visitors. He’d love to
see you.”
“I’l try,” said Timothy, even though he was
“I’l try,” said Timothy, even though he was
frightened by what Stuart might have to say.
As Mrs. Chen pul ed away from the curb,
Timothy heard the phone ringing inside his
house. Maybe it was his mom, cal ing from the
airport? Since his dad had already gone to
work, Timothy pul ed out his keys, opened the
door, and lifted the receiver.
“Hel o?” he said.
The connection was bad. Static hissed as he
waited for a response.
“Timothy?” The familiar voice on the other
end was soft, ragged, as if it hadn’t been used in
a very long time. The room spun. Timothy
reached out for the wal . He wondered if this
wasn’t some terrible trick. It had to be. There
was no way he could possibly be on the phone
with his brother.
“Yeah?”
“Oh my God, dude,” said the voice. “Don’t
sound so excited to hear me.”
“B-Ben?” Timothy stammered. “Is that you?”
“B-Ben?” Timothy stammered. “Is that you?”
“Sure, it’s me.” Ben laughed. But then the
laugh turned into a cough, which went on for a
long time. “Hold on … Water.” A few seconds
later, he added, “Sorry about that. Not been
feeling too good lately.”
Despite feeling ba ed, Timothy smiled, but
soon he felt tears coming. He didn’t even
bother ghting them. “Ben, are you okay?
Where are you?”
“Some hospital. They tel me I’ve been asleep
for a while?”
“You could say that,” said Timothy. “How
long have you been awake?”
“In and out for the past twelve hours, I think.
Everything’s a blur.”
“Mom’s ying down. She should be there
soon.”
“That’s what my doctors told me. But I real y
wanted to talk with someone I know … and
love. My family. Dad must be on his way to
work, but I thought I’d catch you before school.
God, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
God, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
Questions ooded Timothy’s brain. Not only
about the at ack. He wanted to ask his big
brother’s advice about nding order in chaos.
The light in the darkness. Even though it sort of
felt sel sh, now might be his only chance for a
while. If you were in my situation … “Are you
in pain?” Timothy said instead.
Ben groaned. “They got me doped up pret y
good. At ached to al sorts of tubes.”
“What do you remember?”
“Not much since before deployment. Weird.
Most everything else is a big blank page. They
say it’s going to take a long time to recover.
Obviously an understatement. It’s like there’s a
huge chunk of my life missing.”
Missing. The word made Timothy cringe. “I
miss you,” he said.
“I was dreaming about you, lit le brother.”
“You were?”
Ben chuckled again. Or coughed. Timothy
couldn’t tel which. “It was a nightmare. Real y
couldn’t tel which. “It was a nightmare. Real y
scary.”
“What was it about?”
“I was walking down a desert road,” said
Ben, struggling. “Sand everywhere. You were
there. Strange thing was, you were holding a
grenade and smiling in a real y weird way.
Your smile just kept growing and growing until
your mouth was bigger than your face.”
A horrible image. Timothy blinked it away.
“That is weird,” he said.
Ben went on. “Then you held the grenade out
to me. You wanted me to take it. And right
before I did, I realized that you’d already
pul ed the pin.” Timothy felt his face ush. He
felt dizzy now. Then, with his voice crackling,
Ben added, “It’s your fault this happened to me.
It’s your fault I’m dead.”
Timothy tried to speak but couldn’t.
Silence hissed from the other end of the line;
then Ben began to laugh. The laughter turned
harsh, sinking into a deep pitch as it grew
louder and louder. It was no longer Ben’s voice.
louder and louder. It was no longer Ben’s voice.
And it was no longer only in the phone. The
laughter surrounded him,
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