked to Miguel, anger showing in her eyes. "Where did you say you found him? He is nothing but a mercenary. Jorge was right, he said that Americans were brought in to fight. They fight for whatever side offers money, and they ravage the land and the people. I will not help him."
"No, mamma, he is not a mercenary. He did not have a weapon, none of them did. They helped rescue children from the church when it collapsed. That is what they were doing when the rebels started with the mortar fire. I think that is what happened to this man. He was running for cover and was hurt when a mortar exploded so close to him. I think maybe he was the one in the giant machine. The one that was holding up one of the walls of the church so that it did not fall on the people still left inside. No mamma, he is not a mercenary, that I am sure of." Miguel said pleadingly.
She looked back at the man, saw the bright blue pants and boots, and thought that no mercenary would wear such clothing to make such an obvious target. Maybe Jorge was wrong after all. He had said that they were American soldiers. Well maybe American, but not soldiers. She looked back at her son and asked, "You are sure he had no weapon?"
He answered, "Yes, I am sure"
She asked her son to go into the house and bring back the small but very sharp knife. When he did, she stuck it in the fire. She was going to do the only thing she knew how to do when it came to medicine, primitive but effective. While the knife was heating, she was preparing to remove Virgil's T-shirt in one piece but decided that it was too badly damaged to try to save. So she cut it off. He could wear her husband's clothes since there was no one to wear them anymore. Her husband was built much smaller than this man was but the clothes were cut roomy. Some of the clothes should fit.
She was not so old that she could not appreciate the physique of the person who lay before her. He obvious worked hard for a living. He had a strong build with no fat to spare. Her eyes feasted but a moment when she got back to the task of repairing him. She decided to work on his back first and had Miguel roll him completely over onto his stomach. When she felt the knife was ready, she pulled it out of the fire with a thick piece of cloth. Carefully going over all the shrapnel wounds, she found which ones were just cuts and which ones still contained pieces of metal and proceeded to remove them with the hot sterile knife. Luckily they all seemed to be close to the surface. She did not hesitate when she had to work on the lower part of his body. To her, she was just working. When she finished, she took the grain alcohol and poured it over his wounds. Thankfully he was not awake for that. She took the one large square clean cloth and placed it on his back. She took smaller pieces and placed them against his buttocks and legs. They gingerly rolled him over onto his back so that she could check his front. Once she finishes with his front, she will bind everything so that the bandages will stay. There were no mortar wounds on his front, they seemed to be all from his fall. She looked at a large bruise starting to show over his ribcage. She felt them and they felt spongy, not good. She thinks several were broken. None of the larger bones in either leg or arm seemed broken, that was good, but there was a very deep gash in his left arm. She had removed his bandage and cleaned the wound the best she could and used the alcohol liberally. When she finished checking him over as best she could, she bound all the bandages. He looked like a mummy after she was done dressing the wounds. That thought brought a brief smile to her face. She turned to Miguel who had watched his mother intently and silently. "Miguel, would you go find a shirt and leggings from your father's things that will fit him?" Miguel looked over the still figure, sized him up and ran inside.
They finished dressing the still unconscious man. Teresa looked at what was left of the blue uniform and debated whether to keep them or burn them. She tossed the T-shirt into the fire, but folded the blue pants and laid the boots on top and brought them into the house. She hid them in a corner.
As she came outside, she noticed that there was little time left in the day. "We will have to find a way to get him into the house for the night. It will get too cold out here for him. But let's eat first."
She served a thick stew made of beans and vegetables and spooned it onto the tortillas. Miguel was hungry, he hadn't eaten all day as he had been so busy. He sat next to the still man hoping he would awaken. He wanted him to eat something, to gain his strength back quickly. He will need to be strong and well when Jorge returned. Mother and son sat quietly eating while watching the man. With a mouthful of food, Miguel said, "I think the mat is strong enough, we could drag him into the house." Teresa chewed slowly, thinking. The pathway to the house was not rough, there were no rocks, they could probably handle it. Miguel could see her deep in thought and slightly nodding her head. She liked his idea.
As she was mulling over Miguel's suggestion, the stranger moaned and showed signs of waking up. Teresa put down her half eaten tortilla wrap and moved closer to him. "Senor, senor" she said softly, gently shaking him by the shoulder. He tried to roll over, groaned and rolled back, it was only when he was flat on his back again that he slowly opened his eyes. They took a while to focus on her. Without realizing that they were speaking Spanish to him, he asked, "Where am I?" Teresa, who knew English well, answered, "You are at my casa, in the valley. You are American, yes?"
Virgil slowly nodded 'yes' and looked about him. Teresa pulled her son over and said, "My son, Miguel, found you and brought you here. He saved your life." Virgil weakly lifted his arm up to shake Miguel's hand, and whispered, "Thank you". Miguel answered, I only found you, it was my mother who saved your life. Virgil looked towards Teresa, smiled and mouthed "thank you." He fell back asleep.
Teresa thought, "Well at least he is alive."
"I hoped he would have stayed awake long enough for me to give him some water," she said to her son. She went back to eating, watching the man carefully in case he woke up again.
When their evening meal was over, Teresa asked Miguel to start the fire inside the house then to prepare a place next to the fire for the wounded man. When Miguel returned outside with the news that his assignment had been completed, Teresa tried to wake the man up. At first he didn't respond, but then he slowly came out of his fugue. "Senor, we want to move you inside next to the fire where it will be warm tonight. Can you get up?" He hesitated then nodded yes. He painfully rolled over onto his side, got his knees underneath him, rocked back on his heals with the help of Miguel, had dejavu of doing this before, and stood up wobbly.
Leaning heavily on Miguel, but this time with the help of Teresa, Virgil was able to walk the few yards into the house and onto the 'bed' that Miguel had prepared on the floor next to the fire. Miguel had set up another place right next to the man for himself. He planned on keeping close in case he was needed.
When they got Virgil down on floor, Teresa asked him if he wanted water, he nodded yes. Miguel helped prop him up high enough to be able to drink the water being offered him by Teresa. As she was holding the cup for him, she said, "My name is Teresa, Senor, what is yours?" Virgil stopped drinking. He paused with a blank look on his face. Teresa thinking that maybe he didn't hear or understand asked again, "Senor, what is your name?" Virgil made eye contact with Teresa and said quietly, "I don't know."