For Love or Country

by Jesse Jordan

Ivan thinks, then nods. “Okay. But how can round trip plane tickets be only a few hundred dollars?”

  “Because I'm planning on driving back,” I tell him, grinning. “How'd you like to do two weeks in Great Falls, then a five day road trip back to New York? I gotta get my car on post somehow.”

  “Deal.”

  I'm excited for the next few weeks to pass, and as the United flight circles above Denver International, I'm in heaven literally. Ivan and I have held hands almost constantly since we left post, and even now, our fingers are linked as we look out the window. “I can’t wait,” he says. “It’s going to be fun, and riding back to West Point in your car sounds great.”

  “Ivan, I know it’s great. But for the next few weeks, I don't even want to think about the United States Military Academy. I just want to be Christina Logan and I want to spend time with Ivan Vasushenko.”

  My smile disappears as we leave the baggage terminal, and I see Daddy standing next to his truck, waiting for us. He's not happy, his scowl is deep as hell. I guess we were too slow getting off the plane. When I go up to him to give him a hug he shakes his head, grunting. “Well?”

  I swallow my nerves, and take Ivan’s hand. “Ivan Vasushenko, this is my father, Jack Logan. Daddy, this is Ivan Vasushenko, my boyfriend.”

  Ivan's eyes sparkle when I say he's my boyfriend, but Daddy's frown deepens. “Put your shit in the back. You... Russkie... back seat. Chrissy you're up front.”

  Ivan's hand clenches, but I put a hand on his arm, shaking my head. Ivan looks at me but nods, putting our duffel bags in the bed of Daddy's truck before tying them in with bungee cords Daddy has back there. He gets into the back seat of Daddy's truck. “Mr. Logan, thank you for allowing me to stay at your place. I am very excited to see your beautiful town.”

  I look back and smile, Ivan's trying so hard, but Daddy says nothing as he starts up the truck and pulls out, heading towards I-70 and driving west. “How good's your English, boy?”

  Ivan takes a deep breath, he's sitting directly behind Daddy so that we can look at each other, but he keeps his calm. “My accent is not perfect, but I can understand American English just fine, Mr. Logan. Your daughter is in fact helping me with my speaking, I'm starting to use contractions now.”

  “Lah-dee-fucking-dah,” Daddy grunts, reaching forward and snapping on the CD player. His meaning is clear, and for the next hour Ivan and I are subjected to the worst mix of good ol' boy, jingoistic crap I've ever heard, from Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue to Hulk Hogan's entrance song from his wrestling days. I'm growing more and more embarrassed as we reach the house and Daddy parks. “Here's my rules. I live by myself, my wife ran off when Chrissy was in high school. There's a bedroom for you. You and my daughter will not get up to any shenanigans in my house. Understood?”

  “I understand, Mr. Logan,” Ivan growls, his face impassive. Daddy gets out and slams his door, and Ivan looks over at me. “Nice introduction.”

  “I'm sorry, Ivan. Daddy... Daddy can be slow to warm to people. I'm sorry.”

  Ivan shakes his head, and gives me a smile. It helps, even if it is forced. “You have done nothing wrong, Christina. You do not need to apologize for your father's rudeness. Come, let's try and have a good vacation.”

  Things go okay but tense for the first week. Ivan and Daddy figure out somehow a way to stay out of each other's hair, and Ivan has enjoyed going around town with me. We go to a used car lot and I pick up my car, a five year old Honda that, while maybe not the cutest car in the world, has low miles and is super fuel efficient. As we drive home, I'm nervous, I can't help it. “Are you sure I made a good choice?”

  “You said that you wanted something economical and with a reasonable amount of miles,” Ivan says, patting the dash. “This will last you a long time, if you take care of it well. Why are you worried?”

  “Just... Daddy doesn't like foreign things,” I answer, stopping at a red light. “You notice he drives a Ford. When I was a little girl, he worked at a parts factory, they made wiper assemblies for big rigs. When I was ten the factory got shut down, everything was outsourced to Mexico. We went through a rough time then, and it took Daddy a while to get us back on our feet. Mom… we had to move when Daddy found a new job here in Great Falls.”

  Ivan nods, then looks out the window. “I told you that I do not have family that can afford for me to fly back to the Ukraine. The reality is… I do not have much family left at all. My father, he left us when I was just a small child. I have not heard from him in a decade. My mother died back at about the same time your mother left. I understand, Christina. I really do.”

  “Is that why you don't get angry with Daddy?” I ask.

  “A moment with you is worth a little bit of disrespect,” Ivan says, shrugging. “Come, the light's green.”

  When we get back to the house, Daddy is still at work, so we go inside, relaxing on the couch together. I snuggle up against Ivan as we turn on the TV, enjoying the quiet comfort of his arm around me, protectively. When I turn my head to look up at him, he's looking at me with a glow in his eyes, an amused little smirk on his sensuous lips. “I have no idea what is going on in the show. I am too distracted.”

  I raise my lips and kiss him, enjoying the closeness. His skin is warm, and after a week of the two of us enjoying the outdoors he's getting a slight tan, making his blonde hair and blue eyes stand out all the more. Feeling adventurous, I climb into his lap, our kiss deepening. “Ivan... there's time for us to make love before Daddy gets home.”

  “Hmmm, a good way to use our time,” Ivan says, kissing down my throat to the buttons on my blouse and to the well between my breasts, his hands busily unbuttoning my shirt. When he peels it open, I'm lost in the pleasure as he kisses my breasts, his lips sucking and nibbling until he lifts my right breast from the cup of the bra I'm wearing and he finds my nipple, sucking hard. I'm moaning, my body warming as I feel him grow hard underneath me, rubbing between my legs through my jeans and I pull his head to my chest and let myself be carried away in the sensations.

  Suddenly, I hear a truck door slam outside the house, and a bellow. “CHRISSY! YOU GET YOUR DUMB ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!”

  I jump up, Ivan also surprised as he adjusts his shirt and his jeans while I shove my breast back into my bra and fumble with the buttons. “Why did I have to pick a buttoned blouse today?”

  “Why is your father home so early?” Ivan asks, reaching out and helping me fix my hair. “There.”

  I lean forward and kiss him quickly, shaking my head. “Not stopped. Delayed for later.”

  “For later,” Ivan repeats, but before he can say more, there's another yell from outside.

  “CHRISSY DEAF, DUMB, AND FUCKING STUPID LOGAN! GET YOUR STUPID ASS OUT HERE NOW!”

  I leave the house, Ivan right behind me, to find Daddy staring at my car, his eyes wide with rage. “Daddy, what's wrong?”

  “You stupid, ignorant... a goddamn Jap car?” Daddy yells, pointing. “Bad enough that I gotta put up with you having a Russkie boyfriend, but the fucking car too? I've know you were stupid for a long time Chrissy, but disrespectful too?”

  “Daddy, I chose the car because....”

  “Because you're a god-damned idiot!” Daddy yells, his voice rising as he gets right in my face. “I always knew you were ugly, I figured that why you went there, they don't need pretty girls in the Army, and maybe one of those boys would be desperate enough to marry your horse-faced ass, take you off my hands. Hell, they must like 'em dumb and ugly in Russia, because that's the only way you'd end up with him. Is that what you want, a bunch of little commie babies like the slut tramp you are? Are you...”

  I'm crying by this point, so I don't see Ivan, and Daddy doesn't either, because he's sent tumbling when Ivan shoves him in the chest, his hands going up to the boxing position. “Ivan, no!”

  “No, Christina. Disrespecting me, fine. Disrespecting you....” Ivan says as he closes with Daddy, laying him out with a powerful hook that sends D
addy stumbling into the side of his truck. Ivan grabs Daddy by the throat and lifts him up, his fist pounding Daddy twice before dropping him. “You ignorant American son-of-a-bitch! You have a beautiful daughter, who is smart, smarter than your angry, bitter ass! She is making a future for herself, and you want to abuse her? You are the one holding her back from being the person she can be! I have been with her for months, and always, ALWAYS I have seen that she is not confident in herself. Now I know why! YOU! You are the one....”

  The police must have been close, because the whoop of the siren cuts Ivan off as he steps back, his hands still in the fighting position as the cop gets out of his cruiser, his gun drawn. “Put the hands down, boy.”

  I go to Ivan, and put my hand on his wrists. He's trembling, his eyes blazing in fury, his lip curled in rage. “Ivan, please. Please, this is a small town cop. He's not going to talk, he's not going to taze you. He will shoot you. I don't want that. Please.”

  Ivan's eyes cut to me, then to the cop, and he takes a deep breath, unclenching his fists before raising his hands and slowly getting on his knees.

  “Thank you for bailing me out,” Ivan says that evening as we leave the police station. “What did you tell them?”

  “The truth,” I reply. “That you're a cadet at West Point, that I am too, and that you were protecting me from my father. I couldn't talk them out of dropping all charges, the cop saw you pick him up by the neck and pop him twice in the face, but they city attorney said that he's willing to drop it to a misdemeanor charge.”

  Ivan nods, and we continue down the steps towards my car. “I will plead guilty. I did hit him. Did he say what my punishment would be?”

  “If you plead guilty, he said that he's willing to turn the matter over to the military,” I tell him. “I don't know what the Army will do.”

  Ivan shrugs and gets in the passenger seat of my car, resting his chin in his palm and looking out the window as I drive back to the house. When we get there, I shut off the engine and look over at Ivan, who hasn't moved. “Why did you do it, anyway?”

  Ivan looks over, his eyes full of emotion. “Because I cannot stand the fact that you were being abused by him, Christina. I kept my mouth shut, thinking it was not my place. But for a week, I've watched as he belittled every thing you did. All week, he has done nothing but say mean things about you. And I've watched as you've shrunk, retreating more and more into a shell that I could not see the beautiful, funny girl I enjoyed dating for the past few months. You have learned that when people attack you, to retreat into that bulletproof shell. But that bulletproof shell never will allow you to be the woman you can be. It will never permit you to be a swimming champ, or to get decent grades like you did this past semester. If it means I will be punished by the military for not letting your father put another layer of cement on your shell, then let the military punish me. You are too special, too precious to me for that to be allowed to continue.”

  I nod, moved to tears by the power and tenderness in his words, and I kiss him deeply. “Come on. Help me pack my bags,” I whisper, “we'll pack the car. We can go by the police station, take care of your paperwork... and then I don't ever want to see this town or Jack Logan again.”

  “Where will we go?” Ivan asks, and I shake my head.

  “I don't know. Take our time heading back to West Point, I guess. The first thing I want to do though is find a motel between here and Denver that has a king sized bed, and make love with you. If we can't find a motel, then we'll make love in the woods somewhere or something. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow.”

  Chapter 10

  Ivan

  “Cadet Vasuchenko....”

  “Vasushenko, sir. Vasushenko,” I correct the Colonel, who checks his paperwork and nods.

  “Vasushenko, my apologies. To say that this is not the way I wanted to start my first summer as the Brigade Tactical Officer is an understatement,” Colonel Renquist says, sitting behind his desk while I stand at attention. Christina is with me, having asked to speak about the situation. I have to give Renquist credit, he listened to her with patience before having her sit down. “Do you have any statement to make?”

  “None, sir.”

  Renquist hums, then looks at Captain Gilbert, the F-1 Tactical Officer. After Scramble, I’m in his company now. “He's your cadet, Captain. Anything you want to add?”

  Captain Gilbert nods, looking at me. “According to his file, sir, Cadet Vasushenko's got an attitude problem, as well as a problem controlling his temper. Regardless of the provocation that Cadet Logan talked about, his actions were not in line with what an Army officer should be.”

  Talk about 'throwing me under the bus.' The asshole does not even know me! I go to open my mouth and speak up to defend myself, but shut it with a snap. It is of no use. Colonel Renquist nods. “I agree. Regardless of what the standards of discipline in the Ukrainian army might be, at West Point we expect you to be an officer and a gentleman. Still, you were standing up for and trying to defend a fellow cadet. So, I will not be referring your case to the Commandant or the Superintendent. I'm signing off on a Regimental Board, fifty hours of walking tours. They must be served as walking tours as well, no work details. Until then, you are restricted to post.”

  I nod, understanding. “Yes, sir. Sir, when may I begin to serve my tours?”

  “There are no walking tours served during Beast, it would be bad for the new cadets to see their cadre being punished. During Reorganization Week you will be allowed to serve your first tours. I think that's enough time for you to reflect on controlling your temper. Dismissed.”

  I salute and leave the office, Christina behind me. In the hallway, Captain Gilbert gives me a look, then shakes his head. “Not a good way to start with me, Vasushenko. I remember what you did last year in boxing. You got very lucky.”

  Captain Gilbert leaves, and I say nothing until Christina and I are in the hallway. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, smiling. “I can do fifty hours without a problem. My only concern is that I may have ruined your Ring Weekend plans. If you wish to take someone else to the banquet, I understand.”

  Christina laughs and shakes her head. “Are you kidding? After all we've been through, I can think of nobody else I'd rather take. Now, let's get back to our rooms and get dressed, the APFT is in two hours. After all that hard work we did on the way back here, I'm looking forward to a personal best.”

  “Good. It may have taken us a little longer coming back, but I expect a personal best from you as well,” I tell her, clapping her on the shoulder.

  We change in our rooms and walk down to Gillis Field House. The idea is simple, to have all the cadre cadets do an APFT before Beast starts in order to best evaluate our capabilities for the upcoming four weeks. While most of Beast first detail is military customs and courtesies, it is a good idea.

  Christina and I agree to work as partners until the run, helping each other on pushups and situps. We stretch out, and I'm feeling ready. This test is no problem for me, in fact I am more concerned about Christina, but we have spent a long time working on her fitness and her form. I am sure she'll kick ass.

  The DPE officer, Major Kyle, gives us the standard brief and we pair off. “Get ready... start!”

  Christina starts, and I'm counting as she goes. “Two... three.... four... five... six...”

  “No Lane Eight!” Major Kyle says, and I have to repeat for Christina. “Elbows tight, Christina. All the way up. Ten... eleven... twelve...”

  “No Lane Eight!”

  Christina hisses, and pauses in the up position. “Okay Christina, you know what to do, slide the hand out. We did this together... now push, you are wasting shoulder muscle holding this up! Thirteen... fourteen... fifteen....”

  When Christina’s arms finally give out and she has to quit, she's set a personal record, twenty six, a score of seventy two points. She's smiling and I nod, bumping fists with her. “Good. Now, your turn.”

  I have about two minutes to
wait while the time goes out on the rest of the testing cadets, and Christina and I switch places. For me, it is nothing, and when I stop at seventy five pushups, there are still fifty three seconds on the clock when I put my knee down, shaking out my arms. A hundred points, and it's time for the situps.

  Christina does better in situps than pushups, getting sixty six for eighty one points while I again max the test, doing eighty. “Wow, going into the run I'm on pace for really doing my best,” Christina comments as we stretch our legs in the ten minute gap between the events. “Thanks.”

  “Just keep your pace and your breathing ready, and you'll be fine,” I reassure her. “Sorry I cannot pace you.”

  “Go burn the asphalt up,” she replies, giving me a grin. “You know you wanna show off for me. Let me see just how fast you can actually go.”

  We line up, and when the gun goes off, I take off fast. I've never pushed myself as fast as I can on the run, the Academy record for the two mile run is eight minutes and thirty eight seconds, something that is comfortably safe from me.

  Still, I push hard, and when I come around the turn around point that is the marker for the first mile, just over five minutes have passed. I lose a little bit of time in the second mile, but I cross the finish line at ten minutes, twenty two seconds. A three hundred, perfect score for the APFT.

  Instead of resting however, I turn in my score quickly and run back onto the course, searching for Christina. I find her at the mile and a half mark, according to my watch thirteen minutes into the run. “Need a pace?”

  “I could use one,” Christina gasps. She's pushing hard, but she is not built for running, and she earns every foot of the run. When she crosses the finish line with a time of seventeen minutes and fifteen seconds, she gets eighty points, a clear personal best, exciting both of us. Christina does the math quickly, and smiles showing me the results. “Hey, two thirty three, that's not too bad!”

  “Hold on, I need to use the toilet,” I interrupt her, running to the bathroom to pee. When I come out, I see Major Kyle in Christina's face, yelling at her.