“My brother,” he seethes the words through his teeth, “isn’t just some memory. And if you can’t support me and my dream, if you can’t be fucking happy for me that I earned something and fought hard for it, then this looks like it was the best decision of my life, cause it’s saving me from waiting another ten years to find out what a waste of time this relationship has been.”
My hand flashes in front of my face like a hummingbird wing, a sting spreads through my palm as it lands across his cheek. Luckily, the sound of the slap drowns out the sound of my heart breaking. We both stare at each other, tears blur my eyes and slide down my cheeks.
“I want to go home,” my voice is ice. Mack doesn’t grab me and pull me close, or run his hand through my hair and tell me it’s all going to be ok. Instead, he slips his clothes back on and steps up into the golf cart, staring straight ahead, his jaw is set.
I slide in next to him and we sit in silence as we drive back toward the country club. The air has a chill to it now and as it whooshes around my ears, I can hear our love story again on the wind. But this time, it’s being told in past tense.
And nothing will ever be the same again.
5
Mack
2012
"I'll be happy when we're done winning over hearts and minds for the day, sir." Corporal Thompson mutters as the camera crew is busy taking shots of the landscape for their footage.
Landscape. That's hilarious. By landscape I mean endless sea of sand. We're not on high enough ground to really enjoy the mountains that Afghanistan has to offer, instead we're deep in her bowels. Gritty, dirty, brown expanses for as far as the eye can see.
"Keep your head up, Corporal. This last Shura will be about forty-five minutes and then we can get back to the base for some grub." I reassure him.
Truth is, I'm not so sure how much time we should be wasting on these Shura expeditions either. Every time we trek all over hell's half acre to meet the village elders and have a pow-wow with them about how we’re here to help, not hurt, them and their kids, I can't help but feel like we're the butt of a national joke.
People aren't idiots, they know a propaganda campaign when they see one. It's difficult to occupy a country in war and also try to convince its citizens that you're not the enemy. That's the real battle, and I'm not sure we're ever gonna win that one.
"I'll tell ya, I can't wait to get back. I hope with the time difference it's not too late to get a hold of Nadine," Thompson squints and twists his head as he tries to solve the time zone equation in his head. "Three weeks. It's crazy how it's so short, but feels so long."
"It'll fly by, Corporal." I reassure him.
But I know it's a lie.
Kids waiting for Christmas ain't got nothing on us. After over 14 months of duty, the last three weeks will make molasses look like an Olympic sprinter. In some ways it feels like I was just getting settled into camp yesterday. In other ways it feels like this stretch of time has somehow expanded beyond my own lifeline. Like I was born into this war. Like I’ll die from it.
"Don't worry, you'll be back with her soon."
I watch as the camera crew from CNB gathers around the silver haired news anchor who's come to capture a glimpse of our time over here. They've been following us for damn near a week, pulling guys aside with little interviews, and generally disrupting our routine. It's the nature of the beast though. Without news coverage, we'd get no support back home. People get too caught up in the morality of the war, and forget that there are real people torn from their real lives fighting it.
The news guy, Cooper Sanders, has been great as far as these guys go. He's been real gung-ho about experiencing everything for himself. When I first met him, I wrote him off as just another Hollywood type. Full of Botox and bravado, but he's kept up with us pretty good. Even running an obstacle course we threw together, in full gear, just for shits and giggles. He’s good in my books. Even if he does wear make-up.
I let my eyes travel over to his personal make-up artist, Tiffany. She’s clearly been watching me for a while cause her face lights up like a light bulb when she notices my gaze.
I shouldn’t have fucked her.
"I hope you're right, Captain," Thompson continues. "I just got a bad feeling ya know? I know there's only a few weeks left, but I keep thinking this is when we're gonna get in the shit. If I could cut it short and go home today, I'd be on the first flight out. I just wanna be back with my woman and meet my son!"
"We know, Thompson. We know." Corporal Armstrong interrupts. "Most of the guys just wanna get home and get some poon, man. You though ... all you keep going on about is meeting a baby. Me, I'm gonna get back to the US and try to make babies with every girl who gives me the time of day. Just try to make em, mind ya. Not get all hormonal about actually having them, like this guy." Armstrong throws his arm around Corporal Thompson’s neck and tugs his head under his armpit in a headlock.