“I’d never hurt you, Audra, uh, Teresa Marie. You got no cause to be scared. They was just bad dreams, things I remember from the war. They’ll stop coming after a time. That’s what they told me at the hospital, before they sent me home. ‘Just give it time, soldier. Keep a stiff upper lip and it’s gonna be all right.’ That’s what they said.”

Randy’s eyes filled with tears. He looked at Grace. “Only, it ain’t no better and not getting no better. That’s why I haven’t been round to see you, Mrs. Grace. I didn’t want to come until I was all right again, ’cept now I think I ain’t never gonna be all right no more.”

Her heart aching, Grace approached and hugged him. “It sounds to me like what you’ve got, Randy, is a case of what they call post-traumatic stress. I read an article about it in Newsweek magazine. From what I’ve read, you’re not alone. Lots of soldiers are coming home with post-traumatic stress. They can help you with counseling and medicine. It’s not like when the Vietnam vets came home and no one knew what was happening to them. Did they suggest you get help from the veterans hospital in Asheville? Did they give you a name of someone to see?”

“No, ma’am, they didn’t. They said it’ll pass in time.”

“Well, it might pass in time, but why should you suffer while you wait for that to happen, when there’s help out there?”

“It would be wrong to go running for help, taking up someone’s time when there are guys coming home in worse shape than me,” he said.

Anger stirred in Grace. “No, Randy. It would be right, not wrong, for you to get all the help that you need. You’re as important as anyone else and deserve all the help that’s available.”

“Listen to Mrs. Grace, please, Randy,” his sister said.

He shook his head. “I appreciate your coming over here, Mrs. Grace, but I got to do this by myself, show I ain’t weak and got no guts.”

Grace’s hands flew to her head. “This is all wrong. Whoever told you getting help was wrong, after you’ve given so much to your country?” She turned away, arms crossed. “I hate this war. Hate this whole horrible war.” Struggling not to break into tears, she walked to her car. “I’ll go now, but I’m coming back with all the information you need. Then you can decide.”

“Leave it be, Mrs. Grace. Just leave it be,” Randy said quietly, firmly, his voice so cold it scared her.