NEITHER MONSTER NOR SAINT

Like the cat who romanced the skunk and enjoyed himself as much as he could stomach, Major Richard Blaine has lost his temper and told off the First Lady in front of President Roosevelt.

NEITHER MONSTER NOR SAINT

“Success is not measured by what you accomplish, but by the opposition you have encountered, and the courage with which you have maintained the struggle against overwhelming odds.”

– Helen Keller

 

“That, Major, was my wife!”

“I understand, but you were young when you proposed. No one sees clearly when infatuated.”

Missy shot to her feet. “That, sir, was impertinent!”

I turned to the President, putting back on my Spartan Helmet.

“I would apologize, but that would be a lie, sir. Yet, I do regret that I have been aghast in your house.”

The Major General growled, “Being witty will not buy you anything now.”

“I expect you will want me to leave now without hearing my request.”

Dorothy, the stern judge’s even more stern wife, snorted, “You, sir, have the gall of …”

“De Gaulle?” I quipped. “Another guest with more arrogance than manners.”

“Not funny,” sighed Louise.

‘Sentient, let me heal Missy. I see with the eyes you’ve given me that she is close to death.’

‘Oh, certainly, why not? You have bungled this so badly, why shouldn’t I reward you?’

I decided to gamble and walked to Missy, who put out her palm. “You stay away from me!”

“If I did, I couldn’t do this.”

I reached out and lightly touched her forehead with the bandaged fingertips of my left hand. I sagged. I suddenly felt like a rag doll with all its sawdust leaking out of it.

“Wh-What have you done to me?” she gasped.

I blinked my blurring eyes. Her face appeared twenty years younger than just moments before. Her hair glowed, it was so dark and lustrous.

“You were close to the death you’ve had the doctors keep from everyone. One last gift before I ….”

The strength left me. My knees buckled. Sentient hated when I forced her hand and always made me pay somehow.

I should have expected something like this.

I leaned against the white marble wall and slid down it. Suddenly, my left arm felt terrible.

“My god, he’s bleeding!” cried Louise.

“You won’t get any sympathy from us!” snapped the Major General.

Fala scurried to my side. I smiled weakly at him.

“Fala, old chum, there are three kinds of intelligence: the intelligence of man, the intelligence of dogs, and much, much lower: military intelligence.”

 I patted his black head with a trembling hand. “In that order.”

Missy raced to my side, kneeling and crying. “One minute, you are a monster. The next, a saint. Which are you?”

I smiled, “Neither … maybe both.”

Roosevelt shot to his feet and without thinking walked stiff-legged  to my side. Then, he froze, realizing what he had done.

“I’m … I’m walking. Walking!”

He collapsed beside me. “How? Why?”

“America … needed you to be there to shepherd it from war to peace, much as it did with Lincoln and Wilson but never got it.”

‘Besides, his mate would have enjoyed playing the noble widow much too much for me to allow it.’

Curtis arched an eyebrow. “I saw it on your face. You just thought something nasty about Grandmother, did you not?”

“ I don’t lie to Spartans … so I think I will just ask for a glass ….”

“Of whiskey?” frowned Roosevelt.

I shook my head. “I get into enough trouble sober, sir.”

Louise snorted, “We’ve noticed.”

“I was just hoping for a sip of Ginger Ale, if you have it.”

Harry Hopkins raced to the bar and came back with a full glass.

“Hardly seems equitable. You heal me of cancer, and I give you a glass of ginger ale.”

“D-Didn’t do it for reward, sir.”

Missy asked me, “Then, why?”

“Because I could, when in New Orleans I so often could do nothing.”

Roosevelt fixed me with a hard stare. “Will I still be able to walk?”

I nodded. “In a few months, even dance again. I heard you were a fine dancer.”

He looked off in the distance with such a forlorn look, it unsettled me.

“Dance,” he muttered. “Dance.”

He frowned at me. “Why didn’t you tell us you were wounded?”

Sentient, for the first time in a long while, took control of my mouth.

“Didn’t realize it at first. This blasted uniform is supposed to be bullet-proof.”

Harry sputtered, “Bullet proof? Where did you get it?”

“Where I got my artificial hands. That will teach me to trust something I get from a future where the Nazis won.”

I suddenly realized that the glass of ginger ale was empty without me knowing I had been drinking.

My mouth was suddenly mine again.

‘Hey, Sentient, you did better this time.”

‘I have observed you in action longer.’

I weakly set the glass down. 

“That tasted good. Never had it before. Come to think of it, I haven’t had a steak either. Does it taste as good as everyone says?”

The President pounded me on the right shoulder. 

"You’ll find out for yourself. I will have the kitchen prepare it now.”

I shook my head. 

“I have to get back to my Spartans. It wouldn’t be right for me to eat steak when they are hungry in that dark tunnel within those cliffs.”

He fixed me with that eagle stare of his. “What was that request you brought up earlier?”

“Have you heard of Merrill’s Marauders?”

“I believe so.”

“They are a deep pene….”

I looked at the women all around me and could feel the blush burning my cheeks.

The President laughed that booming laugh of his.

“You have no problem in offending my wife, but you blush at perhaps making a remark in front of these ladies that could be misconstrued and offend them. You amaze me, lad.”

He shook his head. 

“Yes, son. I can see your thinking on this. I will contact General Marshall and have him commission your Spartan 300 as ….”

He smiled wide at the assembled ladies, 

“A deep penetration unit for Overlord. Heaven knows the Nazis deserve to be f….”

Missy exclaimed, “Sir!”

He chuckled like a happy wolf. “Harry, help me up and let me see if I can walk behind my desk.”

I held my breath. But though he walked a bit wobbly, he made it back to his desk as the Major General glared at me.

I got up just as wobbly. “I have to get back to my Spartans, sir.”

Curtis ran up to me, wrapping his arms around me. “Do you have to go?”

I started to tousle his hair, then remembered how it made young men feel as if they were thought of as boys still.

“The mule is still alive, so, flog him another mile. I have monsters to slay and maidens to save.”

Sentient had me fade from sight. 

But I could still them though they, too, were fading from before my eyes.

I saw Curtis stumble without my body to support him. He looked around for me, his face falling.

He looked towards Missy. “W-Will he come back?”

The President said, 

“There are heroes, Curtis, then, there are legends. Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.”