It was the evening of the day I returned, and I was sitting on the front porch with a cup of coffee. The coffee was really only so I'd have something to do with my hands, and an excuse to be out of the house. As comforting as the familiar surroundings were, for some reason they felt stiffling right now.

It was dusk, a real pretty time of day around here. Our house faced west, and I had a good view of the sun going down. The horizon was washed with red-gold, but higher up the sky was darkening, and you could already see a few stars peeping out. The moon would rise soon. I intended to sit and watch it climb a ways. I wasn't sure but that I wouldn't sit there till it made it's arc and dropped below the horizon, and the sun started to come up at my back. I felt like I could sit there forever. It wasn't so much that it was so peaceful. I just didn't have the motivation to move.

I was going to have to, I knew that. You can't just sit around on a farm, not for long. Leisure has to be earned with hard work. But right now any sort of activity seemed beyond me.

"W-walter?" I looked up to find Honoria Winchester watching me from the doorway. "Are you all r-right?" Honoria is a wonderful lady: beautiful and kind. Her voice is soft and cultured, and after you know her for awhile, you hardly notice the stutter.

"Yeah, I'm good."

She came and sat in a rocking chair beside me. She was still wearing the apron she'd put on to help Mom with the supper dishes. That had kind of surprised me. I knew she didn't do a lot of housework in the Winchester family, but she'd pitched right in around the house. Mom told me that she'd scarcely had to lift a finger since Honoria had arrived. She'd never felt so pampered in her life. "Are you s-s-s... Are you s-sure? You've been holding that c-cup for t-t-ten minutes without d-drinking a d-drop."

I took a sip, and made a face. "I like cold coffee."

"You hardly t-touched your meal. I think your mother was w-worried about you."

I hung my head. "I know. It tasted great. Nobody can cook like Mom."

Honoria smiled gently. "No one c-can ever cook like M-mom, whoever she may b-be. Are you not feeling w-well?"

"No." I set the cup on the rail. "I dunno. Maybe a little off. I miss Uncle Ed. I wish... I wish I could've been here. Maybe if he hadn't had to work so hard..."

"S-s-stop that r-right now. It was j-just his t-time, Walter. He wouldn't wuh-want you to think any di-differntly. I know you're sad, buh-but I c-cah... c-can't help feeling there's suh-something else tuh-troubling you."

I couldn't look at her. "No, really. Just strain." I reached over and patted her hand. "Thanks for worrying about me. But I'm a big boy now, I can work it out alone."

"Buh-but Walter, tha-that's the p-point. You duh-don't have to. There are suh-so many p-people who want to help."

I stood up, getting the mug again. "I better take this in and rinse it out. Coffee stains if you leave it in too long, ya know." She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she just sighed, and nodded. That's one thing that's bad... or maybe it's good, I dunno. But that's one thing about being raised with all those fancy social restrictions. It makes it harder for you to pry into someone else's business, even when you're just worried about them.

It had been hard enough talking to Sidney, I sure couldn't tell a nice lady like Honoria what had happened to me. And I couldn't tell my Mom. I knew she was worried, but I was gonna have to let her think that my moods were caused by the war, and missing Uncle Ed. She was never going to know what happened to me. Never.

I went to bed that night in the room I've had since I was old enough to sleep away from my Mom. You might have noticed I said, 'went to bed', not 'went to sleep'. I didn't sleep. I was afraid to.

Y'see, while I was in the MASH, after... what happened, the doctors gave me something to make me sleep each night. There'd even been some argument between Charles and Hawkeye about it. Charles said I needed to try to sleep on my own, and Hawkeye said that since I hadn't really slept since I'd come out from under aenesthesia, he was damn sure not going to let it go on any longer while there was a pill in Korea that could help me.

Charles gave in, but he wouldn't send any over with me, no matter what Hawkeye said. "He has to fight this through, Pierce. I know it's hard, but damn it, it's not going to help the boy if he ends up with a dependency. You know that."

I was tired, but I didn't want to sleep. I laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling for awhile. Then I got up, put on my robe, and went down to sit on the porch. I sat there all night, just kind of staring out into the dark, not really thinking about anything. I sat till the sky started to turn grey, the sun shooting gold beams around the house from where it was rising in the east behind me.

I had meant to go back upstairs. I'd forgotten what an early riser my Mom was. I must have been pretty preoccupied, though I couldn't tell you now what it was I was thinking of. In any case, I didn't know she had come out till she put her hand on my shoulder.

"Son? What are you doing up so early? You're not in the army now, you can sleep in."

I had flinched a little at her touch. "Yeah, I know, Ma. Habits, ya know?"

She was hesitant. "Dear, were you out here all night?"

"No! Geez, no Mom." I spoke too quickly. I never have been able to lie to my Mom. She sees through me like a pane of glass she just finished polishing.

"Son, what's wrong? Can't you tell me?"

I stood up, wincing as my muscles pulled. I had been sitting in one position an awful long time. "No, Ma. I can't. I love you, but I can't. Don't ask, okay? I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Didn't you have one before you went to bed last night?"

"Yeah, but I feel like I need one. I feel dirty."

In the shower, I let the hot water pound down on me. I knew I was being selfish. Our boiler is old and cranky, and it doesn't take much to use up the hot. That was all right with me. When I ran out of hot water, I could scrub myself just as easily in cold.

I don't know how long I was in there. Probably too long. Eventually there was a tap on the door, and Honoria called, "All ruh-right in there?"

"Yeah, just washin' my hair." I quickly stuck my head under the spray, then turned it off and got out. "I'll be out in a second, Honoria." We still have an outhouse, but I couldn't ask a refined lady like Honoria Winchester to use that when there was perfectly good indoor plumbing available.

I dried quickly and wrapped myself up in my robe, opening the door. "All yours."

"I di-didn't need t-t-to... I was wuh-worried. You were s-so long. I thought maybe you sluh-slipped and..." She touched my wet hair lightly.

I flinched back from her touch, and I saw the hurt in her eyes. "No, I'm okay." I said shortly. Then, walking away, I muttered, "My head may be screwed up, but it ain't from a knock." I went in my room. It was a little while before I heard her move off down the hall.

I knew that I couldn't go on like that. I had to make an effort to get back to a normal routine, for Ma's sake. And I did try. I did my usual chores that day. I moved a lot of hay in the barn, working furiously. I found that I was using the pitchfork a lot more vigorously than I usually did.

I didn't want to break for lunch, but I did. And this time I forced myself to eat two plates of the good food Mom and Honoria fixed for me, and I smiled while I did it. Then I went out to the barn and threw it back up in a corner, and started working again till I was nearly blind with exhaustion and sweat. Maybe I'd be able to sleep. In any case, the work gave me an excuse for another long shower before supper.

At supper I was so tired that I was picking at my food again. Mom and Honoria kept exchanging looks across the table, till I had to get up and leave before I said something nasty I knew I'd regret. Anyway, I wanted to take another shower.

It was midnight before I managed to force myself into bed. Mom had ironed the sheets for me, and they were cool, and crisp, and I still felt like my skin was going to crawl right off me. But I forced myself to close my eyes, and tried to sleep. I guess I managed...

Because all at once there was a hand over my mouth, and I was smelling sweat and fear and sex, and a ghost pain, really just the memory, I suppose, exploded in my bowels.

Suddenly someone was shaking me. The only thing that kept me from striking out was the thought, He'll kill me! He'll kill Ray!

"Walter! Walter, wake up!" I blinked at the sound of the frantic voice, the world coming into focus. It was my Mom. She was bending over my bed, holding my shoulders, her sweet face twisted and frightened.

"Ma... sorry. Bad dream." I could only speak in fragments. The terror was still too fresh.

"Baby!" She sat on the bed, pulling me into her arms and rocking me. I was rigid. What if she could somehow feel, somehow guess what had happened? Even her gentle stroking of my hair didn't soothe me this time. "Oh, Walter." She sounded mournful. "You were screaming so. What did they do to you? Please, tell me!"

I could see Honoria, her hair braided for sleep, standing in the doorway, watching us. At her grave, questioning look, I hid my face against Ma. "Don't know. Can't remember. Can't remember, can't remember, I swear. Please, Mom..."

Honoria left. She came back in a minute with a glass, and handed it to my mother. "Make him d-drink that, duh-dear. I fuh-found it in Ed's ruh-room. P-p-purely medicinal, I'm shuh-sure."

It was whiskey. I managed to force it down, to please the ladies, and, in a minute I wasn't shaking quite so bad. I'd never drank much in my life, but I decided that it might not be such a bad thing, if it had that effect. I guess those thought processes are what make most of the drunks in the world.

Mom wouldn't leave, no matter what I said. And I gotta admit, I didn't try too hard to run her off. She stayed sitting by my bed, just like she had when I'd gotten sick as a child. I'd start to doze, and start to whimper in my sleep, and she'd wake me up. We were both pretty tired, come morning.

I got up and took another shower.

When I came down stairs, Honoria was in the kitchen, on the phone. I wouldn't have known, but she was talking kind of loud. That told me it was probably long distance.

"...suh-suh-screaming, Ch-charles. Whuh-what happened?" She paused, and I felt like a pit was opening up at my feet. "All ruh-right, I cah-can respect that. But he nuh-needs help, badly. Isn't there anyone who muh-might be able tuh-to..."

I left the room. I was afraid I'd say something mean to Honoria, and I knew she was just trying to help. I went out to the barn, and started working again. I didn't bother with breakfast, or lunch. That's probably why I fainted. Luckily I was in the house, and not standing at the top of the stairs, or anything. I came to sitting against the refrigeratio, with Honoria pushing a glass of orange juice against my lips, muttering mostly to herself.

"The very idea! Starving yourself, Walter! Are you tuh-trying to punish your poor mother? She's already lost Ed, are you going to make her lose you, too?"

"Hey," I said mildly. "You're not stuttering hardly at all."

"I'm angry!" she snapped. "For suh-some ungodly reason it gets better when I'm angry."

"What did I do?"

"Walter!" She shoved at my shoulder in exasperation.

"You talked to Charles." She hesitated, then lifted her chin and nodded. "What did he tell you?"

"Only that you were hurt deeply, in the spirit as well as the buh-body. I asked him what we could do, and he didn't know."

But there was a look in her eyes that told me she might not be telling me everything. "What are you up to, Honoria?"

"Me, Walter?" She smiled angelically, but an angel that looked as devious as she did right then would probably have been booted out of heaven. Well, there wasn't anything I could do about it right then. To keep her happy (and to put a little more starch in my knees and backbone) I ate a sandwich. I managed to keep it down, this time.

She wouldn't let me go back to pitching hay, so I settled for tending the three cows. I checked and trimmed their hooves, took off a couple of inches of horn where they'd started to grow out, and gave them a good brushing down. That seemed to surprise them, but they liked it. And it helped me, some. I guess that was kind of a little like how the doctors must feel, taking care of someone who, at least for a little while, can't take care of themselves. It's a nice feeling. I wonder now why I didn't realize then that I was denying that privilege to my friends and family.