by Sonia Rumzi
Contents
Title Page
MARCUS IN IRAQ
MARCUS IN IRAQ
by
Sonia Rumzi
Sausalito, California
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 Sonia Rumzi All rights reserved.
Published by Heart Press
Cover Art Copyright © 2011 istefano.com
Layout & Design by Stefano
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information: Heart Press, Rights Department, 1001 Bridgeway, #161, Sausalito, CA 94965
First Edition Aug 2011
ISBN: 978-1-937079-09-3
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Marcus in Iraq
In the sweltering heat, the tank closed in on him. But he promised her, he would be back. Promised also to be careful and so he was. Staying down and closed in, was the worst feeling in this blistering sun heating the metal around him. Safety was his first priority so he kept himself down and out of sight. The enemy will shoot if your head showed and this warrior had no intention of losing his life. Losing his head to ignorance was not his style.
The oppressive uselessness of the hours spent under the bright star of day brought with it a morose fever of boredom. Not much of a reader, not much of a writer, not much of anything but a gamer and warrior, there was little to occupy his mind.
He rubbed his hands over his sweating face then grabbed the metal seat of the vehicle he occupied with both hands. As always he felt alone but just for a few minutes, he took full advantage of throwing a temper tantrum in his mind. His soldiers would never see him in that state but as they were not around for just those few moments, he needed the release.
The money he made for this escapade was well worth it as his family awaited him on the other side of the Atlantic. He left her with their two boys, well provided for until his return. The rumble above him was the metal hatch slamming shut.
"You guys will get yourselves killed doin' this over and over."
"Can't stay in Staff Sergeant. It's oppressive in here," said the youngest one in the tank. "Have to get out."
"Great! But you will get yourself killed doing it Jimmy."
"Nah! No, one's on the street," said the Loader called Jimmy.
"They in hiding, knucklehead," said his Staff Sergeant and Platoon Commander.
"They're always in hiding Staff Sergeant. That mean we have to stay in here all the time?" said Gunner John.
"Pretty much if you want to get out of here alive."
He lowered his head ending the conversation. Little did he possess in common with these three boys, but then again, they were all he had. Each other and the tank protecting them for the time being was all they shared. The six months better move on before he lost his mind. Well, it had been four months now.
"I just got a letter from my wife," said Jimmy pulling out paper from his uniform pocket. "Can't wait to read it. I miss her so much. I have a little girl too."
He noted that Marines rambled after receiving letters from home. The missing, the loneliness, the isolation made them cling to the simple sight of written words on paper from loved ones. Shaking his head he looked ahead where the sand stretched on either side of the street they patrolled. This was not a city in Iraq, it was a town on the outskirts and sand was everywhere.
"You never get letters do you Staff Sergeant?"
"No."
"How come?" asked Jimmy.
"My wife is not a writer but we talk on line when we can. I see her on Skype once a week or more."
As Jimmy read his letter, they quieted down giving him time to his thoughts.
Marcus remembered the first time he saw his wife. He stopped at another Marine's home to drop off paperwork and there was the man's sister opening the door. Marcus saw her silhouetted, as she stood in the doorway.
All he thought was how beautiful the door framed her in the light behind her. Dark hair, dark eyes and a hook nose that fit the face, with a beautiful smile, topping it all off as she invited him in to see her brother.
"Would you like to go to the movies tonight?" he asked just as his business ended and was leaving.
Looking around her for confirmation which she got from no one, she answered him, "Sure."
"Pick you up at six?"
"That would be good," she said.
And as he opened the door to leave, he turned, "What's your name?"
"Faith," she said.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Marcus."
"I know. I heard my brother."
He left the house walking on air meeting this beautiful woman without calculation. Maybe life offered gifts after all. His intentions were a mere connection. Yet when he picked her up that evening, something about the girl made him want her for good. She wore jeans and a simple shirt, hair down around a clean unpainted face which surprised him to no end.
"What would you like to see tonight?"
"Anything but horror," she said without hesitation.
"Would you prefer doing something else?" he asked.
"That would be fine too. I am not very keen on movies but we can go."
They ended up in one of the bars on Main Street in the small Southern town. She drank like a sailor and played pool like a shark. Never a curse or loss of calm as she played having fun and laughing as he watched her. He remembered how she sparkled standing out in the room full of painted women.
The calm broke when Jimmy wailed from behind him loud and keening.
"She wrote me just to say she's leavin'," he cried. "She's taking my little girl and she's leavin' me. My wife just left me."
Stunned the other three men looked at him.
"She can't leave you when you're here in hell," said John. "That just don't seem right."
"I can't believe she left me," said Jimmy, crying now. "Staff Sergeant I have to go home. I have to go home and see what the problem is."
"You can't go home," said Marcus. "Focus boy. You can't go home. Think of another solution. There ain't no goin' home till this tour's over."
He could hear Jimmy crying behind him but did not want to engage much more in this conversation. There was little he could say to the boy and he was not a Counselor anyway. Let him talk to the Chaplain. He then thought of his home, getting agitated in his heart.
"Everything was fine last week. She loved me. She told me she's waitin' for me," said Jimmy. "Nothin' was wrong. She said she'd wait."
"Dude this loneliness kills them. They have to find someone else. My wife left me the second month I's here," said John. "I got a Dear John letter. A real Dear John letter. Said she couldn't wait no more and wished me the best."
"What did you do John? I'm not sure what to do here. I got two more weeks and I leave."
"I cried and drank brother. That's what I did. Cried and drank. Eased the pain."
"When d'ya go back?" asked Jimmy.
"Still got three months before I lift off, thank God. I can leave this hell hole. The sooner the better!"
"I go back in two weeks and she couldn't wait another two weeks," blubbered Jimmy wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"She couldn't wait a few more days."
Marcus sat facing front without a word. The few coming to mind were useless and since they all knew he was a man of few words anyway, he was safe. Now his gut churned at the thought of being the only one in the small space with a pregnant wife and son waiting at home. Or were they?
"If my wife did not write me, I would not believe she loved me," said Jimmy. "Not sure how you do it Staff Sergeant."
Marcus looked over his shoulder but refused engagement since his retort was, 'Much good that did you, those letter huh?' So he said nothing. The thought ate at his brain and his stomach turned to acid as he sat waiting for the evening where he could talk to Faith and his little boy.
"Why didn't she wait for me?" asked Jimmy again. "Staff Sergeant, what would you do? How would you handle it?"
"I don't know man. I don't know what to tell you. Maybe when you get back, things will change and she will remember how much she loved you," tried the irate Marcus.
Part of his job involved caring and counseling his Marines but this, this was just more than his nerves could handle. The boy's blubbering helped little to ease the pressure.
"When we go in, you can talk to the Chaplain. He can help with your questions."
"The Priest?" asked Jimmy.
"We have another one who's not a Priest. Some other guy without a collar thing," said Marcus pointing to his own neck. "Just stop it for now. This is not helping you or us."
The boy quieted down and Marcus heard him sniffling as he tried to stop the crying.
He asked her out again and again. They walked by the ocean in the park.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"If I was seeing someone how could I be out here with you tonight," she asked smiling.
"Don't know! Just had to ask," he said taking her hand in his, twining their fingers together. "Want things clear, on the up and up."
"Not sure what kind of women you dated. But if I was, I would not be here with you."
He nodded kissing her on the mouth. She was soft and supple as she melted against his chest with the beautiful sunset behind them. As he turned her around, putting his arms around her waist, he pointed at the sun in the horizon.
"It's beautiful," he whispered in her ear leaning into her. "All bright and colorful like you."
"I am hardly colorful," she said to him. "I wear grey and black."
"You colorful on the inside," he said to her. "Your heart is bright orange like the sun at sunset."
"Yes, it is," she answered holding his arms.
Swaying together, he kept his head by her ear. When a few days later, he rented a room on Main in one of the bed and breakfast establishments, she joined him and their lovemaking was all he could want. As he held her in his arms, she was quiet with her head on his chest.
"You are so wonderful," he said. "Where did you learn to be so giving in your love making?"
"I'm not sure what you mean," she said as she raised her head looking at him.
He pulled her back down to his chest.
"You don't even know," he said to her. "You're amazing. You hold nothing back. Are you trying to make me fall in love wid you?"
"Are you not in love with me?" she asked.
"Yes. I'm in love wid you."
"So there is your answer. I was not trying anything. I was loving you back."
Their whole relationship, she answered his questions that way. Nothing dramatic about her! Easy going and content most all the time.
"Why did you move here with your brother?"
"His wife died last year and things were getting out of hand with his children."
"He asked you to come and help?"
"No. I offered. He would never have asked."
"That's very nice of you."
"He is all the family I've got. Our Mom always said that we only have each other."
"Where are your parents?"
"Mom is on her own in DC and Dad is in Europe somewhere. They divorced when I was eight."
"Sorry."
"No need. Best thing that could have happened. She was smart to leave."
"You don't believe in marriage?"
"I believe in marriage but not stupidity or ugliness."
"You're beautiful."
"I did not mean that kind of ugly. I meant ugly of the soul. My father is unkind."
"Why did your Mother not come down to help then?"
"My Mother has a job. Me on the other hand, was still playing with jobs. I was not sure what I wanted to do after college."
"What did you study?"
"International Business."
"What's that?"
"I was hoping for a job on Wall Street."
"Wow! And you didn't go?"
"No. I realized that it was not the course my life needed to take. Too much greed on the Street."
"But it's a money maker."
"Sure is," was all she answered. "That was why I wanted to be there."
They were quiet for a few moments comfortable in their four walls.
"What should we do now?"
"Now this minute? I am comfortable."
"No, now that we're together. I can't imagine sleeping somewhere without you at night."
"I can ask my brother. Maybe you can share my room."
"No way," he said jumping out of the bed.
"Why not? It would be more reasonable rent wise and I can still help with my nephews. Come back to bed. It will be alright."
And sure enough, keeping her word, he was asked to move in with them. Those few months proved some of the most beautiful of their time together. They shared expenses with her brother and in the evenings he came home to a family. Her cooking was even delicious.
When she got pregnant, Marcus was beside himself with joy.
"I thought I could not have kids," he said to her that day leaning against her belly. "My first wife never had a child and I thought I couldn't. This's so amazing!"
"That means the news made you happy. I am so glad," she said with her hand on his hair. "I am happy too."
To celebrate that night he took her out for dinner at an Italian restaurant. He loved his pasta and meat sauce.
"I could have made that at home," she said to him. "Eat something else."
"I like this. This is my food."
"How was your first wife Marcus?"
"How was she in what way?"
"How was she in general?"
"Nothing like you, I can tell you that."
"Yeah?"
"Nothing like you. She was loud and obnoxious. She wanted everything, grabbed everything. I don't know how she was. She was not a nice woman."
"Something made you marry her."
"Yeah. Stupid and young. I was stupid and young and she was gorgeous and wild."
"I am neither," said Faith in her usual quietness.
"I know baby and that's why I love you so much. You're nothing like my crazy wife."
"X-wife?"
"Yes, of course, x-wife."
"Staff Sergeant?"
"Huh?" said Marcus coming back to his reality. "What did you say Jimmy?"
"Tell me what to do Staff Sergeant. I'm not sure how to handle this."
"Take time to grieve man. Just take time to be sad," said Marcus surprising himself.
"But I want my family back Staff Sergeant. I don't want to grieve. I want them back. I want to go home."
"Did you two have a fight?"
"Yes, we did. The last time she sent me a letter and told me she needed money for something she wanted at home, that's when I called her so she did not have to wait and told her that I had none. She got so mad and we yelled on the phone. I wish I gave it to her now."
"Does she work?"
"No. She takes care of my daughter."
"Lots of women work even with children," said Marcus.
"Does your wife Staff Sergeant?"
"No. My wife and I decided that she should stay home and take care of the kids."
"So did we. W
e decided that she should be home for my daughter."
"Did you talk about this or did it just happen and she did not work Jimmy?"
Jimmy thought about it for a few moments, "Yeah, well. She worked as a waitress when we met." He laughed at the memory. "She stopped working when she got pregnant."
"Why?"
"She wasn't feeling up to it and all. She said she could not stand up during the pregnancy. Feet hurt or somethin'."
"So this was not a decision you made together. She stopped on her own."
"Yes, Staff Sergeant," said the boy, then, "what you gettin' at Staff Sergeant?"
"I am trying to explain that you never talked anything out Jimmy. Seems to me, that without considering that you couldn't afford it, or her realizing that is less money coming in, she just quit."
Jimmy nodded. "She brought in quite a bit too, with tips and all. It helped a lot and she had her own money."
"Yes. It gets harder when you are used to a certain amount of money and then it disappears."
"I'm doing the best I can Staff Sergeant."
"I didn't say you wasn't," said Marcus regretting this line of conversation. He knew this was a mistake. He hated these dialogues. "I was jus' pointing out the flaws in the plan."
"I'm sorry Staff Sergeant, I know you were. I thought we had an understanding."
"You understood but she understood something else. You never talked about it."
"No, we did not. Not exactly."
"She's expecting the same kind of money she had when she worked. Like a salary."
"But that could never happen Staff Sergeant. I don't make hardly enough for that."
In all this John said little just as Francis the Driver said nothing. They sat against the hot metal of the tank listening in on the conversation of the other two. Pulling out a tattered letter from his pocket, John read it through again.
Dear John,
I know this be bad time to say this but I cant do this no more. I cant worry bout you no more and I cant stand that your not here. Im lonely and I hate being alone. The only thing that is good is that we dona have children together. Maybe what we done was too fast and rash. We married right before you left and that was too quick, dont you think?
I met someone and hes here with me not somewhere else in the world blowing up peeple. I cant do this. I cant wait for you. Im sorry. Have a good life. I am sorry.
