Footprints

by Nicky Jayne

  Dad, otherwise known as Jake, is not one to be trifled with. Secretly, he’s the biggest softy you’ll ever meet, but his exterior is one of a hardened man. He doesn’t go too much into his past. I lived with my mom for a few years and neither I nor Eloise knew anything about him. There’s six years between my younger sister and I, so I was around for a bit before she made her grand entrance. Not once and I mean once, did I see this guy. He was the poster boy for a dead beat dad.

  Around my seventh birthday our mom passed, excessive drinking and smoking ate away at her from the inside and eventually her body couldn’t take it anymore. It gave up.

  Everything changed when she died. I’d be lying if I said it was a hard transition, because it wasn’t. My mom had been absent for so long, I was used to being alone. Used to fending for myself. So, when dad came back into my life, I braced myself for the same.

  However, he was different, so much more than I had given him credit for. Even at such a young age, I could see that he wasn’t the man I had made out in my head. Mom never bashed him, never. His name wasn’t even mentioned in my house, so there was no reason for any bad blood to be spread.

  By my tenth birthday, I’d learned the hard truth of why he wasn’t in our life. His life came crashing into ours, with such force that it rocked the foundation of our family.

  Thundering steps ran through the house, waking me from my dream. Orders flew through the house. Sitting straight up in my bed, I could hear the authority in his voice. I wondered who he was talking to. Eloise was down the hall from me, but she was too young to understand anything coming out of his mouth. Damn, I barely understood it. Sliding from my bed, cautious not to stand on the creaky floorboards, I head for the door. Cracking it open slightly, I can’t see him, but I could sure as hell hear him.

  The minute his voice went quiet, his phone would pick up another ring and the ranting would start all over again.

  Moving to the banister, I watched him as he tied his boots, straightened his shirt, and fixed his beret, wiping what seemed like a tear from his eye. I looked long and hard at him. This great man was reduced to tears.

  With a small tap at the door, I break eye contact with him. He marches towards the door grabbing his keys off the entry table. Marcie stands in the doorway, before she lays a hand on his shoulder.

  “They’re still sleeping. Thank you, Marcie.”

  As he speaks he looks up the stairs and catches me. I grin at him, he smiles back as he walks towards me, with each step he takes my little heart races.

  “Son!” he deadpans.

  I stand tall as he approaches, looking this great man in the eye. He kneels in front of me, his big strong hands holding firm on my weed-like arms. I listen while he explains that he must leave and Marcie will be taking care of Eloise and me.

  The respect that I felt growing slowly with each passing day, broke through. Right then, I knew this was who I was supposed to be. I’ll grow up and I will make this man who bears the weight of the world on his shoulders a very proud man.

  A lot of things happened that day. Not only did I have a breakthrough with him, I also learned that Marcie makes the most amazing pancakes.

  Pulling in front of my sister’s dorm, I’m surprised that it doesn’t look like world war three has gone off. Especially, after last night. The slight chill in the air catches me off guard as I walk closer to the building. I left my damn jacket at dad’s place. I used to have a spare in the back of the truck, but some idiot my sister brought back last night threw up all over it. Who knows where it is now?

  I’ve called her about thirty times in the last ten minutes and she isn’t answering. Knowing her though she is probably out cold. She never has been one to rise early and she’s definitely not a morning person. Giving the dorm entrance door a tug, it doesn’t budge. Damn thing is locked.

  There’s no one around, which is not odd, especially at 9 AM on a Saturday morning. All right, it’s time to wake up, baby sis. Taking a step away from the building, I begin to walk around to her side of the building. Just as I round the corner, I hear the thump of a door hitting the bricked wall. Dammit. I’ll never get there in time. I wonder though, if Eloise came out looking for me. I left her a ton of messages, letting her know I was coming for her. I imagine she is still in pajamas and those damn pink fluffy slippers she begs me to buy her every damn Christmas. I always give in. I’ve always spoiled her though. I’d give that girl the world if she asked for it. Rounding the corner, I see a young girl walking from the building. I stop and take a better look at her.

  She’s got to be at least five-five, no more. Her hair falls around her shoulders like a cape. I stand and watch as she takes a seat on the bench, near my truck. Her arms wrap around her body as if to keep out the cold. Why isn’t she wearing a sweater? Damn, that girl will catch her death.

  Leaning up against the wall, a voice breaks me from my stare. I don’t know why I am staring at her. From here though, I have to say that she’s a very beautiful young woman. Dating the biggest jock I’m sure.

  She looks towards the screaming banshee sound. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Annie Barker.

  Eloise and Annie have been friends for years. Well, friends is a little bit of an exaggeration, they’ve been rivals for years. I don’t know the ins and outs of it and quite frankly, I don’t care to. Regardless of my disinterest in Eloise’s friend drama, every letter was filled with a paragraph or two about something Annie did or didn't do.

  I keep watch as she talks to the girl on the bench. Huh, would you look at that. Her signature flick of the hair. Batting her eye lids just as she does. God, she tried that on me so many times. I was the older hot brother, when Eloise was a LOT younger, all of her friends wanted a piece of me. It was cute at first, but after a while everywhere I went, I got the googley eyes and the whispers running wild in every building.

  Moving to the door, I try it once more, but still no luck it’s locked. Sighing deep, tugging my phone from my pocket, I lean my body up against the rough brick wall. The small shards dig into my sensitive back.

  Distracted for only seconds, I send another text to Eloise, I can’t wait for her much longer. I’m starving.

  9:48 Where the hell R U?

  I’ll give her another couple of minutes and then I’m out. I plan to help dad out a little today. Maybe head to the back road and give the beast a spin or two. The weather report calls for rain, so I may get some mud time in today. God, I’ve missed that. The exhilaration, the nerves. There’s nothing like spinning out of control. I tried to do it once in the desert, it doesn't work all that well in a Humvee, not to mention the command chief wasn’t all that happy about it either. Thank God I’m somewhat of the golden boy or I would’ve got my ass chewed for sure.

  Smiling inwardly, a strange feeling makes me look up. I don’t know really what I’m looking for, but when I do, my eyes catch hers. Even from here, I can see them. I can see the depth of the blue that lines her eyes. As quickly as we catch eyes, she ducks her head. The cackle coming from Annie is ear piercing. Damn Annie, keep your mouth shut. Give that girl an inch she will take a damn mile. I’m sure the whole dorm will know everything about me and her in a matter of seconds. Not once did I plan on dating my sister’s friend, especially one so young. It’s one of the many reasons it only lasted three days, apart from the fact that she is bat shit crazy. I couldn’t stand to be with her, hanging on my arm like a puppy with a bone. It was over before it began.

  She isn’t looking at me anymore. A car has pulled up, an older women’s talking to them. The strange girl gets up, says her goodbyes, and gets in the car. I watch her make her way around the car. She may be short, but damn her legs are long. Her hair, falls just right on her shoulder, leading a trail down the center of her back. She is not stick thin, she has some muscle to her. I could look at her body for days. I wouldn't mind seeing her with no clothes on. I‘m sure that’d be a sight to behold, but damn, if there’s anything to that girl I’d love to fall into right
now, it’d be those eyes. I want to see the depth of the color.

  I follow the car as it pulls away. I’m totally drawn to this girl.

  Standing, drifting into my own thoughts of those eyes, I feel an unwelcome hand and the strong smell of an over-done teenager. GOD, she doesn’t change. I swear on everything, this girl bathes in her perfume. She buys the damn thing in bulk.

  “Tanner, baby,” she whispers into my ear.

  I recoil as her hand slips a little too low below the waist.

  “Annie…quit it,” I snap.

  A wicked smile crosses her face. I look at her, but my eyes flick back the road where that girl once was.

  “Is Eloise still sleeping, do you know?” Maybe changing the subject will distract her.

  I hear her talking, though I chose to ignore her. Her intentions are in her voice. Oh man, this isn’t happening. With each word she speaks, her hands move along my body. I’m still too wrapped up in those eyes that I don’t pay attention to the girl in front of me until...

  ZIP!

  “Whoa, what the FUCK, Annie?” I bark, pushing her hands away from my zipper, holding it tight trying to zip my pants back up.

  “Oh, come on Tann… I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m pretty sure I could show you a thing or two. Being stuck in that desert for so long, well ya know...you have to be dying for it right?” her eyes become wide as she begs, eyelashes fluttering up and down.

  Well, there it is. Annie has hit an all-time low. Nausea swims in my stomach working its way up my throat as I digest her words. This girl knows no bounds. I wonder secretly whether her father knows what kind of woman she has turned into.

  Grabbing her arms, lowering my head so we are eye to eye, and straightening my shoulders. I bore my eyes into hers. I have to make this damn clear.

  “Annie, don’t ever fucking touch me like that again, you’re my sister’s friend and because of that and only because of that, I’ll let you off this one time. I’m not your ‘Tann’, I never have been and I sure as hell never will be. I’m too old for you and quite frankly, you’re not my type. So back the fuck off,” I snap.

  I can feel the hurtful words sting as they leave my mouth, but I just can’t stop them. They flow like poison out of a bottle. Instantly, I feel guilty as a pool of tears build at the bottom of her eyes. Pulling her body from mine, slapping her hands to her sides, she stands and stares at me.

  SLAP…Damn, that stings.

  Her hand makes contact with my cheek. I guess I deserved it though. I’m not an evil person. I’m not the bastard that I just made myself out to be. I can’t feel guilty for it though. She needed to know and I don’t know how to tell her any other way.

  As she stares into me, I feel the heat from her eyes. I’m broken, I don’t function like everyone else. I can’t wear my heart on my sleeve. It’s a sign of weakness in my profession. I have to emotionally detach myself from everyone and everything when I’m gone. It’s not as easy as flipping a switch when I come back to the land of the living, the land of those who love me. I don’t know how.

  I lay my cold hand over the stinging pain that runs through my cheek. I don’t reach for her as she pushes past me. I just stand there like the heartless bastard that I am.

  “Annie!” I call.

  “What?” she flings back at me.

  “Who was that?” I question, pointing towards the now empty space at the front of the building.

  “That’s Riley, why?” she says, back stepping a little.

  “Oh, nothing, just curious.”

  Her hands ball into fists by her side, the anger in her face is amusing. She thought I was calling her back for something. Her pale face turns to a burning red flame.

  “FUCK OFF, TANNER!” she screams, as she stomps away from me.

  I step away from the building and a sinking feeling hits me in the gut. That girl, is she like Annie? Why that affects me so much, I don’t know. Silently I pray that she isn’t, but who knows? We all thought Annie was a sweet girl at one time, now look at her. Shaking my head, trying to remove the memory of her hand on my junk, I cringe.

  I run my hand through my hair, pulling it up slightly to check the length. Normally by now I would’ve had it cut, you know, to keep in regs and everything, but damn, I’m on leave and I may as well grow it out. Might even grow a goatee too…Eloise says I look dashing with one…I love my little sister. If only she knew how UN-dashing I am on the inside.

  The clouds have closed in and I can smell the rain as I drive through the town. Pulling into the small parking lot alongside Marcie’s place, the smell of the approaching storm is overshadowed by pancakes. My mouth begins to water when I walk towards the door. One of the biggest things I miss when I’m not at home are the simplest. Sitting in the booth, smiling and laughing, while Marcie shuttles herself around serving her ever growing string of customers. Watching her face light up as I walk in is all I need to make my day. Marcie has been a second mother to me and I miss her dearly when I’m not around.

  Not to mention the she always makes me the biggest syrup soaked pancakes ever. No one else gets the same treatment. I owe a lot to Marcie. I could never thank her enough for all the things she has done for my family and me.

  The ding of the bell latched to the door welcomes me. I take my first steps into the small cafe. Marcie has no idea I am home. The screech from the back of the small room, makes me jump. Barreling towards me at full speed arms wide open, is Marcie. Her smile makes my heart swell.

  “OHMYGOD…MY BOY IS BACK!” she screams when she gets closer.

  Marcie is a small women, the years of stress and strain have taken their toll on her. She looks much older than her years, regardless though, she is still beautiful. If I was to love only one women in my life, it would be her. She has the biggest heart, an amazing bubbly personality and a great way of thinking. Nothing brings this women down.

  She literally jumps into my arms. I grab her and hold her tight.

  “My boy, you’re back safe, I’ve missed you,” she sobs into my neck as we hug.

  With her words I squeeze her a little tighter. No homecoming would be complete without seeing her.

  The door rings once more behind me, startling her. I let her go and she lands on her feet. Her big blue eyes fill with tears as she looks back up at me. She turns to see who walked through the door. Brushing down her apron, she smiles.

  Always the professional.

  “I’ll be right with you folks,” she says, grabbing my hand.

  We walk to my favorite booth. Well, I kind of own it. I was twelve when I scratched my name into this table with the spike of a fork. It didn’t go over all that well with my dad, but Marcie shrugged it off and from that moment on it’s been my booth. Along the wall above the booths hangs the pictures of servicemen and women, no matter what rank, no matter what service. They hang there with pride. Marcie shows them off and each one has a story. Standing, looking at the pictures I smile, but my heart is heavy. I grew up with many of these faces, I served with just as many and I was there when a good chunk of them were buried.

  “When are you going to change that old thing, Mar?” I whisper, pointing to my Basic training graduation picture that hangs just to the side of my booth.

  I look at it and don’t know that boy anymore. He looked like a weed. That young boy looking back at me had no idea what he had coming. He was ignorant to what this world held for him.

  “Oh, boy, when you send me a new one,” she says.

  I wonder what it’d be like to have this one and a new one side by side. Other than being seven years older, are my scars visible? Are they noticeable to a camera lens?

  “Ha, never gonna happen, Mar,” I joke, as I slide into the booth. My fingers glide over the indentations of my scoured name on the edge of the table and my fingertips follow the still jagged edges of each letter. I smile at the memory, but as with all things in life, it came with a price. I was rebelling as they would say, after my mom passed. I wrote my name on ev
erything I could get my hands on. This however, was the first time I ever went beyond paper and books. I didn't rebel too much. The scolding I got after this kind of kicked me into shape.

  “The usual boy?” she asks, breaking my wandering thoughts.

  “Yes, please, Mar, It’s great to see you!” I say, reaching for her hand and squeezing her delicate little fingers between mine. I can see that she’s fighting back those tears. She worries about me and I love her for it. My eyes move from hers and to a picture that I don’t recognize above the counter. A plaque of some sort hangs below, but I can’t make out what’s on it.

  As Marcie moves away, I grab her hand once more, never taking my eyes of the picture. I can feel the hesitation run through her body when she realizes what I’m looking at. I don’t want to pry, but as I look closer at the picture his eyes remind me of someone. Those blue eyes, the color of an endless ocean.

  “Who’s that, Marcie?” I ask, quietly.

  The room is filled with uniforms. Even though it’s a Saturday morning, this has always been the place for the night shifters and the weekend warriors to come for breakfast. Keeping my voice hushed is necessary, because you never know who’s sitting across the table from you, or even behind you. I catch her expression and she takes a deep breath looking once more in the direction of the picture. Her hand comes down on mine so they are sandwiched together. I follow her as she slides into the booth opposite me, keeping her eyes low.

  “That’s Lt. Col. Crass, we lost him a few years back. Such a great man. His daughter is still in town, working her way through college. I’ve seen her in here with Eloise a couple of times.”

  I’m speechless. I want to ask how he died, but I know better than that. Anyway, she already answered my unspoken question without even realizing it. Well, most of it anyway. I don’t know if I want to know the answer to my next one, though.