It's My Life
By Kat Fenn
The story of Stringfellow Hawke after Vietnam and getting involved with the Firm and Airwolf.
Prologue: Flashes of Yesterday
Stringfellow Hawke had never felt more alone. Knots of chattering high school students pushed past him as he stood in front of his locker. The cardboard box that lay at his feet was full of his possessions, and his locker was nearly empty. All that remained was a photograph of himself and Kelly, his girlfriend, and a few old exercise books. He picked up the exercise books and unceremoniously dumped them in the box. His expression softened as he plucked the photograph from the inside of the locker door. Brushing the face of her image with the tip of his forefinger, he allowed himself a smile as he carefully put the photograph on top of the exercise books and closed the flaps of the box. A feeling of melancholy settled over him as he realised that, come tomorrow, he would no longer be a high school student. He would be turning 18 in two weeks, and he had already decided that the day he turned 18 would be the day he would sign up to join his brother, St John, in Vietnam. His older brother had left for Vietnam the day he had turned 18, and that had been two long, long years ago. Shouldering his box, String shut his now-empty locker with his right elbow. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and walked out into the warm sunshine.
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
Dom was worried about String. He had entered the hangar with a mumbled acknowledgement, "Dom," about two hours ago. Since then he had said nothing, going straight to his locker and pulling on a pair of overalls and coming straight back to the workbench where he was, to all intents and purposes, focussed on his task of untangling the nut from the spindle assembly propeller of the Cessna that Dom was working on. Deciding that two hours was long enough for String to brood, Dom took a deep breath.
"What's eating you, String?" he asked gently.
"Nothing, Dom."
"Listen, String, I know you well enough to know that keeping your trap shut for hours on end isn't like you at all. Come on, let's grab a sandwich. I'm starving!"
String allowed himself be led off. On the one hand, he was grateful that Dom cared about him – but on the other hand he really didn't feel like talking about it. He just couldn't put into words how he felt with St John gone, fighting a war in a faraway land. He had a dream the night before of the last time he had seen his parents – and relived every last second of the horrific accident that had resulted in Dom taking responsibility for the two scared teenage boys. He had awakened in a cold sweat, tears in his ice blue eyes and an ache in his heart. Plus the fact that he would be leaving Kelly behind in two weeks. He would be off to boot camp once he had signed up, he was sure – then he would be half a world away. So once again, he would be alone.
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
String held Kelly in his arms. He had picked her up, and driven her, in the Santini Air jeep, to the beach, where he had told her of his plans to join up to fight. She had taken one look at the determination in his young face and hugged him tightly. String could feel her hot tears drip onto his shirt as she struggled with her emotions.
"Hey," String pulled away from her slightly and tried to look into her eyes. "It's not forever, you know. I'll be back before you know it."
Kelly lifted her head to look into his eyes. "And what if you don't make it back, String? This is a real war, where they use real bullets." She knew this day was coming, it was something they had talked about a lot when St John had left two years ago. And she knew, full well, that there was nothing she could do or say to stop him.
String's answer was to hug her more tightly to him.
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
String opened his eyes. The day had finally come. June 8th, 1968 – the day he turned 18. Today was the day he was going to walk into a US Army Recruiting Office and join up. Maybe this feeling, this gnawing away at his heart and insides, would go away once he was with St John. Much as he loved Dom and thought of him as a father, he still wasn't quite, well, family.
Throwing himself out of bed, String washed and dressed quickly, hoping to catch Dom before he left the tiny apartment that they shared – he felt that he needed, today of all days, a big bear hug from Dom and a whispered assurance that all would be well.
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
Dom felt tears prick the back of his eyes as he embraced his foster son. "God in Heaven, please keep my boy safe." He knew that String looked up to him and loved him, but there was nothing Dom could do or say to keep him from joining up. All he could say, past the lump in his throat, was "Ask them if they can post you to the same unit as St John, son. At least then I know my boys are together."
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
Kelly sat back in the passenger seat of the Jeep. She had been dreading this day for the past two weeks. String would be leaving for boot camp tomorrow – and she might never see him again. She wanted him to know how she felt about him, but the words just would not come. She felt him clasp her hand and pull her gently out of the passenger seat. He still had not said one word since he picked her up earlier on that evening, but she could feel, in every caress and unsaid word, the depth of his feeling for her.
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
String sat, his head in his hands. He felt numb. The bright lights of the emergency room, and the constant buzz of activity made his head ache. It had all been like a dream. The last thing he remembered was shutting the passenger door on Kelly, smiling as he gently brushed the fine beach sand from her lap. He remembered getting into the Jeep, and arranging himself carefully in the driver's seat as the combination of wet stickiness and beach sand acted like sandpaper in his most intimate places. And then…blackness. Waking up, feeling sticky blood on his face and looking over in the passenger seat to see Kelly, eyes wide open, staring into nothing. No trace of blood on her beautiful face but her pretty green dress, which he had brushed down what seemed to be minutes before, now the colour of dark wine. Him being lifted into an ambulance, next to Kelly, and trying to hold her limp hand in his.
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
String found himself in yet another hospital bed. Rough blankets with no sheets covered his body and scraped against the bandages which were wrapped around his right shoulder and arm. His vision moved in and out of focus as his head throbbed. Realisation hit him. "Nurse?" he croaked, in a voice he barely recognised as his own.
He tried his best to find out what had happened to St John – he remembered being ordered to leave his brother behind, on the ground. Trying to get the men clinging onto the ropes and in the cargo bay back to the base as quickly as he could so that he could go back for his brother. And then a blinding pain in his shoulder as the overladen Huey crossed over a knot of deeply entrenched VCs. Gritting his teeth as he fought being overcome by darkness. Then…blackness. Waking up to find that he had been comatose with the wounds in his shoulder and back for weeks – and no St John. The realisation that he had left his brother in enemy territory to be killed or worse, captured.
AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW
"Dom, I need your help. I'm going to move into the cabin."
"String, you've only been back a week. Hell, you haven't even been discharged from the Army, yet. Stay with me for a while – the apartment was so quiet without you." Dom didn't think that String was in any state to live by himself, just yet. His shoulder was still strapped up and his arm in a sling, and Dom had seen for himself the devastation caused by the mortar shrapnel to the muscles of String's back.
"I….I just wanna be by myself for a while, Dom. And I think the cabin's the best place."
Dom wondered if there was any way he was going to change his foster son's mind, especially when he got that determined glint in his eye. "Perhaps he needs a dog or something to keep him company...something that doesn't mind him not talking."