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With a broad yawn that threatened to crack his jaws, Benny reached up for the straps above his bed. His legs moved a little, just enough to start a fire in his spine. Sweat gathered on his face, but he moved them a little more. A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest. He tried harder.
A cry of pain hissed from him. Benny collapsed on the bed and took a quick look around to see if anyone heard him. Face scorched with embarrassment, he shuddered. These were men in here and he wanted to be a man. Silent and rocking by the torture of his spine, he hoped no one heard.
Slowly, it drifted away.
Relieved, he eased up and took the straps again, this time to raise himself up and into the chair by his bed.
No chair.
"Damn," he grumbled to Sam, "Where is that thing? I gotta go so bad I can taste salt, y'know?" He looked for bedpan.
"Denken, ich bien," Sam said, his face grave but his eyes twinkling, "Thinking, I am, that those are for you." He nodded at a pair of crutches. "The Granite Harpy, she says you are to use them."
"Sticks?" Benny laughed in scorn. "What the frik am I supposed to use them for? Rub them together like a good li'l Boy Scout and start fires? She-it."
"For your legs. They need the exercise. I see you trying. These will help."
Boyde hurried in. A finger across her lips she glared at Benny.
"Shut your mouth, boy." She hissed at his look. "They're for you. Maybe they'll help you keep your dirty little hands off of my girls."
Benny started cursing her, growing louder and more sullen when she only grinned. Snatching his pillow from beneath his head, she let him know that in no uncertain terms she'd use it,
"Cool it, you little rat. You wake these men in here and I'll lay you across my lap and beat some sense in you where it'll do the most good."
A man shouted, "You tell him, beautiful."
Another laughing voice yelled, "What lap? I got one. Come on over here, Sugar."
Boyde glared them into silence. She bared her teeth at Benny's sullen glare.
"Understand me? You can lay there and let your wing-wang rot off for all I care. I am not going to allow anyone, not a single soul- Listen to me, boy! To come anywhere near you. Never." She looked like she was going to spit on him. "You won't eat, use a bed pan. Nothing. N.O.T.H.I.N.G., baby, until you can do for yourself. We tried, we gave until we bled, and all for you. And what do you do? Huh." she wagged her head. "Mister, I got over a hundred men in the ward alone. Every one of them fighters who got nailed in combat. I ain't got time, boy, for them, let alone some snot-nosed little mama's brat who shafted himself. Got it? I got men to worry about. I got no time for you."
With that, she sailed out, oblivious to the cheers of the men and Benny's curses alike. She burst into song.
"Oh, he'll be madder than a hatter, when he busts his ol' bladder. We'll all be flooded out to sea, when ol' Grey decides to peeeee!"
The crutches sailed out after her. Boyde never broke stride. At the door, she halted and spun in a delicate pirouette.
"Mister Grey, if you touch another of my nurses, I will report you to Hard-Ass Myers. Have a real nice day, Mr. Grey." Laughing, she almost danced around the corner, sailing passed Myers.
Seeing a pleasant grin on Boyde's face, Myers snarled at her and lay a finger on snuff-stained lips.
"Hush."
Boyde nodded and hurried on.
"You're certain he's on base, Lieutenant?"
"Quite, Ms VanTur."
Her mind spinning, she nodded, a hand clasped over her racing heart.
Her informant smiled. Believing it was because of him, he finished buttoning his clothes.
The marine leaned over to kiss her. Cindy moved away.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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