by Jeff Seats
“You always this bright eyed in the mornings?” Kelvin wondered.
“Yep. Force of habit. Greet the day with a good attitude ‘cause who knows how shitty it could end up being. I think those were Custer‘s last words.” Paul winked at Kelvin.
Kelvin blushed a little and Jenna gave him a slap on the arm to snap him out of his stupor.
Eddie only smiled at the fake historical reference. Everyone knew Custer’s last words were “Ah, shit.”
Paul walked away from the door opening limping slightly; his knee stiff from sleeping on the bus in an awkward position. When he stepped out of the shadow of the bus and into the direct morning sun, he turned towards the light and closed his eyes to absorb as much of the warmth as he could; like he was charging his solar cells for the day to come.
Ellie and Dick came out of the bus last. They paused at the top of the stairs in a quiet argument. Then, as they descended, Dick grabbed Ellie’s elbow in an attempt to keep her close. This commotion drew the attention of the other passengers who turned to see what was going on. Embarrassed, Ellie yanked free of Dick’s grip, jumped the last two steps off the bus and stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. The momentum of this action sent her on a collision course with Paul, but she was able to recover from her graceless exit coming up short of actually landing in Paul's arms. Ellie caught Paul's eye and gave him a brief, awkward smile then promptly disengaged not wanting to rile up Dick any further. But instead of rejoining her boyfriend Ellie stayed where she was and hovered in Paul's general area.
Having nothing more to see regarding Ellie, everyone turned to watch the drama king make his entrance.
Dick stomped down off the bus giving Ellie and Paul the evil eye.
“Hey, I slept like crap. Sorry! Okay?” Dick said defensively to everyone.
Marion threw Dick a glare, the fire that seemed to emanate from her eyes was intense enough to bubble paint. She drew Cindra back away from the bus and the source of the offensive language and fumed at Dick, “There are children present!”
Dick made an overly dramatic visual scan of the area then looked at Marion, “I only see one.” He laughed at his attempt at humor. He got nothing but blank stares in return. “Get it? There's only one child...not children.” Still, he got no acknowledgment of his joke and waved his hand towards the group as he turned away from them. “Fuck you all too!” He said under his breath as he walked away from the unappreciative audience.
Then Dick noticed Steph and checked her out as she stood in the morning light. He nodded his head in appreciation. Dick looked back around to the group and saw that Ellie had turned away from him, so he strolled over in Steph’s direction.
To distract themselves from the uncomfortable situation with Dick the passengers pulled out their cell phones. They spent a bit of time holding them up in different directions and at weird positions trying to find the perfect spot to locate a signal. An outside observer might imagine them as a flock of plastic yard flamingos preening in the morning sun. None had any luck and they each turned off their phones in frustration.
Eddie also checked his phone again and pocketed it after he saw no signal. The start of this new day was going to be just a continuation of the night before; all shit show all the time. He looked at the passengers, adjusted his cap, again, and cleared his throat, “Well, as a representative of Cascade Stage Lines I guess I’ll head on down the road a bit and see if I can find a house or someplace with a land line. You all sit tight. No point in all of us getting lost any further...”
Hearing this Dick turned from Steph and charged towards Eddie and aggressively poked the driver in the chest with his finger causing him to fall backward a few paces. “Look old man. We wouldn’t be here, lost, in the first place if you didn’t get off the main highway.”
Eddie straightened and stepped back towards the group. “We were running behind... Thought I would try this short cut I heard about... Look, I’m sorry. I must have taken a wrong turn because we should have been in Baker City by last night. Stay here. The company will be looking. Until then I'll go see what I can find.”
Approaching Eddie again, Dick said, “That don’t help much. I should just...” He clenched his fist getting ready to strike.
Paul took a slight step forward when he saw the bus driver reach behind his back going for the 9mm. But then he stopped as he watched the driver think twice about that move and brought his right hand around and stabbed a finger in Dick’s chest.
“Look, Dick!” Eddie stepped right up to Dick and stuck his finger in the guy's chest. “It was my grandson's birthday yesterday, and I was supposed to be home last night not here. I’m more scared of what my wife is thinking right now than I will ever be of you! So back the Fu...” Eddie saw Marion’s face begin to scrunch up and then quickly glanced down at Cindra. “So back the hell off.”
Dick, kowtowed by Eddie’s strong reaction, raising both hands up palms outward as he backed up and slunk off towards the scrub line and pretended to relieve himself.
Eddie straightened his jacket and went into the bus emerging with a small cooler and a thermos. “It ain’t much, but my wife packs me a few things to eat on these runs, just some crackers and stuff. Help yourselves.” Eddie adjusted his ponytail and pulled his cap down on his balding head. “You all just relax as best you can. I'm sure help will be here soon.”
With that, Eddie started walking down the road.
—— LIZ ——
LIZ TURNED THE nob and pushed the door of her dorm room open. She entered the small unit and turned up the AC. Even though it was only 9 am, Southeastern Arizona could heat up quickly. As she let the frigid air washed over her body, she wondered why Ft. Huachuca had been selected for her enhanced training; sometimes it was just too damn hot to concentrate on her classes; not to speak of the effect the heat had when it came to the physical exercises. Then the proverbial light bulb went on in her head; unless, any negative reaction she had to things such as temperature or the quality of the food or the meanness of the instructors could be used in evaluating her status, affecting her future assignment, or reassignment back behind a desk.
Sufficiently cooled down, Liz collapsed onto her bunk exhausted but feeling alive after the ten-mile run. Outside her window, she could hear the sounds of others going through training. The almost melodic voice of a drill instructor calling cadence drowned out the other sounds.
“Birdie, Birdie, in the sky,
you drop whitewash, in my eye,
I don't sigh. I don't cry,
I'm just glad, that cows don't fly!
Sound off!”
“One, Two.”
“Sound off...”
As the impromptu serenade from the marching trainees faded, Liz hopped up from her bunk, kicked off her running shoes and started removing her T-Shirt. She was ready for a nice cool shower to wash away the sweat and grime.
A solid knock on the door made her pause. Liz pulled her shirt back on then opened the door. Standing outside her room was her drill instructor, Master Sergeant Terry, a tall African-American man, in his early 40s, built for action. “Looks like you went and got yourself noticed Adams.” Liz gave him a questioning look. The DI continued, “You've been slotted for a unit. By the looks of this envelope, it's for one of those elite, secret outfits.” Terry held out a manila envelope.
Liz did a fist pump. “Yes!” She had been working for this moment these past weeks, hell the past year. First, she had to get through boot camp and prove that she could swim in the deep end with the boys. She knew that she could best most of them. So it didn't sit well with her when she was assigned desk detail at one of the many military installations outside D.C. Barely a month into that assignment, Liz got another similar looking envelope--without all the secret stamps--informing her that she had been selected to go through another form of basic training for evaluation of both her physical and mental skills. Passing would mean assignment to some unspecified, “important” duty anywhere the government deemed necess
ary. Failing would, more than likely, land her back behind a desk. And she did not want to go back to a desk job. Though, accepting that last offer the military made ended her up here, in this oven, 15 miles from Mexico for enhanced training.
Now Master Sergeant Terry was standing at her door with another, similar, envelope in his hand.
“It looks like they assigned you to something important and...secret,” Terry said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. He turned the envelope over displaying the SECRET word stamped in red on the front and back.
Never having been one to contain her emotions the excitement of the moment overwhelmed her and Liz gave the hard man a hug before he could fend off the assault. The master sergeant stiffened at the embrace and frowned at the display. Liz backed away from him as quickly as she could.
“I thought I had drilled that exuberant shit out of your system, Adams,” Terry said sternly. “It's what got you assigned to 'guarding' that keyboard in D.C. in the first place.”
“Sorry master sergeant.”
“Don't be sorry.” He reached up and nailed his finger into her forehead. “Use that head of yours.”
Liz swallowed hard and looked down at the envelope in his hand.
“One of my many functions is to identify candidates for this enhanced training program. I've been following your progress since your first week in basic when your DI flagged you as a potential. You didn't get assigned to a desk because you can't shoot a weapon or that you aren't fearless. What got you sitting at a computer is that often when presented with new input, you have a tendency to lose focus.
Liz looked up again and into that imposing face.
“When something catches you off guard you've gotta soldier up and concentrate. Take a moment to understand your situation. Then with knowledge, you can take the appropriate action. In our business, a lack of focus can get people killed. Come on; you know this.” The master sergeant stared intently into Liz's eyes.
“I know Master Sergeant. It's just that...”
“You get nervous. You project all the ways you can screw things up which makes you get flustered and instead of acting you react and end of doing silly shit that makes you look foolish.”
“Like hugging a master sergeant.”
“Yes. When you react like you just did you play into the cliché of a typical, emotional female. You have worked too hard to let other's stereotypical ideas of how a woman should perform to influence your life's path.”
Liz stood ridged listening wanting to defend herself, to counter what the master sergeant had been saying but knowing full well that he was right.
Terry looked at Liz frozen by what he had been saying and let his stone face crack a slight grin. “Listen...you will make a damned fine addition to whichever outfit has tagged you. But, because this world ain't fair, even in the twenty-first century you, as a woman, have to work twice as hard to prove that you are capable of anything asked of you.” He held up the envelope. “Now it appears that you have an assignment where the skills you have honed are needed. So remember what I have been telling you. Your training days are over. Out there it's real life. Your life and others.”
Sensing that Master Sergeant Terry had come to the end of his lecture, she lifted her head and smiled hesitantly. Pointing at the envelope, Liz asked, “Um, which one wants me? CIA, FBI, Army Intel?”
Terry's face returned to its hard stone facade. “Well, private, if I knew it wouldn't be much of a secret now would it. But I can tell you, that if I did know and told you I would find myself serving out the remainder of my career on the dark side of the moon and maybe my retirement as well.” He held out the manila envelope again offering it to her.
Liz accepted the envelope and looked at it. There was her name, Elizabeth Adams, printed on the front and in bold face, red type, SECRET and then Eyes Only. Master Sergeant Terry looked at her and watched the blood drain from her face. “I can't say that I have seen many top secret envelopes in my time, but I do know that this is no shit to mess with. You are instructed to open and read the contents in private.”
Liz just stood staring at the envelope not sure what to do, afraid of what she might find inside.
“Uh, look Adams...” Terry's voice softened, and he dropped his facade for a moment.
Liz looked up into his eyes. There, those unnaturally blue eyes do have some humanity, she thought. At this moment, she almost could see her father in those eyes. Her dad had that same look when she graduated from high school reassuring her that going off to college was the first of many great adventures.
“You shouldn't be surprised at any assignment they offer. You chose to accept the invitation to come to this enhanced training program just for such an opportunity.”
Liz lowered her head listening to the fatherly voice.
“You have earned this. No one let you slip past some glass ceiling. This is all you. Now it appears that your hard work has gotten you a posting, and I would guess that it has nothing to do with desks... Unless that's what you want?”
Liz backed into her room, head swimming, and sat on the edge of the bunk. “I...I know, it's just that now at the end, after so much work...I, I...” She placed the envelope on the bed beside her.
Back into character as the perfect drill instructor, Master Sergeant Terry belted out, “Soldier, come to attention!” Shocked, Liz popped up as she had been programmed to do. Terry leaned into her with his all too familiar hard face. “I did not train you to be a puss! And neither did my brother and sister DIs while you were in boot camp! Are you trying to malign our credibility?”
“Yes, Master Sergeant.”
“What?”
Louder, “Yes, Master Sergeant! I mean, no Master Sergeant!”
“You will not second guess yourself. Second guessing yourself implies that you are questioning my training, and you wouldn't be second guessing me, would you?”
“No, Master Sergeant!”
Terry grabbed Liz by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, smiling. “Good.” Liz relaxed feeling the strength and confidence of the drill instructor flow into her through his strong hands. He let her go and backed into the door opening. “Now read your secret message and find out your assignment.” He smiled. “Unless you lost your decoder ring.” He closed the door slowly but before it completely shut he popped it back open and poked his head in with a warm fatherly look. “Make me proud Adams.”
“I will Master Sergeant. Thank you.” Liz gave Master Sergeant Terry a smile as the door clicked closed leaving her alone.
Turning back to her bunk, she looked across at the envelope which was waiting for her patiently to open it. Liz took a hesitant step then another reaching the edge of the bunk. Slowly she reached down for the envelope and picked it up. Her heart was beating a cadence inside her chest more aggressively than that of any DI.
“Hidy hidy hidy ho.
Willie willie willie wo.
Lift your eyes up to the sky.
See Liz Adams walking by!”
Liz looked again at the envelope. She stared at the front of it with her name clearly typed and the red stamps declaring that this is a SECRET communication. The forceful and encouraging words from Master Sergeant Terry still rang in her ears, but she just looked at the unopened envelope and wondered what she had gotten herself into. Sure, it was one thing to get herself off to school when dad was still sleeping from pulling an all-nighter at the theatre, but it was a whole other thing when it came to opening a manila envelope which could mean a serious life altering change.
The voice of her dad came suddenly to her. “Come on slow poke! Gotta go. Hop to it.” Then her mother would add, “Ready Freddie?”
Liz’s life played out like a movie projected across the empty wall of her dorm room. There she was at age six standing in front of a drawer full of clothes. Her father was becoming increasingly frustrated that she couldn't choose what to wear even though is was time to be getting out the door and off to school. After he made a few suggestions, which she
rejected, he just started pulling clothes on her; not caring if anything matched. The comparison of trying to put a cat in a bag had been used to describe how difficult she made it for her dad. Then her mother appeared onscreen reminding Liz of the mantra she applied to just about everything, "I can do it myself!"
Both of her parents had told her often over the years that they would’ve rather had a strong willed girl than a pansy. But, honestly, Liz believed that a child like her would drive anyone nuts.
From the moment she was born, Liz functioned as an autonomous creature within the family. Her parents used to joke that she was a little alien living in her mother ready to spring forth and wreak havoc on the world.
As it turned out, having an independent streak was a good thing when the family that she seemed to resist broke apart. It wasn't one of those Life Time made-for-TV dramas. No melodramatics. Mostly it was unmet expectations that ended it all.
Liz's dad worked in the theatre. Set design was his passion, or so he believed. He was a good guy but worked way harder and longer than the paycheck justified. Something about art. When her mother could no longer take the uncertainty of his income, she went looking for a more stable life.
The divorce happened when she was twelve. Her parents made it as painless as possible for her. Liz wasn’t used as a pawn and had it quite easy, but she missed the familiarity of a home with two parents even with the tension and unexpressed emotions.
Her mother did find stability in a job that she excelled in, but from a personal point of view, she was always searching for a spiritual place that was elusive for her to grasp. The earth goddess may have had some calming effects on her mother, but those benefits did not translate over to Liz's life.
So, whether she was at her mom’s or dad’s she still had to make things happen the “Liz way”. But, that independent streak slowly morphed into a defensive barricade masking her more insecure feelings. Being a tough go-your-own-way little girl gave her parents the misguided reassurance that they weren't ignoring their daughter. They believed that they were giving her space to be a free spirit, but in reality, she found herself increasingly craving a more stable, structured environment within which to live. Not finding one, she raised herself as she shuffled between two houses never being comfortable in either and falling into the habit of making things happen the “Liz way.” But the lack of adult guidance nagged at her.