The General Store

Chapter 23: Regret

Exactly twenty two days past and no news had emerged from the jungle about the whereabouts of Pat. I beat myself up so much I had gotten myself sick. I couldn't keep any substance down, I had a low but constant fever, a cough that gave everyone the impression I had lung cancer and I was so weak I could hardly walk. I couldn't live with myself to think that he died contemplating the argument we had. I lay in high dependency, a drip lodged in my arm and my body deteriorating rapidly. Penny was nursing me, she'd practically ordered Matron to let her special me because she was the only person who understood everything.
'We're gonna get out of this mess Brookie, I promise.' She stroked my forehead.
'I'm sick of promises.' I sniffed weakly. A pile of Australian newspapers and magazines sat beside my bed.
"Australian Cricketer Dies For His Country!"
"Gone But Never Forgotten"
"Carmondy, Lost!"
"Pat To Bat His Final Over!"
Every time someone bought in a new one, my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, I'd lost my life saver and I was not coping.
'Did you check the POW lists?' I asked, groggily.
'Yeah I did, there was nothing on there Brooke, I'm sorry.' Penny sighed, her eyes sympathetically staring down at me. I closed mine, in attempt to fall asleep and forget about everything that was going on, but who was I kidding? Sleep, when it came, just bought nightmares and those are worse than thoughts.
'Do you want anything?' Penny asked softly.
'In our room, under my bed is a box, could you grab it for me please?' I replied.
'Of course I'll be right back.' Penny quickly scuttled away, I leant over and grabbed a magazine, groaning in pain.

"CARMONDY FACING THE INNINGS OF HIS LIFE!"
Australian keeper of wickets / batsmen, Patrick Carmondy is 21 years old. His whole life revolves around cricket and his girlfriend, just like most kids his age but he's different. He was sent to Vietnam, which ordered him to mature faster than he had too. Carmondy has been over there for nearly two years and has managed to come out almost unscathed but he was declared missing in action and presumed dead during a battle that happened almost a week ago.

'Why are you reading those?!' Penny snatched the paper out of my hand.
'Because I just wanted to see what they're saying at home.' I said, taking the box from her. I sat up slowly, leaning against the steel bed head. I removed the lid and revealed my photographs.
'This is home.' I said, handing Penny the picture of my little cove.

'It's beautiful.' Penny studied it and I nodded.
'This is my brothers.' I looked down at the photo of the three boys on the beach, their backs to the camera and their heads down.

'Your family are so beautiful.' Penny said.
'I reckon mum has about thirty copies of this photo.' I stated, revealing the picture I took of the both of us on my bed. Pat's head was rested on my upper chest and his bed Hair had made me laugh. So my Polaroid camera, which I stole from my uncle, made an appearance.

'This photo is gorgeous!' Penny had a tear in her eye, she quickly brushed it away. I focused on the photo, the memory of that morning making me smile, that's right, it made me smile. It made my entire face glow, and my heart beat a little faster.
'There's the smile I've been missing.' Penny grinned, pulling me into a hug.
'We are going to be okay Brooklyn Murphy.' The sincerity behind her eyes made me realise that maybe she was right.

The next day, I was out of bed. I still wasn't eating much or sleeping but I was suddenly feeling much better.
'Are you Sister Murphy?!' A voice sounded as I wondered through the Ward.
'That's me.' I said turning to the young man with blonde hair.
'I'm Jon Esposito, it's a pleasure to meet you.'
'And you, what have you done to yourself?' I asked.
'I tripped and ended up being impaled by a stick.' He blushed at the embarrassing injury.
'Don't worry, I'm constantly tripping over my  own feet.' I told him propping up his pillow.
'Listen I'm real sorry about Pat, he's a great bloke, they'll find him for sure.' Jon reassured.
'Well thank you for your concern but I think they have up all hope two weeks ago.' I stated sadly.
'No they haven't, what are you talking about?' Jon furrowed his eyebrows.
'The jungle is a big place Jon, they can't look forever.' I chuckled.
'Yes, they can and they are, he's just vanished, his not in a prisoner of war camp he's not in hospital, he has disappeared off the face of the earth, they look for all the blokes who end up like that, they find 60% of them too.' Jon exclaimed.
'I dunno Jon, it's a long shot.' I said.
'Don't give up hope Sister Murphy, have faith, for the rest of australia please don't give up.' Jon pleaded. I nodded at his passionate point, agreeing to keep the slither of hope that lingered in my mind.
'Sister Murphy?' An orderly called.
'Yes?' I stuttered.
'Please step outside.' He guided me out of the ward and into the Matron's office. I was seated in front of Matron's desk, in a chair that reminded me very much of the ones we had at the General store.
'Is it all okay?' I questioned.
'Brooklyn we have received some news on Patrick Carmondy.' Matron Cleary began. I swallowed hard and nodded, signalling for her to speak.
'They found his body about 2 kilometres away from their battalion.' She said, I stared blankly ahead in complete shock. Matron gripped my hand, 'He's gone Murphy, there's nothing we could do for him.' She explained. I chocked on the air I drew into my lungs.
'Are you absolutely certain?' I swallowed.
'We think so Brooklyn, we're pretty sure.' The orderly butted in.
I felt a tear escape my eye, my lip quivered and my teeth chattered uncontrollably.
'Matron please don't let it be true.' I begged, almost inaudibly.
'My deepest condolences Brooklyn.' She gave me a soft sympathetic smile.
'I better get back to work, nothing anyone can do now.' I rose to my feet, smoothing down my shirt and making my way to the door. I breathed in the faint smell of napalm and artillery smoke, I didn't know what to think or how to think. I couldn't see straight, I felt sick to the stomach.
Why wasn't I dead?
My body lurched forward as the nausea I felt splattered in the dirt. Tears trickled from my eyes, I wiped my mouth and started running, but I didn't get far. My body fell against the ground, ear shattering screams pierced the ears of passers by.
'Brooklyn, what the hell did they tell you?' Penny appeared, helping me sit up. I could hardly speak, everything I had was just thrown into the jungle, shot at and killed.
'HE'S DEAD! I KNEW IT! VIETNAM STOLE HIM!' I cried hysterically. Penny didn't know what to say, life was just slipping from my grasp.