Chapter 29 - Like I'd Never Left

Not much had changed really. The roof had finally caved in on the old Jorgenson place, but that was about it. I don't know what I expected, but everything was just about the same as it was a year ago. When you think about it, a year really ain't that long. As I walked around, I didn't see much evidence there was even a war going on, just the occasional poster or memorial. Vietnam seemed like another time, another place. Maybe I'd dreamed the whole thing.

After wandering around for a while, I headed down toward the DX. It still wouldn't be open yet, but I knew Steve would be there. Most mornings he'd be there tinkering with his own car before the shop opened. Hell, sometimes he'd even stay overnight and sleep in the thing if his dad was in a mood. As I got closer to the shop, I could see, or hear rather, that I was right. The door was about halfway open and I could hear Mr. Johnny Cash singin' away. Most of us didn't go in too much for country music; that was one of Steve's odd things. Country music ain't all bad though, and livin' in Oklahoma, it's pretty hard to avoid.

I snuck in silently and ducked under the garage door. Just inside, the wrench set was hangin' in the same place where it had for probably the last 20 years, so I grabbed a handful and started to creep toward the pair of legs sticking out from underneath the Olds. I got a few steps away, and just as I was getting ready to let the wrenches loose and scare the Devil out of Steve, a voice drawled from under the chassis.

"Curtis, if you even think of droppin' them wrenches, you'll wish you were back in Vietnam. Them Gooks will look like fine mannered old ladies next to me and the whippin' I'll give you."

All I could do was smile and shake my head. Sneak up on some VC, easy. Sneak up on my best friend, apparently not so much so.

"Aww, Steve, you ain't no fun."

The rest of my buddy came sliding out from under the car.

"Too bad, so sad, Sodapop. It's too early for all that racket you'd make with them wrenches. Didn't want to hear it."

Gesturing toward the radio, I retorted with, "And it ain't too early for that racket? What gives? Can't you turn on some rock 'n roll or something?"

"Hey, Wiseass, my garage, my radio. When you come back to work, then maybe we'll talk about goin' halfsies."

"Alright, alright," I conceded. "So how is the old gal anyway?"

Steve pulled himself up and started wiping his hands on a shop towel. "She's okay, just tryin' to keep her runnin' sweet."

"Tune up?" I asked.

"Yep, just that and an oil change."

That old car was Steve's pride and joy. It was a '48 Oldsmobile Convertible he'd gotten for a song. It was basically just a shell when he'd gotten it at 15 and he'd fixed it up along the way. Some parts of her were bought outright and legal with good, honest money. Others were well… others were acquired through more creative means. She was old, but Steve did good by her and she'd turned into a beauty; a real Lady.

"You do anything new with her since I've been gone?" I asked leaning against the tool bench. Steve came over to join me.

"Not much to do anymore. She's pretty much perfect. I did have to do some work on the passenger side fender. Jack Olson decided to be a bastard and key her."

"You give him a reason?" I asked though I already knew the answer.

"Maybe," Steve replied with a lazy grin while he lit up a cigarette and passed the pack to me. We just sat there blowing smoke for awhile and Steve regaled me with the story of how he'd pissed off Jack. This I could handle. That's what I like about Steve; he wasn't the type of guy to look over your shoulder. If he could fix a car, seduce a girl, or pick a fight, he was happy and he'd be more than happy to let you do your own thing if you didn't get in his way. Here in this garage with Steve, it felt like I'd never left. That is until I went to move a box of parts out of my way and decided to use my bum arm. Pretty sure the Queen of England could hear the string of curses I let fly. Hope she wasn't too offended. Steve took care of the box and looked me over.

"Damn, Soda, they really did get you good, didn't they?"

"Yep," was all I could hiss in agreement.

He just shook his head, shrugged, and got busy wiping down the car. "You really can't tell it too much. You play it off real well. I like the new phrases you've added to your collection though. They teach you those in Basic? Advanced Cussin' for the New G.I.?"

"Now that's a class I could pass with flyin' colors," I shot back, "Naw, when you stick a few dozen guys together, get them real bored, and then start shootin' at 'em, some real interesting things start coming out of their mouths. You just sorta pick 'em up."

"Obviously," he smiled with his weed still in his teeth and he threw another towel at me, "Make yourself at least a little useful, will ya?"

Just like I'd never left.

Later that day, after bummin' around the garage watching Steve work, he flipped me his wallet. I just stared at him.

"Go grab us some lunch, you lazy ass. I'm buying."

"Whatdya want?"

"Surprise me. You're the one survived on Army rations for the past year."

"Sounds good to me. I could go in for a good burger and a Coke."

There was this little diner about a half block down from the DX. Run by this sweet old couple. I'd put their burgers up against any in the Midwest. Hell, maybe even the whole country. I pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of the familiar tinkling bell they'd hung over it to let 'em know they had customers. I'd missed that sound and didn't even know it. A quick glance at the counter and my smile got a whole lot bigger. Bonnie Dewit. Sweet, sweet Bonnie. With a body to kill and a brain to match, she was too good for me, but she had let me take her out a couple times and she was always good for a little good natured flirting. I strolled up like I owned the place and leaned on the counter in front of her.

"What's shakin', Darlin'?" and I flashed her my brightest, goofiest smile.

"Hi, Soda," she responded flatly. No smile, no friendliness, nothing.

"Whoa, Bonnie, what happened? You get stuck in the diner freezer while I was gone and ain't thawed out yet?"

"What do you want to order, Soda?"

It couldn't get much colder in here if the diner had magically been transported to Antarctica. She was all business. I checked her hand for a ring to see if she was freezing me out so she didn't make her guy mad, but it was empty.

"What's your hurry, Darlin'? It's not like there's a line behind me."

"Just order, will you, Curtis?"

"What the hell did I do, Bonnie? I ain't been back 24 hours and you're already pissed at me?"

"Exactly, you've been gone. And where have you been, Soda? You might want to wash your hands; they're looking a bit red. A bit bloody. Order or get out."

She was staring straight at me. There was no friendliness or good humor in that face, and it was completely unlike the Bonnie I remembered.

"Just two burgers, fries, and Cokes," I managed to get out. I waited down at the other end of the counter until it was ready. No sense in pokin' at an angry beast. She dumped the bags on the counter and didn't even acknowledge me. I picked 'em up and headed back to the DX.

"Hey, Steve-o! What in blazes is wrong with Bonnie? She'd have liked to murder me where I stood just for breathin'."

Steve visibly cringed when I mentioned her name.

"Sorry, I forgot she might be workin' there today. I should've warned you. Bonnie's been gettin' real political lately, and she's not on the side of the war. She's one of the ones at the anti-war rallies, printing up all kinds of articles in the paper, and doin' things like picketing the recruiting offices. It's gettin' nasty, Soda. You ain't heard?"

"Rallies? I knew some people don't like what's goin' on over there. Saw a bit of it before I left, but it wasn't that bad. Maybe I just didn't notice."

"No, it's gettin' worse the longer the war goes on. They're probably tryin' their darndest to keep it from the boys over there. It'd be best to put them dog tags somewhere safe and forget about 'em. Someone's gonna try to pick a fight with you, and you can't exactly defend yourself yet."

"Why? It's not like I chose to go there and people around here at least know that. Most guys over there were drafted."

"Don't matter," he shrugged as he took a bite of his burger.

So much for it being like I never left.