Hamburger for One

HAMBURGER

FOR

ONE

RON UNDERWOOD

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

Hamburger for One

Copyright © 2010 by Ron Underwood

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4502-8142-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-8143-0 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 12/28/2010

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 1

The bright Florida sunshine soaked the beach as far as the eye could see, and each ray of sun seemed to bathe and gently caress the sand. Scores of carefree tourists jumped and played, relishing the fact that they were able to at least temporarily escape the cold, the snow, and their real lives. Millions of shells raced in and out with each wave as it arrived on the shore and then quickly retreated, making way for the next wave that would surely follow. Evan stretched his toe into the water and captured several small shells, not allowing them back into the Gulf. He realized how easily a life can be forever altered by outside forces; and despite the beautiful, relaxing setting, the emotions again overwhelmed him, and he remembered what had brought him here.

He stood ankle deep in the cool gulf water and then looked down the beach in both directions, realizing that one path was equally as good as the other, and he began to trudge along. He mused at the pelicans circling the water in their constant search for food, followed closely by ever-growing numbers of seagulls, apparently too lazy to search on their own and quite willing to let the pelicans do the hard work for them.

Another fifty yards down the beach, Evan was hit in the shin by a stray Frisbee. He could easily have seen it coming his way if he had been paying attention, but he was lost in his thoughts and was startled when it hit his leg. The child closest to him ran a couple steps in his direction and then stopped suddenly. Sorry about that, he stated sheepishly.

Evan smiled and hurled their toy back to them. No problem. He walked on, and he wished that controlling a harmless beach toy was all he had to think about. He veered onto a wooden pier and made his way to the farthest point, where he sat with his legs hanging over the edge. He could feel the sun on his shoulders, and he knew he would suffer the next day when the sunburn fully set in. For the moment, however, the heat felt very good, and Evan dipped his feet into the cool water beneath him. No answers were coming. He had tried, or at least he believed he had tried, but he had become far too familiar with the constant knot in his stomach. He knew that knot was the result of his dreams and plans being suddenly pulled out from under him without any real explanation.

Should he have been more prepared? Were there signs that he either missed or ignored? He kicked his legs harder in the water as if the churning and splashing would relieve some of his frustration. He wanted very much to scream as loudly as he could, but he knew he wouldn’t do that. He was always too much in control of his emotions to ever just let go like that, especially in public, so he just sat staring blankly out at the endless water. His legs stopped kicking, and everything was again calm at the end of the pier, everything except the thousands of confusing thoughts that would not stop swirling around Evan’s mind. He mumbled quietly to himself. Isn’t absence supposed to make the heart grow fonder, and aren’t marriages supposed to last until death do you part?

After a few more minutes, he made his way off the pier and back down the beach. The laughter of happy families drowned out the sounds of the jet flying overhead. He looked up, squinting from the bright sunshine, and as he stood and watched the plane vanish into the distant clouds, his cluttered mind wandered back three years to another plane he had longingly watched disappear into the sky.

The emotions of that earlier day were strong and long lasting for Evan. He had had no real way to prepare himself to deal with them; yet he knew the feelings, emotions, and memories of that day would never leave him. The awe-inspiring sight of nearly two hundred spouses, children, parents, and friends hugging, weeping, and cheering had overwhelmed Evan in ways he had never anticipated they would.

The uniforms and formations had been impressive, and those in uniform did their best to convey pride and enthusiasm in hopes of reassuring those family members staying behind. Most of the farewells had been taken care of before that day, so a lot of the visiting had been nervous small talk and light-hearted jokes about what to expect in the months ahead. The truth was that no one knew what lay ahead, either for those leaving or for those staying. Very few people there had ever before watched a spouse or a child go to war, and it was certainly not something Evan had ever imaged going through; but Rachel, his wife, was standing in the formation with the rest of her fellow soldiers, preparing to leave for a year of service in the Iraq war.

Evan reached the end of the beach, and the aromas from the sidewalk cafes began to get the best of him. It suddenly occurred to him that it was the middle of the afternoon, and he hadn’t eaten anything all day except airline pretzels. The sun was still soaking the entire landscape, so Evan chose a table with an umbrella shading it. The temperature was still incredibly pleasing to him compared to the frigid air he had left at home, but his legs and shoulders enjoyed their break from the direct contact with the sun’s rays. It was only when his body was away from the sunlight that he became fully aware of how sunburned he already was. He silently grinned to himself that winter sunburn was far better than the cold and ice he had left only hours earlier.

The food was delicious, and the atmosphere helped Evan break out into a momentary smile. Maybe this was why he had just packed a bag and gotten onto the plane. He looked around and wondered how anyone could feel bad in a place like this.

Chapter 2

Four years earlier, Evan and Rachel had shared their vows in front of their families and friends. Hope and optimism flowed everywhere with the belief that they had finally found the missing piece to each other’s life puzzle. They had dated a couple years, relishing the company of the other, and for their inner circle it was always a matter of when, not if the two would get married.

The honeymoon had been incredible—a full week of sightseeing, golf, beaches, and romance. Intimate dinners had capped each day as the two quickly made the adjustment to fully sharing their lives as well as the same last name. It all seemed so promising then—a future together without any limits, a chance to joyfully grow old with that one other person destiny meant for each of us to find and share everything with. The first five months were a continuation of the honeymoon, and there were a thousand reasons for continued optimism regarding their marriage. The sixth month, however, began what turned out to be the first step in an irreversible journey in the wrong direction.

It was a warm, sunny Labor Day, and the weather was perfect. Summer was slowly walking itself to its exit, and the first signs of autumn were approaching the same door. Evan and Rachel spent a leisurely morning waiting for the afternoon to arrive so they could head to the cookout. A peaceful afternoon with family and friends seemed a great way to celebrate the end of an exceptional summer. Yard games and cheerful conversation filled the backyard, and the pile of empty beer cans grew larger by the hour. None of the dozen or so people there even spoke of work or problems, and the afternoon slowly wasted away to everyone’s satisfaction amid laughter and smiles. Then Rachel’s cell phone rang, and time stopped. Evan knew that something important and unusual was happening just by the expression Rachel suddenly wore on her face. He had never seen such a look of wide-eyed urgency before in his wife’s expression, and he was instantly concerned and curious. By the time she put her phone down, the others were equally as curious as Evan was.

Evan rose to his feet and quickly asked, What is it? What’s wrong?

Rachel answered excitedly. We need to leave. My unit has been called up, and we are being sent to New Orleans to help clean up Hurricane Katrina.

Rachel’s mom chimed in. I’ve seen a lot of that damage on TV, and it’s awful. You be careful down there.

I’ll be fine, replied Rachel confidently. She gathered her things and continued speaking to the group. We leave the fort at 7:00 AM tomorrow, so I’ve got a lot to do.

Tomorrow? asked Evan. Nice of them to give you at least a few hours notice. That’s unbelievable.

I know, echoed Rachel. Evidently Louisiana just requested us, and they want us to get down there as soon as we can. I’m sorry everyone, but we have to go.

She gave quick hugs to everyone, and she and Evan sped home. The rest of her day was spent frantically packing her gear and planning at least a month’s worth of lessons for her students. She called her principal, Mr. Allen, and filled him in on her orders. I have no idea exactly how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll keep you posted. I’m sorry to do this to you with such short notice, but I just found out a couple hours ago myself.

It’s fine, responded Mr. Allen. We’ll get your classes covered and try to stay with the lesson plans you leave. Evan can just bring them up to me in the morning. We’re proud of your service.

Thank you, beamed Rachel. "I’ll see you when I get back.

Mr. Allen had no idea how many times he would get similar phone calls from Rachel in the months ahead.

Since her unit was leaving very early the next morning, Rachel thought it would be better to leave for the fort that night and already be there when she woke up, rather than chancing an unforeseen problem in the morning that could make her late. Evan helped her load her vehicle and by 8:00 that evening she was ready to go. They stood in their driveway wrapped together in a long hug, one that would have to last at least a month. She looked at her watch, and they both knew she had to leave. Rachel finally made it official. I have to go, she whispered.

I know. I’ll echo your mom though. Be careful.

She smiled and laughed. Don’t worry. Wherever the army takes me, I’ll always come back to you. This is why I joined the Guard. Following a long, romantic kiss, Rachel climbed into her car and drove away.

Evan stood motionless in the driveway as she turned the corner and disappeared from his view, and then he sat on the front step for several minutes, trying to imagine what lay ahead for his wife. Rachel had been a soldier in the National Guard when Evan first met her, and for him, it was an appealing part of who she was. He had always been proud of her service, and he gladly shared her with her unit one weekend every month. This, however, was different. He wondered to himself how this experience would change her. She would surely be thrown into scenes of destruction and death, and those things can change everyone.

Evan had one more beer following his sidewalk café meal, and he sat and watched the nameless people continue to pass by him. While he watched, he remembered that month when Rachel had been gone. He remembered the stories she had told him when she had returned home, stories of the great horrors she had seen. There had been many, and he remembered being somewhat uncomfortable by the enthusiasm she had shown each time she had recounted her adventures.

She had even temporarily lost her sense of smell on that trip, and Evan couldn’t imagine a stench potent or constant enough to do that to a person in such a short time, but something had caused it. Her vocabulary changed too. Evan had already seen an increase in her swearing and rough talk just from drill weekends, but this was way beyond that. It got to the point where Evan had to ask her to clean up her words. He remembered the surprise in Rachel’s face, as she wasn’t even aware of how she had been talking. He often wondered to himself what kinds of conversations could so rapidly change her words so dramatically, yet those words rolled out of her mouth with such ease that it seemed to be natural for her. At times, her language was so rough that Evan had to look and make sure that it was really Rachel who was speaking.

Evan remembered one other very odd day after she got back from New Orleans when Rachel decided that she wanted to bake something. He wasn’t sure what was in the oven, but after a while, she was off doing something in another part of the house, and he knew he could smell something burning. The aroma was potent, and Evan knew something was very wrong. He quickly rushed into the kitchen and saw smoke billowing from their oven. Holy cow! he exclaimed. What happened here? Rachel get in here! He turned the oven off, opened the door, and the smoke filled the kitchen. The burned smell began to get the best of him, and he began coughing.

Rachel came in and was horrified as she saw the results of her cooking project. She fought through the smoke, grabbed hot-pan holders, and brought the tray out of the oven. She dropped the smoldering pan into the sink and opened several windows to help alleviate the smoke in the room. Whatever she had intended on baking had turned into black globs that smelled as bad as they looked.

Did you forget you were cooking? he asked. That smell is awful.

I got busy with my computer stuff and lost track of how long it had been in the oven, she answered.

Couldn’t you smell it? It made me sick from where I was sitting in the living room.

Rachel paused for a second and then walked to the sink. She slightly bent over and then gave Evan an odd look. I can’t smell anything even this close. That’s weird. I can’t smell it at all.

That’s unbelievable, responded Evan. Right now I wish I couldn’t smell anything either. It’s terrible. Man, how potent were the odors in New Orleans if it killed your sense of smell in just a month?

It was pretty bad, but I just thought I had gotten used to it. I guess not. There was stagnant standing water everywhere, and we weren’t allowed to even step in it. The stench was pretty incredible.

I can’t even imagine. Do you need help cleaning this up?

No, I’ve got it, she answered. The smoke in the kitchen had begun to clear, but the odor continued to hang over the entire house. Evan again wondered to himself about her month away from him. He wondered about all the things she had really seen and done, and he was not anxious to find out what other effects of that trip would be revealed to him in the days ahead.

Chapter 3

Evan rose from the restaurant table, left a large tip, and began walking again. He walked without any real purpose toward an unknown destination. Maybe escaping by himself wasn’t the best answer for Evan, but he had felt like a prisoner at home, and he knew he had to leave, at least for a while. He had been an optimist for as much of his life as he could remember, and somewhere inside himself, he was searching for the silver lining in his current situation. The afternoon wasn’t quite ready to surrender to the evening yet, so Evan hopped into his rented convertible and drove. With the top down, the warm breeze caressed his face as he left Fort Myers and crossed the bridge to Sanibel Island. The scene before him looked like a watercolor painting of paradise. Beautiful long stretches of blue water surrounded the bridge and dominated the foreground of the canvas. The outlines of trees, beach houses, and sailboats filled the middle of the painting, and the picture was completed by the cloudless blue winter sky above. Had he really been shoveling snow yesterday at home?

Evan stopped at the toll booth and paid the six dollars required to drive onto the island. When he drove through the toll gate, he knew he had entered an entirely new world, a world connected to the mainland but very much full of its own unique individuality. He drove down the main highway that ran the length of the island, gazing at the shops, restaurants, homes, and endless palm trees. He had seen them once before, but everything was new again. At the north end of the island, he found a public beach and decided to see what it had to offer him. He frowned when he paid the five dollars to park his car, but he paid it and then walked leisurely toward the sand.

This beach was far rougher than Fort Myers Beach and was far more deserted, which was fine with Evan. The laughter, fun, and play he had watched at the other beach didn’t seem to match his mood, but this one did. The cool wind, the whitecaps, and the mostly deserted stretches of sand suited him much better. He knew that here he could walk without distraction or just sit and try and sort out the myriad of thoughts and emotions that plagued him. He could even let out that scream he had thought of earlier if he so desired. He chose to sit in the sand and attempt to drink in his tropical surroundings.

Eventually, the sun began fading in the distance, and Evan was surprised how quickly the temperature began to fall. The gulf breeze now felt cold on his sunburned legs and shoulders, and he wished he had brought along pants and a jacket. He realized that his shorts and T-shirt were clearly now not enough to keep him warm, yet the sea mesmerized him for another half hour until he realized that he was shivering uncontrollably.

There were two couples walking hand in hand on the beach as Evan quickly made his way back to his convertible. He was jealous of them immediately, and their cheerful smiles and shared warmth served as a visual contrast to Evan’s solitary shivering. He put the top back up on his car and even turned the heater on for a few moments to get rid of the chill he felt. He quickly warmed up again and as he recrossed the bridge to the mainland and returned to Fort Myers he became frustrated that the more desolate beach hadn’t really helped him sort anything out. He wondered if there was any place that could do that.

Back in his hotel room, Evan grabbed a beer from his room’s refrigerator and pulled a chair out onto his deck. The traffic moved along below him, totally unaware of and not caring about the solitary figure watching them from above. Nobody at all knew him there, and for now, that was how Evan wanted it. He wanted to be anonymous and invisible as he tried to sort his life out. He thought back to the ending of the movie City Slickers, and he wondered if his life could be a do over like one of the characters’ life was. Can a person