Chapter 7
On Sunday, Chris and Tony woke up and, much to Tony's chagrin, soon put on their Remington dress uniforms to attend a Catholic service on the base alongside Josh and Sergeant Major Marshall, who wore their Marine dress blues. Tony mostly just went through the motions, but Chris appeared reverent and deeply moved. The boy who spurned the idea of commitment or monogamy and constantly bragged and boasted listened solemnly as the priest talked about the endless humility and wisdom of Jesus Christ, and how sex was to be only for procreation.
After the service ended, Chris and Tony were soon left on their own again as the elder two Marshalls headed off to do their duty for the day.
Tony liked the way Chris and his dad and older brother interacted. A lot of freedom was permitted to Chris, so long as he obeyed his older brother and his dad when they told him to do something. Chris had a generous allowance that came out of his dad's and his brother's monthly pay- $200, and he'd been given some extra because he had a guest around for this week.
Chris was able to take his Camaro anywhere he wanted during the day. Provided he was either back by midnight or informed his dad of any alternative arrangements, Chris could more or less do as he liked. It was a nice arrangement. Chris was trusted and treated like an adult, yet he always had his dad and older brother around if he needed them, and it was obvious that they cared where he was because they cared, period, not because they were trying to micromanage him.
It was interesting to see. Tony had no idea what that was like, himself. He could do as he liked, sure, but Chris didn't seem like he'd been forgotten about and left behind in a series of coffee shops, airports, hotels, train stations and art galleries over the years. Tony had experienced all that plenty of times. It didn't surprise him that Dad had just pawned him off on anybody who was willing to take him for Thanksgiving Break. He was probably off hobnobbing in Europe still, pretending to be one of the stars of the world of fine art collecting and trading.
What he was, in Tony's mind, was a huckster and scam artist, and generally just a fucking idiot. Tony didn't miss him. Chris' dad was being more of a parent to Tony than Dad had been in seventeen years. It wasn't that he'd really done anything huge himself; he was just doing a hell of a lot better than Dad, which was not hard.
As he hit the gym again with Chris, then played a game of basketball with a couple of Marine sergeants, Tony decided he wasn't even going to bother calling Dad to let him know where he'd wound up. Honestly, the odds of Dad trying to find out were not good. Tony was pretty much on his own. But given how much fun he could sometimes have on his own- at gyms, on basketball courts, with girls- Tony didn't mind that at all.
XX
They didn't talk about school much, or about Honor Corps, or any of that crap- save for discussing the basketball team. Tony wasn't in the mood for much else. He was glad to forget it all while he could. Chris seemed to sense that, and so kept to talking about the basketball team only if he brought up Remington at all. But Chris did have that gold class ring on his right hand at all times, with the seal and motto prominently displayed: Verum Animus Officium. Truth, Valor, Duty.
It wasn't as if the motto was unique to the jerkoffs in Honor Corps, though. It was the motto of the whole school. And Chris was so nuts about the Marine Corps, Remington was probably just an additional chance at getting to live the military life and have some fun doing it. Chris' rank forced him to interact with all the top-ranked cadets often, so all in all, him wearing that ring constantly wasn't suspicious. Tony doubted any member of Honor Corps would have invited him home for break, either.
After a while, they headed out to a YMCA in Jacksonville and killed time at the pool, swimming around, showing off, and flirting with the girls. It was just over 70 degrees outside, so Chris suggested they head down to Surf City, thirty minutes away, and go surfing. Tony had some doubts about going surfing in November, but Chris assured him the water was a lot warmer down in North Carolina.
It was not, as Tony soon found out.
The boys were already in their swimming trunks and armed with their rented boards by the time Tony realized Chris had lied to him. A couple of girls were out, too, and they started cheering for the two muscular boys, encouraging them to go back in the water. Chris and Tony both went, with Tony vowing to Chris that payback was coming for getting him into this. Chris just laughed and headed for the tallest wave he could find.
XX
When the sun set around 5, Chris and Tony amused themselves by going into a Burger King still wearing just their swimming trunks in the middle of November. Even at a beach town, it was a little unusual. The manager was surprised enough that he didn't even remember to enforce the "no shoes, no shirt, no service" sign still on the door.
After eating a couple burgers and boxes of fries each for dinner, Chris and Tony went back to the sleek black Camaro convertible. Its twin tailpipes emitted a throaty roar as Chris started it up, and he worked the stick shift smoothly as he maneuvered through town. Like everything else being put on the road right now, the Camaro's styling had been done by somebody who'd only had a ruler to work with, but in this case, it looked good. As they drove out of Surf City and into the North Carolina countryside, Chris opened the Camaro up, shifting into higher and higher gears.
Tony was having to yell to even be heard for a few minutes, but it was kind of fun. He wanted to drive, though, and kept telling the redhead that. Eventually, Chris slowed down and pulled off the two-lane highway and onto a dirt road surrounded by tall, overgrown grass. It led up to a farm that didn't look like it had been doing much farming lately. Chris drove around behind the red barn, which actually looked gray with so much paint having worn off, shifted into neutral, and turned the engine off.
"Chris," Tony said, "this is oddly romantic…"
"Oh, shut up," Chris said. "I made a call while you weren't paying attention, and plans were made."
"So?"
"So, two girls are gonna be coming out here to meet us in a few minutes."
"So what're you gonna do while I'm having my threesome?"
"Yeah, you wish," Chris said. "The girls are gonna each pick one of us."
Tony laughed. "So, they're really up for just doing this?"
"Oh, yeah, man. They're fun girls. They're not exactly sluts or whores, but they go for a roll in the hay when they want to. Especially with guys like us."
"I mean, they don't have anything, right?"
"Nah, they're fine."
XX
Chris and Tony were sitting on the hood of the Camaro when a red Firebird drove around the back of the barn. Chris waved. Two pretty girls got out; the driver was a redhead, and the passenger was a brunette. They both looked at Chris, then at Tony.
"Hey, so this is that friend of yours?" the redhead asked.
"Yeah," Chris said, cupping his hands and lighting a cigarette. "Kat, this is Tony, Tony, this is Kat. Katherine. Either one."
"Not gonna introduce me, Chris?" the brunette asked.
"Of course I was, Brittany."
The girls glanced at each other. "So, who's gonna man up and go first?" Kat asked, crossing her arms and looking at the two boys.
"Go first?" Tony asked.
"Oh, man," Chris sighed. He slid off the hood of the Camaro and started to strip. "Girls, you've both seen me naked before."
"Hey, come on, Tony, don't be shy!" Kat called.
"Yeah," Brittany added. "Show us what you've got!"
Tony hesitated, but Chris, who was down to his underwear, laughed at him. "Oh, Tony, don't tell me this is your first. Are you nervous, my man?"
"No," Tony shot back, glaring at Chris. It was maybe 65 degrees out, but Tony didn't see a way out of this one. He quickly undressed, and made a point of not looking at Chris as the two boys stood naked in the glow of the Impala's headlights.
"Both of 'em have six-packs," Brittany remarked. "Nice."
"I was looking at something else, Brittany."
"I'd say they're about even."
"Oh, I'm bigger," Tony called boastfully. He moved his hips around, struck a pose with his hands behind his head. "Come on, girls. Don't be shy."
The girls laughed. Brittany waved to Chris. "Chris, come on, sweetie. Let's get you warmed up in the back seat."
Chris whooped, did a little dance, and hurried towards her. Kat and Brittany both slapped him on the ass as he took the latter's hand and headed back towards the Camaro. Tony avoided looking at Chris, who set a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to whisper something.
"Tony."
"Yeah?"
"Always remember. When in doubt… fuck."
Tony smiled, in spite of himself. "I like that rule."
Chris smiled back. "Yeah. I knew you would. Have a good time, man."
With that, the naked redhead climbed into the backseat of his car, and Brittany joined him and closed the long driver's side door. Tony could see Chris leaning back, putting his hands behind his head.
Someone slapped Tony's ass. "Hey, kid," Katherine said, "you gonna stare at them all day?"
"Don't call me kid," Tony replied.
"What should I call you, Six-Pack?"
"I work out a lot," Tony replied smugly. "I could be a model."
They started to walk to the Impala, and Tony became aware that he was getting a little chilly. He didn't like it much, but pride made him walk like it was a warm summer day. Still, Tony was plenty glad to open the door, let Kat or Katherine or whoever she was in, and then slide over onto the red velour bench seat, then pull the door closed and cut off the cold.
The redheaded girl was already pulling off her sweater, then her long-sleeved t-shirt. She looked at Tony appreciatively. "You're not bad to look at, you know."
Tony flexed the strong, well-developed muscles in his arms and shoulders. "You don't have to just look."
Her eyes flicked down. "Excited, are we?"
Things were moving right along. That was fine with Tony. He'd had one-night stands before. Those were some of the most fun he'd ever had, because you had all the enjoyment but no worries about commitment. So Tony smiled confidently as she moved closer to him, putting an arm around her shoulders. "When in doubt, fuck."
Katherine laughed. "You know," she said, "I think you'll last longer than Chris usually does."
She lowered her head, and Tony quickly forgot about all his problems, starting with his stupid, useless Dad. Christ, that felt good. Who needed him, anyway?
XX
Over the next hour, Tony got the best workout he'd had in months. Katherine was pretty demanding, always insisting that Tony do this, or that, or the other thing. Tony would've complained, except he was enjoying himself too much to even think of it. He hadn't gotten action like this since his first. Katherine was insatiable. Tony had to do a lot to try to just keep her happy, but once they'd fogged up the windows completely, she looked pretty damn happy. Both of them did. Tony knew, because when he glanced at the interior rearview mirror, he saw two sweaty, naked teenagers with identical grins plastered on their faces.
Not a bad way to spend an evening.
"So, tell me," Katherine said, while they relaxed for a while, cooling off, with Tony keeping an arm around her shoulders. "You're from that base, too, aren't you?"
"What?" Tony had no idea what she meant.
"Your buddy. He's a lance corporal at Camp Lajeune. He said you guys are in the same unit and everything. So you're a Marine too, right?"
"Uh-"
"He showed us his ID, even. Where's your ID, Six-Pack?"
Tony laughed nervously, trying to cover for whatever lie Chris had constructed about the both of them. "Uh, I left it back in the car. His car. And who cares, anyway? Once you've seen one ID, you've seen 'em all."
Kat eyed him for a moment, then snickered. "Ain't that the truth. All those sexy boys with their neat haircuts, their abs and shoulders, and their cards are just boring as hell."
"It's not all exciting."
"You Marine boys are exciting where it matters." She laughed. "I love fucking Marine boys."
"Oh, not the girls?"
"I just play for one team, thanks."
"Works for me," Tony said with a grin. "So, how was I?"
"Amazing."
"Better than Chris?"
"He's pretty wild. I can't believe some of what he's into. But he fucks like a champ."
"I'm better, though, right? Or am I bigger than he is?"
"Why don't you two get together and compare sizes sometime?"
"Oh, jeez!" Tony exclaimed, recoiling at the thought. "Come on!"
"You wanna do some more of that?" Kat asked invitingly.
"Oh, wow. That's, uh, that's nice."
"Well?"
"Sure."
XX
It was late in the evening when they finally got headed back. After swapping stories and graphic details with Chris for a while, Tony started wondering about what Kat had told him. Something must have showed on his face, because finally Chris asked, "Cat got your tongue, Tony?"
"Why did Kat think we were in the Marines?"
"Oh, that," Chris sighed. "Well, sometimes, I don't tell all the girls I fuck exactly who I am. I'd rather keep from having my brother or my dad look bad."
"She said you showed her your ID. You faked a Marine ID?"
"I might have one around. But there isn't one for you, so don't get your hopes up."
"But why do you have one?"
"It's a nice prop for the story."
Tony considered that. "Well, how'd you get it made? How good a fake is it? Hey, can I see it?"
"Did you ask Kat this many questions?" Chris asked sharply. "Did you guys fuck the way you said, or did you just interrogate her for a fucking hour?"
The sudden anger in Chris' voice surprised Tony, so he decided it was time to back off. "Hey, easy, man. Peace. I just- I think it's pretty cool you have a fake ID and everything."
"Yeah, man, I get you," Chris said, relaxing again. "Hey, hey, hey- watch this."
Before Tony could ask what he meant, Chris stepped on the gas pedal, shifted up a gear, and the Camaro started to fly. The needle shot toward 85MPH, the highest speed listed, and then hung steadily there, but the growing roar of the engine made Tony think the car was probably going faster than the speedometer was able to show.
Tony started to feel nervous. "Hey, are you sure-"
"Yeah, there's hardly ever any cops on this road, man." Chris looked at Tony, then lifted both hands off the wheel. "Ta-da!"
"Dude!" Tony reached over to grab the wheel, but Chris slapped his hand away.
"Keep it cool, killa!"
"Get your fuckin' hands on the wheel!"
"Oh, whatever," Chris sighed, dropping both hands back onto the steering wheel. "You're just like my brother, never letting me have any fun."
"Does a lot of that 'fun' involve you trying to kill yourself?"
Chris scoffed. "Please. Did you see the alignment on this thing? She runs straight as an arrow. I could drive my car with my feet if I wanted to."
"That doesn't make it a good fucking idea!"
Chris uttered a high-pitched, crazy laugh. "Tony, man, go after something with enough courage and skill and nothing in this life is impossible! My brother said that!"
The Camaro's engine was screaming. Tony had to yell to be heard. "Does that include us getting back alive?"
"Sure it does, man!" Chris suddenly downshifted, and the Camaro's engine bellowed in protest. Chris jerked the wheel hard to the left, and tires screamed as the Camaro slid to the right. The tail end gradually swung around, and when Chris stomped on the brake and brought them to a halt, they were turned completely around, sitting on the other side of the road.
"Oh, Jesus," Tony breathed. "Oh, God."
"Hey, that's just what Brittany kept saying."
"You are fucking insane, dude."
Chris laughed as he got the Camaro moving again, did a U-turn, and resumed the trip back to the base. "Admit it. This is fun."
"I'd like to live to age eighteen, if that's okay."
"Tony, every day, you need to get up and live like there's no tomorrow. Because one day you'll find it's true."
"Well, if it's because of you, I'm gonna kick your ass with every second I got left."
"It's fun being friends with you, Tony."
"Sure, man. Sure."
XX
The next morning, Chris was out when Tony got up. Sergeant Major Marshall had already gone to do Marine stuff for the day, and Josh was no doubt busy doing whatever a tank officer did. Probably Marine stuff as well. There was a note pinned to Chris' door, saying "Be back with morning chow by the time your lazy ass gets up. Do some PT or hit the head, whatever."
Tony laughed as he read the note; it was surprisingly easy to hear the redhead saying those words. Deciding he wanted another look at the babes in bikinis that Chris had on some of the featured posters in his room, Tony opened the door and headed in. He looked around, noting with some amusement that Chris' bed was unmade.
The closet doors to the left, just past the dresser, were firmly shut, though. And they had been when Tony had been in here before, come to think of it. Curious as to how neat or messy the closet was, having seen most of the rest of the house, Tony walked over there, took hold of the two brass handles, and yanked the doors open.
The closet was a model to military precision. Various military uniforms hung in the closet, marked with the seal of the Young Marines. There were also a couple of Cub Scout and Boy Scout uniforms, a few suits and neckties from brand names that Tony knew were a little bit out of reach for the son of any Marine noncom, a laundry hamper neatly tucked in one corner, and some cardboard boxes, all of their tops neatly in place, beneath the clothes.
Prominently displayed- facing front and center, not to one side or the other- on a pivoting wooden hanger was Chris' full dress uniform from RMA; the dress hat was displayed above it on the top shelf. Right next to a couple of basketballs, one of which was marked in RMA colors and with the RMA seal.
The uniform was flawlessly-appointed, not one smudge or smear on anything. It had been in the closet for over a day (presumably) but there was not even a speck of dust on it. Why was it faced front and center like that?
Tony shot a guilty glance at the door. He wasn't supposed to be doing this, but… maybe he'd find out something interesting! Like that Chris was actually a virgin and/or had a tiny dick. Or maybe he had a secret infatuation with Karl Marx or something. That made the snooping feel a little less wrong, actually- thinking of funny things it might enable Tony to learn.
The first couple of boxes on the lower shelf were just filled with child's drawings of various patriotic and military scenes, lots of pictures of Chris and his brother growing up with their adopted dad, various books, models, toys and mementos. One held stuffed animals. Tony was just about to get bored when he found one that had a bunch of VHS tapes, all labeled things like "X61786". There was a manila envelope tucked in between them.
Something was off about this. Why the collection of obscurely-labeled tapes? What was in that envelope? Why had those closet doors been so firmly shut in the first place?
Tony suddenly realized he didn't want to be found here. Not in this room, but especially not here, going through a box he was most definitely not meant to find. Tony carefully replaced the top of the box, then set the one he'd moved back on top of it. Tony checked everything else, making sure it was all back in place. It looked good. Time to close the do-
"What are you doing in my room?"
Tony jumped and stood up, his face growing hot as he realized he'd been caught. And with the closet doors still open, no less. Chris was standing in the doorway, a cold, wary expression on his face.
"Uh, I was-just looking around," Tony blurted. "I wanted to see those chicks in the bikinis some more."
"They're on the wall," Chris said, taking a series of slow steps toward Tony. "Not in the closet. What were you doing in there?"
"Just a surprise inspection," Tony said, trying to make it a joke. "You got your shit squared away, man."
"I don't need you inspecting my closet," Chris said. "I don't need you in here at all."
Chris' eyes flicked away from Tony for one second, eyeballing the closet as he approached it. Tony prayed he had done things right, that he hadn't left evidence of the items he'd moved around. Chris didn't seem to spot anything out of place, but that cold, suspicious look remained.
"I was just looking around, honest."
"Looking for what?" Chris asked, circling around Tony. He reached out and shut each of the closet doors. "What were you looking for?"
"Nothing, really. Just wanted to look around."
Chris stared at him. "Get out."
"Sure," Tony said, hurrying to the door. Chris followed him, pulling his room door shut behind him.
Before Tony could say anything else, the redhead stepped close to him, so close their faces were just inches apart. There was so much hate in that face, in those eyes, that Tony took an involuntary step back. He'd never seen anyone so angry in all his life.
"Don't you ever let me find you in there again," Chris said, still in that quiet, measured voice. "My room is mine, not yours. Unless you're with me, you stay the fuck out. Don't ever fucking snoop in my room again. You got no fucking right. That room is none of your fucking business. Do you understand me?"
"Yeah," Tony said, nodding.
"Do you fucking understand me?"
Tony cleared his throat and said, "Yeah, you got it man. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"It better not. If it happens again-"
"It won't. Seriously." Tony swallowed nervously, wiped his clammy hands on his shorts. "I'm sorry. I mean it. I didn't know this was such a serious thing for you. It won't happen again."
Chris' whole manner changed then. He smiled, and slapped Tony on the back. "Well, all right, then! I got some Burger King for us, some of those Cini-Mini things. They're fucking kickass, man."
"Sounds good," Tony said, smiling back. He was both glad there was hot food and glad that he didn't have to see that cold look in Chris' eyes anymore. That had been unnerving, and Tony was glad to see Chris relaxed and friendly again.
"You ready for some basketball? I told a bunch of guys from 2nd Tanks we'd hit up the gym and meet 'em for a game of basketball today."
"Sure. But do those guys know what they're getting into? They really wanna do this?" Tony rolled up one of his sleeves, flexing the strong bicep muscle.
Chris laughed. "You're not the only alpha jock who thinks he's the biggest dick aboard," he said. "You'll see."
XX
Chris and Tony spent the day at the gym, working out and swapping fitness expertise with some of the junior enlisted Marines and some other boys who were sons of personnel on the base. Tony saw again what he'd seen the morning he'd gone on that run with 2nd Tanks: Chris was so accepted, the Marines saw him as being no different from one of them. When the day did come that Chris formally became a Marine, Tony realized, it would only be a small change in who he was and the way he lived his life.
As for the basketball game, Tony got the one game he was promised and then some. Chris quickly organized a tournament with a bunch of boys their age, and the best team from that tournament went head-to-head with a team of junior enlisted Marines. Then Josh Marshall showed up with a team of officers from his battalion, and they just creamed everybody. Tony and Chris were the vanguard of the doomed team, though, putting up fierce resistance on defense and even managing a basket or two when they had possession. Tony loved basketball, had loved it for years, and he could see it in both Marshalls' eyes that they loved it, too.
It was the thrill of adrenaline, of a good fight, of physical exertion, becoming strong and staying strong. It was the center of being a jock, being addicted to the high of working out, playing sports, challenging your body and mind any way you could. It was magnificent seeing Chris was the same way, that he loved basketball for the same kind of reasons. The hours passed quickly and easily, and Tony couldn't believe it when he took a break and saw the sun had gone down.
XX
Still feeling guilty about angering his friend so much and shaken by the sheer hatred he'd seen in Chris' face when he was telling Tony to stay out of his room, Tony tried apologizing again a few times during the day, but Chris adamantly refused to discuss it.
Eventually, Tony decided to let it go. He would never have gone in there if he'd known, but he'd apologized already, and Chris had at least seemed to accept it. That would have to be enough for now.
Late that night, Tony went to Chris' room to try and apologize one more time, but he wasn't there. After looking around the house briefly, Tony found him out on the back lawn, looking up at the stars.
Maybe I should leave him alone, Tony thought. I already pissed him off once today.
But maybe this was just the right time. At the very least, if Chris wanted to be alone, he'd say so.
Steeling himself against the chill of the Carolina night air, Tony went outside and shut the back door behind him.
"Hey, DiNoodle."
"Hey, Marshmallow."
Chris laughed. "Come on over here. Look up there."
Tony was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, and all the dew collecting on that grass would just make him chillier. But he came down the steps and lay down next to Chris anyway. The redhead didn't say anything at first, and Tony decided not to press him.
"Do you remember your mother?" Chris asked.
"A little." Tony hesitated. "Why?"
"I've never had one. I just was wondering what that's like. Having a mom."
"She loved movies," Tony said. "And she liked this French king's wallpaper for some reason." He paused, then added, "Things were better when she was around."
"She sounds like she was a nice person."
"Way better than Dad."
"What'd you say happened to her?"
"She died when I was eight. That's all I know."
Chris was silent for a while. "My brother won't tell me anything about our parents."
"Did he run away from home or something?"
"Yeah. When he was ten. Says it was for our own good. He took me in a backpack, and he just ran. He still has the backpack around somewhere." Chris fell silent for a few moments. "Don't ask him unless he brings it up himself. He doesn't like to talk about it."
"He really won't say what happened?"
"All he'll tell me is it was so bad I'm better off not knowing."
"What do you think?"
Chris sighed. "I don't know. He's my brother. He kept me alive for four years until Dad found us and adopted us. He's everything I want to be. I don't need to know what happened to know he's right. Even if our parents are alive, out there… I could die right now and they'd never know. They're gone. It doesn't matter."
"Oh, you can't die tonight, man."
"Why's that?"
"Cause I need you to take on those jerkoffs at that stupid school with me."
"Which ones?" Chris retorted, and they both laughed. It felt good to laugh. It made Tony feel easier about Honor Corps, and getting dumped on someone else by his father again, and just life in general. It felt good having Chris beside him, just being his friend.
"This isn't so bad," Tony said finally.
"Beats getting left at school because your dad doesn't give a shit, right?"
"Yeah."
"Tony, have you ever been to the statue at the north end of campus? Have you seen what's written on it?"
"What?"
"The statue, the one of a cadet saluting in full dress uniform. It's right beside the chapel."
"I didn't look at it."
"Huc venite iuvenes ut exeatis viri."
"Huh?"
"That's what it says at the base of the statue."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"'Come here as boys, so you may leave here as men.'"
Tony looked at Chris, impressed in spite of himself. "You sound like you memorized it."
"I have. I go there a lot, whenever I need to think."
"Now I know your secret."
"One of these days you're gonna have to grow up and become a man, Tony. You'll legally be one soon. Why not do it at Remington? Place isn't so bad. The code means something. That school means something."
"What was it like for your brother?" Tony asked curiously.
Chris grinned. "He loved it. He went from being homeless to attending one of the best prep schools in America. You- I can't even imagine what that was like for him. The difference. What I do know is he played varsity basketball, got a perfect GPA, became cadet colonel. Graduated first in his class. A goddamn legend. The alumni organization named him one of the greatest Remington cadets ever."
"You really love him, don't you?"
"He saved my life, Tony. I owe him everything. Everything I ever do or become will be because he gave me the chance to try."
"I kinda wish I had someone like that," Tony admitted.
Chris gave him a playful shove. "You'll have to make do with me."
"Aw, man."
XX
Thursday, November 27 was another great day at the gym. Hitting the weight room, hitting the track, hitting the basketball courts- Tony was in his element, and Chris was there the whole time, bringing that contagious energy of his, making everything more interesting, more fun. Eventually, the two boys wandered over to a bus station and took one of the base shuttles to the on-base movie theater, where they watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and Chris laughed uproariously when, at one point, Tony leaned over and said he thought Mark Golan was exactly like Cameron Frye.
Once the movie was over, it was time to go home. Chris used a payphone to call his house, and Josh showed up a few minutes later. As Tony walked in the front door, a whole collection of aromas hit him at once, and it was impossible to decide which one he liked the best. He followed Chris and Josh into the dining room, where Sergeant Major Marshall was just setting down a plate of beets.
"Boys," he said in that deep, gravelly voice, his craggy face lit up with a smile. "Glad you could join me."
"Dad," Chris protested, "two of us live here!"
Josh smacked Chris on the back of the head. "Stand up straight when the Sergeant Major speaks to you!"
Chris turned and smacked Tony on the back of the head. "When you speak to an officer, you say, 'sir'!"
"Okay, that'll do," Josh said, and with seemingly no effort he grabbed both teens by the collar and hauled them into the kitchen. "Wash your hands."
"What?" Tony asked. "Why?"
"Yeah, why?" Chris demanded.
Josh smacked both of them on the back of the head.
"Ow!"
"Hey!"
"Get on with it, guys. Chow's not getting any warmer."
After some grumbling, the two boys washed their hands and then joined the elder two Marshalls at the table.
"Hey!" Tony exclaimed suddenly as he was just sitting down. "Josh didn't wash his hands!"
"Alright, you got me," Josh said, laughing. "I'll go, I'll go."
"Nice catch, Tony," Chris commented.
"Yeah, I try."
After a minute, Josh came back, sarcastically waggling his fingers toward Tony to show them off. Then he sat down, closed his eyes, and said, "Almighty God, we thank you for another year given to us by Your grace. My father and I serve our country and our Corps as instruments of Your will. Help guide my brother as he leads his fellow cadets in his final year at Remington, and help all three of us guide and protect the young man with us today as our guest. May there always be peace, and may there always be Marines, ready to do Your work if those that would do evil should threaten it. Amen."
"Amen," Sergeant Major Marshall and Chris echoed. Tony said it as well. It was a pretty impressive prayer.
"So," Sergeant Major Marshall said, "Tony. The boys and I have a tradition. After the prayer, we each say something we're thankful for. You can say anything you want, but don't be irreverent. Josh and Chris tell me you've had trouble there, but there won't be any while you're a guest of the Corps. Understood?"
"Yes, sir- uh, Sergeant Major."
"Don't worry about that formality. Okay, I'll start. I'm thankful for my years in the Marine Corps, and that I have survived three wars to raise my two fine sons."
The elder Marshall then nodded to Josh, who said, "I'm thankful for everything that I have."
Tony was up next, and he said, "I'm thankful, that, uh… I got to spend my Thanksgiving break with such a nice bunch of people. I'm thankful I made a new friend."
"And so am I," Chris added. He picked up a plate and looked at Tony. "Beets?"
"So, Tony," Josh said casually, "any thoughts about Remington? Thinking you might give it a shot there after all? Or is getting thrown out still the plan?"
Tony speared a few beets and moved them onto his plate. He considered the question for a few moments. "Well, I was thinking about it, yeah. I guess I could."
"Verum, Animus, Officium," Chris said, holding up his gold class ring.
Josh held up a different one. "The Citadel let me have that engraved on the inside of my ring," he said. "Even when I was a knob I knew that's what I wanted engraved beside my name on my ring."
"Truth, Valor, Duty, huh?" Tony replied. "I'm not really big on, you know, fancy mottoes."
"You don't need to be to live by it," Josh replied, then spoke as if reciting something. "Truth: honesty and directness, making the right choice always. Valor: great courage in the face of adversity, be it moral or physical. Duty: a moral or legal obligation, or both. A responsibility."
Josh paused. "You can believe in that, Tony, even if you don't like everyone at Remington. Even if not everything's right at that place, living by that code will help you to make it better. You understand?"
Tony nodded slowly. "Yeah… I… I think I do." He smiled. "I kinda like that."
"I'm glad you do, Tony. Now, please hand the chow over. My plate is experiencing a dire shortage of beets."
XX
Several hours later, Chris was sitting on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring. Dad was upstairs, asleep. Josh was at his own house. And Tony was asleep, safe and sound. Out of the way for when the call came in.
Brriiiing! Briiiing!
Chris snatched the phone up. He didn't want Dad or Tony hearing the ringing and waking up, getting curious. Either way they'd wind up asking questions he didn't want to answer.
"Yes," Chris said.
"So what the fuck's he doing at your house?" Golan demanded. He sounded pissed off, which was just wonderful. "You fucking invited him home for Thanksgiving? What the hell's the matter with you?!"
"Cool it, Golan; I'm just going with the plan."
"Oh, so he's just your pretend friend, huh?"
"You bet."
"Does he trust you?"
"More every second."
"And he doesn't think you're with us?"
"He has no idea. He's not as observant as he thinks he is."
"He's not as smart as he thinks he is."
"That, too."
Golan paused. "Alright, I'll tell you what. I want intel. A lot of it. Consider it an assignment."
"You haven't drawn the marble yet, Colonel."
"It's an order anyway, Sergeant Major."
"So what do you want to know?"
"What he loves, what he hates besides our school, what he fears. Everything about him that matters. I wanna know everything I can use to hurt him if I need to. Knowledge is power, and I wanna know him better than he knows himself. It's how you control assholes like him, keep them in line."
"You can get pretty serious sometimes, Golan."
"I am serious. I'm doing my job. Alex is waiting. What do I tell him?"
"Tell him DiNozzo trusts me. He thinks I'm really his friend. He's got no idea what's actually going on. Tell him that when we get back from break I'll know everything about him. I'll know which hand he jerks off with and how he learned to piss."
Golan laughed. "That's great, Marshall. Just keep up the good work, then. And don't worry. We're not gonna just tell him everything you tell us. He'll never know it was you." A pause. "You should think about going into Psy-Ops when you join the Marines. You'd be good at it."
"I've considered it."
"I can't wait to find out all the shit this guy doesn't tell people," Golan said gleefully. "Every dirty little secret. Everything he's afraid of."
"I'll get you everything. If not now, then after we get back. Just leave it to me. I'm on it."
"That's great, Marshall. Make sure you keep up the game with Tanner, too. The rest of us will play our part when you need us."
"I'll let you know."
"Happy Thanksgiving, Chris."
"Likewise, Mark."
"I'll see you at school."
The line went dead, and Chris set the phone back in its cradle. He looked up at the image of the flag being raised on Iwo Jima, and wondered what it had been like for his then-underage adoptive father, too young to legally be a Marine but old enough to fake his way in and fight in the bloodiest battle of World War II in the Pacific. He wondered what it had been like for his brother to live ten increasingly-miserable years in some home somewhere, then four on the streets with a little brother to feed, only to get adopted around his fourteenth birthday, walk into Remington Military Academy, and become a legend.
Chris also thought about his 'friend' upstairs, and his fraternal brothers, all of them soon to return to school. He thought about the mission he was on, the oath he had sworn to keep, and what that meant he had to do in regard to Tony DiNozzo, and wondered if he wasn't somehow doing the wrong thing.
A/N: 11-24-2018.
So, fun story! I was going to copy this chapter over to another document after highlighting the entire thing, and hit "Cut" instead. I spent a couple seconds staring at the blank page, considered panicking, then hit Google to see if there was a way to undo my mistake. CTRL+Z saved Chapter 7. I don't know what I would have done if I'd actually lost it. Better that I don't have to worry about that.
And with that, the 7th chapter of "The Cadet" is completed, the first one since February of 2018. I can't promise when the next update will be, but I'm hoping it won't be another five months! I haven't been lacking for interest or inspiration for the story- just short on free time.
Chris Marshall has a line in this chapter that references the 1992 film "Scent of a Woman." At another point, Chuck Pfarrer's book "Warrior Soul" is referenced.
This chapter took me a long while to complete, like I said. I wrote maybe 8 pages' worth and just stopped. Main thing was, apart from probably some writer's block, was that I just couldn't seem to find the time to really sit down and work on it, and what little time I could come up with was never enough to get any thoughts going. I finally managed it today.
All feedback is welcome, and be just as detailed as you like. If you notice proofreading issues, or have more significant negative commentary, I'd suggest sending me a PM instead. But ultimately that's up to you.
Josh Marshall has appeared in "Gibbs' Test" by Jenny wrens, Chapter 35, with my permission. In fact, I actually suggested it as part of a possible path to resolving one of the plot lines of that story, and wrote a scene that is used in the chapter. Josh, like his brother, is more than he seems and possesses a great deal of charm, intelligence, and courage. Both of them will have a prominent role in this story.
Chapter 8 will focus on everyone getting back at school, and this plan to take on Honor Corps that Coach Tanner and Tony DiNozzo think they have underway. Tony is coming around to thinking that he'll make his stand and try graduating from Remington, but it's November 1986, and May 1987 is a long way off. A lot can happen between those points in time.