Old Wounds Ch. 01

That thought got me laughing as I pulled on my boots and made my way out the door towards the barn and little ways down the walkway. I didn't have much left to do on the truck, and my brother didn't know it was going to be his, so the fact that he always helped me work on it makes it a little cooler.

I hadn't been out to the barn in over a year, so to say I was shocked when I walked in and found the engine on the stand and already broken down and the cab and bed sitting on the ground with the frame hallways sanded down would have been an understatement.

Just as I was about to take a step towards the truck my little brother Kyle came walking from the bathroom. I didn't even know he was home, let alone out here or I would have come out sooner. He and I always got along pretty good. None of that brother rivalry that usually happens. I guess it was because of the age difference.

Kyle wasn't planned, I still remember when Mom found out she was pregnant again. Just because he was a surprise doesn't mean he wasn't loved, hell I think they loved him more than me, but who's keeping track?

"The fuck did you do to my truck Runt?" I scolded him, hiding the fact that I was actually happy he did it.

"Damnit Matt, you scared the shit outta me."

"Don't let momma hear you talk like that or I'll have to whoop you for her." I laughed, "now, what the fuck did you do to my truck?"

"Well, I know you've wanted it to run for a long time, and since you're always gone I figured I'd try to finish restoring it for you as a surprise, but I guess that's ruined now." He mused.

"Well fuck Runt, how much you got into this old thing?"

"So far, about a grand, but Dad paid for it since I told him I was working on it for you as a surprise."

"Bull shit you only got a grand in it."

"It's the truth. Just went out and bought a blown out truck with a good motor and I've been pulling parts off it."

"Maybe you ain't all lost yet. There might be hope." I said with a laugh, walking over to see what he'd been up to.

"So frames near sanded, just gotta finish that up then powder coat it, which will be the only expensive thing on this restore other than paint since we can do our own body work."

"Kid, I'm gonna teach you how to paint a truck then."

"I've seen your truck, I'd rather this one actually look good." He shot back as he was trying to dodge my punch to his shoulder.

"What else we got left after that?"

"Just a little body work, finish putting together the motor, then slap it all back together. Should be easy. I was hoping to get it done before you got back, but you had to go and get shot to shit."

"I'm so sorry my injuries inconvenienced you." I said feigning insult.

"For real though Matt, we're all happy you made it out alive."

When he saw the look I gave him he knew what was about to come.

"Shit. You gotta go back don't you?"

"Maybe not. Still working on that. I'd like to get back just to finish out my contract, then I'll probably get out. Don't much like sitting stateside. I'd rather be over there with my guys, they still got nine months left."

"When's your contract up?"

"A month after we were supposed to get back. That'll be my four, then I'll be IRR for the rest."

"Just don't die on my Matt. I'd rather you be alive."

"Me too." I said with a chuckle.

The rest of the afternoon went pretty quickly. With the two of us we were able to make quick work of the frame, and since we didn't have the stuff to powder coat it at the moment, we settled for working on the engine.

With two guys who know mostly what they were doing, we had the bottom end of the motor done, cleaned, and put back together and all we had left to do was clean the top end, and slide the heads and pistons in, and powder coat the rest of it.

The truck wasn't complicated at all. It was a seventy-eight ford we were going to put a Cummins twelve valve into, backed up with a six speed manual trans. It was definitely going to be a sweet ride, that was for sure. I almost wished I could keep it for myself, but I had already set my sights on giving it to Kyle. Hell, I could always build another one.

By the time dinner rolled around I was starving. Mom said she was cooking so we best not leave the house. Mom didn't cook often, but when she did it was usually amazing. Kyle and I walked in through the garage, kicking our boots off and washing our hands in the sink that was out there.

As I opened the door I could instantly smell the spaghetti. As it turns out, it wasn't just spaghetti, but baked spaghetti. One of my childhood favorites. Kyle said grace, and before everyone else could even pick up their silverware I was going to town on my plate.

I was done way before everyone else, and that was counting my three helpings. I couldn't get enough of this stuff. Plus it's an excuse to eat way too much garlic bread. Who could turn that down?

Knowing I needed to call Katie and see what was going on with her, I excused myself from the table, took my plate to the sink, and headed back out to the barn. Tonight wasn't going to be a drinking night, but I couldn't say no to the beer nobody offered me from the fridge in the barn.

Popping the top I sat back on the beat up and dirty cloth couch that was against the wall by the table and fridge and pulled out my phone to give her a call. She answered on the first ring.

"Hi Matt!" She beamed.

"Hi Katie. Where you been?"

"Out at Grandma's. She's not doing to well Matt."

"Is it getting worse, or is it the same as the last time I saw her?"

"Probably worse..." she took a long pause. "We're not sure how much time she has left, at least how much she has left where she's still Grandma."

Her grandma had a family history of Alzheimer's disease in her family, and we'd seen it coming for years now, but apparently she still knows what's what, just forgets the short term stuff more and more. I lost my grandma a few years prior to the same thing so I knew what she was dealing with.

"Is she at the 'where did I put that' stage or the 'who are you' stage?"

"The where did I put it. It's just getting worse as the weeks go by. We're guessing by this time next year she won't know who we are so I've been trying to spend as much time with her as I can."

"Good. You know that's my only regret of joining. Not being able to be there."

"Speaking of that, what time is it over there? It's gotta be late. You need the sleep soldier." She said with a laugh.

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm actually home."

There was just silence on the other line. I would have assumed my parents would have told them I was wounded and in a coma, but I guess since it was medically induced and I had a very high chance of survival they didn't tell anyone, especially since I was out of it so soon. It's still weird though, since all my buddies are pretty much family.

"Katie?"

"You're home?"

"I am. I'm in the barn right now."

"Fuck, I'm turning around then, I just passed your road."

"You're coming over?"

"You bet your ass I am. I haven't seen you in a year asshole." She joked.

"Well hey, you know where to find me then. I'll have a cold one ready for you."

"You better."

With that she hung up. I put my now empty bottle down on the table and stood to grab another. As I was sitting down I was digging into my shirt pocket to pull out my pack of smokes and a lighter and lit one up.

It wasn't long into the cigarette that I heard the door burst open and I stood to set my smoke down in the ashtray and turned to meet her halfway across the barn.

Before I even had the beer down on the table she was jumping into my arms. Since the bullet hole in my leg hadn't completely healed, I buckled under her minimal weight and fell back into the couch with a grunt and her still on me.

"Oh my god Matt I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to catch you off guard like that."

"No it's totally fine, I was ready, I guess I'm still a little further from healed than I thought."

"You got shot over a year ago, and you went back. How are you not healed?"

Man I really was a shitty friend. I had my own reasons for leaving like I did, my own demons to chase, but they were still my friends. I should have kept them in the loop.

"No not those bullet holes, the new ones." I said, making sure to laugh to let her know I was ok.

"New ones?!" She all but yelled.

"Yep. Last I checked the only way to get out of a year long deployment nine months early is to get either shot or blowed up. I somehow managed to do both." I joked, truly not wanting her to worry.

She rolled off of me and stood to go grab a beer out of the fridge. I took the time to reach out and grab my beer off the floor, surprised to find that barely any had spilled and pick my cigarette out of the ash tray so I could finish it.

I knew her question before she even asked it. She popped the top on her beer and sat down to look at me. I took a long drag on the smoke and crushed it out in the ashtray and turned to look at her. Taking a long pull on the beer I started.

"We were helping out a SF unit, covering their FOB while they were out on mission. We got hit pretty hard. We were ready for it. It was expected. What we weren't ready for was the size of their attack. They never attack like that. We were overrun. It was hand to hand. Everyone was screaming, whether it was in pain or in rage, well that varied person to person. Eventually I was shot a few times and something exploded right by me, knocking me out and sending sharpenal into me in a few places. I got lifted out by a chopper and sent to the hospital. They fixed me up good but had to put me in a coma for a week or two to let the swelling in my head go down and to let my body heal without me trying to force it to."

She was speechless. I could see a tear starting to form in the corner of her eye. Why was she sad? It's not like I died or anything. I'm still alive. What's there to cry about? Right when I was about to ask her about it, she smothered me in a huge bear hug.

"God damnit Matt you need to tell us these things. Here we are thinking everything is ok, when you're laying in your own blood."

"Katie, it's all fine now. I'm not dead." I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"What If it isn't next time? What if you don't make it?"

"Then I don't make it I guess." I couldn't help but laugh.

I had to duck to dodge her slap. I guess she didn't like the joke. I should have guessed. I guess it's just something that's never bothered me. When you join, you know you could die. When you get deployed, you know you could die. When you go out on mission, then you REALLY know you could die, especially when you're getting shot at.

"Katie, I haven't seen you in a year. Let's just get off the heavy stuff and catch up over a few beers hey?"

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot. I missed you Matt."

With that I got up to grab us each a new beer. While I was doing that she got up and walked over to Kyle's truck. She'd been helping me on it since I bought the thing all that time ago, so she was just as surprised as I was to see it this far along.

She wasn't a mechanic by any means, but she knew what was what and was always down to help me out when I was working on something or other. I missed those days back in high school. Back when it was just careless fun, all of us running around and doing what we wanted, either with our parents permission or behind their backs hoping we didn't get caught.

So why did I leave? Why did I throw all that away by joining the army? I kept telling myself I had my own reasons for leaving, my own demons, but the more I think about it, maybe I was just scared of it all coming to an end. Scared of everything changing once we graduated. I just assumed everyone would move and go on to their own things, but I never asked them about it. Next thing you know I've been gone for years, barely talking to my friends, with countless bullet wounds.

Maybe it was time I got back overseas, finished out my contract, and came home. Spend some time with my lifelong friends that I've been ignoring. Maybe find a woman and settle down. I know Ma would love grandkids.

As my mind was running wild with all these thoughts, I looked over to Katie and saw her reaching for my pack on the table. She was like Allison, didn't smoke, but would have one now and then, and I guess she deamed this as an acceptable time. Reaching for the pack myself I pulled one out, and lit hers, then mine. I took a long drag and raised my beer.

"To old friends, old wounds, and new beginnings."

* thank you for reading. I hope you like the new story. It'll Never Happen is not done, so don't give up on it yet. Leave a comment and let me know what you want to see next and I'll see what I can do.*