A Promise Kept - Segment #4

The men shuffled onto the plane, some quicker than others, depending on their injuries. With his stiff leg, Jack boarded last, with Annabelle at his side helping him up the stairs, one slow step at a time. The group settled into their seats, excitement and hope plastered across their faces. Annabelle checked on each soldier before she settled herself next to Jack, the most wounded man on board. Happy as all the soldiers were boarding the flight, after the novelty of going stateside wore off, the flight back took its toll on the passengers. The seats were uncomfortable, the air stuffy and the constant loud din of the engines humming over thousands of miles annoyed even the most patient of men. Take offs, landings and turbulence caused injuries to ache anew.

Hours into the flight a powerful spate of turbulence rocked the plane like a jerky roller coaster ride, slamming them around the cabin. Jack winced and grabbed his shoulder. Annabelle removed his hand to see blood seeping through his shirt. She jumped out of her seat, turned to face him and unbuttoned his shirt. Sure enough, a major leak had spurted between stitches broken when the turbulence caused him to smash against a railing at the seat’s edge.  

 

“Is it bad?” he asked, trying to look at his shoulder.

 

“Bad enough,” she answered. “I need to stop the bleeding before it gets worse.” She didn’t tell him that if she didn’t stop the bleeding that he could bleed out and die before they landed at the next airport. Right now he didn’t need to hear that. “Here,” she took his hand. “Press it against the wound. Don’t want you bleeding all over the plane and making a mess,” she joked. Jack didn’t smile.

 

She reached under her seat for her medical bag, took out supplies and began prepping. As soon as she had everything ready she removed Jack’s shirt. “You need to stay very still,” she instructed him. “I’ll give you a little topical medicine to dull the pain of the needle. Even so, you’re going to feel it. I can’t numb it more than that.”

 

Jack nodded. “I’ve been through the drill. Go ahead.” He closed his eyes and laid his head back.

 

Annabelle cleaned the blood and applied gauze to stanch the flow. She held it tight for several minutes. “Jack, can you press the dressing tight while I thread the needle? And start praying.”

 

Jack’s eyes abruptly opened. “Praying?”

 

“That we don’t experience any more turbulence while I knit you back together. If we hit another bad patch I might accidentally pierce your artery.”

 

“I’m guessing from your tone that would not be good?”

 

“Smart man you are, Jack Marino. Now stay very still so I can close you up as quickly as possible.”

 

Jack closed his eyes again, reached up and pressed his fingers against the gauze.  As soon as she threaded the needle she removed the gauze, cleaned the wound with alcohol, applied the topical pain killer, and began suturing the open wound back together again. Each time she punctured his skin he winced, and his jaw tightened. A few minutes later she finished, applied ointment and redressed the wound with gauze. She stood up and it was then that she saw all the men around them watching her, watching Jack. They applauded and whistled to Annabelle’s embarrassment. She shook her head and waved off the cheers. Annabelle reached down and picked up Jack’s shirt.

 

“I wish you had another shirt” Annabelle said.  “I hate for you to go home with these blood stains. Oh well, can’t be helped. You need to wear something so let’s get it back on you.” With unhurried and cautious movements Annabelle redressed him, covered him in a light jacket, and then sat back down in her seat. “Are you alright?”

 

“Just peachy,” he smiled. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

 

Annabelle cocked her head back in surprise. “How so?”

 

Jack closed his eyes again. “I have the best nurse in the entire U.S. Armed Forces sitting right here, taking personal care of me. Yep, I’m pretty darn lucky.” He reached over and laid a hand over Annabelle’s, where he left it until they landed at the next airport and Annabelle got up to help several men disembark.

 

 As the plane taxied down the runway at North Island Naval Air Station on Coronado Island, across the bay from San Diego, Annabelle and Jack stretched their necks to look out the window. They looked at one another, grins plastered across their faces, giddy with excitement. As soon as the plane stopped Annabelle helped Jack disembark down the stairs to a waiting wheelchair. She followed behind and joined him in the ambulance. When they arrived at Balboa Hospital they found his parents, sister and brother dressed up in their Sunday best, waiting for him in the lobby. They swarmed the wheelchair hugging and kissing him. His mother, Doris, began to cry.

 

“Don’t cry, Ma,” Jack said. “I’m going to be okay, thanks to this wonderful nurse.” He reached out his hand toward Annabelle, standing back a ways. “Come here, Annabelle. I want you to meet my family.” Everyone turned around, with expectant faces.

 

His father stepped toward Annabelle. “Are you the one that took care of my son over there?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Annabelle answered.

 

“With that bad shoulder of his, it must have been you that wrote the letters we got from him. We noticed they weren’t in his handwriting.”

 

“Right again, sir. It was my pleasure to help.”

 

“Well, I’d say you did more than help. We were warned that he would be in pretty bad shape, but overall, he looks pretty good.”

 

“That’s because Annabelle is a whiz of a nurse, Dad,” Jack interjected. “She never left my side. I’m alive because of her.”

 

“Is that true?” Jack’s mother turned to Annabelle, wiping away her tears.

 

Annabelle shook her head. “No. There were other nurses in our medical tent, but to hear him tell the story you would think I was staffing it alone. All that matters now is that he is recovering well. I do hope he can go home soon. Mrs. Marino, he hasn’t stopped talking about your home cooking.”

 

“Well, I’m ready to cook for him,” Mrs. Marino said. “My famous meatballs and spaghetti should fatten him up a bit. He’s awfully skinny.”  

 

“The military is not well known for its fine cuisine,” Annabelle joked.

Just then a tall woman in a nurse’s uniform joined the group. “Annabelle, is that you?”

 

“Mae!” Annabelle stepped to the side of the nurse. “So good to see you.”

 

“More like it’s so good to see you!” the tall nurse responded. “We got your letters from time to time and couldn’t believe the kind of conditions you were working in over there. Must have been tough.”

 

Annabelle grinned, a flicker of pride in her eyes. “It was, but we made do.”

 

“She saved my life,” Jack interceded. “She won’t admit it, but she did.”

 

“She’s a good nurse, one of the best that ever trained here,” Mae said. “I’m sure that she did save your life. Now it’s our job to continue her good work and get you healthy enough to move back with your family.” Mae turned to Mr. and Mrs. Marino. “Do you live nearby?”

 

“Not far,” Doris answered. “Just over in Little Italy. It’s near Sal’s work.”

 

“And what would that be?” Mae asked.

 

“I have a tuna boat in the harbor,” Sal answered. “Jack used to fish with me before the war. Can’t wait for him to get well and join me back on the boat. It’s been hard without him.”

 

Annabelle stepped forward. “I’m afraid that won’t be for a while, Mr. Marino. Your son suffered severe injuries to his shoulder, chest and leg, he nearly lost his life. I doubt he will be strong enough to work on a boat for months, perhaps even a year.”

 

The joy drained from Sal’s face. “That long?”

 

“Yes,” Annabelle responded. “Perhaps there’s something else he will be able to do, something that won’t involve physical strength or taxing his muscles while they heal. Such as bookkeeping?”

 

The family chuckled. “My dear, Jack has never been known for his arithmetic skills,” Doris said when the laughter died down. Jack sat in his wheelchair, a sheepish expression crossing his face.  

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find something for him,” Annabelle said, trying to be helpful. She turned back to Mae. “If you’re ready to take him upstairs, here are his medical records." She reached into a case and produced several large files that she handed to Mae. "We had some nasty turbulence on the flight and he split a few stitches. I sewed him back up and so far it’s holding. You should check it. Can you can take it from here? I’d like to go to the farm and see my family.”

 

“Farm?” Jack looked up.

 

“Yes, Jack, my family has a dairy farm in Mission Valley. I can’t wait to see them and my cow, Dorothy. Did I tell you that I raised her from a calf? Oh, she makes the sweetest milk. I’ll bring you some when I visit.”

 

“What do you mean when you visit?” Jack asked, wrinkles creasing his brow. “Aren’t you going to nurse me here?”

 

Mae leaned over. “Annabelle has more than done her job and now it’s our turn to take care of you, Mr. Marino. Don’t worry; we’ll continue what Annabelle started. Don’t you agree that she deserves a well-earned rest? I’m sure she will come visit.”

 

Jack looked up at Annabelle, his eyes wide with anticipation, and eagerness. “Will you?”

 

Annabelle cracked a small smile. “You know I will.” She looked at the others. “It was nice to meet all of you. Thanks, Mae. I’ll call later today to see how he is doing.”

 

“You do that, honey. Now you go home and see that family of yours,” Mae answered.  “Oh, by the way, someone is waiting for you at the other end of the lobby.”

 

Annabelle’s face lit up. She turned and walked at a quick pace across the lobby in search of her visitor. Jack watched her leave even as Mae pushed his wheelchair toward the elevator. He observed her skittle down the lobby into the arms of a man at the far end. Until Mae pushed his wheelchair into the elevator he never took his sad eyes off of Annabelle and the man with his arm around her shoulder walking her out the front door.