The Walking Wounded - Cover

The Walking Wounded

Copyright© 2012 by Robert McKay

Chapter 16

Wednesday came, and you couldn't have kept Kevin away from church with guns. He was ready two hours before the time, and actually found himself pacing the floor. I don't do that kind o' stuff! he thought. Maybe he didn't, but he was doing it, it seemed. I ain't been this excited since ... since ... shoot, I don't know since. Not having any sort of decent childhood had stolen from him the comparisons that other adults might have been able to dredge up – the first time going to the amusement park, the first time kissing a girl, the first time getting an A in class, the first time going fishing with dad or shopping with mom. I ever have a kid, Kevin vowed, I'm gonna raise 'im better'n that.

Eventually it was time to go, and he went, zipping up his leather jacket and tugging on his gloves. It definitely got colder in Albuquerque than it did in Fresno, and even when there was no snow on the ground, the New Mexico altitude put a wicked bite in the wind.

Going in the door of the church building was like walking into a wall of warmth, a wall that softly embraced him. Karin was leaning against a pew again – this time against the end – talking to Susan Emmerich. Hey, I remembered her name! Kevin walked up and put his hand on Karin's shoulder – the boldest he'd ever dared to be – and she wrapped her arm around his waist. With this encouragement he reached across her shoulders, and with one arm gave her a hug.

Susan's eyebrows were as high as they could go. "Have you been holding out on me, Karin?" she asked.

"Not holding out, Suze – not exactly, anyway. This is just since Sunday, and I wanted to tell you in person."

"We've been talking for five minutes, Karin Seguín, and you didn't say a word!"

"Okay, okay, so I guess I didn't know how to tell you."

"Well, Kevin took care of that. How are you, Kevin?"

He grinned at Karin. "The best I've ever been."

Susan laughed. "You look it. You'll never be pretty, I don't think, but you look positively civilized. And Karin looks deliriously happy. That I approve of." Then she lost the bantering tone and lowered her voice. "But a word of warning, if I might. Kevin, if you hurt my friend..."

"Susan!" Karin's voice was shocked. "I don't need you to defend me from Kevin!"

Susan's face was a study in emotional conflict. Finally love for her friend won the contest. "Okay, Karin. I won't go any further. And Kevin, I do approve of this – it's made Karin happier than she's been in a long time."

Kevin's reply was serious. "Susan, I promise I won't do anything to hurt Karin. I ... I like her very much, an' I think if anyone tried to hurt her I'd prob'ly hurt him."

"Okay, Kevin, I understand." And the expression on her face as she turned to greet someone made it clear that what she thought she understood was more than just Kevin's determination to never hurt Karin. She thinks I'm in love too, he thought. And that was a sobering thing to have run through his mind.

"So, Kevin," Karin said, reaching up to take hold of Kevin's hand where his arm still draped across her shoulders, "how's life been treating you?"

"Good as ever, I guess. But at work they're pickin' on me. I guess I'm gettin' happy."

"I've known you for such a short while, Kev, that I can't be sure – but you do seem happier than you were when we first met."

"I guess I am. You know, Kar, I'm still gettin' used to bein' your boyfriend – but I think I could get used to it real easy. Although sayin' you're my girlfriend sounds like kiddy stuff."

Karin laughed. "I'm getting used to being your girlfriend. And I like the innocence of the words we're using. We could say we're going steady, or we're in a relationship, or we're involved, but by putting it in terms of boyfriend and girlfriend we're giving it something fresh. I feel more like a young lady than I have in years."

Kevin watched her face. He loved the dimples, but it was more than that. It wasn't just the brilliant eye shadow, a dark shade of purple tonight; it wasn't just the way the blonde hair framed her face and fell in two separating wings over her forehead; it wasn't just the little lines at the corners of her eyes that crinkled up when she smiled or laughed. There was something more to it. "You're alive, I guess," he said almost to himself.

"Of course I'm alive, Kevin. Or do you mean something else?" Her fingers rubbed gently on his hand.

"I was thinkin' 'bout your face. You're pretty, but it's more than that. I look at other women's faces, even beautiful women, and it's just a face. There's nothin' there, nothin' behind the skin. You're more than just your face. It's, I don't know, I guess it's that there's a real live person behind your face."

"I suppose you mean that my face reflects my character, my personality."

"Maybe. I dunno. I don't know the words, Kar. Before this is all over, however it winds up, you really gotta teach me English. I'm gettin' to where I can't say half o' what I wanna say 'cause I ain't got the right words ... don't got? ... don't have the right words."

"You're doing well, Kevin – you're learning to catch your errors. The next step will be to say things correctly, without errors. But learning vocabulary may be harder for you. I don't suppose you have a dictionary?"

"No. I ain't got – don't have – hardly any books at all besides bike repair manuals."

"I'll tell you what," Karin said, and she hurried because the piano was beginning to play, "I'll get you a dictionary – and a thesaurus too. They'll be gifts from me to you, and once you get used to them they'll be very helpful."

Kevin thought about protesting, and then changed his mind. "That'd be boss, Kar." And with his arm still around her shoulders he walked with her to a pew.


Kevin could have sworn at how long it took for Friday night to come – and then when it did, he wasn't sure he was happy about it. His stomach churned, and his palms were sweaty, and he couldn't sit still. Finally it was time, and he could bound down the stairs and hop on his bike. For once he wanted to break every speed limit in the country, but he held it down to what was legal, and pulled up in front of Karin's house a little before 6. As he put down the kickstand he saw the curtain move in the living room window, and knew that she'd heard the bike. It was hard not to hear it, with that rumble that shook the ground.

Karin met him at the door with a kiss, and had him wait a few minutes while she finished getting ready.

"Far as I can tell, Kar, you're ready already."

"Kevin, I'm not finished with my face yet!"

"I can't see nothin' different from any other time, 'cept the eye shadow. I like that 'lectric blue."

"Maybe you can't see it, Kev, but I am not ready. I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Okay, you say so, babe."

He watched her go down the hall to what had to be the bathroom and bedroom. He shook his head. She sure looked ready to him. She was wearing a dress that left her arms bare – the first time he'd seen her that way – and came down to just below her knees. Nice arms, he thought. Not so soft as I'd been thinkin'. The fabric of the dress was white, with red flowers on it – he didn't know what kind, having never paid any attention to that kind of thing. Her shoes had moderately high heels, but not the stilettos that many women wore. They were white as well, and he thought he'd seen bows on them. Her hair was in a French braid and fell to just between her shoulder blades, the braid swaying slightly as she walked.

Man! he thought. That is one stone fox. And then he mentally shook himself. Kev, you ain't goin' around grabbin' broads no more ... anymore. You're a Christian, an' it don't matter how pretty she is – you treat Karin like a lady. But he wasn't sure how to do that. Lessee, I guess I hold the door for her, an' o' course I don't go gropin' her or nothin' ... not that I groped anybody since I been a Christian. I lost the desire for that, though if it was gonna come back it'd be with Karin. I can say please an' thank you, an' ... an' ... an' I don't know what else. It was frustrating. He knew Karin was a lady – knew it more than ever now that he'd met her parents – and he was a big dumb biker who didn't know anything but Harleys and leather and drugs and booze.

The source of this story is Finestories

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close