This chapter contains some graphic language and depictions of violence. As always I do not own any rights to The Bridge to Terabithia.
Chapter 7
Jess pulled his car into the parking lot of Lark Creek Elementary. Though he had been through the parking lot more times than he could remember at night it seemed unusual. It was poorly lit and judging by the amount of pot holes in desperate need of repair.
"Leslie, do you really think Kyle would come here? Why would he want to come back to grade school? He didn't care for school any more than I did."
"For the same reason you and I went back to Terabithia today" Leslie answered. "Come on let's go." Leslie was out of the car as soon as Jess parked. He had to run just to catch up with her. The playground was an open field with a makeshift basketball court and the standard staples all playgrounds have. The trees rested mostly along the fence line surrounding the area. Leslie seemed to know where she was going even in the dark. Her paced slowed until she stopped and Jess sensed she was waiting for him. Standing beside her he reached for her hand and grasped it. There was no hesitation, no fear. They looked at each other for a moment.
"It's been a long time since we were on this playground" Jess said nostalgically.
"Yeah, it's where it all began, where we began" Leslie added. "Do you remember that old bench that sat at the far end of the playground? The one the teachers always sat on when we had recess?" Jess couldn't forget the image of two worn and weary teachers trying to find peace amid a mob of children. It always reminded him of his parents. When he was young and running wild with his sisters, or as wild as he let himself be, he could remember seeing his parents seeking the same refuge.
"Yeah, I remember it. It's just over there near the end of the fence. Under that tree where the old swings used to be" he said pointing.
"That's where Kyle is, on that bench." Leslie started walking and Jess followed. As they walked they came across a coat lying on the ground. Jess reached down and picked it up.
"It's his coat" Jess said with a sense of dread. They picked up their pace and soon came across a crumpled up shirt. Leslie grabbed it and instantly recognized it as the plaid shirt Kyle was wearing earlier at Murphy's. Tucked into the shirt pocket she found a set of dog tags.
"Jesus Leslie…"
"He's okay Jess" she responded quickly. They walked slowly into the darkness until the outline of the tree merged into the real thing and a bench with a lone occupant appeared. Jess and Leslie stopped as their eyes adjusted. Sitting before them was their friend. Kyle was staring off into the distance. His eyes were stained red, tears dried to his face. Besides his jeans and tennis shoes the only other garment he wore was a long sleeve thermal. Given the frigid temperature they were sure Kyle must be freezing. Yet, he seemed calm. He wasn't shivering, just staring into the darkness while methodically rolling something between his fingers. It looked as though he had done it a thousand times. Leslie doubted he was even aware of it.
"Kyle?" she said softly. She wanted to move closer to him but Jess held her back. He was only protecting her but Leslie felt it was unnecessary. "Kyle" she repeated. The young Marine looked up and a brief smile escaped his lips. His eyes focused and softened and he stopped rolling the object in his hand.
"I thought it might be you two when I saw the car pull into the parking lot" he said looking at the grasped hands of his two friends. "I'm glad I was right."
"Kyle, you've got to put your coat on" Leslie said taking the coat from Jess. She sat down on the bench next to him and motioned for Jess to sit on his other side. "Please Kyle, put on your coat."
"This feels great actually" he said looking into the sky. "It's so…cleansing. That crispness in the air, it's so purifying. I feel like I can finally breathe again. It's…home." Kyle took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know over there it would be a hundred and twenty degrees in the shade. And there we are carrying a full combat load, body armor, weapon and Kevlar sweating our asses off. It was so damn dirty too. I swear you never felt clean you know? I mean sand was everywhere and in everything. Damn sandstorms were so bad you couldn't see your hand in front of your face." Leslie reached for his hand and felt the object he had been rolling in his fingers.
"Kyle what is that?" she asked.
"This" he said opening his hand. He seemed unaware that it was even there. "It's the eagle, globe and anchor." It was small, black and barely visible. He gave it to Leslie. "That's the Marine Corps emblem." Leslie took a closer look. She recognized the familiar symbol. On day trips to San Diego the emblem was everywhere. From stickers on the back of cars and pick-up trucks to flags flying in front yards San Diego was a Marine Corps town. Of course in high school Kyle wore Marine Corps T-shirts so often she never paid much attention. "That's the one they gave me when I made it. When I could call myself a Marine."
"I remember you telling me about that" Jess said looking at his friend. "You got it after finishing the crucible."
"Yeah, that's right," Kyle replied as he looked to the ground. "You know what's funny?"
"What's that?"
"I barely made it." Kyle said looking at his friend. "After all those years in high school going on and on about the Marines, reading all those books on Marine Corps history, after all the training I did to get ready, I barely made it."
"Barely made it?" Leslie asked.
"I barely made it through boot camp. I was a total screw up. I was convinced they were going to send me home. My drill instructor kept saying that in order to preserve the integrity of the Corps he was going to have me discharged for failure to adapt to military life."
"Kyle, doesn't everybody struggle? I mean it's supposed to be tough right?" Leslie asked.
"You don't get it Les" Kyle answered. "Remember the story you and Jess told me about Michael McNeil back in high school? You know, the dorky kid that tried out for the cross country team?" Jess and Leslie both looked at one another. They remembered. Michael McNeil was perhaps the most non-athletically inclined student in Lark Creek High school; the least athletic of any student trying out for a sport anyway. He was tall and lanky, wore glasses that were too big for his face and forever falling down his nose and possessed absolutely no coordination. "You said he was like a baby giraffe just out of the womb when he was running. Your coach would be yelling 'damn McNeil how can you turn a basic, fundamental human action into a disaster." Jess suddenly felt guilty for ever telling that story. By the look in Leslie's eyes she felt the same. "I was Michael McNeil in boot camp."
"Kyle, McNeil was just out of his element. He didn't have the…the natural ability you need for the sport. Not everybody can do it."
"Exactly Jess, exactly" Kyle said his eyes lighting up. "That's me. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how badly I wanted it I just didn't have it. I didn't fit. I remember one of the guys in my platoon said to me once, 'you know Travis you put more effort into this crap than anyone and you're still screwed.' He was right and that reality kicks in fast believe me. I tried so hard to do everything right but I just kept messing up. Boot camp was like a slap in the face and combat was a kick to the balls with a steel toed boot." Kyle looked at Jess then over to Leslie, "I hate it. I don't belong in the Marines. I never should have joined" Kyle's voice almost broke as he said it. He was using all his might to hold back the tears Leslie knew wanted to come out. "You…you guys don't know what I've done. If you knew you wouldn't be here right now."
"Kyle, that's not true…"
"Everybody has been treating me like some kind of hero since I got back to the states," Kyle interrupted. "In the airports people stop and shake my hand, buy me coffee, thanking me for my service. One rather attractive woman even gave me a kiss. It was on the cheek but hey." A smile momentarily crossed his face. "They're complete strangers. They don't know me they don't know what I've done. They sure as hell don't know what's going on over there. They just see the uniform and figure I must be a good American, serving my country, doing my duty. Truth is I'm a fraud."
During their senior year Leslie asked Jess what he thought Kyle would do if he didn't make it through boot camp. Jess thought the question insulting towards their friend. Of course he would make it. Kyle was meant to be a Marine. He was the one person they knew that possessed a definitive handle on his future. Leslie, however, harbored some doubts. She never questioned Kyle's conviction. He was the personification of determination; by no means was he weak. However, in his nature she saw something else, something not suited for military service. She had nothing to base her feeling on. It wasn't as though she knew much about the military or even knew someone that served. Of course she never mentioned her concerns to Kyle and eventually dismissed the thoughts as a case of over worrying. After all there was a war being fought and joining the Marines was a guaranteed trip to the front. Now, however, it seemed she may have been right.
"Kyle, I'm not trying to be a smart ass or anything but I saw what you did to Scott tonight" Jess said as he helped Leslie wrap Kyle's coat around him. "You looked like a Marine to me." Jess was hesitant to mention the fight but felt it needed to be brought up.
"I knew he was going to do something" Kyle said as he finished putting on his coat. "He was drunk, off balance. I was already thinking of what I could do, when he grabbed me I just reacted. The Marines have their own martial arts program and in the infantry we got plenty of practice. It seemed kind of cool when I was learning it but I didn't know if I would ever be able to really make it work."
"It worked" Jess said still with a sense of disbelief.
"That's how it all works, everything they teach you, from learning to make a bunk, marching, how to shoot, you drill it thousands of times. To be honest sometimes it's a very monotonous life…punctuated with intense violence."
Leslie knew Kyle was dwelling on something. She was sure he wanted to let it out but didn't feel comfortable pressing him. Did she even have a right too? It was obvious Kyle had been through a traumatic experience; not just combat but his overall experience in the Marine Corps. Neither she nor Jess was qualified to treat somebody with post-traumatic stress disorder. However, they were his friends. They cared about him and he was reaching out to them. If Kyle trusted them then they had to help.
"Kyle, you're not a fraud." Leslie said cautiously. "I know about Scott Brady trying to enlist." Jess looked up at Leslie. He remembered Kyle yelling about that in the bar but he had no idea what he was referring to.
"Scott tried to enlist in the Marines?" he asked puzzled.
"Yeah, believe it or not," Kyle said as he stood up. "Right after I graduated boot camp I got to come home for Christmas. I called up my recruited to tell him I made it and he asked if I knew a guy named Scott Brady." Jess again found this confusing. From what he remembered Scott was riding a wrestling scholarship to a state school.
"Wait a minute," Jess interrupted. "I thought Scott went to college."
"He failed his drug test when he took the physical to join the wrestling team. They gave him a second chance and the idiot failed again. He lost the scholarship and apparently decided enlisting was a good career move. Guess what happened?"
"He failed the drug test?" Jess answered.
"Scott's a moron. I honestly thought he was smarter than that."
"You see Kyle you're not a fraud. Scott is a fraud. You did what you said you were going to do. Despite the difficulty you did it. You're a good person Kyle Travis." Leslie added.
"No, Leslie I'm not" Kyle shot back. "Scott Brady may be a bastard but he never killed anybody." It was the question nobody wanted to ask but everyone was curious about. Kyle was a Marine, a rifleman. He was in combat. It was a morbid curiosity and one both Jess and Leslie were ashamed to admit they wondered about.
"Kyle, its war, people die. You're a Marine…"
"Yeah, people die." Kyle said as he sat back down on the bench between his two friends. "Some die horribly. They're blown all to hell and screaming. Others are dead before they hit the ground. Combat is just chaos. I swear most of the time we were just shooting, returning fire at something. Rounds are flying everywhere. You gotta wonder how many people got caught in the crossfire." Kyle again looked to the ground. He took a few deep breaths then looked at Leslie. "I was scared shitless every time we went looking for the bad guys. I mean, yeah, I was scared of dying. My biggest fear though was letting my buddies down. I didn't want to screw up and get somebody killed." Kyle was shaking his head and again Leslie could see he was fighting the tears. "This one time in the middle of a firefight my buddy and I were huddled up behind this wall trying our best not to get shot. I look up over the wall and I see someone dart out of a building and he's carrying a rifle. I immediately got him in my sights, squeezed my trigger and dropped him. Just like that. I didn't think twice about killing him. I was a terrible shot in boot camp and that was just shooting paper targets. I'm not that good with weapons I was always a little scared on the rifle range. Yet, I kill a man as easy as if I was tying my shoes." Kyle paused for a second; for a moment Leslie thought he was going to shut down and stop talking but he didn't. "Seconds later my buddy pops back up to take a look and gets shot through the neck. He crumpled to the ground, there's blood everywhere, it's all over me and he's lying there, half his neck blown away and he's not dead. He's looking at me like what the hell just happened. He couldn't scream it was just this horrible gurgling sound. I didn't know what to do. I was so scared I couldn't move. I didn't hesitate to kill a guy but my friend gets shot and I watch him die. I fucking just watched him die! Why didn't I at least try and save him? What the hell kind of person am I?" Kyle's head collapsed into his hands as he sobbed uncontrollably. Leslie instinctively cradled him in her arms.
The reality of Kyle's world was now out in the open. Jess and Leslie were confronted with the horrors that he lived. While they pursued a college education and fretted about exams, early classes and boring professors Kyle was half a world away living with death. The sights, sounds and smells of combat were seared into his brain. Not even coming home allowed him to escape. The war was with him everywhere he went. The thought of their friend, the nicest, most laid back person they knew thrust into a world of such violence was disturbing. To hear in his own words what he had seen and done brought the war to their lives; before that it was just images on television, an article in the newspaper. Now, Jess and Leslie had a personal connection to the war. They could see the physical and mental toll it was taking on their friend.
Leslie looked at Jess as she held Kyle. He reached for her hand and grasped it. The three friends huddled together against the cold, sitting in silence. Jess thought it ironic that they were on the playground of their old elementary school. It was a place that represented their innocence, their lives before growing up, before the responsibilities of adulthood. Perhaps that's why Kyle came back. It was the only place he could think of that held a connection to a time and place he felt safe. He returned to his Terabithia.
