“Yeah, I told one of the docs. He didn’t seem surprised or alarmed. Said everyone deals with shock and stress differently. It might be my body’s way of keeping sensory stimulation to a minimum. Put that way, I guess it’s better than being blind. I’ve been temporarily blind and it sucked.”

“What, you didn’t enjoy me coaching you at mealtimes?”

“Boyd, if you keep making jokes, I’m gonna start to think you have a personality.”

O’Hara looked away with his bashful smile. He and Kennet sat on a high, stone balustrade of the abbey, enjoying both a smoke and the sunset over Kremsmunster.

“Who are you, anyway?” Kennet said. “I know you come from Cheyenne but that’s all I know. You got a family?”

“I got one but they don’t got me.”

“So will you go back to Wyoming? When we’re discharged?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Got a plan?”

“A few sketches and a list or two.”

“You’re a guarded man, my friend.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I miss Hook,” Kennet said. “You already know it, but… I never had a friend like him in my life. Growing up, my best friend was Minor. Sure, I had a circle of pals but Minor was my main buddy. I didn’t need anyone else. Then I met Hook. At first it was just funny, because of our names. Next thing I knew, we were partners. Where he went, I followed, and vice versa. Zipping our half-tents and half-sleeping bags together to make one shelter. We had eight thousand little rituals getting us through every day. I’d write a diary entry, then show it to him. Everything I hid behind the mask of the soldier, Hook knew it all. Every word. It became our record. Our story. I still wake up and forget he’s gone. I’m so sad and angry and torn up about him dying, it makes me want to break things. Or kill more people.”

The unexpected lament left him tired. He slumped and gave a low chuckle. “But I gather you already knew that.”

O’Hara was stiller than a painting. Finally, he drew in a long breath. “I miss Jock so much, it makes me wish I’d gotten killed. I never forget he’s gone. I wish I could. Sometimes I wish I never met him at all.”

His voice hovered anxiously above the words, which hung like knives in the air, ready to slash down judgment.

Kennet tried to make his own voice easy and open. “Did you two ever talk about what you might do after the war?”

“Do?”

“Together.” Kennet reached with the foot of his outstretched leg and pushed O’Hara’s side. “I’m not blind, I’m not dumb and I’m not an asshole.”