The distant sound of machine guns and mortars crackle violently...echoing through the valley-reverberating off the corrugated tin roofs of makeshift barracks...Barracks? Where am I? The stench of sweat and blood burns my nostrils...My body writhes furiously in what I assume is a terrible nightmare. Eyes locked shut...unable to open them...I feel somewhat paralyzed as I feel something...no... someone staring down at me as I dream...tossing and turning...the anxiety and fear building inside...face feeling flushed as I feel the form staring down at me come closer...the weight and warmth enveloping me...my eyes snap open and as I catch a quick glimpse...I let out a scream...and then I gasp....my eyes come into focus on a young man...handsome...familiar...
Where have I seen that face before? I study him thoroughly...bewildered...I can't seem to place him...
His smooth, youthful face breaks into a wide smile as he asks me "Hello, beautiful! Where in God's name did you come from?"
"What do you mean? You are in my room!"
"No, honey, I’m afraid not!” You are on my pallet! How did you get here?
Suddenly, I become aware that he is right-I am no longer in the comfort of my own bed, but on this hard, uncomfortable, cot, with heavy, scratchy, green-camouflaged bedding. I sit up quickly...panicked. He places a gentle hand on my shoulder, still smiling. I look down and realize I am still in my pajamas...an intimate, off-white, filmy gown. I pull the covers up to my chin to regain my privacy. Shaking and near tears, I gaze blankly at him; not knowing what to make of it all.
He begins to question me in a strong, buttery, northern accent. "So, what brings you to Vietnam?"
"Vietnam?!?!” I nearly shout at him. Covering my mouth apologetically, I feel my face flush again.
"Yep, Nam, baby! We're in the middle of the Vietnam war! The year 1967!!!" He spreads his arms out, exclaiming exuberantly.
"OMG! 1967?! What the hell? How did I get here?"
"O...M..G?" He looks at me, puzzled.
"Yeah, it means, Oh My God! Everyone says it!"
He laughs, raising his eyebrows, and retorts,"You're not from around here, are ya?"
"Well, DUH! Ya think?" I reply smartly.
He shakes his head in disbelief. "No one talks like that here, so where are you really from?"
"I live in Texas, and it's the year 2013!"
"Texas? 2013? I would have thought you would look much different...like half alien, half cowgirl."
"Gee, Thanks!" I reply, rolling my eyes, slightly giggling at such a stereotypical assumption.
His hand rests on my shoulder again, lightly caressing it. He begins to play with the ruffled strap of my nightgown. I look over to my shoulder, enjoying his touch. Trying not to give myself away, I close my eyes slightly. I quickly look up again to find him staring forlornly at me. I am sure it has been a while since he has seen or even touched a woman. A welcome sight I must be! Our eyes meet, piercing each other's soul with a penetrating gaze that cuts through the time and space between us. His eyes become misty and he blinks several times before turning away. I reach out and I touch the side of his face. Running my hands through his dark, slicked-back hair which waves in the back and on top. He is real! How can this be a dream? He turns to face me again, with the same look. Our hands touch, he begins to trace the back of my hand with his finger. My other hand rests on his, and he takes both of my hands up to his lips and kisses each one. I blush profusely, quickly pulling away. He lunges forward, catching me off guard, and kisses me. I fall back, he catches me in his arms, and pulls me to him. My breathing quickens...chest begins to rise and fall rapidly. I try to push him away.
"I can't --this is not right...I can't!" I push him off.
"You're married, aren't you?" He asks, disappointed.
"Yes...as a matter of fact, I am. I'm sorry, but It's not right! I love my husband!"
"Lucky man -- Your husband! I can only hope to find someone like you, someday!" He exclaims, straightening up his jumpsuit.
I just happen to notice he's wearing a jumpsuit that looks vaguely familiar to one I saw Eric wearing in a picture from when he was in Vietnam! The young man sits back down on the cot next to me. I begin touching the patches and stripes on his jumpsuit, noticing it says "U.S. Air Force" on the left side above his heart, and on the right, a faded name I.D. patch. I can barely make out, what I believe to say, Cugino! No...this can't be! This can’t be him! My face drains of all color...shock overwhelms me as my eyes glaze over, dumbfounded at my discovery.
"What's wrong, darlin' ? You look as if you've seen a ghost!" Appearing concerned, he clasps my hands tightly, caressing my cheek.
"That's not even the word for it!" I exclaim.
What is going on here? Confused and afraid that I may be trapped in this dream-state, I begin to cry. He gently leans in toward me, kissing my forehead. He begins to whisper to me..."Rest now...just rest...I'm here...I'm here..." My eyes flutter before closing to enter into another fitful sleep. His face begins to blur before me, yet I still feel the back of his hand caressing my cheek, his hand still holding tightly onto mine.
*****
My head thrashes side to side, tears pouring down my face, I feel strong arms holding onto mine as I reach for an invisible form, begging for it not to abandon me. Trying to force my eyes open to see who's holding me; my vision, blurry at first, begins to focus in on the familiar face of my husband. Very much relieved, I embrace him. My breathing begins to slow, and I regain my sense of reality. He encourages me to share with him the dream I just experienced. Expelling every detail, he is astounded at how accurate it all seems. Right down to the year he was there!
"That's quite a dream, sweet darlin'!"
"Yeah, it seemed so real! He seemed so real! He had your mannerisms and everything!"
"What if it was me?" He questions, in half disbelief.
"I guess it's possible! Right?"
He shrugs his shoulders, kisses me on the forehead, and walks out to the kitchen to make coffee. Leaving me with my thoughts and questions of what had just occurred within the realm of sleep. Wondering, if I closed my eyes... would I return to that moment?
To be continued...
Where have I seen that face before? I study him thoroughly...bewildered...I can't seem to place him...
His smooth, youthful face breaks into a wide smile as he asks me "Hello, beautiful! Where in God's name did you come from?"
"What do you mean? You are in my room!"
"No, honey, I’m afraid not!” You are on my pallet! How did you get here?
Suddenly, I become aware that he is right-I am no longer in the comfort of my own bed, but on this hard, uncomfortable, cot, with heavy, scratchy, green-camouflaged bedding. I sit up quickly...panicked. He places a gentle hand on my shoulder, still smiling. I look down and realize I am still in my pajamas...an intimate, off-white, filmy gown. I pull the covers up to my chin to regain my privacy. Shaking and near tears, I gaze blankly at him; not knowing what to make of it all.
He begins to question me in a strong, buttery, northern accent. "So, what brings you to Vietnam?"
"Vietnam?!?!” I nearly shout at him. Covering my mouth apologetically, I feel my face flush again.
"Yep, Nam, baby! We're in the middle of the Vietnam war! The year 1967!!!" He spreads his arms out, exclaiming exuberantly.
"OMG! 1967?! What the hell? How did I get here?"
"O...M..G?" He looks at me, puzzled.
"Yeah, it means, Oh My God! Everyone says it!"
He laughs, raising his eyebrows, and retorts,"You're not from around here, are ya?"
"Well, DUH! Ya think?" I reply smartly.
He shakes his head in disbelief. "No one talks like that here, so where are you really from?"
"I live in Texas, and it's the year 2013!"
"Texas? 2013? I would have thought you would look much different...like half alien, half cowgirl."
"Gee, Thanks!" I reply, rolling my eyes, slightly giggling at such a stereotypical assumption.
His hand rests on my shoulder again, lightly caressing it. He begins to play with the ruffled strap of my nightgown. I look over to my shoulder, enjoying his touch. Trying not to give myself away, I close my eyes slightly. I quickly look up again to find him staring forlornly at me. I am sure it has been a while since he has seen or even touched a woman. A welcome sight I must be! Our eyes meet, piercing each other's soul with a penetrating gaze that cuts through the time and space between us. His eyes become misty and he blinks several times before turning away. I reach out and I touch the side of his face. Running my hands through his dark, slicked-back hair which waves in the back and on top. He is real! How can this be a dream? He turns to face me again, with the same look. Our hands touch, he begins to trace the back of my hand with his finger. My other hand rests on his, and he takes both of my hands up to his lips and kisses each one. I blush profusely, quickly pulling away. He lunges forward, catching me off guard, and kisses me. I fall back, he catches me in his arms, and pulls me to him. My breathing quickens...chest begins to rise and fall rapidly. I try to push him away.
"I can't --this is not right...I can't!" I push him off.
"You're married, aren't you?" He asks, disappointed.
"Yes...as a matter of fact, I am. I'm sorry, but It's not right! I love my husband!"
"Lucky man -- Your husband! I can only hope to find someone like you, someday!" He exclaims, straightening up his jumpsuit.
I just happen to notice he's wearing a jumpsuit that looks vaguely familiar to one I saw Eric wearing in a picture from when he was in Vietnam! The young man sits back down on the cot next to me. I begin touching the patches and stripes on his jumpsuit, noticing it says "U.S. Air Force" on the left side above his heart, and on the right, a faded name I.D. patch. I can barely make out, what I believe to say, Cugino! No...this can't be! This can’t be him! My face drains of all color...shock overwhelms me as my eyes glaze over, dumbfounded at my discovery.
"What's wrong, darlin' ? You look as if you've seen a ghost!" Appearing concerned, he clasps my hands tightly, caressing my cheek.
"That's not even the word for it!" I exclaim.
What is going on here? Confused and afraid that I may be trapped in this dream-state, I begin to cry. He gently leans in toward me, kissing my forehead. He begins to whisper to me..."Rest now...just rest...I'm here...I'm here..." My eyes flutter before closing to enter into another fitful sleep. His face begins to blur before me, yet I still feel the back of his hand caressing my cheek, his hand still holding tightly onto mine.
*****
My head thrashes side to side, tears pouring down my face, I feel strong arms holding onto mine as I reach for an invisible form, begging for it not to abandon me. Trying to force my eyes open to see who's holding me; my vision, blurry at first, begins to focus in on the familiar face of my husband. Very much relieved, I embrace him. My breathing begins to slow, and I regain my sense of reality. He encourages me to share with him the dream I just experienced. Expelling every detail, he is astounded at how accurate it all seems. Right down to the year he was there!
"That's quite a dream, sweet darlin'!"
"Yeah, it seemed so real! He seemed so real! He had your mannerisms and everything!"
"What if it was me?" He questions, in half disbelief.
"I guess it's possible! Right?"
He shrugs his shoulders, kisses me on the forehead, and walks out to the kitchen to make coffee. Leaving me with my thoughts and questions of what had just occurred within the realm of sleep. Wondering, if I closed my eyes... would I return to that moment?
To be continued...
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