Hello people! I am back. Tomorrow or tonight, I will post a new one!

Enjoy.

Chapter 37

Sleep came fitfully. There were dreams of me walking in Manhattan, missing the A train to Queens because every time I tried to get on one, somebody from inside pushed me out before the doors closed. I walked from station to station, finally ending up walking from Fulton Street to Columbus Circle and saw the Maine Monument and heard music from somewhere close by. Bolero. Haunting and melancholy. It was coming from inside the park and I wanted to walk inside but I just could not.

Lack of inactivity on top of lack of booze made it obvious to me that unless I decided to start practicing for both Boston AND New York Marathons tomorrow, sleep would remain elusive. Finally, around five in the morning, I had enough of tossing and turning and the pushing and shoving and landing on my back outside the train had given me a slight backache. Shower and then maybe some breakfast seemed like the only things I could do even though I was not hungry on account of an extremely late dinner.

The day was already looking like a long exercise in boredom.

Plenty of hot water. Now that was a cause worth waking up early for if one could give up his love for crud. I thought about who would be up this early besides me. Col. Potter proved me right.

I interrupted my song long enough to greet him, "Yo Boss Man!"

"What's up with these Yos? And Boss Man? Have you started nipping at the still already? And mornin' to you too!"

"Its just cool and sweet and short. And you ARE the Boss Man, aren't you?"

"How is your head?"

"My head? That has nothing to do with the respect, Col. My respect comes from the heart, not head."

Already looking amusedly annoyed, Col. ignored my early morning cheer.

"Keep water away from your head. "

"Oh! I forgot about that. Good thing I don't shampoo my hair till Christmas."

"Good! " Col. Potter seemed quiet.

"Is everything alright, Col.? I mean...I am sorry about yesterday. I should have been smarter."

"Yeah, you should be sorry. And yes, you could have been smarter. You know why I let those three come and scream at you last night?"

"Because you didn't have the heart?" I spoke before I had the chance to check my tongue. Col. Potter just glared at me. I kept my peace till he spoke again.

"Wanna try again?"

"Why? I tried to think about it but could not understand. Seemed too theatrical coming from you." This time, I spoke the truth. It was uncharacteristic.

"Good thing you asked. One was the obvious reason. They asked me to let them know as soon as you returned or any news of you came in. But more importantly, it was to let you see how much they care...Hold it, let me finish. You know it now, as well as I do if you are half as smart as I think you are, that the unit loves you. They see you as their hope. They care about you more than they care about anybody else in the camp and that includes me. And you return the favor too, I have to admit. You and Hunnicut are the informal morale boosters. So when your morale is down, believe me, the camp suffers."

"But how is it my fault? And all I do is crack jokes and play pranks. How can they see me as a sign of hope? WHY should they see me as a sign of hope?"

"Maybe you remind them that you don't have to be home to feel alive again? I don't know Hawkeye. That's how it is. They don't 'see' you as hope. You 'give' them hope. And without even realizing it."

"Even if you are right, how does that explain the welcome I received last night?" Now, I was feeling a little angry again.

"Pierce. They just represented the camp. Its like this; they are down, they see you, they know there HAS to be a way out of despair. When they see YOU in despair, they know there is NO way out of this. That's too much to ask from someone, I know. But you know, there is an upside."

"Yeah?" Now, I was feeling really hot.

"Yeah! That means that when it is hard for you, you have another family to be there for you if you need them! All you have to do is ask."

I could not tell him that I knew that. Part of me did, anyway. This was a great bunch of people to be stuck in hell with. It could have been much worse and it wasn't. But I could not talk to them. Maybe part of me liked the attention I was given. Part of me craved for it, I suppose. But I could not take the responsibility for a whole camp. And I could not make them responsible for my well being either.

I decided to kill this uncomfortable conversation with a noncommittal nod.

"Nice lookin' shiner you got yourself."

"Huh?"

"Your shoulder. I did not know about that. Tell Hunnicut to check for your PT. You don't want hemarthrosis."

"He sent blood for it last night."

"Is everything alright, son?"

"Yes, Col. Everything is fine. See you later." With that I left the showers wondering if it was his way of manipulating me into not becoming reckless again. That was the only thing that made sense and it made me angry. Like being guilty at letting Dad down was not enough. Now the camp and not letting it down was my responsibility as well.

It was too cold outside and by the time I got to Swamp, I could feel icicles on my body. BJ was still asleep. He did say something about relieving Frank in the morning but I could not care less about Frank's relief. Beej was up till late last night and deserved a few extra minutes. After drying myself and putting on some clothes which appeared clean if you had a good imagination, I left for mess tent.

After getting some breakfast, I pulled out paper and pencil and started composing a letter to Dad.

That was the decision I had come up with sometimes during last night and now. It was not supposed to be such a big deal. And it wasn't. So I started writing. I had barely written a couple of paragraphs when I was interrupted.