Chapter 10
“Justin McLeod?” The soldier’s voice was hesitant, as though uncertain if he had knocked on the correct door. Justin glanced up from where he sat at the table with the children, watching his son as James tried to teach Brigitte to read using one of the many poster notices that were tacked up around the encampment. Alyse glanced over at him, her dark eyes concerned.
“I’m Justin McLeod,” he responded, retuning his spoon to the bowl of oatmeal and rising from the chair.
The soldier, a stick-thin boy barely able to grow the thin mustache that he sported on his lip, held out a sheet of paper. “You’ve been given a day pass to take a look at your residence, sir. It’s been deemed inhabitable, but policy requires you inspect the premises yourself before you resume possession.”
James’ face broke into a smile and he leapt to his feet. “Can I come, Dad?”
Justin was about to reply, but the soldier interrupted. “I’m sorry, sir, but the pass is limited to one individual. Your family has to remain here until you return and the paperwork is completed.”
Justin smile thinly. “Thank you, corporal. I understand. When is the pass valid?”
“It’s a twenty-four hour pass, sir, but it’s recommended that you return before curfew. The gates are locked after that, and there’s no guarantee you’ll be admitted until morning.”
Nodding, Justin turned to Alyse. “I’ll be back before dark,” he promised. Looking down at the disappointed face of his son, he smiled. “Buck up, Jim. Once I inspect the house, we can move home again.”
“We can leave the camp?” Brigitte chirped, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Soon, Brigitte,” Alyse cooed. “Hopefully very soon.”
Grabbing his jacket, he turned to the corporal. “Is there transportation into the city?”
The corporal shook his head. “No sir.”
Chuckling without mirth, Justin pulled on his boots and began tying the laces tightly. “That’s a twenty kilometer walk,” he growled.
“Sir,” the corporal replied carefully.
“It’s okay, Justin,” Alyse whispered. “If you can’t make it back tonight, don’t worry about it.”
He shook his head. “I hate leaving you like this, but it’s only for a little while. I’ll check the place out. If it gets too late, I’ll be back before noon tomorrow.”
Crouching down, he hugged James. “Take care of the girls,” he murmured.
James grinned. “I always do,” he replied.
*
Planes, usually fighters, screamed across the sky as they took off from the few remaining runways at the airport. One or two massive transport planes roared as they descended, shaking the ground with the power of their engines. He’d become accustomed to seeing the planes arrive and depart during his time in the detention compound, but the road into the city led right past the airport, and the noise was almost overpowering that close. After a while, however, he stopped looking up, too unnerved by the city itself.
The sight of the city left him shocked. Most of the outlying suburbs had obviously burned to the ground during the initial attacks, the skeletal, charred remains of homes stretching almost from horizon to horizon. From what he’d heard from the one or two survivors who inhabited the detention center, the fires had been unstoppable in many areas, and the fire department had been completely overwhelmed within hours of the initial strikes. Ultimately, the fires had been left to burn themselves out, taking entire neighborhoods with them.
The bombing had hit the downtown the hardest. The familiar sight of the downtown skyscrapers was conspicuously absent, with nothing more than jagged remnants stabbing up at the sky. Armored personnel carriers rolled along the streets in tight convoys, and soldiers lurked on nearly every corner. They eyed him as he walked, and he clutched the pass in his hand, the proof that he had permission to be walking through the devastated city.
By the time he reached his old neighborhood, he was on the verge of despair. It had taken the better part of three hours to walk the distance, and the path had been grueling both physically and emotionally. Buildings he had known his entire life were nothing more than crumbled ruins. Churches, department stores, massive sprawling malls… all of them had been crushed beneath the relentless assault. It left him feeling insignificant and drained. The sight of intact buildings, however, lifted his sagging spirits.
Not every district within the city had been ravaged, he realized as he walked around the slope of Nose Hill and looked down into some of the older neighborhoods of the northwest part of the city. While several burned-out husks cast their shadow on the scene, most of the buildings at the base of the hill were in good condition. The majority of the damage here was centered around the major thoroughfares, with shattered storefronts indicating the damage had been caused by ground forces rather than by bombing. Much of that disappeared as he moved further into the residential areas.
By the time he reached the street his house was on, virtually all traces of the conflict had vanished. A few windows were boarded up, and one or two of the homes were in worse repair than Justin remembered them, but the streets were clear of the debris he had seen in other parts of the city. The only major casualty appeared to be the strip mall on the end of the block, which had been leveled, leaving a vast crater where the small Chinese restaurant had once been. The Canadian Tire he had visited, what seemed so long before, still stood a few blocks away, though Justin felt no urge to see if it had been damaged.
His house looked much the same as it always had: the sloping driveway, the green vinyl siding, the three large windows looking into the living room. He felt a sense of homecoming he hadn’t expected to feel as he walked up the cracked stone steps and tried the handle of the front door.
He’d expected it to be locked, but the door swung open and he was almost overwhelmed by the familiar scent of home.
Stepping into the entryway, he stared into the spacious living room. Several items were missing, he noticed at once: the large screen television that always sat in the corner; a painting of a tiger that had always sat on the mantle over the fireplace; the coffee table his father had given to him as a wedding present… Still, the house was in better condition than he’d dared to hope. There even lingered in the air a faint trace of the perfume that Lisa had loved so much. He breathed it in and felt the tension in his neck and shoulders he hadn’t realized was there vanish.
A silly little smile danced across his lips, and he unlaced his boots. The kitchen was almost exactly as he’d left it, though again several items appeared to be missing. The faint smile faded and a puzzled expression crossed his face as he noticed that none of the things that he would expect to be missing from house in a war-ravaged city were gone. A couple of cans sat on the kitchen counter, and when he glanced into the dishwasher, several plates were stacked there. They were clean. Puzzled, he strolled into the hallway and froze when he heard a noise down the hall.
Someone was here.
Moving slowly, he crept down the carpeted hallway until he reached the master bedroom. The door creaked softly as he opened it.
There, stark naked in the middle of the bed, knelt Lisa. She stared at him, her eyes wide, and then screamed, “Wait!”
Justin heard the creak of a board beside him, only then noticing the man standing in his underwear beside the closet, the baseball bat Justin kept in the closet clutched in one hand. “Who is this guy, Lis?” the man demanded.
“It’s my…” Lisa began, but Justin cut her off.
“This is my house,” he replied softly. “Get out.”
“It’s mine, too!” Lisa snapped, rising from where she had been kneeling and striding toward Justin.
“Actually,” Justin murmured, “it isn’t. As you’ll recall, it’s my name on the title. Not yours. Get out.”
“Lisa?” the man demanded. “Who is this?”
Lisa turned to face the man, completely unconcerned about her nudity. “He’s my husband. I left him.” She turned to stare at Justin again. “Where’s James?”
“Why?” Justin whispered. “You left him, too… or had you forgotten?” He felt an indescribable rage building up inside him.
“Look,” the man beside him mumbled, but Justin glared at him in stony silence.
“Justin…” Lisa began.
“Shut it, Lisa. You don’t get to do this. You left us. As far as James is concerned, you’re dead. You’ll stay that way.”
“I thought you were dead,” she whispered.
Justin laughed harshly. “Bullshit. You knew better. You left, Lisa. You don’t get to come back. You don’t get to turn his life upside down again.”
Lisa glanced down at the floor. “I just want…”
“I don’t care what you want,” Justin growled. “I care what James wants, and he wants to come home. So, if you love him, you will gather up your clothes and whatever is left of your dignity, and you will walk out of this house and never show your face again.” His voice had risen steadily until he realized he was shouting. With a force of will, he calmed himself. “You gambled and lost, Lisa. Now get out, and take your little friend with you.”
The man beside him grumbled something, and Justin glanced at him. “Look, I don’t know you, and I don’t care that you’re fucking my wife. But this is my house, not hers. Now get your clothes on, and get out.”
The man glanced over at Lisa, but her expression was utterly defeated. “Get dressed, Ian. He’s right. I…” she glanced up at Justin, tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Justin. Can you tell James that? Not right now, but some day?”
Justin closed his eyes. “Just get out,” he hissed.
The man gathered his clothes from the floor beside the bed. Justin was only mildly surprised to see that they were US Army fatigues. The man sneered at Justin as he brushed past, leaving Lisa collecting her own clothing. Justin turned to give her some privacy to dress, but she reached out and touched his arm. “Is he okay?”
Justin closed his eyes again, fighting back tears of his own. “He’s doing fine,” he whispered. “He’s grown up a lot. He’s had to.”
Lisa nodded, then brushed her lips against Justin’s cheek. “Good-bye, Justin. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before I left.”
“Just go,” Justin choked out, looking away.
He didn’t look back as his wife hurried, still naked, down the hallway.
Moving slowly, Justin walked into the bedroom and sat down heavily on the corner of the bed. Putting his face in his hands, he cried softly in the silence of the room.
“I’m Justin McLeod,” he responded, retuning his spoon to the bowl of oatmeal and rising from the chair.
The soldier, a stick-thin boy barely able to grow the thin mustache that he sported on his lip, held out a sheet of paper. “You’ve been given a day pass to take a look at your residence, sir. It’s been deemed inhabitable, but policy requires you inspect the premises yourself before you resume possession.”
James’ face broke into a smile and he leapt to his feet. “Can I come, Dad?”
Justin was about to reply, but the soldier interrupted. “I’m sorry, sir, but the pass is limited to one individual. Your family has to remain here until you return and the paperwork is completed.”
Justin smile thinly. “Thank you, corporal. I understand. When is the pass valid?”
“It’s a twenty-four hour pass, sir, but it’s recommended that you return before curfew. The gates are locked after that, and there’s no guarantee you’ll be admitted until morning.”
Nodding, Justin turned to Alyse. “I’ll be back before dark,” he promised. Looking down at the disappointed face of his son, he smiled. “Buck up, Jim. Once I inspect the house, we can move home again.”
“We can leave the camp?” Brigitte chirped, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Soon, Brigitte,” Alyse cooed. “Hopefully very soon.”
Grabbing his jacket, he turned to the corporal. “Is there transportation into the city?”
The corporal shook his head. “No sir.”
Chuckling without mirth, Justin pulled on his boots and began tying the laces tightly. “That’s a twenty kilometer walk,” he growled.
“Sir,” the corporal replied carefully.
“It’s okay, Justin,” Alyse whispered. “If you can’t make it back tonight, don’t worry about it.”
He shook his head. “I hate leaving you like this, but it’s only for a little while. I’ll check the place out. If it gets too late, I’ll be back before noon tomorrow.”
Crouching down, he hugged James. “Take care of the girls,” he murmured.
James grinned. “I always do,” he replied.
*
Planes, usually fighters, screamed across the sky as they took off from the few remaining runways at the airport. One or two massive transport planes roared as they descended, shaking the ground with the power of their engines. He’d become accustomed to seeing the planes arrive and depart during his time in the detention compound, but the road into the city led right past the airport, and the noise was almost overpowering that close. After a while, however, he stopped looking up, too unnerved by the city itself.
The sight of the city left him shocked. Most of the outlying suburbs had obviously burned to the ground during the initial attacks, the skeletal, charred remains of homes stretching almost from horizon to horizon. From what he’d heard from the one or two survivors who inhabited the detention center, the fires had been unstoppable in many areas, and the fire department had been completely overwhelmed within hours of the initial strikes. Ultimately, the fires had been left to burn themselves out, taking entire neighborhoods with them.
The bombing had hit the downtown the hardest. The familiar sight of the downtown skyscrapers was conspicuously absent, with nothing more than jagged remnants stabbing up at the sky. Armored personnel carriers rolled along the streets in tight convoys, and soldiers lurked on nearly every corner. They eyed him as he walked, and he clutched the pass in his hand, the proof that he had permission to be walking through the devastated city.
By the time he reached his old neighborhood, he was on the verge of despair. It had taken the better part of three hours to walk the distance, and the path had been grueling both physically and emotionally. Buildings he had known his entire life were nothing more than crumbled ruins. Churches, department stores, massive sprawling malls… all of them had been crushed beneath the relentless assault. It left him feeling insignificant and drained. The sight of intact buildings, however, lifted his sagging spirits.
Not every district within the city had been ravaged, he realized as he walked around the slope of Nose Hill and looked down into some of the older neighborhoods of the northwest part of the city. While several burned-out husks cast their shadow on the scene, most of the buildings at the base of the hill were in good condition. The majority of the damage here was centered around the major thoroughfares, with shattered storefronts indicating the damage had been caused by ground forces rather than by bombing. Much of that disappeared as he moved further into the residential areas.
By the time he reached the street his house was on, virtually all traces of the conflict had vanished. A few windows were boarded up, and one or two of the homes were in worse repair than Justin remembered them, but the streets were clear of the debris he had seen in other parts of the city. The only major casualty appeared to be the strip mall on the end of the block, which had been leveled, leaving a vast crater where the small Chinese restaurant had once been. The Canadian Tire he had visited, what seemed so long before, still stood a few blocks away, though Justin felt no urge to see if it had been damaged.
His house looked much the same as it always had: the sloping driveway, the green vinyl siding, the three large windows looking into the living room. He felt a sense of homecoming he hadn’t expected to feel as he walked up the cracked stone steps and tried the handle of the front door.
He’d expected it to be locked, but the door swung open and he was almost overwhelmed by the familiar scent of home.
Stepping into the entryway, he stared into the spacious living room. Several items were missing, he noticed at once: the large screen television that always sat in the corner; a painting of a tiger that had always sat on the mantle over the fireplace; the coffee table his father had given to him as a wedding present… Still, the house was in better condition than he’d dared to hope. There even lingered in the air a faint trace of the perfume that Lisa had loved so much. He breathed it in and felt the tension in his neck and shoulders he hadn’t realized was there vanish.
A silly little smile danced across his lips, and he unlaced his boots. The kitchen was almost exactly as he’d left it, though again several items appeared to be missing. The faint smile faded and a puzzled expression crossed his face as he noticed that none of the things that he would expect to be missing from house in a war-ravaged city were gone. A couple of cans sat on the kitchen counter, and when he glanced into the dishwasher, several plates were stacked there. They were clean. Puzzled, he strolled into the hallway and froze when he heard a noise down the hall.
Someone was here.
Moving slowly, he crept down the carpeted hallway until he reached the master bedroom. The door creaked softly as he opened it.
There, stark naked in the middle of the bed, knelt Lisa. She stared at him, her eyes wide, and then screamed, “Wait!”
Justin heard the creak of a board beside him, only then noticing the man standing in his underwear beside the closet, the baseball bat Justin kept in the closet clutched in one hand. “Who is this guy, Lis?” the man demanded.
“It’s my…” Lisa began, but Justin cut her off.
“This is my house,” he replied softly. “Get out.”
“It’s mine, too!” Lisa snapped, rising from where she had been kneeling and striding toward Justin.
“Actually,” Justin murmured, “it isn’t. As you’ll recall, it’s my name on the title. Not yours. Get out.”
“Lisa?” the man demanded. “Who is this?”
Lisa turned to face the man, completely unconcerned about her nudity. “He’s my husband. I left him.” She turned to stare at Justin again. “Where’s James?”
“Why?” Justin whispered. “You left him, too… or had you forgotten?” He felt an indescribable rage building up inside him.
“Look,” the man beside him mumbled, but Justin glared at him in stony silence.
“Justin…” Lisa began.
“Shut it, Lisa. You don’t get to do this. You left us. As far as James is concerned, you’re dead. You’ll stay that way.”
“I thought you were dead,” she whispered.
Justin laughed harshly. “Bullshit. You knew better. You left, Lisa. You don’t get to come back. You don’t get to turn his life upside down again.”
Lisa glanced down at the floor. “I just want…”
“I don’t care what you want,” Justin growled. “I care what James wants, and he wants to come home. So, if you love him, you will gather up your clothes and whatever is left of your dignity, and you will walk out of this house and never show your face again.” His voice had risen steadily until he realized he was shouting. With a force of will, he calmed himself. “You gambled and lost, Lisa. Now get out, and take your little friend with you.”
The man beside him grumbled something, and Justin glanced at him. “Look, I don’t know you, and I don’t care that you’re fucking my wife. But this is my house, not hers. Now get your clothes on, and get out.”
The man glanced over at Lisa, but her expression was utterly defeated. “Get dressed, Ian. He’s right. I…” she glanced up at Justin, tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Justin. Can you tell James that? Not right now, but some day?”
Justin closed his eyes. “Just get out,” he hissed.
The man gathered his clothes from the floor beside the bed. Justin was only mildly surprised to see that they were US Army fatigues. The man sneered at Justin as he brushed past, leaving Lisa collecting her own clothing. Justin turned to give her some privacy to dress, but she reached out and touched his arm. “Is he okay?”
Justin closed his eyes again, fighting back tears of his own. “He’s doing fine,” he whispered. “He’s grown up a lot. He’s had to.”
Lisa nodded, then brushed her lips against Justin’s cheek. “Good-bye, Justin. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before I left.”
“Just go,” Justin choked out, looking away.
He didn’t look back as his wife hurried, still naked, down the hallway.
Moving slowly, Justin walked into the bedroom and sat down heavily on the corner of the bed. Putting his face in his hands, he cried softly in the silence of the room.