Learning To Walk - A Soldier's Story by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 29

The morning light screamed into my mind as the loud click of a switch illuminated the hallway. I awoke to find myself curled up in a corner, my skin running with thin ribbons of sweat. I had spent the night clutching Gloria's letter. Opening my eyes to the glare of a world I had come to know too well, I got to my feet and rushed to the barred window.

"Where is she?!" I screamed.

I pulled my face to the bars with enough force to split my bottom lip.

"Where did she go?!"

The guard quickly approached the door of my cell. "Private, what is it?" he asked with urgency.

"Did you see her?" I replied. "She was here last night!" I knew she had been there. I had touched her skin, tasted her mouth and felt the onslaught of her passionate release. Her presence had been more real to me than anything else. "Private," the guard began. "There wasn't anyone here last night. It was just a dream. Now, relax. I'm going to go get some help, okay?"

The guard vanished down the hallway. It couldn't have been a dream. Dreams are only a vague reflection of what's real, a nocturnal picture book of sorts and I refused to believe that the fire that had burned between us had simply been the product of a weary mind.

My hands continued to grasp the bars as the images of that night faded into transparency. Gloria could not have left because she hadn't been there, to begin with. I flew into an emotional outpouring as my body slid down to the floor. The guards found me curled up in a corner, my lip dripping blood on the floor just in front of my knees. I had become paralyzed with hysteria and was quickly taken to the infirmary where a medic injected me with a light sedative. Later, the doctor stitched up the tear in my lip and after a much-needed, albeit, drug-induced sleep, I was led back to my cell. My lip was swollen and throbbing; my brain still numbed by the sedative. I spent most of the morning curled up on my cot. I picked at my lunch soon after it arrived. The last thing on my mind was eating, but at that point, the oblivion of sedation was far more preferable. Now, I understood why some people become addicts. Sometimes, pain can be so great that the only thing that can blot it out is drugs.

After shaking off the remaining effects of the sedative, I was led outside. For thirty minutes out of each day, everyone was allowed outside into the recreation area. It was a large, fenced in square of asphalt lined with basketball hoops and a few picnic tables. Regulations made it mandatory that all inmates spend thirty minutes outdoors. Illness was the only exception. Once outside, I felt the warmth of the sun as it floated in a clear blue sky, its harsh light exploding into my slightly hazy mind. Raising a hand, I shielded my eyes from its blinding intensity while searching for a shaded place. I would rather have been left alone in my cell, but I needed the temporary relief from its claustrophobic tension while getting some badly needed air. Every day, I sat on the same patch of grass, letting my fingers move across its fine, green blades. I took great comfort in that sensation as it helped me to feel somewhat grounded, knowing there was something of the real world that I could reach out to, if only for thirty minutes a day. The sun beat down on my face as I gazed up into a blue, cloudless sky. Now, it suddenly occurred to me that we all see it, but we never really look at it.

Like so much else in the world, we take for granted the things that are the most deeply connected to us. We just don't think about things like the sky. It washes over us like a temperamental sea, sometimes filled with the turmoil of odd, sullen shapes. It is literally the air we breathe. We are one of the universes smallest creatures, barely aware of our true standing in the broader picture that nature has painted and constantly given the opportunity to experience so much, and yet, we choose to see so little. I realized this while sitting on that patch of grass, set behind a military prison - a place that had become my home. Enlightenment can come at a very high price.