“Andrew, I can’t see,” she said weakly.
“That’s because your eyes are bandaged… but its okay, you’re going to be fine,” he reassured her.
“But what if it isn’t..? What happened?”
“It will be and we’ll talk about what happened later. Right now, you just need to get better. I love you and—don’t worry—not at all,” he admonished.
The doctor reappeared and Andrew kissed her hand and said, “I’ll be back,” saying to the doctor, “Take good care of her.”
Father Ben was smiling, “She’s awake?” he asked.
“Yes, thank God.” Andrew drew a deep breath.
“Yes, indeed thank God,” Ben replied.
Jack stood forlornly by the door. “Andy, I am so sorry—this should never have happened to you.”
“I’m sorry too, but too many things have happened that shouldn’t have and I’m going find out what’s behind them.”
Jack nodded his head as Andrew continued, “When this all settles down I want to know the rest of the story with you and Kelshaw.”
Looking into space Jack murmured, “Yeah.”
Father Ben had been watching Jack as he and Andrew were talking. Drawing Andrew aside he said in a low voice, “Keep us informed of Charlene’s progress and don’t worry, Andrew, her eyes will be just fine,” he assured. Then turning to Hubbard he said, “Come with me to the Center—I could use your help today, Jack,” he directed.
After speaking briefly with Andrew, Jack obediently followed the priest.
Dr. Bennett called Andrew into a small conference area saying, “Here’s the situation; Ms. Thayer doesn’t appear to have any significant injuries other than superficial cuts and abrasions and a mild concussion. However, she has experienced what often happens to people who have been close to an explosion; in layman’s terms, her eyes were burned by the flash.
“Although she was close to the explosion, the timing of the passing vehicle somewhat shielded her from its full force. We have taken precautions and have had an ophthalmologist evaluate her condition. We’re going to keep her for a few more days and then she can go home, but until the bandages can be removed from her eyes someone must be with her.”
Andrew listened attentively, and assured Dr. Bennett, “That’s good news, Doc, and she’ll be well taken care of. Now, may I tell her?” Andrew asked eagerly.
The doctor nodded, “Go ahead, I’ll follow up with instructions.”
It was mid-morning when Father Ben and Jack arrived at the Center; Sister Ruth, Byron and Davey were busy unpacking and putting away supplies.
Seeing Father Ben, Sister Ruth eagerly seeking news asked, “How are Mrs. Thayer and Andrew, of course?”
“You will be happy to learn that Charlene is awake and Andrew is much better! But when she is released from the hospital she is going to need some care because her eyes have been injured—do you think she might stay at the Convent for little while?”
Ruth’s face lit up, “Of course, Father; you didn’t even have to ask.”
“Well Andrew has volunteered to stay with her…” he didn’t finish.
“Well, of course not!” Sister Ruth exclaimed. “He’s much too busy and besides we can’t have that,” she stated.
Father Ben smiled, “That’s what I thought, but we’ll cross that bridge when Andrew comes to it; by the way, this is Andrew’s friend Jack Hubbard, Sister Ruth Myers, Byron Curtis and Davey Collins,” he said introducing each of them. “The Center would not run without these three people who keep me going too.”
Byron and Davey both smiled and shook Jack’s hand and Sister Ruth gave him a hug saying, “I’m so excited to meet you—I’ve read so many of your columns, I feel I almost know you.”
Sister Ruth just smiled, “You’re a good friend to Andrew and that makes you our good friend!” Jack relaxed.
Father Ben broke in, “Come into my office, Jack, we can talk there. I have a comfortable chair that just might fit you. Would you like some coffee?” Ben asked as Jack settled into a deep seated leather chair. “Andrew says that our coffee is terrible, but I drink tea so…,” he smiled.
Jack requested coffee in spite of Ben’s warnings and Ben said, “I’ll have Davey bring us some.”
Noting Davey’s childlike mannerisms, Jack commented, “Father Ben, Davey seems to have found a niche here at the Center. He seems happy.”
“Yes, Davey is much help to me and to all of us here. You have noticed he has a slight disability, but he has a good understanding of what needs to be done. When Mr. Kelshaw was attacked there was no one else I could rely on. Sister Ruth and Byron had gone for the day; Davey had to stand in the gap for me, closing and locking the Center without anyone guiding him and he did it very well. I have come to look at him through new eyes.”
Davey brought the coffee and tea closing the door to the office on his way out.
Father Ben began, “I saw your face while you were conversing with Andrew about Mr. Kelshaw at the hospital, Jack. It was very disturbing to you. I know that he was your friend, but I sense there is something else.”
Jack sat motionless and silent, then looking at Ben, he sighed, “Yes, Father Ben, there is something else and I don’t know if I can even talk about it right now,” he said carefully setting his coffee mug on the desk.
Ben sat in a chair opposite Jack and studied him for a moment before responding, “My friend, you need some relief from the weight of the burden you carry. If you do not get it, I am afraid it will continue to grow and devour you. While I do not know if I am the one to help you, I do know that allowing light into our dark places is often a way to begin the healing process. And perhaps later, together, we can work on finding a solution.”
“It was partly the explosion…” Jack offered.
“You mean the event that triggered Sunday night? But you didn’t know it was Andrew and Charlene… so it was the event itself.”
Jack mumbled, “Yes, Something like that.”
There was a period of silence—Ben waited.
Jack was thinking, “This isn’t going to be easy.” He spoke softly, “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Why not talk about George Kelshaw? When was the last time you saw him?”
“In July in Bangkok.”
“Of this year?”
“Yes.”
“How did you find him?”
“He found me… he had been looking for me after he had escaped from the Pathet Lao. He had escaped with the help of Hmongs and a Chinese man, and had gone to Vientiane where we had originally set up a meeting place. I had left word with my contacts where I would be in Bangkok.
“He and his Chinese friend had to get out of Vientiane and they made it to Bangkok where he found me. George was afraid he was being followed; he wasn’t sure by whom, but it could have been the Pathet Lao. At the time George was very sick he had malaria and he had not recovered from the treatment he had received as a POW.
“He knew whoever was following him had trailed him and his Chinese friend to Bangkok, so we had to be very careful to protect him while he was regaining his strength. Even so, George had a task he felt driven to undertake before he would leave Bangkok.”
Father Ben asked, “He was a prisoner for how long?”
“Nearly five years, from 1973 to 1978. We were captured together.”
Father Ben stopped and looked incredulously at Jack, “You said, ‘we were captured’—were you a prisoner, Jack?”
“Yes, and it was my fault; at least it was because of me that George was captured,” he answered.
“What do you mean—your fault?” Father Ben asked.
“If he hadn’t been slowed down by me, he might have gotten away. I insisted that I go with him; I wanted an exclusive story—and I wanted to meet Vang Pao.”