Chapter 4
"... And then Billy hopped in the van, and... he's been with me ever since!"
Murdock was definitely an entertaining sort of person, especially when interacting with B.A., who would tell him to shut up, or threaten to punch him. Although I thought I detected a softness for Murdock from the tough bejeweled man, behind the fierceness he showed. Occasionally B.A. would wink at me after shouting at Murdock, so that seemed to be the case. I didn't quite understand Murdock though. He was hilarious, but an odd hilarity. Such as the story of Billy, his dog. He kept speaking of the dog as if it was right there with us, but there was no sign of it.
Amy had taken a break from her research to join us outside by Grandpa's truck, and she seemed to completely believe everything Murdock said about Billy. I just nodded and smiled or laughed when appropriate, not sure what exactly was going on in the pilot's head while he rambled on.
"... 'Course, they don't like you to have dogs at the V.A., but I tell them they'll never know he's there. And so far, they haven't seen him at all!"
Murdock leaned against the truck fender, and one hand seemed to aimlessly move in a stroking motion at about knee-level.
"The V.A.?" I asked, staring at his hand suspended in the air. Remembering my manners not to stare, I quickly redirected and looked him in the eye.
"Well, sure! That's my home! I've been there..." He mumbled to himself while counting on his fingers. "...Well, shucks I don't know how long but it's been a while!"
I pondered what he said, still not understanding.
"Veteran's Administrative Hospital." Amy chimed in, answering the puzzlement on my face. "Murdock has a room there. That's where I met him, when I was trying to contact the guys for the first time."
I noticed a sort of far-off look in her eyes as she recalled meeting Murdock, and she smiled to herself. Murdock stopped stroking the air to comment on what Amy had said, a wide grin spreading across his face, a mischevious look in his wild brown eyes.
"Yeah! That was crazy! I was shaving at the mirror when this chaquita came in and interrupted me. I had to play it cool in case she was with Colonel Lynch's guys, but she convinced me quick enough. I think it was those pretty brown eyes!"
He tilted his head and grinned a goofy wide smile at Amy, who tried not to blush while she returned the smile. I looked from one to the other, wondering if they knew that they liked each other or not...
"Hey! Crazy fool! I need that wrench!"
B.A.'s stern command knocked the two out of their moment, and Murdock threw up his hands.
"Alright! Alright! Alright!" He retorted, offering a wrench with a begrudging motion. "Here ya go, you big angry mudsucker!"
B.A. snatched the wrench out of the captain's hands, growling at him, and I couldn't help but laugh a little. I had only known this strange team of misfits for less than a week now, but somehow I got the feeling that they brought something into my life I didn't know I needed. A care-free attitude among the sorrow I was living in maybe?
B.A. stepped back from the engine, swiping an arm across the sweat on his brow, then closed the hood of the truck.
"That should do it! Good as new. Just needs a paint job."
He stepped over to the driver's window and reached in to start it, while we all held our breath. I noticed Grandpa standing on the porch with Trigger, watching. The engine turned over just once before catching and the loud rumble of my grandfather's truck roared once again.
"It's alive!"
Murdock whooped and slapped his knee, hopping off the fender and grabbing Miss Allen by the hands for a quick twirl, then released her just as quick. I laughed at his antics and Amy's blushing smile, then saw Grandpa beaming with a happiness I missed seeing since Mom died. He hurried to the truck and shook B.A.'s hand and thanked him, then turned off the engine so we could all hear each other.
"Maybe we should go for ice cream later?" Grandpa said with a sly grin, winking my way. He knew ice cream dates in his old truck were always my favorite.
"Yes! Let's do that when Hannibal and Face get back!" I agreed, grinning widely. Trigger ran to me and spun a circle, his eyes on my face. He was almost like a therapy dog, how well-tuned he was to my emotions. When I got excited he'd spin and open his mouth in a wide grin, tongue lolling out the side.
"Well, it'll be a day before they get back." Grandpa said, bringing me back to the here and now. "They've got their work cut out for them over there looking for clues."
The team must have seen my fallen face, and Trigger's sudden sit and lean against my leg, because they all smiled encouragingly at me.
"Don't give up mama," B.A. spoke as he twirled the wrench between his fingers. "Hannibal be on the jazz, I'm sure of it. He'll find something."
"Thanks guys." I smiled, stroking my dog's head with my fingertips. A cool breeze caught my hair and Amy's, fluttering it slightly and causing a chill up my bare arms. I noticed the sun far to the west where the sky had already taken on an orangeish glow.
Was it evening already?
"Come on inside, ya'll!" Grandpa waved an arm, beckoning us towards the house. "We'll find some supper and relax. Won't know anything today."
I knew he was referring to Hannibal and Face's findings, and he was right: we wouldn't know till they were back most likely. I decided to try my best to remain positive and enjoy this time with my childhood heroes before it was all over.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The hot water felt good on my hands as I rinsed the dishes in the sink. Grandpa had thawed out a ham from the freezer, and I made mashed potatoes and some green beans from our garden that we had froze also. We all ate heartily, and it was nice having a full table of people in our kitchen again, all talking and laughing. Murdock offered to help me with the dishes after, and B.A. wiped off the table with our dishrag. Amy appeared to want to offer help, but Grandpa had captured her by going straight into one of his after-dinner-story-rants, so she stayed seated, listening to him tell the stories I'd heard a hundred times. Grandpa always did have the gift of gab!
As I rinsed the dishes I tried to make small talk with the pilot, who was doing the dish washing. I had learned more over dinner about him living in the mental ward of the V.A. hospital, and the knowledge made me both nervous and intrigued. Except for being sort of easily distracted and having a strange sense of humor, he almost seemed like an average person. He did keep pausing before washing plates, in order to hold one down to the ground so that his dog "Billy" could lick it, then he'd wash it, smile broadly and hand me the dish to rinse. I had been polite and cautious with my choice of topics so far, but one question in particular had been burning in my brain, so when I got down to the last dish I threw caution to the wind and decided to ask him a directly before I could change my mind.
"Murdock, how did you end up in the mental ward?"
He froze and turned to look straight at me, unblinking. I held my breath, wondering if I had just asked something off-limits or triggering for him, but his answer came within seconds.
"I crashed!" He exclaimed with animated arms and mimicking a crashing sound, and the washrag flew through the air and landed with a soggy splat on our floor. Murdock shrugged carelessly at his clumsiness and then retrieved the rag.
"But... how? When?" I couldn't help my curiosity, especially since he didn't go off on me for asking the first question.
He seemed intrigued that I was so interested, his big brown eyes studying me for a split second before answering, his mouth twisted slightly in thought. When he did answer I noticed his voice took a downshift in tone from the slightly higher-pitch he normally spoke with.
"I was getting some boys out of the battle zone, when the Viet-Cong threw everything they had at my bird from the treeline. I made it just beyond the field before the engine finally kaput and... down we went!"
He smacked the counter with the wet rag, splattering me with water and causing me to flinch.
"Whoa!" I was amazed that he survived 'Nam and a helicopter crash without any major external injuries. "So that's when... you..."
He nodded and tapped his baseball cap on his head with a finger.
"I got knocked silly!"
"It did more than that!" B.A.'s voice right in my ear nearly startled me. He scowled at Murdock and tossed his own dishrag onto the sink rim, then turned away, giving me a wink and a smile, before walking away.
Murdock seemed unfased by the comment, and resumed speaking.
"... Thankfully all the boys with me made it home safe. Nary a scratch on them!"
I was even more shocked, and impressed, that the soldiers he rescued all lived without injuries.
"That's amazing!"
The captain seemed a little shy at such praise, as if he wasn't used to it, and it made me wonder what it must be like to live in a place where everyone knows you're 'not right in the head', in a sense.
"Do you like living at the V.A.? I mean, is it like they show in the movies? All plain walls and lonely?"
I wondered if I had asked too much, since his eyes got a sort of hollow look to them, like I had touched on something sensitive, but he smiled anyways and replied with his typical enthusiasm.
"No no no! Sure, it's all white walls and some of the rooms are padded, but the food is alright and the company is always interesting! Besides, Billy lives there free of rent and I get all the TV time I want!"
Having dried my hands, I followed him away from the sink towards the living room, where Grandpa had moved and captured B.A. in conversation, giving Amy an opportunity to escape his rants. Murdock motioned to her as we approached where she stood by my Mom's old piano.
"And I get to see this little lady almost once a week if the weather's fine! And she sneaks me in contraband every once in a while," he said the last sentence with a giggle behind a cupped hand in my direction, but loud enough that Amy could hear it. His eyes had stayed on hers while he spoke, and she reacted by crossing her arms and scoffing at him.
"Murdock! You're not supposed to tell people that! I only did it once or twice..." She tried to frown at him, but I could tell her eyes were smiling.
"Ohhh, so you visit him a lot over there?" I asked, watching as a small blush threatened her face.
"Well, yeah. It gets me out of the office, and gives Murdock some company as well."
Hmmm... this is getting very interesting.
I was about to ask further questions about her visits, when Grandpa's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Mae, how about a nice tune on the piano? Mae here almost follows in her mom's footsteps! She's a real wonder on the piano."
It was my turn to blush at a compliment.
"If everyone wants me to...?"
The guys and Amy nodded and Murdock rubbed his hands together in excitement.
"Oh I just love music! Let her rip! C'mon Billy."
He 'led' his dog to a couch and plopped down, stroking the air beside him, and Amy took the other seat, making sure to give room for Billy between them, of course.
I smiled to myself as I took a seat and opened the cover to the piano keys. It was Mom's most treasured possession, and one she used often and for all occasions. I had indeed inherited my mother's musical talent, even writing a little something of my own here and there, but the songs I loved the most were the ones she had wrote. Thinking a moment, eyes closed, I pondered what to play, then I began playing some of Mom's slow jazz favorites she said her and Dad used to dance to. My fingers deftly flew over the keyboard, and judging from the audible reactions behind me, I could tell everyone was enjoying it. I let my mind wander with closed eyes, remembering Mom dancing herself around the living room while I played these same songs. She was so fluid in her movements, so perfect, and I knew she was imagining dancing with my father. Is she dancing now... up in heaven? Is Dad there?...
"Mae."
I startled at the sound of Grandpa's voice and opened my eyes to discover I had been silently crying while I played. My shirt was littered with tear drops, and in my lap Trigger's head lay, his eyes staring up at me worriedly. The rest of the team had stayed seated, except Amy, who stepped forward to offer me a clean hankerchief from her purse. I accepted it and wiped my cheeks, then petted Trigger appreciatively before turning around on the piano bench.
"I didn't realize I was crying... thanks, you guys."
I smiled at Grandpa and Amy, then sighed, composing myself. Grandpa nodded and returned to his chair, but Amy lingered.
"You all right?" She asked me kindly.
"Yeah. Those... were some of Mom's favorite songs. I guess it still gets me."
"It probably always will," she commented, looking thoughtful. "But that's okay. People find ways to remember those they've lost. Helps keep them close to us. I lost my grandparents when I was young, and I found ways to remember them too."
A moment of silence enveloped the room, but it was not uncomfortable. I felt like they understood me. Being in the war they would have known loss firsthand, and even though I was in different circumstances, loss was loss and they were here for me. Hannibal and Face had even left to drive a couple states away to find any shred of evidence in a seeming impossible case, just for me!
"Maybe sing somethin' that brings you hope?" B.A. offered, and I knew then just the song to play. I turned back around on the bench and my hands immediately found their positions from playing it so much. It was a song my mother wrote after years of waiting for my father to come home, and when she almost gave up the song came to her. I played the intro and then began singing in my steady tone, feeling as if Mom was right there with me, smiling and watching as I lifted her spirits as I had so often done before...
"You do your work the best that you can,
you put one foot in front of the other.
Life comes in waves and makes it's demands,
you hold on as well as your able.
You've been here for a long long time...
But hope has a way of turning it's face to you
just when you least expect it.
You walk in a room,
you look out a window
and something there leaves you breathless.
You say to yourself
'it's been a while since I felt this',
but it feels like it might be hope.
It's hard to recall what blew out the flame
it's been dark since you can remember
you talk it all through to find it a name
as days go on by without number.
You've been here for a long long time...
But hope has a way of turning it's face to you
just when you least expect it
you walk in a room,
you look out a window
and something there leaves you breathless
you say to yourself
it's been a while since I felt this
but it feels like it might be hope."
[AUTHOR"S NOTE: I do not own any rights to this song, it was written and performed by Christian artist Sara Groves; please enjoy hearing it via this link: (5) It Might Be Hope - YouTube ]
The final notes of the keys faded into the quiet of the room, and for the second time I thought I would cry again, but this time it was from determination to not give up on the search for my father. I wouldn't let my mom down. I glanced at the clock above me on the wall.
"I wonder how Hannibal and Face are doing..." I pondered out loud.
"I know they're doing the best they can." Amy said softly, and I glanced at her to see a steady confidence in her eyes and smiled my thanks.
Grandpa tapped his knee and cleared his throat, his way of signaling that the evening was drawing to a close. I took the hint. Bedtime. Even though I was nearly an adult, I knew there was no way Grandpa would go to bed before me and leave his granddaughter downstairs with a bunch of outlaw men. Even though they were just there to help me. I rose from the piano and closed the lid, and the team nodded to eachother in understanding before rising to begin leaving. I suddenly realized that I didn't know where they would stay, since Hannibal and Face took the van.
"Wait," I said, stopping them. "... where will you sleep? Grandpa, we have space for them, don't we?"
Grandpa looked over his shoulder at the living room furniture.
"I think you three could fit on the couches over there, don't you think?"
Murdock and B.A. nodded, but Amy appeared suddenly apprehensive. I caught her attention.
"Amy, you could stay in my Mom's room if you want? I can throw some clean sheets on the mattress."
Amy smiled gratefully at me. "Thank you Mae, that would be wonderful."
"What, you don't want to bunk with me and the angry mudsucker down here?" Murdock poked at Amy playfully, half-joking, and she laughed nervously.
"I think I'll pass. I'm sure the banter between you two would keep me awake all night!"
Murdock put on a slight pouty face, then strode his long legs over to the couch, falling across it and plopping his cap over his eyes. As quickly as he had placed himself, B.A. marched over and snatched the cap off his teammate's head.
"No way sucker! I can't sleep in no chair, I get real restless. And when I get restless, I get mad, and you don't want to see me mad in the middle of the night!"
Murdock shot upright and had his hat back in his hands fast as lightning, shaking it in the bigger man's face.
"Every time we stay over anywhere, it's always you! You get the couch, you get the blanket, you get the pillow! You expect me to curl up in that little chair? Do you?!"
"YEAH FOOL! Now shut up!"
Murdock gave one last glare, then conceded and threw himself into a neighboring chair, flinging his legs over one arm and curling his body against the other side with a humph.
Over by the stairs, Amy and I had stood watching the whole interaction. Miss Allen simply nodded and gestured helplessly with a hand.
"And that... is why I wouldn't sleep down here."
I tried my best to muffle a snicker, but it welled up inside of me and I couldn't shake it. I felt my eyes smarting from holding it in, but seeing tall Murdock dangling over the chair while shorter, burly B.A. barely reached both ends of the couch as he lay was more than I could take. I burst out with a half laugh, half cough that turned into a full-blown cackle mostly brought on by my tiredness. I caught sight of my grandfather staring at me from his chair in amusement, and it only made me laugh more, causing Amy to giggle at me in response.
Finally I composed myself enough to continue leading Amy up the stairs to my bedroom, both of us calling a "goodnight!" down to the men below.
At the top of the stairs, we turned to the left into my mother's old room. I turned on the light and tried not to let my tired brain dwell on the fact that Mom no longer lived here anymore. I quickly went to the closet and got some sheets, and Amy jumped in to help me make the bed up, glancing around the room as she helped. My own bedroom was neat and tidy, but Mom's was practically immaculate. Everything was always in order. Her dresser always uncluttered, her clothes hung and organized by color, and everything in her room went together well, both in style and color. Mom's favorite color was a soft forest green, and most of her linens reflected that color, then her furniture complimented it with rich browns. I always found it odd that she chose that color scheme, when someone as perfectionist as she was typically might have all white or something so that it could be spotless. Just one part of her I never fully understood.
I finished stuffing a pillow into its case and placed it at the head of the bed, then realized I had just let out a big sigh. Amy looked at me sympathetically.
"Thank you for letting me sleep in here. I know how important this place must be to you."
"Well, I couldn't just leave you to the boys down there, could I?" I gave her a side grin, choosing to make a joke out of the situation instead of feeling sad. I was also interested to see how she responded to my inquries about a certain pilot.
"So..." I began bravely, "... does Murdock know you like him?"
Amy had brought her glass of water upstairs with her, and after the bed was made she picked it up to take a sip, just as I asked her my question. She must have just swallowed, because a wet sounding cough came from her throat and she gagged a little, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she turned to me with wide eyes.
"Wh- what?" She stammered, coughing. I smiled wider at her.
"It doesn't take a genius to see you like him. It's kind of obvious. At least to me."
Amy turned every shade of red, and I could see her hesitate, wondering how to answer me. Finally, she seemed to decide, and set down her glass before responding.
"No, I... don't think he knows. Murdock has always been kind of lost when it comes to social cues like that. He can run a con almost as smooth as Face, but when it's someone close to him, he often doesn't read things right."
I pondered her words, deciding to not confront her on the fact that maybe she was blind to his own attentions toward her. Instead I focused on something about it I didn't quite understand.
"So you like him... but he's crazy. I mean, he lives in a mental ward. Doesn't that scare you or make you a bit on edge when you think about him as a potential boyfriend maybe?"
Amy perched herself on the edge of the bed, contemplating my question, and for a moment she reminded me of Mom, sitting there while we used to talk late at night about anything and everything. I blinked hard and pushed the memory away, trying to pay attention to the present so I didn't cry. Again.
"Murdock's..." Amy smiled a little and avoided eye contact, then tried again. "I've thought about that a lot, actually. Since I visit him regularly at the V.A., I've seen him in a lot of different ways. I've seen his bad days, his lonely days, and his happy days. His days when all he wants is to show me his new fixation, whether it be his invisible dog's new trick or an episode of "The Range Rider".
"Do you ever wonder if he really is crazy? I mean, if so, it is a good cover to keep the military off his back."
Amy nodded.
"Yes, I sometimes wonder that too. But..." Her eyes got a distant look in them, like she was uncomfortable with the thought that just entered her mind. She shook her head slightly and smiled at me, but I could detect a bit of fakeness in it.
"... he isn't crazy in a bad way." She finished.
I raised an eyebrow at her, but she didn't relent, expertly holding a neutral expression I assumed she used for her job. I decided to not push her. I sighed in resignment and then realized just how tired I was. A huge yawn escaped my mouth, taking me by surpise, as I stood to leave.
"Well, if you need anything, I'll be across the hall."
"Thank you, Mae. Sleep well."
"You too."
I smiled as I closed the door behind me. It'll be interesting if they ever tell each other how they feel, I thought as I headed into my own room, Trigger at my heels.
