Chapter 19: Child
A nurse is talking to him, hoping to distract him so another nurse can give him a shot.
Big men in security uniforms are yelling at him.
An orderly is trying to grab him.
His name is Sam.
Everyone is yelling, “Sammy…”
Sam cries.
Sam yells.
Sam tries to crawl under beds.
Sam is afraid.
There is a bad storm outside the hospital.
Thunder.
Lightning.
With every clap of thunder.
With every flash of lightning.
Sam tries to dig deeper under the bed.
With every clap, with every flash, Sam yells…
…incoming…
…VC…
…NVA…
…and he tries to hide.
With every clap, with every flash Sam once again becomes…
…seventeen and a half years old…
…and on patrol in Vietnam.
Back then no one called him Sam, no one called him Sammy or Samuel.
Back then he was known simply as…
…Child.
“Where is Jessica, where is Jessica, son of a bitch someone get Jessica in here.”
Sam gently rocks.
Sam is whispering, “Jessica…Jessica…”
More thunder, deeper rocking.
More lightning, quicker rocking.
“Here…here…here’s Jessica.”
Rocking slows.
Rocking stops.
Sam unfolds his arms and reaches up for Jessica.
And gently.
And carefully.
A dented, scratched, saxophone is placed in Sam’s hands.
It is the same sax he played in Vietnam.
It is named after his girlfriend who he left back home in Kansas after he was drafted.
The same Jessica who married someone else while he was serving in Vietnam.
This Jessica is never supposed to be out of his sight.
Especially during storms.
CHILD
“Where you from.”
“Kansas.”
“Where dat.”
“Between Oklahoma and Nebraska.”
“Where dey.”
“Boy I hope you get old enough to shave before you die.”
We called him “Child” because that’s exactly what he was.
Besides, there was another guy named “Kansas” who came from Kansas, wherever that was.
“If Kansas dies you have first dibs on the name, so who you, let us in.”
We are all sitting in mess with the new guy, er, kid.
Sent some good men home in bags, get a child sent back to us.
“Both my GrandPappy and my Daddy served, now my time…
…They, and my sisters, taking care of our farm and cattle. It was my turn to serve so I stepped up, gave my girlfriend a kiss and got on the Greyhound to KC and signed up.”
Some of us at the table are listening, some are not, they know not to get close to anyone, even a child.
More talk from Child, more not listening, then…
“I told the recruiter I would do whatever the United States Army wanted me to do but that if there was an opening in the United States Army Band, that would be great.”
Four heads suddenly turn Child’s way.
“The band, what.”
“That’s what I was hoping for.”
“Why.”
“So I could play, in season I work the farm but in the winter play in a band. Hoping to play in the Army Band, you know.”
“You play Rock.”
“Nope, Jazz.”
Now every head at the table is looking at Child.
“They have Jazz in this Kansas place.”
“Yes sir, not exactly where I live but in KC, Kansas City, yes sir they do.”
“So what do you play.”
“I play Jessica, I brought her, they said you never know the base may need me to play…”
“Play what and who is Jessica.”
“Oh sorry, Sax, I play the saxophone, just like my GrandPappy and Daddy.”
“And Jessica, she play too.”
Child laughs, “Ha, funny, no Jessica is the name of my Sax, I named her after my girlfriend back home.”
“Back in that Kansas place huh.”
“Yep, on our farm.”
And at the table the piano player, drummer and singer smiled.
The rain has stopped.
Thunder too.
Sam is back in bed.
The iron bar sides are up, his ankles are strapped in.
He is asleep.
Jessica is laying next to him.
The guard at the desk at the end of the room answers his phone, shakes his head yes twice, gets up and walks down to Sam’s bed and shakes his shoulder.
“Sam…Sam…wake up…wake up you have a visitor…”
Sam wakens, “Huh, who…”
The guard looks down at the note he scribbled during the call, “Um, someone named, um, huh…Blue…Mr. Blue.”
Sam is wide awake now, “…is he…is he a…”
The guard looks back down once again at his note, “Um…a large guy…yeah.”
The guard turns his notebook so Sam can see what he wrote.
And Sam starts giggling.
At the bottom of the page.
Scribbled he saw this: “…a Big Man.”
And below that, “…to see patient about something to do with a Band.”
