The young sergeant had looked so uncomfortable, that she almost felt sorry for him. Which was absurd, of course. She had to break down now and scream and hit things, but no – she did not. She allowed herself to feel sorry for him because it was all she had. That single dandelion seed floating in the humid morning air at Don Muang.
Deborah didn’t even know if they had such flowers here. She had not been here for that long. Everything was so new, and she had been awed that she had been allowed to come with Billy, to this place. But it was allowed, and they would see a lot of each other.
So he had said.
It was mostly about staying put and searching for the right type of grease oil, he had joked. Nothing ever happened except shifts in temperature. So he had said.
And when he had to go, and didn’t come back – they said he’d soon be home.
“Ma’am, we have to go now.”
She nodded. She had already waited for so long here, and her family wanted her to come home. But they would keep up the search. So they said.
In the end, perhaps that meant that what everybody had said would eventually turn out to be true.