Coming Home

Thankfully, she decided to turn the page, "How many eggs?"

"I guess four, fried, over easy. Don't break the yolks, and I don't like them runny."

She saluted, "Yes sir!"

"Cut it out," I said. "I was never an officer."

She'd already turned around. I took the forms and stuffed them away. I figured later I would burn or throw them all out. I was supposed to take the stuff with me and report to the reserve unit in Laurel, but now I figured I wouldn't bother. I'd done my duty. I had a life to get on with. Besides, I knew what they were up to in Laurel. They were connected to Military Intelligence, and no way was I getting into that.

'Geez,' I thought, 'how am I going to explain the Article Fifteen that I got in Germany? I was in the hospital. They left me alone. I snuck out, stole a car and drove over to... somewhere, some city. No money, wearing scrubs, I guess I got a little rowdy at some bar. They called the M.P.s. I got in a fight, got hit again, got hauled back to the hospital. They said I should have been court martialed, but the doctors were scared they'd get in just as much trouble as me, so they dropped it to an AR15.'

I heard the eggs sizzling. Sarah leaned around and asked, "If you don't show up at Laurel, wouldn't that make you AWOL? You could go to prison for that you know."

'Shit,' I thought. 'The little scamp's always manipulating something or someone. I smiled, "You like to play chess don't you."

"No," she answered, "boring game. You want your bacon crispy or soggy. I remember you were a soggy."

"Soggy is good"

Sarah started singing something. I didn't recognize it at first, then I did; we said it was our song when we were in high school. I vaguely remembered, it was something by Faith Hill, 'There You'll be', yeah, dumb and syrupy. Sarah used to sing in the church choir. I wonder if she still does. I sat down and watched her as she cooked. I thought about who I was and what I'd been doing. I think she was having the same kind of thoughts.

I remember when I got home, went away, and then came back. I had been thinking Sarah's this college graduate; she deserves someone who is on her intellectual level. What was I? I was a veteran with virtually no meaningful skills, and certainly no cultural base. Sarah's a literature graduate; she's got Jane Austen, Ernest Hemingway, and all those people, not to mention women like Emily Dickenson. What do I have? Oh yeah, I have Rambo. That's it, me-Sylvester Stallone. Hey Adrian! What kind of life could I offer her? I knew, even now, sitting at the table my mom bought me I've got rien! Omniglot! Nothing!

Sarah came over with two plates. We sat down. After a brief grace I asked her, "Tell me Sarah, why is it you haven't nailed down someone for husband, and why are you still working at Walmart?"

She ignored my questions, "Why'd you buy the pistol?"

"What pistol?"

"Don't kid me, Travis. Mr. McAllister at Duffy's called your parents. You bought a gun just before you went on your big trip. Why'd you buy it? What were you going to do with it?"

Duffy's was the local gun shop. Mr. McAllister worked there. I'd bought a Berretta just before I left to tour the country. I could not honestly say why I bought it; just seemed like the thing to do at the time. Maybe I thought about becoming a statistic like those doctors at Fort Sam said I'd be. I didn't know. I stuffed some egg in my mouth and deliberately starting talking with my mouth full. I knew Sarah hated that, "Look I don't know why I bought it. I was going west. People get robbed when they're out alone. I thought maybe I needed protection." I tried to shift the conversation, "So why are you still at Walmart?"

She put her fork down, "Don't pretend to act like an animal. Eat properly or I'll tell your mother." Then she laughed, "I have a better job coming. You remember Mrs. Shockley at our elementary school?"

I nodded, "Yes, I do."

"She's retiring after the first term this year, and I've already been hired. I'll be taking over her first-grade responsibilities at the end of January."

I shoveled some egg in my mouth. I was more careful, "That's great. You won't be stacking shelves for $9.00 an hour anymore."

She laughed softly, "I'm not sure I'll be making that much more."

I didn't smile, "That's a problem isn't it. We don't appreciate our teachers; we don't pay our teachers, police, or firemen enough, but we'll pay some jerk-off ten million dollars to throw a football."

She put her fork down, "We don't appreciate a lot the things." She chuckled, "It's not so bad. I know my parents will want me to move out so I'll have to find a place to stay. I'll have good healthcare, but there'll be other expenses like the car insurance my dad has been covering."

I used a piece of bread and my fork to sop up some of the loose yolk. I was careful; back in the day when I was in the army, I would've just used my fingers for sopping, but I wanted to remind Sarah I still had my manners. One reprimand was enough. I asked again, "What about your love life?"

She smiled broadly, "There's Denny."

I pushed my plate back, "Jesus, Denny Miles."

She was kind of blithe about the whole thing, "He's a nice guy Travis, and his family has money."

"Sarah," I started, "that creep hasn't put in an honest day's work his entire life, and I'm not real sure he would be all that faithful."

Sarah sopped some yolk. I noticed she used her fingers, and that made me feel better. She said, "Jarvis Castleman wants to take me out."

"Oh God," I countered, "Castleman? Jesus Christ, he's worse than Miles!"

"I wish you wouldn't take the Lord's name in vain, and about Jarvis Castleman; I don't know," she squeezed out a phony smile, "He's got a good job, and he just started night school over at Salisbury. He could be a keeper. He's very handsome too."

"Damn it, Sarah. Anybody can sign up for night school, and that great job of his; he tends bar at the Coastal Steakhouse!"

Sarah got up to get some more bacon. She turned around, "Have you thought about night school?"

I hadn't but I answered, "Why, yes I have."

"Anything in particular?" she asked.

I was getting in over my head. I lied some more, "I thought about taking some business courses."

Sarah replied, "That's a good Idea Travis." Then she handed me another one of her outrageously beautiful smiles, "They have an excellent four-year program. You'd do well, and with your current enterprise you would be way ahead of the game."

She was right, if I enrolled in their business program I would benefit from it, but that wasn't what I had on my mind, "I think you could do a lot better than Denny Miles or Jarvis Castleman."

That was when she threw me another curve ball, "What about all the languages you speak? You were good at foreign languages in high school. I remember how your mom is French and she taught you a bunch of languages even before you started school. I remember you knew Spanish, French, and were talking a little bit in Italian too.

'Damn her!' I thought. 'She just won't leave it alone.' "Yeah, my mother and father met when he was in Germany, and over there everybody has to learn more than one language. My mother said when someone learns more than one language when they're real young it's like all the languages are in one mental computer, but when people learn a second language when they're older it's like they need a whole new computer, and again another new one for each new language. So, I know a few; I can speak English, French, Spanish, German, Farsi, Mossi, Arabic, and I know a little Pashto and Kurmanji. My brother Garvin and sister Glenna also know several languages, but you know that."

I was hoping she wouldn't go any further with my mother; she'd disappeared for several years around the time I turned eight. Later she came back home all sorry and everything; it seemed she had met some guy from Belgium or someplace and thought, for a while anyway, we weren't what she wanted. My dad took her back, not because he loved her, which he did, but because he thought we kids still needed a mom. I'm surprised he hasn't kicked her out now that we're all grown and gone. I remember now how funny she acted just before she ran off. All our cars and dad's truck were in his name. Mom got a wild hair up her ass saying it wasn't right, that she needed something in just her name. My dad signed the title to her Camry over. A month later she lit out. She took her car and half the money they'd saved up. It broke dad's heart. When she came back she had nothing. The Belgian had cleaner her out.

Sarah looked confused, "Kurmanji?"

"It's what the Yazidi speak."

Sarah didn't know. No one knew; the girl I killed in Iraq might have been a Yazidi captive. That might have been why the terrorists were trying to use her as a bomb. God, I remember that, and God it still hurt! Had she been just another Iraqi I wouldn't have cared, but she might have been a prisoner, a slave. It had been so terrible, she looked different; she looked like me! She could have been an American. She could have gone to my high school, and she was so young, and so God damned pretty. But the worst was the way she had looked at me while she was dying; she thought I was going to save her. Those eyes, those big hazel eyes! I see her face every night! She's smiling at me; it's so sincere. Iraqis, I could've cared less. I could've killed a hundred of them. But her! That one girl. I just... I don't know. I feel so guilty. All the time I feel so guilty. She haunts me.

"Travis," she snapped her fingers, "over here. What are you thinking?"

"I lost my train of thought. What did you say?"

"I said, who should I pick, Denny or Jarvis?"

I got up to get some of the sausage. As I walked around, I said, "Neither. Who knows? I might even be available... some day."

She smiled again. God, I loved seeing her smile. She said, "I thought you were going to ask Katy?"

I scoffed, "I thought about it, but really... Katy? Come on Sarah."

She looked down and adopted one of her classic 'thoughtful poses', poses I used to like to tease her about. "I don't think I'd want to wait Travis. I mean my biological clock is ticking."

That was bullshit and she knew it, I said, "I don't think I could afford a wife right now Sarah."

She gave me a gloomy look, "That's a shame Travis. I always liked this house, and so much of what you're doing is what I dreamed about, but if you aren't interested then I'll say something to Denny the next time he brings it up."

I was flabbergasted, "He's asked you?"

"Just last night."

"What did you say?"

She said, "I told him I'd think about it."

I asked, "Have you thought about it?"

She answered, "It's a tempting offer."

I had to come up with something different. I reached in my pocket and found the damned ring. I pulled it out, "I bought this for Katy. I was going to give it to her last night. What do you think of it?"

She took the box and opened it, "You go it at Buckley's in Dagsboro."

I asked, "How did you know?"

"Eric told me."

'Christ!' I thought. 'Is there anything or anyone in this area that can keep a secret?' Eric Buckley is the owner of the Jewelry store in Dagsboro. For years it had been the only store of its type in the area. When Sarah and I were in high school we looked at some of their engagement rings. I asked, "What's wrong with it?"

"It's not what I would want," she said.

I asked, "Why? What's wrong with it?"

She answered, "For one the stone is too big. I wouldn't want a whole carat. My fingers are small. Remember, when we looked? I liked the half carat stones. Plus, it's too busy. Look at all the stuff surrounding the main stone."

I looked at the ring. I looked at Sarah. She was right, "What if I got you a half carat solitaire?"

Before she could answer a car pulled in the driveway. We both looked out. It was my mother and father. I grumbled, "Damn, that's right. They said they were going to stop by today." Back again at Sarah I said, "You better go put your clothes on. I don't want them thinking." I was at a loss for words, "You know."

She giggled. I loved to hear the sound of her sweet voice when she giggled. It was so lively. She said, "Uh oh, they'll think we're living in sin."

In my lowest voice I grumbled, "Just go get dressed."

Still laughing, she scampered off.

I thought, 'If I married her, she'd be a handful, but then all the fun we'd have.'

My dad came bursting through the door, "Nothing left to eat. Two plates I see. Who else is here?"

Sarah came out from the back; her blouse was wrinkled, no socks or shoes, and her mini wasn't completely zipped. My dad smiled broadly and with his most raucous voice proclaimed, "Ha! What have we here? Big night, huh!"

I looked at Sarah; she was blushing, I said, "It's not what you think dad."

He grinned lasciviously, "Of course not."

My mother had followed dad in and I could see she was as embarrassed as Sarah; she posted a fake smile and said to Sarah, "Come on dear. Let me help you finish getting dressed."

My dad was at my side; still exuding his trademark mischievous grin when he punched me on my arm, it hurt, and with a brilliant stage whisper, averred, "Touchdown?"

I reproved, "For Christ's sake dad, you're embarrassing Sarah."

He laughed.

I did my best to rescue the situation, "I was taking Sarah home last night, but she was sick so she stayed overnight. All we did was sleep. Nothing happened dad."

"If you say so," he said. He raised his arms above his head as though he had just scored a touchdown in the Super Bowl.

My mother came out, "Criminy son, you don't even have a bed. No wonder Sarah got sick. You had her sleeping on the floor."

"No mom," I said. "Last night was the first time Sarah slept here. She was sick. I'm sure she told you."

Sarah followed my mother out, "It's all right Travis. I explained everything. Your mother understands."

I looked at Sarah. Was Sarah setting me up? Jesus! She was! Sarah was setting me up. I exclaimed, "No!" I bellowed, "Sarah!"

My mother came over and put her arm around my waist, "Your dad and I are so happy. We always knew it would be you and Sarah."

I looked from Sarah to my mother. I thought, 'What the...' Then both my mother and Sarah burst out laughing.

Sarah delightedly, chirped, "We got you Travis's. We got you good."

At first, I sighed in half relief, but then I pounced, "That was cheap Sarah, and you mom; you shouldn't pull that kind of thing."

Now my father was confused, he said, "What's going on? I don't get it"

My mother chided, "Donald." (My father's name was Donald.) It's true; Sarah only stayed here last night because she was sick, and your son was the gentleman we raised him to be."

Dad fumbled, "They're not?"

Mother said, "I didn't say that."

I intervened, "Sarah and I did sort of bring some things up last night, but it was mostly high school reminiscences."

My father sat down, "So there's... still?"

Sarah came over and wrapped her left arm around my dad's waist, "You're so sweet."

My dad went on, "Still hope?"

I stood by solemnly, wondering if this wasn't just a little bit contrived.

Sarah grinned, "Maybe, but I doubt it."

My mother looked at me and hashed, "We only want what's best for the two of you."

I griped, "Well, thanks a lot, but I'm sure I can make my own decisions."

That's when my mother walked over and started to pull my father to the door, "Come on. We need to go shopping for a bed."

Sarah and I watched as my parents walked out and toward their car. They didn't get far though, my sister and her husband Waylon pulled in blocking my parent's car.

Sarah was on the porch waving her hand, "Hi Glenna! Hi Waylon!"

Waylon jumped out, "Hey you two. Travis, how's the truck?"

Every time we got together, he asked me the same things, "Truck's fine Waylon."

"Still got that Berretta," he asked.

"Might need it."

"Around here?"

I looked at my mom and dad. They didn't think they knew I had a pistol. We had agreed to swear off the small arms, since they were mostly only for shooting people."

My dad said, "You got a pistol?"

"Yeah, but it's no big deal."

Everyone was looking at each other and at me. It occurred to me what they might be thinking. I said, "No, you can forget it."

Sarah gave me a wan smile, "No one's thinking anything Travis."

I knew better. I saw it in their faces. I thought back to when I was at Glacier National Park. It had been an almost... that would have been a meaningful dive. I had to change the subject. I looked at Waylon and said, "Want to help me with the dry wall?"

"Tomorrow maybe," was his answer.

Sarah glanced from my mom to my dad, "Can I get a lift to Millsboro with you guys?"

My dad looked at my mom, then he looked at me, "Sure."

Sarah came over and kissed me on the cheek and whispered, "Sorry Travis."

I thought, 'Shit, just when I'd started thinking it might be her and me again, she was giving me the brush off. Yeah, her remark about Denny Miles was more than just small talk.' I smiled at Waylon and Glenna, "Want to come in and see what's been done?"

Glenna nodded negatively.

Wayland said, "No, we gotta go."

After everyone left, I went back outside and looked at the lumber. I puttered around for I don't know how long, maybe two-three hours? Nothing got done. I started thinking again, 'Did I really want to do anything? Why had I bought this old run-down piece of shit? Who the fuck gives a good damn? Sarah was most likely looking ahead to Denny Miles. Hell, her parents never gave two shits about me anyway. Who was I? I knew, just another fuck up. I looked up at the roof. It was almost four stories from the peak to the ground. Not exactly Glacier, but one good dive. I mean who cared? I was getting another headache. I could go up in the attic, climb out a window...'

My cell phone rang; it was Sarah. I picked up, "Yeah?"

She sniffed, "I'm lonely and I still don't feel good."

'Shit,' I thought. "What do you want me to do?"

Her reply, "I looked all around my mom and dad's and couldn't find any Advil or Tylenol. I'm so shaky I don't think I should drive. Maybe you could... you know."

"What, like buy some Advil and bring it to you?" I heard a burp.

After another burp she added, "Mm, and maybe you could get some cokes. My tummy hurts, and buy some donuts too"

This was too much. "OK, cokes, medicines, and donuts. Don't you think the stomach ache and donuts are kind of counter intuitive?"

"I don't care. Get some cheese and crackers. I like the cheese with the wine in it, and Ritz crackers are best. Could you bring me another of those big flannel shirts of yours? I don't want to mess up any of my parents' things if I get sick. You like cheese cake, get a cheese cake. And another pair of your sweats."

She was seriously getting under my skin, "Why don't you call Denny Miles or that Jarvis guy?" I heard her sniff again. Actually, it sounded more like a whimper.

"I don't want them," she said. "I want you."

She was making me feel like shit, "Any particular kind of donuts?" There was another burp. I heard what sounded like a sob.

She hiccoughed, "Honey dips."

I replied tenderly, "Ok, I'll be about an hour."

She sniffed again, "Could you bring me my owl too?"

"OK," I said, "I'll bring the owl too." I hung up. I got back up, got the stuffed owl, went outside, took a quick leak. I looked up at the roof and thought, 'Fortuitous phone call.'

~~V~~

I was at the Walmart outside Millsboro. I bought all the crap Sarah wanted plus a few things for myself when I ran into two of Sarah's friends, Donna Shanklin and Gracie Lawrence. Donna's the girl who had been dating Drake Asberger before he enlisted; she was currently seeing Derek Parker. They came up to me while I was in the checkout line.