Risk Taker by Lindsay McKenna Page B

tent
opening. Her heart raced as she noticed a third white, pristine envelope on the
floor. Sarah didn’t even try to fool herself about the quiet joy running through
her. It was another poem from Ethan. She sat up, pushed the hair off her face
and walked over and picked it up.
    Sarah wanted to believe Ethan truly liked her—beyond her
appearance. The chances of that, however, were slim to none. Men saw her in
sexual terms only for the most part. Not romance or love—both yearnings she had
but didn’t feel were possible in her life. Still, as she picked up the envelope,
the idealistic part of her swooned with excitement.
    Sitting back on her cot, Sarah opened it up, her hand trembling
slightly. She pulled it out and opened it up.

    Who could guess that beneath the pastiche of
outer appearances
    You would be imbued with lush streams,
blooming banks of gladiolas
    And cypress trees? Everyone agreed
    That yours is a colorful
personality,
    But until you recently whispered to my
psyche,
    Who knew you retained a range and hue of
vivid colors
    Streaming to the periphery of awareness, then
back again?
    (to be continued as poet gets a
chance)

    Sarah closed her eyes, pressing the envelope to her breast. She felt this man, his energy and his heart. How
could this be happening to her? She hoped with all her heart this wasn’t a mean
trick being played on her, that his poem was truly as it appeared: a man
courting a woman. Ethan could be doing this to manipulate her.
    Her hand fell into her lap, the envelope still in her
fingertips. Sarah had been hurt so often by men who professed to like her,
wanted to get to know her, and it always ended up the same: they wanted to use
her body and that was it. Did Ethan want the same thing, even with such an
elaborate plan? She hoped not, but her years of experience in the military
overrode her idealistic wish.
    Slowly rising, Sarah stretched, hands above her head. The gym
workouts were helping, and she was feeling a bit stronger, more together. She
had tried to swallow her disappointment when she didn’t see Ethan at the gym or
chow hall yesterday. Maybe today? It was something she looked forward to without
questioning too closely why.
    * * *
    On the last day of her enforced medical rest, Sarah
awoke much earlier. She looked toward the tent door and saw a fourth envelope
from Ethan sitting there. Her watch read 0600. This time, she let happiness flow
through her as she retrieved the card. Her heart squeezed with anticipation as
she sat down on the cot and eagerly opened it. The envelope awoke the part of
her life that had been set aside due to her military career. War was harsh and
took no prisoners. The weight of the envelope, its perfect cleanliness against
the dirtiness of daily combat, transported her to another time and place. A
place where civility, romance and social graces all lived. Holding her breath,
Sarah pulled out the creamy papyrus and opened it up.
    A lush and virtual wilderness is
encamped
    Next to your orderly hymns, and it is a
telling, glowing omen
    That a symphony of melodies is vibrating and
humming
    Beneath your outer carapace.

    We thought we had glimpses of your depth, and
our own
    In truth, we had barely scratched the surface
of being.
    (to be continued as poet gets
time)

    Sarah sighed softly, allowing the words to vibrate through her.
This felt so real. As if this man were reaching out and invisibly sliding his
finger down the slope of her cheek, softly touching her lower lip with his
grazing thumb. Her heart opened, and heat pooled in her lower body.
    Sarah wondered again when Ethan was placing the envelope
beneath the tent. She never heard his footsteps again after that first day. Was
this whole thing a game for him? Intuitively, she didn’t think so. If nothing
else, Sarah thought, as she slowly read each luscious, juicy word Ethan had
written, his poem gave her hope and solace. His words, how he saw her and
himself, were far removed from the daily violence