Decoration for Valor

by Joe Cassilly

  Hank got up and said, “I better get something to wash this porch off with.”

  Ann came out of the side door. “What are you two up to?”

  I pointed at Hank, “I told you about this guy Ann he can’t hold his liquor.”

  “Me!” protested Hank, “I show up and he starts throwing beer bottles at me while they still have beer in them.”

  Ann shook her head. “Bad little boys, I have to baby sit bad little boys. I’ll get a bucket of water to wash this off.”

  “I’ll come help you,” said Hank. In a minute, they were back. He carried a bucket of water and she carried the tray of red, raw steaks. She handed me a long handled fork. She was wearing a trace of makeup and she smelled pretty good too. When Hank finished rinsing the porch, Ann took the bucket and started back inside.

  “Hey why don’t you sit down and relax with us?” asked Hank.

  “I gotta get my biscuits out of the oven.”

  Hank settled back on the porch rail with a fresh beer. He looked out at the garden. “Jake, can I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask it, I may not answer it.”

  “What was it like…” He paused and took a sip. “…Over there.” I stabbed the fork into a steak and listened to it sizzle on the grill. I took a swig of beer and let out a long sigh. It was a question I should have been ready to answer, but was not.

  “I guess most days it was routine boredom interrupted from time to time by confusion and hell.” I poked the steaks and flipped them to sear the other side. “I remember one day the platoon leader had a formation and asked for volunteers for a dangerous mission.” I paused until Hank looked back at me and I smiled. “Turned out some of our Kit Carson scouts—they were ex-Viet Cong who scouted for us— wanted a couple of us to come to the village for dinner. Me and five other guys figured what the hell, we packed into a jeep and drove to the village.

  “The house was basically one big room made out of six by sixes and one by sixes. The roof and walls were corrugated metal and scrap metal off the Army base.” Ann came out, carrying the bread basket covered with a cloth, sat it on the table, and pulled a chair up beside Hank. “We all sat at this big long table. It’s just the Rangers and the scouts; the women did the serving. Over there, the women know their place.” Ann grabbed Hank’s beer, shook it, and sprayed me.

  “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the women brought in trays of assorted glass jars that they had rescued from the dump and cleaned. They put chunks of ice in them and gave us all bottles of Vietnamese Thirty-three beer. We poured it over the ice.” I looked; they were holding hands.

  “Now, the water that makes the ice is of questionable origin and, as it freezes, things may fall into it. After it is frozen into blocks, it is stored in an ice house and sawdust is sprinkled over it to keep adjacent blocks from freezing together. The effect of pouring the warm beer over the ice is to free small creatures, sawdust, and other unidentifiable objects that foam to the top and float on the head of the beer. I skimmed the head off with my finger and flicked it on the dirt floor. After a glass or two, you don’t even bother to skim off the head.”

  I turned the steaks again and had another swallow of beer. “They served this white stuff that I took for a filet of fish. I picked some up, looked around at the other guys, and put it in my mouth and started chewing. After what seemed like five minutes of chewing the same bite of fish, I notice everyone else is chewing. I swallowed the rest in a gulp. I asked the scout beside me what it was. He tells me it’s water buffalo. I ask what part of water buffalo and he draws a line from his throat down his chest to his stomach. We figured he meant that it was tripe.”

  Eeyyuu, cow stomach,” said Ann, making a face.

  “Buffalo esophagus,” I corrected. The steaks were done and we moved to the table. Ann led the prayer. I insisted on trying to cut my own steak. Ann and Hank would watch the effort from time to time.

  “Jake,” said Hank as he finished, “you know if you’re gonna be home this summer, you could come back and work at the shop.” Ann finished eating. I was attempting to saw off a second piece of steak.

  “Please, let me help you cut that,” she offered. I surrendered the meat.

  I looked back at Hank and asked, “Doing what?”

  “We could use you on the inside selling stuff and answering questions. You probably know as much about it as anybody working there.”

  I chewed the pieces Ann had cut. “Thanks, Hank.” I almost said no. “I might take you up on it.”

  Ann got up and gathered two handfuls of dishes and headed for the kitchen. Hank followed her with what was left. In a few minutes, Hank came back. “Where’s Ann?” I asked.

  “She said she had to clean the kitchen.” I started pushing into the house. “The hell you say, wait here.” I rolled through the house.

  “WHAT are you doing? You can do this later.”

  “I wanted to get this taken care of before your mother got home.”

  I had completely forgotten about my mother. “Forget her. The whole idea is to find another guy that you could see naked besides me.”

  “Jake!” Her face turned scarlet.

  “I’m serious, go take the big lug for a walk in the garden.” I got behind her and started running into her and pushing her out of the kitchen. She started through the dining room and I called after her. “This time, when you want to kiss him…” She turned. “…Do it.”

  I shoved the leftovers into the refrigerator, and filled the sink with soapy water for the dishes to soak in. Then, I pushed around to the bathroom. I looked through the living room windows and did not see them on the porch.

  I went to the sun porch. I took off my shirt and boots. I laid down and stretched my back. Soon, I went to sleep. A dream began.

  I was waking in the hospital. A blinding light hung over me. There were silhouettes of people. A woman leaned over me, pulled my eyelids open, and looked at my pupils. “He’s conscious,” she called. “Hey Major! Does this guy look familiar?”

  Someone moved the light so that it was not in my eyes. “Hi, ranger.” I recognized Major Nurse and forced a smile. Pain, like fire, burned over my body. A medic and a nurse stepped up on either side of me and started cutting off my clothes. “Let me help you get your make up off,” said the Major. She took a large gauze pad and put some skin cleaner on it and began very gently wiping off the black and green camo stick I had painted my face and hands with. Her fingers were cold and smooth and her grip was firm. She took a small pair of clippers and started shaving my head.

  “It’s a good thing you hardcore types don’t have any hair. I’d be here all day if I had to shave some of these hippies.” The doctor came over and started to explain drilling into my skull. I was so tired and aching that I was past caring. Once they started drilling, I passed out. When I awoke, I was looking at the ceiling. Her face leaned over mine and she looked at my pupils and behind my eyes. “Do you know that you have little gold circles between the blue and the pupils of your eyes?”

  I wanted to say that, under the circumstances, I could care less, but that took too much energy. I tried to say, “No.” My tongue stuck to my lips. I managed to whisper, “Drink.”

  “You can’t have anything to drink for awhile.” She took a gauze pad, dipped it into a pitcher of water, and wiped my lips and tongue.

  “Jake Scott! Ann Jacobs! What are you doing?!” It was my mother’s voice. I was still trying to come out of the fog of sleep. I could not figure out why she sounded so upset. I opened my eyes and looked. Ann was lying beside me in bed. “What have you two been doing?” my mother kept yelling louder.

  “I have been sleeping,” I said. I turned and looked at Ann. “What have you been doing?”

  “I came in to help you get ready for bed,” she said defensively. “I couldn’t wake you up so I laid down to take a nap and help you if you woke up later.” We were both lying under the blanket. Ann got up and she was wearing the blue pajama shirt.


  “Don’t you think that you should wear some clothes around him?” demanded my mother of Ann. I was shocked at the tone of her voice; you would have thought she caught us in the middle of sex. Ann sat in the chair like a child being put in the corner and pulled the shirt over her knees. They’re not sisters, I thought, they’re mother and daughter. No wonder Ann won’t have anyone over; they’d never get a passing grade from my mother.

  I tuned back into my mother’s tirade about how this looked. My mother was telling Ann to leave her house when I cut in, “Mother, can it! Will you? Nothing happened. This woman has been helping me for the past two days, because you did not have time for me.” Uh-oh. I slipped. I hadn’t meant to say that last part. My mother glared at me. Never before had I spoken to her in that tone of voice. She stormed from the room. We listened as she climber the stairs and slammed the door to her bedroom.

  I blew out a deep breath and had a sudden craving for a cigarette. “Well, that wasn’t how I had pictured my homecoming reunion.” Ann was crying. I threw the blanket off and got back into the chair and rolled over to Ann. I took her hand between mine.

  “I just laid down with you,” she said, catching a sob, “because I was afraid that if I went to my room, I wouldn’t hear you call when you woke up.” She was behaving like a little girl scolded by a parent, dependent on her sister’s approval.

  “Sit over here and let me give you a hug?” I patted my lap.

  “I couldn’t—your mother.”

  “To hell with my mother. She’s going to sulk in her room.” She sniffed and dried her eyes on her sleeve and slid onto my lap. I put my arms around her and gently rocked her. “How’d you and Hank get along?”

  She smiled and her eyes brightened. “You know what he likes?”

  “No. What does he like?” I expected an answer like professional wrestling.

  “He likes opera. He asked me to go to Philadelphia on Friday evening to see one.”

  “So you’re going, right?”

  “How will you get ready for bed?”

  “Darling, I’ll manage that.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “She’s my mother, not your mother. It’s time you started living the life you want.”

  “Do you think it’s too late to call Hank and tell him I’ll go?”

  “What time is it?”

  “11:30.”

  “Nah. I think he’d like to get a call. You go do that and I’ll get undressed and meet you in the bathroom.” The first day home from the hospital had gone pretty well.

  34

  What I Deserved

  Ann woke me and handed me a mug of steaming coffee. She was wearing a blue cotton dress with a white collar. “I have to leave for work. Want me to help you get dressed before I go?”

  “Yes, thanks. Have you seen my mother this morning?”

  “She came down and went out already. I think she’s still mad. Do you think she really wants me to move out?

  “Naa, she ain’t still mad,” I said with conviction, although, inwardly, I admitted she could be.

  “I was thinking that I have a lot of leave saved. I could take off a few days and we could do something together,” she offered.

  “Well that’s nice, but why don’t you take off a few days and spend them with Hank.”

  “Hey, don’t start pushing me. I already have too many mothers.”

  “Yeah, mind my own business. Okay, take off Wednesday and we’ll ride around Lancaster, maybe go shopping.” I was in the bathroom when I heard the front screen door close. When I came out, I stopped and listened. There were noises in the kitchen. My mother was frying bacon and whipping pancake batter. She looked up as I came in but looked back down and her arm started working faster. I rolled beside her and put my arm around her waist.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you last night.”

  “Why did you speak to me like that?”

  I backed away from her so that I could see her face when I spoke. “Mom, did you hear what you were saying? I mean, if you don’t trust Ann and me, I would at least think you know us well enough to know that I’m not going to sleep with your sister. Ann is a grown woman. It was humiliating to her to be scolded by you. I’ve seen enough humiliation that it upsets me to watch it.”

  She was handling the whisk in her hand like a whip. I could see her clenching her jaw muscles. I asked hopefully, “Are we friends?”

  She nodded and said, “Sit down and I’ll have your breakfast ready.”

  “Mom.” I waited for her to stop stirring and look at me. “I am sitting down.” I finally got to her; she smiled. She was flipping pancakes when the phone rang. She picked it up and walked, trailing the long cord back to the stove. I sat sipping coffee and reading yesterday’s paper. I could tell from listening to my mother’s half of the conversation that she was talking to Mrs. Robinson.

  When she hung up, she sat plates on the table and sat down with me. “Did you see the Robinsons yesterday?”

  “Yeah, at church.”

  “They want to invite us for cocktails on Friday, a welcome home party for you. Isn’t that nice?”

  “Yeah mom, that’s very thoughtful.”

  “What do you want to do today?”

  “I’m going to fill out these college applications.” I nodded at the mail I’d opened yesterday.

  “Oh, where are you applying to?”

  “Penn State, Arizona, University of Miami—maybe Chaminaude in Hawaii.”

  “What about Princeton? Your grandfather and father went to Princeton.”

  “Mom, I couldn’t get into Princeton.”

  “Why not?” she said with alarm that I would harbor such a heretical thought. “You got A’s in high school and very good SAT scores.”

  “No, Mom, I mean physically. I could never get up all those steps into those ancient buildings.”

  “Oh.” Her voice registered disappointment that the tradition would be broken. I went into the living room to my father’s desk and uncovered the typewriter. I threaded the pages of the applications through the roller. I rested the edges of my palms on the top of the typewriter and used my thumbs to push the keys. I went very slowly, not wanting to send in applications covered in correction fluid. One application asked me to write a paragraph on why I wanted to attend that school.

  I tried to get creative but admitted that telling them I didn’t want to spend months struggling through snow drifts or that I wanted to see women in skimpy clothing was not going to impress them. Filling in the paperwork took all morning. About 11:00 a.m., I went to the liquor cabinet and fixed myself a scotch over ice. I went back to the desk and shook the cover out to put it back over the typewriter. I knocked a pile of letters off the corner of the desk. I leaned forward to pick them up and the chair tilted forward and I almost went out on my nose. I thrust my hand down and pushed up from the floor. I slid the letters against a wheel and slid them up the frame of the chair until I could get them between my palms. I noticed that some of them were overdue bills and notices. I felt a bit ashamed that I had not thought that my mom was having trouble making ends meet. I would have to find a way to help.

  After a whole morning of typing and scotch, I needed a nap. When I woke, I went looking for my mother. She was in the garden, weeding and mulching.

  She looked up. “Jake, I put some lunch on the little table there.”

  “Thanks, mom.” I asked between chews, “Do think I could set exercise equipment up on the sun porch so that I can work out?”

  “Sure, dear, I’ll ask Ann to help me move some of that furniture into the basement and we’ll bring your weights and bench down out of Ann’s room.”

  “Ann’s room?”

  “Oh, yes, besides running, she lifts weights.” I smiled; what an aunt. I went and collected the college materials and wrote a check. I went out to the Pontiac and my mother followed to watch the loading operation.

  “That’s a very nice car.”

  “Yeah, Mom, it
was a get well present from Uncle Sam.” I bit my lip and wondered how to approach the subject. “You know, Mom, between social security, VA comp, and my back pay, I’ve got $4,000 in the bank.” Her face registered that she knew where I was going. “I accidentally saw the bills on the desk. I would like you to take this.” I handed her the check.

  “Jake,” she said, looking at it, “I can’t take this. It’s your money. “I’ve started a job as a real estate agent. I’ll be earning some money soon.”

  “Mom those are family bills and I’m a member of the family. Now, you take it or else…” I paused. “…I’ll go around and pay them on my own.”

  “Thank you, Jake.” She leaned through the car window and kissed my cheek.

  I stopped at the gas station and an attendant came out. I looked at the prices; premium was thirty-two cents a gallon. “Fill it up with the good stuff, please.” The guy pumped the gas, cleaned the windshield, and checked the oil. I paid him $4.80. I drove to Eisenhower High School. It had been built in 1958. There was a large circular drive in front with the U.S. and Pennsylvania flags flapping from poles in the center of the circle. I parked in the side lot. I pushed around the building, looking for a way up over the curb. There musta been people in wheelchairs thirteen years ago, I thought. How come nobody thought about them when they built this place? At the back of the building, I found a wooden ramp that was meant to drive the lawn tractor over. I pushed up that and went through the nearest door. I was pushing down a long hall toward the office when the bell rang. Doors burst open and kids poured into the hall. They were hurrying to their next class and kept bumping into the chair or tripping over my feet.