by Lindsay Becs
An hour later, I’ve signed enlistment papers to join the United States Marine Corps. I leave for basic training in a couple weeks. Now, I need to go home and break it to my family that I’m leaving soon and joining the branch that Pops has told me to stay away from more times than I can count.
I see Ma at the kitchen counter, making supper I’m sure. With a smile on my face, I walk inside singing the Marine’s Hymn.
“What did you do?” She stops to look at me wide-eyed.
“Took life into my own hands instead of giving it over to Uncle Sam completely.”
She shakes her head, going back to cutting up potatoes. “Your father is going to have a fit.”
“Not if you sugar him up real nice with a fine dinner first,” I tell her, popping a piece of carrot into my mouth with a crunch.
Turns out, it didn’t matter what she made for dinner. He was going to be upset.
“Son, just this morning the paper reported that this month is the deadliest yet of this war. I’m not happy or excited to send you over there in any branch of service. But the fact that it’s about one in four Marines dying in that war… well, that saddens me a great deal. We’ve lost a lot of boys in Nam, and I don’t want my boy to added to that number.” He takes a sobering breath, and I feel a twinge of both guilt and dread of what’s to come. “Rupert, you know we already pray you for each day. Your mother and I will continue to do just that. We’ll all pray for you to come home safe and for His will to be done in your life. You help those young men come to know the Lord and be their guide in the horrible things they live through. I have no doubts you will do that.” He puts his hand on my shoulder.
Nodding at him, I say, “Yes, sir,” and for a second, I think he’s going to cry, but he clears his throat, standing and heading down to the basement to work on the new hutch he’s been building on for Ma.
The next days are a blur getting ready to leave. My parent have a big dinner at church for everyone to come see me off before I head to basic training. I’m tired and annoyed and ready to scream if I have to hug one more old lady from church, but I do it all with a smile on my face for my parents. I know this means a lot to them.
Once we’re done, I take off to see my friends. Georgy promises me to look after Linda while I’m gone, or at least until he gets his notice. Linda is in tears when I hug her goodbye. I kiss her and try to make it seem like I’ll miss her, but really, I’m not so sure I will.
It’s nearing midnight when I get back home, but I know I won’t be able to sleep. Quietly taking my guitar with me, I climb to the roof of the barn. Without thinking, I start to play a song I can’t seem to get enough of, Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl.”
Closing my eyes, I picture the sparkle of her golden-brown eyes as I strum the strings on my guitar. I allow this moment alone to feel sorry for myself. After this, moving forward, I will not wallow any more.
Basic training went about as you’d expect. Eight weeks of being pushed to your absolute limit physically and then pushed a little bit more.
I’ve been yelled at, had things thrown at me, ran until I puked, and told to eat more food in ten minutes than any normal human can consume. In the beginning, my body was exhausted beyond anything I’d ever felt before. My muscles ached, and there were days I felt like I would fall asleep if I even sat on the toilet.
By the end, I was able to do everything out of habit without thinking with more ease than I thought possible. My running stamina was up. I’d gained bulk in my muscles from the never-ending push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, and any other kind of up. I felt good. I felt confident. I felt like a Marine.
My family came to see me graduate. It surprised me that they would make the nine-hour drive to Paris Island in South Carolina, but I guess, in times like this, you didn’t waste a chance to see your family before they left for the unknown.
With a handshake from my drill instructor, he slapped me on the back and said, “Semper Fidelis.” And just like that, I was a Marine with a duty to serve my country.
I left with my family to go home for a short leave of two weeks before flying to California for infantry training. I spent the ride home sleeping when I wasn’t driving. As a family, we sang old hymns, played eye-spy and the alphabet game with license plates. I let myself enjoy the crammed hours in the car with my family.
I need to appreciate this time while I can. Because I know I might not seem them again.
Chapter 11
SUSAN
I watched him. For one week. Seven whole days. I watched him from a distance.
I watched as he threw the football with Bobby. I watched as he helped his dad outside. I watched as he got malts with Betty Jo and Donna Lynn. I watched him laugh with his mom on the porch as they swung on their swing. I watched him drive out to Kellerman Road. And I even watched as he kissed Linda after winning a race.
I saw him spend time and laugh with everyone but me.
Not able to take it anymore, I snuck out after my parents went to bed and knocked on his bedroom window.
“Susie?” he asks in a surprised whisper, pushing his window up. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to know why you haven’t tried to see me. Do I really mean so little to you that I don’t get a proper goodbye?” I tried to be quiet, but my voice kept getting louder the more my hurt came out.
“Shhh! You’re going to wake up Bobby.”
“It’s fine.” I wipe a tear from my cheek, frustrated with myself. “I’ll go. Be safe over there.” I turn to leave, and even though he calls out for me stop and wait, I keep walking.
I only make it to the side of the road before I feel him getting close to me.
“Susie, wait!” He pulls on my elbow to stop and spin me around to look at him. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“What? Be honest?”
“I’m not the guy for you. As much as I wish like hell I was, I’m not. I need you to move on and forget me. Alright?”
“No, that is not alright, Rupert Hunter! No matter what happens, I will not forget you.”
His brows are pulled together with a pained look on his face. Then his eyes meet mine, and I see it. I see the longing there, and I understand. I understand the fear behind it all.
Reaching for his hand, I soften a bit, my anger dissipating seeing him vulnerable in front of me. “I wish things were different.” He says it so quietly, I almost don’t hear it.
Stretching up on my toes, I place a soft, chaste kiss on the edge of his jaw.
“I mean it. You be safe over there, Ru.”
I turn again to leave, and this time he lets me go.
RU
After seeing Susie walk away, it was like something in me snapped. I went from wanting to spend time with my family to needing to be far away from them. They were only another reminder of all I was going to be losing in a matter of days.
I was beginning to feel like I was watching someone else’s life play out while my mind was turning over and over with all the different scenarios of what was going to happen once I got on that plane.
Overnight, I went from the dutiful, perfect son they always wanted, back to my old self. Drinking, smoking, racing, and doing anything but being at home. I could tell it was wearing on my ma, and pops was losing his patience with me, but I had to separate. I needed to. Or I’d never leave.
Shaking the guilt from my mind, I take a long drag from my cigarette and turn to look for Georgy and Linda. I’m confused when I spot them in a dark corner, close together. I watch as Linda whispers something in his ear, making him smile, and then his lips meet hers. Seeing them like that should make me mad or upset or jealous, but I feel nothing but indifferent.
Making my way to them, I take another drag and blow my smoke out in their direction. “Well, you two seem cozy. Couldn’t wait until I left for good, huh?” Both of them look like deer in headlights when they turn to me.
“It’s not what you think, Hunt,” Georgy starts, but I put a hand up to stop him.<
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“It’s all good. I was going to ask you to look after her when I left. I guess you just took it upon yourself to start a little early,” I chuckle.
“Hunt, I promise—” Linda starts next, but when she sees the look on my face, she stops.
“Go be happy and make babies.” I drop my cig and put it out with my boot. “We both know this wasn’t going anywhere anyway.”
“Please don’t leave like this, Ru!” Linda yells when I turn to go.
“Like what?” I snap. “We have nothing. We never did. I was only using you until I got who I really wanted.”
I see her hand raise to slap me, but I don’t stop it. I deserve it. It stings, but I pick my head back up to stare right at her. Waiting for her to say something.
“Like you’d ever be good enough for little Miss Goody Goody,” she says. There it is.
“Difference between you and me, Linda, is that I know when I’m being used by someone and you don’t. I also know when I’m no good for someone, and I’m smart enough to stay away.” I look her up and down in disgust then to really push home my point. “You just leech on to whoever will take you.”
“You stay away from me, Hunt!” she yells at my retreating back. No problem there.
I hear footsteps coming up behind me, and I know they’re Georgy’s. “What do you want?” I ask, stopping at my car, ready to get out of here.
“I’m sorry, Ru,” he says. He never calls me that, so I know he means it.
“It’s fine.” Looking over his shoulder, I see a mad Linda waiting for him. “You really should take care of her.” I nod toward her. Slapping him on the back, I give him a smile to let him know we’re good and get in my car to leave.
Driving home, I see a figure walking on the side of the road. As I slow down, I squint to see who it is. Is that Susie?
Pulling over, I open my door and stand there, smiling at her.
“Where you going, sweetheart?”
“Nowhere. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Want to go nowhere with me?”
“Take me home?” she counters.
“Alright then,” I tell her and get back inside.
Pulling up to her house knowing that I’m leaving tomorrow, I don’t want this to be the last time I see her.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” I ask her when she opens her car door.
She takes in a stuttered breath, her eyes still down. “I don’t know.” She says those words like they are all that’s keeping her alive.
“Please, Susie? Please let me see you once more before I go?” I beg.
“I don’t know if I can,” she whispers and leaves.
Her absence. Not knowing if I’ll get to see her or touch her again feels like she takes all the oxygen from my lungs.
Backing away from her house, I see her silhouette in her window, watching me leave. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I feel something fall down my cheek and swipe at it. A lone tear. Hitting my steering wheel, I drive home and away from the only person who can make me break.
Chapter 12
RU
I’m abruptly woken up with my blankets yanked off me and the curtains drawn open, making the sun shine brightly in my hungover eyes. I groan in protest, pulling my pillow over my head, needing more sleep.
After dropping Susie off, I drove around for hours with thoughts of what could be plaguing my mind. I parked back at home close to three in the morning, where I stayed in my car and drank the rest of the booze I had. I stumbled inside when it was all gone and passed out in my bed.
This assault of sun right now is doing nothing for my pounding head.
“Get up. Now!” I hear my pops boom from above me.
Knowing that when he uses that voice you better listen or get your butt beaten, I move as fast as I can manage to get out of bed and dressed before finding him in the kitchen.
He’s sitting there sipping a glass of tea. He may appear calm, but I know that look in his eye. It’s one I’ve seen too many times to count in my lifetime. It’s disappointment, anger, frustration, and fury.
“Sit,” he says calmly, not letting his voice show any inflection. Yet.
Pulling out a chair, I sit, keeping my head down, and wait.
“You will look me in the eye when I talk to you, boy.” Lifting my head, I do as he says. “This was how you wanted to leave, huh? Drunk? Avoiding your family? Not a care that you are hurting your mother?”
I slide down in my chair, keeping my face void of showing how much this kills me deep inside. He stares at me until I can’t take it any longer and drop my head again. His fist hitting the table makes me jump and look back up at him.
“You think this is a game? You think this is like leaving for an away game in high school? Think again. This is real life, Rupert. You are going to a place where people don’t come home, or they come home half the person they were when they left. Do you understand that?”
Gritting my teeth to keep from saying something I’ll regret, I nod.
“I thought maybe you cared a little bit about the feelings of the family you’re leaving. The one who loves you and prays for you and will miss you, but I can see that you don’t.”
“I do care!” The words come out before I can stop them, and I immediately regret opening my mouth. I didn’t want them to see how hard this is for me too.
“You have a funny way of showing it. What is wrong with you that you couldn’t spend these last days with us? Are we that bad that you’d rather be drunk than see us?”
“It’s not like that. I just…”
“Just what?” he yells. “I get that it’s hard. You don’t know exactly what you’ll see or have to do. But this is not acceptable. This is not the son I raised.”
“You don’t get it. That’s just it. I’m leaving to fight a war that is neck-deep in blood. The chances of me coming back aren’t great, Pops.”
“Don’t you say that! You don’t talk like that,” he says, getting angrier with a finger pointing at me. “You’ll come home.”
“You don’t know that! Aren’t you the one always telling us the daily number of casualties from the war? You need to wake up and realize that I might be one of those. I can’t stop what’s about to happen any more than you can promise I’ll come back. That’s a fact you need to get behind, Pops.” I stand to leave, needing to get away from this conversation.
“You don’t turn your back on me, son!”
“This time I do,” I say as calmly as I can as my hands tremble.
I spend my last day by myself, doing what I love most. Driving. I drive with the windows down and love the feeling of the clean air filling my lungs.
I go back home just as everyone is sitting down for supper. Taking my usual spot at the table next to my father, I grasp his hand as he says the blessing. We all eat in complete silence with the reality of what’s happening tomorrow looming around us.
After dinner, I grab my guitar and go up to the roof of the barn, enjoying the last hours of silence and solace.
SUSAN
I told myself I wasn’t going to see him. I was going to keep away. He wanted it that way.
Until he didn’t.
Sneaking out, I make my way the mile to the Hunters’ house. I know exactly where Ru will be. I can faintly make out the sound of his guitar as I get closer to the barn. Quietly, I climb up the ladder and walk to where he’s sitting.
He doesn’t seem surprised or put off by me showing up. I just sit there watching him, head bowed, cigarette hanging from his lips, spirals of smoke floating into the dark sky. His fingers lightly strum the strings of his guitar, the sound so beautiful it’s almost enchanting.
Setting his instrument next to him, he takes one last pull from his cigarette before putting it out and turning to look at me, blue eyes piercing into my heart. “You came.”
Dropping my head, I tuck fallen hair behind my ear. “I did.”
“And now you can’t look at me either?” His question has me doing just that, l
ooking at him in question. “I hurt my family this week. Had a fight with Pops too. Now, none of them can stand to look at me.”
Reaching out without thinking, I cup the side of his face in my hand. His eyes instantly close from my touch. “I’m sure that’s not true. It’s just hard to see someone you care about getting ready to leave.”
“You care about me?” he asks, opening his eyes again, vulnerability swimming in them.
“Have you really questioned that?”
I see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His hand reaches up to wrap around mine on his face. I watch him lick his lips, and it makes my heart begin to race.
It all feels like slow motion, yet time is moving too fast. I want to savor this moment. Etch it into my memory forever to never lose it.
A small gasp leaves my slightly parted mouth when he leans forward and brushes my lips with his. It’s soft, chaste, and not enough. My eyes stay closed when I feel him pull away, but he keeps his head resting on mine.
“Ru?” His name sounds tortured coming from me.
“What, Susie sweetheart?”
“Kiss me more.” It’s not a question but a plea, a request, a statement that I need more from him. If not ever again after this, but for now. I need—want—more.
“Susie…” he breathes my name, sounding like it’s the key to his survival.
His lips touch mine again, singeing them with the truth of what we both feel for one another for the first time. Soft and slow, he sweetly kisses me. My first kiss. My first perfect kiss that I will remember for the rest of my life.
“I want to play you a song,” he tells me, his voice cracking a bit as he reaches for his guitar again.
I smile watching him, relaxed and content right here like this. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that he’s playing “Brow Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison. He quietly sings the chorus when he gets to it. I sway back and forth, listening to him play.