Playing the Field

by C. J. Pinard

  “What was that?” I heard someone scream in my ear.

  I turned to see my bunkie, a grunt named Dimitri Ellis, looking at me with wide eyes. His nearly black skin was gleaming as the orange flames danced off the sweat coating it.

  I shook my head, aware that I was also covered in sweat and soot. “I don’t know, man.”

  “On your feet!”

  I looked up to see my commanding officer towering over me. He was in nothing but shorts and a T-shirt, but that in no way reduced his authority. His blonde hair was coated in soot, as was his face, and he was wearing no shoes. Ellis and I stood up wearily and stared at him, waiting for a command.

  “Suicide bomber,” was all he offered.

  I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so I replied with nothing but a nod.

  “You two, gather up as many Marines as you can. Trucks are on their way to take us to a temporary shelter.”

  “Yes, sir,” we both replied, going to each and every person, making sure they were okay. Some had cuts and bruises, a couple had even more serious injuries, but we learned later we had gotten very lucky. The bomber’s detonation had gone off prematurely we learned, and had only blown up two rooms in the front part of the building. We lost three Marines, which was a horrible tragedy, but it could have been so much worse.

  As I took one last look back at our now destroyed barracks, I fought back a sad sigh, realizing all the letters she had written me were now nothing but ash and dust. How symbolic that would be, I later realized.

  I fluttered my eyes open heaving out a gasp, the plain white ceiling of the hotel room reminding me that was in Arizona, USA, not Fallujah, Iraq, and I scrubbed a hand over my face, my palm catching the scruff of my chin and cheeks. I hadn’t shaved in two days, and had no plans to today, either.

  The hot shower felt good, but it didn’t wash away my dream. I fought back the sadness I felt every time I woke from one the memory/nightmares that plagued me frequently. The only consolation I drew from it was that I knew I wasn’t alone. Many other Marines suffered from nightmares, and even worse, PTSD, which I refused to acknowledge that I had. But the more I thought about it, the less comfort that gave me. I was sad others were still suffering through it, and I prayed that they could be strong and push on the way I felt I had, and go on to lead happy lives. I wasn’t one to let much get me down, and despite the trauma from various events of two deployments, I had stayed in the Marine Corps reserves.

  Warm water and soap cascaded down my body and my thoughts were still twirling around in my brain. I had lost a few brothers on the battlefield and I personally knew of guys who couldn’t get past that. They suffered from survivor’s guilt – or so that’s what the shrinks who handed out the pamphlets had called it. I considered myself lucky to be alive, and I wasn’t going to waste any of it. I had been given a gift, and I believed in a higher power – one who had allowed me to stay on this Earth for whatever reason that might be. And I wasn’t going to squander it. The nightmares and memories were just a reminder that I was to be grateful for all I had.

  After slicking some gel into my hair, I put on my white and red baseball uniform, grabbed my gear, and headed out to the field for a whole day of practice. Baseball practice was freeing. It cleared my head to be under the clear blue sky of the best country in the world, and to be around carefree young men who had no idea what life was like with duty, deployments, and danger. Their naivety made me smile. I was older than most of them, being 26 while a lot of them were still in college or barely out of it. Even though I had never told any of them my age, some of them still seemed to look up to me as a mentor in some way. I was good at baseball, but it was just a hobby. Something to add to the resume of my life.

  Just before heading out to the field, my phone buzzed in my duffel bag. I looked to see I had a selfie of Miranda’s pretty face in a text message with the caption, “When do I get to see you?”

  Grinning like an idiot, I quickly texted back, “Soon, beautiful. Very soon. Have a great day, my queen.”

  I tossed the phone back into my bag and grabbed a bat from the large green bag lying on the dugout floor. The wooden bat, a maple Louisville Slugger, was my favorite, and as I swung it, my left hand choked above the right at the bottom as I was a lefty, I thought about Miranda. Was she my girlfriend? I wasn’t sure. We’d been on one date, and that was almost two weeks ago. Shortly after our date, I had been sent to spring training and was bummed out I wasn’t going to get to see her until this was over.

  “Lawless, you’re up!” I heard Cary yell at me.

  I dangled the bat by my left side, a big grin on my face as I was faced with Jared at the pitcher’s mound. Ah, this would be fun. Until later tonight when we faced off against the Los Angeles Devils in a scrimmage.

  ***

  Three weeks later, training was done, but I had another kind of training to go to. Hanging up my baseball uniform, I went into my closet and pulled out my cammos. They were already folded neatly at the top of my closet, and stuffing them into a green duffel bag along with my boots, I packed a couple more outfits of civilian clothes and stuffed my toiletries bag into it. Zipping it up, I grabbed my phone to see I had two texts from Miranda.

  Hey, player. How am I supposed to wait a week before seeing you?

  Followed by: I hate your baseball job. :)

  I chuckled and shot off a quick reply: You know you find me hot in the uniform, just admit it. I’ll see you soon.

  I shoved the phone into my pocket and got into my car. As I headed up to closest Marine Corps base for my weekend warrior training, which was over three hours away, I thought about Miranda the whole time. Baseball be damned, she conjured up much more pleasant thoughts. I just hope I wouldn’t strike out with her. She seemed more than worth the effort.

  After an all-day training exercise in the rocky terrain of Nevada, I was lying on my stomach in my bunk, the phone propped up against the pillow as I stared into Miranda’s honey-colored eyes through the screen. Her full lips were coated in something shiny and she had all her blonde hair swept to the side over her bare shoulder. I wanted to jump through the screen and devour her like an animal.

  “So where are you?” she asked.

  I looked down into the little box to make sure my face was visible in the Skype screen. With confidence bordering on challenge, I replied, “In the field, baby.”

  “Well, I have had the worst day. My friend Cara, she was dating this Army dude, and she totally fell for him over the summer last year.”

  This piqued my curiosity, and I listened even more intently. “Okay…”

  Miranda pulled a piece of gum from her mouth and did something with it, out of the sight of the screen. “Sorry,” she blushed, chagrinned.

  I smiled at her. “Go on about you friend.”

  “Oh yeah. So this guy gets deployed to God knows where, and begs her to wait for him. Then when he gets back – stationed in Colorado mind you – he won’t let her see him. Acts all secretive and shit. Come to find out, he had found someone else! I mean, the guy just got back. I’m so mad, you don’t even know! Cara’s a mess!”

  I shook my head. “Wow, that’s messed up.”

  “Totally. I told Cara to stay away from military guys. They’re nothing but trouble. I dated a few in San Diego. Total players.”

  I frowned. Well, shit. I was just about to tell her I was in the reserves. I self-consciously looked around to see how much of my barracks room she could see from the Skype screen. Thankfully, not much.

  I plastered on a smile. “Well, that sucks for your friend. But not all military guys are bad, you know.”

  She waved a dismissive hand at the screen. “Whatever. I’m glad I’m done dating them. I think baseball players and computer programmers are so much hotter.” She had a wicked gleam in her pretty eyes and then winked.

  There was no way I could frown at that. I guess I was gonna have to find another way of telling her I was still in the reserves. I mean, surely she couldn’t be
that mad when she found out, right? No matter what she liked to call me, I really wasn’t a player. Not the way she meant anyway. I’d have to just charm her so when I did drop that bomb on her, she would either not care, or easily forgive me.

  Chapter 6

  Between training and my weekend warrior stuff, the month away from Miranda was long, but worth it when I saw her pretty face smiling at me as I stood in front of the amusement park entrance. My stomach almost leapt into my throat as I looked at her beautiful long legs in the white shorts she was wearing. The pink tank top was frilly and made her skin glow against it.

  I wasn’t sure how to plan our second date, but we lived in the Bay Area and there were so may fun things to do, so I thought maybe an amusement park might be a hit. The danger factor of the scary rides, combined with a lot of walking and being forced to talk and interact with each other, might be a good way to get her know her better.

  The last month of calls, texts, and Skype had been interesting. It was a tad awkward at first, not sure if I should be contacting her as much as I was, but she always reciprocated, returning texts and telling me she was happy to hear from me.

  “Hey, player,” she whispered into my ear as I drew her into a hug. We stayed tangled up in each other a little longer than should be proper for public, but I really didn’t care at all. Her body felt good against mine and I was so reluctant to pull away. After I’d led her by the hand to the ticket booth’s line, I dipped my head down and dropped a kiss onto her velvety mouth. She seemed hungry for my kiss, so I turned it into more than a friendly I miss you kiss. When her tongue slipped past my lips and her hands slid into the back pockets of my jeans, I once again pulled her to me. I felt like a teenager and laughed a little to myself. That was, until my body responded to her, and I almost embarrassed myself before pulling away so she didn’t sense that I was more anxious for her body than I had planned on letting on.

  The day passed us quickly. We had a great conversation over lunch and while waiting for rides, and the day turned out as I had planned. She gripped onto me tightly on the snug turns and terrifying drops of the roller coasters, and kissed me, thanking me for the day when I led us back out to the parking lot.

  I didn’t want to let her go. I didn’t want to put her in car and watch her drive off. But I knew I had to. So I opened her door and helped her in, staring into the honey shade of her eyes as she almost seemed as if she wanted to ask me a question.

  “Goodnight, your majesty. Will I see you tomorrow?”

  She nodded, blonde hair framing her face in wisps. “Yes, definitely.”

  I leaned down one more time and pressed my lips to her willing ones. I closed her door and watched her drive off with a big, stupid grin on my face. I felt like I was back in high school, swooning over the prom queen.

  ***

  After spending almost all day on a particularly boring Monday working on creating a webpage for very picky client, I got up and stretched, making my way to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and pulled out some leftover Chinese food – grilled chicken in a spicy sauce and veggies. I nuked them for a minute and gasped when I saw the time. It dawned on me that I had not eaten anything all day. I’d got up around 9 a.m. and it was now 5. Man, how the day had gotten away from me.

  I stirred the greasy mess on the plate and grabbed a coconut water from my fridge and brought it back to my home office. While I ate, I decided I would check emails. I had two accounts, one for my computer business, and a personal one. Not really seeing anything but spam on my business account, I toggled over to my personal Gmail account, seeing I had four new emails. Two were ads (I really needed to unsubscribe from some of those sports sites!) and one was from my mother, ensuring I was coming over for our annual July 4th barbeque. The fourth email caused me to pause mid-chew, and then force the lump of chicken down my throat.

  It was an email from her. I stared at the bolded words in the subject line which read “Please open. I miss you.” I glanced one more time at the sender, seeing her name. Fingers twitching over the mouse, I contemplated what I was about to read. It was probably more crap and apologies.

  Don’t do it, Jace, warned the angel on my right shoulder. Just delete it.

  Oh, just open it, Jace. You know you want to see if she’s changed her ways and wants you back, taunted the devil on my left shoulder.

  Since I was left-handed, the devil won out, and I clicked the email, immediately regretting the decision once I’d read the first line.

  Jace,

  Why can’t I let you go? Why won’t you believe me when I say I’m sorry? I still love you. I never stopped. I was foolish, and now I’m groveling. He meant nothing. You mean everything. I messed up. Can’t we just start over? I love you. I’m sorry about the email. You obviously changed your number so it’s not like I can call or text. I know this is a desperate way to reach you, but I’m a desperate girl.

  Please reply. I need to see you. I’m aching for you. ~ Sam

  I slammed the laptop lid shut with more force than necessary, and stood up on wobbly knees, making my way to the kitchen to rinse off my plate. I hadn’t even eaten half, but suddenly, I wasn’t hungry anymore.

  Who in the hell did she think she was? I had let her go. She was unfaithful and wicked and I wanted and needed no part of her lies and deception. And her deceit reached far past just the two of us.

  The left outfielder, Ashton Elms… he and I didn’t speak because of this woman. Sure, he was at fault too, but in all reality, he’s a dude. She was supposed to be faithful to me. We had something going, but she decided she was going to make rounds with my teammates. Thankfully Ashton was the only one dumb enough to fall for her feminine wiles, and he’s still paying for it with my silent treatment toward him. A fly ball could come sailing at his head and I wouldn’t so much as try to catch it if I was there. What stung was that one day when Sam was mad at me, she told me Ashton was better looking and had more going for himself than I did. He had jet black hair and crystal blue eyes and this ridiculous jawline that he could never seem to keep completely shaved, and I knew he was a gym rat – and a total womanizer. I was glad when he had dumped Samantha after sleeping with her only once – served her right.

  Then she had the nerve to try to come crawling back to me. Not gonna happen, babe. Find yourself another chump. Today isn’t your day.

  I went back into my office and hit the trash can icon on her email. I then went in and blocked her email address from sending me any more messages, essentially blocking her from my life.

  My mind drifted to Miranda’s pretty face. The light peppering of freckles across the bridge of her straight nose, her eyes the color of butterscotch, and her light eyebrows that were always perfectly shaped. I smiled and was glad I had someone like her in my life. I knew our relationship was in its infant phase, but the excitement of where it was heading caused me to smile wider. Sure, we hadn’t gone to the next level, as much as I wanted to – God, did I want to – her body was a perfect hourglass and it felt like the perfect fit when I held her next to me. But I also had to prove to her that I wasn’t some cocky player like she kept referring to me as. I wasn’t like that. I’m sure I came off as one, but I really was a nice guy. Trustworthy and faithful and just looking for the right woman to share my life with. Sure, I had this baseball player asshole vibe I gave off sometimes – I almost felt like it was in my contract – but at the end of the day, I was just a regular guy who came from a good family and wanted a woman to settle down with.

  So why had it been so hard to find her? I hoped Miranda was it.

  It also occurred to me that I was gonna have to tell her about my weekend warrior training. That I was still in the Marine Corps reserves. Would she resent my once a month training? I didn’t know. But I needed to tell her. I always had a hard time telling women about that part of me.

  The baseball thing was obvious – it was how I met most women. And most of them knew that while it was a good job, it was also a seasonal one, and that my compu
ter business was a way to supplement my income. But the weekend warrior stuff wasn’t something a lot of women understood. The Marine Corps were a part of me. I had been overseas twice for two deployments, coming back mostly unscathed, thank God, but I still felt a sense of duty and honor to them. Would I find a woman who could understand and deal with that? I didn’t know. But she would have to. The Marines were a piece of DNA that made up the blood that ran through my veins and would have to be accepted.

  I just hoped Miranda was that girl. She was beautiful and seemed perfect and I wanted to get to know her and her pretty little daughter better.

  My mind flicked back to Samantha. She wanted no part of the military aspect of my life.

  “You need to get out of the military, Jace. You’ve missed out on my cousin’s wedding, my company picnic, and my mother’s 50th birthday because of that shit.”

  I sighed. “Sam, please. I don’t want to have this conversation.”

  Her finger went up in the air, her long, thick brown hair falling in waves around her shoulders as she pushed it aside. “Oh, we are so having this conversation. I want you home on weekends. I need you, baby.”

  I shook my head. “I am home on weekends, I’m only gone just once a month. I owe a duty to my country.”