"Parents tend to like me." He said, which wasn't a surprise, he was polite, well spoken and clean. "It’s the kids I usually
have to work on." He said with a smile. "Uh...no one. And everyone. The neighborhood basically. Kid down the road
cuts the grass, and I pay him when I'm in town. The older people let the new comers know that's a Delta's retreat
house. Haven't been vandalized or broken into yet. So that's a good sign. I call a few days before I head back and my
sister goes in and opens the windows, stocks the place with food. That sort of thing."
She chuckled.
"That also means whenever you're home everyone knows what you're up to." She stated with a smile, reaching up to
drape the dish towel over his wide shoulder. "How many of them bring you home cooked meals when you're home in
the hopes of getting good gossip?"
"Man, and here I thought they were just being nice." He said with a chuckle. "Well, let's just say my sister just picks up
the staples, bread, milk, eggs, and soda. And tabasco." He added with a laugh. "Can't forget that. The rest of the time I
just live off barbeque and casseroles that I thought were so nicely given to me."
She laughed at that. Not doubting that mothers with single daughters found reasons to visit him with food too. "At least
you don't go hungry. Or have to eat burnt food all the time. Or gumpo. A bit of gossip sounds like a fair trade for that."
"Gumbo," he said slowly with a grin. "Is a delicacy. Make a big old pot of it, a guy can live for at least two weeks. But
everyone makes it a little different, different family recipe and tinkering, so I make my own." He took the dishtowel off
his shoulder and wound it around his hands as he watched her. "And you did promise to eat it, remember?"
Her eyebrows went up and she took a sliding step out of arm's reach. Trying very hard to not laugh. Eyes dancing.
"I did no such thing." She protested in mock horror. "You said you put fish tails and crab eyes and dirty sneakers in it."
She might not be able to out run him but given the cluttered interior and the fact she knew it by heart even in the dark,
she thought she could out dodge him for a bit at least. "I shouldn't trust anything you try to give me after that horrible
sauce."
"Oh you did so." He countered. "I said I'd make it and you said you'd like that. You could only possibly like it if you ate
it. And here you are insulting my grandma's recipe." He shook his head jokingly. "Okay you're partly right. There are
crab eyes cause there's whole crabs, so I gotta let you have that one."
She didn't have to fake the widening eyes now.
"Whole crabs?" she asked. "With their little faces still on?"
"Sure." He said jovially. "And shrimp and crawfish. Add in some oysters...man you're making me hungry now." He
grabbed the flashlight and idly shone it around the room as he listed the ingredients from memory. "Then throw it all in
a big stew pot and let it simmer for a couple of hours....if I wasn't homesick before, I am now!"
She laughed as she reached in, taking one of his larger hands in both of hers.
"I just fed you." She chided. Enjoying the way he could bring so much of his world back in the States to the interior of
this tent in the middle of Africa, just by telling his stories and the slow, easy drawl of his voice relaxing all the words.
She still wasn't sure about this 'gumbo' idea. But she would have enjoyed simply watching him make it. And didn't want
to think about the unlikelihood of that. "Come on," she tugged his hand lightly, giving him a smile. "Let's go for a walk
or something before you eat the entire store in here and leave nothing for breakfast."
"Please, I've gone days without food." He said laughing, letting her lead him out by the hand through the darkened
kitchen, but taking the flashlight with them. Wouldn't do to surprise the Deltas he was sure were patrolling discreetly, or
the few Rangers who had finally gotten back on their feet.
"But sure, a walk sounds good." He said.
She drew in a deep breath as she straightened from ducking out of the tent. African nights, even here in the middle of
the camp instead of out on the plains, still always settled something quiet and peaceful inside her.
Hector didn't seem tired. Like his talk about going without food, she suspected the sleep he'd gotten in the past couple
of days was probably considered more than enough as well. It didn't mean she wasn't going to try to get him to sleep
more later on. But for now...
"I wish I had somewhere nicer to walk with you. Other than the motor pool or down past the supply tents." She gave
him a smile as she said it, looking over her shoulder at him. "Back home you can leave the compound and there's a
river a little way off. In the middle of the night you feel like the only person in all the world there." She didn't think she'd
mention that you always went armed when you walked alone at night and not for the humans that were in the area.
"Without all the lights and noise, the sky seems to go on forever."
"Nah this is fine." He said. "Actually gives me something to write home about. See, everyone back home complains
about the heat, 90s more or less, and worship the air conditioning." Course there had humidity thrown in, which made
it heavier. But anyway. "Gives me something to razz on them about." But he wouldn't breathe a word about Andi, well
maybe a casual mention in the middle of a sentence or something. He didn't want to subject her to his family and
friend's cross examination, when he himself didn't know how to answer those questions.
"Who do you write to?" She asked curiously, starting off in whichever direction her feet started. One end of the camp
pretty much resembled the other. So they were just walking to walk. She left her hand in his. Feeling the warmth and
roughness on his skin where the callouses had formed. Grandda, and Da, always said you should never trust a man
that didn't have callouses on his hands. Absent she rubbed a thumb lightly across one of his.
"And who do you get letters from?"
"My sister mainly." He said. "In the last big conflict we had I had an entire fifth grade class write to me, that was cool.
Scattered relatives sometimes, but mainly Cassie. She keeps me up to date. She has two kids, Josh and Marcella.
Absolutely great kids. Josh, he's five, has a dirt collection. I'm serious. I bring him back baggies of dirt from the places
I've been, and he collects them."
She laughed at that, covering her lips with her free hand.
"You bring your nephew bags of dirt?" she managed. "Most five years olds I've known have either been digging in dirt
or eating it. That's the first I've heard of collecting it. What's he going to do in twenty years when his collection fills a
room? And how'd he get started collecting dirt in the first place?" she asked, looking up at him with mock suspicion.
"Oh I did." He admitted honestly. "Kid has to have some hobby. Besides, he takes them to school in little sealed vases
my sister sets up and everyone thinks he's the king of kindergarten. Helps him see there's life beyond America, you
know. So he's got a collection from China, Taiwan, Afghanistan, Kosovo, Iraq, Kuwait...basically a lot of sand. But he
likes it. I'm an uncle. I'm supposed to do weird things like that, or take him to bars and stag parties. And I'm not around
enough for that."
"Mm." She commented, still smiling. "I'm sure his mother appreciates the sand as opposed to the bars considering he's
only five." She glanced up sideways at him. Stated softly: "You miss having children around, don't you? That's why you
were so good with the ones I'm taking care of. That first night, when you told them stories." She was so used to their
fragile little hearts and their endless trust being abused. It broke her own heart to watch the faith in their eyes die as
the people they loved and relied on failed them. When she'd thought a stranger was pulling their heartstrings for his
own purposes... She stopped walking. Lifted her face to meet his eyes and rested a hand over his heart. "I hate seeing
them hurt. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." He said. "I did use them for my own purposes. I just happened to enjoy it while I was doing it. I do
miss kids, they're just so full of life, they haven’t learned to be tired yet. Not even these kids, though God knows we've
all given them reason to be tired." He shrugged a bit as they stood there, she had stopped. "I needed their trust so
they wouldn't sell us out. And they needed to smile for once." He said softly.
She searched his dark eyes. Balancing what he'd shown her of his heart so far against what his job called on him to do.
His earning the children's affection so that they wouldn't tell the warlords wouldn't do them harm. Not if he did nothing
to betray that trust before he left. After all, it would hardly take more than the promise of sweets to have the younger
children happily talking about their American storyteller without even realizing what they were giving away. It was one
of the reasons she was keeping them all in the camp instead of sending them back to the refugee villages that had
grown nearby.
He must hate the double faces to some of his jobs.
She reached up to touch his cheek gently. Eyes soft.
"They do deserve the chance to smile." She agreed.
"Besides, they'll remember me." He said. His stories were far too outrageous to be forgotten, after all. "And they'll tell
their kids about the American soldier who entertained them without hurting them, and their kids will tell their kids....it’s
not much, but it helps." In showing he wasn't the bad guy at least.
"It does." She agreed softly, stepping back as her fingers laced through his to start walking again. Knowing that as
much as men like him tried to teach those children love, other men were trying to teach them hate. One side trying to
offer hope and a way to live, the other filling them with nothing but dreams of death. And all too often, in conditions like
this, the other side won.
It broke her heart when she realized the militia and warlords of today that brought so much pain and suffering to their
own people had once been children just like the ones she cared for now.
"Several of them asked about you today. Wondered where you were. They thought you were another doctor and
going to stay here now. I told them your friend was very sick and that you were staying with him." She looked up at the
stars above. "They understand that kind of thing." I understand that kind of thing, she wanted to add. Because she
and the children both knew that people moved on and out of your life regularly. "Ahmad said he would share his food
with you if you came back."
Ahmad was the young boy Hector had mentioned his first night here. The one that had thrown the grenade.
"Think I'll take him up on it." Hector knew in a land where there was no food, the offer to share food was a great one.
One that could be turned down only with insult. Even if Hector took only a bite, it was enough.
Something caught his eye in the dark and he stopped and turned her toward him and leaned forward as if to kiss her
again, but his mouth ended up by her ear. "Do me a favor. Walk calmly back to the med tent. Don't look back. Just
walk. Quickly, but calmly. Act as if I've insulted you or something."
Andi's eyebrows came down and she took a step back from him, chin lifting slightly. She gave his chest a hard push.
"Don't you pull that with me." She snapped. Narrowed eyes meeting his. "And you owe me an explanation." She
warned. And then turned on her heel and left him. Which wasn't first choice of how to react to the situation of course.
But she had enough common sense to realize that anything else would more get in the way then be the least bit
helpful.
She didn't go directly to the med tent though. She stopped by the showers first. Mike had a routine like clockwork and
she didn't even have to check her watch anymore to know exactly where he was going to be.
He was standing there in a pair of old sweats, and the explosive scarring across his chest and back was visible as he
pulled on a t-shirt. Andi ignored it.
"Something weird's going on down near the car pool." She stated simply. "Hector's checking it out. I'm going to go give
Swanson a head's up too."
Mike gave Andi a look as he quickly pulled on the t shirt. "Something going on? Do I even want to know what the Delta
is mixed up in now?" He asked, shaking his head as he slipped on his sneakers. He bent over to tie them, still shaking
his head at the myriad possibilities that sent Andi packing on alert. "Swanson's in the admin tent. Warning though, I
saw Suzette head in there, probably on the way to add another man to her list."
If she was specifically going for Swanson, the new accountant, that meant he was one of the undercover Deltas. Poor
Suzette, the French woman had no idea. He straightened up and looked at Andi. "Car pool? I'll head down now."
"Thanks." Andi gave him a quick smile. All the Delta and Rangers in the world wouldn't make her feel half as safe as
Mike did. Mostly because she trusted him completely. And it helped that she'd seen him pull his share of miracles and
miraculous appearances too.
"I'll go interrupt Suz. Its only fair after all." She commented as they parted at the door. Mike headed toward the other
side of the camp and Andi toward the medical and administration tents. It was funny really, Andi thought, murmuring a
silent prayer as she walked. Suz was so set on keeping her away from an American soldier and here she was going to
return the favor. If she wasn't working so hard on forcing herself not to worry, she would have been laughing about it.