The Story Begins (30 page)

“Kind of,” admitted Phil.

“Let me guess, you might have called her once or twice since being out here. And now that I called Lydia, who I barely know, Cassandra is probably wondering how you couldn’t find the time to call her, she being your girlfriend and all.”

“That about sums it up. Shit!” Sergeant Phil felt the need to say yet again.

“Yeah, I’d say “shit” is about right.”

“Well, no sense in dwelling on it,” Phil reasoned.

“Your wisdom is truly profound,” Jaden said sarcastically.

“Screw you, sir.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who messed up.”

Sergeant Phil jumped out of the makeshift hammock. “The DFAC should be open now. Do you think you can stomach one more completely disgusting and altogether revolting meal?” he asked, grimacing.

“What choice do I have in the matter?’ Jaden replied, getting up as well.

“It’s always a gamble with death going to that DFAC. The excitement generated by the suspense and anticipation associated with wondering just how disgusting the food will be the next time I go there has been the highlight of my days here,” Phil said, placing a hand on his stomach, his expression rueful as he agonized over what he was soon to ingest.

“The highlights of your days, unfortunately, have also been the low points of our health. That dining facility was built next to the hospital for a reason,” said the Lieutenant as they made their way to dinner.

*

MEANWHILE:
“Pontius Pilate says hi,” said Lydia as she placed the phone in a purse sleeve.

“Pontius Pilate?” asked Cassandra.

“When I asked who it was, first he said Pontius Pilate before deciding to go with Julius Caesar. First he tells me that he steals cars then he’s Pontius Pilate… silly boy!” She smiled. “You know, when he says things, as outrageous as they may be even when I know that it isn’t true – like Pontius Pilate – there is something in his voice that makes him sound so convincing. He’d make for a good politician.”

“He does strike me as being kind of lighthearted; just with a mix of something else that I can’t put into words. Not sure if good or bad, but definitely something very, very different,” said Cassandra.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Lydia concurred.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably the very same that has his soldiers so captivated. I wish you had been there. You see what I saw while at Coleman Barracks only on TV; to actually witness that kind of effect on people in person is kind of cool but also unnerving.”

“Well, whatever it is about him that makes him seem unlike the average person, we just may have a chance at delving a little deeper at it,” Lydia apprised Cassandra.

“Really!”

“Yes, he’d like us all to get together when they get back, hangout as we did before.”

At that Cassandra frowned.

Lydia didn’t understand. “What’s wrong?”

“You two can get together, and maybe Phil – if he dares – but I won’t be there.”

“And why might that be?” asked Lydia.

“The entire time Phil’s been gone, he’s called only twice. And here’s Jaden, who isn’t even your boyfriend, calling you randomly.”

Lydia smiled. “Don’t be upset. Maybe Phil’s been busy and just needs some rest at the end of the day.”

“Still, I’d expect at least a text message saying that he’s thinking of me if nothing else.”

Lydia casually leaned across the table and asked a question, though she already suspected what the response might be. “Have you tried calling him?”

“No,” Cassandra affirmed.

“Is there a reason you haven’t?”

“No,” Cassandra answered.

“Are you upset?”

“Yes,” Cassandra grumbled.

“Doesn’t he also have the right to be just as upset with you as you are with him? After all, you could just as easily have called him? And, mind you, I’m sure his workday is far busier than is yours, sweetie.”

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed.

“Do you see where I am going with this?” Lydia asked, her speech gentle as that of an adult wishing to reason with a child.

“Yes.”

“But you’re still upset?” asked Lydia.

“Of course,” Cassandra was quick to say.

“I wonder if God meant for it to be like this when he created us, wiring men and women so differently.”

“As Phil likes to say, ‘it is what it is,’” Cassandra said.

“Must be an American saying; Jaden said those same words, which had me thrown until I thought about it.”

“Okay. I’ll be just hard enough on Phil to make sure that there isn’t any repeat behavior. I feel like I’m teaching a puppy obedience. I should be a little more understanding; they are, after all, just men.”

“You terrible, terrible girl!” Lydia teased in response to Cassandra’s lighthearted though cutting remark. “I’ll humor your totally unjustified pouting and pretend with you that Phil is entirely to blame.” They laughed.

“One of the first things, if not the very first thing, Phil’s probably going to do when he gets back is to get hammered,” Cassandra said.

Yet more American parlance lost upon Lydia. “Hammered? Is something broken where he lives?”

Cassandra laughed. “I thought the same when I first heard him say that. No, apparently hammered is American slang for getting very drunk,” she explained. “I think very, very drunk, actually.”

“I see!” said Lydia indignantly.

“No, no, silly. Not like that,” Cassandra was quick to say having observed Lydia’s less–than-amused expression. “Phil isn’t a drunkard, love, but not being able to drink all this time while on the exercise, I’m sure he and his friends plan on making it up.”

Lydia was eased by the explanation. “I wonder if Jaden drinks. He doesn’t strike me as the type.”

“No, he doesn’t strike me as such either,” Cassandra agreed. “Perhaps a drink or two occasionally, but I really can’t picture him as the getting “hammered” type. The image just isn’t becoming of him.”

“Oktoberfest should be fun for Phil then, assuming he goes at some time,” Lydia said. “He’ll be in heaven, I’m sure. Hopefully not literally,” she joked. “Are we ready?”

At that Cassandra looked over at all the different flavors of ice cream, each one of them beckoning to her. “Another helping?” she asked.

Lydia smiled. “Yes, I think so,” she said, getting up.

As Lydia and Cassandra were walking back to their table each with a triple scoop cone in hand, Jaden and Sergeant Phil were walking back to their quarters, wishing that they hadn’t eaten of the half-cooked meat the cooks swore was edible.

“Dude, I swear I now fully appreciate the maxim ‘choose your battles wisely,’” said a nauseated Jaden. “I should have known that I wouldn’t have won this one. I should have heeded my gut, literally, when my very first meal here sent me to the latrine like five damn times in three hours. I just thought that maybe I could build up some kind of tolerance, you know… I swear that chicken I just had was still half alive. If that thing jumped out of my plate and started marching and singing cadence then culminated the act by stabbing me in the face, I would not have been the least bit surprised.”

“Roger, sir,” agreed the sergeant, nursing his stomach in obvious discomfort. “I’m with you. I think I’ll head back to the barracks, grab my sleeping bag and camp right outside the CSH’s emergency room. I may not even go to sleep tonight… I don’t want to die in my sleep.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass on sleeping too. There’s no way of knowing if you’re dying when you’re asleep and the last thing I need right now is to wake up dead only to discover that there is a God and that hell is very real,” joked Jaden.

EARLY
THE FOLLOWING MORNING: Having been deprived of any form of entertainment during the three-week long exercise, the soldiers were very anxious to return to Mannheim. A comprehensive briefing was given by the company commander, detailing all precautions that were to be considered on their journey back. He concluded his safety briefing by announcing that the convoy’s maximum speed was to be “around 65 km per hour.” He, however, was not under any delusions that his troops would actually adhere to the speed guidance. And it was because he knew his troops all too well, and suspecting that they were not likely to defer to the speed limit, he had purposely scheduled an early morning departure of 0300 hours. Departing at that hour would guarantee the convoy roads would be devoid of any traffic, other than perhaps an occasional civilian vehicle. Captain Peterson appointed Jaden to lead the convoy.

Jaden was just as eager as the others to get home. Though Captain Peterson would have trusted Jaden to lead the convoy regardless, his rather vague guidance on the speed limit and appointment of Jaden to head the convoy had been calculated ploys. He was quite eager to get home as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the soldiers to communicate through unspoken words; Captain Peterson trusted that Jaden would extrapolate the real intent of his ambiguity concerning the speed of the convoy without taking it to an extreme. Quite apt was the captain’s choice for as far as Jaden was concerned, “around 65km per hour” was somewhat equivocal and thus open to interpretation.

Never would the captain have assigned the task of leading the convoy to Lieutenant Krappa. His perception of the lieutenant was he was much too rigid, boring, and pompous. Captain Peterson was fairly certain that had he instructed Krappa to travel no faster than 2km per hour, that’s precisely what the lieutenant would have done.

After radio communication confirmed that all convoy vehicles had exited the gate, Jaden had his driver increase the speed, pacing the convoy at 50mph, 15km per hour faster than the “around 65km per hour” guidance.

“Are you a betting man?” Jaden asked his driver, Private Madison. “If you are, how much do you want to bet that Lieutenant Krappa will be on the radio as soon as he realizes that we’ve picked up speed and remind us that we are supposed to set the pace based on kilometers and not miles?”

“What do you take me for, sir?” the Private asked, laughing. “You know I won’t bet against you on this. I’d lose.”

No sooner had the private spoken his last word than Lieutenant Krappa’s voice came over the radio. “Delta 6, this is Delta 1, over.”

“Like clockwork,” Jaden said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Good God! How anal can a person be? Can you believe that he’s trying to get a hold of the CO to bitch about us not following the captain’s guidance strictly?”

“Stay cool, sir, you knew it was coming. Like you said, clockwork.”

“Yeah, I know. Still, it’s just mind-blowing and so annoying,” Jaden said in disgust.

Captain Peterson’s voice then came over the radio. “Delta 1, this is Delta 6, go ahead, over!”

“Roger Delta 6! Lead element is not in compliance with travel guidance, over!”

Now it was Private Madison who was getting annoyed. “Sir, no disrespect to his rank but does the lieutenant not realize that the same company commander that he’s communicating with is in this very same convoy and aware, I’m sure, of just how fast we are going… I mean, he could just as easily have come on the radio himself and advised us to decelerate if that was what he wanted.”

“Of course Krappa knows. The guy’s just…” Jaden paused. “…I don’t know what word I’m looking for.”

“That’s probably because the word doesn’t exist, sir.”

The Lieutenant laughed. “You just might be right.”

There was a rather long pause on the radio. Perhaps the captain was hoping that someone would disrupt the frequency, Jaden thought.

“Delta 6, this is Delta 1… did you copy last trans-?” Krappa didn’t have a chance to finish his transmission. If the captain was indeed waiting for someone to disrupt the frequency, his wish was realized. Both primary as well as alternate frequencies suddenly broadcasted white noise.

“Oops! It would seem as though the radios are malfunctioning,” sneered Jaden.

“Roger that, sir.” Madison smiled.

Krappa, however, still didn’t seem to understand that he was the only one who sought to go against the grain. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed Captain Peterson’s number. The captain ignored the call.

“Let’s provoke him even more, shall we? The roads will be clear right up until we approach the outskirts of Mannheim; increase to and cruise at 55 mph,” Jaden instructed his driver.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” shouted Madison before accelerating.

“If Lieutenant Krappa didn’t get the message then, he will now. We’ll cruise at 55 mph, once we come up on Mannheim, adjust speed accordingly,” Jaden repeated.

“You’re the boss, sir!”

The convoy had traveled a few minutes shy of an hour when Jaden noticed a peculiar fog at the top right corner of the windshield. He wiped upon the glass only to discover that the substance was on the outside. Lowering his window then reaching out and around to clear it, he perceived that what he had believed to be upon the windshield, wasn’t; and what he had thought a fog appeared to be a steadily distending, peculiar, nebula-like substance. Its darkened glow might have hinged upon ominous. Though close was the phenomenon he beheld, its reach lay just beyond the vehicle’s bumper. He sat back properly in his seat. Madison seemed to be oblivious to both the lieutenant’s actions as well as the fog-like abnormality.

Though the cloudy matter had initially been small, circular and hollowed, it had grown in mass and was comparable in measure to the circumference of a large vehicle’s wheel. It seemed like it might be living matter. It traveled at the fore of them at a velocity consistent with that of the moving vehicle. As it traveled it gyrated, whirling at a rate of motion so rapid that it appeared as though a body stilled, only traveling forward. As the road curved, so too did it meander, and though ahead, it kept in perfect symmetry with the vehicle.

Jaden was unsure as to what to make of it. Having awakened at an hour he suspected even God might have been snoozing, he thought perhaps that he had fallen back asleep and this was but a dream. He was almost of the conviction that he had to be dreaming for that which he looked upon, he believed, was impossible; clouds were not perfectly hollowed out doughnuts that spun faster than the eye could keep up with and travel at speeds consistent with another moving object. He considered asking Madison if he could see what he saw but decided against it, reasoning that if Madison had seen such a sight, surely he would have mentioned it. An unnatural occurrence such as this couldn’t be overlooked by anyone nor could anyone have possibly witnessed the event yet not say a word. Then a flaw in his logic occurred to him; he looked upon the impossible yet said not a word, Madison was perhaps simply reacting in similar fashion. Jaden then decided that Madison was altogether unaware of the manifestation; he believed that Madison hadn’t had otherworldly events happily find a niche in his life as had Jaden in his own upon his arrival to Germany. He was certain that the surreal and curious moments in his life of late was why he was not afraid. Jaden was of the mind that most people who looked at that which his eyes were transfixed upon, would have, at the very least, acknowledged it verbally; and for those who emotions lay at the other end of the spectrum, to simply alight the vehicle regardless of its momentum.