As I walked along that dusty road, the sun rose higher and the day got warmer. Had I really walked this far in one night? Then again, I was taking my time in daylight, whereas at dusk I'd been all but running.
I tried not to dwell on what would happen at the 4077th upon my return, especially McIntyre's threat of "tough questions" that I would face. I felt somewhat apprehensive, but I also knew I couldn't go AWOL forever.
Finally, after what felt like a ten-mile hike, the MASH 4077th came into sight. My heart sank.
"Shit," I muttered to myself. That fairly well summed up the whole situation. I knew they'd be on the lookout for me; my worst fears were confirmed when I heard a nurse shout "Frank Burns is back!" Almost immediately a swarm of people ran out the front to greet me. McIntyre must have told Henry, who told someone else: news spreads like TB in that dump.
The moment I stepped past the sign reading "MASH 4077th: Best Care Anywhere" Margaret ran out to give me a welcoming hug. Nice thought, but no thanks.
"Frank! Oh my goodness, where did you go? We've been so worried about you!" (Yeah, right.) I pushed her aside, earning myself a trademark Margaret's-Shocked-Gasp. "Major Burns! How dare you!" Ooh, I'd pay for that later.
Brushing Margaret aside, I kept walking, past the whispering crowd.
"Hold it right there, Major!"
I froze. Behind me, I could hear the crunch, crunch, crunch of army boots on the muddy earth.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, going AWOL? You'll be damned lucky if you don't get court-martialled!" Lt. Col. Blake walked – or more accurately, stomped – into my field of vision, sporting a beetroot-coloured complexion that clashed with his hat terribly.
"Well? EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"
Being an army man, and trained to take orders, I had to do as I was told… but how? How the hell was I going to explain this one?
"I…I…er, went for a, uh, walk and, um, got…lost…" I could feel myself getting hot under the collar. Nice one, Frank, you crazed fool.
I looked hard at Blake, who for once in his life actually seemed to be taking control. Just my luck…a useless man most of the time, but as soon as I'm in the shits he gets his act together… He faltered, glancing over at Pierce and McIntyre who were glaring right back. Evidently they, along with everyone else, wanted to see Frank Burns taken down a peg or two.
"You," Blake stated in my direction, "come with me. Radar, get the MPs." I watched, eyes wide, as O'Reilly ran to his office. Only then did it really hit me…I was stuffed.
I trudged behind Blake to his office. Behind me, there were two or three pairs of boots slamming into the mud. That'd be Pierce, McIntyre and possibly Margaret.
Margaret… she'd never look me in the eye again. What with running off like the immature brat as whom I am so often described, plus rudely snubbing her as I walked in…it would be a wonder if she even said another word to me. Great. I'm about to get court-martialled for sure AND I lose Margaret. Could life have been any worse? I suppose I could have gotten another letter from Louise…come to think of it, I should probably have replied to the one she'd already sent.
"In," Blake declared, jarring me from my thoughts. I followed him to his office, oh-so-slightly apprehensive. Blake had always been a most incompetent commander, but right when I didn't need it he put his foot down. As we sat down I noticed O'Reilly rush into the room.
"The MPs are on their way, sir."
"Thank you, Radar." He nodded and O'Reilly rushed back out.
Blake turned to me, the angriest I'd ever seen him.
"Major Burns, do you realise what you've done!" shouted Henry, standing up to look me in the eye.
"Erm, gone, uh, AWOL, sir."
"Damn right you've gone AWOL!" he bellowed, in keeping with his penchant for stating the obvious. "Do you realise what you've put this camp through? Have you any idea how worried we've all been?"
"You…you were worried?"
From the back, "Sorry Frank, Henry's having you on. We were having a ball." Don't egg McIntyre on, and no one will get hurt.
"McIntyre! Keep your mouth shut!" shrieked Margaret.
"As I was saying, McIntyre, Frank, you have put this camp through a lot of unnecessary grief." Henry sat down, motioning for me to follow suit. He leant over the desk towards me. I actually felt a tad intimidated for the first time.
"Why did you do it?"
I sat in his chair for what was probably only a minute but dragged on for eternity. I should really have thought of that before I left the foxhole for camp. What was I going to tell him!...
I gave a big sigh, which startled Henry and once more paid me close attention. There was, after all, only one option.
The truth.
Pierce wasn't going to like it, but that couldn't be helped.
……ooooooOOOOOOoooooo……
"McIntyre was pissing me off. I took a walk and went a bit, er, too far." I tried to say it with as much sincerity as I could muster.
"Nicely phrased, Frank." Those were the first words Pierce had said all day. He didn't show much expression.
"Look, Frank, McIntyre pisses you off every day. What was so special about this time?" he asked pleadingly, at the same time shooting a warning glare at McIntyre.
"I…I…I told him to leave me alone and he didn't! He kept at me!" I whined. Yes, whined. Excellent, Frank. Whining won't get you anywhere.
"You haven't gotten over that by now? I mean, Frank, can't you be a bit more thick-skinned?"
I turned around. Margaret was nodding. "Yeah, Frank, let it bounce off you." McIntyre averted my gaze, looking ever-so-slightly sorry for himself. Pierce's face was motionless; if he hadn't been breathing and blinking I would have sworn the gaze of the Medusa had turned him to stone.
"But…but…"
"I don't have time for this, Frank. Get out of my office. For now, consider yourself in very deep trouble. I'll speak with you later. That includes you three at the back." He looked at each of us in turn. "I said GET OUT! And that's an order!"
I stood up and headed out the door, followed by Margaret. Pierce and McIntyre shuffled along behind, muttering to each other.
The only place I wanted to be right then was in my tent, preferably alone, wallowing in self-pitying thoughts and drowning my sorrows in lighter fluid. Not the most professional and useful way to spend one's time, I know. Then again, I was sort of on a roll when it came to wasting time. I'd already wasted a whole night, lying in that foxhole in the middle of nowhere, alone with my thoughts.
I opened the door of the tent so creatively titled "The Swamp" and flopped onto my cot. The still caught my attention almost immediately.
"Drink from me, Frank," it seemed to sing. "Drink and all your worries shall be washed away."
I shook my head. Maybe I'd flipped; maybe the foxhole and my night under the stars had meddled with my brain. Of course the damn still wasn't "singing" to me! What sort of fool had I turned into?
"A terrible fool," it sang.
Either that still's pulling a Radar O'Reilly, or I'm going bonkers.
Even with my new-found lunacy, I felt I should leave the Still until I was offered a drink; if I was offered one at all. McIntyre would never look me in the eye again. Then again… had there ever been a time he'd looked me square in the eye? Seriously? I let the matter rest and made myself comfortable on my cot. Maybe Pierce would… if he saw fit to continue being nice to me.
The door swung open. I turned around to find Pierce's eyes boring into my own.
"Morning, Frank."
……ooooooOOOOOOoooooo……
Friends, Romans and countrymen, that brings us to the end of Part 5. Thankyou for your patience and your reviews.