A Marine Called Jason Pt. 03

I knew he wasn't talking about girls.

"Yes, but I don't know how many. He would never say," I said. "He was good. Best they had. I could tell you one big target he took out but you wouldn't believe it."

"We would believe anything about Jason," Bill said.

"Yeah, tell us."

"He took out Dhin," I said. Bill didn't know who Dhin was.

"He was the president of Viet Nam for awhile," Frank told him.

"He took out the fuckin' president of Viet Nam!?" he blurted in disbelief. Then he broke out laughing. "That is the damndest thing I ever heard. Who would have thought......fuck, I can hear it now, at graduation......And the most likely to take out the president of Viet Nam is.......Jason Seaborn."

"Is this being disrespectful or what?" Frank asked as we were popping the second and final round.

"Hey, we're not pissing on his grave," Bill said.

"Is it being disrespectful?" Frank asked me, in a more serious tone.

"No," I said. "He would be sitting right here with us if he could."

"Yeah, he's smiling and shaking his head and saying, what a bunch of dumb fucks," Bill said. His voice choked and I saw his eyes tear up.

"I'll bet he tore through the woman in Vietnam," Frank said.

"Yeah, he was the horniest fucker I ever saw," Bill put in.

"He did his share of damage," I said. "He was the only guy I knew who never had to pay a prostitute."

"They gave it away, huh?" Bill said, laughing.

"To him," I said.

"He should've been charging them," he said. "Dam, he was hung." He looked at Frank. "Remember how he was hung?"

"Who could forget that? Hell, we didn't know if we were in a locker room or a horse stable," Frank said.

"God, I'll bet he tore up some pussy with that thing."

The conversation with the two big hunks was turning me on and I was surprised and impressed that they were talking so intimately about Jason. But it was nothing; I didn't believe there'd ever been anything between them. I had the fleeting thought of trying to get something going with them. But if they didn't go for it.....well, them knowing that Jason's best buddy was gay....it would've somehow degraded Jason's memory.

It felt good to be with the two athletes who knew Jason as well as I did but from a different time and in a different way. But it was time to go and we stood up and gathered up the beer cans. The boys took them and crushed them into little pieces then we stood together in silence. The sun was going down and it seemed a perfect time to say goodbye.

Suddenly, Bill let it go. He put his face in one hand and sobbed. His broad shoulders shook with his grief. His team mate put his arm across his shoulder and pulled him in tight as tears rolled down his face.

I stood at the grave for a few more minutes. I thought the boys needed to be with him now more than I did. Finally, I came to attention and saluted. The boys put out their hands in turn and we shook hands.

"Take care. We're behind you all the way," Frank said.

"Thanks," I said and I walked away. I knew it wasn't good-bye. I didn't know if it ever would be. The two boys were still standing at the grave when I drove out of the cemetery.

I headed to Indianapolis to catch a plane. No, I didn't go visit my family. It was an eight-hour drive and I didn't want to go. There was just no reason to. I felt guilty but I didn't want to see them. I didn't know how I would explain it to Mom and Dad but God help me, I wanted to get back to Viet Nam where I belonged; where I could be with Jason's memory.

When I arrived back in country, the first thing I did was go to Toby's. As usual, he had my beer on the counter before I got to the bar.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Very impressive, but I never want to do that again."

"How'd his parents take it?"

"It's hard to say. I think they were numb the whole time. His brother, on the other hand......"

"I didn't know he had a brother," Toby said.

"I didn't either till just before Jason left to go home," I said. "The guy was a first-class prick and a certified asshole all rolled into one. He and some of his friends wore black armbands to the wake."

"No shit!"

"Well, the brother didn't. I asked him not to and he gave his armband to me."

Toby laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet it was real easy to convince him," he said.

I sipped my beer and Toby watched me. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Don't even go there," I said.

"Okay."

"I can't handle it yet," I said. "I don't know if I ever will." I quickly washed down the choked sob in my throat. In my mind I had gone where I'd told Toby not to go.

"Listen, I don't want to intrude on your thoughts or your life, but.....well, if you ever want to be with someone who knew him, to talk or......anything......I'm here."

His meaning soaked in and I nodded with a forced smile. "Thanks."

I gradually got back into the swing of things. In the natural scheme of things the body makes its demands, for nourishment, sleep, even sexual urges....and in time they take priority over emotions. My sexual urges made themselves known and the need began to build up. I went to Toby's a few times but never made any contact. I didn't really go there for that reason but I figured if it happened...... Then there was always Toby's standing offer.

Back in the barracks I began to take note of a couple of the guys I'd been living with for all those months. One especially.....Tom McCord, who had a drop-dead sexy butt that he didn't mind showing off. His entire body was something to show off. He never wore a towel in the latrine. The other guy, Randy Jones, it was his cock that drew my attention. He was legendary hung; thick, veiny, long with a generous collar. I often wondered if he was as big as Jason.

I dreamed up one scenario after another. The one that I dwelled on was of me eating Tom's tight, round ass while the Randy fucked me. I didn't make a move on either of them, though. I knew I was in great and dire need for sexual satisfaction when I awoke from a dream about Jason and realized I'd had a wet dream! I was covered with come. Shit, I hadn't done that since I was a kid. I woke up just as it was coming to an end, the stuff was till warm and lying in the thick globes and ropes. There was nothing handy to clean it off. I quickly smeared it all over my abs so it wouldn't run down, then headed for the shower.

A few minutes later, Tom came into the latrine. It was early for anyone to be up. I had a reason, I wondered what his was. He took a piss then stepped into the shower and on one three down from me.

"What're you doing up so early?" I asked.

"I couldn't sleep."

Great, if he was awake, I wondered how much he'd seen of my little fiasco.

"That must have been one hell of a dream," he said with a sly grin.

I flushed with embarrassment and tilted my face up into the shower to wash it away.

"I haven't done that since I was a kid," I said.

"It was a fuckin' whitewash," Tom said.

"I wonder who else saw."

"Anybody who was awake. It was pretty hard not to notice," he said. "That means only one thing, you know."

"What's that?"

"You're damned hard up."

"I guess so," I agreed.

"I've noticed you don't go out much since your buddy got it. It's been a tough time. Do you want to go have beer sometime?"

"Sure," I said. "Do you know Toby's?"

"Yeah. I know the place but I usually hang out at the Dragonfly. The girls are prettier there......If that matters to you," he added.

I looked at him and he was looking right at me and in that moment I think we had a private understanding. I had only to decide whether to be leery and act ignorant or trust him and jump on it. I chose the latter.

"Maybe it doesn't," I said.

"I've heard too much about Toby's," he said, his eyes unwavering.

"Me too, but I've never seen anything out of line there," I said.

"I hear they watch the place. There's just as much going on at the Dragonfly," he said.

"I expect so if the girls are prettier."

"I thought that didn't matter to you," he said.

"Sometimes it does."

I was a little uneasy yet heady with the way the conversation was going and for the first time I was thinking about sex with another guy without feeling guilty about it.

"I've noticed you noticing my butt," Tom said.

I was taken aback but tried not to show it. "You've got a mighty fine butt," I said casually.

"Interested?" he asked.

"Are you offering it?"
"It's all yours."

I couldn't believe it! "Where do you go?" I asked.

"To a little place that passes as a hotel, out on the edge of town. It's almost in the country. Six rooms. A lot of guys go there."

"And nobody watches the place with guys going in and out?"

"A lot of them bring girls. Those that don't, there are two daughters that serve as a good front."

We picked up a pass and headed out together. There was a sense of relief in not going to Toby's for a change. A sense of freedom, like I was breaking away from the pain that haunted me day and night. Somehow I knew Jason wouldn't mind that I was doing this. It would be what Jason expected me to do. It was what he would do. I thought about Steve...we'd both had him. We took a cab but Tom told the cabbie to pull over while we were well in town and we walked the rest of the way.

The place was small and rickety. I wondered how they had six rooms. I found out. Tom paid a woman some money and she gave him a six pack of beer. He led the way upstairs to a room no bigger than my space in the barracks. We walked right in, without benefit of a key.

"No keys?" I asked.

"Naw, they don't mess with locks."

"That means anybody could walk in?" I asked.

"If that bothers you, you have to put a chair against the door, but most people don't care one way or the other," he said.

There was a cot against the wall and a chair and table with a bucket of water and a metal wash basin and some towels.

"It's not much," he said as he pulled his shirt off. "That's the reason they don't watch the place.

"I don't think I'm going to mind," I said, eyeing his muscular upper body.

Tom was naked first. He laid out across the cot on his stomach, his legs cocked apart with his butt turned up so inviting it made my mouth water. In that moment I became Jason.....I was going to do the fucking..... and the guy on the bed was me. Except that I crawled between the guy's legs and buried my face in his butt. Jason would've never done that.

Chapter IX

I finished my tour in country and extended for six more months. Don't ask me why. It was just something I had to do. The job wasn't done and maybe I thought I could make a difference in six more months. Maybe I wanted to honor my buddy by serving part of his re-enlistment that he never got to. I didn't go home as I could have. I went to Hawaii instead. It was nice and I met some really hot, horny guys, but I missed Jason so much it hurt.

Jason's death took something out of me. The hate. I didn't hate the VC like I did before. They were still the enemy and I remained diligent in my job of getting information out of them but the intense hate was gone. Maybe it was because the VC hadn't killed him.

One day I found the roll of film I'd used up taking pictures of Jason. I stood at my locker holding the film cartridge tightly in my hand. I didn't know how it got buried in my shit or how I could have possibly forgot to get it developed. The next problem was where to get the film developed. I took them to a civilian photo shop and told the man that I was having them developed for a buddy of mine. I also told him the nature of the pictures and said we'd taken them so he could send them to his girlfriend. The man gave me a leering smile and nodded and said he understood.

When I went back to pick them up, the man smiled even wider.

"He very big," he said.

"Yeah, wouldn't you hate to be his girlfriend," I said.

I stopped at a little park on the way back and found a secluded bench. I was nervous opening the packet of pictures. My breath went out of me and a sudden dull pain manifested itself in my chest. I gazed at the picture on top, of Jason, shirtless, in his combat fatigues and boots and web belt. My Godd, he was beautiful. In the next one he was his briefs. How well I remembered that bulge; his manhood so heavy that it pulled the briefs down in front. The next one, he was naked. In all his glory naked. Big, muscular, so damned good looking, and......my eyes fell last at his man-hood......HUNG. His cock was a work of art in itself. I lingered over each picture till I'd sucked the very essence of him into my being. I think I was trying to bring him to life inside my own soul.

The next picture, he had a hardon. I had to laugh at the way he posed to show off his huge cock. I remembered that I'd said I needed a wide-angle lens. He joked back that the pictures would be something to show my grandchildren. He was stroking his cock in the next one. The pictures I'd taken from the back made me want to cry, he was so gorgeous. Such a magnificent butt! My mouth watered as I remembered the hours of pleasure I had derived with my face buried between those beautifully rounded, taut muscles and my tongue boring deep into his tight hole. His last pose was sitting on the chair with legs spread apart and his heavy balls hanging low. He had his thumb pressed against the base of his cock to make it stand up straight and tall. Dam, he was HUGE!

I went through the stack of photos several times before I put them away. I had to sit for a few minutes while my hardon went down. Jason would have laughed at that. Now I didn't know where I was going to keep the photos. I could use the same story I'd used with the photographer if somebody happened to find them but I didn't want to cast suspicion on myself and I wasn't sure the Colonel would buy that we'd taken them to send to Jason's girlfriend. I devised a way of hiding them. I put them in a sealed envelope and that envelope in another sealed envelope and wrote on it, "In case of my death, see that these pictures are sent to the address on the inner envelope. The address was one I'd taken from the Jason's personal stuff. It was a bold and risky thing to do but I didn't much care of some ex-girlfriend received a mysterious envelope from a deceased ex-boyfriend. I taped the envelope to the underside of my foot locker tray. About once a month, I tore the envelope off to look at the pictures again.

Somehow, word got back to the colonel.....he was a bird colonel now.....that I hadn't gone to see my family. He called me in.

"Is there a problem back home, Sergeant?" he asked. "You never took time to go back to see your family when you extended."

"No, sir, there's no problem," I said.

"Well, its damned odd behavior," he said.

"I got a taste of what they think of us back there when I took my buddy back to bury him. I don't need the crap, sir," I said.

"Does your family feel that way?"

"I don't really know for certain, sit, but they never give any indication that they're proud that I'm over here. I have to take it that they don't support our efforts."

"Well, it's your choice, Sergeant. I just wanted to see if there was something that I could help with."

"I appreciate your concern, sir." I said. "You know what, sir? After seeing the mood back home, I would've buried my buddy over here if there was a place. He would've been more at home here."

"I expect a lot of them would. It's just too bad we don't have something like the cemetery at Normandy over here."

I extended for a second six-month tour. Again, I didn't go home to see my family. Toby cautioned me to go home for good after my second extension was up before I ended up like he had. I didn't see how that would be so bad. I'd heard that a lot of guys were taking their discharge and staying in country. My life was pretty much run-of-the-mill Marine issue.....do the job, eat, drink, sleep and have sex. Not necessarily always in that order. I couldn't get past Jason's death. I missed him every minute of every day and night. The nights were the worst because there was time to remember. More than once buried my face in the pillow and quietly cried myself to sleep. I missed him so much it hurt.

One night I met up with Jack Burnside at Toby's; he was the soldier who came up to me in the church when Jason died. He recognized me right away and came up to the bar.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, putting out his hand.

"Still hanging in there," I said. He had big hands, and the way those long, thick, strong fingers wrapped around mine sent a chill through me for some reason. He asked if he could join me and took the stool beside me without waiting for answer. I bought his beer.

"I thought you steered clear of Toby's," I said.

He shrugged. "I decided to take a chance. I've heard some interesting things about the place."

I thought it was an odd thing to say. Maybe he was trying to tell me something. I didn't pursue it but I left my options open and let my guard down. He asked how I was doing......really, like he was concerned how I was doing.

"I'm doing okay," I told him.

"I remember you were taking it pretty rough," he said.

"It's still rough," I said.

"I know how that is. Just don't work to hard trying to get over it. Let it work itself out," he said. "Its hard teaming up with anybody else, isn't it, when you loose somebody that close?"

"Yeah."

"I never did.....still haven't," he said. "Its like I'm lost out here somewhere."

"Sometimes I feel like a zombie," I said.

"Yeah, I know what you mean....like you're not really alive, just going through the motions. Makes it easier when you can talk to somebody who's gone through the same thing."

I nodded. He was sounding philosophical, which surprised me.

"Hey, I've got a place if you wanta come with me," he said.

Another surprise. I couldn't gauge what was behind his invite but I was curious enough to want to find out.

"Sure," I said, and downed the rest of my beer to indicate that I was ready to go.

He hailed a cab and gave the driver an address.

"Where is this place?" I asked.

"I'll show you."

We drove through the GI district of Saigon. When the cabbie pulled into a dark alley and stopped I began to get the jitters. It was a better part of town but it was still a dark alley. Jack paid him and we got out. The cab sped away like he was running away from something. He let us through a tall wooden gate in a small but beautiful garden. It was almost surreal, so peaceful and serene.

"Right up these stairs," Jack said, leading the way along a path between well manicured bushes. Up the stairs he unlocked the door and held it open for me to go in first.

"Welcome to my little corner of Saigon," he said as he closed the door and locked it.

"Your little corner? This is not a hotel, is it?"

"No. It's a place I keep to get away from the insanity out there," he said.

There was absolutely no trace of the war. It was a large room with comfortable, not-cheap furniture, with wall hangings and sconces with candles. There was a state-of-the-art stereo system, and built-on shelves holding a small library of books. In one corner was a kitchenette and beyond that I could see a bathroom. Jack opened the French doors that opened up onto a balcony overlooking the garden.

"This is damned civilized," I said. All the while I was wondering how he managed to have such a place....how he afforded it. But maybe he came from money.

"It's a place to come," he said.

"This is all yours?" I asked.

"Well, it's rented," he said. "Everything in it is mine."

"It looks like you're planning on staying awhile," I said.