BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

  Kevin nearly swallowed his gum. “Now that would be fun. Let’s watch ’em unload these down at the tank lot.”

  Jumping on their bikes, they headed that way. But when they were almost there, Jack yelled, “Hold up, guys.”

  Jack whipped his bike around and headed for the open door of a gigantic maintenance shed they’d just passed. He was studying a huge map before Kevin and Charlie were even off their bikes. The map showed every detail of Cooke Barracks, as well as the surrounding German countryside.

  “What do you little brats think you’re doing?”

  Startled, they turned to see a young, snooty-looking lieutenant who didn’t appear to be a big fan of kids hanging around his maintenance shed.

  Jack definitely wanted to study that map, so retreat wasn’t an option. He decided the guy might not like brats but that he could work the guy. Looking him right in the eye, he said, “Good morning, lieutenant. My name is Jack McMasters, and my father is Lt. Col. McMasters. My friends and I were just going by on our bikes when we noticed this map. We’re trying to figure out where we are on the map right now.”

  Jack saw the annoyed look disappear the moment he mentioned his father was Lt. Col. McMasters. What a weenie.

  The lieutenant poked a finger at the map. “We’re here.” Then he walked his fingers to the PX and the movie theater.

  By then Jack had also located The Glass House and The Circle up where Kevin lived. “What are these squiggly lines on the map?”

  “Those are contour lines,” the lieutenant said. “They indicate changes in elevation. The ground either goes up or down ten feet between each line. See over here? You can tell it’s flat because you don’t see any lines.” The lieutenant was pointing to the big open area in front of The Glass House. “But when you come to a hill, you get a bunch of lines much closer together.” He pointed to the hill leading down to the rifle range. “And look over here where a bunch of lines are squished right next to each other. That’s a cliff.”

  Jack said, “So, the closer the lines, the steeper the terrain?”

  The lieutenant nodded. “Correct. Okay, boys, enjoy yourselves. I have important things to do.”

  Jack was careful to thank him, and the other boys chimed in. The officer went back inside.

  At first they studied everything of interest within the base’s perimeter fence. But soon they were focused on the German countryside beyond their forest.

  Jack pointed to the far northeast sector of the base. “Remember how my dad said this is the most probable location of an enemy attack? Well, it just so happens that if we could somehow figure out how to get over the barbed-wire fence at that exact spot, we might be able to get Jayla to the mountain.”

  Kevin started snapping his gum in frustration. “We’ve been over this before. There’s no way to get to that mountain and back again in a single day.”

  Jack said, “If we didn’t have to go out the main gate and all the way around the post, it would save a great deal of time.”

  Charlie’s gaze tracked Jack’s finger as it swept from the northeast end of base, all the way over to the Hohenstaufen. His eyes went wide. “That’s a little nutty, even by our standards. How would we even get to that northeast sector, much less over the perimeter fence?”

  “No clue,” Jack said. “Those must be Mrs. Campbell’s ‘serious barriers and obstacles.’ So that makes it our job to get over them, around them, or through them.” Jack stared at Charlie and Kevin each in turn. “Doesn’t it?”

  Kevin was chewing slower by now. “Maybe.”

  Jack could feel him coming round. “Jayla is hell-bent on proving we’re tougher than those Russian kids.”

  Kevin’s eyes never left the map. “We’re tougher. Probably smarter.”

  Jack and Kevin looked at Charlie. He shrugged. “Okay. If you two are going for it, I’m in.”

  Jack tapped the top of the Hohenstaufen. “We’ll call it Mission Mountaintop.”

  The other boys cracked up at yet another Jack-ism, but he didn’t even notice. His eyes never left the map.

  26

  Wet Shoes

  “Saddle up, boys. We have a mission,” Jack announced as he entered Charlie’s bedroom on Saturday morning.

  Kevin was already there, thumbing through one of Charlie’s comics. “So it’s the Hohenstaufen and Mission Mountaintop, is it?”

  Jack smiled. “Ah! Now wouldn’t it be nice to get on with that. Unfortunately that doesn’t have a prayer till we complete Operation Ravine Crossing.”

  Charlie caught Kevin’s eye. “If he’s given it one of his wild-ass names, there’s no backing out.”

  “But why do we need to deal with avoiding the Sevens right now?” asked Kevin. “Forget the ravine. It’s not our mission.”

  Charlie moved closer to Kevin, as if siding with him. “Yeah, let’s blow this pop stand and conquer the mountain.”

  But Jack just shook his head. “Didn’t you see those tight contour lines on the map yesterday? They run across our entire woods. We either figure out how to cross the ravine or we never get to the Hohenstaufen.”

  A mile or so into the woods, they reached the deep ravine where the Sevens had trapped them. Scrambling down the steep slope of loose dirt, they were surprised to see a wide creek running through the ravine. The current was fast, and the water looked much too deep to wade across, at least without getting seriously wet.

  Kevin was looking up and down the creek. “It’s too deep to cross here, but maybe it gets shallower.”

  They picked a direction and hiked for more than an hour without finding a better spot to cross.

  “Jack’s right. It goes on forever,” complained Charlie.

  Kevin pointed to a spot where rocks rose above the surface in a straight line. “Could we jump from rock to rock? They’re not that far apart.”

  Charlie stepped back. “You show us how it’s done.”

  The first few rocks were close enough that Kevin simply stepped from rock to rock before reaching a long rock in the center. But after that the rocks were not so close or tall. Even so, Kevin managed to reach the other bank without slipping. Coming back he knew what to expect. He managed the widely spaced rocks with a series of running steps, then jumped onto the center rock with arms outstretched in victory. But it was slick from the splashing creek, and Kevin’s feet started sliding. He whirled his arms round and round in a vain attempt to maintain his balance, but his windmill motions didn’t keep him from going in. No Saturday-morning movie was funnier, and Jack and Charlie were pounding the ground, laughing.

  Somehow Kevin managed to stand as he hit the water, so he was only soaked from the knees down. He waded back to Jack and Charlie, laughing. “Something tells me we need to find a different way across the creek.”

  Kevin walked into his house and started across the living room, heading for the laundry area off the kitchen. I gotta get these things washed before anyone finds out.

  He’d almost made it to the laundry when the Buddha stirred from her trance. “Kevin, honey, I believe you might have left wet footprints on the carpet.”

  “Nothing to worry about, Mom. I’ll take care of it.” He tried to sound reassuring.

  “Is there something on your shoes?” Her gravelly voice was rising in volume.

  Kevin’s radar switched on. He knew that escalating tone. Gotta get this stuff off! Should never have worn my shoes into the house! He took his shoes and socks off and tried to wipe his shoes with his soggy socks. He stuffed his socks into the pocket of his pants.

  “Come over here. Let me see those shoes,” she commanded. “Is that mud I see?”

  He knew she was going off the wall again. Why? Why now? God, please let my mother just slip back into herself.

  “Kevin Duncan, you’ve gotten mud all over my living room!” she screamed. “Give me those shoes immediately.�
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  He handed her the shoes, sensing the moment that she felt how wet they were.

  She pushed them in his face, shouting, “You’ve ruined these shoes and tracked mud all over this house. In fact, you’ve destroyed these shoes!”

  I’m sorry, God. Please help her. Calm her down.

  He watched helplessly as she wrestled with her demons. He could almost hear the struggle in her mind: If I just stay in my chair I won’t cause anything bad to happen. I have got to stay in my chair!

  Then, with more energy than Kevin thought possible, his mom pushed out of her chair and charged into the kitchen, screaming, “Why have you done this to me?”

  By the time he reached her, she had water filling the sink. Wrestling the cap off the dish soap, she poured in almost half the bottle. Then she started dunking his shoes in the slippery water and grabbed a metal Brillo pad to scrape their soft leather sides. She ripped the shoes with amazing force, all but peeling them apart.

  She growled, “You think we have money to spend on new shoes? No! We! Do! Not!”

  Kevin was desperate. “Mom, I’ll take care of it. Just go back and sit down.”

  “Sit down? No! No! No! I’m forced to deal with your mess.”

  Kevin watched as she lifted the shredded shoes out of the sink. He’d seen that look on her face before. He knew the split second when she realized she had made everything much worse.

  The next second it would be his fault again. There would be no stopping her.

  She plunged the shoes back into the sink, muddy water splashing up onto the clean dishes in the drying rack. She picked up the entire drying rack, tipping the dishes on top of the shoes in the sink. Some broke. With her hands dripping slimy water, she stormed over to the dirty-clothes hamper. She began dropping clothes onto the wet floor.

  What’s she doing? But then he knew.

  He pleaded desperately, “Mom, please. Just let me help.”

  From deep in the hamper, she yanked out a bottle of bourbon. Hands shaking, she half-filled a water glass.

  “No, Mom. Please don’t start drinking.”

  “You!” she said, an ugly snarl on her face. “You made me this way.”

  In three quick swallows, she drained the glass.

  Karen came running downstairs. She entered the kitchen just as Mrs. Duncan was pouring another glass.

  “Oh, Mom, please don’t drink,” she pleaded.

  Mrs. Duncan turned unsteadily, sloshing half her drink on Karen. “Look what you made me do! Get out of here!”

  Karen looked down at the yellow-orange stain on her blouse.

  Kevin handed her a towel. “Karen, fix it later. Please go back upstairs.” Kevin kept his voice quiet, emotionless. “I caused it. Just go back up before Dad gets home. This time it’ll just be on me.”

  The next day, Kevin showed up with a red, swollen nose. Jack’s eyes grew wide for just a moment. “Let me guess. Your dad thought you made bad choices yesterday when you got your clothes wet.”

  “Let’s just say my mom was kinda ticked off about it. And when she gets upset, the colonel gets upset. And when you’re the son who caused this tragedy, the colonel concludes you’re an ass-wipe. But you know that drill.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  But not the whole drill, thought Kevin. And you’re lucky you don’t. With you, when it’s over, it’s over. With me, it will never be over.

  He forced a smile. “Besides, the important question is, How are we gonna get across that ravine? If we don’t, the Sevens could trap us again. And even more important, we won’t find our shortcut to the mountain.”

  “Right you are!”

  Kevin was glad Jack had let him change the subject. Long ago, Kevin had promised himself he’d never tell anyone about his mom’s drinking. It was just something he couldn’t reveal. So once again he resisted his need to talk about it—even to Jack.

  27

  Black Squirrel Jack

  Kevin’s dip in the creek didn’t keep the kids from continuing the search for a crossing that day, and many days after that. Having to watch out for the Sevens made their progress slow, but they only stopped when they hit the perimeter fence running around the base.

  Jack plopped down on the ground a few feet away, staring at the end of their world. “Even if we could get some metal snips, we aren’t going to cut it. That would compromise the safety of the base.”

  “Roger that,” said Charlie. “The only other way is up and over, but that barbed-wire overhang makes scaling it impossible.”

  Kevin smirked. “The engineers who designed this fence must have been brats once upon a time.”

  Jack walked over to the fence, yearning to walk through it. Grabbing on, he shook it a few times, and then he leaned his back against the fence and pretended to bounce off. “We go back the way we came and recon in the other direction.”

  Two days later, they found a stretch where the ravine wasn’t very steep, so the creek was wide and shallow, exposing dozens of stepping stones.

  “Hey, Kev,” said Charlie, “here’s a place even I could cross without any of your famous ballet moves.”

  The boys raced each other back and forth from side to side, until Charlie happened to look at his watch. “Crap. It’s already five o’clock.”

  Jack groaned. “An hour to get home! We’ll have to double-time it the whole way.”

  Kevin was scrambling to put on his shoes and socks. “It’s great here, but too far away to be an escape route or to explore beyond the ravine. We need something closer.”

  Jack said, “You’re right. The run home is gonna kill us.”

  From then on, they hung out near the place the Sevens had smashed them. But now they designated a lookout at all times.

  One afternoon, Charlie was on sentry duty when he spotted some Sevens heading their way. He gave their “take cover” whistle.

  He and Kevin disappeared up trees. But Jack couldn’t. He was near plenty of trees, but none with branches low enough to reach. He darted one way, then the other, frantic that he was running out of time. He could even hear the Sevens joking with each other.

  His brain drowned out the Sevens. Which way? Which way? Find something or you’re gonna get caught. There’s one, just below the ledge of the ravine. Why didn’t I notice it before? Go! Go! Go!

  The tree was partly uprooted, as if a hurricane had screamed through and yanked it half out of the ground. But somehow the tree had managed to keep growing out over the ravine at a steep angle. Adrenalin and fear pumped through Jack’s body as he ran onto the trunk and got onto all fours, scrambling like a monkey. The farther he climbed, the deeper the ravine dropped off, and the higher he was over the creek. But Jack knew better than to slow down till he reached a spot where the leaves covered him. Once there, he froze.

  His brain was quiet now, and so were the Sevens. Had they moved on? Without a visual, he couldn’t chance moving a muscle.

  An all-clear whistle eventually came from somewhere down below. Only then did the tension leave his body. Jack began to tremble. Another close call.

  “Jack, where are you?” came a shout from the ground.

  “Up here,” he yelled, pushing limbs away to see where the others were. He was surprised to find that right next to him was another tree growing from the opposite side of the ravine. He climbed up to where the two trees crossed. Jack needed a better look. It was hard to size things up because some of the limbs from each tree actually intertwined. He pulled out his KA-BAR knife and hacked off some thin branches blocking his view.

  Charlie stood on the rim of the ravine, watching small limbs fall into the creek and float away. “What are you trying to do? Cut that stupid tree down while you’re in it?”

  Jack ignored him. He could see no limbs that were sturdy enough to get across on, so he eyeballed the gap between the tree trunks, a
nd it didn’t seem that bad. The two trunks were about five feet apart. If he could get onto the other tree, he could climb down to the far side of the ravine. He would jump five feet without thinking twice—if he were just a couple of feet off the ground. But at four stories above the creek bed, he hesitated a whole second. He said, “Charlie, look at this.”

  Charlie shouted, “Don’t you dare! You’ll kill yourself!”

  Jack waved, as if not hearing him. He pressed a foot against a branch so he could get a decent push off. Crouching, he uncoiled and leapt into open air. Fortunately for him, he came crashing down onto the trunk of the connecting tree. His legs instinctively wrapped the trunk, while his hands grabbed the closest limbs to keep from rolling upside down. As his heart slowed down, he thought, Amazing! I didn’t even get scraped up.

  Jack wasn’t as fast as the little black squirrels and he couldn’t exactly fly through the air the way they did, but he had managed to cross from treetop to treetop the way they do. Descending that tree, he made it to the other side of the ravine. And he’d done it all with dry feet.

  He made the treetop crossing three more times before coaxing Charlie and Kevin to try it. They managed the climb to the crossover point, but once they saw the four-story drop to the rocky creek bed, Charlie and Kevin scrambled back down the tree even faster than they’d come up. Jack followed them, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment.

  Kevin spoke first. “Not a chance I’d ever attempt that jump. It must be forty feet down.”

  Jack grinned. “You wouldn’t be jumping down. You’d be jumping across.”

  Kevin opened his mouth, as if to argue further, but scowled instead. “You’re completely insane, Black Squirrel Jack!”

  “I’ll say,” said Charlie. “You’re Black Squirrel Jack with a nut-sized brain. A brain too small to take in the laws of gravity.”