Edited by Barney R with my thanks. Tweaked by me, so the bonehead mistakes are mine.

This story was inspired by the Patty Loveless Song of the same name and written by Gretchen Peters. Not all of the elements will apply.

I found the ring and the note when I came home from work. Kimberley had been on a bitching tirade and spending spree again, so I took all of the coaching jobs offered just to keep away.

The note was short and to the point: ‘You don’t even know who I am. You left me a long time ago. So, what do you care if I go’.

I was both surprised and not surprised that she left. The last six to eight months have been like living in an icebox as far as affection went. But the place was a furnace as far as arguments went.

My name is Roger English. I went through high school with Kimberley (Kim) Graceson being a year behind me. We dated a few times, but I knew I was headed to the Army, so I kept it light. Kim was more interested in going on dates than who it was she was dating and developed a sordid reputation. By the time I graduated, Kim had used up all the senior class and a lot of the junior class boys.

After graduation, I spent two weeks just vegging out before I was to start basic training. I had a four-year commitment and was going to learn a skill. I didn’t know what skill, but a skill. I was lucky, I was not a victim of the typical U. S. Army gotcha, I was taught medical equipment repair and electronics. Then I got a small but good gotcha, I was sent to the Defense Language Institute Foreign Language Center and was taught Spanish. I liked it so much that I signed on for two more years and went back and learned Mandarin.

I was on assignment in Germany, when a NATO base in Spain had a problem that was beyond their capabilities, and they had no Spanish speakers available to fix the problem. It turns out a local Spanish civilian hospital had an x-ray machine that just quit on them. I fixed it, and for the next seven months, I was shuttled back and forth from Germany and Spain doing local and military repairs. I was told I made the U. S. a lot of new friends.

When my time in Europe was up I went home for six weeks before I needed to report to Taiwan. I often saw Kim. She was never alone, and always with a different guy. From the looks of it, she hadn’t changed.

I had had about a week left on my leave before I needed to report to the transit barracks for shipping out. I was reading a very good mystery novel when my mother told me I had a call. It was Kim.

“OK, Jerk, why haven’t you called? Do I have some kind of do not interfere sign on my forehead? I know you have seen me several times, but you never stopped to talk.”

“It’s good to hear from you too, Kim. I didn’t stop, because you were never alone. I did not need or want to be introduced to that day’s poor schmuck that you were with. Goodbye Kim.” I hung up.

About two minutes later the phone rang again. As I had not gotten up to replace the handset, I answered it. It was a tearful Kim.

“What did you mean by that asshole? I like male company, and we have not ever had an exclusive commitment. I can go out with anyone I want.”

“That’s your problem, Kim. You want to go out with someone new every night. You know that you are considered the town slut don’t you?” I heard a gasp but continued almost yelling; “I would not go out with you again unless you could show me a current clean bill of health from the health department, and a notarized letter from your pastor saying you had been celibate for the last six months.” I heard the dial tone.

I decided to report early to the transit point. I did not need the drama, and I was not used to being idle. When I arrived, there was a message for me to report to the base headquarters. When I arrived, I was shown to Adjutant’s office.

After all of the military protocols were taken care of the adjutant showed me a requisition form from the language school. They needed any personnel with language skills to fill the need for Middle Eastern interpreters. The training would commence ASAP and all successful candidates would receive a two-step promotion to a maximum of E-7 Sergeant First Class. The downside was it also added 18 months to your current enlistment.

The adjutant told me they had searched through all incoming personnel and there were only two people who qualified. The other soldier was almost finished with his enlistment and opted out. So, as I was the only qualified candidate for now, would I be interested?

As I was three quarters committed to an army career, and I love learning new languages, I told him to put my name in for it.

Two days later, rather than flying to Taiwan, I headed to D. C. for school again. I learned Arabic, Farsi, Pashto, and Dari. I was then sent to Bagram Air Base to help interrogate prisoners.

I had been there slightly more than three months when we had a rash of blue on green* incidents. I had overheard two Afghanis talk of a planned attack on the mess hall when the base commander was going to be there. After I notified the MP’s and the commander’s office, I was attacked by one of the plotters in revenge because someone told the plotters that I had seen to it that the plan was blown. The grenade they tossed fell behind a short stone wall, but when it exploded, the rock and shrapnel did some damage.

I received some wounds to my right arm and both legs that got me airlifted to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, Germany and then to Walter Reed Army Hospital. While at Walter Reed, I developed an infection and lost my left foot and about four inches of the leg.

After rehab, I was given a medical discharge and a 70% disability pension. I would always walk with a hitch in my step. My left leg prosthesis caused an unusual gait.

I had been taking classes at the online college and was within twelve credits of my bachelor’s in Secondary education with a second major in foreign languages. So, I decided to finish college before returning home.

My electronics education was out of date, but I still puttered around with it and had patented a couple of neat gadgets that had paid me very well when I licensed them. With that and the savings that I had from my service and hospital time, I was 27 and financially secure for several years.

I finished my degree and had interned (student teaching) at a private high school in my home town. With my brand-new teaching certificate, and with an offer of a position at the school, I moved back to my home town. My class assignments were Spanish I & II, Arabic I & II and a study hall monitor**.

When the teachers reported to the school, I was surprised to see Kim there. I had no idea she had studied to be a teacher. She pulled me aside and asked if I would take her for coffee. We went to a nearby diner.

She told me that she had straightened up her act and quit dating a chump of the week. She then discovered that learning was fun, and after a year of a community college, she went to one of the four-year colleges and got her degree and teaching certificate in English with a minor in music.

To show me that she had not forgotten our last conversation, she showed me a health department form showing the results of her STD tests, she also showed me a doctor’s statement stating she was Virgo Intacto.

I looked at her and thought ‘why is she showing me this, I have no intention of dating where I work’. I must have muttered it as I was thinking of because I got a slap in the face and a sight picture of elbows and shoe soles as she walked away.

After the school year was finished, I was informed that I would not be offered professional status (tenure). It seems that the local Arab Muslim Imam was angered that a non-Arab was teaching ‘the holy language’ of Islam. I just laughed and said fine but told them to remember me when one of the students pulls a ‘Columbine’ because the teacher was using the jihadist playbook to teach the class. Then I pointed out that my contract was for three years, and they were required to pay me an additional two years’ salary as I was not being fired for cause.

With check in hand, I went to a local Muslim community center and offered my services as a paid interpreter at a very reasonable rate for any legal issues their community might have. They were very pleased with my offer as most of the local police and courts would not accept an Arab or any middle easterner as an interpreter. I found it ironic that the school caved to one person, and the community embraced me with open arms.