Brothers of Different Mothers

by C. L. Jones

  After the two minutes of sit-ups and another two minutes of pushups Baldy yelled, “Okay that’s it times up, get up and get ready for your run. I’ll give you boys five minutes to get ready for your two miles.” The team captain got up from the ground red faced and holding his chest with his right hand. Pops took note of his reaction and how out of shape the guy was. After the five-minute time out Baldy yelled, “Okay boys, time to party.” Baldy took his place by the starting line. The candy striper sergeants got their toe to the line with no problems but the floundering captain walked up as if it were his last mile. When the captain was toe to the line at last, Baldy said, “Get ready, get set and go.”

  The rest of the red team stood there and watched as the candy striper sergeants took off like there was nothing to it. The captain started off at a blundering, side-to-side wobble about one third run speed and about two thirds falling forward speed. The team stood there watching him stumble his way down the grassy course. With the captain about halfway down the field the rest of the red team was wondering if he would be able to finish. Then about three quarters of the way through the first mile he went down like a clean kill airborne duck. From the red team’s viewpoint they could not see any movement what so ever from the captain who now looked like a limp pile of workout clothing.

  Baldy turned to face the red team. He very rapidly scanned the team and when his eyes found Pops he said, “Hey you go check him.” Still wanting to play the office boy character Pops looked at Baldy and started to reply in what would have been his normal tone but instead he weakly said, “Who me?”

  With the captain out on the ground the entire team watched Baldy looking at Pops. Baldy with misplaced momentary anger, called back, “Yah you dummy, now get to it!”

  Pops started clumsily jogging towards the fallen never to be hero when he heard Baldy back behind him yell, “Hurry up, dummy, by the time you get there he’ll have been dead and in his grave for a week.” Hearing Baldy’s voice, Pops wondered what was going on. He knew Baldy was sharp enough to know that this wimpy-boy act that Pops was playing was not for real.

  Pops ran down the field watching the blonde haired man lying there looking like road kill. Getting to the man’s side, he knelt down beside him, reached out and placed his fingers on the side of the fallen man’s neck. He could just barely pick up a pulse and the man’s breathing wasn’t much better. Pops could see that there wasn’t any sweat visible on the man’s forehead so he put his hand on the man’s forehead and felt the skin. It was cool and clammy but not wet. Pops looked back at the others without being obvious.

  Knowing that the rest of the team was about a quarter of a mile back, he bent over the captain to give him mouth to mouth. He pinched the captain’s nose with his left thumb and index finger and placed his right arm across the man’s body. Then Pops laid his cheek on the man’s mouth and nose in a tight seal. He could hear the other men talking as they ran down the grassy field on their way to help him. As they got closer he heard them yelling, “Hold on we’re coming.”

  When the guys reached Pops, one of the men said, “Here, I’ll take over.” Pops moved to get out of the way. The replacement knelt by the man on the ground and put his ear over the man’s nose and mouth. After a couple of seconds, he looked up at Pops and said, “Good work, he’s breathing. Just barely but he’s breathing.”

  The guy turned back to the man on the ground and said with a controlled sense of panic in his voice, “Oh no.” With that he started to give the man mouth to mouth again and went into a full CPR routine. The team gathered around closer and closer. It was weird how still it was in the middle of a field. The men were scattered around the blonde man who was receiving CPR and it was dead quiet. After working like a farm mule the guy doing the CPR stopped, sat up on his knees, looked at the rest of the team and said, “Well I think it’s mission complete for him. I think this was his last mission.”

  Pops looked at Baldy and Baldy was looking back at Pops with a questioning look. Pops looked back down at the ground and then back at Baldy. He shrugged his shoulders and walked back up the field. Pops thought to himself that every agent wonders how his end would come. He supposed none of them ever thought it would come in some stupid cutthroat competition in the middle of a mountain field surrounded by fellow agents. Plus each of them would like nothing more than to stash the one hundred thousand dollars away as investment treasure that did not raise the government’s curiosity.

  As he headed up the field Pops heard Baldy talking about him to the others. Hearing Baldy’s words, he wondered why the guy was covering for him, or at least helping him with his cover. Baldy said to the rest of the red team “Boy that guy ain’t much but he sure gave it his best shot. I don’t think I could have done any better myself.” All the heads nodded in agreement.

  Now the red team was going to be another man short which would put them three men behind the blue team. Pops remembered walking up to the list of assignments in the middle of the board this morning. It was clear that the blue team would have one extra man. Now the balance of manpower was more out of whack.

  Pops went back to his hooch and walked over to an old boom box tape player that was on a back shelf in the hooch. From the looks and apparent age of the player it was clear that the old piece of flash back equipment had been there a long time. The radio didn’t work but that wasn’t a surprise since Pops figured the radio had been disabled to keep the guys in the compound from finding out what town or towns they were nearby. Beside the boom box were really old rock and roll tapes. The age and shape of the tapes indicated to Pops about how long they’d been used by others who had been here before. Pops picked up a tape. Shook it upside down to shake any dust out of it then he read the label. It was an “Oldies” for sure. He read the title and thought, perfect. Popping the tape in and turning it on, he waited. It took a while for it to get going and when it did, he cranked it up. He plopped down on his bed for a little private time. He’d always listened to music, especially country, southern country rock and Motown, which always helped to relax him.

  He laid there with his eyes closed when he felt a change of atmosphere in the hooch. For no particular reason the air around him moved slightly and he was barely able to pick up the smell of body odor. He knew someone was present and they’d quietly come into the hooch. Without opening his eyes, he asked, “What can I do for you?” Pops opened his eyes and saw Baldy standing in the doorway.

  Baldy took a few steps forward into the hooch and stopped at the foot of Pops’ bed and said, “Good job out there.” Then waiting for a reply and not getting it, Baldy went on to say, “Seventeen more to go.”

  Picking his head up just a little and with a snarling scowl on his face Pops sharply replied, “What the hell does that mean?”

  Baldy stopped in his tracks and he looked down at Pops with a confused look on his face. Then he looked back over his shoulder at the hooch door as if he were checking to see if anyone was coming in. The scowl became angrier. Baldy turned and walked as if he were going to leave, but then he stopped again, he turned back towards Pops, he shrugged his shoulders and repeated his earlier remark, “Seventeen more days here, isn’t that about right?” Then flashing an evil smile at Pops he turned back and went out the door.

  Pops felt some strange sense of recognition but couldn’t put his finger on it. As he laid back down he still thought, who the hell is this guy and why is he trying to buddy-up to me? This kept going through Pops mind as he drifted off to sleep, but it was sleep with radar ears and sonar eyeballs.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  THE POT OF GOLD

  As he awoke Pops could see through the slightly opened door of the hooch that it was getting dark. He sat up on the side of the bed and ran his hands over his head and face. Looking back out the door, Pops wondered if he had missed dinner and more importantly the coffee. He left his hooch and saw people still going into the mess hall. Before he’d even entered the mess line he could smell the meat cooking away, potatoes sizzli
ng on the griddle, greens and apple pie. The smell of food stirred the part of him that was still not all the way awake.

  As long as he could remember, Pops had always looked for a quiet place to sit even in a mess hall. So seeing that the same corner that he’d used was empty he headed toward it with a slight smile on his face. He thought to himself, what’s this, assigned seating? You pick it it’s yours? Pops pulled out the chair with his back to everyone for the same reasons he’d done earlier. While eating he wanted some privacy and bullshit chitchat was annoying while he was trying to enjoy his food. Pops thought that most of the others would think it a little odd when Pops sat with his back to the people and the doors, but even with his back to the room he wasn’t worried. He could see every inch of the room, the entire eating area and the cook area behind the services counter. With every bite or drink he took, his eyes were on every person in the reflection of the window glass.

  Pops ate a slow quiet meal with several cups of coffee and placed his tray and dirty dishes in the mess cleaning area. With a veiled look around, he quietly slipped out the back door of the mess hall to an area he had spotted earlier that day. The area had three trees that made a semi-circle and there was a single unevenly cut tree stump right in the center. The stump was just right for sitting and staying out of the way. Whoever had cut it down had had a little trouble. It was clear that about halfway through the cut, the tree’s weight had taken over and the tree had fallen down. In doing so the part that had already been cut was flat and level but the back had split about ten twelve inches higher and formed the back of an almost perfect chair. The natural chair and location fit his needs perfectly. Out here in his little forest lair he could just relax out of the way and be an observer.

  About an hour passed as Pops finished the cup of coffee that he’d smuggled out of the mess hall. He thought about home and family but quickly shook it off knowing that thoughts of the past and what you’d done and what you may have to do wasn’t good in any way. What was done was done and what you may have to do will happen when you have to do it. The unit shrink called it compartmentalizing which was a fancy way of telling him that he put everything into little compartments in his brain and only dealt with them when he had to.

  Pops was ready to leave his newfound haven when one of the guys walked past him as if Pops was sitting on any city street bus stop bench waiting for an across town bus connection. As the unexpected visitor cruised by he calmly said, “Hey guy don’t miss the meeting.” Pops had no idea what meeting he was talking about but he figured it would be back at the chapel, so somewhat regretfully he got up off the stump and headed that way. The stump, the breeze through the trees and being alone was a momentary respite from the life he had chosen.

  Like a bad rerun, Pops saw Baldy walking on a path to intersect him. Pops tried to time his stride so Baldy would get to the chapel before him and he wouldn’t have another unwanted encounter. However, when Baldy spotted Pops walking slowly down the path he stopped and reached down to tie his boot. Pops could not avoid him and as he walked by Baldy said in a very low voice, “Maybe we should not be seen talking alone together very often from now on. Don’t want it to look like we are friendly or anything.” Pops continued on and never said a word back.

  Entering the chapel he found a seat in a pew near the door and sat down. A few more people trickled in to take their places and after a couple of minutes Baldy entered and took a seat. Like most meetings Pops had attended, he waited and time passed with everyone sitting, looking around and fidgeting with something. Finally the man they had called the colonel took the podium but not with the same outgoing tough and forceful attitude as the other day. With a quick look around the room at the men he started speaking. “Gentlemen you’ve been called here to talk about the unnecessary accidents we’ve had so far. This is not the expectation of the people we work for, and like I said before this is not a summer camp and you’re not here to relax or have a nice vacation. We cannot accept any more incidents like we’ve been having. The two teams are still in place and we are going forward as it was laid out to you. The blue team’s first day was a good start and they picked their leaders. They plan to start physical training tomorrow. Unfortunately, the red team was shut down after an accident which has gotten them off to a rough start.”

  With a pause he cast another look over the audience and went on with what he had been saying, “You all know we have an early evening darkness issue here and we will use it to hold the night time activities during the last week. Also, any and all weapons that you brought in from the outside will be exchanged for one out of our armory and ammo will be supplied by the armory sergeant. From this point on you will carry the weapon that we issue with you like you did on active duty. That means you take it every place you go, all the time. Each man will be given two clips of ammo and each clip has twenty rounds, so that’s forty rounds that you’ll be held accountable for.” The Colonel went on, “No one will carry a round in the chamber. That way if you have your weapon with you at all times and there is not a live round chambered, then your weapon is safe and your ammo is accounted for. If there is an occurrence we’ll do a man by man ammo inventory.” He finished by saying, “Gentlemen go back to your hooch and have a good evening and get ready to start. You’re dismissed.”

  Pops walked back to his hooch thinking about everyone’s attitude. With his years of experience and with his paranoia (a constant companion), he didn’t like the overall picture forming in his mind. Back in his hooch he got ready to take a shower. He picked up his towel and shaving bag and headed to the shower house. As he entered Pops saw the backside of a naked man walking from the dressing room into the shower room. This wouldn’t have been unusual except Pops noticed that the man was already wet from head to toe. He thought to himself, why is this guy already wet and headed back into the shower?

  Pops looked quickly around and saw a small black bag lying under the changing bench. He recognized right off that it was one of the bags his hooch mate had had in his duffel bag the other night. No one had seen Pops come in so he thought if he could get the little black bag and get out of the shower house without anyone seeing him he could check it out and hide the bag until later. He approached the small bag taking another look around concerned that this could be a trap and someone could be watching waiting for Pops to do something just like this. Pops continued glancing around and was about to change his mind. He thought maybe he should just leave it lay and see who retrieves it.

  Those thoughts churned through Pops’ head as he snatched up the bag, placed it under his towel and quietly slid back out the shower house door. With a look around he went to his newfound three-tree haven. He set the bag on the tree stump that he had been sitting on earlier and with a lot of caution slowly opened it. In front of his very eyes was somewhere around a pound or maybe even two pounds of plastic explosive. There were not any detonators, det cord or caps of any kind, just the explosive. Holding the bag and the explosive in his hands, all he could think was what the hell was this doing here? Now that he knew what it contained he wished he’d been able to stay around to see who reclaimed the bag.

  Pops figured someone would be looking for it and real soon. He tried to dig a hole near the stump to hide the bag but tree roots kept him from getting deep enough to fully bury the bag. He looked to his right and noticed a small depression nearby. The dirt around the edge of the depression was loose and easy to move. Pops scooped out a small hole with his hands and placed the black bag into the hole in the depression and covered it with dirt. He then took a tree branch that was lying there and used it as a broom to cover his tracks and cover the newly moved dirt.

  After another look around, Pops went back to the shower house. This time when he walked through the door three men were looking around the dressing room and Pops over heard one say, “You were supposed to be watching it, watching it all the time.” The men were clearly very agitated. The instant they saw Pops they started to act as if they were looking for a wedding
ring that belonged to one of the guys. Pops gave them a quick smile, nodded and went about his showering business.

  He stood there in the shower with the hot water running over him and he placed his forehead on the wall to let the water run over his neck and back and said quietly to himself, “It’s a shitty life and only getting shittier.”

  The next morning came all too soon for Pops. He’d been waking up at four thirty every day for years and this morning he knew it was going to be a rough one from the get go. He was awakened by the sound of a loud obnoxious voice. Pops slowly got up and sat on the side of the bed. The obnoxious voice was coming from one of the cadre standing in front of him, “Were you in the shower house last night?”

  “Why,” Pops asked in his own grumpy early morning tone.

  Like a persistence little piss-ant, the annoying asshole repeated his question, “Were you in the shower house last night?”

  Forgetting about his new goofy image, Pops’ old self came rushing to the surface, “Oh, so we are not supposed to take showers while we are here? Go fuck yourself dickhead!” Then Pops pushed passed him and on his way past he bumped the guy hard with his shoulder and snarled, “Get out of my way you dumb hooch rat asshole.”

  After his rude wakeup call with whomever that guy was he headed back to the shower house. Pops shaved and washed his face and stood blankly looking into the mirror at his face. He leaned in closer to the mirror looking into his eyes and confirmed to himself again what he had been thinking for the past year. He’d been doing this job too long. Even though he wasn’t that old he was feeling that old. He just wanted to leave this place and go home and go back to bed. He thought about Mary and their beautiful home and he thought about lying in bed and hearing the seagull’s and the ocean outside his window. He continued looking into the mirror and past the real reflection of someone he no longer knew. In his mind he could see himself and Mary sitting at the small table on the little second story deck outside the bedroom French doors. He had always enjoyed his Sunday morning coffee on that little deck with the smell of the pure ocean air.