fg – a random flashback.

to show how things were

July 18, 2002

Stan,

I miss Pop-N-Pizza's greasy calzones. I miss subpar service and ice cold plastic booths. Besides that, things are fine here. It's been a quiet week (meaning there haven't been too many attacks) and we've actually been doing some aide work. The sort of thing I had wanted to do in the first place. It's not exactly well received everywhere. I've gotten my fair share of the finger, Iraqi style, but it's hard to take offense to something that means nothing in your home country.

Anyway, not much has changed. We'll be stationed here for a little bit longer before we move out and someone else moves in. Write back. I miss looking at your shit hand writing.

Kyle

Birds of Paradise

.This Sudden Injury.

When you've known someone for eighteen years, grown up with them, learned with them…you start to think you know that person pretty well. Especially if that person is your best friend. Not to say that the friendship has become dull, but there is little Kyle could do that would surprise me. I just know him too well. And personally I always took pride in that. I took pride in knowing everything there was to know about my best friend since he certainly knew everything about me.

Yet, sitting here together, at Shakey's (a usual thing for us on Thursdays) I know there's something he hasn't told me. I can tell. I know him so well I know when he's hiding something from me. He's been ripping his napkin to shreds absentmindedly, creating a little paper pile while staring to the side of me.

We've been making small talk and he's been giving me those half fake laughs that always fall short. The whole thing was damn amusing at first; I haven't seen Kyle ruffled in ages. He's gotten better at controlling his emotions, but even now he's starting to worry me.

Just as he starts to reach for a fresh napkin I clamp my right hand over his, startling him to look up at me.

"Dude," I say as I release his hand.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck tiredly. "Do you remember that night a few months back when we were sitting on top of your rooftop? The night our parents all went out of town for that convention?" He asks.

"…Yeah," I respond, already wondering what that has to do with anything.

"Remember our conversation?"

"Um," I take a second to think back on that night. We'd been drinking a bit, but we were far from drunk. Either way I don't feel like our conversation was anything unusual from what we normally talk about. "No," I admit.

"We were talking about our lives as if our parents didn't have so much say. Remember I jokingly said I'd become a pro basketball player and forget taking over my dad's law firm."

"Oh yeah," I say. It's all starting to come back to me. "And I said I'd join a rock band," I chuckle at the mere thought.

"Right. Well…that's my plan."

I stare at him, my chuckle dying as soon as it came. "You're gonna become a pro basketball player?"

"Of course not. I'm going to forget taking over my dad's firm."

"Oh," I shrug. "No big deal. I didn't see you doing the law thing anyway. I pegged you as more of a politician." At this Kyle shakes his head. "Doctor?" I question, and again his head slides back and forth in a 'no.' "Um, engineer?"

"No."

"Business exec?"

"I'm joining the military."

"…"

"The Army to be exact."

A couple of things run through my head, but what verbally comes out is a snort. "Yeah right."

"I am."

"Kyle, you're the palest, skinniest, most awkward guy I know. You've been born and bred to do something high class that uses that brain of yours. Just two weeks ago you were showing me your acceptance letter to Brown and now you're telling me you're joining the military and you expect me to believe it? Come on, what's really going on with you?"

"I can't believe Kenny was right, he said you wouldn't believe me," he mutters.

"Whoa wait…Kenny knows? Before me?"

"I thought you didn't believe me."

"Well yeah, but that was before you said Kenny knew before me. If you say he said I wouldn't believe you, you must be telling the truth!"

Kyle gives me a pained expression before looking away, "anyway," he pushes on. "I'm joining with him."

The news of Kenny enlisting is no surprise to me. He told everyone awhile back, right in the beginning of senior year. It made sense though for him. He could never hope to get into college, he simply didn't have the money, and he definitely didn't have the grades to carry him. He was average in every subject except Phys Ed. But Kenny also never wanted to get a job right after high school.

He always said his own father was a prequel of his future if he went that path. With no college, no work after high school, the military was the only option. I can see him in that path though; the poor kid joining the Army, wearing the uniform and being deployed overseas. That sounded like a life I've always envisioned for Kenny. But just Kenny, not Kyle. Kyle is different. He's supposed to be different. That lucky kid who had the brains and didn't really need the scholarships but would get them anyway. The one you could potentially roll your eyes out while muttering a, 'lucky bastard.' But you wouldn't, because he was Kyle.

"Why?" I finally ask, because I can't honestly think of a good reason.

"Because," he says looking back at me seriously. "Because I got tired of being another person who would rant. Another person who bitched about the war, who said 'those poor civilians', but had no idea what the fuck I was talking about. I'm tired of hoping for the best in a country where a percentage of Americans don't even know its location. I want to help Stan. I've gotta do something!"

"So send a donation for Christs' sake! Join the Red Cross! The Peace Corp! Why the military? You'll just be part of the fighting!"

"I know, but this is the best way to get in contact with the people! I can help stop the suicide bombers, keep civilians out of a fight meant for our governments and militaries alone!"

"You don't even speak Iraqian!"

Kyle gives me a weak smile, "that's not even a word. They speak Arabic and Kurdish mostly, some Turkoman, Assyrian, and Armenian being spoken in areas."

"…see? The fact that you know that proves that your brain is meant to be in college, not getting high from inhaling man sweat."

"Stan I'm not asking you for your permission. I'm just telling you, this is how it is now. This is what I'm going to do and no one's going to talk me out of it."

"Just when did you make this decision anyway?" I demand.

Kyle's rubbing the side of his head, a clear sign he's getting annoyed with me, but I frankly don't give a shit right now.

"When Kenny started talking about it. That's when it got me thinking."

"When Ken – Kenny started talking about it in SEPTEMBER Kyle! It's MAY! It's the end of May! You've been thinking about this for that long and you never once thought to ask me for my opinion? I thought I was your best goddamn friend!"

"You are!" He seethes out. "But you're also one stubborn opinionated asshole who would have made me change my mind!"

"You're damn right I would have!" I say with a fierce nod.

"And that's exactly what I wouldn't have wanted! Look," Kyle sighs and takes a deep breath. "I'm tired of being a verbal activist. I don't want to be one of those people who just bitch and moan, but do shit to help the problem. I want to do something and this is how I'm going to do it. You should know me Stan. You know this isn't a sudden decision on my part. You know I've completely thought this through."

He has me there, but that doesn't make it easier to accept.

"…You'll be entering the middle of a war," I point out.

"It's not Vietnam."

"People are still dying over there."

"And yet I still have a higher chance of dying by crossing the street."

"Don't make it sound like it's some ordinary fact of life. You could die."

"It's unlikely."

"And if you do? Because I would know the second you did. I'd feel it."

Kyle leans back in his chair and tilts his head slightly as he looks at me, crossing his arms as he does so. What I just said may sound ridiculous but I have no doubt in my mind that I would know if something happened to Kyle. We're linked like that, it's our bond of eighteen years of friendship in the works and he knows this as well.

"Then you should be aware that I died doing something I felt passionately about. But why talk like that? I'm not gonna die, so drop it."

I can't help but to slam my body against my own chair in aggravation as I stare down my best friend.

"Someone else can take care of the Iraqi civilians," I can't help but to add.

"And who is this someone else?" He questions back.

Grunting obscenities to myself I try to look at this from another angle…but fail miserably. No matter what angle I look at it all boils down to not wanting the person that means the most to me in the world to get thrown into one of the most unstable areas in the world.

"So when are you leaving?" I ask. "A couple months? A few?" Kyle suddenly tenses and I'm instantly alert. "When are you leaving Kyle?" I demand.

"Couple of weeks," he mutters.

"A…couple of weeks?" I whisper back in disbelief.

"Ten days," he corrects and I feel like he's just punched me.

Ten days? TEN DAYS?

"But I – you only just said…I thought you said you were joining?"

"…By joining I mean I've joined…I signed up a couple months ago."

I feel like I'm starting to hyperventilate. Just this morning when Kyle called me to reaffirm that he'd meet me at Shakey's I'd been thinking we should go on a camping trip in a few weeks. Him, me, Kenny, and some of the other guys. A celebration of sorts for graduating, and all this time Kyle knew he'd be long gone.

"How could – how could you not tell me? I just don't get that. How could you keep this from me for so long? I mean…if you're leaving in ten days I'm assuming your parents must already know."

Kyle's nodding and doing everything he can not to meet my gaze.

"Kyle!" I almost yell out angrily. "Am I the last to know?"

"I didn't mean to take so long to tell you," he whispers slowly. "I didn't know how to tell you."

"But it was easy enough to tell everyone else? Jesus Christ, does Cartman know?"

He nods meekly and I release a groan as I close my eyes. I need to get a hold of myself. I can feel that I'm starting to shake. Not with just anger, but surprise and frustration. I feel more like I'm dreaming. Because in the real world Kyle wouldn't be joining the Army, he wouldn't be leaving in ten days, and I would have been the first person he told if he was. Not the last.

"Kenny'll be gone in a month though," I hear him say, but I don't respond. It's not that I don't care when Kenny leaves, but I had already been expecting it. I was just waiting for him to tell me a date. "Did he ever tell you which branch he was going for?" Kyle continues and I still say nothing.

I can hear the hesitance in Kyle's voice as he continues talking. He's trying to let me get used to the idea of what's going on, while giving me information at the same time. "The Air Force," he says. "He'll be doing drop offs, and aid work…and with his vision-"

"Right," I cut him off. Kenny's always had hawk eyesight. We used to joke around that it was because he was always watching his back for Death.

"Stan, I'm sorry."

"Never mind," I open my eyes and study his solemn face. Standing up I fight the urge to run a hand through my hair. Kyle knows I do that when I'm about to throw in the towel with whatever situation I've been placed in. "I'd better get home. I've got shit to do."

"Oh," Kyle stands up abruptly. "I thought we could-"

"You thought we could what?" I turn to glare at him. "Spend your last few days here skipping down memory lane? I already have shit planned for the next week. Had I known you'd be leaving I might have arranged things otherwise."

He visibly winces and I ignore the part of me that wants to just let it go and forgive him. A larger part of me is too hurt to let him off the hook so easily, even if he is leaving soon.

"I gotta go," I push, already heading toward the front door of the restaurant.

"Yeah…I'll get the bill," I hear him say.

By the time I reach the parking lot I can see Kenny hovering around Kyle's car. When he meets my eye he lifts his eyebrow.

"So?" he calls out. I stop before him to stare at him.

"So, what?" I question back. "What are you doing here?"

He suddenly looks confused and a little uncomfortable. "Kyle…hasn't talked to you?"

"Oh, he's talked to me," I snort. "About you and him keeping me in the dark, about you guys joining the Army?"

"I'm Air Force, he'll be Army," Kenny corrects, but I don't care.

"He told me."

"Good," he nods firmly. "So are we gonna get going?"

"Get going where?"

"To Starks Pond? Kyle told me to meet you guys here after you two had a chance to talk. Said we could all go hang out like old times before he has to take off?"

"Of all of the-" I swear loudly, but it's cut off at the sound of Kyle's breathless voice.

"Stan!"

"I'm out," I mutter to Kenny, and weave my way to my car.

"What the hell is going on…?" I hear Kenny say to himself, all while Kyle continues to call out my name.

"Fuck, Stan, wait!" Is the last thing I hear Kyle say before I hop in my car and slam the door shut.

As I pull out of the lot I can see Kyle and Kenny talking a mile a minute. Kenny looks confused still, and Kyle's gesturing wildly in aggravation. Serves him right.

It serves him right.

He should be aggravated and frustrated because that's exactly how I feel. Come tomorrow I'll be pissed off as hell at myself for storming away like this, but right now I could care less. I've never been so mad! And upset, and depressed, and shocked. I want to punch something, or someone. So it's better that I'm leaving. It's a lot better that I'm driving off to do my own thing for awhile.

I need to think about what Kyle told me. I need to have some time to absorb the shock of having being left in the dark.