Operation Oleander (9780547534213) by Valerie O. Patterson Page A

the paperwork said.
    He starts over. “I wanted to tell you in person how sorry I am your dad’s been wounded. Warren’s a tough guy. He’ll be back on his feet and into that uniform. No question.” He seems to believe what he says, the way Father Killen did.
    â€œThank you. We want to get back into the fundraising, too,” I say.
    Sam inhales sharply, and I realize I’ve said something I shouldn’t have.
    â€œWe’ve all had a shock,” Commander Butler says. “And we do have to rally around our military families.” He pauses. “I know you’ve worked really hard for the orphanage, and I wasn’t going to say anything here. But, since you mentioned it, I think under the circumstances . . .” His voice trails off. “Under the circumstances” is how adults condense all the bad things into three words that sound so plain. As if three words can contain everything that’s happened since yesterday.
    If I walk away, then he can’t say the words I know are coming. But my body won’t move.
    â€œI have to ask you to take a hiatus from the charity drive. Folks around here don’t want to be reminded of the orphanage at the moment. It’s like an open wound.”
    â€œBut it isn’t the orphans’ fault.”
    Commander Butler shifts his weight from one foot to the other. The same way Sam does when someone says something he disagrees with. That’s where Sam must get it.
    From the corner of my eye, I see Sam start to shift. He knows what’s coming too.
    â€œI have to take into account everyone on post. I’ve been specifically asked to consider the feelings of others about the orphanage, Jess. Not just the people involved in Operation Oleander.”
    â€œWho?” The woman who complained we were manipulating peoples’ emotions? The man who brushed our poster from its stand as he hurried his pregnant wife away?
    â€œIt was Mr. Scott.”
    An invisible punch hits my stomach.
    â€œBut—” He supported the idea. Maybe he forgot how Mrs. Scott enjoyed stopping by the orphanage. “Corporal Scott cares”—I catch myself—“cared about the orphanage.”
    â€œNo one doubts that. We all do. But for now I have to ask you to stand down.”
    â€œStand down?” As if I am a soldier.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œJessica, I’m commander of the post. Everyone on Fort Spencer is my responsibility. First and foremost, the welfare of my troops and fulfillment of our mission. Relations with indigenous populations—local inhabitants like those children at the orphanage—that’s a role for civilian agencies. Not combat soldiers. The rules over there are changing.”
    â€œYou think they did something wrong.” I’m not asking a question. The words shoot out of my mouth. Images from the television report flicker across my vision. “My dad would never dishonor the military.”
    Sam’s eyes are like the owl’s again. Sad and knowing. He’d known his father felt this way, and he didn’t warn me. Did he plan that we’d run into his dad?
    â€œI know that. Warren’s an honorable man. But there will be a review of interactions between soldiers and civilians. In hopes we can avoid something like this ever happening again.”
    â€œA review? How long will we have to stand down?”
    Beside me Sam is fairly tap-dancing in place, he’s so tense.
    But Commander Butler isn’t shifting anymore. His body is planted tall and rigid. “Until I give the all clear. If I do. Be patient. There may be other options. The review will be fair.”
    I stand still, my hands at my sides. If I were a soldier, I’d have to salute him back and say, “Yes, sir.”
    But I’m not.
    â€œTell your dad we’re behind him,” Commander Butler says.
    â€œWhen he gets out of the coma.”
    If.
    Sam breaks.