Painful Goodbye

It was 30 minutes before his therapist finally broke the silence. "Eoghan, please say something. It worries me that you're not talking to me," she said gently, but he continued to stare at the wall. He was in no mood to talk today. So far, they'd just discussed his childhood, his grandfather's horses, his time in the army, but now she wanted him to talk about the ordeal. And he just wasn't ready yet. He didn't think he'd ever be ready.

She tried again to snap him out of his reverie. "Eoghan, please, you should talk to me. It'll make you feel better. Whatever you want to say about it, say it. Just get it off of your chest. Yell, scream, cry, do whatever you need to do to vent."

He glanced over at her. "I don't need to vent."

Her brow furrowed slightly and she narrowed her eyes at him. She didn't believe him. Of course not. But he didn't. Ever since he'd woken up in that hospital in Cairo, everything had been, not numb per se, but calm, blank, as if he had left all of his emotions back in Sudan. "It's true," he finally said, turning so he was directly facing her. "I feel fine. I don't need to vent. I don't feel angry, or sad, or whatever it is you think I'm feeling." He shrugged his shoulders, the epitome of relaxation and calm.

His therapist shifted in her seat and said in that calming voice all therapists seemed to have perfected, "Of course not, you're still in shock."

"After three months?" he asked skeptically.

"You haven't been able to talk about it with someone. Once you do, you'll feel a sudden rush of emotions, but it'll be okay. I'm here to help you through that," she explained.

He shook his head and started staring at the wall again. She sighed and shifted in her seat again. "Okay," she said firmly, finally taking control, "Let's start at the beginning. Tell me about Callum."

Eoghan continued to stare at the wall as he talked, not even so much as glancing over when she started jotting down notes. "He was my partner. We were part of a sniper team sent into Sudan to help with the civil war there." Eoghan knew full well that this was not what she wanted to hear; she already knew all of this. She wanted him to talk about Juba. But he didn't share that feeling. It brought back too many memories.

She tapped her pen against her notebook before finally saying, "It must have been hard, leaving him there."

Eoghan flinched as if she'd just slapped him in the face, but he remained silent, his mind swirling. She continued to speak, but Eoghan was no longer listening.

"Come on Cod, come on! They're right behind us!" Eoghan crashed through the jungle, sacrificing stealth for speed, banking on the fact that they could outrun their pursuers. But he'd forgotten about Cod.

Callum O'Donohue staggered through the thick foliage after him, gasping for breath and desperately trying to keep up. Eoghan slowed down a little to let him catch up, but he was eager to get moving. "Come on," he said again. "Let's go!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. I'm going as fast as I can," Callum replied, panting. He stopped for a second and rested his hands on his thighs, gulping in air.

Eoghan grabbed Callum's forearm and dragged him forward a few more feet. "We can't stop, Cod. Come on!"

Callum shook his head. "I–I can't," he said. "I can't go on."

The sound of yelling could be heard in the distance, and the beams of searchlights bobbed and weaved through the dense jungle. Eoghan tugged on his arm again. "Of course you can," he insisted. "Now come on!" But Callum had half-collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, still shaking his head.

Eoghan huffed out an exasperated breath and crouched down next to him. He could hear the sound of footsteps pounding across the jungle floor. They were getting closer. He whispered, "Cod, I'm not going to leave you here."

His friend just shook his head and whispered back, "You'll have to if you want to get out of here alive."

"And what, let you die?" Eoghan couldn't believe what Cod was asking him to do. How could he leave his best friend behind just to save his own skin? He shook his head. "No," he said, "I can't do that." He placed his hand on Callum's shoulder, but Callum shrugged it off.

"Go. Please Eoghan, I'm telling you right now: Save your own sorry skin. Don't worry about me." He tried for a reassuring smile, but it came out as an awkward grimace.

Eoghan gripped his shoulder harder this time, and stated very slowly, "Callum Garbhán O'Donohue, I am not leaving you here."

Callum tried to shrug Eoghan's hand off again, to no avail. "Let go of my shoulder," he demanded, still trying to wriggle out of Eoghan's grip.

"No."

"Eoghan," he warned, "If you don't let me go, I'll–I'll shoot off your hand."

Eoghan raised an eyebrow and said, "With what gun?" He shook his head again. "No, I refuse to let you go Cod."

Callum, keenly aware of the approaching soldiers tramping through the jungle, shoved Eoghan. "Go!" he yelled. "Save yourself!"

"Cod–" Eoghan started to speak, but before he could finish, Callum had rushed off in the opposite direction, stumbling over exposed tree roots. Eoghan swore under his breath and hissed, "Get back here right now, Cod!" But his words were either ignored or couldn't be heard. He swore again, unsure if he should rush after his idiotic friend or do what he was told.

Suddenly, shouts rose in the distance. Callum had been spotted. Eoghan quickly dropped to the ground as shots rang out into humid jungle night. He froze. Please, please let Callum not have gotten shot. Please. He wanted to wait for him, but just couldn't risk it. He had to keep moving. With a heavy heart and a nagging conscious, Eoghan slowly low crawled away.

"Eoghan? Are you still with me?"

Eoghan blinked as he came back to reality, the painful memory still lingering in the back of his mind. His therapist sighed and shut her notebook. "Alright," she said, "Let's end the session for today." Fine by me, he thought.