Huh?

Kate was right. It will never end if I don’t find the courage to talk to him. I have to know what I can do to make it up. I joined his foxhole more determined, but as soon as he turned away from me, I faltered again.

I could barely sleep the following hours. As soon as I heard him stir, stretching himself, I turned to him, looked at him and blurted it out:

”I don’t know how to make it up to you, please tell me what I can do to make it right. Anything you ask. I can’t bear it anymore.”

“Huh?” He simply reacted.

What’s that supposed to mean? Fuck, can’t the guy say anything more? Still giving me the silent treatment. Please, I am dying up here.

“Huh? Is that all you have to say?” I asked, desperately.

“What are you talking about? Why do you say you want to make it up to me? I was the one murdering Kemal right in front of you. Getting his blood upon your face. Traumatizing you. Making you an accomplice by lying about it.” He asked in pain and anger.

Wait, what? He thinks he’s the one at fault? But I am the useless one here, you saved me!

“What are you talking about? Kemal was about to **** me and I didn’t do anything to stop him. I froze. You saved me from him. You saved me from that. What if you hadn’t done that? He would have done it over and over again. In exchange for not letting me die out here.” I told him. Quite loud.

“I could have warned him. Reported him to the officers.” He spoke softly, slumping down.

And lose you doing so... just like we discussed at the camp.

“And what’s to say they would have punished him? They need every soldier. He would still be around, doing it perhaps to others, or killing you as reprisal. You have warned him, twice. We all heard him talking on the bus. I barely listened to my music when I sat next to you. You tried to shut him up. And afterwards you gave a small speech about respect. We all knew you addressed Kemal by it. And instead of taking the advice, he selfishly turned your words around and threatened me with your words. He wouldn’t have stopped.” I replied, louder again.

“I still traumatized you. All that blood on your face... Killing him in front of you.” He said, in an extremely guilty voice.

Oh, no, he feels guilty about hurting me! All that time, he just felt guilty. Very, very guilty. Completely unjustified. I have to change his mind, his guilt is hurting him. I have to make it right for him. What kind of man is this, that he feels guilty for hurting me, instead of being angry at me? For being angry for hurting me, instead being angry of me hurting him? Fuck, he is getting under my skin. More than ever. Never thought a man could still get so much under my skin. Easy now... Calm down your heart... I still have to make this right...

“You didn’t. I was frozen up. As for killing him that way, probably the best way you could have done it. If you had confronted him, he could have killed you in a fight. I wouldn’t have done anything to prevent it. I couldn’t bring myself to move, to scream, you had to slap me in the face to wake me up. And afterwards you took it up yourself to bury the body. While the others broke up the camp I went back, the body was gone.”

Yes, I did go back. More like to punish myself, to make me remember I was useless. To notice it was indeed gone. Everything covered up. Like nothing happened. Someone else cleaning up my mess, just like my sister did, and she paid the price for it. I loved her so much, and she paid for it. She couldn’t bear it either. No, I don’t want this to happen again. And I don’t want to think about her. I am her now. I am Kylie now. What would Kylie do?

“Yes, I did, and in the process I made you an accomplice. I **** you to stay silent after I told the officer he deserted.” He said after some time.

Wait, what? **** me to stay silent? No, he didn’t. He didn’t at all.

“You didn’t **** me to stay silent. The whole platoon knows you killed him.”

“Wait, what?” He asked surprised.

He doesn’t remember what his last order was? To clean myself up? One of the most consequential orders I have ever heard, and he doesn’t even realize it?

“Don’t you remember? You told me to clean up my face. I stumbled into the camp, desperately looking for water and a cloth. The others woke up and saw me. I had to explain what happened. We barely slept that night, talking the rest of the night about it, and leaving it up to you to align our stories. We agreed to follow your example. So you told the officer he deserted, lied about killing him, we all agreed it was the best way to deal with it.” I explained him, a bit more calmly now.

“But I thought you hated me?”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” I exclaimed. I had no time to think, as he started to explain quickly now:

“After I came back to the camp, you looked at me so afraid of me, so pained, as if I was a dangerous psychopath. Never talked to me, just looked to me, at all times, as if you were angry with me. Watching me, sitting close by. I thought you were trying to **** me to feel guilty, to spill the beans.”

Fuck. He misinterpreted the way I looked at him. Perhaps we both did?

“Huh, that was not my intention. I looked angry, because I was and still am angry with myself not being able to defend myself. Needing you to defend me. I thought I was stronger, but it seems not. I kept looking at you, because I was worried. Knowing your first kill would affect you. Knowing I **** you to kill your own platoon member. I watched you coming back to the camp, clearly having cried, then trying to sleep, I saw you were having trouble, I knew you were having nightmares. I felt your pain, and added mine because I feel guilty being the cause of that.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I couldn’t! You were ignoring me completely in every way. In the camp you turned your back to me. In the bus you left me to sit on your own. In the training you separated me to go with Kate. And just now, in this hole you turned your back to me some more. You didn’t talk to me, you didn’t want to look at me. You were angry with me. I fully understood, me talking to you was the last thing you wanted.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I just couldn’t look at you, feeling guilty every time you gazed back upon me. I tried to leave you alone. You were traumatized enough. And I was certainly not angry with you. I was angry for what I had done to you.”

So we both did indeed. Just misinterpreted each other, by not speaking to each other. Fuck, if only I had started talking to him sooner. I could have fixed it a lot earlier. But no, I didn’t and I had let his guilt and anger for hurting me fester.

A small pause followed. Each was thinking over the heated exchange we just had. We both started to talk again. He let me to be the first.

“So you are not angry with me?”

“No.” He said.

“You should be. I was weak. I **** your hand.” I said guiltily.

“You didn’t, you aren’t. You should be with me. I know I am guilty.”

I should be with you? No... Eh, well, yes... Perhaps I should be with you. Oh no, don’t say that, he might take it the wrong way.

“You aren’t, there was no other way.”

No other way for him to save me. But perhaps there is another way to save him? Just be with him. Would it be that simple? Would he let me? Would he want me? Oh, god, could I have him? Easy now... Don’t hope too much...

“Tell Kemal that.” He replied, again guiltily.

Don’t feel pity for the fucker, too, for fuck sake! Way too much empathy in you...

“Fuck Kemal.”

“You sure I didn’t hurt you?” He asked me, still in doubt.

“Yes, I am sure, on the contrary, you saved me. I have seen you being hurt, I can’t stand it anymore to not being able to help. So I ask you again. How can I? Please, anything I can do to help.”

Yes, anything... A normal man would certainly get the hint now. And ask me for something I can certainly do. And if he asks, I would do it gladly, because I would know he wants me. No. I used to know. With him, I can’t know for sure. He cares for me, he finds me attractive, that I know. But does he want me?

“I can’t stop feeling guilty, it will take time to see things more in your point of view. I am sorry I made it difficult for you to finally speak up to me. But I am very grateful you doing so. I had no idea the whole platoon knew of it. I thought I fucked up my chances being a decent platoon leader.”

We never can stop feeling something just because someone tells us so, no can we. Not so simple after all. But wait, he is thanking me now? Me? Just for talking to him? I am getting so confused here.

“You are a great leader. We didn’t think it at first, ordering us around. But after... Kemal, we started to respect you very much. We know you’ll do anything to try to protect us.”

“Now what?”

Yes, now what? I need to thank him, instead of the other way around. I want to do something useful. Something I am good at. Oh, he can’t know that. Shouldn’t know that. Damn, why didn’t he take the hint the first time? Certainly not a normal man. And I like him for it. A lot. Try again?

“Well, what do you want? I told you I want to make it up to you.”

“Huh... I don’t see the need of you thanking me. I reacted out of anger. I never thought about the consequences. I just did.”

Fuck, still no response to it. Does he simply refuse to be thanked? Is he always thinking about others first, damn the consequences? And what about my feelings of guilt, how am I going to solve that, all by myself? Oh, wait, I have an idea...

“Well, I want to thank you. It lessens my feeling of guilt too. Even if you say I shouldn’t feel guilty, I just can’t stop.”

“I can’t think of anything suitable to thank me.”

At that moment, Kate’s words flashed through my mind. Kate who is so confused. Leering at her. Because he is lonely. Fantasizing, but never wanting to act on it. I should be with him, I want it. He needs it, but doesn’t want to ask, afraid of hurting someone. Well, time then for me to step up. To jolt him out of that miserable life.

“Well, I can. I talked to Kate to fill me in about your personal life before.”

“Uh-oh...”

Oh, he looks so scared so suddenly. So guilty. No, don’t stop. Go for it. I don’t care about it. I’ll show him. He won’t refuse me. Who knew? It is simple after all.

“Yes, uh-oh,...” But I grinned at him and reached out with my hand to the zipper of his sleeping bag.