by Modou Fye
“I think you worry too much, Cassandra. He didn’t write anything that was cause for concern.”
“That may be; that, though, does not change how I feel. Fine, he may not have written anything alarming just yet; however, countless stories of encounters that started out innocently enough yet ended horrifically abound the world over,” Cassandra reminded Lydia.
“Again, amor, you worry too much, with good reason I understand, but you really need not be concerned. Please trust me.” Lydia sounded very confident.
Cassandra was puzzled by Lydia’s confidence. “What makes you so sure, so willing to trust when you have nothing to go on?”
“I honestly don’t know but I’m positive that I need not fear.”
Cassandra thought this beyond belief. “Wow! Had it been me, I’d be freaking out!”
“You think?” Lydia teased.
“I also think I’m more curious as to who this person is than you are.”
“You just might be,” Lydia agreed. “I’m really in no hurry to find out. The intrigue makes it all the more fun.”
“And for how long do you intend to carry on like this, assuming that he or she writes again?” Cassandra asked.
“Until it plays itself out, I guess,” Lydia said rather absent mindedly. Her cone was now empty. She contemplated getting herself another helping. Some other time, she decided.
“I wish I were as courageous as you!”
“No need to be, you’ve got yourself a soldier!” Lydia teased.
A FEW EVENINGS LATER: Lying in bed with the television on, even though she wasn’t watching it, Lydia looked over at her muddy shoes on the door-mat, wishing she had cleaned them out front at the entrance of the building. Walking in with soiled shoes had left a trail of mud which, if followed, would have betrayed the perpetrator. It had rained quite heavily earlier in the day and the route she had walked home that evening had been quite muddy.
She then turned her attention to the bookcase adjacent to her television-stand. She decided that she’d read a book. As she got up, her phone beeped. “Why is the phone beeping? I don’t have any of my settings on beep. The setting is actually on silent. Not even the vibrating alert is on,” she said, baffled. She reached for it. It was a text message. She opened it.
“Hello.”
She knew who it was. “Hi, stranger.”
“How are you?”
“I’m okay. And how are you?”
“I’m well. You say that you’re okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Being okay could imply that you could be better.”
“Then what would you have me say?”
“That you’re good.”
“Okay then, I’m good.”
“Good. That’s better.”
“Better? Well isn’t ‘best’ one up on ‘better’?”
“That it is.”
“What then need I say that you might say that that’s the best response?”
“I don’t know… I suppose you could say that you’re terrific.”
“Then terrific it is!”
“Do you much care for this arrangement?”
“That you know me whilst I remain in the dark about you?”
“Yes.”
“Being one-sided makes it intriguing.”
“How long before you must know?”
“I am curious but in no hurry.”
“Is there a reason you are in no hurry?”
“No. I don’t think so… maybe I’m intrigued as this has never happened to me before. I’ve had people try to prank call me but nothing like this. If this is a prank, it’s more elaborate. You are not obnoxious, rude, or anything of the sort.”
“No, none of that; however, how can you be sure that I don’t have other kinds of quirks?”
“Nobody’s perfect. Besides, you haven’t written anything troubling yet, nor do I suspect that you will. If you were to become obnoxious then we would not be texting anymore.”
“Nobody’s perfect. Wise answer. How right you are.”
“Merely an observation on life.”
“Not too many share your wisdom.”
“I don’t know that I’m wise but I do try to be open minded and fair.”
“Have you told anyone about me?”
“Yes, a friend of mine.”
“And how did this friend react to your pen-palling with a stranger?”
“She doesn’t like it at all. She says that it isn’t safe.”
“And right she is, save I am the exception, I and one other.”
“Who?”
“If I haven’t told you much of me, why think you that I’d say more of another ☺”
“Just thought I’d chance asking the question ☺”
“I must go. I’d ask you to say hi to Cassandra, however, that would frighten her even more and we wouldn’t want that now, would we ☺”
Lydia lay in bed, petrified, unmindful even that she held her breath, and her eyes blinked not. Her very thoughts seemed to have been stilled. Once she remembered her emotions, she then began to panic. It was just then, however, at that very moment, that she felt her spirit quieted by an emotional flood of serenity. Though no longer fearful, her curiosity was most certainly roused.
“WHO ARE YOU, REALLY? And how do you know about Cassandra?” She wrote back. She then received a familiar message. The message, however, did not come as one would expect to receive a text message; it did not come as a text at all. Rather, glowing individual letters were created and formed in the air before her eyes. Astonished, she dropped the phone. When completed, the message read:
“I am curious but in no hurry.” Then, “All in good time, my dear. I must go,” following which the letters dissipated.
She picked up her phone. “How did you do that?” She wrote quickly, hoping that the message’s creator was still present. The author, however, seemed not to be present. Witnessing tiny particles come forth from naught then coalesce and weave and intertwine to create letters left her utterly speechless. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of might. Was this Shia’s doing? Because she couldn’t think of another explanation, she reasoned that it had to have been Shia’s hand at work. Yet she knew Shia well enough to find such an approach very unlike the deity’s antics. Just as the particles that had created the message, Shia too simply emerged from naught unannounced; however, as much as she wanted to believe that it was, in fact, Shia, her inclination to believe that it was failed to reconcile with her knowledge of Shia’s ways.
Weary and of the mind that it would be an effort in futility to sort it out, she desisted from any further thought concerning her preternatural evening and set the phone upon the nightstand. As she lay in bed, she noticed what seemed to be a miniscule glow above her, which was growing larger. As she watched what she had initially believed to be the dark merely molding her imagination, she soon found herself witnessing an occurrence very much like that of the writing by a hand unseen. A glowing thread, created before her, reached back to her muddied shoes. And it was the mud adhered to her shoes that the hand unseen then used to create a cursive luminous message before her which read, “What a mess ☺”
“Shia!” she called out excitedly, jumping out of bed and using the light created by the glow to try to discern through the dark. Following the thread she made her way to the apartment door, opened it then looked out into the hallway. Aglow in the darkened corridor was her every step, each of which had created a sullied footprint upon the carpeting. The prints, however, no longer rested upon the floor; rather they were raised off the floor as though the imprints had been created on air. Suddenly they all simply vanished. Outside her apartment door, Lydia reached for the hallway light switch; when the lights came on, not a print had remained.
Though as a child Lydia had witnessed wonders far greater, the humble soul that she was returned and lay in bed, awestruck. In her bedroom still floated the message “What a mess ☺” She smiled.
The
n a powerful, kind voice gently said to her, “You shouldn’t be so messy, my dear. And no, I am not Shia,” after which the hovering message was no more and the entity retreated.
28
It Is Only Just Begun
“Are we all packed?” McHenry asked after having had his soldiers empty out then repack the contents of their rucksacks. McHenry was an experienced soldier and knew well enough that soldiers are quite adept at not necessarily always following instructions as they should. With that in mind, his fail-safe method for ensuring that the troops actually did pack their gear as per the requirement dictated by whatever the issued packing list, he always had the men lay out the contents of their rucksacks, he’d then call out each item by name, each troop had to show he had it then he’d have them repack it all in his presence. After all was said and done, he would always laugh with them, reminding them that he too was once young, believed he was slick, and stuffed his sack with pillows for appearance’s sake.
“Sergeant Tailor, have all the tents been loaded?” Jaden, standing in front of his platoon’s formation, asked the first squad’s leader.
“Affirmative, sir!” Sergeant Tailor answered.
“Has every section packed everything that it’ll need while we’re out there? Grafenwoehr isn’t exactly just around the corner. At the speed we’ll be traveling, it’s almost a five-hour trip. This exercise must be executed without any impediments, gentlemen, absolutely no room for error… IT guys, I’m looking in your direction,” Jaden said, his attention focused on Staff Sergeant Ellis who was the non-commissioned officer in charge of the electronics and communication cell. “We’ll be dealing with mostly lieutenant colonels, colonels, and a couple of generals who will be role-playing simulated war games on very expensive computers,” the lieutenant continued. “It’s imperative that everything goes well. Though we’ll be dealing with grown men and women, if things begin to veer left or right off the plan, even slightly, with the deviation completely inconsequential to the mission, some of them will begin to bitch, moan, groan and cry. You can expect Lieutenant Krappa to be one such officer if he makes it to that rank,” Jaden joked. Though Jaden had always been taught never to berate fellow soldiers, especially personnel in positions of authority publicly, his discipline and discretion did not extend to Lieutenant Krappa. The soldiers laughed. “Seriously, though, we want all to go well.” Jaden’s phone rang. He excused himself, leaving McHenry to continue overseeing the soldiers.
Within seconds Jaden was back. “Wrong number,” he said to McHenry.
“Hooah, sir,” acknowledged his platoon sergeant.
“So, are we good?” the Lieutenant then asked, now fidgeting with his own rucksack.
“Roger, sir,” McHenry said. “Our guys are ready to roll. You can let the CO know that we’re ready. I’m not sure if he wants to do a spot check or not. He always did when your predecessor was here.”
“No. He trusts me to do my job. He won’t be doing a spot check,” Jaden informed.
“Then we are ready, sir.”
“Good! Have each section stand by their respective vehicles while I go inform the Captain that we’re ready to move out.” Jaden looked at his watch. It was 8:45 a.m. “We’re about 15 minutes ahead of the Op Order SP time. This is good. This will give us even more time to get set up once out there, not by much but it’s still more time.”
“Sir, sorry to burst your bubble but you’re forgetting something,” McHenry said, a wry smile stretched across his face.
“What’s that… and why the crooked smile?” asked the Lieutenant.
McHenry looked over to Krappa’s platoon. Jaden followed his lead. “I said that we are ready.”
Lieutenant Krappa’s platoon was a shambles. His troops still had all of their gear lying on the ground. It appeared as though some of them might not have even bothered to study the packing list as there most certainly was a discrepancy between what was required and the equipment Krappa’s soldiers had strewn about the ground; it also seemed that nor did they care for a couple of the squad leaders who, rather than tending to their respective squads, were actually laughing and playing cards. Jaden knew them quite well and looked over to where their own rucksacks lay, and if Jaden, in fact, had his eyes set upon the proper rucksacks and what lay about them, theirs were even more devoid of items than those of the squads they led. Jaden looked to Lieutenant Krappa. The fellow looked as though disaster loomed above his head.
“This is what happens when you don’t take care of your troops. They will screw you as badly, if not worse, as you do them,” Jaden commented.
“Damn straight, sir! This is what happens when you’re an ass-wipe; your platoon sergeant quits and finds another unit, and the troops who feel trapped simply start hating your uppity ass. The CO will have Krappa’s ass if we do not make SP. If we miss our scheduled roll out time by even a nanosecond, the CO is going to light his ass up, and that’s exactly what his soldiers are all waiting for.” McHenry laughed. “Sir, why don’t you go and get the Captain? Let him know that we are ready and would like him to inspect our ranks,” a fiendish McHenry suggested.
“Is that you or the devil speaking?” Jaden asked, smiling.
“If it’s the devil speaking, sir, more power to him. Shit! I’m just as eager to see this dude get his ass torn up as his own guys are. I am of the opinion that we should definitely help in setting up Lieutenant Shitter just right for optimum results when the CO is done ripping him a new asshole. As responsible soldiers we need to ensure that we do everything in our power to help him live up to his name. Anyone with a name like Krappa ought to have more than one asshole.”
Jaden chuckled.
“Sir, come on, please go get the CO,” McHenry implored.
Jaden certainly toyed with the idea for he believed that Krappa was very deserving of the fate his troops sought to work upon him but then decided against being complicit. He walked over to Lieutenant Krappa, who was hyperventilating. “Dude, are you all right?”
“I’ve got it under control,” Krappa snapped.
“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing,” Jaden said coolly.
“I’ve…” Krappa was now breathing laboriously, like one who struggled for air.
“Dude, go relax and let me help you. It’s either that or the Captain’s wrath. It’s up to you. I really couldn’t care any less if you decline my help. It’s your skin.”
Krappa yielded, albeit reluctantly, and returned to headquarters.
Jaden called out to the four squad leaders; the two that had been playing a card game had already abruptly ended their game when they had noticed Jaden approaching Lieutenant Krappa. “Gentlemen, I know that Lieutenant Krappa is a pain and I may very well end up regretting trying to save his skin but I’d really appreciate it if we made the Start Point time. I’d like to give my guys as much time as possible to set up all of the gear and run their checks and re-checks because when the big boys and girls show up, they are going to want to hit the ground running. I’d definitely like it if my IT guys can detect and work out all the kinks before the exercise kicks off to prevent some cry-babies from wailing unnecessarily. As much as Krappa deserves the set up, we don’t want any preventable shortcomings to reflect on the Captain, right? He’s the one people will point the finger at if things don’t go right. In short, we’re not doing this for Krappa but rather the image of the unit. Can I count on you?”
They found Jaden’s rationale sound and were only too happy to oblige. Jaden then watched as each squad leader led their respective squads to four different vehicles where, apparently, all that had appeared missing off the packing list had been concealed. The gear was then offloaded and packed away within minutes.
Jaden laughed. “Soldiers! Got to love ‘em,” he said before turning away.
*
THREE WEEKS LATER: “It’s been a long three weeks, hasn’t it? I can’t imagine how people permanently stationed here don’t lose their minds. There is absolutely nothing to do othe
r than train, day in and day out. God! How depressing! We really have it good in Mannheim, don’t we? I suppose we’ve just become small-minded, and kind of spoiled, having come from somewhere else but still holding on to the same expectations,” Jaden observed while stretched out on his cot, waiting for the cafeteria to open for dinner. “We also have to consider that we have been on lockdown and not been allowed out of the exercise area the entire time. I guess that’s why it has sucked. I’m sure there’s life and fun beyond the training area.”
“I’m with you on that, sir,” agreed Sergeant Phil, who oscillated in a makeshift hammock. “So, what are you going to do during the four-day pass once we get back?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet. Definitely something though. Ordinarily, staying home for as many days would not have been a problem but after being out here for three weeks, I have to get out. What are you going to do?”
“Spend it with Cassandra,” was the canned response.
“Dumb question! Of course you are,” Jaden said. “You know what?” asked Jaden as an idea presented itself.
“What’s that, sir?”
“Maybe we could all get together again one of those four days and, to use a term loved in the army, just lollygag like we did at the Water Tower,” the Lieutenant suggested. “What do you think?”
“Yeah sure, I’m sure Cassandra would like that. It’s like she has separation anxiety when she’s not with Lydia.”
“I’ll give Lydia a call.”
“You know, sir, if you’re going to make a move, you better go for it while you still can. There’s some guy that’s been talking to her; well, more like sending her text messages,” said Phil, entirely oblivious to Lydia’s otherworldly encounters.
“I’m good with that because making moves is not my intent. If I call it’ll be just to hang out. I’m in Germany and I feel like I should know some German people. I know she’s not ethnically German but you get my point. Everywhere I look I see nothing but Americans; I’m sick of you folks already.” They laughed.