by Jeff Holmes
“Me too.”
They rolled through Junction City. Scott knew what was next. For the first time in 300-some miles, they both went quiet.
Dead ahead on a high bluff, a 105mm cannon sat pointed west. The interstate snaked slightly left and as it did, the outer reaches of Fort Riley came into view. There was an exit onto the base and a huge grassy field spread for a half-mile in every direction. The sight brought Scott back to a degree of reality for moment. For five of the most glorious days of his life, he was as far from the Army as he could get. But there it was again.
“The exit is up here, babe.”
Roni was pointing to a sign that read, “Ogden-Manhattan.”
Driving up a hill, Scott peeled off onto the ramp. K-18 crossed over the interstate, and angled them to the northeast.
“That’s Ogden over there,” Roni said. “It looks like half the town is trailers.”
“Kind of like St. Robert was, probably, only without hotels and restaurants. Just a shit-hole Army town.”
“There’s the airport,” Scott said as they went a little further. “Guess I didn’t think about them having one that big.”
“God , Footer, there’s a big-assed Army base and Big Eight university here. Were you picturing a big-assed bus station?”
“Actually, that would be really funny.”
“Good thing you got that ring on me,” Roni said, rolling her eyes. “Now I’m trapped.”
“My plan worked to perfection.”
They came over a hill with a rocky limestone bluff on their left. As they passed it, the town of Manhattan spread out before them to the north and east.
Home.
****
CHAPTER 17
Once they unloaded their bags in the sixth-floor room at the Ramada Inn at the corner of 17th and Anderson that overlooked old Memorial Stadium, Ahearn Fieldhouse and the student union, Roni took Scott to the union to pick up another rental listing book.
“The new ones come out today,” she said as they crossed Anderson Avenue. She signed up in May to have them sent to her in Wild Horse every week, but they were usually three days late by the time she received them.
“Looks like a lot of complexes and they’re a ways from campus,” Scott said as he looked at the listings, then at the street map on the wall. “We don’t want a complex, do we?”
“Only in desperation,” Roni said. “I want to be close, if it doesn’t cost a fortune.”
“And as loud as you can be at certain times, we’d probably get evicted.”
“Speaking of which,” Roni chimed in, “let’s go back to the hotel. You have a ravaging coming, boy!”
Roni stepped out of the bathroom naked, brushing her teeth as Scott lay back on the disheveled covers of the bed. As usually happened after the most intense of their love-making, sometimes it took a bit for his body to catch up to his brain.
“OK there, Footer?” Roni grinned through the toothbrush.
Scott rolled over and looked at the clock on the table, which read 5:45 PM. They had made 7:00 reservations at Houston Street, an up-scale bistro in Aggieville, K-State’s “campustown,” so Scott had a little time to recover before hitting the shower.
“You absolutely drain me sometimes, Cowgirl,” Scott said. “Talk about an endorphin rush.”
“That’s the difference between making love and screwing, Footer. There’s a big difference.”
“I’m learning that.”
Scott climbed off the bed. “I’m going to hit the shower. Why don’t you look at the listings and make us a call list for tomorrow.”
Scott has just begun showering off the road and Roni’s ravage, when suddenly the shower curtain flew open. Roni was standing there in her white peasant blouse and jean skirt, with a copy of the Collegian in her hand.
“House for rent. 3 bedroom. Full bath and a half, basement. Two-stall off-street parking. $350 per month, plus $350 deposit. Military preferred. Available August 1.”
“Wow,” Scott said. “Where is that?”
“On Fremont Avenue. According to the map, it’s about six blocks from here. Right off Aggieville.”
“No shit? God, Roni, call ’em.”
“Already did. We’re meeting them there at tomorrow at 1:00. Last stop on our list. Hurry up, Footer; I’m hungry!”
Thursday morning was a flurry of apartment viewing. They were all around Manhattan at different complexes. Things were starting to get testy. They decided to agree to one other place to compare to the house on Fremont. Trouble was they couldn’t agree.
Roni was drawn to a place east of campus on Bluemont. It was on the second floor with a little balcony off the living room. It had two bedrooms and a nice-sized bathroom, but not much in the way of parking.
Scott wanted a place that was close to the stadium, but a long way from central campus. It also had a balcony and better parking, but Roni hated the kitchen.
“What if we don’t like the house?” she said, exasperated. “This is our last day until September, and I don’t want to live in Junction City.”
“Let’s see what the house looks like,” Scott said. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll go back through the list again.”
Just before 1:00, Scott and Roni walked around the corner from 11th Street onto Fremont Avenue. It was a white house with a covered front porch that even had a swing. Nice looking windows and paint. The house numbers were in an old-fashioned neon-orange plastic that Scott guessed lit up. So far, he was impressed.
“His name is Jack and hers is Esther,” Roni said. “Guessing he’s ex-military. He said they were cleaning this place up after the last tenants and didn’t sound too enthused about it.”
“You should be a detective, babe. Anything else?”
“I’m guessing he’s about 5-7 with a crew cut and he’s wearing bib overalls.”
“Oh?” Scott said, giving her a sarcastic eye. “What do you base that on?”
Jack Simmons walked down the front steps; about 5-7 with a crew cut and wearing bib overalls, with an older lady in a housedress pausing on the porch. Scott and Roni took hands and walked toward him.
“Jack Simmons,” he said. “Thanks for coming over!”
Scott stuck out his hand and they shook hands, “Scott Mitchell. This is my fiancé, Roni McIntyre.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Jack said. “Ms. McIntyre, you are as lovely as you sounded on the phone.”
“Why, thank you,” she said, giving him that beautiful smile. “Thanks for seeing us.”
“We wanted to get this done as soon as we can,” said Esther, who introduced herself as she came down the steps. “Please come in.”
The house was small, but within seconds of walking in the door, it felt very homey to Scott.
There was a small entry way with coat hooks on one wall and a small closet on the other. A roomy living room took up most of the front room, with a dining area through an arch to the right.
“We’ve been painting and cleaning things up since the last ones moved out,” Jack said. “There were four of them supposed to live here, but ended up with about six most of the time. Some things got a little trashed.”
“Oh, it looks very nice,” Roni said. Scott decided to defer to her on most of the house decisions. She had the eye for this kind of thing. “You said you’ve been painting.”
“Painting, plastering, cleaning carpet,” Esther was saying. “Four college boys. Never again.”
The kitchen sat behind the dining area. The stove looked fairly new, and fridge was nice sized, but instead of white it was coppertone with a freezer on the bottom. “We could get a little dining room table for right there,” Roni said, pointing to the dining area. “Esther is this an electric or gas stove?”
“It’s gas, honey, we just put it in,” Esther said. “Those boys wrecked the old one.”
“Apparently, they got drunk and tried to bake a turkey,” Jack said.
“How did that do it?” Scott asked.
“It wasn�
��t dead yet, son,” Jack replied with an exasperated smile on his face.
Down a short hall were two small bedrooms and a nice-sized bathroom. It was probably bigger than either bedroom.
“The bedrooms aren’t very big,” Esther was saying. “That’s why we redid the upstairs.”
Between the bathroom door and the kitchen was another door. Ten steps up and around a corner was the upper level. Everything was dry-walled with a finished ceiling. The floors were hardwood. Two long closets flanked either side of the room. Opposite the stairs was a two-window dormer. The area was huge, covering the entire floor space of the house. There was even a bathroom with a big shower stall.
“It’s beautiful, Jack,” Roni was saying. She was absolutely glowing at this point. “Footer, look at this. This could be our bedroom. Look at the closets and we could put my art supplies and design board right here (under the dormer).
“Scotty, I love it.”
“Good enough for me,” Scott said. “Let’s talk.”
The four went back down the stairs to a card table and four chairs set up in the living room.
“Well,” Jack said as they all sat down. He pulled out a Camel straight and lit it with a shiny gold Zippo. “We own this house and the one next door. Three K-State girls live there. I’m retired military, came out a Command Sergeant Major five years ago. Was on Normandy Beach, Inchon and Khe Sahn. Came back to Kansas to retire, grow old and become a slum lord.”
The last part he said with a laugh, but Scott was in awe; not only three wars, but three of the toughest battles in each of those wars. This guy was no slouch.
“We just got engaged and we’re getting married on New Year’s Eve,” Roni said. “I start at K-State second semester in the interior design program.”
“I’m between sessions of AIT at Fort Sam Houston,” Scott said. “I’m a PFC now, but when I’m done at Fort Sam, I’ll be a Spec 4 and an EMT and I’ll be assigned to MEDDAC full-time and 1st Air part-time.”
“A doc at the hospital!” Jack said. “Hear that Esther? Just what we need; someone to take good care of us.”
“Well, I’ll be in the ER most of the time, but I’ll see what I can do,” Scott answered.
“As often as he cuts himself or drops things on his foot, you’ll probably see him more than either of us would like,” Esther quipped.
Jack paused and shuffled some papers. He leaned over and said something to Esther.
“So you two are interested?” he asked.
Scott nodded, but Roni spoke up. “We are very interested. We’ve been looking all morning and haven’t found anything even close to this. And we agreed on nothing.”
“Would you be able to move in August 1?” he asked.
“Well, the plan wasn’t for us to move until Labor Day weekend,” Scott said. “I’m not done with AIT until 21 August.”
Jack frowned, then looked down. “We really like you two. But we really wanted to get it rented August 1, and we have people interested for that date,” he added.
Roni shot Scott a look. He nodded. “We’ll pay the extra month, Jack.”
“Jack,” Roni said, “I already know this is the house I want to walk into at the end of the day. I already know this is the house I want to wake up in every day. I already know this is the house I want to wake up with my husband with every day.”
Jack looked at Scott. “Anything to add, son?”
“Sgt. Major, I would never assume to debate Roni,” Scott said. “Especially when she’s right.”
Jack stood up and offered Scott his hand. “Come by after supper and we’ll have a lease ready for you to sign.”
Scott shook Jack’s hand. Roni hugged him, then Esther, then finally Scott. She was crying.
“You two better hurry if you want to go see the Fort,” Jack said. “See you tonight.”
****
CHAPTER 18
After lunch, they decided to check out Fort Riley, but on the way out they swung over to the north side of campus to look at the football stadium. KSU Stadium was not much to look at. It looked like an overgrown high school stadium, a pile of bleachers sunk into the ground. The smallest college press box they’d ever seen sat on top of the west stands. On one end was a building they assumed to be locker rooms.
“This is a Big Eight stadium?” Roni asked. “This is pretty sad.”
“It’s no Folsom Field,” Scott said, indicating Colorado’s home stadium.
“It’s barely Stampeder Field,” Roni said, indicating their high school field.
“Yeah, but at least the tickets will be cheap.”
”You’re not getting creeped out, are you?”
“No. But it is amazing how things look alike.”
They had driven through the Fort Riley gate where it connected to Ogden. Scott’s assessment was right; trailer parks, tattoo parlors, seedy bars, pawn shops, and liquor stores.
“Shit-hole Army town is right,” Roni said. “Why would anyone live here?”
“It’s cheap. ‘Bout the only reason I can think of.”
“It’s a different world, isn’t it?
“Very different. I’m hoping the hospital company is a little closer to us than other places.”
A couple of miles in, on the right, a tall building rose before them. Letters on the top read “Irwin Army Hospital.”
They pulled in a side driveway to the back of the building. The hospital was in an “L” shape, rising six floors. The parking lot they pulled into was next to a long three-story building that appeared to be the MEDDAC barracks.
They pulled around the side of the building and up into the main parking lot.
“Want to go in?” Roni asked.
“No, not yet. I know where it is at least.”
They toured around the main post; most of the buildings on the base were made of the same limestone rock. It was actually a beautiful place. They stopped at the commissary and found cartons of cigarettes for $3.00.
Roni bought 10 cartons of Marlboro Lights, while Scott bought 10 of Marlboro Menthols.
“That should hold us,” Scott said.
“That military ID is gold around here,” Roni said. “Do I get to use it too?”
“Once we’re married, you’ll get one. Then you can go here, the Main PX, any of those places.”
They drove up the road to Custer Hill and found the Main PX, a huge modern building that looked like the nicest K-Mart on earth.
“Jesus, this place has everything. And it really is cheap.”
“That’s why only active duty or dependents can shop here. Otherwise, it would be way unfair to places off post.”
They browsed through the rest of the aisles. Roni picked up some “ARMY” t-shirts, tank-tops and shorts for both of them. Eventually they found the uniform department. “God, Footer, these are so ugly. What will you wear to work?”
“Flight suits I think,” Scott answered. “I’m pretty sure it’s scrubs or a flight suit most of the time at the hospital.”
They had dinner back in Aggieville. Kite’s had cold beer and great deli sandwiches. It seemed like a big-time campus bar, but with summer school, like most campus bars, it was mostly deserted. Before dinner they had one last shopping spree, stopping at Varney’s Book Store to load up on Kansas State clothes. Scott found a couple caps he liked.
“You guys from the Fort?” asked their waitress. Her name tag read “Amanda.”
“Actually we’re from Colorado,” Roni said. “He’s in the Army in Texas right now, but he’s coming here in September. I start design school in January. We’re getting married New Year’s Eve, but we wanted to come out and find a place to live.”
“Awesome,” said Amanda. “Find something?”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “A house on Fremont.”
Amanda had a quizzical look on her face. “Fremont? Jack and Esther are your landlords?”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “Why?”
“I’m your neighbor,” she said. “We live next door!�
�
“No way,” Roni said. “Who’s we?”
“I have two roommates. This is too cool.”
“We heard the last guys were kind of a pain in the ass.”
“You heard about the turkey, right?” Amanda asked.
“Yeah.”
“That was actually mild. One night they decided to have a garbage can party. They convinced a bunch of freshmen girls it was now naked time, and pretty soon there were about two dozen naked people running around our neighborhood.”
“We’ll probably be a disappointment,” Scott said. “We’ll have parties every once in a while, but they probably won’t be naked ones.”
“Well, not totally naked,” Roni added.
“We’ll have fun,” Amanda said. “We usually have pretty good weed.”
Roni jumped up and hugged her. “My new best friend!”
Roni came out of the bathroom while Scott was lying on the bed, watching the news. She fished a Coke out of the cooler, drank part of it, then grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels off the counter and refilled the can.
She climbed on the bed, set her Coke down and climbed up on top of him straddling his hips. “Want a back rub, baby?”
“I would love one.”
Roni grabbed a bottle of baby oil off the nightstand, poured some in her hands and began working it into the muscles of Scott’s shoulders. Roni didn’t look all that powerful, but she had strong hands from years of working the horses, and she knew every inch of Scott’s body. She knew every muscle, what part needed work, what part needed a light touch.
“Mmmmm…baby that is so nice.”
“You can owe me one tomorrow night in Ardmore.”
“You got it.”
“Has it really hit you yet, Footer?”
“Which thing? Lots of things have hit me lately.”
“We have a house, Scott. We have an address. We can get those little address labels that say:
“The Mitchells
1022 Fremont Street
Manhattan, Kansas 66052!”