Footprints

by Nicky Jayne

  Sliding the truck to a stop. I smile. My body is on a natural high, having literally blown away the cobwebs from this morning. My body shivers slightly when I catch sight of the dog tags that swing from the rear view. Reaching for them, I squeeze the thin metal between my fingers.

  Closing my eyes. “I love you, daddy.” No more needs to be said, I’m here, in a place we once loved to share and he’s with me, in my hand and in my heart.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I take off, not minding where I’m going.

  CRASH.

  Dammit!

  A small pain, dances across my brow. Disorientated a little, I look up and out of the window. What looks like a black truck sits nose to nose with my dirt covered silver one. Hanging my head, my uncles stern voice and overly pissed off face comes into view along with my mom’s. Oh my God, my mom. She’s going to freak out. I can see it now, my room will be packed in minutes, my driver’s license will be confiscated and I’ll be stuck with her taking me too and from class. GAH!

  The sound of the rain still beating down on the truck, breaks me from my internal struggle. My head throbs slightly, but nothing too bad. My arm begins to ache, that’s when I notice it’s caught in the small chain of the dog tags. How I didn’t notice this before, is beyond me.

  Wiggling my arm around, tugging at the chain ever so slightly. It won’t budge. The chain has wrapped itself around my wrist. I can feel the small silver balls digging into my cold skin.

  I don’t want to break the chain, but my hands are shaking so much that it’s making it hard to release the small beaded chain. With each second that passes, I become more and more nervous. The thought of Crass freaking out is nothing compared to what I’m about to do.

  “Dammit,” I scream, closing my eyes tight. I pull my wrist, the snap of the chain echoes through the cab. I suck in a breath as I scramble to collect the pieces off the floor. Breathing long and hard, trying to calm my dancing heart, I clutch the small pieces of metal close to my chest.

  “Nice one, Riley,” I scold myself. Sliding over to the door, I grab the handle. Just as I pull the hinge a small tap on the window makes me jump. My hand flies to my chest and I try to control my breathing. In a matter of seconds, the window has fogged up enough that I can’t see through the window. Grabbing for the nearest thing to wipe down the window, I pull up an oil stained rag. Great… That will do a great deal of NOTHING.

  The dew drips slowly down the window as I swipe the cloth from side to side.

  Aw, shit!

  Standing right outside the door, resembling the look of a drowned rat stands the one person, I’d love to not see right now. Tanner.

  I can only imagine what he thinks, actually if I’m being honest, I don't really care. What I do care about though, is how long it took him to pick up that phone of his and call his dad. Who I might remind you all, is in the same place as my uncle and my mom. Oh lord, this’s going to be a hard one to explain. Lock me up now, and throw away the key.

  The door opens with a bump. He must of got sick of waiting for me and opened it himself. Pushing out a deep sigh. I turn a face him.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Um, yeah…You?”

  Even under that drowned-rat looking exterior, he’s still hot. The sky’s dark, the trees that are somewhat sheltering us, block out any light that could escape. Even with all that, his dark brown eyes shine like melted chocolate. His hair has turned dark with the rain. As I look him over, he’s wearing as much clothing as I am, which isn’t a whole heck of a lot. T-shirt and jeans. Taking stock of the young man before me, I feel very flustered. A small giggle escapes my mouth, quickly I slam my hand to my mouth out of fear, that it may get louder and I have no idea how he’d take to me laughing at him.

  I can’t help but look up at him, as I stifle my smile. I see amusement in those eyes, they are laughing at me as much as I am at him.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks, when I slide from the truck.

  A crack and a crumble makes me jump before I’m able to answer his question. We are stopped under a tree in the middle of a rain storm. What are we, freaking nuts?

  “Umm, we have to go,” my eyes shoot to the sky as a flash of light brightens the gloomy clouds.

  I catch his eyes following mine and we both look up to the sky. Another flash breaks just as he lays his hand on my shoulder. I don't know if it’s the lightning or his touch that made me jump. Right now though, I’d rather not find out.

  “Try and turn her over,” he yells and signals inside the cab of the truck. I didn’t notice that it wasn’t on. Did I shut it off? I bend over trying to reach the key, but I am just shy of reaching it. Taking a step in, laying my body across the seat. I see him dash back to his truck.

  TICK-TICK-TICK.

  “DAMN!” I yell. Fixing my position, in the seat, putting one foot on the gas the other on the brake. I can feel his eyes on me with each turn of the key, Please start, please start, I say over and over again.

  Just when I turn the key again, and the engine finally catches, he appears by my side. A baseball cap now shields his head from the persistent down pour.

  “Where to?” he asks.

  Man, that voice. The rain beats around me as I find my eyes, following the sound. His body is wet, every inch of his clothing is stuck, glued even to his skin leaving nothing to the imagination. His arms are built, man to be held by those things. Casing his body, like a burglar cases a joint, I go in search of the prize. Just as my eyes wander to the unknown, I snap out of my dream and find his hand resting firmly on my shoulder. His eyes, once covered by the mask of the cap, look right into me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Umm. Yeah, I’m fine,” I stutter.

  It’s all I can get out. The smile spreading across his face says a thousand words. He definitely caught me looking. Dammit. Who wouldn’t though. Come on, he is a gorgeous, drop dead if I do say so myself. Any girl would be lucky to have him.

  “Not you, Riley,” I snap at myself.

  “What?” he snaps back.

  Insert foot into mouth.

  I’ve had a few close encounters with the male species before, but for some odd reason, I seem to be drawn to this one. It’s kind of worry-some. Never before now, have I ever looked at a man twice, never given them anymore than the time of day. That’s not to say they would’ve gotten any further anyway, especially with Crass being around. I have stuck firm to my unspoken rule for years, and I plan on continuing to stick to it. This boy however, may prove to be a challenge. Tanner just may test my resolve, but I have to think about what is best for me. And not having the same life my mother is leading will win out. It has to. If not for my own safety, then for the safety of my heart.

  It’s time to get away from him and I need to do it fast. If I keep staring at his damn chest, it may not ever happen. As I sit and stare at him, fighting my internal battle, his expression changes, it’s not one of worry, more of confusion. I wonder what he thinks of me. I haven’t made the greatest of impressions. Staring, ogling, snapping and now ramming my truck into his. It all screams ditsy teenager rather than sensible women.

  A crack of a branch just above us makes him step back. In a split second motion, I slam the truck door shut. I smile on the inside as step one of the not so concrete plan falls into place.

  Winding down the window, he takes a small step toward the truck, his head hanging low. A crash of lighting above makes me jump, my reaction makes him look up at me. In that moment, I look at him and I mean really look at him. His face is torn, his eyes carry the weight of a thousand men. His body is one sculptured by another man. He bleeds like the rest of us, but his lifestyle, his career, his choice, weighs heavily on him.

  “Meet me at Drove Park,” my voice almost wavers.

  I had to say something, the emotion coursing through my veins right now threatens to break through my now thin barrier. I need to move on and not think too much on this. Let’s exchange paperwork, and say goodbye. I’ll go h
ome, deal with my uncle, possibly be locked away in the ivory tower, until graduation. Anything is better than the alternative. Well, right now it is, anyway.

  He doesn’t speak as he walks back to his truck. Letting out a deep breath, I slide the truck into reverse, moving back slowly. The rain has grown heavy and my visibility is near to none. It doesn’t help that my rear window is plastered in dirt. All that stress and strain I wore off came crashing back to me, quite literally.

  His truck has yet to move, sitting and watching him struggle in the cab. I say a little prayer, the last thing I need to do right now, is get back out there with him. I need a little breather. Drove Park is by no means the closet park. I could’ve chosen about ten others, but there are two main reasons I didn’t. One, if my uncle drives by, he may flip when he sees the damage to his truck. I don’t even know the extent yet, so here’s hoping that he doesn’t drive past while I head out of town. Number two, I need some time to think about what I’m going to say to him. I don’t want to come off cold and callus, but I don’t want him to get any ideas either.

  What the hell, Riley. This scolding thing is getting old. I’m acting like he has just asked me out or something, when he hasn’t even looked at me that way. Well, not that I’ve noticed anyway.

  The groan and grumble of his truck as he flips a u turn in front of me, pulls me back from my strange thoughts. Following his tail lights out onto a side road, I know this has to end here. Maybe being locked up in the ivory tower would be a good thing.

  He speeds though a puddle, splashing water over the rear of his truck. Didn't do much, but it’s better than it was. My eyes lock on the decal stuck to his rear bumper. My heart sinks and I flush, feeling nervous. Each letter, so perfectly defined the meaning, making it so very clear. The words SPECIAL OPS lay against the silver metal attached to his truck.

  I know what special ops means. I’m not ignorant to it. Each beat of my heart pounds through my body like a base drum. Tears well in my eyes as his face comes to me. I’ve seen that sticker before.

  Blinking rapidly, trying to shift the memory from my eyes, hoping, and praying even that it’s my imagination, but with every splash, it becomes clearer. The words, the detail, the color…his face, the flag. The tears, the heart break. Just like a breaking wave comes crashing down on to the sand below, the last seven years of my life comes crashing into me. Every emotion, every feeling engulfs my body, making me weak.

  Gasping for breath, wiping away the flood of tears. I hit the brake, turn the wheel hard to the right. The truck skids on the wet road. Quickly righting myself and the truck, I slam my foot on the gas and head in the other direction.

  “I see daddy, I see,” I choke though my tears.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tanner

  My orders lay staring up at me. The black and white ink blurs slightly, as my eyes over focus. Blinking to clear my sore eyes, swiping the paper from the desk.

  I’ve been enlisted for 5 years now and up until 3 years ago, it was everything I thought it’d be. My job is challenging, both physically and emotionally, but it’s never been more than I could handle. My first deployment was no walk in the park, but after a training injury I was grounded, leaving me base bound to help with guidance and re-con. The first few times the squad would come back and we’d debrief, I was envious in a way. So much action, and I was stuck at a desk.

  Who put that rock there anyway?

  Month six was a definite eye opener for me, I lost three of my buddies that month. Being on the ground, facing the battle head on with very little back up, if any or at all, is a lot to ask from someone. We knew what we were getting ourselves into, so we finished the tour without complaint.

  As the threat grew, so did our missions. The amount of time between being home and leaving grew shorter and shorter, until we were lucky if we ever got home at all.

  Gripping the paper in my hand, I feel a small stabbing pain in my left shoulder. Battle scars are part of the charm, I’ve been told. There’s nothing charming about your body being torn up by bullets shooting at you at 100 miles a second. There’s nothing charming about watching the person you’re huddled up next to in a make shift tent to keep warm, being blown sky high. No, my friend, that’s not charm. That is horror-that is war. Each and every moment of it has been etched into my memory. Watching those, who I loved as brothers, being taken away because of someone else's political ignorance.

  Filing my new orders in my desk, I grab the one thing I have been looking forward to for months. I’m going home. I can feel the smile as it grows on my face, a big cheese eating grin. My sister has been bugging me for months to come home to see her and my dad, but work has kept me away. I feel sorry for them, they rarely know where I am or when I’ll be home. The worst pill to swallow for them though, is they’ll never know the full extent of what I do. Yes, there are things that I can’t divulge to them, I respect the word classified, but in a whole, I’d never put them through that, they can never know how bad it is over there. The news and TV channels don’t do it any justice whatsoever. It’s literally hell on earth and in only twelve short days, that hell will become my reality once more.

  Saying my goodbyes to the few guys that are left hanging around the main building, I jump in the cab that waits for me.

  I can’t wait to get back in my truck!

  Anyone who complains about flying second class should be punched. That right there was luxury, well, considering that I’m used to sleeping on the top of a damn tank lined in the middle of a freaking C5, I was in heaven. That being said, the flight from San Diego was long and I’m starving. Hunting for a cab outside the airport, I smile as I imagine my sister’s face. Neither her or my dad have any idea that I’m on my way home.

  I want this to be a normal few days. I want to hang with my baby sister, laugh and joke with her. I want to act like a fool on the back roads in my truck. I want to get my hands dirty behind the bar. For the next seven days, there’s no war, there is no deployment. There’s just me spending time with the people who mean the most to me. My family!

  Sitting in the back of the cab, I take in all the sights. God, I miss home. Thinking of how things have changed since I’ve been gone, makes me a little nervous. I have to tell them this trip that this will be my last enlistment. I can’t do anymore. My body is shot. I’ve seen enough death to last me five lifetimes. I’ve witnessed enough pain to span the globe fifty times over. I just can’t continue. My biggest worry though, is how they’ll see me, have I changed so much? I’m still the same man in the mirror every morning, but with each wound, with each scar, with each flag that I lay on a friend, I’m losing who I once was. I don’t know how much more my soul can take. I’m broken, but I can still be fixed. If I carry on though, I don’t know if I’ll come out on the other side.

  The same questions plague me, and I’ve been putting off telling them for some time now. They’re so proud of me, but will they think badly of me? Will they doubt me?

  Sucking in all the air left in the back of this stifling cab, I pray silently that this will go smooth.

  Three Days Later

  I love Florida. Yeah, okay, it’s muggy, hot and infested with bugs. Oh man, those bugs. I swear I’ve been home five minutes and I’ve already washed my truck three times. The view of the beaches are amazing. I was hoping to get some surfing in, but the weather has turned kind of funky.

  Oh well, off to get the sister out of bed, she owes me breakfast! Especially after her little show last night.

  Man, I can’t ever remember having parties like that in college…Oh, not that I didn't. I was just too interested in keeping my nose clean and in my books. Okay, well that’s not the complete truth. I had the occasional night out, generally they resulted in me asleep in some friend’s room, usually resulting with something crude drawn all over my face. I’m not a drinker, I don’t take alcohol well, or should I say that alcohol and I don’t mix. Needless to say, I was the party piece when I did go out. Eventually though, I just gav
e up. I had one thing on my mind, and that was joining the Air Force. To do what I originally planned on doing took top grades, and being in tip-top physical shape. The sports helped with the grades, and they helped with the ladies, too. Not like I had much time for that.

  My sister, Eloise, can drink though. She must of inherited dad’s three stomachs. How she can hold all that shit down, I don’t know. I do hope she has a killer headache this morning, because I plan on being the evil big brother and hauling her ass out of bed. Sober or not, I want some of Marcie's pancakes!

  If I was to choose the top three things I missed about being at home, I’d have to say my family, my truck and Marcie’s pancakes. Oh, my God. They’re freaking amazing. These things literally melt in your mouth. Anyone who hasn’t tried them would instantly say that they were too sweet because they have syrup in them. They’d be wrong, so very wrong. Just the thought of one makes my mouth water, forcing me to lap up the slobber that drips down my face like a St. Bernard.

  The roads are clear, so I put my foot on the gas a little more than I should. The horses under the hood are ready to go. Dad took really good care of my truck, she growls like a lion, perfect. Score one for dad!

  Just as I take the bend, a black and white nose comes into view, tapping the break slightly to reduce my speed, I can feel my blood pressure rise slightly. The last thing I need to do right now is get in trouble, that’ll go down real well.

  The surprise went off great, but from the look in my dad’s eyes, he knew something was up. Apparently, it’s written all over my face. I blew him off, blamed it on jet lag. It’s still nagging at me. So Tanner, let’s not get in trouble and then break the ‘oh by the way dad, I can’t do it anymore speech’.

  I’m 26 years old, but I still fear the wrath of my dad. Like any good son, the thought of ever seeing that look of disappointment come across his face makes me nervous. I’ve tried my best to make him proud and I’ve done well. I just hope that deep down he accepts my reasons for leaving the military and doesn’t hold it against me.