“Someone hurry and slap him on the back,” Parker joked sarcastically, “so his face stays just like that.”
Watson simply gave a loud grunt of approval from his bunk, as he opened his own box, handing a chew toy to Paladin. The dog flopped down and began working the toy noisily with several sloppy whuffs of happiness.
Staring at the paper again, John’s words burned in his mind as he realized why he’d told him to be nice. Whoever this mysterious woman was, she was hurting in a way he understood. There was the face you showed everyone around you, and then there was the one you kept hidden away. She was trusting him, a complete stranger, with her innermost thoughts.
It was humbling – and he couldn’t just ignore the unspoken cry for help.
Making a few notes on a separate piece of paper, he quickly folded the two sheets up and stuffed them in his shirt pocket. His writing was terrible and others often joked about how he ‘should have been a doctor’. It was awful because some of the letters were backwards.
Jason was dyslexic – and had never told a soul.
“Who’s assigned to the computer tonight?” Jason asked suddenly, glancing up and looking at the men lounging nearby in the heat in all sorts of disarray. It was sweltering in the building and the air conditioning just couldn’t keep up with the extreme temperatures of the desert landscape around them.
“It’s mine,” Watson muttered quietly, glaring at him, as his voice broke the silence.
Jason heard the guys begin to cut up around him, as they knew that the two tolerated each other. Watson had a stick up his rear and Jason was just the guy to remove it. Tempers were flaring and too much had happened to their military brothers over the last year to deal with more stress. Pushing down the memories, he arched an eyebrow at the stony glare that Watson seemed to have frozen on his face.
“Can I buy your hour at the computer in exchange for a box of Whoppers?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks, Watson.”
Watson caught the flung box of candy in the air and quickly set it down into his own package that was on his lap. Watson was still sorting through it slowly, looking deep in thought.
Jason was grateful for the package of candies that he could share with his fellow soldiers, but he was more surprised and intrigued by the letter he’d received. Digging it back out of his pocket, he found himself pouring over it again. He was trying to take in every word and rechecking his thoughts to make sure he didn’t make a mistake.
Glancing at his watch, Jason quickly moved to get up from his bunk. There was an excitement to his step as he found himself actually excited to be writing back, fulfilling his promise to John.
Entering the other building, Jason took a seat at the computer before glancing around to make sure no one would be reading over his shoulders. He wanted privacy and that was a hard thing to come by. The idea of someone finding out about his secret made him antsy. He hated appearing ignorant and despised anyone watching him work, in case he misspelled something.
Dear Leia,
I know John Griffin very well but have yet to meet his wife. He’s a good man but a little headstrong and arrogant. Actually, on second thought, he was quite the know-it-all when he was here. I would work under him again in a heartbeat despite that attitude.
You are a teacher? Great profession! Watch out for the quiet kids at the back of the class as well as the pranksters – they are usually covering up for something.
Let’s just clear the air since we are both obviously quite candid and blunt (as your letter seemed to be). I never asked for anything; you sent me the package and your letter – not the other way around.
I could use a friend, too – nothing more.
I’m sorry you are a widow and I get what you are saying about having two parts to your personality. I’m not married, but I can imagine how you must be feeling; because while I’ve never dealt with losing a spouse, I, too, have a secret that I haven’t admitted to anyone, either - I’m dyslexic.
Wow. I’ve never told that anyone before, so if I write something in here that isn’t right – I’m sorry in advance. I feel like I should be truthful so you don’t think I’m some dunce or nitwit. I’m going to make mistakes- period. As a teacher, got any tips or tricks to help me out? You see, I was the prankster in my class growing up, just FYI – see above comment.
You shouldn’t feel like you are betraying your husband’s memory, because I’m pretty sure the guy would want you to move on if he loved you. No one would want their loved one to suffer forever. Yeah, he’d expect a few tears for a while, but being angry is a normal emotion to feel. Everyone has stress in their life; it’s how you handle it and having a friend to talk to, that can help you out of the worst of it.
Eye-candy, huh?
Forgive me if I laughed right there, Princess, cause women don’t usually use that term to describe themselves. Men do it all the time, but we don’t tell our women that we actually refer to them as that, ‘cause it’s rude. They are pretty, graceful, or gorgeous beyond belief… but ‘eye-candy’?
LOL!
I gotta wave a red flag with that crass comment above.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and without a photo, based off your letter, you seem like a hum-drum-poor-me-kinda-gal that needs a big whoppin’ vote of confidence. No photo, then there’s no ‘beholding’ to see if you are indeed ‘eye candy’.
Stand up tall, eat your Ben & Jerry’s (good choice by the way), and find something that inspires you to just feel something. Anger, sadness, happiness, whatever you are feeling – that is what moves you along.
When my friend, Ethan, lost his leg from a landmine explosion, we cracked a lot of jokes and cried a lot. It felt like everything had come to a screeching halt; but you know what? …Life goes on. Wilkes got court-martialed and it was a serious dose of reality. Nobody is invulnerable and it could have been anyone’s mistake.
I may have a hard time writing, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I’ve got a lot more to me and it’s easier to deal with on the phone or on email. My time is almost up on the computer. There’s a lot of red squiggles on here indicating that I made a lot of mistakes. I’m going to correct it now, print it out, and give you my email address. Email is so much easier… Shoot me a line or better yet, send your phone number, Princess, so I can just call you to talk. There won’t be any typos over the phone.
Don’t miss who you once were in the past – give yourself a chance to discover yourself now. Pretend like it’s an exciting adventure that only you get to take… and rock it!
Write when you can,
Jason
P.S. – thanks again for the candy!
Jason right-clicked on several words underlined in red, and then printed out the email, before folding it carefully to keep the papers neat. He tucked it into his shirt pocket and headed over to the small store on base. He could be a real gentleman by sending a thank you card and had seen a few on a spinning display there a week or so ago.
They might be in the middle of nowhere, but they had some supplies, just very limited. As he walked in, he saw a few colorful scarves that looked to be made locally. Picking up one, he quickly paid before heading to the post office to mail it.
“Hey man, you got any tape?” Jason asked easily, grinning as his heart hammered in his chest. He was grateful he’d thought to print her address on a sheet of paper on the computer, carefully holding the label from the box up to make sure it matched what he’d typed. He hated anything that had to do with reading or writing and the way it made him feel.
“Yep. Hody, you need me to seal up your box?”
“If you don’t mind?”
“Sure, hand it over.”
“Thanks, man,” Jason grinned easily, watching with sharp eyes to make sure his letter wasn’t opened and read. He stood there impatiently, watching until the box was sealed, weighed, and paid for. Once it was stamped and placed on the half full bin of boxes to go out on the next flight, he let out a breath of relief.
&
nbsp; His secret was in that box…and on its way to the other side of the world.
Chapter 6
Leia opened the silver compartment that was her mailbox at the apartment complex she lived in. A single, bright, orange-capped key indicating that she got a package was tucked inside.
Curious, she walked around the line of boxes to the larger receptacles that were for package deliveries. Inserting the key, she felt the lock slide easily and pulled the door open. Inside was a box that was taped, stamped, and marked all over. Every scrap of brown paper wrapping was marked wildly by the postal service. Par Avion, APO, Non-perishable, and Airmail, were all boldly marked in ink or scribbled on the packaging.
Removing the box, Leia was almost giddy with excitement. It felt extremely light and looked like it had been through a few rough spots before arriving there in Texas. Ignoring the heat, she jogged quickly back to her apartment and raced up the stairs to her door.
Once inside, she grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the tape, yanking at the cardboard to pop open the little box. Out slipped a sheet of folded up paper, as well as a diaphanous scarf that fluttered out like a waterfall.
The scarf was long and nearly touched the ground from where she held it; beautifully sheer with swirling patterns of dye that caught the eye. Handmade in Afghanistan was on the small tag that was still pinned to the material. Wrapping it loosely around her neck , she grinned as she opened the letter.
Her smile fell.
The more she read, the more confused she felt.
He praised her one moment for being a teacher… but then called her out in another? His candid letter took her by surprise, as did the tears that were dropping onto the paper.
She should be mad at the way he was blatantly calling her Princess; but his truthful response of what a man’s take on describing his wife was, and what any person would want from his loved one after their passing, was like a punch in the gut.
Life goes on?
That was his token of understanding?
The typed letters glared starkly against the white paper as she read, and reread, his letter. He wasn’t rude, but he was telling her his perception looking from the outside in. Wasn’t that what she wanted? She didn’t want a flirt, or someone to hit on her… she wanted a true friend – and true friends told you what you needed to hear no matter how much it hurt.
“Don’t miss who you once were… give yourself time to find who you are,” she repeated aloud softly. This perfectly even-spaced, typed letter hid who he was! Maybe he could use a dose of his own medicine?
Jason Hody was a man that was doing his own masquerade, trying to cover his inadequacies with learning by typing them out and having a computer correct him. She wondered idly how severe his dyslexia was, noticing his email at the bottom of the letter.
Taking a seat at the computer, Leia was going to grab this chance at a brutally candid friendship with both hands. He wanted nothing more than camaraderie – and it was something she could seriously use with a person who would tell her what she needed to hear, not just what she wanted to hear.
Jason,
Thank you for sharing with me. While I was taken aback by your letter – I am so glad you could tell me about your dyslexia. It’s kind of nice to have someone talking to me straight, instead of always sugar-coating it.
I would not have known you had dyslexia by how well your email was written. Very clever idea to use the computer to your advantage! Bravo!
I adore the scarf and the bright colors – it’s lovely and I really appreciate the kind gesture. If email is easier, you can reach me here at this email… I don’t know about giving out my phone number. That’s a little much right now for me. I hope you understand.
~Leia
Hey-a Princess,
That’s no problem. I get it and can appreciate valuing your personal space. You don’t get in mine; I won’t get in yours. Sound like a fair deal?
Maybe we should set up some ground rules or something since we know nothing about each other and writing. I’ll start – no rules other than we don’t focus on my dyslexia or refer to things as ‘stupid’. I’ve got a real sore spot for that term and not above sticking up for myself or others.
Huge pet peeve of mine, FYI.
Now, about me…
I’m a pretty laid back, good ol’ boy, who likes to enjoy life. Fishing, camping, and floatin’ on the river in a canoe is my type of fun. I’m a little far from any parks here, but when I go home, I try to toss a few lines out and sit in the shade. I like to have fun and tease a lot, but that is only because I prefer to deal with smiling people than depressed twits all around me. I’ll be the first guy to stick straws up my nose at the table to get a rise out of people… and if you are picturing me right now - I’m a sexy beast.
Six foot three.
Dark hair and eyes.
Dorky smile.
Self-proclaimed chump with a heart of gold!
Now, now – I know that we said ‘no strings’ so try not to fall for my charming personality or my rugged handsomeness. The camels here all fawn over my good looks and it gets super-annoying.
Your turn, Princess!
~Jason
P.S. The candies were perfect and truly appreciated. I shared them with the guys in the barracks and it meant a lot. I’m really glad you liked the scarf.
Jason,
What’s with all the Princess nicknames? Is that because of Star Wars? Lemme tell you-that joke nevvvvver gets old. I’ve heard it my entire life, I just didn’t realize how ‘friendly’ our emails would become so quickly. So, what is your nickname or do I get to make one up for you, too?
Let’s see… Ground Rules?
First one is that I don’t want to be pitied.
If I want to discuss the loss of my husband, I’ll reach out when I’m comfortable or pay someone to listen and pretend to care. The only other rule I have is that I want this to be fun and enjoyable – I don’t need more work on my proverbial plate.
About me…?
Teacher & wannabe gardener (but I have a brown thumb when it comes to plants) and stick in the mud. I always wanted to explore the world or do new things. I’m a major history buff that loves to read. I usually spend my downtime trying to grow flowers in the backyard, but my dog keeps digging them up. I can’t complain that much, though… we are both couch potatoes and could use the exercise as a result.
My description, if I am following your own email’s wild outline?
Average girl-in an average world.
Average height, average smile.
Normal.
Mid-length hair, brown with highlights, hazel eyes.
Queen of Fast Food. I put ranch dressing on everything.
~ Leia
Queen? Not Princess?
Your Majesty – my apologies! I got your title wrong.
Most people that claim to be a stick in the mud are actually just freaks waiting to get their groove on. I bet you like to dance or party with the best of them… don’t you? Any bad habits I should be warned about – besides the ranch dressing? My weakness is jalapeños… they belong on everything!
I like history, too – I just don’t read up on it. (cough! cough!) I prefer to explore or walk through museums so I can look at things. I like to watch a lot of historical movies, too, even if I know that they are exaggerated sometimes.
That movie Braveheart – I really liked the story of William Wallace and Longshanks. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to live during that time period… and pretty sure I would have ended up with a pike stuck somewhere the sun doesn’t shine! (actually, here in Afghanistan, it shines and sunburns everything)
What is your favorite historical period?
I’ll send you a few photos next time I head out into town.
Jason
Jason,
I’d like that a lot if you sent a few photos! Sheer curiosity- that’s it!
I bet the area is fascinating, with all the old buildings and th
e culture surrounding you. What a treat! The last trip I took was to Quebec. There were streets lined with buildings hundreds of years old that had been converted into shops. It was incredible to see how thick the walls were, the short doorways, and narrow stairs. I’ve attached a photo of the old fort and you can still see the cannons overlooking the St. Lawrence River.
My favorite time period has to be the story of Cleopatra and the Egyptian Dynasties. I find it fascinating to think of how different their lives had to have been at that time – and just think! – their world changed so much when the Roman Empire expanded their reach.
I’m so glad you liked the candy. I actually just mailed another package to you on Monday with some more goodies for all of you. I tried to include enough in the box so there was still plenty for you to hoard for yourself.
Admit it – you are a shameless hoarder, aren’t you?
(I’m teasing!)
Seriously though, do you need anything or would you prefer something specific in the next box? I don’t mind. It gives me something to do instead of sitting at the house grading papers.
~Leia
Chewing on a hangnail on the side of her index finger, Leia stared at the computer screen. Writing Jason was actually turning out to be more fun than she ever anticipated. He seemed to only write once or twice a week, which worked perfectly for her. It gave her breathing room and time to process things, making her feel like she still had space to do what she wanted and feel like she wasn’t rushing into things headfirst.
Daisy had asked if she’d heard back from her pen pal after sending the care package during the group sessions. There’d been something in the excited look in Daisy’s eyes that struck her as odd. Leia had casually mentioned that he’d replied, avoiding the fact that they were writing each other a few times now.
Lily asked her the exact same question in the hallway at school the next day. So, the second time Daisy asked, Leia shook her head no. Sure enough, the counselor’s face fell making her wonder if this was all a set up by the two women.
Remember Laughter Page 5
