10FOR A WEEK, EVER since returning from Jimmy’s funeral, Tony has not been able to close his eyes without dreaming, without finding himself stuck in a dank fetid tunnel, without smelling the rotting flesh, without seeing himself chopping heads as they attempt to thrust bayonets into him, without holding Manny, without Manny being shot again, without Manny becoming Jimmy. No longer are they mere dreams, night-day-mares, but now full-blown night-day traumas where Tony relives every sight, every action, every odor, every corpse.
Linda was petrified. Tony would not come into the bedroom with her, would not lie beside her in bed. She had called her folks from Mill Creek Falls, had thought they should know. “Tony’s cousin—you met him at our wedding ...” she’d explained to her father. He’d been
