“Lieutenant James? May I visit him?” Macho asked.
“Yes, he’s in Room 412,” the nurse replied. Macho turned and smiled to herself as she walked away. No doubt Trench had this girl’s attention, as well as that of a harem of nurses who had bought into his program. Then she reminded herself that, yes, he was wounded in combat, undeclared or not.
Macho’s heels echoed as she walked to the end of the corridor and turned left. She slowed her pace when she saw that the door to Room 412 was open. She leaned forward to peer inside and saw someone in stocking feet and blue jeans on the bed.
“Trench?” she called in a soft tone.
The body flinched, and Trench said, “Who’s that!”
Macho walked in. “It’s me, Macho.”
Trench looked up with wide eyes, not at Macho but away from her, out of the corner of his left eye. His opened his mouth in shock at this unforeseen visit — from the last person he would have ever expected. He soon recovered, and his face went blank.
“Hey.”
Macho stepped to the foot of the bed, and as she did, Trench turned away from her. His wide eyes stared off into space.
“Hey. How are you doing?” she asked him.
“Okay. What brings you here?” His terse answers didn’t make it easy for Macho.
“I came to visit my shipmate.”
Trench closed his eyes and exhaled. “Why?”
“Because I sinned. And since I can’t make it up to the person I betrayed, I’m trying to make it up to you.”
Trench chuckled. “So, Wonder Woman won’t talk to you? Can’t say I blame her.”
“And you? Have you talked to her since she left the ship?”
“No, but I’ve heard she doesn’t blame me. It’s you and Coach…. mostly you.”
Absorbing the blow she deserved, Macho looked down to gather her thoughts. She tried a new tack.
“Can you see at all?”
“Yeah, but only with my peripheral vision. It’s like I always have a big black circle in front of me, like I’m holding my fist in front of my nose. I can tell you’re wearing a green dress and your hair is down, but I can’t focus on any details. 100 % disability. Soon to be Lieutenant, U.S. Navy, retired.”
“Teal.”
“Wha…?” Trench asked, turning his ear.
“Teal. The color of my dress.”
“Oh, yes, of course, my apologies. Teal. Please forgive my Neanderthal ignorance. Not really a word common to the ready room as I recall. Maybe not even a color found in nature, but you are right. It is important to always be right.”
Macho berated herself. You stupid bitch! Trench had his shields up. Teal. Green. It doesn’t matter. He was the one who was blind, and Macho knew her personality could be grating, always having the last word, always having to be respected. She had to stay in control of her emotions.
“Heh, no, you’re right. It’s green. Chicks know things like teal. Can’t help it.”
“Matches your eyes,” Trench said. Macho, stunned that Trench had ever noticed her eyes, didn’t know how to react.
“Tell me about the XO,” he added.
“She led a strike against their anti-ship missile launch facility. I was with Annie on that one. One of the sweepers was shot down — Lemur in VFA-62. He was about 15 miles off the coast, and the Venezuelans sent all kinds of small craft out to get him. Annie got us some gas and took us back as On-Scene Commander. We were shooting ‘Winders at them, strafing, but they just kept coming. The Flintlocks found Lemur and were hoisting him up as Woody and I were off chasing a Flanker. Annie was by herself, and she was making cold runs…. She even pickled her drop tanks on them, anything to hold them off. She was flying through small arms, got hit, lost an engine and was on fire, and still she came back to unload her last drop tank. She was slow in her dive and took a hit by a Grail. She corkscrewed in and didn’t get out. I saw it.”
“Did they put her in for a medal?”
“Medal of Honor. Skipper wrote the citation.”
“Wow. They should name a ship after her. Annie was a good XO. I always liked her husband.”
“It got downgraded,” Macho sighed. “SOUTHCOM weenies wanted to downplay the military action and not spin up the region by recognizing someone—a woman especially—with a high-profile award like that. She’s getting a Silver Star — same as me — and all I did was shoot a guy in the face with a bigger missile. Never really saw him. She was down there among them, taking fire the whole time, giving everything to keep them off Lemur. I’ll never forget her.”
Trench let it sink in, the unfairness of the decision by guys who were miles away in headquarters and whose biggest risk was the evening commute. Fuck ‘em, he thought, knowing they weren’t qualified to shine Annie’s shoes. “And the Skipper?” he asked.
“He came back to us after spending three days on the ground in frickin’ Trinidad. The Flintlocks got him, too, after they and the Hunters shot down something like ten helos—Hind gunships and shit. At night. Skipper was holed up with a priest and holding off drug guys and Venezuelan soldiers. I guess it was like the OK Corral. Skipper was beat up bad, but he took out some bad guys. Shot one point-blank with his .45.”
“Holy shit.” Trench shook his head in amazement as he absorbed her account.
They spent a few more minutes catching up on everyone, and then the small talk seemed to dry up. Macho wasn’t sure how to proceed, so Trench did it for her.
“No more bullshit, Macho. Why did you come here?”
She took a breath. “I had to reconcile with you. I hated you, and I’m done with hate.”
Trench thought for a moment before he spoke. “Why did you hate me?”
“Because you embodied everything I hate about guys. The frat-boy culture, the porn stash, the catcalls, the hook-ups….”
“So that justified your holier-than-thou condescension, the bitchy sermonizing?” Trench added.
Macho recoiled at his cutting remark but nodded to herself. He’s right.
“Great then. You’ve seen me in a fucking hospital ward, broken, depending on the chicks out there to bring me food, and with a bright future at Lighthouse for the Blind. You won, Macho. Coach and I are out of the Firebirds. You got what you fucking wanted. Now leave.”
“Please forgive me!”
Trench looked up, his way of observing what he could of her. His anger melted, but he was puzzled. “Why? What did you do to me?”
“I used Shane to set you up.”
“I know…. Why do you come here and apologize to me instead of her?”
Macho gathered her thoughts.
“I want to get it off my chest, to let go. To put it behind us and move on.”
“Fine. Thanks for coming. Safe trip to wherever Shane is,” Trench muttered as he turned away from her.
Macho pursed her lips and swallowed. She had hoped it would go better, but Trench wasn’t going to make it easy on her. Still, she had done what she came to do, and, resigned, she gathered her bag and stepped toward the door. Her heels echoed in the chasm of bitterness between them.
When she got to the door, Trench spoke in a low tone, “Tiffany.”
Macho turned and saw Trench standing by the bed, looking away, but his hand was stretched out to her.