Free Riverboat Point by Tricia Stringer Page B

it worked out for his brother.
    â€œWe’d better keep going,” he said.
    They both climbed back on the bike and Ethan drove along the track. Finally they passed the assorted sheds and he rolled to a stop at the house gate. Blake disentangled himself from the bike and leaned on the fence as he took off his helmet. Ethan unhooked the backpack.
    â€œWant to come in for some lunch?” Blake asked. His face was grey now.
    â€œSure.” Ethan wasn’t hungry but any excuse to help get his obstinate brother settled was worth following up.
    They went slowly up the path. Pookie appeared and began to weave between Blake’s legs.
    â€œHello, buddy. Have you missed me?”
    He bent to pat the cat and lurched forward.
    Ethan grabbed his good arm.
    â€œWhoa,” he said. “How about we get you inside?”
    Blake allowed him to take his weight.
    â€œBoots,” Blake said.
    Ethan lowered his brother onto the chair near the door and helped him get his boots off then removed his own. The chair was a new addition, as was removing boots. After Lucy left Blake had never bothered.
    Once more Ethan took Blake’s arm and they squeezed through the back door and into the kitchen. Ethan pulled out a chair from the table and watched as Blake lowered himself onto it. The bike journey had taken its toll.
    â€œThere should be some baked beans in the cupboard,” Blake rasped.
    Ethan went to the pantry cupboard. He tugged open the door.
    Blake let out a low whistle. At the same time Ethan caught a glimpse of something toppling towards him. He threw himself sideways, covered his head and crouched against the wall. There was a thud as something fell on the floor beside him. Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest. The memory of his first vehicle recovery mission in Afghanistan engulfed him. It was as if he was there. He smelt the stench of burnt flesh.
    â€œHey, bro. It’s only a tin of fruit. It didn’t hit you, did it?”
    Blake’s voice came to him as though along a tunnel.
    Ethan sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. He willed his hands to drop to his sides. As he reached for the tin he could see the tremor in his hand.
    â€œEthan?” Blake’s voice was loud this time, urgent.
    â€œI’m okay,” Ethan said.
    He straightened up, put the tin of fruit back in the cupboard and took out a tin of baked beans. Damn it, where had that reaction come from? It was a long time since he’d had one of those flashbacks. During his last deployment he’d had to recover several vehicles outside the wire. Even though there were Grunts providing security, it was not always enough to deflect an object. Sometimes it was just a rock thrown by kids, but it could also be some kind of homemade explosive.
    He got busy heating the beans and making toast with bread he dug out of the freezer. Gradually his heart rate returned to normal and his hands regained their strength. Blake didn’t say anything more to him, instead he made a fuss of Pookie who was happily purring in his lap.
    Once the food was on the table, Ethan sat down. He cut Blake’s toast into manageable bites for a one-handed man and watched as he began to eat. Ethan had no appetite for the bright orange beans in their sloppy sauce.
    â€œAren’t you going to eat?” Blake said through a mouthful.
    Ethan put a piece of soggy toast in his mouth and chewed it round and round. He had been hungry half an hour ago. This past week hadn’t been a good one. He’d had trouble sleeping and bad dreams when he did. This episode was the first waking one he’d had in a while.
    â€œYou still having those flashbacks?” Blake’s question pierced the silence between them.
    Blake was a good mate but he hadn’t been there. The thing was too hard to explain. Ethan would rather forget that part of his life and start a new one. His time in the army was over. He’d spent some time before his discharge