Here's the new chapter. There is one more and then a dry spell. But maybe I write something tomorrow. I will have a relatively free week and that can go either way:Either I write a whole lot or I don't even look at this story. You guys don't tell me whether you like it or not, except Hypermint. Feedback can make my ego feel good, ya know! Or maybe not. I don't know for sure. I have to get some feedback to know how it affects me :p

Anyway, hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Chapter 20

I must have dozed off because next thing I knew, Potter was here, calling my name.

"Sorry, son! I had to ask you of any contacts. Burns and Hunnicut are already testing rest of the camp and giving them immunoglobulins. So far as I remmeber, we did not have a patient with Hepatitis in last few weeks. Have you been on RnR that I am forgetting about?"

"Mmmm, not that I recall. And I take umbrage, Col. Potter! What kinda man do you think I am? If I had been on RnR, I am the last person to remember it anyway. Besides, I am always careful, giving the prospective acquaintances a through physical before letting them too close." I smiled at him, hoping he knew that after the activities that I indulged in on my RnR, it was hard for me to remember much of anything. Alcohol has a way of making good times happen very often but it also had the ability to induce amnesia ala inebriation.

Potter chuckled before ploughing on.

"That's right. How about that Korean family that took care of you when you got my jeep ruined?"

"Don't tell me they caused this too. If that's the case, they have been my most expensive caregivers to date, you know. They have cost me the most. And I have seen some expensive doctors in my time! First they cause the accident. Then they feed me a hot meal which makes me drink some of the water I previously refused to even touch. And now this?" Despite the indignation, this made sense. They were the only ones I had come across in last few weeks who could have caused it. That also meant that camp had been re-exposed when I brought those kids from their house for treatment here. The baby was probably going to be asymptomatic.

"Who else then? We have discharged those kids or I could have tested them too. And another thing, how come Hunnicut never noticed? And how come Maj. Houlihan noticed? You know she is engaged, right?" He had a mischievous look on his face that annoyed me more than the statement accompanying it.

"I am hurt, Col. Again! And I ask you again, what kind of man do you think I am? Me and Margaret? Are you really serious? I went to her tent to ask her to put experienced nurses on complicated cases. And she gave me the royal kickass treatment, as usual! Remember that kid? Hendricks? The nurse assisting me on him almost cost me his life."

"Scuttlebutt is that you two are pretty friendly."

"Not you too, Col. For one, you never seemed the kind to believe the scuttlebutt. Secondly, I have no idea what you are talking about. If you were someone else, I would have politely asked you to let me mind my own business."

"I am sorry, Pierce. I was just trying to lighten your mood and make you feel better. Seems I have done the opposite. So, if that does not upset you, can I ask what is up with Hunnicut? How come he did not notice your jaundice first? I think you must have been skipping meals and now that I recall, you did not touch the scotch I offered you a few days back. You said something like,' it was not doing you any good anymore'. So how come he never noticed?"

"Even I did not notice that, Col. He has been a little upset about something personal and its understandable. You know how he gets all worked up about his home and family." I tried to deflect the personal nature of his questions. We could talk about anything among us but right now, I was feeling slightly annoyed.

"Alright, son! You know him best. Now I talked to a friend in Japan who has been working on this study about Hepatitis patients management. He says that you have to eat high protein, high calorie diet to get better quick. That quickens recovery. Now the condition for your stay was that you will follow every order I give you, right?"

I was too stunned to answer him right away so he boomed in my ear again.

"RIGHT?"

"What? NO. How can you do this to me? I protest. If I don't protest, I might die of mess-poisoning."

"Pierce, have you always been this spoiled or do I have the special privilege of living with a ten year old version of you? I feel sorry for your father!"

"No. And so do I. And no. I am not hungry anyway."

" Yeah? That's why they call it force-feeding son. Don't give me tough time or I promise you, I will send you to Japan. We cannot take care of you here if you keep acting like an unbroken mule!" And with that, he got up to leave.

I was seriously pissed at the Korean family now. And Korea. And Army. Why the hell? How could things get so out of control?

Why do things need to get so screwed up? What the hell was I doing here?

As I grew older, I did realize that dad had a tough life but it was not until I got here that I truly understood what he was going through during mom's illness and then later, while taking care of me. The loneliness really gets to you, especially if you don't have a friend you have gotten used to around anymore.

I decided to sleep again but could not sleep and thinking was driving me crazy. I tried to find the deck of cards I had thrown in my duffel bag in anticipation of some similar contingency. It was the first thing I put in the bag.

'Very smart, Hawkeye!'

It was right at the bottom and when my efforts to retrieve it failed, I decided to just empty the bag on the bed. This was a real bed, I was glad to notice. Somethings did try to bite me but I could not bite back. That always annoyed me. How unfair could this war get, really?

For the first time in my adult life, as far as I could remember, I started folding my clothes. It was an exercise in futility. That was the major reason I hated doing laundry in the first place. Washing clothes was not so bad. It was the folding that killed me. God bless Mrs. Marstson who did this for me everytime she found a pile on my bedroom floor before dad could find out.

Now what? I had folded the laundry. Some were folded into lumps and the pile toppled and dropped to the floor. Another fifteen minutes of hard work. Finally I gave up. I was not going on a damned date anytime soon and where was I going to put these folded clothes anyway? And only then did I notice a closet. A real closet. Except for the falling and feeling sick part, this was not half as bad as I had expected. I dumped the whole pile in the closet and closed the door. That reminded me of my teen years. And the walk-in closet. I just dumped everything in and shoved it closed back then too. It never ceased to make me happy every time I closed the door after an impossible bulk of junk was shoved in. I grinned as I remembered the effort of finding something from that pile while trying not to enter the closet. I also envied Frank. He had spent more hours in Margaret's closet than he did on her bed.

Why was I reverting to my childhood memories these days? Dad's letter was to blame. I hoped things were working out for him. This place was scary-unpredictable. And proponents of life were not liked by either side in a war. I wanted to go back to Crabapple Cove as soon as possible but there was always a possibility that I might not and I really did not want him to suffer a second time because of me!

Why was I being morbid? Good thing I had stopped rambling in my thoughts but this was worse than rambling, to be honest. I could not afford to be depressed. I just could not!

I decided to think of new ways to annoy old Frank. My partner in crime was on a sabbatical but I was hoping of getting him back in action. Should I write Peg and ask her what was wrong? Now I had a rather bad feeling. It had to be really bad for BJ not to be able to talk to me about it. Was it something,someone, Peg was involved in? And if yes, how did BJ know? This was frustrating. We both had this ability, to be there when other needed us. I knew when that stove blew in my face and I feared getting blind, he was there and got my mind off my worry for my life and my career and it was in no small part because of him that I got to really hear things I usually could not. He did not know that. I did not want his head to get bigger. Or maybe that was not entirely a bad idea? That way, his head would become relatively normal when compared to his feet.

So... what was I going to do to Frank once I got better? Maybe this time I would really box him in and mail him to Tokyo? Or how about India? That sounded more than fun. I decided to write everything down and tried to find my notepad and a pencil.

Damn!

I forgot it back in the Swamp. Maybe just go and get it from the Swamp? I could also give Radar my letter to put it in the next outgoing mail bag?

Oh, well!

It could wait, I decided while shuffling the cards, trying to guess the card I was going to pick from the pack.