LUCID Nightmare

  ***

  Claire took the afternoon off to take Clay home from the hospital. He spent a lot of time deep in thought about the challenges that lay ahead. He desperately wanted to confide in Claire about his experience on the Brampton Estates, but he feared losing her respect.

  “Mr. Thompson, your ride has arrived. She’s in the waiting room. Shall I send her in?”

  Clay was relieved. He counted down the minutes until his discharge from the hospital.

  “Hi, Clay. How’s my man this morning? I brought something for you.”

  Claire placed an overnight bag on Clay’s bed and stole a kiss.

  “You came here covered up in a bedsheet, so I decided to go home and get you some clothes to wear home.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart. I’m so sorry that you had to endure this drama. I know it must have tough. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you being there for me.”

  Claire also came bearing gifts. “Clay, while I was at your house I signed for a recorded delivery letter. It’s from the Department of Veterans Affairs.”

  Clay suspected it might be his determination of eligibility, if any, to disability. He asked Claire to open it.

  Claire read the pertinent information aloud.

  Dear Mr. Thompson,

  Per the findings and recommendation of Dr. Kaspersky, the VA has awarded you the maximum VA rating for your claims based on the occupational and social impairment. Your rating is assessed at 60 percent, which entitles you to concurrent payment in addition to your military retirement. Your compensation has been backdated to the date of filing on November 16, 2015. Please see the enclosed check.

  “Well, how much is it, sweetheart?” Clay asked.

  Claire’s lips parted and her eyes lit up with the check in her hand.

  “Clay, this is the answer you’ve been praying for. Here, you look at it.”

  “Wow! Thirty-five grand. Looks like I’ll be able to keep my house! Thank you, Lord! Let’s get out of this place. We have some celebrating to do. And some earrings to buy,” Clay exclaimed.

  Clay hugged Claire and leaped out of bed to get dressed. He was more than ready to start fresh. After being let down with a twenty-grand check he could not cash, this was redemption.

  Just before Clay signed his discharge papers, Doctor Kendrick paged him.

  Clay was annoyed at having to backtrack and meet with his doctor. Claire waited in the lobby.

  “Mr. Thompson, please take a seat.”

  “Uh-oh. This doesn’t sound good. I thought you said it was a panic attack and that I just needed to take it easy. I can do that,” Clay assured.

  “I’d like you to stay for a few more hours so I can run some tests.”

  Clay was defiant. “A few more hours? It was just stress, that’s all.”

  The doctor shook his head. He had another concern. “Mr. Thompson, please lift up your shirt.”

  Clay obliged.

  The doctor pointed to an area on the right side of Clay’s lower back. “Right there. You can’t see it without a mirror, but there is a nasty lesion that has just started to manifest. It’s already starting to weep. We need to do a biopsy to make sure it’s nothing sinister. We should know something by the end of the week.”

  Clay’s celebratory mood faded quickly. He was fully aware there were forces greater than himself at work. He felt compelled to break the news to Claire, but he was conflicted.

  Clay showed Claire the lesion in private. She was shocked at its nasty appearance and rapid progression in such a short time. Claire was distraught and slightly hysterical.

  “Clay, what is going on with you? Just tell me,” she pleaded.

  Clay looked down to his feet, then shook his head in self-pity.

  “I took out a loan that has bankrupted my soul. Now they’ve come to collect.” Clay would never tell Claire about his visit.

  Chapter 9: The Harvest