Paul McKellips - Jericho 3

Old Seabury started to cry on the video. Raines looked over as tears gushed out of Camp’s eyes too.

“Don’t cry for me, son. I have lived a long and wonderful life. Your mother was smokin’ hot, so that made it easier to endure! They say I might not even know you when you come back from the war. My mind is foggier than it once was… but my heart is as clear as ever. I love you, Seabury Campbell, Junior… I will always love you… you’re my boy… you are my hero.”

Camp and Raines watched old Sea Bee get off of his milking stool and move to an extreme close up as he fiddled with the camera’s buttons.

“How do you turn this damn thing off?” Sea Bee said as the picture finally went black.

Raines threw both of her arms around Camp as he collapsed in her arms.

“I don’t know what to say,” Camp whispered as Raines held him tightly.

“I didn’t know what to do, Camp,” Raines whispered back.

Her arms released him and Camp sat up and looked at her tender eyes.

“You were there for me, Les. You stepped in and took care of my family. I don’t know what to say.”

Raines wiped the tears from Camp’s face and stroked his squared chin.

“Are you mad at me? For not telling you?”

Camp closed his eyes and smiled. “Mad? How could I be mad at a woman as selfless as you? A woman who took care of my parents with such incredible and unselfish love; Leslie, I am beyond grateful. I’m in love with you.”

Leslie’s lower lip started to quiver. Her smile emerged as her tears welled.

“Look at the two of us. We’re a mess,” Raines said as she reached for Camp’s hand. “Tired?”

Camp nodded. Standing up, she took him by the hand. He grabbed his phone as she led him into the bedroom where two vanilla candles were burning on each night table. Camp sat on the edge of the bed as Leslie pulled the button-down white dress shirt up and over her head. He removed his NAVY t-shirt as she tugged on the running shorts that quickly landed on the bedroom floor. Leslie pressed her body against his and kissed away the tears that soaked his face as they made love.

Lightner Farms

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

A car pulled up outside of Lightner Farms Bed and Breakfast. It was almost eight o’clock at night, but the lights were still on even though there were no other cars in the parking lot.

The dome light was turned on and as the address on the envelope was verified: Eileen, Lightner Farms, Baltimore Pike, and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

The traveler grabbed a bag from the trunk of the car and stepped up to the door and knocked. An attractive woman in her mid-40s walked through the kitchen and turned the porch light on at the side door by the parking lot.

“Can I help you?” Eileen asked as she opened the door and greeted the stranger.

Eileen’s face coiled ever so slightly as she looked into the badly disfigured face of another woman who wore a head scarf and was carrying a bag.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I was hoping to rent a room for the night.”

“Actually, it’s pretty late and I—”

“I’m from Afghanistan. Captain Campbell said you had a beautiful lodge.”

Though polite at first, Eileen demonstrated renewed hospitality and warmth now that Camp’s name had been dropped. She welcomed the lady into Lightner and got her new guest settled into room number seven and went back downstairs to put a kettle of water on the stove for hot tea.

The guest sat at the long wooden table while Eileen put the tea bags in the porcelain cups on top of the saucers that had once belonged to her grandmother. She carried the tray full of tea, milk and sugar and put them down on the table. Eileen went back to the kitchen and emptied a box of Girl Scout cookies onto an antique white dish.

“Tell me your name,” Eileen asked softly.

“Miriam… I was Captain Campbell’s interpreter… before the fire.”

Eileen looked at the scars on Miriam’s face. She was heartbroken. She had seen many burns as an ICU nurse in Texas, but burns on the face were the most dreadful.

“Oh, you poor thing… my heart breaks for you, Miriam.”

“Captain Campbell saved my life.”

“That doesn’t surprise me… he saved hundreds of lives in Iraq.”

Miriam took a bite of a cookie and pulled the tea bag out of her cup and squeezed it out.

“Is that your phone?” Miriam said pointing to Eileen’s iPhone on the table.

“Yes, yes it is. Do you need to call someone?”

“I was wondering if Captain Campbell is home yet. I would like to thank him in person… but I’d like to keep it a surprise.”

“Well, let’s send him a text message on his phone and see if he responds.”

“Don’t tell him I’m here… I want to surprise him.”

Eileen pulled up Camp’s last text message, the one he sent after Jane’s funeral and before he deployed to Afghanistan.

HEY THERE… ARE YOU STATESIDE?

Eileen showed the message to Miriam and then pressed send. Within seconds the response was received.

JUST GOT BACK ON FRIDAY… EXHAUSTED… WILL COME SEE YOU SOON. LOVE YOU!

Eileen showed the text response to Miriam, and they both smiled.

“Do you have family, Miriam?”

Miriam’s eyes welled with tears. Eileen knew that look and reached out to hold her hand.

“My husband was killed after the fire. I do not know about my son. My sister says he was probably killed as well.”

“Terrorists?”

Eileen watched as a flash of fire bolted across Miriam’s scarred face.

“Oh, yes… terrorists!”

Eileen and Miriam finished their tea, and Miriam was invited to sit in the oversized leather chairs in front of the Civil War era hearth as Eileen took the dishes to the sink. Miriam opened her bag and pulled it back closer to the fireplace.

“After the fire I was taken to Kabul to recuperate. Once I was good to travel, the State Department put me in the SIV, special immigrant visa program for refugees. I landed in Virginia six weeks ago, and they gave me a one bedroom apartment and said I could live in it for six months. Then I would need to find a job and make money to pay for my rent and buy my food. I don’t know anyone.”

Eileen sat down in the chair next to Miriam.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a job when your face looks like this, Eileen?”

Eileen cringed and felt sad for the Afghan as Miriam stood up and paced behind Eileen and the leather chairs in front of the large fireplace.

“Everything I had was taken from me in Afghanistan. My husband, my son, my friends, my way of life… even my face. The only thing I knew about America was Eileen, on the Baltimore Pike, and her Lightner Farms Bed and Breakfast.”

Eileen was touched to the core by Miriam’s story. She grabbed a tissue and the blanket from the ottoman to cover her legs.

“But I will make it… I have a second chance now.”

Miriam bent down, removed her hijab, and pulled a bottle of ether out of her bag. She poured a few ounces into the hijab as Eileen started to detect the odor.

“Is that nail polish?” Eileen asked. Miriam ignored her question.

“God has given me the second chance to make things right… and I want to personally thank Captain Campbell for all he did for me.”

Miriam lunged at Eileen and covered her face with the hijab that was drenched in ether. Eileen fought her for a few seconds then her grip slipped and her arms fell limp. Eileen was fading but heard Miriam begin to tape her body to the oversized leather chair. She heard Miriam walk to the kitchen and felt a dish rag go into her mouth before she fell completely asleep.

Miriam ran to the table and picked up Eileen’s iPhone. The last text from Captain Campbell was up. She typed in the response.