Finding Hope in Texas (23 page)

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 began 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 together
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.