Don't Ask, Don't Tell

by M. T. Pope

  “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

  Normally, I didn’t drink. My dad said liquor was the devil’s brew. I let the suggestion linger for about two seconds before I agreed to go with Lauren on post. I wanted to get away from the images in my head and thought a change of scenery might do some good.

  “Are you gonna do something to your hair before we go?” I didn’t mean any harm but she really needed to do something with the tired bun she’d been wearing since we arrived at boot camp.

  “For what?”

  “We might meet some cute guys while we’re there.” I had closed the door on my tears and was ready to have some fun for a change. The more I thought about it, the better I felt. We didn’t get much down time and I was going to make the best of it.

  “Child, please. I’m not trying to be another notch on someone’s belt. These guys probably all have girlfriends or wives at home anyway. I’m not about to allow them to put my shit on blast for fucking around with them.”

  “For twenty-one fucking days, I’ve been marching around this place looking like a dude. I don’t see anything wrong with fixin’ myself up to look like a girl and engage in some harmless flirtation.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with my battle buddy?” Lauren said, laughing.

  I rushed into the bathroom and washed my face. I combed my hair from my own hideous bun and let it flow onto my shoulders. For one night, I was going to forget about my strict upbringing and have some fun.

  “What are you drinking?” Since I didn’t drink, I had no clue what to order.

  “I’m having a Long Island Iced Tea.” We were still on the base, but could have been on another planet, because it was so foreign to me. Everyone was so relaxed and appeared to be having fun. I wasn’t used to seeing my peers in this type of environment and it was a little unsettling because there were no apparent boundaries.

  “Make that two.” It was about time I found out what all the hype was about. I didn’t expect my soul to burst into flames but I was just a little scared God would punish me in other ways.

  “Anji, be careful with these. They pack a punch that will sneak up on you if you’re not careful,” Lauren warned, but I wasn’t trying to hear her. If this drink was going to make me forget my pain, that’s what I was going for.

  “I got this, boo. You do you and let me do me.” With drink in hand, I walked away from Lauren because I needed a break. We spent so much time together, she was starting to remind me of my mother.

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” I could feel her eyes on me as I walked over to a lively game of pool on the other side of the bar. I’d never played a day in my life, but I couldn’t resist the lively banter among the men. Looking up at the ceiling, I nervously took a sip from my drink and swallowed. I was waiting for the lightning bolt that was to set my soul ablaze and when it didn’t come, I took another sip. It was so good I almost abandoned my straw, but I didn’t want to appear greedy.

  “You play?” A deep voice spoke near my ear, startling me. His breath seemed to caress my skin and caused the hair on my arms to stand up. It was like standing next to raw electricity.

  “No, I like to watch.” I felt warm all over and I couldn’t tell if it was coming from the drink or the attention. Whichever the reason, I was starting to like it.

  “Oh, you’re a voyeur?” He chuckled and clinked his glass with mine.

  He was cute and I felt myself getting hotter. I took another generous swig of my drink and practically emptied it. I tried to focus on the game but the guy was standing too close. He had to be over six feet tall and I could see his muscles straining against his fatigues. I envisioned those arms wrapped around my waist, and the visual was so powerful I got woozy.

  “Would you like another drink, beautiful?”

  I looked around to confirm who he was talking to and giggled. “Sure.”

  “Is that a Long Island?”

  “It was,” I said, laughing. I had killed the drink in less than ten minutes and my greedy behind wanted more. My eyes followed his butt as he went to order me another drink. He had a nice package and I had to force my eyes away from the tempting sight he presented. Ashamed of the sexual nature of my thoughts, I looked around to see if anyone had caught my lustful stares and locked eyes with Lauren. She was watching me like a mother hen watched her chicks. This annoyed me for some reason, so I turned my back and slunk deeper into the shadows.

  “My name is Trace.” He handed me the glass and I took a hearty swallow over the lump that formed in my throat. He had some amazing eyes that reminded me of the muddy swamp waters of Mississippi. I felt compelled to test those waters just to see what lived underneath. He cocked his head and smiled.

  “What?” I giggled nervously. I wasn’t used to standing so close to a man but I didn’t have the willpower to move away.

  “I was waiting for you to tell me your name.”

  I felt my cheeks heat up and I was glad for the darkened room so it wasn’t as noticeable as it would have been in broad daylight. “Foster.” I ran my finger across the decal of my uniform for emphasis.

  “What, a brother can’t get a first name?”

  “Oh, right, it’s Anji.” I turned my attention back to the game but it was a lame-duck effort because my thoughts were more on Trace. I wondered what his story was but I couldn’t think of a way to ask.

  “Where you from, Anji?”

  “Jackson, Mississippi.”

  “Ah, small-town girl.” He raised his glass in a salute. I couldn’t tell if he was making fun of me and it pissed me off.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Hey, slow your roll, honey. I love me some country women and I see you’re a feisty one. I’m from Jackson, Tennessee myself so we’re practically neighbors.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m so used to being teased by the girl in my barracks I assumed you were going to do it too.”

  “I feel you. I’ve taken my share of shit too. I don’t know why people tend to think country folk are slow. I could outthink any of them bastards in my unit.”

  I didn’t particularly care for the cuss words but I understood where he was coming from. But, then again, men cussed, even my father did it a time or two, but he normally followed it with a “Lord, forgive me.”

  “We may be small but we ain’t slow.” I raised my glass to his. I didn’t remember drinking the rest of my drink so I was surprised when he handed me another.

  “I don’t know if I should have another. I’m starting to feel it.”

  “You’re in good hands, homie, I got you.” He stepped closer but I wasn’t afraid. It was starting to get warm so I rubbed the glass over my forehead. The ice in my glass cooled my head.

  “Is it hot in here?” I didn’t notice the music playing when we first got to the bar but it got my attention as I allowed my hips to sway to the music.

  “It is kinda warm. Would you like to step outside and get some air?” Trace’s lips touched my ear as he spoke. It was loud inside the bar but it really wasn’t necessary for him to be all up in my personal space like he was.

  “We won’t be able to hear the music.” I was feeling good but I wanted to feel better. I raised my glass in the air and danced like I was alone in my bedroom. Daddy didn’t approve of dancing; he thought it was sinful to dance unless you were praising the Lord.

  “You looking good, ma.”

  Trace’s voice sounded huskier. I’d have been lying if I said it didn’t turn me on. I felt so sexy as I envisioned all eyes on me. I was doing a slow turn when my stupid feet got tangled and I felt myself falling. It happened so quickly I didn’t have time to prepare.

  “Whoa, you all right there, shorty?” Trace pulled me from behind before I could make a fool of myself. He cinched me in close to him and steered me toward the door. I was too dizzy to protest so I leaned against his arm as he lead me away.

  “Hey, Anji, you ready to go back to the barracks?” Lauren gr
abbed my other arm firmly and pulled me away from Trace. Her fingers dug into my arm and I could feel the muscles in her fingers daring me to resist.

  “Oh hey, Lauren. Meet my friend ...” My mind drew a complete blank. The man’s name was entrenched in my muddled head and I couldn’t get it out my mouth. My voice sounded strange, as if I were talking in a tunnel. He did not look pleased.

  “Oops, I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.” I laughed at my own silliness.

  “Sorry, you have to excuse my buddy. She doesn’t drink and apparently has had too much.”

  “Did you see me dancing, Lauren?”

  “Yeah, I did. Now let’s get you back to your bunk to sleep this off.”

  “I don’t want to go to my bunk, I want to stay here with what’s-his-name.” I yanked hard on my arm but Lauren wasn’t giving up.

  “The name is Trace and if she wants to stay, I’ll make sure she gets back.”

  “Trace? I knew a guy by the name of Trace before.” I was floating on a cloud of happiness and I wanted Lauren to go away so I could have me another one of those wonderful drinks.

  “That’s ’cause you just met him, you idiot, now come on before you do something you’ll regret in the morning.”

  I didn’t appreciate the way Lauren was manhandling me. I was grown and she was treating me like a naughty child.

  “Stop it. You’re hurting my arm.” Even though I knew Lauren’s intentions were good, I wasn’t ready to go back to my bunk. I wasn’t ready to think about what caused me to get drunk in the first place.

  “Part of me wants to say fuck it and leave your ass right here but I’m not getting into trouble because of you. Now if you don’t bring that ass, I’m going to punch you the fuck out and drag you. The choice is yours.” She let go of my arm but didn’t step away. Trace had gone so I didn’t have much of a choice but to go with Lauren.

  “Fine, fuck it. Let’s go.” I started marching like I was in formation until I realized what I said. I stopped.

  “Two sins in one night. I’m going straight to hell.” I felt like crying and I probably would have if all eyes weren’t on us as we marched out of the bar.

  Chapter 7

  Lauren Burns

  After last night’s debacle, two things were abundantly clear to me: I was head over heels in love with my battle buddy and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Falling in love was not part of my plan and I was going to have to find a way to deal with it. Being confined in close quarters was proving to be too much for me to handle. During the entire walk home, Anji babbled about going to hell for cussing and drinking. If she weren’t so serious, it would have been comical. If she felt this way about cussing and drinking, she’d probably bust a blood vessel if she knew how I was feeling about her.

  “If God sent folks to hell because of a little cussing and drinking, he’s going to need more space ’cause that bitch is going to be crowded as a motherfucker.”

  “You can laugh if you want to but I don’t want to be standing next to you when that lightning bolt comes from the sky and knocks you down.”

  She was killing me. She acted as if she had God on speed dial but the God I served had much more serious issues to deal with than a little cussing and drinking. “I’m not making fun of God, I’m making fun of your interpretation of His words.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I had to keep reminding myself she was drunk. We were alone in the barracks but her voice was a little loud for normal conversation.

  “I’m saying that too many people construe the Word of God for their own benefit instead of applying the principals of His Word to their lives. Why do you think there are so many different types of churches and doctrines if there is only one God?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of false prophets?”

  “So who decides which one is telling the truth? That’s my problem with most of the churches I have visited. Why should I believe the man who is standing before the congregation, proclaiming to be God’s messenger while lining his pockets with money, instead of relying on His own words to guide me?”

  “I’m not going to stand here and listen to this blasphemy. God chooses His messengers.”

  “Okay, if that’s the case then why are there so many and why are they saying different things? How do you know they are truly messengers from God? Unless you were listening on the line when they got the call, you don’t.”

  I never talked about my religious beliefs to anyone, but now that I was on a roll, I couldn’t stop. “Did you ever play this game in school where everybody got in line and one person was to whisper a sentence to his neighbor, and each person passed on the message, but by the time the story got to the last person it was not anything close to the original sentence?”

  “Yeah, but ...”

  “There is no ‘but,’ Anji. I believe that’s what is happening in our churches today.”

  “Our pastor encourages us to read the Word and attend Bible Study.”

  “Most pastors do, but at the end of the day, the congregation looks to the pastor to decipher and clarify what you’ve read. Don’t you see it’s the same thing as that stupid game if you don’t seek the truth for yourself ?” I didn’t know why it was so important to me that she understood where I was coming from, especially since I never bothered to tell another soul how I felt, but it was.

  “I don’t even know why we are having this conversation. My head is killing me.” Anji staggered from her bunk, going to the bathroom.

  “God gave us choice and free will, Anji. It was a gift and we should treasure it. If He wanted us all to be the same, He would have made it so we were incapable of changing it.”

  “What are you talking about now? This isn’t still about religion, is it?” I could tell she was getting angry even though her voice was kind of muffled. I understood later when I heard her throwing up.

  “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m saying all this but it was pressing on my heart so I said it. Maybe it was for me more so than you, but something told me you needed to hear it too. Perhaps it will help you because sometimes our choices hurt the ones we love. It doesn’t make us bad people, it’s merely an exercise of free will.” I heard the shower come on but she turned it off.

  “What are you really saying?”

  “I’m not trying to dip in your business but I know you were upset after your phone call home.” I could see her pain etched in her eyes when she came out of the stall, and I fought my desire to hold her.

  “You didn’t act like you were thrilled with your conversation either.”

  I was hurt but it was an old wound and I was still trying to come to terms with it. “My dad and I have issues. We haven’t spoken to each other in years, no biggie.”

  I wasn’t ready to have this conversation with her so I was glad when she finally got in the shower. I was sure I’d never get her to understand, so I wasn’t going to try. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she’d completely taken the focus off her, and put it on me. If she acted this badly because of a cuss word, she’d probably split her wrist if she knew she was bunking next to a dyke, who had fallen in love with her.

  As our time at basic training was nearing the end, our exercises were more dangerous and intense but not everyone was able to handle this amped-up version of training. Tempers were already flaring so it didn’t take much provocation for the slightest infraction to escalate into a straight-up, hair-pulling brawl. I think the fighting kept us sane, and the hardest part was doing it without getting caught. We could kick each other’s asses in the shower and go to chow acting like long-lost buddies. Some handled these transitions better than others.

  Most of our barrack fights happened after mail call but today was a little different. The ladies were already disgruntled from our sensitivity training, so I understood my part in the fight even before it began. The training caught me off guard because I thought I knew everything when it came to training to be a solider. When we were forced to
watch a slideshow presentation about homosexuals in today’s army, I found it invasive and offensive. As I sat among my peers, I felt myself getting angry and I had no idea what I was going to do with those emotions.

  Perhaps if I had known ahead of time there would be an open discussion on the matter, I would have been better prepared. But then again, probably not, because I believed sexual preference was a private affair and not something that should be dissected in a boardroom by a bunch of crabby-ass dickheads who knew nothing about which they spoke. I was appalled at the way the army chose to handle this situation because common sense told me that if you force feed someone something they didn’t want to eat, instinctively they gag and throw it back up, leaving a hot-ass mess on the table.

  As we marched back to the barracks I tried to ignore the comments and the crude jokes because I knew they were tempered by the gag reflex, but it was hard, probably the hardest thing I had to do since I got there.

  “That’s some bullshit right there. I wish a bitch would try to run up on me. I ain’t telling shit; I’m just gonna lay the bitch out,” one person bragged.

  “Yeah, I will beat that carpet-munching skeezer like she stole something,” another joked back.

  “And if I catch a bitch looking at me sideways, I’m gonna shoot her and claim it was an accident while I was cleaning my gun.” It seemed like the whole platoon was laughing and there wasn’t a damn thing funny. I walked faster so I could get away from the bullshit.

  “Lauren, wait up!” Anji shouted. She was busy clowning with the rest of the girls and I didn’t feel like being bothered. I wanted to get as far away from those people making ignorant comments as I could. I allowed Anji to catch up but it was big mistake.

  “So what do you think?” She looked like a puppy about to pee on herself with excitement.

  “About what?” I knew exactly what she was talking about but I dreaded discussing it with her, or anyone else for that matter.

  “The briefing, silly, what else? Do you think they will put one of them homosexuals in our unit?”