"Knees high!" My voice rings off the black stone walls. The young adults jog around the room behind Tobias as I surveyed the lot of them. This group will do well. The newbies look terrified, it's their first day of the training that will last them three months. They round the corner of the room for the tenth time. This will be how they will end their training every day for as long as they still want to be in the military.
As their instructor, I am grading them on their ability to fight, remain calm in distressing situations, and their overall fitness. This grade will determine where they start their career, and it will shape the rest of their lives. Tobias isn't usually here. He is actually the head of city security, he didn't want to work with the army after the rebellion fifteen years ago. The only reason he is here is because I need him to be.
I haven't been actively teaching the newbies for almost three months. The baby might come soon, and Tobias won't let me risk the work. I love him, but sometimes he's infuriating. This will be our second child. This time around he is making me be gentle, especially since it is a girl. He thinks she might not be as tough as I am.
Ten laps later I call time. "Be here ready to work at 8 am sharp tomorrow morning!" I call. I go to my desk and begin stuffing papers into files, and putting those into cabinets. Before I get very far however, a pair of big, sweaty arms have entrapped me. "Ugh! Four!" I screech, but he wont release. He wrestles me around into a playful kiss. I push away, "I can't believe you, I just had a shower!" He can't know that secretly I am relieved to be in his embrace. "What? Can't handle my manly musk, Stiff?" he snarkily replies. "Manly musk my ass. Take a shower." He screws up his face and says "Huh, feisty today."
Once we are clean and in fresh, normal clothes, we head out to the car. Before we go home, we have to pick up our son from daycare. I get in the car and Tobias starts the engine. My phone's buzzing startles me. I rummage through my bag until I find the device displaying Christina's number on the screen. "Hello?" I say. "Tris! Hey! How are you?!" Chris is clearly hyped up about the baby, "Fine, how are you?" I reply, positive of what question is next. "Great, just great. But I really wanted to know about the baby! How is she?" There it is. "The baby is doing well. She's expected for April 14." I can practically taste her excitement over the phone. She's been really protective of the baby since I asked her to be the godmother.
"Perfect! So listen, I've got a problem." Good lord. Everyone comes to me with their problems. Do they realize that I am pregnant and not in the goddamn mood? "I got offered a really great job." she pauses, expectant of a reply. "Um, I don't see what the problem is."she has always loved a change, and she has been with her current job for almost a year. "Well, I kind of like my job right now. I mean, it pays well and I have even made some friends. I'm not sure if I want to leave." she explains. "I still don't get it. If you like where you are, then stay. So you got offered a new one, decline it." it seems simple enough to me. "But this new job pays really well. But, I don't know if I would enjoy it." to me the answer is obvious. "Do what you love, you will be much happier. It's what I did." "Okay, thanks Tris. Talk later." she blandly says, clearly dissatisfied. But to be totally honest I couldn't care less. It's been a long day and the baby has been tumbling around my tummy for hours."Bye." We hang up. "What was that about?" Tobias questions. "Just Chris looking for advice about a job."
When we arrive, I get out of the car and go inside. The room is full of small, rambunctious children. I see my own four-year-old and go to get him. "Mommy!" he greets me, excitement pouring from his squeal. I swoop him into my arms, planting a raspberry on the soft skin of his belly as I go. He bursts into laughter and we make our way to the car.
After dinner, I go tuck him into bed and read him his favorite story about a family of birds. The family was very close, and the mommy and daddy birds always expected their chicks to stay with them forever. However, when the chicks grew up, they decided to leave the nest and live in another tree. Halfway through the book he drifts off into a deep sleep. I creep downstairs and sit with Tobias on the couch. After a bit of reading and chatting, I click of the lights and we sleep.
I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring. The clock says seven. I get dressed quickly in my uniform of black leggings, a tank top, combat boots, and an army green jacket. I run downstairs to find my husband and child already at the table eating cereal. The three of us are going to the training center today, so we have a few of his favorite toys to keep our son entertained.
We load up the car and take ten minutes to get there. We arrive before anyone else, as usual, and we set up for the day. Today we will be working on knife throwing and close range shooting. By the time that everyone else is here, the clock announces the hour. We begin work immediately. They first run a mile, then we convene in the center of the room for a stretch and warm-up.
"Alright!" I announce, "For this we will be in groups. Soldiers one to fifty are with Four, fifty-one to one hundred are with me. We will switch every two hours. Do not be mistaken, one of us will be watching you at all times. If you need help grow a pair and ask one of us for it. Do not be reckless, do not goof around. Now go!"
A few minutes later, a scrawny kid comes up to me. He looks about twelve, although he is at least eighteen. He's around 5 feet tall, and all of his clothes are much too big for him. With an utterly terrified look on his face he asks me how he should hold this massive magnum. "Well,since you have never worked with guns before, I suggest that you start out with something a bit smaller." I reply. We head over to the artillery room to pick out something new.
After deciding on a considerably smaller gun, I take him to a target. Once I show him the correct placement and stance for this particular gun, I have him practice holding it before he actually shoots it. When I am relatively satisfied with his comprehension and ability to hold the gun, I tell him to try and shoot it. He asks me to show him first."Umm... I'll go see if Four can do that for you. I can't since I'm uhm pregnant and that is reckless." I hastily answer, dancing around the subject. I call Tobias over and explain to him what he newbie- or Tom as I will learn- needs.
I am walking over to my desk when I hear a little peep come from where my son is playing with some toy trucks. "Mommy?" he asks meekly, "Why don't you ever shoot the guns?" I falter, "I'll tell you when you're older, Will."
