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| The Second Chance |
Part 2
"There's no heartbeat, Commander. He's dead. There is nothing to do anymore."
Alain had just told her that sentence, but Oscar couldn't accept that. She looked at him with an expression of terror, then her shouting was like a roar: "Nooooo! My Andr� can't die!" She threw herself on him, and with her mouth blew the air in his mouth. Then she tore the jacket, and pushed with both her hands on his chest, desperate. Nobody understood what was she doing, but it was clear that she was fighting the death.
"Breathe, Andr�, you can't die, breathe!" She repeated these gestures again and again, with all her strength: she had to win.
Around her everybody was shocked at seeing her like that, like touched by madness. Alain with a surge of pity was about to stop her, when Andre moaned and then coughed. Quickly Oscar rolled him onto his side, so that the water would be expelled from his lungs. He was alive. The death didn't had her prey, for now: Oscar did win her battle, but it wasn't over yet. The wound to his shoulder was bleeding heavily, it was essential to tampon the haemorrhage and find a doctor.
Back to the barracks, Andr� was taken to the infirmary. Meanwhile Oscar sent for the doctor Lassonne, the Jarjayes' family doctor. The doctor entered the infirmary with his assistant, reassuring Oscar: "We'll do all we can."
Standing in front of the closed door, Oscar was trembling visibly. The clothes were soaked, the wet hair were stuck to the uniform. But she wasn't trembling just because of the cold, it was very clear.
Nobody dared to breath a word. Alain decided to react: "He's in good hands, Commander: while we are waiting it would be better to change out of those wet clothes, isn't a good idea to catch a pneumonia!!"
Oscar like an automaton made for her office, where there was also a little bedroom that she used when she couldn't go home. An austere room, just a bed, a wardrobe, a dressing table with a large mirror and a little bedside table. She opened the wardrobe and blamed herself for not being provident: there weren't many things because she didn't think to fill it, so there were just a shirt and a pair of trousers. But that was enough. She changed out of the clothes quickly to go back to the infirmary as soon as possible, not even bothering to dry her hair fully. She found the doctor who was leaving with his assistant: he answered to Oscar's silent question with solicitude, because he knew her very well.
"The situation is critical, Mademoiselle. Unfortunately not only he risked death by drowning, but he has also lost a lot of blood because of the wound. He's weak, very weak. I did everything I could do, we have just to wait, now, and hope."
Oscar leaned against the door's jamb, with her outstretched arm, to support herself. She felt that she was about to faint and tried to control herself.
"Mademoiselle, you have nothing to reproach yourself with, his heart stopped beating and you brought him back to life. I'm pleased that you put to good use my teachings about first aid. After that time that both of you risked drowning in the pond, when you were children..." Oscar shuddered.
"Unfortunately I won't be able to come tomorrow, I've been called for an important consultation in Versailles, so you should arrange for the wound's dressing."
Oscar nodded straightening up herself. The battle continued. "I thank you doctor."
The bugle call echoed in the infirmary. Just at the right time. Grumbling piqued, because interrupted at the crucial point, the French guard soldiers left the infirmary, casting a last glance at Andr�'s petrified face. However, they would have pestered him later...
Alain weighted the effect of his account, then, bursting into a fit of laughter: "The lioness fought against the death to save her love, and she won!"
Andr� was overwhelmed by the revelation."So, it wasn't a dream."
Alain looked at him, inquiring.
"I've dreamt that I was about to drink the water of the Lethe."
"Le-what? Never heard of it."
Andr� raised his eyebrow. "The Lethe, Alain, in the Greek mythology is the river whose water makes people to forget the past life before entering afterlife. It's also mentioned in the "Republic" by Plato.
"Andr�
"Eh?"
"You are too much of an intellectual for my tastes."
"Ah."
"But luckily you're not supposed to be attractive to me, but to our beautiful Commander. I'm sure that she will appreciate all the mythological rubbish with which you'll stuff your words of love." [3]
"Go to hell, Alain!"
"Yes, I'm going, I'm going... do you need anything else?"
"I need to get dressed again. In my backpack there are my clean clothes. May you fetch it, please? I can't remain this way, half-naked.
"You're a prudish virgin, really. Andr�, if you go on like this you won't strike anything. Don't you know that even women like to look?"
"A-Alain!"
"Ah, Colonel D'Agout."
"Good morning Sir. How is private Grandier?"
"He recovered. Despite the delay in giving assistance."
"I see."
"Colonel."
"Yes?"
"Prepare a letter for the command of regiment's bureau. We require that we are given a medical officer, it's needed. It may happen again, given the situation in Paris, that some of our soldiers may need immediate medical care."
"Yes, Sir."
"Thanks. For... everything."
The day seemed endless. She would have liked to leave the office to poke her head in the infirmary, but she couldn't. Damned duty! For the first time in her life, maybe, she would have liked to neglect her commitments. It was a great temptation. On the other hand, she knew that she had to control herself. Yet her behaviour had been somewhat... bizarre, at least, should have appeared like that to her soldiers' eyes.
Who knows what they were saying, now. She was surprised at realizing that after all she couldn't care less. She would have faced a problem at a time. What nobody could question anymore was that she was a good Commander, and that seemed to be very well understood. She felt light-hearted and kept working.
It was evening by now. The uniform hanged out in front of the fireplace was now dry and she put it on. She felt a bit more at ease, arranging better the sleeves. The mirror reflected the image of the Commander. How funny how a simple piece of clothing could change the things: at the end it was a kind of carapace, that made her to feel safe and shielded. Like a lobster, and she started laughing at her own reflection.
She closed the office and resolute made for the infirmary. Arrived at the infirmary door, she saw that the room was full of soldiers: they had finished their guard, and they had came to see Andr�. On the one hand, she was happy that Andr� was by this time well liked by his comrades, on the other hand... she had hoped to find him alone. Besides, she should arrange for the medication, as the doctor had said: it was necessary to disinfect the wound and change the dressing, and she didn't intend to leave this task to others. There wasn't the medical officer, and she was confident of being the most capable person, given her experience and her secret love for the medicine. If she hadn't been a soldier, she would have liked to be a doctor. Certainly, one was the antithesis of the other: the soldier takes the life, the doctor gives it back.
How complicated and contradictory are you, Oscar.
The Commander's appearance on the door destroyed the cheerfulness that was filling the room. Oscar did regret that, and she felt like she was in the way.
Alain came to her aid: "Hey, Commander, we were waiting for you!"
Andr� was smiling at her, so she came up to him: "How are you?"
"I feel better, thanks."
Both were embarrassed, as they felt observed.
He wears a shirt.
She doesn't wear that shirt.
What a pity, they thought in unison.
Oscar roused herself from her impure thoughts, and in the most normal voice she could utter said: "The doctor can't come, so I must arrange for the dressing change." And she made for the medical cabinet, taking out all the necessities, like gauzes, bandages, and medications. Everything was put on a bedside table.
Andr� gulped: "But I..."
Oscar's attitude didn't allow any objection. "You don't want to risk an infection. You know very well that I'm able to do that. Don't make a fuss."
Certainly their Commander never stopped surprising them. A swarm of flies could have entered as easily the open mouths of the French guards, and they wouldn't have even realized.
Alain took control of the situation: "Well, guys, I'm thirsty. Since we are off duty, let's make the most of it: let's leave Grandier here in his sick-bed and go to a tavern to drink to his health." Underlining the speech with persuasive slaps on the shoulders, he emptied the room and left, but not before giving an half-salute to the beautiful Commander.
Oscar waited for the voices that echoed in the corridor to fade away, then she made for the door and closed it. To overcome the embarrassment, she decided to swing into action. Andr� was sitting on the bed, his back was supported by a few pillows, and he was staring at her without uttering a word.
She came up to him: "Andr�, you must take off your shirt, so I can begin changing the dressing.
Andr� began to untie the fabric strings of his shirt, embarrassed. He tried to slip off the piece of clothing but he wasn't able to do it, because of the pain in the shoulder.
"I'm afraid that you'll have to help me."
Oscar, apparently impassive, did it, casting a falsely distracted glance to his friend's torso, while she turned to wash her hands. She took off her jacket to make herself more comfortable, putting it on the back of a chair. Then she rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, baring the forearms. She seized a new bar of marseille soap and washed meticulously her hands in the basin, pouring fresh water many times to rinse well.
Once dried her hands, she came again up to Andr�, who never stopped staring at her. Oscar sat on the bed. She began unwrapping the bandages, paying attention to the coagulated blood that stained them and stuck them to the skin. The bullet holes appeared with their dark clotted blood. Luckily the bullets went out of him, and it wasn't necessary to cut the flesh in order to extract them. Once healed, only two pink little circles would have marked the skin. It was necessary to clean all around, and taken a gauze, Oscar began to cleanse the skin of chest and shoulder.
Andr� was holding his breath. A hand of Oscar was laid on his sound shoulder, while the other one was cleansing with the gauze. He felt all that like a sweet caress.
Oscar looked him in the eye: "Now I have to disinfect the wounds, it will hurt a bit."
Actually, the wounds were stinging a lot. But Andr� was still under the influence of the pleasure for the touch of the woman that he loved, and he wasn't much affected by this. All that it was repeated on his back to disinfect the bullet exit holes as well.
Oscar allowed herself the chance to look attentively, taking advantage of the fact that he had his back turned to her: did he always had such a broad back?
Also Andr� was taking advantage of the fact that Oscar couldn't see him to hide the effect that she was causing with those touches as light as butterfly wings: he bended the knees draping the sheets over his lap, so to conceal what was going on in his trousers.
Oscar got up and took a roll of bandages from the bedside table, and began to bandage the chest and the shoulder. Andr� was melting under this sweet torture: she was close, too close, dangerously close. His senses were excited, her scent, her hands, were driving him mad. But he made a promise, he had to control himself.
On the other hand, also Oscar was trying to dominate herself, to not to get carried away with the atmosphere that she herself had caused. She was afraid that her heartbeat, racing madly, could be perceived by Andr�. She was afraid that her hands could tremble.
"I've finished." She said, finishing the bandaging.
"Thank you, Oscar." said the man.
And now? What should she do? Go or stay? And what to say? Oscar was hesitating, putting back gauzes and medications in the cabinet, thinking over what to do.
Andr� started talking first. "Oscar, Alain told me what happened after you rescued me. You saved me twice. Thanks."
"You would have done the same for me." she said, sitting close to him. And she wanted to say: "I can't live without you."
"Yes." Andr� answered with a whisper, and he wanted to say: "For you... I'd give up the last drop of my blood."
"You'll have to stay here for a while. I've sent a letter to the command's bureau to ask that a medical officer would be assigned as soon as possible to our company. I hope that someone will be sent tomorrow.
Actually, she didn't hope that at all.
"Ah, I don't mind to stay here, at least I can sleep peacefully, without Alain that snores in my ears like a bear!" And he wanted to say: "I'd like that you would stay here, by me."
"It's late, now I have to go." And she wanted to say: "No, isn't this... isn't what I wanted to say, I'm tangling the words..." [4] She picked up her jacket, then said: "Wait, I'll help you to put on your shirt again." and she did it.
Their faces became close, for a moment their eyes met, and the one perceived the languor that the other felt. As if she was struck by lightning, Oscar roused herself, stood back and turning she made for the door. Before to open she turned again towards Andr� and said: "Good night, Andr�."
"Good night, Oscar." And the door was closed.
Andr� remained alone, asking himself about her attitude. Could it be that Oscar...?
Notes:
[3] A little revenge against the manga, in which the love dialogues are filled with mythological references.
[4] Inspired by the scene of the manga in which Oscar breaks the G string of her violin and talks with Andr� about everything except that what she really wanted to say.
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