Chapter 14
Tom's sleep was plagued by nightmares. One minute, he'd be back in Vietnam watching bullets fly and seeing people he'd become close to caught in the deadly crossfire. The next, he'd be in his living room the night he shot Elroy Nevins, reliving that horrible night. Finally, he found himself back in the garage at Metro shooting his gun and helplessly watching as Richard Nevins attempted to rape Margo. It was too much: The screaming, the yelling, the gunfire. The images began to play simultaneously in his head until he could no longer decipher one from another. His head felt like it would explode. It was a deep hell that he couldn't seem to get out of.
Margo awoke from the sensation of the bed shifting when Tom shot straight up on his side of the bed. "Tom?" she asked, still trying to break away from the sleep she was torn out of. When she reached out blindly in the dark to touch him, she realized his skin felt like fire and he was drenched in his own sweat. This immediately jerked her out of her sleep mode and she turned the light on to find Tom sitting up with his head in his hands. His breathing was sharp and erratic. She put her hand on his back and tried to comfort him, "Its ok, baby, its just a dream. Just take deep breaths. That's it," she coaxed. She ached to put her arms around him and hold him until his nightmare went away but he was so hot, she decided she had to cool him off first. When his breathing was under control, she hurried to the bathroom to retrieve a cool waschcloth. She returned to his side and wiped his brow with it as the color gradually returned to his face. She unbuttoned his shirt, hoping that would cool him off more, before returning to her side of the bed on her knees to put her arms around him. "It's ok, baby. It was just a dream. You're safe now," she comforted him while she held him tightly against her. After reassuring him several times, he finally seemed to become more aware.
Tom was finally released from the hell his mind was putting him through to find someone telling him over and over everything was alright. "Shh. Its over. You're safe, baby. Its just a dream," he heard her say. Something finally registered in his mind that it was Margo's voice he heard which relaxed him. "Margo," he asked, wanting to be sure it was her. "I'm here, baby," she said, "Everything's going to be alright." She laid down, allowing him to put his head on her chest. He held onto her for dear life while she alternately stroked his hair and his arm and continued to reasure him until he fell asleep. After making sure he was sleeping peacefully, she allowed herself to fall back to sleep as well.
Margo woke around eleven the next morning to find Tom nowhere in sight. Just as she was about to get out of bed and go look for him, she found him standing in the doorway holding a tray filled with breakfast food. Once again, her heart melted at the way he was always thinking of her, but she felt guilty about him doing this for her considering the shape he was in. "I should be serving you breakfast in bed with the night you had," she said as she swallowed her daily medicine with the orange juice on the tray. Tom chuckled, "I believe the last time you tried to serve me breakfast in bed, we had to call the fire department." Margo joined in the laughing. She had learned not to take everyone's comments about her cooking so seriously. At the first of their marriage, on the rare occasions when she'd try to cook, she'd always burn whatever she was whiping up and end up in tears. Tom would just come and put his arms around her while trying to keep her from seeing him laugh. He loved her: cooking impairments and all.
As Margo ate, she watched Tom, who hadn't said anything about the horrible nightmare that tore him out of his sleep the previous night. Should she bring it up or just let it go? Deciding to take it slowly, she reached out and touched her husband's face. "Oh, baby, you still look exausted," she said, concern etched in her voice. Tom looked down, afraid to meet her eyes and simply said, "I'm fine." Margo temporarily let it go at that and decided to finish her breakfast. When she was done, she moved the tray out of the way and took Tom's face in both of her hands. "I love you, baby," she said as she kissed him on his forehead and then wrapped her arms around him. She let go and looked back into his eyes. "You didn't get any sleep last night, did you?" Margo asked. Tom looked away and nodded lightly. Margo ran her hand through his hair, "why don't you lay down and let me take care of you for a while," she suggested. After a little more encouragement, Tom laid down on the bed and tried to rest.
Tom lay in bed feeling trapped. He wanted to grab onto his wife and never let go, but he couldn't. Every time she stroked his skin, every time she kissed his forehead, he would see Richard Nevins on top of her, running his hand up her leg, trying to kiss her. The thought made him sick to his stomach. He finally jerked away and sat up once again. "What's the matter, honey," Margo asked. "I'm sorry," he said, "I just can't do this right now." Without waiting for a response, he got up and headed for the bathroom.
Tom closed the door to the bathroom a little louder than intended and then leaned his body up against it. He slowly slid down to the floor with tears running down his face. He fought the sobs building in his throat so that Margo wouldn't hear him. His head slowly lowered into his hands as he sat there curled up, not seeing any point of getting up.
