Angel of Mercy by Jackie McCallister Page B

station.”
    “Nonsense,” Gerald said. You’re a hell of a lot prettier than my brother. You sit there, and he can go find another chair. Or he can just go away, and I can get to know you.”
    Tim laughed. “Are you gonna be okay with this character, Chels? I need to call my wife anyway. I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t tire him out,” Tim said, throwing a wink his brother’s way. Chelsea smiled at Gerald, but felt a little bad that she had taken the patient’s brother’s chair nevertheless.
    It was apparent to her that Tim’s assertion that Gerald had been flirting with the nurses was probably based on fact. Gerald was a good looking guy, even in patient garb and was obviously at ease around females. Chelsea knew that it was a first impression, but her initial reaction was that Gerald was a little smooth for her taste. She preferred someone with a little more humility than what she was seeing from Gerald Giacomo.
    Gerald was unaware that Chelsea’s initial assessment was anything but good. “So, you were one of the ones that fixed me up. Good on ya’ Chelsea. Thanks. I mean that.” Chelsea answered, “I’m so glad you’re feeling better. I was there, but it was Captain McGuire whom you should be thanking. He did most of the work.”
    Gerald’s face turned serious. “Well, I’ll do just that if I see him. Truth be told, I don’t remember anything but what felt like a million hot needles being stuck in me and then a part of a bumpy helo ride. After that? Nothing until I woke up here.”
    “It’s not too surprising that you don’t remember much. The anesthetic that we gave you has some amnesia qualities to it. You were conscious but sedated.”
    “Well, I’m glad that you came by. I wouldn’t have wanted to forget someone as pretty as you.”
    Oh brother, Chelsea thought. Young Mr. Giacomo is good.
    Aloud she said, “I need to let you rest. I’ll come back in a day or two if you would like.”
    “Oh, I would like. Anytime. Maybe we could go dancing,” he said indicating his legs that were still bandaged from his ankles to his crotch. Chelsea smiled. “Maybe.”
    As she left Chelsea waved back toward the bed. Gerald was looking away by that time. When he wasn’t smiling there was something different about him. Chelsea noticed that his mouth turned down at the corners. Chelsea almost went back into the room to find out what was wrong, but she didn’t. She was sure that it was a trick of the light, or something. Downstairs, Tim Giacomo was finishing a cup of what Glynnis called coffee. It was actually more like road tar than anything else but it was black, hot, and would do until Starbucks came to Bagram. Chelsea sat down next to her friend. “He’s a lot of fun, your brother.”
    “He is most of the time. I’m glad that you talked to him. I worry about him.”
    Chelsea looked quizzically at Tim. “The infections are all under control. I don’t think anyone is expecting anything for him but a full recovery and a return to his unit.”
    Tim tossed his empty coffee cup into a trash can before answering. “It isn’t his injuries, or even the infections that came with them that I’m worrying about. My brother hasn’t seemed the same lately when we talk. He used to be pretty upbeat most of the time. You know, as he was when you first walked in. But he’s been…just different. I can’t explain it any better than that.”
    “Tim, do you think it’s the stress of where we are? Anyone would have mood swings under the circumstances.”
    “That could be it. I don’t know. Gerald used to write to me, email me, text me, something every three or four days. Then his unit went to Herat on maneuvers. They took some serious shelling from the rebels when they were there. It wasn’t the first, or even the worst, shelling that Gerald and A Company have taken. But it was right after that time out in the field that Gerald’s emails and texts became less frequent. And the things that he did send