I tucked her up in my own bed, leaving the lamp on, and furnishing her bruised arms with a tattered teddy bear for comfort. Her little eyelids fluttered sleepily before she dropped off, and she uttered a contented sigh. She was handling all this better than I was. The nagging thought that it was I who had done this to her, kept nipping away at me, well into the night as I made up a haphazard bed on the sofa.
The following morning, I had to explain to her, Maya, that I had to go to work, to buy her food, and new clothes - which perked her up no end - but that she had to be as quiet as possible in the house, with the curtains drawn. I warned her to only flush the toilet if necessary, to have the TV on low. I prepared her various assortments of sandwiches, cut into delicate triangles, like the ones my own Mother had once prepared for me on sick days, for her to help herself to. She didn't question these rules, but merely nodded with surprising maturity. Just before I was about to leave, she placed her small hand, still swathed in bandages, on my arm.
'What is it?' I asked softly.
'I wanted to know - what do you do? My old Daddy was a teacher.'
'Oh. Oh! I, I'm a pilot. I fly things in planes.'
'Do you fly people?' Her eyes shone with that untarnished excitement only the young possess.
'Oh, no, not usually! I mostly fly things to people, things that people need, like food and medicines.'
'Wow. Why did you want to do that?'
'Why? Well, because...' I decided to commit to giving her this one truth; 'because flying is like... being a bird. And when you're a bird, you're free. You can fly wherever you want.'
'A bird? Why do you want to be like that?'
'Because birds give me hope.'
'Hope? Like, happiness because good stuff can happen?'
'Yes. Exactly like that.'
Work unnerved me. I had looks of approval thrown at me from each angle, from even the most surly staff. Clearly they were all too aware of the nature of the project I shared with Mathers. And they respected it. Bile rose up in my throat. The Commander called me in at lunch, for a 'chat.' He gave me the broadest smile I'd ever seen in my entire career, and patted me on the back in a congratulatory fashion. Every fibre of my body recoiled from his touch.
'Why aren't you congratulating Mathers, it was equally down to him?' I said, forcing my cheeks into a sickly grin.
'Oh, I have already offered him my sincere appraisal, Jones. Anyway, he requested the afternoon off, and how could I deny him, following the success of your trip?' Something jarred in my stomach.
'W-when exactly did he ask for the time off?' I tried to prevent my voice from trembling. It defied me.
'This morning. All a bit last minute, not the usual protocol, I know... but as I said, after the achievement...'
'Did he say, why?'
'Oh, well, Jones, I'm unaware of what possible implication it could have on you, but I do believe he was having trouble with some molars. A visit to the dentist was in order I do believe.'
'Yeah, you believe,' I muttered under my breath. I shot the Commander a smile, not caring about the quality of my facade, made my excuses and ran to my car, not even stopping to empty my locker.
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