This story takes place after the Brenda experience. It is mostly a Tank Story. Ranger, Steph, Lula, and Merry Men do make appearances, briefly in Part 1. More R&S in second...maybe.
Chapter 1
Surprise
The young boy danced at the end of his mother's arm as he pulled her down the sidewalk, closer to the restaurant door, "Come on, Mama, I'm hungry."
The mother laughed as she allowed the boy to lead her. "Cowboy, when are you not hungry?"
"I'm growing, Mama. Maybe someday I'll be taller than you," he said with a certainty born from hope.
"I'm not tiny, son, but I guar-ron-tee, you will be taller," she said in a mocking Cajun accent.
The last part of the exchange caught the attention of two men watching the tall, dark-skinned woman move towards the restaurant's front door. Under her tight-fitting jeans were long, muscular legs, curvy hips, and a sweet round ass. The white sleeveless blouse offset her darker skin while showing muscle definition in her arms. Her hair was short on the sides and curly on the top. Modest hoop earrings and a matching narrow bracelet were her only jewelry. She carried a wristlet large enough for a cell phone and cards. There was no purse for makeup or other unnecessary items.
Two men watched the woman and boy pass by their SUV. The first man glanced at the second and noted his rapt attention to the mother. "I didn't see a ring, do you? he asked.
The second considered the question. "Nope." He was never one for wasting words.
"Do you think she's military?" the first one continued the discussion as both exited their vehicle.
The second replied plainly, "Maybe. I don't think she is from the city," referring to Trenton's increasing urban black population.
"Air Force or Army?" the first asked again, referring to Joint Base McGuire-Dix dual-purpose base as they followed along behind the woman and child.
"Even odds. She is in shape, including that darn sweet ass.," said the larger of the two dark-skinned men.
"I heard what she said. Do you think she's Cajun?"
Shaking his head no, the larger man said, "She doesn't have the full accent."
"Like you?"
The large man huffed but said nothing. He long ago dropped his Cajun accent.
"You must admit, Tank, that's a cute kid."
"I wasn't watching the kid," the bigger man turned and smiled.
-0-
"Wipe your face, Cowboy. Catsup belongs inside the mouth, not smeared on your nose," the mother smiled.
The young boy, slightly darker-skinned than his mother, giggled, "On my nose?" He started to raised his hand but was quickly stopped, "No, son, gentlemen use their napkins."
In a theatrical movement exacerbated by seven-year-old exuberance, the little boy took his napkin and wiped his whole face. Looking at his mother, he asked, "Did I get it?"
The mother smiled warmly, "You missed it." Rain Massenet was grateful to have such a kind, fun-loving son who rarely broke down into childhood tantrums. Maybe God was kind after presenting her with such an unexpected gift.
The boy wiped again and said, "You said it was on my nose."
Reaching over, his mother tapped the underside of his nose, "It was hiding under here." Carefully wiping with her napkin, she declared, "Now it's gone."
Moments later, the woman's cell phone hummed quietly in her wristlet. She opened her bag and read the caller ID. Not wanting to disrupt other diners, she paused the phone, turned to her son, "Cowboy, I'm going to have to take this call. Please remain here and finish your lunch. I'll be in the lobby where we can see each other." As she rose, she asked an older couple at the next table to keep an eye on her son.
The boy continued eating his fries, dipping them into the catsup as he looked around. His feet swung back in forth as his body fought long confinement. Due to his position, he could look around a partition. Two tables over were the two large, dark-skinned, muscular men dressed in black. The boy's natural curiosity overcame his mother's instructions. Turning to the older couple assigned to watch him, Cowboy said, "I want to talk with those two men. I'll come right back."
Before the older couple could veto the boy's plans, the boy was already moving out. "I'll come with you, son," the older man said. The man wondered why a boy would want to talk to strangers, but having had curious sons years before, he assumed the boy had a reason.
Moving quickly, Cowboy walked purposely to the two men's table. The older man followed behind. What was this boy going to talk about with strangers, he wondered.
The two men at the table watched the young boy approach. This was the same boy from the parking lot, but now he was with an older white man.
"Excuse me, sirs, are you in the Army like my mama?" the boy began.
The men had their answer to their earlier question. The mother was in the Army. The larger bald man with darker skin answered, "We were in the Army, but no longer." A young boy asking if they were in the military wasn't out of the question as they were less than 10 miles from Joint Base McGuire-Dix.
The boy looked at them carefully, noting the handgun on the larger man's hip. He asked, "Were you MPs?"
"No, we were Rangers. Do you know what they are?" the second man answered.
The boy's eye grew wide, and he puffed up a bit. "Yes, sir! I know about Rangers. My Daddy was one. He died. Maybe you knew him."
The second man with the short hair, recently shorn from cornrows, tipped his head, "We might have known him, but there were many Rangers. We didn't know everyone. What was his name?"
"The Army couldn't give my mama information because she and my dad weren't married. He never knowed, I mean, he never knew I was born." Reaching into his shirt, the boy pulled out two flat metal objects. "These are identification tags. Mama said this isn't his real one but is almost." Holding the metal out to show the larger man, Cowboy said, "This one is mine. I have his name. The second is my daddy's. His name was Pierre Alphonse Sherman, but people called him Tank."
The larger darker-skinned man had been reaching for the tag but froze. Was this some joke? How did the boy know his name? Bobby glanced at Tank, who resembled a black marble statue, unmoving with a hand out-stretched. Bobby wasn't sure Tank was breathing. Did he hear the boy correctly? Bobby quietly asked, "What is your name?"
The boy continued, "I am Pierre Sherman Massenet, but my mama calls me Cowboy. Did you know Staff Sergent Tank?"
Tank still couldn't speak, so Bobby Brown, medic for Rangeman, asked, "Who is your mama, son?"
"Chief Warrant Officer Rain Massenet, sir."
"Rain?" Tank whispered.
"Her full name is Rain Antoinette Massenet. Rain can be a man or woman's name but is spelled differently. Sometimes people call her Ram because of her initials, but her real name is Rain."
Regaining a bit of strength, Tank choked out, "Antoinette Massenet? That sounds French. Do you know where she is from?"
"Mama is from Louisiana. There are a lot of French names there, just like mine."
Bobby asked, "How old are you?" Glancing at Tank he noted the man's skin dark brown had a tinge of grey. Bobby didn't blame him. Was this a Lester Santos prank?
"I turned seven two weeks ago on July 4th. Mama calls me a firecracker or a Yankee Doodle Dandy like the song. I like it when she sings to me. I'm glad I'm not macaroni or a pony."
"You are well-spoken for seven years old," Bobby said.
"Yes sir, my mama helps me speak better than kids in my class. She says it is important, but I can't remember why," the boy answered.
As Bobby and the boy chatted, Tank's mind continued reeling in three directions. The Army did declare him dead after the Colombian cartel captured him. It took months to be acknowledged officially undead. His mind's second reeling direction was the mother's name, Rain Massenet. Where was he seven or eight years ago, that he might have met the woman? The brain's final route was the young boy standing here, indicating he was his son. Tank wasn't celibate, but he always wore protection. Was this a condom failure?
-0-
Rain Massenet ended the call and looked for her son. He wasn't at the table. Quickly she searched for him or the couple she asked to watch him. The older lady saw Rain's concern and pointed to her husband several tables away. In front of the older man stood Cowboy talking with two men. Rain sighed. Why did she have such a curious and personable son? Approaching her son, she touched his shoulder, "Cowboy, why did you leave the table? I told you to remain until I returned."
"Mama, I saw these men and knew they were in the military. They were Rangers! I wanted to ask them if they knew my dad."
Her son's obsession with learning more about his father was an ongoing trial for her. Her encounter with Sargent Sherman was brief but not exactly pleasurable. Not only was she not married, but she also didn't date. The boy had no males in their private lives, which fueled his need to seek information about his father. Turning towards the men at the table, preparing to apologize for her son's action, she froze. It had been nearly eight years since she saw him. He had changed. He was far more muscular than before. The face was the same, except his eyes were not battle-hardened but now filled with confusion.
The second man was several shades lighter brown and a few inches shorter, though it was hard to tell with them sitting. How much had Cowboy said? Both men were in a neutral face, military-trained to show little or no emotion. Straining to mimick their expression, she spoke clearly, "Excuse me, sirs. I apologize my son has interrupted your meal."
Not giving the men a chance to reply, she pulled Cowboy over to where the older man had returned to his wife. "Thank you for keeping my son close. He's a handful."
The old man smiled, "I have sons and grandsons. I understand they have a propensity to go off on their own."
Rain smiled, "Does it get better?"
"Not until they hit 30," he chuckled.
"Lord, give me strength," Rain sighed.
The older man nodded, "He will."
"Come on, Cowboy, time to hit the road." Rain grabbed the meal bill while Cowboy collected his cap. Together they went to the lobby to pay, keeping her eyes everywhere but the two men. She hoped the check-out process would be quick, allowing them time to escape. She didn't know how much damage Cowboy had done.
Bobby looked over at Tank, who hadn't moved. "The boy has your name, and I could swear the mother recognized you. Are you going after her? "
"I'm trying to jump-start my heart and brain." Tank got up, forcing the steel back into his legs and back. This was a situation he never anticipated. Unexpected paternity was everyman's fear.
Before Rain and her son could reach for the front door to leave, Tank spoke with this professional bass voice, "Excuse me, ma'am," he said as he handed her a Rangeman business card. "If you'd like to discuss the issue, this is my card."
Rain stopped, but only half turned towards Tank. Taking the offered card, she said, "Sir, my son and I are on our way to Washington. We will be there only a few days before going to my new assignment in Germany. I don't believe there is time."
"I think we have something to discuss," trying to be as obtuse as possible and not look at the young boy. It was hard.
Turning around to face Tank, the woman continued, "Sir, I understand you may want to investigate further, but you are under no obligation. This is and has always been my responsibility. Now, if you will excuse us, we must go." The answer was as plain as possible so as not to tip off eavesdroppers or her son. Taking her son's hand, she left the restaurant. To a casual listener, they may have been talking about a minor traffic incident.
Returning to the table, Tank slid in and heaved a sigh. "She is transferring to Germany and didn't want to talk about it. She said I was under no obligation but could investigate."
"Allowing you to investigate sounds as it might be true," Bobby said. "Is it possible he's your son?"
Tank was trying to remember Rain Massenet. Her face wasn't familiar, but the name was tugging at his memory. "I wasn't celibate, none of us were, but I was careful about using protection, but as Ric proved, accidents happen."
"Are you going to get a paternity test?" Bobby asked.
"First, I'd like to do a background search on her and the boy's birth certificate."