The Professor had been true to his word. His recommendation that I receive a decoration for what I did during the evacuation of the village was approved. Instead of the Bronze Star, I was given the Silver Star. I really wanted to refuse it, but it seemed disrespectful to his memory. The little girl I’d rescued was there at the ceremony. I think she gave me the finger. That’s the last time I carry her unwillingly through a minefield!
The capture of the North Korean general and the prevention of the use of a nuclear weapon brought a lot more attention to me. Once again, I was recommended for a decoration. This one turned out to be an even bigger deal. I had to travel to Washington to receive it. With a lot more pomp and circumstance than I am comfortable with, I was awarded the Medal of Honor. Some people, when they are nervous, have their mouth go dry. I am the opposite. When I am nervous, my salivary glands go into overtime. Being in front of a whole bunch of cameras while the President of the United States talks about your bravery and merit can, to say the least, make you nervous. As a result, I had an overabundance of spit in my mouth. The President came up to me, put the medal around my neck, and then saluted me. I returned the salute and said, “Thank you, Mr. President.” I really didn’t need to say any word with the letter ‘p’ in it. The resulting spray hit the President right in the face. Despite the fact that most politicians can keep a straight face in unusual situations, a face full of spit will break the concentration of the most focused individual. The President recoiled suddenly and the Secret Service jumped in and covered him for protection. I didn’t think they would ever stop showing that video clip on the news.
Even though these events were years ago, I’m still not comfortable with the medals that were given to me. There are, and always have been, true heroes among our soldiers, some of whom received the recognition that they deserved, and others that deserved more recognition than they got. I’m just some poor schmuck who didn’t know when to stop running or which direction he was driving. I hope that the true heroes don’t hate me. I don’t want to take anything away from what you accomplished.
The Medal of Honor and Silver Star brought me a lot more attention than I had hoped for. My mother kept telling me to remember where I came from. She was almost like the guy who used to ride with Roman heroes and tell them, “Remember, thou art mortal.” Don’t worry, Mom. I never forgot where I came from. The dog is still trying to run away from there.
The high school that I graduated from decided that they wanted to rename it in honor of me. The faculty must have conveniently forgotten what an annoying, sarcastic little pain I had been. I finally relented and told them that they could, but I suggested that they just use my nickname. They refused and insisted on using my full name. I’m sure that they regret that now. The John Z. Pupulowinazowski High School. They had to reposition the lettering three times to fit it all on the building. The football jerseys have to be ordered with special lettering to try to put the school’s name on there. They also decided to change their mascot to the “Pups.” You know that strikes fear into the hearts of their opponents. What we need is to have another school become the “Kittens” and we can have a heck of a rivalry. I’d love to read that sports page article.
The squad had a reunion a few weeks ago. I’d say that things worked out well for most of us. When Rabbit woke up in the evac hospital in Japan, there was a doctor there watching her sleep. She didn’t find it creepy at all. They were married two years later. She’s a stay-at-home mom now and loves every minute of it. She’s also turned into an animal lover. They have several dogs and cats in their household. I’m forbidden from visiting.
Jethro returned home and began feeling claustrophobic. Even his frequent hunting trips couldn’t prevent him from feeling trapped in his tiny hometown. He moved out and is now the mayor of a city in Southern California. His family disowned him for becoming a “city slicker.” They have their own reality show now. I’m still trying to figure out what reality they’re in.
Hannibal lost his leg in the airstrike. It doesn’t appear to have slowed him down any. He is a personal trainer. Rumor has it that he achieves remarkable results, largely because the people he trains are scared to death of him and put in extra effort to make certain that he stays happy. He still hikes mountains and says that having a prosthetic leg adds to the challenge, which makes it all worthwhile. He has become a vegetarian. My nose has never felt safer.
Boom went to college and became a teacher. While all of the boys at the school tend to drool over her, she has the most disciplined classes in the school. It only takes one boy getting out of line once a year for them to discover the explosive temper behind that pretty face. Her principal also commented on how the level of respect being shown among the students had risen dramatically since her arrival. Apparently, Boom liked to teach her female students what type of behavior they should never put up with from guys. I dare someone to tell her that she’s a member of the weaker sex.
Shaggy wandered for a while after he was discharged. He had never really had much of a plan for life, and even facing death in the Hiss hadn’t changed that. He might have wound up shuffling along the streets in a bathrobe if he hadn’t accidentally bumped into a television producer and apologized. As soon as the producer heard his voice he grabbed him by the arm and took him to his studio. His is now the most well-known voice on children’s television shows on the planet. He’s also gained nearly three hundred pounds from his snacking. It all comes back to haunt us someday.
Nickel did lose an arm and a leg. During his recovery, he began taking some online college courses. By the time he was done, he was teaching American poetry classes at a college near his hometown. He has started a project in his old neighborhood, where he teaches some of the local boys how to turn some of the graffiti into something a little more artistic and poetic. Amazingly, he still hasn’t thought of a word that rhymes with “last.”
While it might not surprise some of you that I got married to Mayumi, it certainly surprised the hell out of me. Once the war was over, I figured that she would start to see me for the clumsy, socially awkward goof that I am. She did. For some reason it made her like me even more. We got married and had a couple of children. Despite the fact that I have the local high school named for me, I know that I’m still not a local celebrity. I still confuse or frighten people. I know that half of my neighbors swore that they would have nothing to do with me after Mayumi and I dressed up one Halloween and had a phaser battle in the front yard. Maybe it was shouting at each other in Klingon that frightened everyone off. The other half of my neighbors swore they’d have nothing to do with me when they saw me mow my lawn. I don’t believe in clearing off the lawn or mowing around things. If it’s there, it’s fair game and will get mowed over. That Tonka truck never had a chance. They never should have started making them out of plastic.
I spent some time in college, got a couple of degrees, and I’m working on starting my own practice. I’m a psychologist. I’ve been practicing self-diagnosis. I told you my therapist was a quack! Yes, I do charge myself eighty dollars per hour. It’s a tax thing. Oh yeah! I found my keys! They were still floating around the same transport plane that I took for part of my flight back to the states. They had gained an almost ghost-story status for attacking unsuspecting soldiers. Nice symmetry, huh? I once read a T-shirt that said “I’m in my own little world, but that’s OK! Everyone there knows me!” I think that shirt sums me up quite well.
Welcome to my world. Everybody calls me Pup. Stay as long as you like. We’re pretty friendly here, and we don’t tell stories about heroes. We just tell stories. We let others decide what to call them.
Acknowledgements
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Since this is my first published book, I feel the need to acknowledge a great many people. The first and most obvious appreciation must be extended to my family. Angela, you have taken so much pride in my accomplishments that I’m not sure I can ever repay you. I love you greatly
. Joe, I am always proud to be your father, and your encouragement makes that pride grow even more. To my parents, you always let me explore my talents (or lack thereof) which helped lead me to so many things that I now enjoy.
My friends and colleagues, you keep me going through each day. DeAnn and Tommy, you provide me with a smile when I need it most. Mrs. Edwards, I can’t promise you lots of money for your retirement, but drop by and I’ll get that chicken sandwich I promised for you. Mrs. Golson-Saunders, thank you for helping me get Pup ready for competition. To the front office ladies, all of the faculty, administration, and students that put up with me throughout the year, I appreciate your enthusiasm and support.
I have to extend an enormous amount of thanks to Lou Aronica and the folks at Authors First and The Story Plant. You have given me a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you have guided me through it with understanding, patience, and insight. You helped me find a pride in my work that had remained hidden from me. I hope that your faith is well rewarded.
I know that there are a great many more people that I can and should thank. However, for once in my life, I’m going to try to avoid saying too much. You know who you are, and my love and thanks goes out to you. Thanks for visiting my world. You’re always welcome here.
About the Author
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Christopher Slater was born, raised, and continues to haunt Middle Tennessee. His love of history led him to teaching that subject, which gave him the opportunity to hone his storytelling skills with a captive audience. Once he thought he had sharpened his abilities enough, he decided to start writing for a more voluntary audience. When not writing, Slater enjoys historic reenacting, playing airsoft, and converting oxygen into carbon dioxide. He teaches middle school in Tennessee where he still lives with his entertaining son, very patient wife and a cat that won’t get out of his seat.
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