Left Behind
“Aunt Ashy?”
Avery’s inquisitive voice broke her from her faraway thoughts as she brought the coffee mug up to her lips, drinking in the much-needed remedy from having been unable to sleep at all the night before and feeling the heaviness from her fatigue and deep sadness. She had tossed and turned relentlessly in her bed while tears had punctuated her foray into her memories, each one of her and Chris and the priceless bond they had shared— moments that had felt like a lifetime again and only just yesterday. She had felt small and suffocated as her feet moved aimlessly under the covers, kicking about to free herself from the itchy confines of her bed while pleading with her thoughts to quiet just long enough for her to close her eyes and drift off. But no matter how much time had passed or how exhausted she felt, her eyes remained open, staring into the dark blankness of the room as she listened to the sounds of the old house creaking and settling around her and feeling even more alone than she ever had in her life.
After putting the girls down for bed around 8:00 which had consisted of bath time and a Dr. Suess book, Ali had shown her to her temporary room— a nice-sized guest room on the first floor towards the back of the house that had a double bed, large oak armoire, and a small dark wood night stand that she recognized from her father’s house growing up. Chris had collected quite a few of their grandmother’s furniture from their father as wedding gifts, having more use for them than she did after having moved into the large house with Ali. It had momentarily comforted Ashlyn when she had seen the night stand and the various other familiarities from her childhood— a grandfather clock in the corner of the living room, a cedar chest in the foyer in which she presumed Ali kept blankets or something of the like, and an antique piano that she had learned to play on when she had grown up which sat in the spacious dining room adjacent to the table. She was flooded with so many memories of these things that she and Chris had encountered so many times in their home growing up, their father having inherited them before they had been born. Though they had never met their grandmother, Ashlyn could tell by the well-crafted, classy furniture that she must have had wonderful taste in home decor. And as she moved through the house and into her new room, she could tell that Ali did as well.
“Why is Mommy still in her bed?” Avery asked as Ashlyn glanced down from her position in front of the coffee maker that the family kept on the counter next to the sink, confused blue eyes locking onto dark hazel.
“She never stays in bed this long,” Ella added as she joined Avery in standing in front of their aunt and looking to her for answers.
“Yeah!” Avery said a bit more sternly as she pointed to the stove. “She always makes breakfast by now.”
“Well,” Ashlyn croaked out, her voice hoarse from the near twenty-four hours she’d been awake and all of the emotions that had come about during those hours. “I’m not sure about pancakes, but I can fix you both a bowl of—“ She paused to glance up into the cabinet that Ali had shown her that contained dry goods and snacks in case she got hungry, her hand opening the door as her eyes ran over the cereal options. “Fruity Pebbles— or Frosted Flakes?”
Staring up at her aunt from three feet below, Ella asked with a soft voice, a hint of wonderment in her expression, “Is that a mermaid on your neck?”
“What?” She glanced down in confusion before realizing through her weariness that her niece was referring to her neck tattoo. “Oh, this?” She pointed as the twins both nodded in unison before she answered. “Yeah. It’s a mermaid. I got it because I like going to the beaches in the summertime and surfing.”
“Do you see mermaids when you surf?” Ella asked in excited curiosity, the thought of mermaids making her face light up.
“Mermaids aren’t real, you ding dong,” Avery chastised with a scrunched face, knocking her hand against Ellas shoulder as Ashlyn gave her a look that warmed her to be nice.
“They could be. You don’t know!” Ella retorted as she backed away in annoyance and looked to her aunt for reinforcement. “You could see one, right Aunt Ashy?”
Laughing slightly, Ashlyn’s mouth formed a faint smile before she answered, “Not usually. Although one time, I did see a sea turtle.”
“You did?” They both exclaimed as their eyes widened at the thought.
“I did,” she relied with a nod and smiled a bit more as she took in their messy brown curls bouncing along with their joyous expressions.
“Will you take us surfing, Aunt Ashy?” Avery pleaded, her blue eyes housing an excitement for the prospect of adventure.
She was momentarily taken back by the question as she froze in her gaze at the two young, pleading faces that stared up at her eagerly. Never in her life had a child— or two for that matter— wanted anything at all to do with her. She’d always regarded them with apprehension and distance, never really allowing herself to interact with one, let alone plan an activity or show them how to do anything. It wasn’t that she hated children, quite the opposite in fact. She found them to be amusing and, at times, rather adorable. It was more so that she just didn’t know how to talk to them or even how to act with them, believing children to be some sort of life test with instructions written in a language that she couldn’t read. It was guesswork at best; and if she failed, she’d possibly hurt them and— not that her reputation had mattered much to her— be seen by others as much more defective than they already viewed her.
Compounded with her thoughts of being an inadequate companion for children, another much more troublesome thought occurred to her— her brother should be the one showing his children how to surf in the same way that he had shown her when they were in high school. They should be looking to him for new experiences and guidance, their eyes holding his gaze as they wished for him to take them on a wondrous adventure. She shouldn’t be standing and frozen to the spot in front of his sink debating how to answer the hopeful expressions and pleas of his children. It should be him. And her heart was crushed even more as she realized that the tiny beings had their whole lives to live without the joys of having a good father to foster their growth and teach them things like how to surf, or run behind them as they rode their bicycles without training wheels for the first time, or help them learn how to play a sport or two. They were robbed of that. And she could only stare at their innocent eyes for so long before she decided with an anxious heart that she would do her very best to give them just about anything they asked of her.
“Maybe sometime,” she replied with a shallow smile before pointing to the cereal boxes and asking, “Which one do you guys want?”
“Frosted Flakes!” They both exclaimed before going toward the refrigerator and opening the door, Avery retrieving the milk and gesturing for Ella to follow her to the table, their tiny sock feet plodding as they crossed the floor.
Ashlyn then set her coffee mug down on the white tiled countertop, her gray v-neck stretching as she reached her right arm up to retrieve the blue box with Tony the Tiger displayed across the front. She then furrowed her brows as she looked around the spacious and warm country yellow kitchen, her eyes moving across the expansive white cabinets in search of a likely candidate to house the bowls. After opening two doors with no luck, she remembered that Ali had busied herself with cleaning up after dinner last night and put all of the dishes from the day’s meals into the dishwasher and then set it to run through the wash cycle. She moved over to the left of the sink and opened the dishwasher door, crouching down slightly to pull two bowls and two spoons from within before crossing the kitchen to the table and placing each set in front of the girls.
“Aren’t you eating too, Aunt Ashy?” Ella’s sweet voice asked as she looked worriedly at Ashlyn.
“Umm...” Ashlyn faltered, not knowing how to answer and explain that after eating nothing the previous day she was still lacking an appetite. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Do you ever eat?” Avery asked as she grabbed for the cereal box, opening the pouch inside filling her bowl and passing the box to Ella afterwards.
“Sure, I do,” Ashlyn said as she grabbed the gallon of milk to help the small girls with the heavier part. “I just haven’t felt like it lately.”
“Mommy didn’t eat last night either,” Ella added, her perceptive nature having noticed that her Mommy had been quite different than she normally was.
Knowing that Ali had not yet told them of their father’s death— wanting to wait until after their trip to the hospital— Ashlyn was at an impasse as to what she could actually say to give them an explanation. Seeing as Ali had already told them she wasn’t sick and not to worry about her, she couldn’t say she was suddenly sick now. Plus, she wasn’t really inclined to lie to them. So, there really weren’t a lot of options on what Ashlyn could say to ease their concerns and placate them enough to let the questions go.
“I’m actually going to go and check on your Mom right now,” Ashlyn said as she replaced the lid on the milk and closed the box of cereal, leaving both on the table in case the twins wanted more. She wasn’t entirely sure how much a child of their size could eat, but she figured she’d give them the choice.
“Will you tell her that it’s her turn in the alphabet game?” Avery asked before taking a spoonful of her cereal, comping her jaw as milk dripped down her chin.
“Yeah!” Ella added as she took a bite as well, though much more daintily and keeping the milk inside her mouth. “We didn’t finish last night and it’s her turn!”
“I’ll do my best,” Ashlyn nodded solemnly, not entirely sure what state she’d find Ali in as she turned apprehensively towards the stairs and made her way through the house and up to the second floor.
She breathed a deep sigh, the air flowing through her chest as she ardently tried to stave off her nerves. Though Ali had come down during lunch yesterday and they had sat together at the table for a long while, her sister-in-law had barely said anything to her after inviting her to stay nor had she made much eye contact. Even through the rest of the evening after lunch, Ali had seemed to exist in another dimension, barely able to nod along to the girls’ stories and many times she had failed to answer a question until she was prompted a second time. Ashlyn knew that Ali was dealing with an unbearable heartbreak, something she knew that no one was ever prepared for or could ever envision happening to themselves. No one is ever not completely blindsided by the premature death of a spouse and devastated beyond comprehension. So, she was not at all surprised when she creaked open the door to the master bedroom and found her sister-in-law staring blankly at the wall in the direction where Ashlyn entered, her brown eyes large and unblinking. She was so still and unfazed by the entrance of another person into her space that, if it weren’t for the rise and fall of her chest, Ashlyn might have thought she was a wax figure.
“Al?” Her shaky voice managed to speak as she kept her hand clutched tightly to the doorknob, afraid that if she let go she would lose her nerve.
Ali’s dark eyes shifted up slightly as she averted her gaze to her sister-in-law, making eye contact and seeing the familiar sadness reflected back. She didn’t say anything and Ashlyn wasn’t sure if she really had her attention or not; but she figured she would continue on anyway, stepping further into the room and taking a breath.
“It’s almost time for us to head to the hospital. I checked on Katy and she’s still sleeping. I also got the twins set up with some cereal and I think the neighbor lady is coming over in about twenty minutes. Do you need anything?” Ashlyn asked as her hazel eyes looked on in concern, watching as Ali shook her head ever so slightly. “I can drive you if you want.”
Ali only managed a terse nod as she began to sit up from her fetal position on the large bed, her hands coming to rub deeply at her forehead and eyes and her feet falling to the floor as she swung around towards the doorway.
“I don’t know that I’m ready for this,” Ali’s small voice broke through the somber atmosphere as she dropped her hands to look at Ashlyn through a haze of tears. “What did we do, Ash? What did he do to deserve this?”
Ashlyn could only swallow a thick, gulping lump before looking to her feet as she timidly crossed the floor to sit next to Ali, stating softly as her own tears formed, “Nothing.”
“I’m so sorry, Ash,” Ali sobbed as her hands flew towards her to wrap tightly around broad shoulders, her fists clutching at Ashlyn’s shirt as tears saturated the area in the crook of her neck. “I’m so sorry you lost your brother.”
Ashlyn’s face scrunched in abject sorrow as her weighted hands shakily responded by returning the hug, wrapping themselves gently around the smaller frame of her sister-in-law who cried inconsolably into her chest. She wasn’t sure what she should do or say, having forced herself to remain strong for the past twenty-four hours and refusing to succumb to the melancholy heaviness that they had been left with since the two officers had delivered the life-altering news. She knew how devastated and lost Ali would be after losing her husband, having built a home and life with him— losing the future she had dreamt into existence and having to raise three children without her partner there to help. Ashlyn knew that Ali had it so much worse than anyone else in her brother’s life. However, she never once imagined someone, let alone Ali, recognizing what she had lost— the absence she felt— her brother and best friend, the only person she had ever truly had on her side. But somehow, there she was telling her how she saw her pain— how she saw her. Ali’s words had shifted something within her and she suddenly felt as though someone else besides her brother had finally decided to stand in her corner too.
And she would not take that for granted.
“I’m sorry too,” Ashlyn finally managed a reply after long moments of them holding onto each other for dear life, seemingly attempting to pool their strength together and find a way to do what they needed to in the coming hours and then the coming days.
“Thank you so much for being here,” Ali offered as she pulled away, wiping at her tears with her hands as she attempted to compose herself. “I don’t know what I would do without you— what we would do without you.”
It’s a poignant statement for Ashlyn to have heard someone make in regards to her and her impact on their life. Having had a long, tumultuous relation with a woman who had only ever exclaimed how better off she would be without Ashlyn in her life. So many times she had let down and disappointed those around her— Jessica Baker, her father, most of the friends she’d made, her teachers in high school, and even sometimes her brother— though he would never have admitted as much. She had begun, over the years, to think that no one would ever really need her in their life and perhaps not even want her there; so she had never allowed herself to envision a scenario in which someone would actually be grateful to her, let alone voice their gratitude. Not really knowing how to respond to Ali’s statement, Ashlyn decided to instead voice what she had been lying awake all night in bed wrestling with.
“I— um— I can do it for you, Al. So that you don’t have to see—”
“No,” Ali immediately refused, gripping Ashlyn’s hand and shaking her head forcefully as she closed her eyes to explain. “You shouldn’t have to see either, Ash. I can’t ask that of you.”
“You don’t have to ask,” Ashlyn said sincerely as her hazel eyes stared into chocolate ones. “I want to. I owe it to him.”
“Then we’ll go together,” Ali replied softly with the faintest of smiles in reassurance as she squeezed the larger hand she held, her fingertips rubbing gently across the vein on the backside in an attempt to transfer any strength and determination she could muster. “That way neither of us has to go alone.”
Ashlyn could only nod as she stared unwaveringly into dark eyes that seemed to house something so foreign to her that she almost couldn’t recognize what it was— a sense of belonging as if she would never be alone again.
___________________________________________________________________________
Nearly forty-three minutes later, Ashlyn slowly maneuvered her brother’s truck into a spot near the front of the hospital as Ali continued to stare blankly out of the passenger side window. It had been a quiet ride there, almost too quiet that whatever noises they had heard had seemingly been amplified and felt in their bones. But Ashlyn guessed that a quiet ride was all that could have followed the tearful exchange that had occurred less than twenty minutes prior. After Ali had checked on Baby Katy and kissed the twins good morning, Nanette had knocked on the front door to signal her arrival. As soon as Ashlyn had opened the door to let her in as Ali came to stand behind her, the kind neighbor lady engulfed them both in a hug as tears fell down her cheeks, her voice offering some semblance of a condolence. The three of them allowed the moment to linger, clutching each other for support as Ashlyn fought back tears while the other two allowed them to flow freely. She had been the first person outside of themselves and the military to know about Chris, and Ashlyn couldn’t help but think how much more real and final it had made everything feel.
Ali had spent the majority of the ride thinking of her husband and replaying the recent events over and over in her mind, willing herself to wake up from the nightmare. Chris had been in the military for close to eleven years; and though they had known each other for just over seven of those years, Ali had never once believed for a tiny sliver of a moment that this would be the outcome— that it would have ended in such a way. She had always fantasized about him leaving the Army and getting a regular job in town as they watched their three children grow to become the kinds of people that they had always talked of them being— athletic, social, smart, and driven. They had hypothesized and dreamed of high school projects, dances, big games, and eventually college graduation and weddings. Chris had always told her that he would take her on the honeymoon she had deserved someday, one that he had been unable to give her due to his responsibilities to the military. She had envisioned him being honorably discharged and surprising her one day with tickets to Bora Bora, a place they had agreed on seeing together. But everytime he had surprised her, it had been only for a short while as he was on leave and would have to inevitably return, his last surprise visit coming just a month ago. She relished the days she did have with him as they existed in their own little bubble, just the two of them and their three girls— girls that Chris had told her were growing much too fast for his liking. And Ali sighed sadly as she realized that he wouldn’t even see one of them grow at all.
“That must be them,” Ashlyn’s quiet voice broke Ali from her thoughts as she put the truck in park and killed the engine.
Ali’s eyes followed Ashlyn’s gaze to the two uniformed men standing at the front entrance to the hospital in their Army green dress uniforms, both of them seemingly surveying the parking lot for any sign of them. They were almost robotic in their stance, hands at their sides as though they had been statues situated to greet people as they walked in and out of the hospital. She had never met the one who had called, but she had met Corporal Thomas a few times before and knew him to be a good friend of her husband’s. He was nearly the same age as Chris with a clean shaven appearance and kind eyes. They had both gone through basic training together; and once they had graduated, they both put in for the same assignments in an attempt to stick together. It had worked out wonderfully as they had been assigned to the same Ranger unit at Fort Bragg in North Carolina, keeping Chris close to home. She had met Corporal Thomas on base for the first time when she had visited and she could tell then that they had been pretty close. Chris had been promoted to Staff Sergeant while Thomas became his second in command; and it wasn’t long after that Chris had made Thomas his best man for their wedding. So she wondered just how he was able to separate the pain she knew he must be feeling for the loss of his friend and remain stoic as he waited. She surmised the Army had given them much training for stoicism and briefly remembered how Chris had, at times, been able to do the same.
“Yeah,” Ali finally replied as she glanced to Ashlyn, making eye contact and conveying just how much she was dreading the next hour or so. “The one on the right is Corporal Thomas. He was Chris’s good friend.”
Ashlyn only nodded in response as her eyes searched Ali’s, noticing the darkness settling as tears formed. She could tell that Ali was extremely apprehensive and wanting to be anywhere else, her hands wringing together and her breathing labored. She had meant it when she said she would go in Ali’s place, if only to save her sister-in-law of the heartbreaking image of her fallen husband stretched out on a table and lifeless. In her mind, no one should ever have to see a loved one in such a state, let alone a spouse. She surmised that even though people had dozens of photos and memories of their loved ones, all it took to overshadow those was that one final, haunting image in which their skin was pale and cold, their lips colorless and dry, and their body stitched up from a likely autopsy.
She quickly shook herself of the thought before focusing once more on Ali and moving her right hand to cover Ali’s left, her words offering once more, “I can still be the one who sees him. You can go in and get his things, but I can do it. I can be the one who sees him like that. You don’t have to.”
“Thank you, Ash,” Ali replied as her tears broke through, streaming down her cheeks as she clutched Ashlyn’s hand. “But I know how hard it is going to be for either of us and we both just need to be there for each other.”
“Okay,” she relented before taking her hand from Ali’s and removing the truck keys from their ignition. “I just can’t believe this.” She shook her head as she stared out the windshield.
“Neither can I,” she softly agreed as her hand began to wipe at her eyes, trying desperately to compose herself to meet the two soldiers. “I don’t want to leave this truck, but I know they’re waiting for us.”
After a few more somber moments in the truck, the two women made their way across the front few handicap rows of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk, passing a woman pushing an elderly man in his wheelchair. Ashlyn made it a point to walk a few steps behind Ali as she didn’t know the two uniformed men and they were most likely not expecting her to join them. She figured she would let Ali lead the way and make introductions as they came to stand only a few feet away from a younger guy, whom Ali had specified as Corporal Thomas, and a middle-aged man who seemed to be in a position higher than the Corporal based on his stance and the vast array of ribbons and medals that adorned his chest.
“Mrs. Harris,” the older officer spoke up as they both turned to greet the two women. “I am Sergeant First Class Williams and I believe you have met Corporal Thomas.”
Ali nodded and shook the hand Williams had offered before turning and shaking the Corporal’s and introducing Ashlyn, “This is Chris’ sister Ashlyn Harris.”
“Pleased to meet you Ms. Harris,” Williams spoke first as he extended a hand towards the short-haired woman. “Although I do wish it were under different circumstances. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
Ashlyn nodded as Corporal Thomas followed Williams in greeting her with a handshake and extending his condolences. She reckoned that she would here “I’m sorry for your loss” more times than she would be able to stand over the coming months as that is something people feel obliged to say to a person who has had a death in the family whether they really mean it or not; but, she could tell that the two officers were sincere in their condolences and probably felt some semblance of loss as well.
Once the greetings were done with, Williams opened the door and ushered Ali inside with a gentle hand to her shoulder. Thomas then signaled for Ashlyn to follow, but she hesitated for a moment, not entirely comfortable walking in front of a man in uniform. She faltered briefly before entering the hospital, immediately falling in step behind Thomas once he entered as well. Ashlyn had experienced many encounters with uniformed men— mostly police— and they had never been under good conditions. This time was no different, however, as it was in regards to her brother’s death, the only difference being that she wasn’t being stuffed into the back of a police car, or monitored in her jail cell, or escorted into the court house. She knew the soldier meant her no harm and was only being polite, but she couldn’t shake her conditioned response to being in front of a uniformed man— her response being one of apprehension and mistrust towards their authoritative position over her.
“Right this way, Ladies,” Williams spoke as they moved past a long desk dotted by receptionists, through a double set of doors, and down a narrow corridor.
Ali tried her best to keep pace with the officer, her feet making quick work of the journey as Thomas and Ashlyn trailed behind. She could see to her left and right various hallways indicating the directions to other wings of the hospital— the Emergency Room, Pediatrics, Intensive Care Unit, Maternity Ward and Laboratory. But as they crossed the first floor and eventually turned a corner, her heart began to pound much more rapidly in her chest as she read a sign that said “Morgue.” She could feel her throat tighten as her head began to feel as though it had detached itself from her body. Her breathing became shallow and her mouth grew dry. On the drive over, she had done her best to mentally prepare herself for her first encounter with a morgue and a dead body. And as the group paused in front of the double doors leading to the area indicated by the sign, she realized that she could never really be prepared-- no one could.
Ali felt Ashlyn come to stand next to her moments later as the two soldiers moved to their right, Williams calling someone from his cell phone. Ashlyn could only put a comforting hand on Ali’s trembling shoulder as they made eye contact, searching for any sign in the other’s eyes that they weren’t alright. She could see that Ashlyn was holding everything in, her hazel eyes considerably darker than usual and her shoulders tense and her jaw set tight. Ali could feel the anxiety flowing through her in waves as her tattooed hand gripped her shoulder a bit tighter than Ashlyn probably realized. Ali shifted on her feet as she overheard the officer talking to the person on the other end.
“Mrs. Harris is here with Staff Sergeant Harris’s sister,” Williams spoke stoically into the phone, as he glanced at the two women. “I can walk them to you. Not a problem.”
He ended the call before turning to more squarely face them. “The Chief Medical Examiner has asked us to meet him down the hall in the room on the left. I left Chris’s bag there for you, Mrs. Harris.”
“Thank you,” Ali offered in a shaky voice, her anxiety level rising like the tide. “Will he be-- Will Chris be…” Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to word what she was asking.
“Will he be all stitched up?” Ashlyn finished as she could tell exactly what Ali had been meaning to ask-- it was the same question on her mind as well.
“Well,” Williams began as he could sense the trepidation in their eyes. “He has had an autopsy of which the examiner will go over with you both. However, you won’t actually be seeing his body.”
“I don’t understand,” Ali said with a light shake of her head, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. “I thought I needed to identify him.”
“The Army has identified him,” he clarified before adding, “You will be verifying that identification based on a photograph of his face. Because he was wearing his tags and through fingerprint analysis, we were able to make a positive identification. Your verification is merely a formality. It doesn’t happen often, but the military has been known to misidentify a body before. This is just standard procedure now to ensure that we get it right.”
“I see,” Ali nodded as she looked towards Ashlyn in mild relief, seeing the same reflected back as they neither one had been comfortable with the idea of seeing his body stretched out on a cold, sterile autopsy morgue table.
“Come with me, Ladies,” Williams kindly ordered as he then gestured towards the hallway.
Once they entered the room, Ashlyn let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding probably since they‘d entered the hospital. It wasn’t at all what she had been expecting when they’d arrived and had momentarily debated on exiting the truck in the parking lot. The scene was much more inviting and gentle than she had envisioned-- a soft, leather couch was situated against the far wall with throw pillows at each arm rest, the carpeting was a muted gray and accented by an earthy area rug, there were end tables that each held a soft, warm lamp and various magazines, and two plush chairs sat adjacent to the couch with a coffee table situated in the middle of everything complete with a box of tissues. She had felt as though she stepped into someone’s living room by how peaceful it seemed. It was such a stark contrast to the white, harsh depictions of morgues seen in movies and on television-- and she was grateful.
“Please have a seat, Ladies,” an older gentleman with peppery grey hair combed to the side stood from his spot in one of the chairs as he greeted the group entering the room. “My name is Doctor Ousley. I am the Chief Medical Examiner here at Howard Community Hospital.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ali kindly replied, though her smile was pinched and forced, shaking his proffered hand before Ashlyn followed suit.
The two sat down next to each other on the large couch as the officers stood side-by-side near the doorway, hands held at their waists and their stance shoulder width apart. Ashlyn immediately began to fidget with the hem of her v-neck shirt in discomfort as Ali retrieved a few tissues from the box and began to dab at her tears, her face blotchy and messy hair falling from her bun. Dr. Ousley, pulling his long white lab coat together in the front, returned to his seat to their right as he grabbed a manilla folder from the coffee table in front of him and began to speak in a surprisingly soft voice, his concern on clear display.
“First of all, I am very sorry for the circumstances that have caused you both to have to be here today. I know there is nothing I can say to ease any of this for you both; but the hospital has a wonderful chaplain on staff should either of you wish to speak to him. He would normally be here, but he was called to oncology a few minutes ago.”
Ali nodded as she looked on sadly, waiting for Dr. Ousley to continue. Ashlyn could only clench her jaw and stare blankly ahead, her mind wrestling with the notion that her brother’s lifeless body was being held just down the hallway. It both comforted her and unnerved her to the utmost degrees. On one hand, he was close by and he wouldn’t be one of those soldiers lost forever to their family as their body had been unable to be recovered or identified. He wouldn’t be interred in some mass grave for lost war heroes. He was here and in the hospital, his body able to be laid to rest properly and allow the people who knew him some semblance of closure. But on the other hand, he was laying like some rag doll on a metal table in a morgue, stitched together and probably kept in a freezer like some sort of frozen TV dinner. The thought just didn’t sit well with her as she ran over it in her mind, feeling as though her brother had just become another nameless cadaver.
“As I’m sure you know by now, the Army has identified your husband’s and your brother’s body,” he said as he looked from Ali to Ashlyn, not wanting to leave the other out. “What we are meeting for is to verify the identification and make sure you get his personal belongings as well as his uniforms.”
“Here is his duffle, Mrs. Harris,” Corporal Thomas suddenly spoke as he handed a bag that had been sitting in the corner that neither woman had yet noticed. “All of his personal items are in there as well as his ACU and his tags.”
Ali once again could only manage a curt nod as her words seemed to fail her and she felt the lump taking up residence at the base of her throat. She felt as though she were in a movie scene and watching someone else’s life happening— playing a role as her character found out about her husband dying at war and then going through the process afterwards. It was all too surreal and she could barely bring herself to believe it was her own life. The sadness nearly overwhelmed her as she gazed upon the bag the Corporal was setting next to her position. All that her husband had possessed while away from their home could fit in a thirty by fifty duffle bag. All that was left of him was wrapped up in the confines of Army green canvas.
“I assume you wish for him to be buried in the ASU?” Thomas asked as she averted her eyes from the floor where the bag laid up to the man standing tall above it.
“What?” Her hoarse, shaky voice finally made itself known as she contorted her face in confusion, not having quite registered the question or knew exactly what an ‘ASU’ was.
“His dress uniform?” Thomas clarified as he stepped back a bit further from her. “You would like for him to be buried in it, correct?”
“Oh!” She finally felt the question sink in as she nodded affirmatively. “Yes. That would be fine.”
“I ask because we have that in a separate bag for you and, if you want, we can make the arrangements.”
“Thank you,” Ali replies before wiping a tear from her eye. “I appreciate that.”
“The honor is ours, Ma’am,” Thomas stated as he gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Staff Sergeant Harris was the best of us.”
Ashlyn only continued to look on ahead of her, her eyes focusing on nothing in particular, just allowing the room to fade away as she lost herself in the reality of the situation. There were suddenly arrangements and burials, talk of her brother’s impending funeral filling up the space around her and making it harder to breathe. His death was suddenly real and she could feel her heart hammering away at her chest as she clenched her teeth and mentally reminded herself to keep it together. Ali was next to her. Three children were at home— a home that Ali had invited her to be a part of now— and she needed to remain strong and make sure that she could be there for them all— for her brother. She needed to do what her brother no longer could. She needed to watch out for his family at all costs. It was all there was left for her to do for Chris to repay him for all of the times he had been there for her and bailed her out— sometimes literally. Being there for his family had to be her top priority and she would make sure she held it together. She reasoned with herself that when the sun was down and Ali and the girls were all asleep, then and only then could she allow herself to break— to feel it all and let the tears fall down.
“What is it that I have to do now?” Ali asked, her words a bit clipped as she worked hard to maintain her composure and get through whatever protocol there was.
“Mrs. Harris,” Dr. Ousley began as he laid the manilla envelope onto the coffee table in front of them all, his hand hovering over the edge as he proceeded to explain. “I have a photograph of your husband which depicts him from his shoulders to the top of his head. What you will see may be very upsetting for you and I am obligated to warn you of this beforehand. Should you need me to close the folder, I will not hesitate. Your husband sustained head trauma as he was buried under the weight of debris from the explosion. In addition to massive skull fracture, his airway was restricted as his trachea was crushed and he died primarily of asphyxiation.”
Tears blurred Ali’s eyes as her breath caught in her throat, her eyes locked onto the manilla folder housing the harrowing image of her dead husband post trauma. She was unsure of what to expect, not only from the photo, but from herself as well. Up to that point, she had maintained her composure and kept her tears at bay for much longer than she had expected. And she wondered if she would be able to do the same once the folder was opened. It was then she felt a hand grip onto hers from her side, her eyes averting to take in the equally fearful eyes of her sister-in-law. She momentarily allowed the tiniest wave of relief to rush through her as she remembered she wasn’t alone and did not have to be the only one left to deal with the damage done by seeing the photo. Though a photo was much less than gazing directly upon the deceased body of her loved one, she was still sure that it’s image would be no less haunting and probably consume her thoughts and dreams for a long time to come.
“Ok,” she whispered to the doctor as she nodded, squeezing Ashlyn’s hand for support and strength. “You can open the folder.”
Nodding in confirmation, Dr. Ousley slowly opened the folder and turned the image around to face the two women, eliciting a gasp from the long haired one and a strangled gulp from the other. He was truly saddened in each and every one of these situations, feeling the utmost sympathy as he watched the reaction of the family and friends of the deceased individuals he had been assigned to examine. It was not something that got any easier throughout his long career. It was even worse when these individuals happened to be young people with a long life ahead. But it was the absolute worst when it was a service member taken from his family during global conflict. Dr. Ousley would never see fairness or sense in any of it.
Sobbing as the tears stained her cheeks, Ali only managed a faint nod as the room in front of her, the photo included faded into a blur as she fought to breathe before choking out a strangled, “Yes… It’s him.”
Ashlyn remained breathless, her eyes burning through the image of her brother’s lifeless face— bruising covering the right side of his forehead and the utter paleness of his skin as his beard matted around the sides. He had never had a long beard before; but she guessed that in the middle of the desert, he had found it harder to save properly. Her thoughts then drifted to his last days and what that must have been like for him out in the middle of nowhere and not knowing what would happen. Was he homesick? Did he have adequate food and water? How did he deal with being away from his family? Did he think he would die? So many questions plagued her— questions that would never find answers— as she stared firmly at the photo. It was then she felt the grip on her hand slacken as Ali brought her hands up to cover her eyes, wiping frantically at the falling tears and trembling in turn.
Her voice finally made itself known since entering the room and letting Ali take the lead. “I think we’ve seen enough. You can close the folder.”
It was approximately twenty-seven minutes later that Ali and Ashlyn had made their way back to the truck, their heaviness bulking them down as though they had worn ankle weights to cross the parking lot. It had been both more than they had been prepared for and less than they were expecting as they had driven over to the hospital an hour before; and neither one had uttered a single word since Ashlyn had told the doctor to put the image away. The two officers had offered their comfort as best as they could before escorting the two women out of the hospital, letting Ali know they would arrange for the proper military funeral and help her in any way they could. She had only nodded them on as she took the proffered duffle they had retrieved for her from the rubble of the explosion. The bag itself had held up surprisingly well and it was fortunate— Thomas had said— that Chris had yet to unpack, having only arrived at the bunker the previous morning and thus allowing for his things to be easily retrieved. Fortunate— As if anything had been fortunate.
Gripping to Chris’ Army duffle, Ali sat in the truck on the passenger side motionless and completely lost in her own thoughts as she wondered what she was to do or think now. The past twenty-six hours had been a complete whirlwind that had upended her life. Her marriage— her future— her best friend was gone and now she was left to raise children that would never really know their father. Two girls would only know him from distant memories and stories that they would vaguely remember; but one wouldn’t know him at all. One would only ever know him from old photographs and secondhand memories that she would never feel a part of. The thought terrified Ali as she wondered how long until she began to forget as well. How long until the smell of his Old Spice or the sound of his laughter faded? How long until she forgot the burning sensation his touch ignited across her skin or the way his kisses tasted like peppermint? How long until he was forgotten to the point of no longer existing?
She was so lost in her thoughts throughout the entire drive home that she didn’t register the truck had shut off until Ashlyn spoke, “Al? Do you need anything?”
“Oh— um,” Ali faltered as she broke herself from her trance, looking across the bench seat into sad hazel eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now? What do I do now?”
“I don’t know,” Ashlyn softly replied as she looked down to her hands that still gripped the steering wheel.
It was only for the briefest of moments, but Ashlyn allowed her mind to drift off as she reflected on the events that had transpired since Ali had picked her up from a bar, drunk and slightly beaten up. It had seemed so very long ago that she was that person— that carefree, charge into trouble girl who’d had a few too many beers and gotten into a scuffle with a trio of much larger guys that she had rubbed the wrong way as she’d sauntered by them with enough swagger to have stolen all of their wives. She could only think of that now as though it had occurred a million years ago or in someone else’s life, surely a night like that doesn’t end up becoming the day she lost her brother. None of it made any sense. At the bar, she’d had no idea— no inkling— that her life was about to take such a drastic turn and she would wind up driving her sister-in-law to a hospital to identify her dead brother’s corpse. There was just no rhyme or reason to any of it. And she wondered just how much worse things could get from there.
A jingling broke Ashlyn from her thoughts as Ali’s hand came into her vision, clutching a chain and two tags that she could feel sink her heart to the pit of her stomach.
“Here, Ash,” Ali’s fatigued voice began as she sniffled back her tears. “You should have these.”
“Oh— I couldn’t,” she faltered in her response, barely able to feel the tear make its way from her own eye. “Those are—“
“Please,” she pleaded with Ashlyn to just take them, to give her one less thing to feel the weight from. “He would want you to have them.”
“Ali, I—“ she began with a shake of her head before Ali interrupted again.
“They don’t belong with anyone else,” Ali said with conviction as she placed the tags into Ashlyn’s palm and closed her tattooed fingers over them, seemingly sealing it into a done deal. “He would be really proud of the way you have been there for us since we found out. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You already thanked me today,” Ashlyn reminded her as she fingered the tags and slowly brought them up and over her head to dangle around her neck. “I’ll never take them off, Ali. Thank you.”
“The next few weeks are going to be really hard, especially for the girls once they know,” Ali said through a conglomerate of tears as she turned away from Ashlyn’s gaze. “I hope you will stick around for a while. I can't be alone.”
If Ashlyn has been unsure of where she belonged or what she should do going forward, then Ali’s soft confession made her decision for her.
“I’m not going anywhere.”