He shakes it off, “Oh. I don’t think that was a full episode.” But then he cocks his head, like he’s debating himself. “Maybe it was? They’re not usually like that. But maybe that was a version I haven’t experienced before. I don’t know.”
I want desperately to talk about this in depth, about today, but he cuts me off and steers my attention elsewhere.
“If you don’t want to be my roommate after knowing this, I won’t hold it against you.”
“What? What kind of piece of shit friend would I be if I did that?”
He gives me a tentative smile. “You could never be one.”
“Can you talk to me about it?”
“What do you wanna know?”
“Is there something you remember that could have caused it?”
He turns his body in to face me head on. “It’s more like a culmination of events. Like, there was this one time during my first deployment, some Afghani citizens drove into our military gate. I heard all this commotion so I looked out and saw everything. The ROE told them to fire off warning shots, but the vehicle kept coming. So they were ordered to light ‘em up. One round hit the driver in the face, killing him… beheading him, really. And the same round hit another passenger in the chest behind the driver, killing him, too.”
I’m utterly frozen listening to Marco speak. With everything we’ve talked about over the years, all the deep conversations we’ve had, he’s never talked about shit like this.
“The two other passengers bailed from the vehicle and jumped to the ground with their hands over their heads. They were taken into custody and after using an interpreter, we found out they were farmers, and their youngest kids were taken by extremists. None of them knew how to read the Do Not Enter signs posted around us and didn’t understand what the warning shots meant. They were just looking for help.”
“Oh my god. And that was in your first year?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think being a mechanic would put me in situations like that.”
My brows lower. “There were more situations like that?”
“Yeah. Fuck, the deployment after we met, we were in a caravan of vehicles that were all headed to one of my facilities for scheduled maintenance. We were ambushed and our convoy was blown up. I somehow made it out alive, but a lot of my brothers didn’t.”
I can’t help but think about all those sleepless nights I stayed up worried about him. All those long periods of time I didn’t hear a single word and thought the worst happened to him. Turns out, I wasn’t that far off. I was right to be worried.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Marco gives me a sad smile. “If we’re going to live together, is there something I can do to help when you have an episode?”
Scratching his jaw, he thinks for a moment. “Well, hopefully you’ll never have to see one, but, if you do… just ask me to breathe and remind me where I am.”
“I can do that,” I nod, and make a mental note to research the hell out of this tomorrow.
Marco clears his throat. “I think being a massage therapist is the right move. I need the opposite of what I am in the Army. I need peace. I want to make people feel good… not scared.”
“Then I think this is perfect for you. If I know anything about you, Marco, it’s thatyouare a caretaker. You want people to feel better. Safer.”
Staring off at nothing, he shakes his head. “My dad always made me feel like I was less than, or weak, because I liked to take care of things. Plants. My sister. Stray neighborhood dogs. Said I needed to man up,” he huffs a humorless laugh. “As if he was any kind of example. The fucker.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I default to optimism. “Well hey, the good news is: my dad loves you like a son. You can borrow him if you need some true, fatherly advice.”
His blue eyes find mine and he gives me a sad smile. “I don’t even know how a healthy father-son relationship works.”
“You will. Stick around and Bill Bishop will infiltrate your life whether you want him to or not.”
He puts his hand on my good shoulder. “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Thanks for listening, man.”
“Anytime. So when’s this massage therapist certification program start? Am I going to be your guinea pig?”
He chuckles. “If you’re okay with that.”
Like I could deny him anything. I can’t even say no to myself when he’s involved, as much as it tortures me. So I lie. “Of course I am.”
Chapter 28
