I wasn’t sure if anyone was listening to the lecture by its end. Most adults’ attention spans were shorter than teenagers. Finally, someone spoke up.
“Man, Robert, you and your liberal agenda nearly want me to apologize to every African American I know.” The remark was followed by some more laughter, and Mr. Peet could only sit back in his chair and stare at the fire. There was no use getting through to these people. They had been taught the wrong way a very long time ago and weren’t about to change now, especially by some know-it-all history teacher with a master’s degree. The only thing worse would have been a full-fledged doctor from some Ivy League institution trying to teach them about what they already knew.
Steadily, the conversation moved away from 1860s politics into people’s lives. I learned that Daniel was an architect and Robin stayed at home with Archer and Julie. Mike was a sales representative, a job that kept him on the road a lot, thus he tried to make as many reenactments with Hunter as possible for some father-son time. They all, of course, asked me about how I enjoyed it so far, said that they were glad to see me again from the parade, and asked what I was learning in school. All of them seemed just like ordinary people who just happened to dress like they did one-hundred-fifty years ago on the weekends. Was there anything different from them than the storm-troopers or Luke Skywalkers that did the same thing?
It was pushing midnight before everyone toddled off to bed, turning off the lanterns and doing their best to keep warm on another cold night. I did my best to sleep since the day had been long and I had run around with Lizzy far more than I had expected to. But my mind was racing through my encounters with Jason, my distant relationship with my aunt that was on the brink of total collapse, Jody and her terrorization of me, and of course, my family. Finally, I sat up in my bed unable to even fake sleep any longer. Wrapping myself with a large blanket, I made my way out of the tent and was shocked to see Jason sitting alone by the fire.
“What are you doing out here?” I whispered as I approached.
“I guess I should ask you the same thing. Couldn’t sleep?”
“No. What about you?”
“I never can.” I sat down a couple of chairs away from him, silenced by his remark. We sat there staring into the fire for a while until I continued the conversation.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your leg while we were dancing. If Lizzy wouldn’t have pushed it, I wouldn’t even have asked to dance.”
“It’s not your fault. I over did it at the battle today. I was just exhausted.”
But I knew it was more than that; there was pain in his face that far exceeded fatigue. I decided to delve deeper.
“I know you really didn’t get shot at Shiloh, so may I ask what really happened to your leg?” He gave me an all too familiar smirk, but didn’t say anything. I was about to drop the subject when he began.
“Ever heard of Iraq?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s just say I got into a bad situation over there and this is the price I paid for it.”
“How bad?”
“The situation?”
I nodded.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Actually,” I answered quite timidly, “I do.” He glared at me as if trying to justify whether he wanted to tell me or not, so I continued. “You just look like it hurts you a lot and I want to know what happened. I mean, you have your leg, right?” He nodded. “Then were you shot?” He didn’t say anything, but gave a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ve overstepped my bounds.” Stupid! I began to gather the blanket around me to head back into the tent.
“We were coming in from a patrol and had about two miles to go through the middle of Baghdad to get to base. Traffic got heavy so we were ordered to take a different route because you didn’t want to be sitting in the middle of traffic in case you were attacked by an RPG or something of that nature. It was a stupid decision, though.” His eyes focused deep into the burning embers. “They hit us from everywhere it seemed, just eating our Humvees up something terrible. We were sitting ducks when that first roadside bomb went off and they just cut us to shreds. We returned fire, but couldn’t see a thing. Then it was silent, the screams, the shots, all of it just went blank.” He said all this without looking away from the fire, as if he could see it all replaying within the flames. “Anyway, I got out with shrapnel embedded in my leg, so it gives me trouble from time to time.”
“But that’s not all.”
“No, that’s not all. Four of my best friends died in the attack.”
I closed my eyes and lowered my face. What a waste of youth, a waste of life.
“Anyway, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to them or my squad, but they gave me a couple of medals for bravery when I got home. Honorable discharge.” He gave a little laugh at the irony. It wasn’t that he wasn’t honorable, the whole situation was anything but. “So that’s what happened to me. Pretty messed up, right?”
“It’s a messed up world we live in,” I answered.
“Right, and what do you know of it?”
“I know my family died in a car accident this last December, right before Christmas.” What did I just say? The heat came back as I slowly told my whole sad story, why I was in Texas, what I was dealing with at school and home, why I flipped out on him during the hospital scene. It all just came pouring out along with my whimpers. God, he must think I’m a total nut. When I finished, his eyes were staring straight through me.
“Man,” he said and sighed. “We’ve both been through too much, haven’t we?”
I looked at him and couldn’t hold back, beginning to cry. It wasn’t a moment before he found his way over to the chair next to me and placed a strong arm around me, supporting my head on his shoulder as I did my best to control my whimpers so I wouldn’t wake anyone. He was so good in just letting me get it all out and then holding me as the emotion swept over me again. How long we sat there cradled together I didn’t know, but I finally felt his head move down and kiss the top of mine.
“I’m sorry. I’ve probably ruined your whole weekend with all of this nonsense.” I pulled away wiping my eyes with the blanket.
“Don’t be silly, Hope. If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have made the drive down here in the first place.”
“You came for me? How did you know I was going to come to this one?”
“I didn’t. I just hoped you did.”
“But, why would you care if I came?”
“You had a look about you.”
“A look?”
He sighed. “I’m not good at explaining it.” He turned towards me. “A look like there was something more to you than meets the eye. You were all quiet at the restaurant sitting next to me. I just kind of wanted to know more about you.”
“I was quiet? You hardly said a word.”
“And then you fell.”
“And you caught me.”
“You deserved to be caught.”
“And who goes shopping for wooden buttons?”
“I do. And who lost their balance again?”
“I did. And you held me when I was about to lose it.”
“I could’ve held you for a very long time.” A chill ran through my body and it wasn’t because of the cool night air. I couldn’t help but smile.
“I would’ve shown you that old store a thousand more times if it would’ve gotten you to stay.”
“And I would’ve stayed if you’d have shown it to me a thousand more times.”
We were so close and then it happened. He brushed some loose hair away from my face and leaned forward, kissing me, my first kiss, by a very handsome young man in a Civil War outfit. Even in the cold, his lips were so warm against mine; his hands firm yet passionate as they ran around my sides. He kissed me again and again as my hands went up to his face to feel his striking features, and soon I found myself locked in a tight embrace with him. Jason, whose poor soul had witnessed as much devastation as mine, held me and in his arms I bega
n to feel some of that weight being lifted from my heart, and maybe even vice versa for him. I think I could have stayed there all night even in the cold, but finally we separated.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“For what?”
“For...I didn’t know if you wanted me to kiss you.”
“Oh, no. It was...” How do I explain that I’ve never been kissed before or that his lips felt wonderful on mine? Oh, the heck with it. I leaned in and kissed him on the lips again. It only felt right. This time when we separated, I gave a sigh. “You’re a great kisser.”
He smiled back at me. “You are too.”
We nuzzled close for our warmth and comfort for a while longer, just staring into the dimming embers, and for the first time in a long time I felt close to normal. And it may have been just for this moment, this one splendid moment curled up in Jason’s arms that the loss of my family didn’t snake through my mind, that Jody didn’t sent shivers down my spine, and Mags’ detachment was of no concern. I held his wool jacket tight, feeling the itchy fabric against my face but not daring to let it go. Any tears that found their way into my eyes now were for being happy that someone had found me tucked away in the darkness. Jason had an inkling of what I had been through. He had seen the worst in Iraq and carried the physical wounds to prove it. This quiet young man whose heart was filled with grief for his men, held his grip as tight on me as mine was on him.
“Please don’t let me go,” he whispered in the most heart-wrenching way.
Why hadn’t he found any comfort before me? How could the United States military turn out well-tuned killing machines but couldn’t console one after he saw so much carnage? Jason was practically a boy, just nineteen. How many years would be lost while he replayed that horrible patrol through his mind? I wasn’t about to let him go.
The early morning rays of light shown through a small crack in the canvas doors as I awoke in my sleeping bag on the cot. Ahh, the teenage body is something extraordinary at times, staying up much of the night and still functioning somewhat properly the next day. Maybe it was the kiss or the cold or finding out about Jason, but my energy level was still running on high. Across from me, Lizzy was still out to the world as I stretched and rolled my neck. Sunday morning must have been a little more lax upon the fake fighting force since I didn’t hear any jostling to make breakfast just yet. But I wondered how I got back to my tent and in my sleeping bag. Throwing my coat and blanket around me, I scampered out of the tent and headed towards the girl’s port-a-john, not too far away.
“Hello.”
I heard his voice as soon as I started out of the plastic pooper, embarrassed that he was catching me here. I tried to answer back with some form of composure, but what do you say to a guy after just coming out of a port-a-john?
“How are you this morning?” he asked.
“Good and you?”
“I’m alright. Hope you didn’t mind me putting you back in your tent last night. You fell asleep in my arms and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s better than just leaving me out there in the cold,” I joked.
“I would’ve stayed with you all night before I did that.” Oh, why didn’t you then? “Listen, I know you need to get breakfast and stuff going, but would you like to talk more about this later?”
“Sure, that would be great. And you can join us if you want.”
Jason grinned. “I might have to this morning, but first ...” he gave a nod over my shoulder.
“Oh, Jeez, sorry.”
He smiled at me as he grabbed for the plastic handle. “I’ll be by after breakfast.”
Since there was no drill that morning either, Jason and I went for a walk up to the sutlers, the same one Lizzy and I visited the day before. I bought a few pieces of sheet music while I was there with him, thinking it might be interesting to learn a few songs on the violin. Our conversation grew from the night before as we got to know each other on a deeper scale than soldier and southern belle. He told me he joined the military right after high school, just a year and a half before. It wasn’t that he had the feeling of patriotic duty, but that the army offered him something that molded him throughout life: a team. In high school he’d played all types of sports, all that he could while keeping his grades at least to passing. He said that allowed him to stay out of the house as much as possible, away from a mother that didn’t have a steady job, or life for that matter, away from the stream of men that passed through her bedroom.
“She never could see how beautiful she was and she always looked for the next guy to make her feel like a piece of trash. And then one day, my senior year in high school, she just left and I never heard from her again.”
I wanted to cry for him, for the whole mess of life that he had gone through, but instead my mind turned to Mags. It wasn’t just his mother or my aunt, but women in general who seem to clamor to the men that were going to hurt them in one shape or form.
Why do we do that to ourselves? Is it just low self-esteem? Do we not think we are worthy of praise from the opposite sex? Jeez, why couldn’t they have been like my mother, who radiated beauty and who got the reverence she deserved from my father? Sure, they fought like any couple will do, but they truly loved each other.
Anyway, Jason’s father had left when he was only three and he didn’t remember much about him. Sports were his gateway, not that he was the best at any of them, but the people he encountered were there for him, stabilized his life. A nice teammate was always willing to lend him a sofa to sleep on or a coach that would buy him supper on the way home from away games, even though it was against school and state policy to do so.
“It was Mr. Peet that allowed me to come to my first reenactment when I was about your age. I think we both knew that I started just to have another weekend away from my house and Mr. Peet provided me with a lot of his old gear. But these people out here, this hobby, it kind of grew on me, you know? I got good at it and began to do the research on how these guys really lived. And I can easily say that I would much rather go through what I did a million times over than serve four years in one of these Civil War armies. I mean, these guys really suffered for what they believed.”
I asked him if Mr. Peet pushed him into the military after high school and he laughed.
“No, no. When I told him I was signing up, he tried to talk me out of it and asked me if I hadn’t learned a thing in his class. I probably should’ve listened to him more, but you know, being a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks with no prospects and no future and not many brains, what else was I supposed to do? You know, there are just too many people like me that don’t have the support, the backing they need to get somewhere in life and it comes down to two options: go to the military and get shot at by someone who hates you or start selling drugs and get shot at by someone who hates you.”
Of course he said he didn’t turn to drug deals after leaving the army, but worked at a local hardware store not too far from Mags’ antique shop and that’s why he had stopped there.
“You know, there is always college,” I told him. “You could use your GI Bill to get some classes at the community college or something. It’s a start at least.”
He only shrugged as our walk progressed down by the city lake. “I might do that someday,” but then he hesitated and looked at me. “I know I’m stuck in neutral right now and just can’t find the focus to move forward again. But I hope to get there someday.” He held out his hand and grabbed mine as I leaned in on his shoulder. Oh, how I knew how he felt, even under different circumstances.
Jason’s story was sobering. He came from nothing, probably having to scrape together every dime just to survive. This also made me feel miserable. I could send a text and within minutes get a few hundred dollars into my bank account while he worked forty-plus hours a week for the same thing. Why did he have to suffer because his parents were lousy at their job? Why was I so privileged just because my parent’s lives fell t
ogether perfectly? But it wasn’t just them. My family had always had money, passing it down over the years, but Jason’s money was new, little and new. I would inherit a fortune someday and he would be building his for the rest of his life.
The subject then turned to me, my life, and I felt reluctant to answer, but he had the right to know. I think the words New York, corporate lawyers, and Upper East Side seemed to overwhelm him to the fact that I was advantaged far more than what I had even considered. In fact, I was waiting for him to let go of my hand and run back to his pup tent, but he listened intently, keeping his blue eyes fixed on me. He didn’t say much as I yammered on, only nodding every now and then, which made me question whether I should have told him all this or not. I even told him my middle name, Elaine, making my initials H.E.K., which he laughed about. In the end of my spiel, he only said, “Cool.” It wasn’t until I started talking about my family as individuals that finally his uneasiness seemed to diminish, and he listened for God knew how long about how wonderful they were and how much I missed them. He pulled me close when he could see that just talking about it brought me to near panic attacks, caressing my back until the trepidation had passed.
Before I knew it, my wristwatch, another no-no in the reenacting world, was telling us it was already eleven. Hurriedly, we made it back to camp to have a turkey sandwich with Lizzy and Mr. Peet. I watched as Jason got ready, strapping his accoutrements, canteen, and whatever else around him, giving me a quick smile every now and then. I probably looked like a love struck puppy to everyone, but I didn’t care. Even Lizzy snapped her fingers a time or two at me to break my concentration.
Hunter came over and gave Lizzy a hug as the men started to line up to leave, and before I knew it, Jason had followed suit.
“Are you going to die today?” I asked sarcastically.
Finding Hope in Texas Page 17