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Authors: Patrick Dakin
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may be.”
“What about you ? You’ve never talked about Nam.”
“I know. But I’m going to. When I’m ready.”
“And when do you know you’re ready?”
“That I don’t know,” he said. “But I think I do know why talking about it is so hard.”
“And?”
“It’s like … nobody is ever going to really understand what I went through during the war. I’m not good enough with words that I can explain it in a way that people will truly comprehend . I guess I’m afraid people will say ‘Shit, man, what’s the big deal? So you killed some gooks that needed killing. Get over it.’ But there was a lot more to it than that . A fuck of a lot more . Y a know?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think maybe I can understand that.”
“It’s different with you,” he continued. “ In your case y ou lost people you love. I’ll grant you it’s probably the hardest thing in the world to accept b ut, eventually, the pain will ease. Even though you think it’s impossible now, someday you’ll wake up and the pain you’re feeling won’t be as bad. With me it’s different. It’s more like I lost myself in that fucking war . I don’t know exactly who I am anymore. All I know is , whoever I am, I’m not the same person I was. ”
Whatever point Con was trying to make was lost on me. I wasn’t even sure there was a point. I knew that whatever it was he was going through I would gladly trade him for what life had served up to me. “It’s not just that I lost people I love, Con. It’s that my stupidity allowed it to happen. If I had …”
That was as far as I could go. The volcano of tears that sat near the surface of my consciousness was once again ready to erupt.
Con knew better than to push it.
We were silent for a long time after that.
It was late afternoon when we arrived in Lumberton. It took a while to get the RV released and by then it was close to suppertime. I suggested we grab some dinner.
I drove the motor home to an Italian specialty restaurant in town and Con followed in the pickup. Once we had ordered and been provided with a couple of beers Con held his glass up for a toast. I obliged and he touched the rim of his glass to mine . “Here’s to a better future,” he said.
I nodded. It would be damn hard to imagine a worse one, I thought to myself.
“You still feel the same way about things as you did the other night,” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“ W hat you said about Henderson. What you’d do if you ever got a hold of him.”
I took a sip of my beer. Why would he think anything had changed? I ignored the question.
“You know,” Con said, “ in my experience somebody on the run like that almost always return s to familiar ground. I been doing some reading up on this Henderson. If I had to make a guess I’d say there’s a pretty good chance he’s holed up in the same mountains where that cabin of his was.”
“There’s a million square miles of nothing but wilderness up there, Con. Even if you’re right, t hat’s a hell of a lot of country to hide in.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, then sat thinking about it. “Don’t know whether I ever mentioned it or not b ut I had a pretty good re p as a tracker in Nam .”
I stared at him over the rim of my beer glass . “What are you saying,
“What about you ? You’ve never talked about Nam.”
“I know. But I’m going to. When I’m ready.”
“And when do you know you’re ready?”
“That I don’t know,” he said. “But I think I do know why talking about it is so hard.”
“And?”
“It’s like … nobody is ever going to really understand what I went through during the war. I’m not good enough with words that I can explain it in a way that people will truly comprehend . I guess I’m afraid people will say ‘Shit, man, what’s the big deal? So you killed some gooks that needed killing. Get over it.’ But there was a lot more to it than that . A fuck of a lot more . Y a know?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think maybe I can understand that.”
“It’s different with you,” he continued. “ In your case y ou lost people you love. I’ll grant you it’s probably the hardest thing in the world to accept b ut, eventually, the pain will ease. Even though you think it’s impossible now, someday you’ll wake up and the pain you’re feeling won’t be as bad. With me it’s different. It’s more like I lost myself in that fucking war . I don’t know exactly who I am anymore. All I know is , whoever I am, I’m not the same person I was. ”
Whatever point Con was trying to make was lost on me. I wasn’t even sure there was a point. I knew that whatever it was he was going through I would gladly trade him for what life had served up to me. “It’s not just that I lost people I love, Con. It’s that my stupidity allowed it to happen. If I had …”
That was as far as I could go. The volcano of tears that sat near the surface of my consciousness was once again ready to erupt.
Con knew better than to push it.
We were silent for a long time after that.
It was late afternoon when we arrived in Lumberton. It took a while to get the RV released and by then it was close to suppertime. I suggested we grab some dinner.
I drove the motor home to an Italian specialty restaurant in town and Con followed in the pickup. Once we had ordered and been provided with a couple of beers Con held his glass up for a toast. I obliged and he touched the rim of his glass to mine . “Here’s to a better future,” he said.
I nodded. It would be damn hard to imagine a worse one, I thought to myself.
“You still feel the same way about things as you did the other night,” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“ W hat you said about Henderson. What you’d do if you ever got a hold of him.”
I took a sip of my beer. Why would he think anything had changed? I ignored the question.
“You know,” Con said, “ in my experience somebody on the run like that almost always return s to familiar ground. I been doing some reading up on this Henderson. If I had to make a guess I’d say there’s a pretty good chance he’s holed up in the same mountains where that cabin of his was.”
“There’s a million square miles of nothing but wilderness up there, Con. Even if you’re right, t hat’s a hell of a lot of country to hide in.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, then sat thinking about it. “Don’t know whether I ever mentioned it or not b ut I had a pretty good re p as a tracker in Nam .”
I stared at him over the rim of my beer glass . “What are you saying,
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