11-20-2017, 06:12 PM
2043, Iowa, USA
Two weeks ago, Jay was part of the Raiders. He was Special Forces in the United States Marine Corps. Two weeks ago he had a mission. He had purpose. He had brothers.
Today, he was a farmer again.
Discharged three days ago, it was a quick turnaround out of North Carolina, Camp Lejune was a memory. Combat boots were a memory. Uniforms were gone. Pins were gone. Patches were gone. Discharged, Other than Honorable wasn't the kind of thing where a guy came home to trumpets and parades. He didn't have awards and medals to hang on the wall. The picture on his mom's mantle was three years outdated, of a newly graduated marine out of basic training. Hell, he was lucky to not be in jail.
Jay picked up the frame, held it in his hands a moment, then put it back facedown on the mantle. He couldn't look at it anymore.
He pinched his eyes shut and started to reach for his back jeans pocket when a small voice stopped his hand. "Whatcha doin'?"
He turned in time to greet the face of his eleven year old kid sister. She plopped on the couch, tucked her ankles up under her and pulled a blanket around her shoulders. A light snow started to fall outside and the house was chilly. She was out of school for winter break, but she looked pale and thinner than he remembered. Maybe he'd spent too long in South America and forgot what it was like back home.
"Nothing, Cay. I was going to go chop wood for the fireplace,"
he started to go but Cayli twisted in her seat as he reached the door.
"Dad split all the logs last week. They're all out by the shed."
Jay didn't even look back at her as the screen door closed on his heels.
"I know, Cay. Thanks."
He knew exactly how many logs were stacked up ready for burning. Didn't mean he wasn't going to go chop more anyway.
An hour later, he came back inside, hands numb from the cold, hair soaking wet with snow. He stomped the mud out of his boots to leave them by the door. When he realized Cayli was napping on the couch, their cat curled up on her chest, Jay swore at himself for being too loud. He quietly locked up the front door, checking the horizon for signs of vehicles - that EvilNombre in Nicaragua had lieutenants that were out of business because of him. The mission was blacked out, but couldn't be too careful.
He paused on his way to the kitchen, studying the little girl that he still thought of as a bumbling toddler getting into all his stuff when they were growing up. Standing there in the middle of his parents' living room, stuck, he pulled the flask from his back pocket that he started to grab when she first interrupted him at the fireplace, twisted open the cap with numb, shaking fingers, and finished off the contents. There were only drops left.
Before heading to the kitchen to fill it up, he stopped, pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, brushed the hair from her face and scratched the cat on the top of the head. As soon as he refilled the flask, he came back to start the fire.
Two weeks ago, Jay was part of the Raiders. He was Special Forces in the United States Marine Corps. Two weeks ago he had a mission. He had purpose. He had brothers.
Today, he was a farmer again.
Discharged three days ago, it was a quick turnaround out of North Carolina, Camp Lejune was a memory. Combat boots were a memory. Uniforms were gone. Pins were gone. Patches were gone. Discharged, Other than Honorable wasn't the kind of thing where a guy came home to trumpets and parades. He didn't have awards and medals to hang on the wall. The picture on his mom's mantle was three years outdated, of a newly graduated marine out of basic training. Hell, he was lucky to not be in jail.
Jay picked up the frame, held it in his hands a moment, then put it back facedown on the mantle. He couldn't look at it anymore.
He pinched his eyes shut and started to reach for his back jeans pocket when a small voice stopped his hand. "Whatcha doin'?"
He turned in time to greet the face of his eleven year old kid sister. She plopped on the couch, tucked her ankles up under her and pulled a blanket around her shoulders. A light snow started to fall outside and the house was chilly. She was out of school for winter break, but she looked pale and thinner than he remembered. Maybe he'd spent too long in South America and forgot what it was like back home.
"Nothing, Cay. I was going to go chop wood for the fireplace,"
he started to go but Cayli twisted in her seat as he reached the door.
"Dad split all the logs last week. They're all out by the shed."
Jay didn't even look back at her as the screen door closed on his heels.
"I know, Cay. Thanks."
He knew exactly how many logs were stacked up ready for burning. Didn't mean he wasn't going to go chop more anyway.
An hour later, he came back inside, hands numb from the cold, hair soaking wet with snow. He stomped the mud out of his boots to leave them by the door. When he realized Cayli was napping on the couch, their cat curled up on her chest, Jay swore at himself for being too loud. He quietly locked up the front door, checking the horizon for signs of vehicles - that EvilNombre in Nicaragua had lieutenants that were out of business because of him. The mission was blacked out, but couldn't be too careful.
He paused on his way to the kitchen, studying the little girl that he still thought of as a bumbling toddler getting into all his stuff when they were growing up. Standing there in the middle of his parents' living room, stuck, he pulled the flask from his back pocket that he started to grab when she first interrupted him at the fireplace, twisted open the cap with numb, shaking fingers, and finished off the contents. There were only drops left.
Before heading to the kitchen to fill it up, he stopped, pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, brushed the hair from her face and scratched the cat on the top of the head. As soon as he refilled the flask, he came back to start the fire.
Only darkness shows you the light.