S.M.A.R.T. (The Subject of Mind Altering Research and Testing)

Chapter Five

The car pulled up to the white house on the circle, and before Michael could get one foot onto the road, the door flew open, and Sheila ran down the driveway in hysterics. They were joyful tears, but the sight of her father - skinny, unshaven and barely recognizable - must have turned them to sadness. She hugged him fiercely. As weak as Michael was, he picked up his daughter, and squeezed back with all his might. When he put her down, he saw his wife standing there with tears in her eyes too. Jane. My sweet Jane. She was trying to hide the tears with a smile, but Michael knew her too well. She looked at his thin face and let them stream. She held him close, and he wiped her cheeks.

"It's alright honey. I'm alright, and I'm home now. And I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Jane's body forced her to shiver, and let out a shuddering gasp mid-sentence. "You're not going a-a-nywhere ever again," she sobbed back.

The car drove off soon after. Michael hadn't had anything in it; everything he loved was right in front of him. He pinched his arm just to make sure he wasn't asleep before he followed Sheila and Jane up the driveway, then the familiar porch steps, and through the door. Home.

The inside of the house was different than when Michael had last seen it. Jane had rearranged the furniture. He imagined it was to try and help her move on, in case he never came home. She had gotten thinner too. It hurt him to think about what she must have gone through. The thoughts of her home, alone and scared for him, and not knowing the next step to take. Of all the pain I've gone through during this whole mess, this hurts the worst. 

They spent the entire week together as a family, Michael waiting every day - like he had before - for Sheila to get off the bus. The three played board games together every night, until much past Sheila's bedtime. Sheila didn't go to school for the rest of the week. Both Michael and Jane decided they all needed a vacation.

Michael started to gain his weight back quickly, and so did Jane. She cooked three huge meals a day, and made him eat until he couldn't stand one more bite. When the two were both nearly stuffed, they would eat bite-for-bite until one gave up, and after that, they would have dessert. Jane made fantastic desserts too. She took extra care this week. Sheila would laugh at their antics. She seemed to be getting back to normal, which made both of them her parents happy. She was thin to begin with and never lost much weight, but her mood was genuinely bright again. I am the luckiest man in the world to have them.

At night him and Jane would put Sheila to bed together and go right to their bedroom. He missed the feel of her smooth skin. He missed the taste of her, and from the way she acted behind the door, he could tell she had missed him too.

The only time he had gone back to work for the next month was for debriefing, three days after he had returned.

"Both of you, take a seat." His sergeant had said to him and the General. The General was to be debriefed with Michael, and the two took seats side by side at the desk.

"Now, to start, General Moore, can you recount the details of the mission?"

The General then recounted the escape detail by detail, though he failed to mention why he had been chosen for this mission. It did not seem proper to ask, Michael thought, so he speculated instead. Perhaps he had been the only one who knew Russian well enough, or maybe there is something bigger that I don't know yet.

"Good. And Michael, are there any details you'd like to add, and is this an accurate account of the rescue?"

"Yes."

"Good. And now will you account the details of the day of your capture?"

Michael started to explain. He had been given plenty of time to think on the day of his capture while he sat in his wet cell. No part of him had expected the mission would go quite so wrong. It was supposed to have been a simple exchange of food and water, for the safe return of another American hostage.