For What It's Worth, page 28
She opened her eyes as she heard the familiar sound of Penny at the sink cleaning up the dishes. She sighed. She knew Penny and Liz cared about her, and she loved them for it, but the worry in their eyes each time they looked at her was beginning to weigh on her. In some ways, she really wished they'd leave her alone.
Becca took as deep a breath as she could and pushed herself up to a sitting position as Liz turned from the window and rushed to her side. She smiled weakly at her.
"I have to use the bathroom."
"OK, " Liz said, tucking her arm under Becca's and lifting her off the couch. Her eyes widened as she looked at Becca's feet. The swelling around her ankles was getting worse.
She swallowed hard.
"There ya go," she whispered, holding Becca's hand as she stepped up the one step to the bathroom. She watched her closely as she disappeared inside and closed the door.
Liz picked up the remaining popcorn bowls off the coffee table and walked over to Penny, dropping them in the kitchen sink's soapy water. She stole another glance at the closed bathroom door.
"I swear she's going to give me a heart attack," Liz whispered, putting the unopened bottles of Coca-Cola back in the refrigerator. "She won't go to the doctor, she won't go to the hospital, she won't even let my father take a blood pressure reading!"
Penny nodded.
"She's just scared…" she said quietly.
"I know she's scared!" Liz whispered harshly, her eyes watering. "But Penny, she's sick. She's really sick…"
"I can see that!" Penny snapped quietly, drying her hands on the dish towel, and turning to her distraught friend, her own fears coming to the surface. "But as long as the baby is still moving, she's not going to budge, you know that. She's stubborn as a damn mule, that one."
Liz cast another glance behind her at the bathroom door.
"We have to make her, Penny!"
"But how…."
"She's trying, but she’s barely eating or even drinking anything; her ankles are swollen," Liz interrupted in a quick, hard whisper, crossing her arms. "I know her head hurts, but she won't tell me. She sleeps all the time. Eventually her…her kidneys will shut down, or she's…she's gonna have a stroke…"
"What?!" Penny said, more loudly than she meant to. "What are you talking about?"
"She's killing herself," Liz gasped quietly, tears now falling down her cheeks as the worry and stress she'd tried to hold back for weeks came spilling out of her, finally saying out loud what she hadn't even written to Eli or told her future in-laws. "She's killing herself to keep her baby alive. The only sure way to cure preeclampsia is for the baby to be born. If she stays too…stubborn for too long, she could die!"
"Oh, my God!" Penny said, putting her hand over her mouth. She'd been worried. She knew Becca's body wasn't handling the pregnancy well, but she had no idea she was in such bad shape -- and she knew Jesse would be insane if he knew.
"I don't know how," Liz said earnestly, grabbing onto Penny's arm, "but we've got to find a way to make her go to the hospital and deliver the baby and…and get better. You've got to help me."
Penny nodded, then glanced past Liz's shoulder and froze.
Becca was leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, staring daggers at them both with hurt in her eyes.
"My baby will be born when he is ready to be born," she said evenly. Liz jumped at her words, then turned and took a deep breath.
"Becca, will you please listen to me," Liz said as she slowly walked toward her friend. "You…you are not well at all…"
"I'm fine," Becca said quickly, raising her head.
"You're not fine!" Liz pleaded. Throwing her hands in the air and then putting them over her mouth to stop herself from saying any more.
"Liz's right, you're making yourself sick," Penny said as calmly as she could as she walked over to Becca, really examining her for the first time. She looked ashen, her forehead fixed in a permanent pinch. She was thin where she wasn't swollen, but her eyes were bright. They seemed to be the only remainder of the ball-of-fire of a woman Penny had met earlier in the year. Becca looked like a shadow of her former self. A very pregnant shadow.
"Look, Jesse…Jesse wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself…" Penny started before choking on her words. She put her hands on Becca's arms and watched her eyes fill with tears.
With watery eyes, Becca searched Penny's face. This was the woman who saved her from herself, who helped her escape the clinic when she found out she was carrying Jesse's baby.
And even she didn't understand.
"He deserves to live on," Becca croaked out after a moment, her voice thick. "You said it yourself. Don't you remember? This is how he lives."
"But Becca…" Penny whispered.
"Penny, we have lost so much," she whispered, her cracking voice pleading with them both as her eyes darted between her two friends. "I've lost my job, I've lost my parents, Eli is gone, and Joe and…and Jesse. Don't you see if I lose Jesse? If I lose him and…and the baby…oh, no…no, no. no…"
She took a deep breath and shook her aching head, trying to forget even the thought of losing Jesse. Trying to forgive herself for even saying the words. She swallowed heavily.
"I will…I'll be fine," she said as confidently as she could, trying to straighten her spine. "The baby is…is going to be healthy and…and I…I will be, too."
Penny and Liz looked at each other, tear tracks lining their faces.
"The only way to make sure that happens…" Liz started.
"No!" Becca said, taking a small step back from them both. "He's…he's not ready yet. I will not put him in jeopardy; I just won't! No! If…if you can't handle that then, then I don't need you. I…I…"
Becca wrapped her arms around her stomach and began to cry in earnest. Both Liz and Penny reached out for her, their hearts breaking, not wanting to upset her anymore. They looked at each other, each with fear written all over their faces.
"OK, OK," Liz said quietly as Becca leaned against her; she looked at Penny on Becca's other side. "We'll do whatever…whatever you need us to do."
Becca took a couple deep breaths, trying to find her voice again.
"Just be my friends," she whispered, suddenly very, very tired. "Help me through the next six weeks. Please, just promise me you'll help me keep him safe until then. Please."
Penny pursed her lips and looked at Liz, who closed her eyes and whispered "OK" as they helped Becca back to her bed.
Jesse walked along a trench that ran the length of the airstrip the Army Corps was currently constructing, shuffling the final blueprints between his hands.
The project was a day or two away from completion, and the weather had, miraculously, cooperated. Though the sky was overcast, it seemed that the rainy season was drawing to a close.
He passed by Joe and his group doing the physical work of linking the pieces of the airstrip together. Their eyes met briefly. Joe gave him a thumbs up, which Jesse returned, not breaking stride. There were at least a hundred soldiers working in and around the site today, everyone working double-time. It was Christmas Day, and many of the men were just trying to keep their minds off of the fact that they weren't back home with their families.
As Jesse walked along, he meticulously looked over the work being done and compared it to the blueprints in his hand.
Everything was going damn near perfectly, but he couldn't fight the feeling that something wasn't right. It had been hanging over him for days now, and he couldn't shake it. He chalked it up to just being where he was and doing his job in the middle of a war. He tried to remember Joe's mantra -- "day-by-day" and maintain his focus.
Though Becca and the worry he read in her latest letter was never far from his mind.
He'd sent her a letter in return just six days earlier, trying to calm her worries and cheer her as she had always cheered him. After a sleepless night mulling over her last words to him, he finally accepted somewhat reluctantly that Joe was probably right. She was emotional and needed his support. So, he did all he could do, hoping his letter would make her smile a bit, letting her relax as much as their current situation would allow.
And make her realize that no matter what surprises come their way in the future, he'd always, always love her.
"Sir?" he heard Corporal Byrd say behind him. Jesse turned to him.
"Here are those last prints you wanted, Sir," Barry said, handing the papers to Jesse just as big drops of rain began to fall down all around them.
"Thank you," Jesse said, squinting up at the sky. "Looks like we haven't escaped the damn rain yet."
"No, Sir," Barry said with a chuckle, as the rain started to fall harder. Jesse swore he could hear thunder in the distance, but it wasn't thunder.
Jesse jerked around and looked at the sky as a small brigade of American choppers came screaming over the construction site, shooting into the tree line, not 50 yards from where he and Barry were standing. Then, out of nowhere, gunfire and grenades sprang from the trees next to them.
And all hell broke loose. Screams, curses, and bullets were flying -- everywhere.
Men were scurrying from their position on the airstrip and reaching for their weapons. Many of the men were carrying little weaponry on their bodies. Most had to run to get their guns, having been assured the large perimeter around the construction zone had been safely secured. It hadn’t. They'd been sitting ducks.
Jesse dropped the blueprints and swiftly brought his rifle from its sling on his back and into his hands. His eyes were wide as he tried to look through the rain and shoot into the forest.
He fired one round and watched in horror as Barry, not 10 feet from him, was shot through the neck and collapsed face-first into the trench below. Jesse barely had time to react when a pain like he'd never felt before ripped into his left shoulder, knocking him and his rifle back and twisting his feet around themselves on the edge of the trench. He heard a loud crack as if lightning had bolted through the trunk of a sturdy tree.
Then everything went black.
Liz knocked quietly on Becca's bedroom door.
When she received no response, she slowly opened it up and walked across the room to push back the curtains and let in Christmas Day's morning light.
"Becca?" she said quietly as she turned around and walked back towards the bed. Becca was lying on her side, away from the window. Liz gave her shoulder a little shake.
"Becca? Honey? We have some milk and toast…"
Penny came into the doorway and gasped, dropping the tray she was holding to the floor.
"Liz!" she gasped, hurrying to Becca's side and kneeling down. "Liz! Call for an ambulance. Now!"
"What? What?!" Liz said, hurrying now to the other side of the bed where Penny was.
Becca didn't stir even a little bit. Her breathing was shallow, and she was as white as a ghost, but with a fine sheen of sweat covering her body.
Liz raced out to the living room and picked up the phone. Penny took Becca's wrist in her hand to check her pulse. It was racing.
"They're on their way," Liz said a moment later, her voice shaking as she stood at the bedroom door.
"Call her parents," Penny said quickly. "Call everyone you can."
Liz briefly stared at Becca, then squeaked out a sob and ran back into the living room.
"Wilma?" Penny heard Liz say brokenly a minute later. "Wilma, it's…it's Liz…"
Becca remained motionless as Penny stroked her hair with one hand, placing the other hand on Becca's stomach. She could feel the baby moving.
A tear ran down her nose as she cocked her head to the side and studied her friend's face.
"Hang on," she whispered to her, her voice thick. "Please, just hang on."
37
FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH
"Come on, buddy, come on! Goddammit! Come on!"
Joe had hooked his arm under Jesse's right arm and across his chest, slapping his hand down in a seeping pool of blood on the left side of Jesse's shirt. Joe's eyes were wide, despite the mud that flew up into them as he tried to crawl out of the trench, dragging his best friend moaning in agony behind him.
Men were lying everywhere -- dead or dying. The second wave of choppers slowed the onslaught from the trees considerably, but not completely, and Joe knew another wave wouldn't come until the relentless rain slowed down.
When Joe spotted Jesse lying broken and bleeding at the bottom of the trench, his heart stopped. The hole had been built for drainage, and the rapidly draining sky was quickly filling it up with a murky flash flood.
Instinctively, he knew the only way Jesse, or any of the men, would eventually get immediate help from the medical personnel would be out in the open field, not in a trench. They had to be seen to be heard.
And Jesse had to be seen. Joe didn't hesitate to move him, but he couldn't look at his foot -- now contorted at a grotesque angle, and he really wished his hand wasn't currently buried in Jesse's blood.
The Viet Cong seemed to have fallen back and become deceptively quiet in the downpour. Retreating? Regrouping? It was impossible to tell, but Joe had a window, and he was going to take it. He called out to a couple of the uninjured men in his unit and ordered them to help move the injured men out of the trench. Though stunned and shaken, they jumped into action.
Joe finally scrambled to the top of the trench, then, putting his other arm under Jesse's knees. He hoisted himself into a hunched position. Jesse almost rhythmically cried out in pain as Joe started jogging as fast as he could toward the clearing on the far end of the airstrip, as far from the trees as he could get.
Jesse's head lolled to the side, his whole broken body screaming from being jostled around in Joe's arms. His eyes were blurry slits, and he couldn't focus on any one thing as he drifted in and out of consciousness.
He could hear someone yelling. Joe. Joe was yelling. Joe was screaming; why was he screaming right in his ear? Didn't he know his head hurt so bad, so bad? He wanted Joe to stop yelling. Just stop!
But instead of anything stopping, Jesse started flying. He was taking off in the air one minute, bounced like a pinball against something or someone in the next, and then landed, flat on his back, in the middle of a pool of muddy water.
He couldn't hear Joe yelling anymore. All he could hear were indistinguishable noises around him and the thunderous pounding of his own heart before it all started to fade away from him once again.
Becca rolled her head to the left, her blurry vision soaking in only the bright light above her. She blinked a couple times as the stark white uniforms worn by two women she didn't know slowly came into focus.
One of the women came closer to her and smiled gently.
"Miss Schmidt?" she said softly, taking her hand. "Miss Schmidt, my name is Monica. Do you know where you are?"
Becca stared at the red cross on the woman's nurse's hat, and her eyes grew wide. She reached for her stomach.
"It's OK, dear," Monica said, as another nurse came to her side. "Your baby is fine."
"Why am I here?" Becca said in a loud, hoarse whisper. "What's happening?"
The second nurse stepped forward.
"You are severely dehydrated," she said with a hint of disgust in her voice. "You clearly haven't been taking in enough fluid. Haven't you been taking care of yourself?"
"I…yes," Becca said meekly, still trying to understand what was going on. Where were Liz and Penny?
The nurse snorted, and Monica shot her a disgusted look.
"No husband in the picture, I presume?" she said, judgment in her voice as she adjusted the sheets around Becca as Monica switched out her IV bag.
"Gladys!" Monica scolded.
"He's in Vietnam," Becca said, feeling stronger and not at all caring for the nurse's attitude. "The baby's father was dr…drafted into the Army."
"I see," Gladys said, pursing her lips together and shifting her gaze. Becca could have sworn she heard her mumble "another bab-killer bastard" under her breath, and anger sprang to her eyes.
"Our patient is awake, Gladys," Monica said, crossing her arms and glaring at her colleague. "Will you please go inquire after Dr. Goldman? He wanted to assess Miss Schmidt's condition as soon as she woke up."
With that, Gladys turned on her heels and left the room.
Monica picked up a blood pressure cuff and started to put it on Becca's arm.
"I feel better, much better," Becca said, putting her arm above her head and away from the nurse. Monica smiled softly as she lowered Becca's arm and put on the cuff. Becca nervously licked her lips.
"That's because of the fluid," the nurse said as she put on the cuff and started to tighten it around her arm. Monica's expression didn't reveal anything as she took the reading and wrote it down in her chart.
"H…how is it?" Becca asked, her voice shaky.
Monica gave her a downward frown.
"The doctor will be right in," she said just as Penny and Liz walked in the door.
"Becca!" Liz said, rushing to her bedside, Penny right behind her. "You're awake -- oh, thank God!"
Becca narrowed her eyes at them both.
"Why am I here?" she asked, searching their faces with a sad and confused expression on her face.
"We couldn't wake you up," Penny said somewhat sternly. "What were we supposed to do?"
"I would've, would've…" Becca started.
"No, you wouldn't have," Liz said, taking her hand. "You need to be here."
"Miss Schmidt?" said Dr. Goldman interrupted as he walked into the room, clipboard in hand.
"Yes," Becca said weakly, her scared eyes still on her friends, who began to back up toward the door to make room for the doctor.
"I'm Dr. Goldman," he said, introducing himself. "You gave your friends quite a scare."
Becca just closed her eyes and nodded once.
Dr. Goldman then examined her pregnant belly, measuring it with a tape measure, and then checked to see if she was at all dilated. He looked into her eyes and listened to her heart, then he picked up the chart he placed at the end of her bed. Monica, who was standing close by, looked at him expectantly.
