Chapter 1

5, July 2000

Dear Isabelle,

1:42am

Well, where am I? On a greyhound bus, with forty other guys, every single one of them is quiet. No one is talking, I heard one guy go into the bathroom awhile ago, and when he came back out I saw that he looked almost like the cartoon character that got sick. I think I will name him, Elmer. Heh, it seems strange to me now, that I can even notice small things like that, because when you think about it, in a few hours I will be in the same position as these guys. I am not even sure what I am going to do the moment I step off this bus and have some guy screaming at me to move, move, move. The guy I am sitting next to on the bus says his brother told him, 'It is a bunch of Hurry up and wait.' Hurry up and wait, doesn't that sound like growing up? As children all we could do was to be in a hurry to grow older, but we had to wait. Then as adults we realize we were so stupid. Ha, I am only 18 and even I know that. I am on a bus to join the country's 'fighting boys', how's that for trying to grow up too quickly? Anyway, I need to tell you something, it is about when I left Joy's house yesterday. Well in all honesty, I need to ask you something as well. So here goes, and hopefully you will forgive my stupidity for being a coward.

Remember when we were all out on the deck, just enjoying the quiet? When I looked over at you I saw you staring at me, I knew right away you caught me staring back. But you never said a word, and I feel so stupid for not asking you to go for a walk. Would you have said yes? Would you have asked me why all I could do was stare at you? Maybe I would have been able to tell you then, that I have stared at you like that since we first met at the camping grounds, that one year. God, five years ago seems like a life time!

You came with the Mackenzie's, every summer. It had just been us, as in the Blackmore's and the Mackenzie's. No friends were allowed, just the families but then you came that year, and broke my heart. Did you even know I couldn't speak, did you not wonder why all I did was nod my head grinning, or shaking? God what a fool I was.

2:31am

Scratch just woke up, that's my buddy next to me. He was snoring loudly on the bus seat about a minute ago. The reason I call him Scratch is because he is always scratching his head. Well ... he weaseled my nick-name out of me, a nick-name I've been trying to hide from all my life.

"Scout? People call you scout? Like a boy scout?" he asked me in that very northern drawl.

Well, I guess like his brother says, 'Every guy in the military will earn himself a nickname, unless he has a good one already ... That's why I was called rug.'

He tells me this as if it was supposed to explain something. When I gave him that famous 'either speak or shut up look', he laughed and said, "My brother is hairy as an ape man."

My god, is that what this military has come to? Giving people weird or embarrassing names because they want to sound like those movies? So many questions, and so little time to ponder. Elmer went to the bathroom again. This time it was quick but he looks even worse now. As he passed me I offered him a smile of 'It's ok man, no worries.' He nodded his head in thanks, then quickly went back to his seat.

God, this letter has begun to run on and ramble I guess, I am not exactly sure what is in my head right now. At first I thought perhaps it was just nerves, but now I am thinking it is me needing you to be my priest, my dirty confessor, hell I don't know. Just please bear with me and do not try to pass too much judgment on me.

Well, the driver just announced that we will be there soon, so I guess it is time to tell you what I have waited five years and one month to say. Last night when you ran off and would not speak to me again before you left, all I could do was to wish that I was hugging you tightly and telling you that I love you. Maybe you would have returned the same words ... I don't know, but I wish you would have.

Joseph

The ringing was what initially woke Joseph up from the start of what was hopefully a very good dream, then the quiet again. Joseph groaned just slightly, and rolled over in the bed, his head spinning just slightly but that was ok. He could sleep it off. Tomorrow he had nothing to do, he thought. Friday was his day off, or at least what he considered his day off. Getting up at nine in the morning was a blessing for him. Groaning quietly again, he rolled to the side of his bed. Each time he tried to focus on the numbers on his clock, they would slowly shift out of whack. Better off going back to sleep he thought, at least then that incessant ringing would quit.

Rolling back onto the other side of the small bed, he closed his eyes and in his half sleep, half awake slumber he thought to himself, what was that ringing? It wouldn't stop and wait ... why was it in short bursts like a phone? Was he finally losing his marbles? One day of being a civilian and he was already going nuts?

Bolting upright, he quickly knew what that ringing was. It was a phone, yes a phone, those things people called each other on. Quickly scooting to the edge of his bed, he stood. While his legs seemed strong enough to hold him up, his head sure felt like it wouldn't. Walking over to the wall beside his bathroom, he picked up the handset and brought it tentatively to his head, hoping that it wasn't some emergency with his unit. Wait, what unit? he thought, I am a free man.

"Sergeant Blackmore, who is this?" he asks warily. They couldn't possibly be bringing him back could they?

"Joseph! Do you have any clue what time it is right now?" an almost shrill voice screamed into the phone.

His eyes quickly snapped back to his alarm clock, on the military looking night stand. Three in the morning. Why would his mother be calling him at three in the morning, half way around the world? Did something happen? Did dad get in an awful wreck?

"Mom is dad ok? Was Luke in an accident?" he asks, his head and voice quickly becoming clear and precise.

"No, but I have been calling you for the last half hour. Your flight leaves in exactly one hour and seven minutes..." his mother intoned to him, clearly knowing without even asking why he was not awake.

"What fli ... Oh god the wedding, the flight ... The ... Holy fuck! Bye mom, I will see you tomorrow! I gotta go. Love you!" he said quickly, staring at his room, and looking at the blankets of his bed which were only a sheet and a rough wool blanket.

"Holy what?!? Just because you are speaking to your ... Oh fine. Hurry up honey, You had a long night, I'll bet. Make sure not to miss your connector and we will leave your jeep in the over-night parking. Third row from the right. I left you something under the seat. Don't forget to look. We are at the Mackenzie's, if you get stuck, give us a call there."

"Mom, wait. I am not sure I will be able to stop by their house before the wedding. I don't think I will have the time. Go ahead if I am not there and I will see you at the church."

"Oh, your father and I already figured that would be the case. We left you directions just in case you need them they're in the glove compartment," she said in the classic motherly knowledge.

"Mom ... I ... Well ... Will... , " Joseph quietly says. Not daring to voice the question he so badly wanted to ask.

"Yes dear, she will be there. Now hurry up and catch your flight. I love you, make sure you shave." Always the mother, Joseph thought with just the faintest of chuckles.

Hanging up the phone, Joseph looked around. This was the last time he would look at this room and he wanted to take a good long look. Three years here and what had he done with it? Sadly, he thought, nothing. There was the lone picture on the wall of Luke, Joy, Alissa, and Isabelle but what else?

Looking around the sparse confinement he could only laugh. Nothing. That was the scary fact. Nothing had been done beyond the basic essentials. He used to have a television in the corner but that was before he gave it to Sergeant Morales two days ago, along with the stand it came with. The writing desk that had also been used as a night-stand, had nothing but a lamp and alarm clock on it. The lime green cement walls had certainly been meant for more than just that one picture. But with a dreadful feeling, he had picked up some of the superstitions of the army. Rule number one he would remind himself, never leave too much for a buddy to have to clean out. It was supposed to make it easier and less heart breaking on the poor guy who had to clean out your locker and room.

It wasn't that he really believed it but he had to clean out one of his privates' lockers two weeks after he got to the base. Not a pleasant experience, especially since he barely knew the guy. His buddies looked at Joseph as if he was the devil himself while doing it, but Joseph had taken his responsibilities to heart and knew that he would expect no less of someone else.

'Writing the letter', as they would call it. That was what deadened his senses. It was supposed to be short and to the point but it wasn't. He couldn't help telling the private's mother and father that he barely knew the man, but was so proud to have a hero like him in the squad. When the letter came back, he read it with a sense of fear. Asking around, not a single sergeant had ever received a letter back from a parent, but he had. Opening it with dread, all he had to do was read the first line to know that the parents blamed him for their loss.

Maybe that was why he did it, not out of superstition but knowing that every one of his men had parents who might blame the poor man writing them. Looking around the room, he felt a sudden jolt of elation and suspense. This was only a chapter in his life; he had much more to go. 'I made it, Joseph!' He heard in his head. 'I made it', that simple statement brought a warm joyous feeling, but then again that small corner of his soul that he'd made sure to wall off asked, 'Did you? Are you so sure you made it?'

Answering that question was not safe, Joseph reminded himself, not safe at all. Maybe when he got home, done with the wedding, done with seeing her. Only when he was old in his bed and almost dead would he answer that question.

Quickly packing up the last of what he had left till this morning; only small things really. Shaving kit, his dress uniform and the alarm clock. Beyond that were his notebook and a couple of pens. Throwing the things quickly into his pack, he walked over to the wall. Looking at the picture, he couldn't help but smile. It had been taken that trip when Isabelle came to the camp in southern Kentucky with the Mackenzie's for the first time.

All of them had a goofy grin, 'the terrible five' the parents had called them, but like most times in his life, he had chosen to stay behind the camera instead of in the picture. Arms around each other, the three girls and Luke. God, they all looked so young. Luke and Alissa both fifteen, Joy and Isabelle were both thirteen like him. Something more though was behind those smiles. Maybe the innocence, maybe the not knowing the future. Whatever it was, he doubted a picture of them now would reveal much more than simply happy grins, and if it did? What would they see? God he thought to himself what would it show?

Army green was his choice today. He knew he might catch hell from his captain but to hell with it, he thought, it's not like he doesn't do the same thing when he has a choice. The Captain was tall and lean, with black and gray sand speckled hair, a deep tan with a still rock hard body. He and his wife lived off base along with their two daughters, Emily and Melissa. The older of the two, Emily, being 24 and the youngest being 14.

The house they lived in always reminded Joseph of home. It had a warm welcoming atmosphere. While almost every Wednesday he was there for dinner with the family, he had always made sure to be polite and courteous but there was a sneaking suspicion with a lot of the base that the Captain had finally found a son in Joseph. He in return thought of them as his family.

Walking to the mirror in the bathroom, he watched closely as he finished his tie and buttoned his coat. Looking one last time, he nodded his head. Good shape, he had shaved before he went out the night before and was happy to admit shaving for him had never been a more than once a week routine. His black hair, short and closely cropped, was still growing in from the last hair-cut he had gotten.

While he had slowly grown out of his baby fat, he still looked young. At twenty six years of age, he sometimes still got carded when he went on leave to America. He was six feet tall, with a very athletic build. While he did not force himself to work on his body, which thanks to good genes came easily, he still would spend a couple hours a week in the gym. His gray eyes were one of the most striking features of his lean face, they seemed to be the color of a dark stormy sky. When he looked to both of his parents, who had blue eyes, he could not help but wonder sometimes; but then again, if he looked to his pure blooded Irish grandfather, he knew that instant he had been blessed with his black Irish roots.

The slight tan he had gotten since he came here was what set his lop-sided grin off. He would sometimes look mischievous when he gave that grin. Most men in his squad had quickly learned that if Sarge grinned like that, they were going to have very angry mothers at home, if they heard what he was planning.

In the green dress uniform, he looked slightly older, but not much. When he had originally come to the company, his Captain had asked if he was ready for jail or not. Unsure how to respond he said nothing. With a loud cackle of laughter, it was then explained to him that as young as he looked, most people would assume he had lied about his age to join. Only a groan escaped his lips as he shook his head at the Captain's humor.

Walking away from the mirror with a smirk, he could not help but remember that conversation, where it seemed each of them was playing chess; each trying to gain the upper hand and figure how to approach the other with what would end up as almost a father-son relationship. Going back to the wall with the phone, he picked it up and just for a moment stared at it. Gathering his thoughts, he dialed up the number he knew from heart.

"Captain Jones, that you Scout?"

The Captains gruff voice came over the line, it sounded as if he had long since been awake. But then again, Joseph thought, the man could go forty-five hours and still be wide-awake.

"Yes sir. Scout reporting for his last call, sir," Scout said quickly, almost too quickly he thought. If he had said anymore, he might lose his composure and not be able to speak.

"Good God son, your mother called here five times! Do you have any idea how much that woman scares me?" the man laughed loudly, "She thought you were going to miss your flight and have that pretty lass on your wall all alone for the wedding."

"Sir, I thought me taking your daughter out for the weekend would have scared you more than my poor dear old mother," Joseph quickly replied, his own laughter now filling his empty room. The empty room now resounded loudly with the noise.

"Son, my daughter would eat you for breakfast," the captain replied, laughing even harder, "You packed and ready to go, Scout?"

"Yes sir, just finished up. Remind me to tell you which of the men you should wake up early for some PT. The bastards had me out drinking and trying to celebrate my leaving."

"They're going to miss you. Perfectly natural to want to get drunk, especially when one of my men is leaving. Have yourself out of the barracks in five, son," the captain said, and then promptly hung up.

With a slightly bewildered look at the receiver as he pulled it away from his head, Joseph hung up the phone. Well, he thought, all I can expect is him to be quick. Although it surprised the young man, to think that the captain would be so quick to hang up, Joseph had wanted to speak to him more and thank him for all the help, and advice, he had received. Maybe the Captain expected this and decided he was finished talking.

"Oh well, might as well hurry. I still need to get to the carpool garage before I lose my ride."

Shaking his head again, this time with a touch of sadness, he walked over to the wall, looking one last time at the picture. He took it down from the wall. Putting it carefully in his pack, he zipped up the backpack and walked to the foot of his bed. Grabbing his green army duffel bag, he slung it over his right shoulder, while carrying the backpack by its handhold. He walked to the door, opening quietly so as not to disturb his neighbors, he turns around, closing the door, leaving it unlocked and his room key on the desk. Someone else's room now, Joseph thought. The walls will soon be staring emptily back at someone else.

Walking down the darkened hallways, he quickly put one foot in front of the other. He wasn't exactly sneaking away, he had told everyone he would be leaving this weekend, but didn't happen to mention that he actually had an early-morning flight on Friday. Not good at goodbyes, he wrote his squad and friends a short letter saying where he was going and his address. Then said goodbye. Short and simple he thought.

As he walked by the message board, he pinned it quickly to the cork board. Written on the envelope was simply 'From Sergeant Blackmore to ALL'. He knew he would get letters and calls from most of them but he still did not want to have all those people out there and have it get even sappier than last night at the bar.

Opening the door to the front of his barracks, he was slightly curious to see two cars parked close by; one a military Jeep, the second was a black Honda Civic. Even more curious was that they both had their engines running, their headlights shining brightly into the black, cool early morning. Then quickly the Jeep pulled up beside him as he started heading off to the garage. Looking to his left, he looked into the interior of the jeep, the top still on, he saw Captain Jones.

"Evening son, you going AWOL? I might be able to give you a lift," Captain Jones said with another growl of laughter.

"Sure sir, but I gotta have your word I will not end up in Timbuktu with a tattoo of a snake wrapped around a heart," Joseph said opening the door and tossing his duffel into the back and then pulling himself and his backpack into the front.

"I got that one in Burma, Scout. The drinking there ... Wow... !" Captain Jones smiled. Jones quickly put the car in gear and pulled away from the door, leaving the barracks and getting out onto the road.

"Oh yeah, sir, forgot that," he laughed loudly, as he looked over his shoulder spotting the black Civic again. "Sir, you aware you got a tail? You've had it since the barracks."

"Wow, that was very observant ... That is Marge and Emily. They both wanted to see you off, so I thought we would take you to the airport." the older man said sadly, "Sorry about Mel, she just couldn't do it ... Poor thing..." he shook his head.

When Joseph looked at him with slight a slight nod of his head, he still seemed a bit unsure of what to say. Captain Jones laughed, "Now don't bother trying to act like you're not a part of my family, Scout. Trust me, if that little girl you write to every week didn't have your head wrapped around her little finger, Emily would have beaten you till you married her."

"I doubt that, sir. I mean, what would Melissa have said?" Joseph quipped, smiling brightly.

While Emily certainly would have made Joseph a wonderful wife, Melissa was the Captain's 14-year-old daughter. She had always turned a bright pink whenever Joseph would talk to her, or smile at her. Joseph had truly come to think of them both as his own family.

"Ah very true, the little one would be heartbroken to see the love of her life taken," the Captain mused quietly.

Then as he turned left out of the base, he looked back into the mirror and spoke again. "Marge and I wanted to be sure you got off in time. She was beside herself earlier, when she told me it was like letting one of her own kids move out. She and I both consider you one of our own."

Looking over at the Captain, Joseph sat stunned. While he had always thought he had been treated better than almost anyone else Captain Jones ever dealt with, the meals at his house almost being a regular event, he still had never heard the Captain say anything of how close they felt he was to them. He knew he looked up to them both as parents, but shock was still there.

"Anyways," Jones said, "I figured you might want some advice, about what will happen when you wake up in a week."

"How do you mean, sir?" Joseph asked still in shock but then quickly looking forward. His thoughts moved a thousand miles a minute as he tried to assemble the pieces of the last words he heard.

"Well next week you will wake up as a civilian. I have had many men re-enlist two weeks after they got out. Some adjusted; some found the lack of direction too much."

Jones looked over at Joseph to make sure he had the young man's attention. "Do you have any plans yet for a job, or any ideas?"

"No sir, though I was thinking of going back and getting a teaching degree in world history, or American history," Joseph replied after a few moments, his eyes watching the road ahead now. Seeing nothing ahead of him, he continued to watch, not sure really himself.

"Well, Scout, I want you to do me a favor and think about it for a few weeks. I know you will want to start on your life but do me that favor and think about it," Jones said but then continued, "You might do well, you might not, son. Just remember you can do anything you set your mind to. If you come back, I will see you get promoted quickly, and hopefully you will be able to attend officer candidate school. But if not, I expect a call once a month, at the least."

"Sir, I have been thinking about that as well. I mean I really have no idea what I will be doing. I kinda thought I would just fall into something when I was done, at least I thought so a couple of years ago."

Joseph paused to quickly gather the his thoughts. "But now, I honestly want to do something with my life. I don't think I want to work in a factory..."