Chapter One, Part Two: Please Do Not Kill the Messenger
As he sat nervously smoking in the waiting room, Dean, Gabrielle’s husband and the father of Erik, held his composure as best he could. He did not pace or sweat, or awkwardly ramble about the pleasures of fatherhood like some of the other men in the room with him. He assumed that they were enlisted men, not officers like him, which explained their lack of cool. Rather than blather like a fool, he thumbed through a magazine and pretended to read about the Guatemalan Civil War, a topic that normally would have intrigued him greatly, being a military man who never actually wanted to be a member of the US military, but who had demonstrated a remarkable talent for understanding political science and foreign policy as a young man.
Indeed, when it came time for him to finish his post-graduate education he saw that he had no choice but to either enter Officer Training School, or wait to be drafted into the ranks of the dullards who were sent to the front lines to sweat in front of the enemy as heavily as these guys in the waiting room with him were doing. He had heard of the option to burn his draft card and flee the country, or join the Peace Corps, or become a “conscientious objector” of the Vietnam conflict but all of these options seemed, to him, about as enticing as getting shot in the knee and spending the next few years in a Viet Cong POW camp. So he became an officer of the US Air Force. After all, he had loved aircraft since he was a small child so why not?
When, finally, he was called into a room to view his child, he abruptly stamped out his cigarette and forcefully brushed past the other men in the waiting room. His crying baby was wrapped in a blue blanket so he knew that this was Erik, his son. As he held Erik he was overcome with a joy that he had not felt before but had heard would happen so he was prepared for it. One detail that he was not prepared for was the ache that began to form in his facial muscles. As it turns out, large grins sustained for several minutes caused this. Having been born and raised in Southern California, he had heard of the “perma-grin” that was suffered by users of marijuana and LSD. Standing there in a military hospital room, holding his newborn son, and grinning like an idiot, Dean felt that he understood why the burnouts smiled so much and, possibly, why they consumed drugs in the first place. They wanted this joy.
After a short time of being left in peace to hold his baby, a military doctor approached Dean and told him that he needed a word. Dean’s smile quickly faded and he steeled himself against whatever bad news the military was going to tell him this time. They never needed a word if they had good news. That kind of thing was sent by mail. The doctor told him that Erik was perfectly healthy and that he could go home with Dean but that there was a small problem with Gabrielle and that she would need to remain in the military hospital for several days at least, for observation. Dean did not ask what the problem was because he knew that it was uterine or cervical or some other female thing because Gabrielle had suffered at least two miscarriages before the birth of this boy that he now held in his arms. He knew that if she were in serious danger he would have been told outright because one thing the military did efficiently was dole out horrible news. They wanted to get that kind of thing over with asap, so Dean trusted that whatever was wrong with her was minor and could be dealt with between her and the doctors for now. After all, Gabrielle was an Army nurse so she certainly would know what to do with the information better than he could. So he focused on going to her and sharing the good news that Erik had been born and he was healthy.
As he approached Gabrielle’s bed she immediately perked up but he could see the final traces of the dark stare that she had been giving the ceiling. He knew that look, and he always did everything possible to make it stop, or at least avoid it. He placed Erik in her arms and Gabrielle glowed in a way that Dean had not seen before. He wondered if the joy that he felt just minutes ago could rival hers and he doubted it. He sat down next to her and glowed with her for maybe hours, he didn’t notice how much time had passed before a nurse entered the room and told them that they needed to run some tests on Gabrielle soon. Upon hearing this, both Dean's and Gabrielle’s glows faded quickly. He had not yet told her that she would need to stay and that Erik was going home with him. He did not know for how long. Gabrielle cried. Dean assured her that it was nothing serious and that he would bring Erik back to her early the next day. Through her tears, Gabrielle nodded and handed Erik back to Dean. He kissed her forehead, told her he loved her and tried to turn and leave before he caught a glimpse of the dark look that he knew would quickly overpower all of her facial features. He didn’t turn quickly enough though. She caught him and gave him a small dose of her cold, angry darkness before he was able to avert his eyes.