Oh my. Part 4. I can't believe it! Thankyou, once again, to those who took the time to review. I have ideas now, but still not quite enough so more will be needed. I now know that Frank's wife's name is Louise; I didn't know that before. Yes, I'll get round to fixing it, be patient, folks. This shall still be told only from Frank's perspective. No one else's. There is a reason… I just don't know what it is. So you'll be getting a somewhat one-sided story.
Warning: This chapter contains flashbacks.
Note: Some bad language in this chapter. Sporky, if you're reading this, please don't kill me. :D Don't say I didn't tell you.
Part 4 (the longest yet!)That letter. That blasted letter. Ruined my day. Pierce was being civil and she goes and writes me a letter. Dammit.
I sighed. Realising it would do me no good mulling over its contents, I set down my drink and decided to go for a walk. Those rats would arrive any minute and I had no wish to be in their company. I thought to slip the letter into my pocket before I left. Goodness only knows what that pair would make of it.
The afternoon was chilly. The sun was clouded; the wind nipped at my heels. That damned Officer's Club was rowdy and noisy, full of drunkards… ooh, if I had my way… but I don't (I will some day!) so I shan't dwell on it.
I stood in the middle of the compound, between the raucous Officer's Club and my tent (it was still my tent, even with Pierce and McIntyre), staring at the sky. The clouds were dark, casting a gloomy aura over the camp.
Shuffle, shuffle. There was someone coming. I deliberately avoided looking at them and continued staring at the sky for no reason at all.
"Frank?" Dammit. That bloody degenerate! Can he not take no for an answer?
"Piss off."
A pause.
"Frank, I-"
"I said, piss off." To my horror, I felt a tear start to trickle down my cheek. Army jackets make good hankies.
"Look, Frank-"
I could take it no longer. I spun around and looked McIntyre in the eye.
"What part of the sentence 'I would be a lot better if you would leave me alone' don't you understand? I come out here for some air and to rid myself of you and you follow me! Leave me alone!" I all but shouted. That wasn't such a good idea; someone in the Officer's Club might hear and come to see what the commotion was.
McIntyre didn't seem shocked; on the contrary, his face showed that he expected nothing else. "I only came to ask you something."
"Ask me tomorrow. I'm not in the mood. Now go back and-"
"Frank, listen to me!"
"Why the hell should I listen to you? I don't have to stand for this, you know! I can have you court-martialled for… for… harassment of an officer!" I was spouting shit now. I didn't know what I was saying.
"Can you get court-martialled for that? You should have used that excuse long ago."
"I…I…look, McIntyre, leave me alone!" I turned toward the road out. "Just… leave me alone. Everybody leave me alone." That walk was looking better and better every second. My feet seemed to speed up almost of their own accord.
"Fine. I'll leave you alone. But when you come back, you'll be facing some tough questions!" yelled McIntyre.
I didn't care. I didn't care anymore. I walked out of the MASH 4077th and didn't look back.
……ooooooOOOOOOoooooo……
It was nightfall. Since that confrontation with McIntyre, I'd stayed on that path out of camp, attempting to make sure I didn't get myself lost. Stupidly, I'd kept walking in the dusk, when the sun bade the earth goodbye and the light began to fail. As the last rays of sunlight reached over the mountains, I found an early-fruiting tree and an unused foxhole nearby in which to spend the night. It was then when I realised I didn't have the foggiest idea where the hell I was.
"Well, well, well. Major Frank Marion Burns, you fool of a human being. Look what you've done! You've squandered any chance of Pierce keeping up his friendliness, squabbled with McIntyre and gotten yourself lost in Korea! All in one day to boot."
They say that talking to oneself is the first sign of madness. I figured I may as well, since no one was around to document it and nominate me for a Section Eight. I knew walking off like that was a stupid thing to do. After all, we were still in a war zone. However, General Clayton had come through the area a week or so back, and I hadn't heard of any North Korean movements in the area. Just to be on the safe side, I kept a low profile… and talked to myself quietly.
Having no way of contacting or returning to the camp until the following morning, I took the time to mull over the day's events. Had it only been one day? It felt a hell of a lot longer than that…
Pierce in O.R. At first I had no idea why he'd acted in such a nice manner… but then my memory stirred… something came back to me…
Flashback
"Mail call!" O'Reilly yelled. Almost immediately, a swarm of personnel enveloped him, meaning he was barely visible among the throng of mail-hungry people.
"Mulcahy… Baker… Burns… Hey Frank, here's one for you!"
Upon mention of my first name (much as I disliked him or anyone else using it) I ran to him and snatched the letter he held out to me. I flipped it over, and glanced down. It was from Louise. I don't know why she kept referring to herself as Edith the last time we'd spoken. Apparently she resembled a film star of the same name and the attention had gone to her head. Then again, she might have just changed it. Not that I'd know, being stuck in Korea… The letter made its way to my pocket. I'd read it later.
"Bigelow… Klinger… Pierce…"
As I walked around the compound, I saw Pierce grab a letter out of O'Reilly's hands and rip it open on the spot. I watched him closely, his facial expression amusingly changing numerous times as he read the letter. By the time he reached the end, his face was contorted into an expression of anger, hate, fear and remorse. I personally hadn't known it was possible to portray such a wide variety of emotions all at the one time. A small giggle escaped my lips, followed by a full belly laugh. Yes, I knew it was inappropriate of me to laugh, but his face…
Pierce's head snapped up and he looked me square in the eye. I attempted to stop laughing in time. Instead of the angry, fiery look he usually greeted me with, his eyes were full of sorrow, with a look nearing repentance. He then looked away and walked into the tent, leaving me quite perplexed, and in a way, afraid.
End Flashback
I didn't get a chance to read what was in that letter. (Fair enough too, seeing as it was addressed to him, but still…) I hoped it wasn't bad news, because then he'd take it out on me. However, it didn't seem so. Maybe the contents of that letter were the catalyst for his bout of niceness… He'd never tell me the contents, so I'd have to figure it out for myself.
McIntyre in the Officers' Club. Well, that was at least more explainable. McIntyre was simply a slothful, uncouth, nasty piece of work. No doubt about it. The man simply annoyed the shits out of me! He hadn't been the nice one to me. He was narky to me and I responded in kind. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least nothing I could think of, anyway.
McIntyre in the Compound. Again, his fault. He came up to me, even after I'd explicitly told him to piss off. Sure, he might have been offering something in the way of an apology, but as if I'd ever listen to him. That man should have known better than to approach me. Even though I knew that if he hadn't learned by now (willingly or otherwise) he was never going to…
The foxhole was surprisingly warm. It had been partially dug into a small hill, so it was at least sheltered somewhat. I managed to fit most of me into that sheltered area. Though it had been a chilly afternoon and an even chillier night, I felt very warm (if not comfortable) given I wasn't wearing a lot of warm clothing.
As I settled in, it occurred to me that they'd (finally) done as I asked. They'd left me alone, to be by myself in peace. I hadn't heard so much as a jeep, or the footsteps of MPs, North Koreans or villagers. I was all on my lonesome.
I laid my head on the soft earth. With that, I suddenly realised how tired my body really was; it was aching, almost pleading with me to stop moving it and go to sleep. I stopped thinking about it all – Pierce, McIntyre, the letter - and quietly snoozed away…
……ooooooOOOOOOoooooo……
They didn't find me.
The thought leapt into my brain at the moment I awoke to find myself still scrunched up in that foxhole. The air was still quiet; there wasn't a person around. I was still alone. Immediately my mind raced with possibilities.
Maybe they hadn't looked. That seemed the most obvious solution. I had, after all, told McIntyre to leave me alone, and hopefully he had abided by that wish. That said, however, most people at the 4077th probably wouldn't want to look for me. I could never forget that time I came across Nurses Able and Bigelow fashioning Frank Burns dolls out of fabric scraps. Each had dots where my organs would be. It didn't take me long to figure out they were voodoo dolls. Only then did it really hit home how terribly unpopular I had become.
Maybe they'd looked but had given up. Colonel Blake would most likely order this, to give the impression he cared somewhat where I was. To give the impression he took my disappearance seriously. By rights, he shouldn't; after all, we didn't get along much better than Harry Truman and Mao Zedong.
Maybe they were still looking. This seemed unlikely, given my aforementioned unpopularity. However, I hadn't heard any signs of life in the area and maybe they hadn't reached out this far yet.
Slowly, I poked my head out of the foxhole. I didn't recognise the place, but I saw the road nearby. "Simple," I thought. "I can just follow the road back to the 4077th." No one seemed to live here, but I hadn't come across any signs saying "CAUTION: MINEFIELD." It was all a bit curious. I figured I should probably start heading back to camp, lest they send the MPs out after me, and then I'd be in the shits.
After taking a few berries off the fruiting tree (exactly what sort of berries I wasn't sure on) I made my way back onto the road. It was a bit more dangerous walking in daylight, as you were (obviously) more visible and thus more of a sniper target. Every step I took reminded me of how incredibly stupid I'd been, and how much trouble I'd be in the moment I set foot in that camp…
……ooooooOOOOOOoooooo……
And so we reach the end of Part 4. I do hope you enjoyed it, and even if you didn't there's plenty more fish in the sea. Please, PLEASE review! Don't forget, you've gotta write 'em to get 'em. (That means you, Sporky. I reckon you'd be great at this. :P Don't hit me.)