First Days After

by Jay Vielle

  “Well, you all take care. I hope your friend finds his son. VMI let their students head home, but there was a bunch of them that were staying on. I reckon your buddy’s son is one of them I’ve been seeing when I ride by.”

  I thanked him, wished him well, and started to get back on the bus. I got an odd feeling of normalcy here. I thought about the contrast of what life was like back in Maryland, and even some of the cities we saw on our way here, like Berkley Springs, West Virginia and Winchester, Virginia. Those places had not fared as well, and the streets and highways were deserted. This place seemed to be running like usual, almost oblivious to the national tragedy. It left me feeling a little unnerved. I grew up in an era where information was instant, easy to get, easy to transmit. There was so much not knowing now. Jake and the Colonel were older than the rest of us. They seemed to treat it as a nuisance, but one with which they were familiar. Everyone else on the bus just seemed a little lost.

  “Okay folks, we ready?” said Jake. “VMI is just around the corner.”

  Jake put the bus in gear and pulled out onto the main drag and headed towards the center of town. We veered right off Route 11 onto Main Street, and almost instantly VMI rose up around us on either side. Large, stark grey-beige buildings with red and yellow signage surrounded the street. Barracks, athletic buildings, a football field, and the parade grounds were all visible from the main street. We rode under a footbridge that carried VMI’s Keydets across it from the main part of campus on the right to the football fields and indoor gymnasiums on the left. We turned right and went up the hill toward the parade grounds. There were about a hundred college-aged students milling around, playing frisbee, lying on the grass. My first thought was it didn’t look right. The campus looked like one great big fort, almost like a slightly newer Alamo that spread for several blocks. It did not look like a place for people to come for recreation. The kids on the field were all wearing VMI issued t-shirts, shorts, and sweatpants. The weather was nice. Jake looked at the scene and chuckled.

  “They’re not used to this,” he said. “Huh Colonel?”

  “I’d say not. I’d say they’re making the most of a very rare time when there are little to no restrictions,” he said.

  “There’s Tommy,” said Jake, and he braked sharply and popped out the door. Straight ahead, throwing a frisbee, was Jake’s younger double. The kid looked just like his father, only much younger and taller. Dirty blonde hair, round face, squinty eyes, broad chest and shoulders and scrawny legs, Tommy Fisher even moved like his old man. When Jake got closer, though, it was obvious just how much taller Tommy was than his dad. Jake embraced him, hugging him hard, almost like a tackle. His head barely made it to Tommy’s chest, which made him about 6’3” to Jake’s 5’9” frame. He smiled, patted his father on the back, and the two exchanged a few sentences. Tommy then nodded, and ran towards the dorms, or barracks as they were called here, I supposed. Jake turned and limped his way back to the bus. His eyes were red.

  “He’s going to get a bag of stuff. He’ll be right down. He’s on the second floor,” said Jake.

  “There’s not one female anywhere,” said Maureen. “Is this place all male? I didn’t think there were any more all male schools left.

  “Not anymore,” said the Colonel. “It was all male for over a hundred and fifty years, then they started taking women in the 1990’s. There still aren’t very many here. It’s a rough life, especially for a plebe,” he said.

  “Rat,” corrected Jake. “They call them Rats here. The Rat line is one of the roughest places you’ll ever encounter, Colonel. It even rivals plebe summer at West Point.” The Colonel looked dubious at that remark.

  The big VMI Keydet hopped onto the bus and it shook noticeably when he entered. He cut an imposing figure, his head nearly grazing the roof. He looked around at the folks on the bus and smiled with recognition at a few faces.

  “Miss Kelly, Mr. DeFillipo,” he said, greeting former teachers. “Señor Reyes, cómo está usted?”

  I shook his hand and nodded.

  “What’s up, Glen?” Glen smiled back and waved. He looked at Wendy and the Colonel and stiffened.

  “Nice to meet you ma’am, sir. I’m Thomas Fisher.” He extended his hand to Wendy first, then the Colonel, and shook them each formally.

  “In the army I see, Colonel. Hoo-ah.”

  “Hoo-ah, Keydet. You going in the army when you’re done here, son?”

  “Marines, sir. Like my dad. VMI has all four ROTC possibilities if you choose to go that Route. I’m on full ROTC scholarship here and will be commissioned a lieutenant in the Corps after I graduate.”

  “In that case, it’s ooh-rah, son. Don’t want to mess up a family tradition,” the Colonel said.

  “Ooh-rah, yes indeed sir. Thanks,” he said. “Dad, where’s Mom?”

  The bus went silent immediately, and everyone from Hunter’s Run High School lowered their eyes and didn’t speak. Estela, Wendy, and the Colonel noticed immediately, and Tommy Fisher flushed.

  “Dad,” he said slowly, drawing it out, and turning to face his father. “Where’s Mom?”

  Jake swallowed hard. His breathed in shallowly, then looked his son in the eyes.

  “I don’t know, boy.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” said Tommy, raising his voice.

  “We were on the phone when the bombs were hitting. Then the phone just went dead.”

  With the word ‘dead,’ I winced. So did Maureen.

  “I tried to call her. There’s no answer. She was in Washington.”

  “And you didn’t go after her?” said Tommy.

  “Son, she was in Washington,” said Jake.

  “I don’t give a fuck if she was in Moscow. You didn’t even try?”

  “Tommy don’t talk to me like that. You don’t know, you don’t know what it’s like there.”

  “I know that a Marine never leaves a fallen comrade behind. But she wasn’t your comrade, was she? Do you even care? Are you even worried?” Jake blanched at that. Tears were forming, and his face began to redden with anger. He got in Tommy’s face and looked up.

  “Now you listen, boy.”

  “Thomas,” said the Colonel, “Washington was a hot zone, son. A hot zone. We have no way of knowing what happened there. EMP’s dropped everywhere. There’s no power in the entire surrounding area, as far north as Frederick. Communication is down, and no one knows anything. Your dad’s first thought was getting to you, because you were in a place that wasn’t affected. Your dad’s a hero, son. He…”

  “I know what my dad is sir. We hear about it all the time. What he did in Iraq. How great a wrestler he was. That’s not the issue here. All due respect, I’m afraid you don’t understand our family’s…dynamic.”

  “No, son. I’m not talking about any of that. He’s a hero today. He rescued me and my colleague there from dire circumstances at Fort Detrick. We’re alive because of him. You need to cut him a break son. These are strange times right now,” said the Colonel.

  “Fine sir,” said Tommy, and he went to the back of the bus and sat next to Glen and Jada.

  I looked at Jake. He was crushed. Whatever had gone on between him and his wife, Laura, had spilled over into his relationship with Tommy, and it had affected them enough that it was the first thing that rose to the top of conversation.

  “Thank you, Colonel,” said Jake quietly. “I appreciate what you said.”

  “You okay Jake?” I asked.

  “No,” said Jake. “Not really.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to Jake. I remembered when his boys were in school with him several years ago, but I was new to the staff and hadn’t really gotten that close to Jake yet. I was actually closer in age to them than I was to their father, even though both referred to me as ‘Mr. Reyes.’ I hadn’t really gotten to know either of them past cursory greetings. They knew that their father frequently lunched with me.

  I wondered sometimes if it bothered them that Jake an
d I had become friends. I knew that Jake was having trouble in his marriage, and evidence of that became clear with Tommy’s outburst. I wondered if my being openly gay made them wonder about their father. I have seen my fair share of middle-aged men suddenly ‘decide’ that they’ve been gay all along, despite having families. In truth they were probably in denial or simply trying to conform to the world around them. I had actually slept with a couple of guys like that. Older guys, who had come out later in their lives after having wives and kids for a decade or more. I don’t know if Tommy or his brother even thought like that, but after hearing him just now, I realized that things must have been worse at home than Jake let on, or worse at least than I imagined. I decided to move closer to the back to listen in on Tommy’s conversation a little, and I used thirst as my excuse. I made my way back to the water bottles and rummaged around while Tommy spoke to Glen Billings. Jake, meanwhile, had shaken off the effects of his son’s accusations and began talking to the impatient Colonel Cannaveral.

  “Colonel, I know you want to take a stab at the Greenbriar,” Jake began, “But I’ve got one more son to get first. Two hours south to Virginia Tech, then we’ll turn around and come back through. I promise.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

  We drove through the small road that connected VMI with its liberal arts neighbor, Washington & Lee University. The stark contrast in campus styles was immediate. VMI looked like a military barracks. Like a fort with athletic fields. W&L looked like an antebellum plantation. Crisp maroon brickwork flanked by sharp white columns everywhere. Washington & Lee’s colonnade was picturesque, and outlined the front lawn of the school, lying in a gentle slope that buffered it with Lee Chapel, the resting place of confederate general Robert E. Lee. Lee was big medicine in this part of the country. He was portrayed as a loyal native son who would not invade his home state for a pushy federal government. Once defeated, Lee took over then Washington College and instituted a number of educational reforms and put the school on the map. He could do no wrong in a town that idolized both him and his colleague, Stonewall Jackson. Jackson’s sculpture was equally honored at VMI, where he had guided young Keydets into battle against the invading Yankees in what Southerners refer to as “The War of Northern Aggression.”

  I knew all of this because I had been forced to read about Lee in my graduate history class while working on my Masters. Growing up in Frederick County, Maryland among numerous sites famous for Civil War Battles like Sharptown and Antietam. Living only a few miles from Gettysburg, I had always made it my favorite historical topic. It always seemed to me like my undergrad courses focused more on the battles, while my grad classes focused more on the generals. I had studied Stuart, Longstreet, Pickett—all of the biggies. But Lee had captured my heart, which I always found surprising. I’m not usually a fan of confederates.

  In this day and age, admiring a confederate general usually meant keeping company with white supremacists, homophobes, xenophobes, and misogynists. The country had divided itself sharply the past few years with recent presidencies and administrations working hard to divide the country. There was little refuge anymore in America for independent thinkers. I think that’s why I liked Jake.

  Jake Fisher hated to be pigeon-holed or classified by anyone. I suppose you would have to call him ‘moderate,’ but only because the average of his extremes fell somewhere in the middle. He believed in a strong defense—a very Republican ideal generally—but he was socially very liberal, and very protective over me, his female colleagues, and anyone of color. He liked the idea of lower taxes, but also felt that the government’s job was to take care of the weak, the poor, and the needy. He was a man at odds with himself. In that way, he was similar to Robert E. Lee. Lee felt strongly about his country, went to West Point, and served the U.S. proudly. But when his country decided to take arms against his state, it put a personal touch to a problem that had been overly simplified as ‘slavery vs. abolition.’ In the North, Lee got a bum rap as a supporter of rebels and a loser who surrendered. In the South, Lee was still a candidate for sainthood. Lee would have disliked both of those characterizations. He was more complicated than either of them. I admired complicated guys. I was studying one, and I was traveling with another.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that, Colonel,” said Jake. “That’s personal stuff. Dirty laundry. I’ve taught my boys better than to do that.”

  “Don’t give it a second thought, Marine,” said the Colonel reassuringly. “These are pretty extreme times. They try men’s souls, to paraphrase someone better than myself.”

  “My wife—Mrs. Fisher and I—we were struggling a little like most empty-nesters do. I don’t know if you can relate,” Jake said.

  “I can,” the Colonel said simply.

  Jake nodded. “Well, then you know that empty nesters sometimes find it a little hard getting reacquainted with one another. After dedicating the better part of twenty years almost entirely to our boys, Mrs. Fisher and I were, well, having some trouble getting reacquainted as partners. I think the boys noticed, and maybe they misinterpret things a bit. At any rate, I’ll talk to him about…everything.”

  “Life has some challenging milestones, Jake,” said the Colonel. “They almost seem cliché once you reach a certain age. But just because you can see a milestone coming doesn’t make it less of a milestone.”

  “Sounds like you understand where I’m coming from,” Jake said. “Do you?”

  “I’m divorced, and recently started dating again,” said the Colonel. “I have grown kids, and we had some of our biggest clashes when they came back from college. What you’re experiencing is actually fairly common. I’m not trying to diminish it in any way,” he clarified, “and everyone’s situation is his or her own, but there are likely a lot of people who can identify with your particular situation, Jake. A lot of people.” Jake pursed his lips and nodded, slumping a little.

  “Tommy, dude, you’re not gonna believe the shit we saw on the way down here,” said Glen Billings.

  “Try me,” Tommy Fisher said. “If it was college age kids acting like idiots in a crisis, I’ve already seen it,” he said.

  “No, man. It was wild. That Colonel dude up there, he and that Asian lady were at Fort Detrick. We had to go in and rescue ‘em from monsters.”

  “Monsters? Be serious, Glen,” said Tommy.

  “I am serious, dude. These things looked like humans, but they were fucking orange, and had white hair, and hopped around like monkeys. It was wild,” said Glen. Tommy immediately frowned and turned to me with a look that asked Are you kidding me? I nodded back.

  “He’s not exaggerating,” I said. “These things were really fucked up.” I winced a little. I had gotten used to guarding my tongue around students in school, and I had been a teacher when I first met Tommy, and I had to watch myself. I still wasn’t used to the new reality.

  “But orange?” he asked.

  “Orange,” I answered. “Like the inside of a blood orange, kind of dark. Really, really weird looking. The Colonel says they’re a result of the weapons used on us by other countries. Have you seen anything like that here?” I asked.

  “Not at all. This place seems completely untouched, except for occasional blackouts and power problems, but enough folks have solar or wind power here that they had back-up generators rolling the next day after the first loss of power. Nothing like what you’re saying.”

  “Things back home, in Frederick and in Emmitsburg, they’re kinda messed up. There was looting back home. Violence,” I said.

  “The Colonel says my dad was a hero. Was he exaggerating?” asked Tommy. “People often exaggerate when it comes to my dad.”

  “In no way,” I said. “For starters, he fought three thugs who mugged the Heffners.”

  “Tanner’s family?” Tommy asked.

  “Yes. They were in their car, and three guys went up and attacked them. Your dad,” I paused. Glen looked at me with a strange expression. I hesitated.


  “Go on. My dad what?” Tommy asked.

  “He took care of the problem,” I said.

  Tommy just looked at me. He frowned slightly and tilted his head as if to assure me that he could handle the details of what I was trying to gloss over.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “Your dad killed two of them and drove off the other. Then, later on, we ran into four more thugs trying to kill us in the Wal-Mart. Your dad handled them too. He drove us here and helped rescue Wendy and the Colonel from a bad spot in Fort Detrick. Without his help they would likely be dead by now. He’s been a one-man wrecking crew,” I said.

  “Yeah. He usually is,” said Tommy. “Scorched Earth everywhere, no matter what.”

  I couldn’t begin to put myself in Tommy’s shoes. I wanted to defend Jake, but that’s hard to do in front of a family member who knew him quite differently. Jake had never told me to go to bed, threatened a loss of privileges if I didn’t do my homework, or rough-housed me if I got mouthy with him. My relationship with Jake was professional, equal, and friendly. Tommy’s clearly was not.

  “Don’t be too hard on him,” I said. “He’s been through a lot in the past few days. He was on the phone with your mom when the bombs fell. The phone just clicked off. He doesn’t know what happened to her. That by itself would be enough.”

  “Yeah, but how hard did he try?” interrupted Tommy.

  “I’m not finished. That would be hard enough, but he has sons. Not knowing your status was extremely difficult for him. It looks fine around here, but compared to what we’ve seen, I can only imagine what was going through his mind. Add to that his need to literally fight for his life twice, be pushed out of Hunter’s Run by a faction of conservative teachers, enter a radioactive fort surrounded by some kind of weird creature people to rescue strangers, and come down here to find you and Vinny. He’s leading all of us,” I said. “You need to cut him some slack. I don’t know what kind of father he was or is. I can’t speak to that, and I won’t try. I just know that as a man, he’s doing pretty damn well, and we need him sane. And I’ve seen what arguing with you does to him. So, give him some room, stay off his case a little, and let him finish his…quest.”