The following day Jorgenson caught his flight at the Saigon airport.
The sun was shining and the city seemed strangely in good spirits.
Quite a few hours later, he was once again in the company of his family.
***
On the afternoon of his second day of leave, Jorgenson found himself alone standing in front of his daughter’s cradle.
The little girl was crying.
Her teddy bear had slipped behind the back of her head so she was crying desperately over it.
Jorgenson stared at her blankly as he stood next to the crib, motionless. He really wasn’t feeling anything.
It was odd, and it hadn’t always been that way. The memory of those feelings were still very vivid in his mind, but the truth of the matter was that those feelings no longer existed.
It naturally went without saying that he would kill for her sake but only because she belonged to him. She was his property and no one had the right to touch her.
Even with his little baby crying however, there weren’t feelings of compassion for her or whatever else.
It was very odd indeed.
A part of Jorgenson wondered why he lacked empathy for her in spite of her suffering, while another part of him wondered why in the world he should.
For that very reason he decided to simply keep staring at her and do nothing merely to see if the crying would eventually have an effect on him.
“Here I am, baby” said Mary's voice coming from the hallway.
“I’m coming, I’m coming”
By that point the baby was screaming shrilly with her cheeks stretched by spasms and soaked with tears, while her eyes were shut tight. When Mary walked into the baby’s room, she was taken aback, almost startled by Jorgenson’s presence.
“What in heavens..?” she said.
She leaned down into the crib to pick up the screaming child, and then held her tightly in her arms while rocking her gently as she moved away from Jorgenson.
“What the hell were you doing?”
“Nothing”
“Couldn’t you see she was crying?”
Jorgenson didn’t know what to say.
“You’re a monster”
“I wasn’t doing anything”
“Exactly, you’re a fucking monster!”
Mary rocked the baby in her arms with an air of warning directed at Jorgenson almost as though she wanted to hit him but couldn't because the baby was in her arms. The woman's eyes were distraught and the more she reflected on what she’d just seen, the more irate she became.
“Who are you?”
“I...”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Mary...”
“You are a monster! Tell me who you’ve turned into Carl Jorgenson, because I really don't know any more!”
Mary stormed out of the room taking the baby with her leaving Jorgenson alone with his thoughts.
***
That night, once the lights were out, it didn’t take Jorgenson long to feel as though the shadows were moving, almost alive. It reminded him of a liquid boiling lazily or leaves in the jungle which appeared still yet in any case, always alive.
Fear was a feeling which was still vivid and strong in Jorgenson and it went hand in hand with his sense of anger.
He’d left the infinite love he once had for his daughter and the perpetual need to make her happy in Vietnam. They weren’t part of him any longer.
Jorgenson lowered his head lifting his arms up above it, shielding it in a protective manner and then slowly broke down into tears.
“Carl” Mary said softly in a sleep-filled voice.
She reached over and embraced her husband holding him tightly.
“We’ll fix everything Carl”