EPILOGUE
Even after two years, I hadn’t gotten entirely accustomed to waking up to Sawyer. I didn’t know that I would ever get used to it, even with all of my things moved over to his place and my own quite well inhabited by someone else. A new family had taken residence in my old house, and I wished them the best of luck knowing that I was going somewhere better and, really, perfect in every way for my future.
I woke up and crept out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake Sawyer. He’d had a particularly long day the day before, not getting home until late. He worked hard and left little time for fun, but that was the case with myself as well. Psychiatry was going very well, and I had started a sort of group therapy for veterans to come and talk about their struggles abroad. It was still in the formative process, but it attracted a lot of attention, and the local newspaper had even done a column about it.
I went to the kitchen and started making some eggs and toast. I made enough for the both of us in case Sawyer woke up soon.
Sure enough, I heard footsteps down the hallway within a few moments of the smell of bacon hitting the air.
“Good morning,” he said, pulling me to him from behind and kissing the back of my neck.
“Good morning,” I agreed. Outside some birds chirped, and I didn’t know that anyone could prove to me that a world existed outside that house.
“I told Pete I’d help him with some new decorations in his house,” Sawyer said. “But I don’t know shit about decorations. Do you think you’d be willing to come up with me for a bit?”
“Sure,” I said. I got us some plates and we ate at the table, talking about whether we wanted to get another birdfeeder. The birds nearby were absolutely terrorizing the ones we had set up, but it was too much fun to have them to not want another.
We took a few moments to get dressed. I pulled on a sweater; it was beginning to get a bit chilly. It was uncharacteristic of Texas to get chilly in the fall, but in only early October, it seemed that I would need a sweater. We got in Sawyer’s truck and turned to different radio stations on the way to Pete’s house. I’d been acquainting Sawyer with all the new music styles and technological advances that had taken place in his absence.
When we pulled up to Pete’s house, something looked strange. Or, beautiful, but strange because Pete’s property usually looked humble. The trees had big bows tied around them, and there was a long carpet down the side of the hill covered in flower petals. I looked up the rug and saw a tree stump, one of the older ones that had been there since the first time I’d seen the property.
Sawyer came around and opened my door, and he took my hand and walked with me up to the carpet.
“Is Pete inside?” I asked.
“I brought you here to talk to you,” he told me.
I blushed. I didn’t know what was going on, and while I would usually panic at ‘I want to talk to you,’ the situation seemed far from dire. I set my hand on his arm and nodded. “Alright, then,” I managed, trying not to let my imagination run too wild.
“Since I got back two years ago,” he said, “my life has been indescribably good. I could never have hoped for the family, the friends, and the relationships that I have now. I have a house; I have a good relationship with my father; I have a job—I didn’t expect to have any of those things when I came back. I didn’t think I deserved them.
“But those things all happened because of you. You came into my life and made it something better than I could have ever dreamed. I have you to thank for everything good that’s happened to me, Quinn. I love you very much.” We were approaching the stump, and my heart started to pound.
“I don’t want to see this go,” he said. “I love you, and I want to share the rest of my life with you, if you’ll let me.”
We stopped in front of the stump. Something glinted and caught my eye; I peered and saw a ring, a small silver ring with a diamond-studded center.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
I stared, dumfounded, at the ring. At the stump. The birds in the background filled the silence in the air. Slowly, I began to nod, pressured by the realization that I had to say something.
“Of course. Of course, I will marry you!” I picked the ring up off the stump and slipped it onto my finger.
He pulled me to him in a hug, squeezing me nearly too tight and yet somehow not tight enough. I wrapped my arms around him and bounced on my toes.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”
“Aww, that’s sweet,” said Pete—where had he come from? I turned around and saw him standing off to the side, along with Jesse and Janet and Sawyer’s parents. Babs waved at me too, hiding behind a tree.
“How did you get them all here? How did I not see them?” I was a laughing, crying mess. “Oh my God, Sawyer!”
“They’re good at hiding,” he said simply. He kissed the top of my head, and I turned around to poke him in the chest.
“I’ll get you back for this,” I promised him, the smile never fading from my face.
“You’ve got the rest of our lives,” he told me. He pulled me closer, and I let the world slip away.
SEAL’D SHUT
By Ivy Jordan
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Ivy Jordan
Chapter One
SAWYER
“You really need to bring all that shit back with you?” John leaned against my truck and peered inside. I hefted a suitcase over the bed of it and huffed from the effort, then took another bag and repeated the process.
“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t have that much, really. A suitcase, a duffel bag, and one box with some personal memorabilia in it. Most men who came out of the Navy didn’t even have that much, though, and I knew it was strange to hold on to everything the way I did. I couldn’t decide what to part with. It was a decision better made in the comfort of my home, where I could decide what stuck out and what fit in.
“Jesus, it’s gonna be a shitshow when you leave,” John said. “Who the hell is gonna keep the newbies in line?”
“You,” I said, and raised an eyebrow. I pushed the sleeves up on my shirt and pulled the gate up on the bed of the pickup after yanking the bungee cord over the stuff to ensure it wouldn’t fly out. “That’s supposed to be your job, isn’t it?”
“I guess.” John shook his head and backed up from the truck.
I cast a final look at my stuff. A suitcase, a duffel bag, and one box. Six years in this shit, and I had less to show for it than when I’d gone to summer camp for a week in high school. Part of me was grateful that I got to leave most of what happened behind. The SEALs didn’t make for pleasant memories.
“Where are you headed?” John asked.
I thought about it for a minute. I had a few options, none of them guaranteed to pan out in my favor, but I knew the smartest decision would be to go where most of my old friends were. “Probably Austin.”
“See if you can get any sympathy?” John snorted a laugh. That damn laugh had tormented me in all our time overseas, creeping up like some unexpected pest; it was just a snort, a harsh bark, something I couldn’t escape from but could always hear coming. “Stick around, tell them about the war. They’ll usually throw a meal and some money your way.”
“You know I can’t stand that shit.” I sat up against the side of my truck and took my cap off, wiping the sweat from my brow. “It’s wrong, exploiting ourselves for that kind of bullshit.”
“Ain’t wrong if they’re thankful, if they want to, you know?” John shrugged. “Maybe it’s you who feels awful. You don’t think you deserve a free meal, Sawyer? You did a tour with the SEALs. You’ve earned a fuckin’ cheeseburger.”
I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like that, and he knew it, and I knew it. I wouldn’t turn down free food, but I wouldn’t make a beggar of myself either. “Austin’s just the best bet for me. I don’t really have a plan. Might as well go there.”
“No plan? Most guys are achin’ to get back to a family.”
“You know I never married.” I shoved my cap back onto my head and pushed the bill forward. “Anyway, I should get going. It’s been good serving with you, John.” Even with his snorting laugh, I valued his company and his friendship.
“Well, shit, you sure you don’t want to stick around?” John spat off to the side and sat up a little. “I mean, I know you don’t have any tours coming up, but you could still hang around the barracks.”
I couldn’t be more determined to leave. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew better than to stick around here much longer. The place ate at me. Knowing what I’d done in my time serving, knowing what I hadn’t but should have, it all came to the forefront of my mind here. Going to Austin would be a step in any other direction, and that felt right.
“Nah,” was all I said. “I think I’d do best going back.”
“Shit,” he said. I knew he’d miss having someone to clean up after his shit and take care of the recruits, but couldn’t bring myself to care too much about it. Caring was what got us all into these messes in our tours. “Well, good luck out there.”
I had one more night to spend in these barracks. Technically I could have stayed in an apartment with some of the other SEALs, but I didn’t want to see my comrades when I went to take a shower. I preferred to keep them at a distance. Besides, I liked seeing new recruits come in and not know what the hell to do about a SEAL being in their bunker. They always acted a little scared of me.
In the end, the other SEALs decided to sleep in the barracks, too, so there were a bunch of empty apartments and a bunch of SEALs taking up space where they didn’t belong.
Before I could go back to the barracks, I had one more meeting with my commanding officer. He went by ‘Chief,’ nothing else, and I’d long since forgotten his formal name. I stood outside his office toying with my lighter. I’d stopped smoking cigarettes a while back—the jitteriness that came with them was a luxury I couldn’t afford overseas. In the middle of a dangerous mission, that tiny amount of jitteriness could be the difference between life and death. Still, I liked to fiddle with lighters or shoestring or rubber bands. Busy hands, busy mind.
I could hear Chief bitching at one of the newer guys. It went that way with them; the only way they could earn their keep was by listening to people yell at them nonstop. I remembered my first days of boot camp. I’d been screamed at and screamed at and screamed at until one day I finally screamed back and got hit so hard upside the head that I almost blacked out. Dissent wasn’t an option. We were soldiers, not visionaries. We put up with what they dished out, or we got sent home.
A few people had gotten sent home that first week. Years later, others, in caskets.
Finally, the man walked out of his office. His face looked white, teeth nearly chattering in his skull, and he gave me a nervous stare before sprinting down the hallway. I couldn’t imagine why he’d been yelled at, but it was always something stupid. Boots not shined enough, hair not to standard, a dirty room, even looking at a commanding officer funny, all were criteria for getting screamed at. Sometimes they’d get so close to you that you could feel their breath on your face.
I walked into his office. It was strange that he even had an office, strange to see him sitting down, and stranger that instead of standing up, he remained seated. Usually he liked to look down at people. I snapped to attention, and he nodded at me. “At ease.”
I stood for a second and then sat down. I would miss Chief more than most people here. He was an unassuming man, with mostly lanky limbs and a skinny face; it was easy to think little of him, or at least not think he’d be a force to be reckoned with. But Chief must have known that everyone thought he was a shrimp because he was the single most damning force in the entire Navy. I was more afraid of him than any of the jacked up SEAL captains that breathed down our necks during our beach training.
“We’ll be sad to see you go, Gains,” Chief said. He leaned forward a little, shifting his ass back in his seat. “Not a lot of men have your work ethic.”
“All of the SEALs do,” I replied. That earned me a smile and a little chuckle.
“They have to,” he said. He shook his head. “You know, we could use you up here. Probably could use you to train some of the new recruits.”
“I wouldn’t suit the job,” I said. “Honestly, I think I’d work ‘em too hard. I’m too used to what the SEALs could handle.”
“These men aren’t that,” he agreed. “Still. You don’t have another tour? You’d think they’d want you back.”
I shook my head and adjusted my cap. “No, I don’t think they would. Best they see me off now. Besides, I have things to be doing. A life to get on with.” That was a lie. I had no life—I was the type who joined the military to make something of myself. Now I faced the realization that the military made up all of who I was, and my identity outside of it was faded at best. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew I couldn’t stay here.
Chief rolled his tongue in his mouth, and I suspected he had dip under his lip. We weren’t supposed to do it, but I wasn’t about to rat him out. “You know,” he said, “a lot of you SEALs, you get the wrong idea about things that happen.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You go out, something happens to you, you misconstrue it. Get it all backwards from what actually took place.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I said.
Chief leaned back in his chair, looking at me from over the tops of his glasses. “Uh-huh. Bet you don’t.” He ran a hand over his hair—it was too short to run a hand through it—and swallowed. “I’m saying it isn’t your fault, what happened with James.”
I pulled forward in my chair and started to stand. “I should get back to the barracks,” I managed. I didn’t want to talk about this, and I certainly didn’t want to try and ration through it with a man who I’d only seen screaming at new recruits.
“If you say so,” Chief muttered. He didn’t look angry or suspicious; I half expected him to bitch at me for blowing off his statement, but instead, he shrugged. “It was good serving with you, Gains. You let me know if you ever want to come back.”
I paused before I left. “Thank you,” I said. “But honestly, Chief, I think all I want to do is go back home.”
I walked back through the camp to get to the barracks. Recruits were running left and right with their freshly shaven heads like newly mowed grass. I could tell it had just happened because they stopped and looked at themselves in every reflective surface and had their hands on top of their heads whenever they got the chance. After they’d gotten their heads shaved but before they’d gotten their caps. This was a truly new group.
I remembered it all too well, when this was new. Before this had become my entire world for six years, I’d had one foot back in Austin. Back with my girlfriend, Stacy, and back with what I had left of a family. A job, a life. It had fallen away damn quickly. While I took a shower and got the last few things I owned put in a bag, I thought about whether or not to worry about Stacy.
She wouldn’t be in Austin, anyway. Six years had passed; she’d either be dead from a drug overdose or in some other city. She never could sit still for long.
I lay down in bed and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the other people in the barracks talk over one another, like Boy Scouts on a camp trip unable to shut up and go to bed because of all their excitement. That would wear off soon and give way to exhaustion, relief at the awful mattress on their backs. I closed my eyes.
I wouldn’t need to see Stacy. She wouldn’t be in town. If she was, I wouldn’t run into her. In any case, I prayed to anything that was listening that I could avoid her. I’d survived bombings, I’d survived gunfire, but I didn’t know if I could survive another round with Stacy Black.