Disclaimer: If I were a billionaire I'd do like Micahel Jackson did to the
Beatles and buy up the rights, but I'm not so I can't. There for I will
simply borrow them and make nothing from it. Satisfied?
Comments: More for you, more for you! Sorry, this took a bit longer than the others to get up, but you can't blame me. *Points accusingly at Lilas* My betaer was slacking. Actually she had work to do and then got sick and was attacked by a pack of vicious small children and watched an awful lot of StarGate.. This chapter was mostly done a week ago, but for some reason I wasn't satisfied and refused to post it without being betaed. So don't blame me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. R&R, please!! And if you have any questions on historical stuff or anything you can always e-mail me too. *points to author bio-thingy*.
Notes:
The Officers Head: ok, in military talk the head is like the bathroom. Only it's a room full of a lot of toilets. So the officer's head is not referring to Yoshi or Crawford's noggin, it's talking about the officer's designated bath-house.
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With my first out over with the days once again passed by in a haze of routine. Every morning we woke to the sound of reverie and filed out to the training field for inspection. Inspection was followed by mess, mess by training, training by duties, and back to mess. Afternoons were blessedly left open to be used to our discretion until evening training picked up and was followed by evening mess. Then until lock down the evenings were open to us once again. More missions followed the first out. I never lost my nerve again. Maybe it was just the pills, but I liked to think that it was because after talking to the kid I realized that no matter how bad things were, I was there to make them better. I had a responsibility to every blood soaked soldier I picked up and every wide- eyed newbie I left off. Yet every time I flew into the field I couldn't help but feel that my humanity died a little more, that each dead body meant less and less to me, and that maybe Fujimiya had it right all along. And so the next few weeks passed.
I spent most of my free time perched on a stool in the infirmary by Omi's bed, talking to Lieutenant Kudou, and avoiding getting involved with Schuldich and Farf. I discovered quickly that when bored Max and Jei had a tendency to get themselves and anyone else unfortunate enough to get involved with them in a lot of trouble. Their favorite pastime was plaguing the existence of Lieutenant Commander Crawford. I've never met anyone in my life who is as creative with practical jokes as Max Wolff. Where he got the keys to the officer's head and that many boxes of instant Jell-O is a mystery I'll never be able to solve. Every once in a while I'd make an attempt to engage my door gunner in conversation, but I tended to crash and burn every time. It seemed that the only person he cared to waste time with was the Crew Commander. More than once I felt distinctively the outsider when I entered the officer's quarters to find them conversing. And yet, despite my failure to become closer to him I found him occupying my thoughts more and more. A fact that bothered me no small amount. But such was life.
The time I spent with Omi, sitting on that hard stool, simply speaking our minds was one of the few things that reinforced my sanity. I found out a lot about that kid over the couple weeks in which he was bedridden. He was born and raised in Chicago, had two older brothers, neither of which were in the war, and a very confusing family structure full of half siblings and estranged uncles in which the opposing cultures of his Japanese and Scandinavian ancestries were in constant conflict. Some of the stories he told me made me laugh until tears came from my eyes.
"When we have family dinners it's always lutfisk vs. sushi. My grandfather and grandmother can go at each other for hours in Japanese and Swedish neither able to understand the other. It's hilarious. I wish you could meet my family, Ken," he'd say, staring off distantly, thinking about home.
I nodded and smiled. "Me too, Omi. Maybe some day I will, you never know."
He smiled and looked at me, the distance fading as he focused. "Yeah, I guess that's true. What about your family, Ken? You never talk about them. What's it like in your house, huh?"
The question caught me off guard and I blinked, looking away. "My family? Ah... there's not much to tell, really. Mother, father, an older sister and an older brother. We don't really get along so well anymore. We kinda had a... falling out before I left home. I think it's safe to say that I was pretty much disowned," I said, laughing hollowly. I thought about home and my parents briefly. Flashes of the arguments, the accusations came into my head. The sadness must have shown.
I felt Omi reach out and take my hand, lacing his fingers in mine as he had that first night we'd talked. "Did they not want you to come to Vietnam?"
I blinked and looked down at our hands, I shook my head. "No.. it wasn't anything like that. We didn't see eye to eye on something... it tore my family apart and in the end I lost the most important person in the world to me. But, I don't really want to talk about it. I'm sorry, it isn't very important anyway, boring really."
Omi sat up, leaning forward, looking into my face. "I doubt that's true. Will you tell me about it sometime? I'd really like to hear about it, I mean it."
I looked back at the kid, caught for a moment by his blue eyes and the sincerity I found there. I wondered if perhaps Omi Tsukiyono might be the guy who would understand, the guy who I could tell everything to. I wanted to tell him... wanted to tell someone anyway, but there was too much at risk. Absently I wondered what Yuriko Asakawa was doing at that moment. I wondered how the weather was in Canada.
"Ken?"
I shook my head. "What? I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Nothing, you just got all distant there. Where did you go?" Omi asked cocking his head to one side.
I smiled weakly. "Nowhere, just thinking."
"Hm. But will you tell me about your family sometime?"
I'd paused for a moment and then nodded my head slowly. "Sometime. Not now though."
Omi smiled at me and squeezed my hand. "Ok. Promise?"
"Yeah. Sure, I promise."
I learned that Omi had been recruited because of his size. He was barely over five feet tall, short by any standard, but that was exactly what the army was looking for. The Viet Cong had a habit of digging tunnels in the jungle where they hid and stored their ammunition. It was the job of little guys like Omi to crawl down into those rabbit holes head first and flush out whoever or whatever was in there. Each time he shimmied into a two-foot diameter hole in the ground he risked finding a grenade or a gun or a bayonet in his face. Sometimes he would talk about missions he'd been on, about scouring the jungle watching men get blown apart by VC booby traps, and the absolute darkness of a track of hand dug tunnel. When he thought about the rabbit holes sometimes he would begin to shake, and stare off into space, remembering.
I didn't like to see him remember so I'd usually distract him with a joke. He would then giggle madly and smile, probably more for my sake than his own.
As the days passed the bond I shared with the kid grew deeper and deeper. Having him there, talking to him, feeling his gratitude for life kept me from drowning in the nihilism that sometimes threatened to overtake me, especially late at night. His smile was always quick and ready, his mood never less than amiable. It felt as if he were a younger brother, or a best friend. He was the first person I learned to love again after I left home. It felt good to care for someone and to be cared for in return.
* * * * * *
I've been thinking about the kid so much that I didn't even notice that I unpacked all the freight. The boxes lie piled in a heap, ready to be broken down. I guess that's my next job. Absently I wonder why I'm thinking so much about Nam today. Usually I try to forget, but for some reason today... I want to remember.
I put my face in my hands and take a deep breath. This isn't a good idea. I'll get lost again. I'll get caught up in the darkness, but something pushes me to keep thinking. What's the point? Remembering, hoping, wishing he was still with me is enough to drive me insane. If it wasn't for the pills I'd probably already be insane by now. It wouldn't take much..it wouldn't take much.
The feel of hands on my shoulders makes me jump. I didn't even hear the footsteps come up behind me. I wheel around, gasping.
"Geez, Ken, take a chill pill," the young woman standing in front of me says, smiling and putting up her hands.
I exhale sharply. "Don't sneak up on me, Patricia. Jesus." Patricia is a young thing, 20 to be exact, working her way through college. I have no idea how she makes enough money at this place to get herself through but she seems to manage. She is tall and pretty, unrealistically thin with long -straight- hair. She must iron it, but then a lot of girls do. She's been working at the store for almost a year, I should be used to her by now, but there's something almost disturbing about her. I think it might be the fact that I think she has a crush on me, and the more emotionally unavailable I am the more interested she seems to become. I don't understand people like that... but then again... I think about Ran.
She leans forward and stares straight into my eyes. "You look sketchy today, Ken. Are you feeling ok?"
I take a step back. "Yes, I'm fine. But don't crowd me, Pat."
She rolls her eyes and then turns to get an apron. "Well excuuuse me. You obviously aren't feeling very talkative this morning, so I'll just go out to my register without giving you the benefit of my company." With that she walks out of the back room and I sigh in relief.
Banzai lifts his head off his bed and looks at me inquisitively. I walk over to him and crouch at his side, rubbing his ears and scratching under his chin. I babble at him in baby talk and let him lick my face before getting up and tackling the huge pile of boxes that waits to be broken down.
I pull the box cutter out of my back pocket, pushing up the thin razor blade. As I go to, slicing through the thin layers of packing tape that hold the boxes together I slip carelessly and cut into the fleshy part of my palm. Gasping in surprise I drop the cutter and grab my hand, looking at the cut. A thick dribble of dark red blood oozes from the gash. I bring it quickly to my mouth and suck gently. The taste of my own blood makes me lightheaded. My eyes flutter for a moment as the metallic sharpness flows over my tongue. I have to sit down.
I walk back to Banzai and collapse beside him, resting my head on his warm body. He whines quietly and then settles back.
I stare up at the ceiling and let the taste of my blood take me where it will.
* * * * * *
Just another afternoon on the base. It would be an afternoon that changed everything, but I didn't know that as I walked into the rec hall, humming 'Eve of Destruction' to myself. The rec hall was long and low, built out of concrete like most of the other buildings on base. Inside it was furnished with a few card tables, a pool table, and a large radio. Not much recreation, but it was better than nothing. In the back there was a storage room full of balls and various 'play things', and beside that the projector room. If we were really lucky they'd play some old, cheesy movie from the fifties or forties on Friday nights, and if we weren't lucky they'd play newsreels. Watching mobs waving signs that protested your very existence wasn't exactly something that boosted morale. Little had changed at home, the hippies still hated us and everybody else didn't seem to really care.
I wasn't sure what I intended to do in the rec hall, but Omi wasn't in the infirmary, which bothered me slightly, and Lieutenant Kudou wasn't anywhere as far as I could tell. For some reason I had a sneaky suspicion that wherever they were they were there together.
"Hidaka! Just the man we were looking for!"
I turned my head quickly and saw Schuldich waving at me from across the room. He was standing up at a card table, motioning to me frantically. I eyed him warily, and took stock of the others seated around the table. Farfarello, of course, Swanny, and oddly enough, Fujimiya. I moved cautiously towards them and stood off a ways waiting for Schu to tell me what he wanted.
"What?" I asked.
"Pull up a chair. Play cards with us, Hidaka," Schu offered, grinning widely.
"What are you playing?" I asked just for the sake of asking.
"Poker, what else. C'mon we could use another player. Adamson and Cue Ball just blew out of here. Pull up a chair," Schu insisted.
"He probably doesn't want to," Farf said in his disturbingly soft voice. "He'd probably rather play Mah Jong or better yet Chinese Checkers. Am I right, Nippy?"
"Sure, Jei. Just about as much as you'd rather be playing whack the shillelagh and chasing sheep," I answered levelly. Everyone at the table snickered, even Farf... even Fujimiya. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He shook his head slowly and smiled. I motioned to Schu. "What are you playing for?"
"Cigarettes," he said flatly indicating the small piles of sticks in front of each player.
I shrugged and shook my head. "Well, there you go. Guess I can't play after all. I don't smoke."
Before I could walk away Fujimiya grunted and stood up from his chair reaching into his back pocket. Without looking directly at me he flipped me a full pack and pointed to a chair. "Sit down and play Hidaka."
I looked at him blankly for a few moments, wondering at his strange behavior. Did he actually want me to join them? Did he want to risk actually getting to know or like me? Heaven forbid his ice walls were cracking. I rolled my eyes, reveling in my own sarcasm, and then took one of the empty seats, my back facing the doorway.
"Thanks, Fujimiya. I guess you're really desperate for another player if you'd deign to ask me to play, much less give me a pack of your smokes," I drawled sarcastically.
He looked at me flatly for a few moments and I was trying to decide what he was actually feeling when he looked away again, taking one of the cigarettes from his pile and lighting it. He took a drag and then blew the smoke in my general direction. "It's not that. It's just that this way, I get to keep whatever you win as well as whatever I win. Seeing as you don't smoke."
I smiled at him blandly. "Well, that's nice."
Schu waved his hand around, swirling Fujimiya's smoke and then broke in. "Alright, shut-up both of you and pay attention. We're going to be playing..."
Schu was cut off by a loud cry from somewhere behind me.
"Ken! There you are! Hey look, I got discharged from the infirmary today!"
I turned around in my chair and looked over my shoulder in disbelief. The voice belonged to the kid. He was smiling broadly, limping towards us as fast as he could. He was in full fatigues, hat and all. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his jacket was unbuttoned, his dog tags flashing, catching the light. Everyone in the rec hall turned towards the sound of the kid's voice. I smiled weakly.
He came up to the table and leaned over the back of my chair, putting his arms around my neck, hugging me. I felt myself blush, knowing that all the other guys were still staring at Omi. I patted his back gently and then began to pry his arms off. "Hey, that's great, kid, but are you sure you should be running around already?" I asked, chuckling a little.
He grinned at me and ruffled my hair, which seemed weird. "Sure, I'm sure. Doctor Madison checked me out this morning and discharged me. I've been talking to Lieutenant Commander Crawford. I'm going to get a Purple Heart! And then as soon as all my papers are in order I'm going home. Honorable discharge. I don't have to go back to the rabbit holes!" he nearly cried, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.
I smiled and glanced around at the other guys at the table. They were all eyeing us curiously. More like staring in disbelief, actually.
After a moment Omi looked up and glanced around the table, smiling at everyone.
"Who's your friend, Hidaka?" Schu asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.
"Eh... sorry this is Omi Tsukiyono. He's one of the infantrymen we rescued on my first out. The kid we waited for. I've been visiting him in the infirmary."
"Really?" Fujimiya asked in disbelief, leaning towards us. He eyed the kid narrowly.
I glanced between him and Omi. They just stared at each other. "Er... this is Ran Fujimiya, my door gunner," I said lamely.
Omi lit up, extending his hand. "Oh wow, really? Thanks for keeping us covered while you waited. I owe you my life too, I guess. Thanks a lot, I really mean it."
Ran smiled dimly but reached out to take the kid's hand. "Sure you do, kid."
Omi blinked and then released Ran's hand. He glanced at the cigarette hanging between Ran's fingers and then reached out his hand again. "Hey, can I bum a drag, do you mind?"
Ran raised an eyebrow his mouth falling open. Everybody's mouths fell open. Ran began to chuckle and then held out the cigarette, shrugging. "Go for it."
Omi beamed and took the smoke between his long fingers, bringing to his lips and taking a drag with obviously practiced grace. He closed his eyes and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly in what sounded more like a lover's sigh than anything else. He tipped his head back. "Oh God, I've wanted a smoke for so long!" he cried happily, wriggling ecstatically and then stood straight again, holding the cigarette back out to Fujimiya.
Fujimiya eyed the kid and then eyed his cigarette. He shook his head. "Go ahead and keep it, kid."
"Really?! Thanks, man. I owe you. Twice I owe you, I guess," he said happily, sliding into the seat next to me. He pulled one of his legs up onto the seat with him, wrapping his arms around his knee and grinned at the table. He took another drag and let the cigarette hang between his lips. Everybody stared at him in amazement and then began to chuckle.
I chuckled along with the others and then finished the introductions. "Omi, this is Schuldich, his gunner Farfarello, and Swanny. All members of the 326th AHC. We were about to play some cards, you wanna join in?"
Omi looked interestedly at the deck of cards in the center of the table. "Sure, what are you playing?"
"Poker, kid. You know how to play?" Schuldich broke in.
Omi looked over at Schu and narrowed his eyes. "Sure I do. You wanna let me deal?"
Everyone chuckled again, but Schu pushed the deck towards Omi anyways nodding. "Suit yourself, kid, but you don't have any smokes. We're playing for smokes."
Omi shrugged. "Well, I'll just play on credit until I get caught up. That ok with you, boys?"
Farfarello and Schuldich exchanged an amused glance and Swanny whacked his forehead. "Whatever you say, kid. But there's a borrow limit."
He shrugged. "That's fine. I won't reach it."
I patted Omi on the back. "Hey, Fujimiya gave me a pack, you want half to start out with?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm not worried," he said reaching for the deck. Without saying anything he split the deck, shuffled and bridged it in the wink of an eye, glossy cards flashing in his hands. He shuffled the cards with obviously practiced speed and accuracy. When he was done he passed the cards to Schu to split and then began to deal. "Alright, gentlemen. The name of the game is High Chicago..."
Two hours later Omi had royally whooped all of our asses at poker, the pile of smokes in front of him enough to make up for all the smokes he'd been missing. Swanny was cleaned out. He groaned and then stood up, rubbing his head. "Shit, man, I'm outta here. Enjoy the smokes kid, and remind me never to play cards with you -ever- again." He chuckled and ruffled Omi's hair on the way out. Omi giggled and winked at me.
I had three sticks left and I slid them over to Ran, shaking my head in defeat. "There you go, Fujimiya, my big winnings. It wasn't quite worth it to give me that pack was it?"
He didn't respond, only herded the three stray smokes into his small pile. Jei and Max both groaned and picked up what they had left, about a quarter of a pack a piece.
"What, are we done?" Omi asked, looking around.
"Yeah, kid, we're done," Schu grumbled.
"Aww, and I was runnin' hot, too," he said despondently.
"We noticed," I said, whacking him on the back. He giggled and then tossed a cigarette from his pile towards Fujimiya.
"I owe you one, so there it is," Omi chirped. Fujimiya nodded and added it to his pile.
We sat silently around the table for a few minutes, each one of us reflecting on our personal thoughts. I figured I could get up and leave, but it didn't seem worth it to bother. I might as well enjoy the company while it lasted. Farfarello and Omi stared at each other curiously. After a few minutes had passed I noticed that Schuldich was fidgeting restlessly. That could only mean trouble. He stretched and yawned and looked around warily, sizing up who was still in the rec hall. Finally he leaned forward and motioned for the rest of us to do the same.
"I've had a thought," he started out slowly.
Fujimiya snorted. "How'd it feel?"
Schu glared at him and shook his head. "That's so old, Ranny."
"Just tell us what you're thinking, Max," Farfarello grumbled, raising one thin, white eyebrow.
"How would you boys like to get out of base for the night?"
Everyone exchanged glances and waited for Schu to clarify. He didn't so finally I spoke up. "What exactly are you proposing, Schuldich?"
He grinned wolfishly and tossed his head. "I have a little plan working over in my head on how we can get to Sang Cho-na and back by morning without anyone being the wiser. Official leave doesn't come up till the end of the month, are you boys really going to tell me that you're going to pass up a fail-proof opportunity to get a little poon-tang before then? I don't think so."
Jei cackled to himself and eyed Schu interestedly. Ran scoffed and sat back. "Count me out," he growled.
"You can't back out, Fujimiya," Schu snapped. "We're going to need your help if this is going to work, and you owe me anyway..."
Ran said nothing to this only curled his lip and leaned forward again.
Omi glanced at me and then back at Schuldich. "I don't think I should... I mean, I'm not even really stationed here."
Schu grinned at him. "All mores the reason to go ahead and do it. If you get caught, what are they going to do? Discharge you? Ha. That's a laugh. Besides kid, I need you especially to pull this off. You're one of us now."
Omi didn't look so certain and looked over at me again. I just shrugged. I figured that I didn't really have much choice in the matter. Knowing Schuldich he'd drag me along kicking and screaming anyway. Schu chuckled and nodded, licking his lips and leaning forward again.
"Alright then... here's the plan..."
Lock down occurred at precisely nine o'clock every night. The generators were terminated, the water pumps were switched off, the front gates were locked, and every soldier was expected to be in their barracks until morning. Not a single light shone in the base after lock down. Tonight was no exception to the light rule, but not every soldier was where he was supposed to be. Quite on the contrary.
I was huddled next to Farfarello against the front gate, water from the grass soaking into my drab army uniform. We were waiting for two things to happen. The first was for the kid to appear with the gate keys, the second was for Ran and Schuldich to appear with the Lieutenant Commander's Jeep. The plan broke down like this: Farfarello and I would stay on lookout by the front gate. Meanwhile Omi, using his small stature and guerilla warfare training to his advantage, would sneak into the officer's quarters and liberate the Lieutenant Commander of not only the keys to his military issue Jeep but also the keys to the front gate. As Omi did that, Ran and Schu would get to said Jeep, put it in neutral and push it, so as not to make any noise, from where it was parked behind the officer's quarters to the front gate. Once we got the keys and the Jeep we would unlock the gate, send Omi back to the officer's quarters to put the gate keys back, and then roll the Jeep a quarter mile farther down the road where we would wait for the kid to catch up.
It was a horrible plan. In fact the number of things that could have gone wrong was troubling. And yet, for some reason, nothing went wrong and it was quarter to ten when Omi finally limped into the back seat of the Jeep and we tore off for Sang Cho-na.
The village was approximately twenty klicks away down a pot holed, rutted road. The way Schu drove it didn't take more than half an hour to get there, but I'd almost had a heart attack on the way. From the look on Omi's face I wasn't the only one.
Sang Cho-na was your average Vietnamese village. The buildings were made of either cement or slat wood. Tin and thatched roofs intermingled giving the whole place the feel of a shantytown. There was a market where you could buy whole chickens, alive or dead, and few other 'shops' if you could call them that. The streets were usually clogged with mopeds and bicycles ferrying their owners wherever they had to go. Exactly where that might be I never had any idea, because as far as I, and the rest of the soldiers station at Pang Nuan were concerned, there was only one place of interest in Sang Cho-na, and that was 'Willy Ng's: American Style Bar.'
I don't know how 'American Style' it really was, but Ng's was at least a place to try and escape Nam. It was designed as far as I could tell to look like a saloon from the old west, or at least a saloon from an old west movie. The actual bar was set up in front of a flight of stairs that lead to the upstairs rooms. Ng's small army of prostitutes offered to suck soldiers off for five dollars apiece, ten dollars if you wanted to do it in a private room. For fifteen dollars you could rent an upper room and a prostitute who would 'love you long time,' and for twenty you could rent the room without the prostitute. I'm not exactly sure what Willy Ng's logic was, but in it must have worked.
Willy seemed to believe that the only thing American soldiers should want to drink was Jack Daniels. Before Nam I never liked whiskey, but at Willy Ng's every second glass was free, if you happened to be American. In my case it took some convincing, but in the end my dog tags seemed proof enough. Suffice to say I acquired a taste.
We parked the car in the middle of the street outside Willy Ng's, Schu cutting the engine and slamming on the breaks. He and Farf hoisted themselves out of the front seats, jumping to the dirt street below. I glanced nervously at Ran, but he looked even more dower than usual, so I didn't say anything. He stood and used the roll bar to vault over the side of the automobile. I did the same, almost losing my balance. I figured that all in all I did pretty well seeing as it was my first ever attempt to jump out of a Jeep. Turning back around I waited for Omi, but he sat very still, staring ahead as if he didn't know where he was.
"Hey, Omi?" I called, reaching back into the Jeep, shaking his shoulder.
"Huh? Oh, Ken! Sorry, I just kinda spaced out, didn't I?" he said, putting on a stupid grin.
I chuckled. "Yeah, are you feeling ok?"
His eyes dropped and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so. My leg just kinda hurts, you know? And I feel... itchy, shaky maybe."
I squeezed his shoulder. "Well, I'm not surprised. You only got discharged today, you've been lying around in a bed for weeks. I should have made you stay behind," I said, shaking my head.
Omi looked at me, his eyes flashing. "I can take care of myself. It isn't your job to look after me like I'm some kid!"
I let go of his shoulder, taking a step back. "Whoa. Where did that come from?"
He dropped his eyes again and shook his head. "I don't know. Never mind, I'm sorry, Ken. Will you help me out of here?"
I smiled and reached my hand out. "Sure."
Schu stopped a small, dark-haired boy in the street and paid him a dollar to sit on the hood of the car and keep other small, dark haired children from touching it. He took the dollar but gave Schu a disgusted look, before perching himself on the hood of the Jeep.
"Well, c'mon, boys," Schu whooped, whacking Fujimiya and me on the back. "Let's live it up! Welcome to Willy Ng's, Hidaka."
We were greeted by Willy himself as we entered the open fronted establishment. Thinking back on it, I remember him as being an unusually tall Vietnamese man with bad, Elvis Presley hair, a ridiculous mustache, and mossy teeth. His eyes were narrow and calculating and his smile made your skin crawl. Greasy was perhaps the optimum word to describe Mr. Willy Ng.
"Ah, so welcome. So welcome. Mista Schulding an his friends. But wait, wha is dis? It's not leave time. I think maybe you sneaky out, hey?" He laughed, holding his stomach and then smoothing his mustache. I wondered briefly if it was held on by glue.
"Just maybe, Willy, but if you want us to drink your booze, you'd better keep your mouth shut," Schuldich replied, grinning slyly.
"Ah, yes, of course. Lieutenant Commander is no friend of Willy Ng. Why he tell him on you? No no, come and sit, sit and drink. Drink and maybe... eh...?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively and winked, breaking into laughter again and came over to us, putting his arms around Schu and Farf's shoulders, ushering them farther into the bar. Omi, Fujimiya, and I followed.
The bar was, of course, not crowded. Had it been official leave it would have been another story, but as it stood on that particular night, the only other occupants seemed to be wife-weary farmers. A few were seated at the bar, and a few more took up a table in the back. Dark glances issued forth from the other occupants, but I tried not to mind.
We sat at a cramped, round table, Willy hovering around us for a few moments until Schu finally spoke up. "Alright, a round of whiskeys. First round's on me, and the second round is free."
Willy simpered appreciatively and scuttled off to retrieve our drinks. It was then that Jei broke in with some asinine, rambling joke that it turned out he'd forgotten the punch line to. Fujimiya looked like he was about ready to break something and Omi kept looking around in wide-eyed fascination like some little lost boy who had found the witch's proverbial house of candy. I wasn't sure I liked that look in the kid's eyes.
When our drinks finally came, Omi took one look into the bottom of his glass and whispered. "I've never had whiskey before."
Schu downed his glass in one swig and then leaned forward, eyeing Omi skeptically. "Do you mean to tell me that you can gamble like a ma'fa and smoke like a chimney but you've never had a frickin' glass of whiskey? Kid, drink up. You have a lot to learn."
Omi looked at me and giggled. "Well, I guess he's right."
I just shrugged and took my glass between my fingers, sipping it, not enjoying the taste but hoping that the alcohol might improve my mood.
"Here, I'll tell you what, Omi," Farfarello broke in, his eerie voice slipping out from the corners of his mouth, "Drink it like I do. Just take it all back in one go. I promise, it's the best way to drink whiskey, goes down smooth." With that Farf took his glass and downed it as Schu had before and then licked his lips, uttering a little 'ah' sound.
Omi didn't look too sure, but shrugged anyway, and picked up his glass. "Well," he said quietly, staring into the amber liquid, "here goes nothing. Bottoms up!"
Before I could reach out to stop him, the kid had poured the whole thing down the hatch. Schu and Farf watched with wide-eyed anticipation, Ran just shook his head and grumbled in disgust.
As soon as the glass left Omi's lips I watched as his face had turned about five different shades of red. His deep, blue eyes grew as large as dinner plates and he began to cough violently. I have to admit that it was pretty funny. He pitched forward and gripped the edge of the grimy table.
"I... I think... water!" he spluttered, breathing in large gasps.
Schu and Farf burst into immediate laughter, guffawing and banging the table. I even heard Fujimiya chuckle to himself as Schu got up from his seat and went behind Omi to grip his shoulder, massaging them appreciatively. "What a sport! Ah, kid, you're a laugh riot, you know that?! What a frickin' sport. Hell, I'll get you a glass of water. Although around here, I think you're safer stickin' with the whiskey."
Omi coughed some more, and nodded his head violently. Schu whacked his back once and then sauntered off towards the bar. When he returned he had not only a glass of water but a scantily clad woman in tow. She was obviously a whore, I'd been on the streets of San Francisco enough to know what one looked like. Painted on make-up, tight skirt, reeking perfume, and a looseness about the joints and skin that made her seem more like some rag doll than a woman. Some things were international.
Schu winked at us and set the glass of water down in front of the kid, who was still coughing lightly every few moments.
"Boys this is Phi-Ahn, one of Willy's new girls. Say hi, Phi-Ahn," Schu had chirped, giving her ass a squeeze.
She leaned forward and smiled, showing a set of teeth that was just slightly less than whole.
"Sucky-sucky, five dolla. Me love you long time," she said sweetly.
Schu guffawed. "Isn't that cute? I think that's the only thing she knows how to say in English, but hell, who needs a chick to say more than that?"
Farfarello laughed loudly and leaned back in his chair. "I'm not going to argue."
"Charming, Schuldich," I grumbled, swirling my whiskey around in the glass. Omi was too preoccupied with drinking his water to comment at all, and Fujimiya just glared coldly at the whole world.
Schu sat down, pulling the young woman into his lap. She sat there pertly, and put her arms around his neck. "Oh, GI," she cooed. Schu trailed his finger down her neck and blew on her ear.
"Get a room, Schu," I said, gagging slightly for effect.
"No way, it costs more!" he snapped. "Why should I pay ten dollars to get head upstairs when I can pay five and get it right here?"
At this Omi spit out his water and started coughing again. I whacked him on the back idly with one hand and glared at Schu. "You can't be serious. You're going to let her blow you in front... in front of everybody in here?"
Schu and Farfarello exchanged a glance and both shrugged. "Happens all the time. Hey, pilot, head's head. And I don't care where or how I get it. She'll be under the table. Hey, since this is your first time in Willy's I'll buy you and the kid a go," he said, as if that made everything better.
I was so taken aback by Schuldich's offer, that I couldn't even get my mouth open to decline before Fujimiya stood up abruptly, slamming his glass down on the table. "I'm going outside. Maybe when you are all done getting blown we can blow this place so we can get back to base and still get some sleep," he growled and then stalked away.
"Hey, Ranny, don't get your nose all out of joint, just cause I didn't offer to pay for you, too!" Schu called after him and then bust into laughter. Just then Willy came back with the second round of whiskeys. Omi, who seemed to be ignoring Schuldich altogether, stared into the bottom of his glass again with wide, fascinated eyes. I noticed that Ran hadn't finished his first whiskey. On an impulse I stood, poured the contents of his first glass into his second, did the same to mine, then took both glasses in hand and turned away from the table.
"Hey, Hidaka, where're you going?" Schu called after me.
"Outside. I'm not really in the mood to watch you get off, but thanks anyway."
The street was dark and empty, the air was humid, but slightly more tolerable with the lack of brain boiling sun. A few lamps flickered and guttered along the street. Somewhere a door slammed shut. I remember being thankful that there was a breeze. It blew up the street as if through a canyon, ruffling my hair and pulling at my jacket. I could see the Jeep parked in the middle of the street and Fujimiya leaning against it. He was smoking a cigarette, the butt glowing orange in the darkness, flaring brighter as he took a drag. I watched the smoke swirl in the air as I moved towards him.
Without saying a word I held his whiskey out to him and then sat on the hood of the Jeep, taking a sip of mine. Whether the kid had left when Ran returned or run off long before that, taking Schu's dollar with him, I wasn't sure. But in any case he was gone.
Ran eyed me for a few moments, but I couldn't read his face in the darkness. He took a sip of his whiskey and then another drag on his cigarette. "What are you doing out here?"
I shrugged and took another swig. "I dunno. I guess the thought of watching everyone get blow jobs from a toothless Vietnamese whore really didn't do it for me. And as far as I'm concerned head is not just head, so I figured I might as well keep you company."
He scoffed. "I don't remember particularly wanting any company."
I nodded my head, expecting his comment. "No, you wouldn't would you. Might compromise your carefully constructed 'wall of impenetrable ass- hole.' So sorry. I guess I forgot for a moment that you prefer being a bitter, cold, soulless individual." I took another swig of my whiskey.
I could feel his eyes burning as he glared at me. "You don't know anything about what it's like to be me."
I chuckled and swirled my whiskey. "Well, I guess that you're probably right. So let's have a pity part for you then, because obviously you must be the only guy who ever lost anyone or anything important to them. It must be so hard to be you, and be the only one." I shook my head and stared at him in mock sympathy.
Halfway expecting him to deck me I almost flinched when he finally spoke. "You are an arrogant, bastard, Hidaka. You have no idea what I have lost."
I thought about the picture of Yuushi and the letter. I thought about Canada and Kase and all the ironic shit that made up my life. Fujimiya thought I didn't know what it was like to lose, and that thought almost made me laugh hysterically. Part of me wanted to just break out and tell him exactly how much I understood, but I knew that it wouldn't do any good. Not now at least.
"You'd be surprised," I hissed.
It was obvious that he hadn't been expecting my reply. His eyes widened slightly, the coldness wavering for a moment. Then he turned his face away again and scoffed, taking another drag on his cigarette.
And then I -needed- to tell him. Without thinking I reached out and touched his arm, leaning towards him. He jerked, startled by the unexpected touch. Our eyes seemed to lock in the dimness of the street and for a moment I was lost in the endless intensity that I found there once again.
"Ran... listen, I... I want to tell you..," but my words and thoughts were cut off by a sudden crash from inside Willy Ng's.
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Afterthoughts: Ohohohohoho!! .... I really gotta get to writing the next part. And no worries. Nagi will be around shortly, if anyone was wondering. Review!!
Comments: More for you, more for you! Sorry, this took a bit longer than the others to get up, but you can't blame me. *Points accusingly at Lilas* My betaer was slacking. Actually she had work to do and then got sick and was attacked by a pack of vicious small children and watched an awful lot of StarGate.. This chapter was mostly done a week ago, but for some reason I wasn't satisfied and refused to post it without being betaed. So don't blame me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. R&R, please!! And if you have any questions on historical stuff or anything you can always e-mail me too. *points to author bio-thingy*.
Notes:
The Officers Head: ok, in military talk the head is like the bathroom. Only it's a room full of a lot of toilets. So the officer's head is not referring to Yoshi or Crawford's noggin, it's talking about the officer's designated bath-house.
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With my first out over with the days once again passed by in a haze of routine. Every morning we woke to the sound of reverie and filed out to the training field for inspection. Inspection was followed by mess, mess by training, training by duties, and back to mess. Afternoons were blessedly left open to be used to our discretion until evening training picked up and was followed by evening mess. Then until lock down the evenings were open to us once again. More missions followed the first out. I never lost my nerve again. Maybe it was just the pills, but I liked to think that it was because after talking to the kid I realized that no matter how bad things were, I was there to make them better. I had a responsibility to every blood soaked soldier I picked up and every wide- eyed newbie I left off. Yet every time I flew into the field I couldn't help but feel that my humanity died a little more, that each dead body meant less and less to me, and that maybe Fujimiya had it right all along. And so the next few weeks passed.
I spent most of my free time perched on a stool in the infirmary by Omi's bed, talking to Lieutenant Kudou, and avoiding getting involved with Schuldich and Farf. I discovered quickly that when bored Max and Jei had a tendency to get themselves and anyone else unfortunate enough to get involved with them in a lot of trouble. Their favorite pastime was plaguing the existence of Lieutenant Commander Crawford. I've never met anyone in my life who is as creative with practical jokes as Max Wolff. Where he got the keys to the officer's head and that many boxes of instant Jell-O is a mystery I'll never be able to solve. Every once in a while I'd make an attempt to engage my door gunner in conversation, but I tended to crash and burn every time. It seemed that the only person he cared to waste time with was the Crew Commander. More than once I felt distinctively the outsider when I entered the officer's quarters to find them conversing. And yet, despite my failure to become closer to him I found him occupying my thoughts more and more. A fact that bothered me no small amount. But such was life.
The time I spent with Omi, sitting on that hard stool, simply speaking our minds was one of the few things that reinforced my sanity. I found out a lot about that kid over the couple weeks in which he was bedridden. He was born and raised in Chicago, had two older brothers, neither of which were in the war, and a very confusing family structure full of half siblings and estranged uncles in which the opposing cultures of his Japanese and Scandinavian ancestries were in constant conflict. Some of the stories he told me made me laugh until tears came from my eyes.
"When we have family dinners it's always lutfisk vs. sushi. My grandfather and grandmother can go at each other for hours in Japanese and Swedish neither able to understand the other. It's hilarious. I wish you could meet my family, Ken," he'd say, staring off distantly, thinking about home.
I nodded and smiled. "Me too, Omi. Maybe some day I will, you never know."
He smiled and looked at me, the distance fading as he focused. "Yeah, I guess that's true. What about your family, Ken? You never talk about them. What's it like in your house, huh?"
The question caught me off guard and I blinked, looking away. "My family? Ah... there's not much to tell, really. Mother, father, an older sister and an older brother. We don't really get along so well anymore. We kinda had a... falling out before I left home. I think it's safe to say that I was pretty much disowned," I said, laughing hollowly. I thought about home and my parents briefly. Flashes of the arguments, the accusations came into my head. The sadness must have shown.
I felt Omi reach out and take my hand, lacing his fingers in mine as he had that first night we'd talked. "Did they not want you to come to Vietnam?"
I blinked and looked down at our hands, I shook my head. "No.. it wasn't anything like that. We didn't see eye to eye on something... it tore my family apart and in the end I lost the most important person in the world to me. But, I don't really want to talk about it. I'm sorry, it isn't very important anyway, boring really."
Omi sat up, leaning forward, looking into my face. "I doubt that's true. Will you tell me about it sometime? I'd really like to hear about it, I mean it."
I looked back at the kid, caught for a moment by his blue eyes and the sincerity I found there. I wondered if perhaps Omi Tsukiyono might be the guy who would understand, the guy who I could tell everything to. I wanted to tell him... wanted to tell someone anyway, but there was too much at risk. Absently I wondered what Yuriko Asakawa was doing at that moment. I wondered how the weather was in Canada.
"Ken?"
I shook my head. "What? I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Nothing, you just got all distant there. Where did you go?" Omi asked cocking his head to one side.
I smiled weakly. "Nowhere, just thinking."
"Hm. But will you tell me about your family sometime?"
I'd paused for a moment and then nodded my head slowly. "Sometime. Not now though."
Omi smiled at me and squeezed my hand. "Ok. Promise?"
"Yeah. Sure, I promise."
I learned that Omi had been recruited because of his size. He was barely over five feet tall, short by any standard, but that was exactly what the army was looking for. The Viet Cong had a habit of digging tunnels in the jungle where they hid and stored their ammunition. It was the job of little guys like Omi to crawl down into those rabbit holes head first and flush out whoever or whatever was in there. Each time he shimmied into a two-foot diameter hole in the ground he risked finding a grenade or a gun or a bayonet in his face. Sometimes he would talk about missions he'd been on, about scouring the jungle watching men get blown apart by VC booby traps, and the absolute darkness of a track of hand dug tunnel. When he thought about the rabbit holes sometimes he would begin to shake, and stare off into space, remembering.
I didn't like to see him remember so I'd usually distract him with a joke. He would then giggle madly and smile, probably more for my sake than his own.
As the days passed the bond I shared with the kid grew deeper and deeper. Having him there, talking to him, feeling his gratitude for life kept me from drowning in the nihilism that sometimes threatened to overtake me, especially late at night. His smile was always quick and ready, his mood never less than amiable. It felt as if he were a younger brother, or a best friend. He was the first person I learned to love again after I left home. It felt good to care for someone and to be cared for in return.
* * * * * *
I've been thinking about the kid so much that I didn't even notice that I unpacked all the freight. The boxes lie piled in a heap, ready to be broken down. I guess that's my next job. Absently I wonder why I'm thinking so much about Nam today. Usually I try to forget, but for some reason today... I want to remember.
I put my face in my hands and take a deep breath. This isn't a good idea. I'll get lost again. I'll get caught up in the darkness, but something pushes me to keep thinking. What's the point? Remembering, hoping, wishing he was still with me is enough to drive me insane. If it wasn't for the pills I'd probably already be insane by now. It wouldn't take much..it wouldn't take much.
The feel of hands on my shoulders makes me jump. I didn't even hear the footsteps come up behind me. I wheel around, gasping.
"Geez, Ken, take a chill pill," the young woman standing in front of me says, smiling and putting up her hands.
I exhale sharply. "Don't sneak up on me, Patricia. Jesus." Patricia is a young thing, 20 to be exact, working her way through college. I have no idea how she makes enough money at this place to get herself through but she seems to manage. She is tall and pretty, unrealistically thin with long -straight- hair. She must iron it, but then a lot of girls do. She's been working at the store for almost a year, I should be used to her by now, but there's something almost disturbing about her. I think it might be the fact that I think she has a crush on me, and the more emotionally unavailable I am the more interested she seems to become. I don't understand people like that... but then again... I think about Ran.
She leans forward and stares straight into my eyes. "You look sketchy today, Ken. Are you feeling ok?"
I take a step back. "Yes, I'm fine. But don't crowd me, Pat."
She rolls her eyes and then turns to get an apron. "Well excuuuse me. You obviously aren't feeling very talkative this morning, so I'll just go out to my register without giving you the benefit of my company." With that she walks out of the back room and I sigh in relief.
Banzai lifts his head off his bed and looks at me inquisitively. I walk over to him and crouch at his side, rubbing his ears and scratching under his chin. I babble at him in baby talk and let him lick my face before getting up and tackling the huge pile of boxes that waits to be broken down.
I pull the box cutter out of my back pocket, pushing up the thin razor blade. As I go to, slicing through the thin layers of packing tape that hold the boxes together I slip carelessly and cut into the fleshy part of my palm. Gasping in surprise I drop the cutter and grab my hand, looking at the cut. A thick dribble of dark red blood oozes from the gash. I bring it quickly to my mouth and suck gently. The taste of my own blood makes me lightheaded. My eyes flutter for a moment as the metallic sharpness flows over my tongue. I have to sit down.
I walk back to Banzai and collapse beside him, resting my head on his warm body. He whines quietly and then settles back.
I stare up at the ceiling and let the taste of my blood take me where it will.
* * * * * *
Just another afternoon on the base. It would be an afternoon that changed everything, but I didn't know that as I walked into the rec hall, humming 'Eve of Destruction' to myself. The rec hall was long and low, built out of concrete like most of the other buildings on base. Inside it was furnished with a few card tables, a pool table, and a large radio. Not much recreation, but it was better than nothing. In the back there was a storage room full of balls and various 'play things', and beside that the projector room. If we were really lucky they'd play some old, cheesy movie from the fifties or forties on Friday nights, and if we weren't lucky they'd play newsreels. Watching mobs waving signs that protested your very existence wasn't exactly something that boosted morale. Little had changed at home, the hippies still hated us and everybody else didn't seem to really care.
I wasn't sure what I intended to do in the rec hall, but Omi wasn't in the infirmary, which bothered me slightly, and Lieutenant Kudou wasn't anywhere as far as I could tell. For some reason I had a sneaky suspicion that wherever they were they were there together.
"Hidaka! Just the man we were looking for!"
I turned my head quickly and saw Schuldich waving at me from across the room. He was standing up at a card table, motioning to me frantically. I eyed him warily, and took stock of the others seated around the table. Farfarello, of course, Swanny, and oddly enough, Fujimiya. I moved cautiously towards them and stood off a ways waiting for Schu to tell me what he wanted.
"What?" I asked.
"Pull up a chair. Play cards with us, Hidaka," Schu offered, grinning widely.
"What are you playing?" I asked just for the sake of asking.
"Poker, what else. C'mon we could use another player. Adamson and Cue Ball just blew out of here. Pull up a chair," Schu insisted.
"He probably doesn't want to," Farf said in his disturbingly soft voice. "He'd probably rather play Mah Jong or better yet Chinese Checkers. Am I right, Nippy?"
"Sure, Jei. Just about as much as you'd rather be playing whack the shillelagh and chasing sheep," I answered levelly. Everyone at the table snickered, even Farf... even Fujimiya. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He shook his head slowly and smiled. I motioned to Schu. "What are you playing for?"
"Cigarettes," he said flatly indicating the small piles of sticks in front of each player.
I shrugged and shook my head. "Well, there you go. Guess I can't play after all. I don't smoke."
Before I could walk away Fujimiya grunted and stood up from his chair reaching into his back pocket. Without looking directly at me he flipped me a full pack and pointed to a chair. "Sit down and play Hidaka."
I looked at him blankly for a few moments, wondering at his strange behavior. Did he actually want me to join them? Did he want to risk actually getting to know or like me? Heaven forbid his ice walls were cracking. I rolled my eyes, reveling in my own sarcasm, and then took one of the empty seats, my back facing the doorway.
"Thanks, Fujimiya. I guess you're really desperate for another player if you'd deign to ask me to play, much less give me a pack of your smokes," I drawled sarcastically.
He looked at me flatly for a few moments and I was trying to decide what he was actually feeling when he looked away again, taking one of the cigarettes from his pile and lighting it. He took a drag and then blew the smoke in my general direction. "It's not that. It's just that this way, I get to keep whatever you win as well as whatever I win. Seeing as you don't smoke."
I smiled at him blandly. "Well, that's nice."
Schu waved his hand around, swirling Fujimiya's smoke and then broke in. "Alright, shut-up both of you and pay attention. We're going to be playing..."
Schu was cut off by a loud cry from somewhere behind me.
"Ken! There you are! Hey look, I got discharged from the infirmary today!"
I turned around in my chair and looked over my shoulder in disbelief. The voice belonged to the kid. He was smiling broadly, limping towards us as fast as he could. He was in full fatigues, hat and all. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his jacket was unbuttoned, his dog tags flashing, catching the light. Everyone in the rec hall turned towards the sound of the kid's voice. I smiled weakly.
He came up to the table and leaned over the back of my chair, putting his arms around my neck, hugging me. I felt myself blush, knowing that all the other guys were still staring at Omi. I patted his back gently and then began to pry his arms off. "Hey, that's great, kid, but are you sure you should be running around already?" I asked, chuckling a little.
He grinned at me and ruffled my hair, which seemed weird. "Sure, I'm sure. Doctor Madison checked me out this morning and discharged me. I've been talking to Lieutenant Commander Crawford. I'm going to get a Purple Heart! And then as soon as all my papers are in order I'm going home. Honorable discharge. I don't have to go back to the rabbit holes!" he nearly cried, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.
I smiled and glanced around at the other guys at the table. They were all eyeing us curiously. More like staring in disbelief, actually.
After a moment Omi looked up and glanced around the table, smiling at everyone.
"Who's your friend, Hidaka?" Schu asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.
"Eh... sorry this is Omi Tsukiyono. He's one of the infantrymen we rescued on my first out. The kid we waited for. I've been visiting him in the infirmary."
"Really?" Fujimiya asked in disbelief, leaning towards us. He eyed the kid narrowly.
I glanced between him and Omi. They just stared at each other. "Er... this is Ran Fujimiya, my door gunner," I said lamely.
Omi lit up, extending his hand. "Oh wow, really? Thanks for keeping us covered while you waited. I owe you my life too, I guess. Thanks a lot, I really mean it."
Ran smiled dimly but reached out to take the kid's hand. "Sure you do, kid."
Omi blinked and then released Ran's hand. He glanced at the cigarette hanging between Ran's fingers and then reached out his hand again. "Hey, can I bum a drag, do you mind?"
Ran raised an eyebrow his mouth falling open. Everybody's mouths fell open. Ran began to chuckle and then held out the cigarette, shrugging. "Go for it."
Omi beamed and took the smoke between his long fingers, bringing to his lips and taking a drag with obviously practiced grace. He closed his eyes and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly in what sounded more like a lover's sigh than anything else. He tipped his head back. "Oh God, I've wanted a smoke for so long!" he cried happily, wriggling ecstatically and then stood straight again, holding the cigarette back out to Fujimiya.
Fujimiya eyed the kid and then eyed his cigarette. He shook his head. "Go ahead and keep it, kid."
"Really?! Thanks, man. I owe you. Twice I owe you, I guess," he said happily, sliding into the seat next to me. He pulled one of his legs up onto the seat with him, wrapping his arms around his knee and grinned at the table. He took another drag and let the cigarette hang between his lips. Everybody stared at him in amazement and then began to chuckle.
I chuckled along with the others and then finished the introductions. "Omi, this is Schuldich, his gunner Farfarello, and Swanny. All members of the 326th AHC. We were about to play some cards, you wanna join in?"
Omi looked interestedly at the deck of cards in the center of the table. "Sure, what are you playing?"
"Poker, kid. You know how to play?" Schuldich broke in.
Omi looked over at Schu and narrowed his eyes. "Sure I do. You wanna let me deal?"
Everyone chuckled again, but Schu pushed the deck towards Omi anyways nodding. "Suit yourself, kid, but you don't have any smokes. We're playing for smokes."
Omi shrugged. "Well, I'll just play on credit until I get caught up. That ok with you, boys?"
Farfarello and Schuldich exchanged an amused glance and Swanny whacked his forehead. "Whatever you say, kid. But there's a borrow limit."
He shrugged. "That's fine. I won't reach it."
I patted Omi on the back. "Hey, Fujimiya gave me a pack, you want half to start out with?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm not worried," he said reaching for the deck. Without saying anything he split the deck, shuffled and bridged it in the wink of an eye, glossy cards flashing in his hands. He shuffled the cards with obviously practiced speed and accuracy. When he was done he passed the cards to Schu to split and then began to deal. "Alright, gentlemen. The name of the game is High Chicago..."
Two hours later Omi had royally whooped all of our asses at poker, the pile of smokes in front of him enough to make up for all the smokes he'd been missing. Swanny was cleaned out. He groaned and then stood up, rubbing his head. "Shit, man, I'm outta here. Enjoy the smokes kid, and remind me never to play cards with you -ever- again." He chuckled and ruffled Omi's hair on the way out. Omi giggled and winked at me.
I had three sticks left and I slid them over to Ran, shaking my head in defeat. "There you go, Fujimiya, my big winnings. It wasn't quite worth it to give me that pack was it?"
He didn't respond, only herded the three stray smokes into his small pile. Jei and Max both groaned and picked up what they had left, about a quarter of a pack a piece.
"What, are we done?" Omi asked, looking around.
"Yeah, kid, we're done," Schu grumbled.
"Aww, and I was runnin' hot, too," he said despondently.
"We noticed," I said, whacking him on the back. He giggled and then tossed a cigarette from his pile towards Fujimiya.
"I owe you one, so there it is," Omi chirped. Fujimiya nodded and added it to his pile.
We sat silently around the table for a few minutes, each one of us reflecting on our personal thoughts. I figured I could get up and leave, but it didn't seem worth it to bother. I might as well enjoy the company while it lasted. Farfarello and Omi stared at each other curiously. After a few minutes had passed I noticed that Schuldich was fidgeting restlessly. That could only mean trouble. He stretched and yawned and looked around warily, sizing up who was still in the rec hall. Finally he leaned forward and motioned for the rest of us to do the same.
"I've had a thought," he started out slowly.
Fujimiya snorted. "How'd it feel?"
Schu glared at him and shook his head. "That's so old, Ranny."
"Just tell us what you're thinking, Max," Farfarello grumbled, raising one thin, white eyebrow.
"How would you boys like to get out of base for the night?"
Everyone exchanged glances and waited for Schu to clarify. He didn't so finally I spoke up. "What exactly are you proposing, Schuldich?"
He grinned wolfishly and tossed his head. "I have a little plan working over in my head on how we can get to Sang Cho-na and back by morning without anyone being the wiser. Official leave doesn't come up till the end of the month, are you boys really going to tell me that you're going to pass up a fail-proof opportunity to get a little poon-tang before then? I don't think so."
Jei cackled to himself and eyed Schu interestedly. Ran scoffed and sat back. "Count me out," he growled.
"You can't back out, Fujimiya," Schu snapped. "We're going to need your help if this is going to work, and you owe me anyway..."
Ran said nothing to this only curled his lip and leaned forward again.
Omi glanced at me and then back at Schuldich. "I don't think I should... I mean, I'm not even really stationed here."
Schu grinned at him. "All mores the reason to go ahead and do it. If you get caught, what are they going to do? Discharge you? Ha. That's a laugh. Besides kid, I need you especially to pull this off. You're one of us now."
Omi didn't look so certain and looked over at me again. I just shrugged. I figured that I didn't really have much choice in the matter. Knowing Schuldich he'd drag me along kicking and screaming anyway. Schu chuckled and nodded, licking his lips and leaning forward again.
"Alright then... here's the plan..."
Lock down occurred at precisely nine o'clock every night. The generators were terminated, the water pumps were switched off, the front gates were locked, and every soldier was expected to be in their barracks until morning. Not a single light shone in the base after lock down. Tonight was no exception to the light rule, but not every soldier was where he was supposed to be. Quite on the contrary.
I was huddled next to Farfarello against the front gate, water from the grass soaking into my drab army uniform. We were waiting for two things to happen. The first was for the kid to appear with the gate keys, the second was for Ran and Schuldich to appear with the Lieutenant Commander's Jeep. The plan broke down like this: Farfarello and I would stay on lookout by the front gate. Meanwhile Omi, using his small stature and guerilla warfare training to his advantage, would sneak into the officer's quarters and liberate the Lieutenant Commander of not only the keys to his military issue Jeep but also the keys to the front gate. As Omi did that, Ran and Schu would get to said Jeep, put it in neutral and push it, so as not to make any noise, from where it was parked behind the officer's quarters to the front gate. Once we got the keys and the Jeep we would unlock the gate, send Omi back to the officer's quarters to put the gate keys back, and then roll the Jeep a quarter mile farther down the road where we would wait for the kid to catch up.
It was a horrible plan. In fact the number of things that could have gone wrong was troubling. And yet, for some reason, nothing went wrong and it was quarter to ten when Omi finally limped into the back seat of the Jeep and we tore off for Sang Cho-na.
The village was approximately twenty klicks away down a pot holed, rutted road. The way Schu drove it didn't take more than half an hour to get there, but I'd almost had a heart attack on the way. From the look on Omi's face I wasn't the only one.
Sang Cho-na was your average Vietnamese village. The buildings were made of either cement or slat wood. Tin and thatched roofs intermingled giving the whole place the feel of a shantytown. There was a market where you could buy whole chickens, alive or dead, and few other 'shops' if you could call them that. The streets were usually clogged with mopeds and bicycles ferrying their owners wherever they had to go. Exactly where that might be I never had any idea, because as far as I, and the rest of the soldiers station at Pang Nuan were concerned, there was only one place of interest in Sang Cho-na, and that was 'Willy Ng's: American Style Bar.'
I don't know how 'American Style' it really was, but Ng's was at least a place to try and escape Nam. It was designed as far as I could tell to look like a saloon from the old west, or at least a saloon from an old west movie. The actual bar was set up in front of a flight of stairs that lead to the upstairs rooms. Ng's small army of prostitutes offered to suck soldiers off for five dollars apiece, ten dollars if you wanted to do it in a private room. For fifteen dollars you could rent an upper room and a prostitute who would 'love you long time,' and for twenty you could rent the room without the prostitute. I'm not exactly sure what Willy Ng's logic was, but in it must have worked.
Willy seemed to believe that the only thing American soldiers should want to drink was Jack Daniels. Before Nam I never liked whiskey, but at Willy Ng's every second glass was free, if you happened to be American. In my case it took some convincing, but in the end my dog tags seemed proof enough. Suffice to say I acquired a taste.
We parked the car in the middle of the street outside Willy Ng's, Schu cutting the engine and slamming on the breaks. He and Farf hoisted themselves out of the front seats, jumping to the dirt street below. I glanced nervously at Ran, but he looked even more dower than usual, so I didn't say anything. He stood and used the roll bar to vault over the side of the automobile. I did the same, almost losing my balance. I figured that all in all I did pretty well seeing as it was my first ever attempt to jump out of a Jeep. Turning back around I waited for Omi, but he sat very still, staring ahead as if he didn't know where he was.
"Hey, Omi?" I called, reaching back into the Jeep, shaking his shoulder.
"Huh? Oh, Ken! Sorry, I just kinda spaced out, didn't I?" he said, putting on a stupid grin.
I chuckled. "Yeah, are you feeling ok?"
His eyes dropped and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so. My leg just kinda hurts, you know? And I feel... itchy, shaky maybe."
I squeezed his shoulder. "Well, I'm not surprised. You only got discharged today, you've been lying around in a bed for weeks. I should have made you stay behind," I said, shaking my head.
Omi looked at me, his eyes flashing. "I can take care of myself. It isn't your job to look after me like I'm some kid!"
I let go of his shoulder, taking a step back. "Whoa. Where did that come from?"
He dropped his eyes again and shook his head. "I don't know. Never mind, I'm sorry, Ken. Will you help me out of here?"
I smiled and reached my hand out. "Sure."
Schu stopped a small, dark-haired boy in the street and paid him a dollar to sit on the hood of the car and keep other small, dark haired children from touching it. He took the dollar but gave Schu a disgusted look, before perching himself on the hood of the Jeep.
"Well, c'mon, boys," Schu whooped, whacking Fujimiya and me on the back. "Let's live it up! Welcome to Willy Ng's, Hidaka."
We were greeted by Willy himself as we entered the open fronted establishment. Thinking back on it, I remember him as being an unusually tall Vietnamese man with bad, Elvis Presley hair, a ridiculous mustache, and mossy teeth. His eyes were narrow and calculating and his smile made your skin crawl. Greasy was perhaps the optimum word to describe Mr. Willy Ng.
"Ah, so welcome. So welcome. Mista Schulding an his friends. But wait, wha is dis? It's not leave time. I think maybe you sneaky out, hey?" He laughed, holding his stomach and then smoothing his mustache. I wondered briefly if it was held on by glue.
"Just maybe, Willy, but if you want us to drink your booze, you'd better keep your mouth shut," Schuldich replied, grinning slyly.
"Ah, yes, of course. Lieutenant Commander is no friend of Willy Ng. Why he tell him on you? No no, come and sit, sit and drink. Drink and maybe... eh...?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively and winked, breaking into laughter again and came over to us, putting his arms around Schu and Farf's shoulders, ushering them farther into the bar. Omi, Fujimiya, and I followed.
The bar was, of course, not crowded. Had it been official leave it would have been another story, but as it stood on that particular night, the only other occupants seemed to be wife-weary farmers. A few were seated at the bar, and a few more took up a table in the back. Dark glances issued forth from the other occupants, but I tried not to mind.
We sat at a cramped, round table, Willy hovering around us for a few moments until Schu finally spoke up. "Alright, a round of whiskeys. First round's on me, and the second round is free."
Willy simpered appreciatively and scuttled off to retrieve our drinks. It was then that Jei broke in with some asinine, rambling joke that it turned out he'd forgotten the punch line to. Fujimiya looked like he was about ready to break something and Omi kept looking around in wide-eyed fascination like some little lost boy who had found the witch's proverbial house of candy. I wasn't sure I liked that look in the kid's eyes.
When our drinks finally came, Omi took one look into the bottom of his glass and whispered. "I've never had whiskey before."
Schu downed his glass in one swig and then leaned forward, eyeing Omi skeptically. "Do you mean to tell me that you can gamble like a ma'fa and smoke like a chimney but you've never had a frickin' glass of whiskey? Kid, drink up. You have a lot to learn."
Omi looked at me and giggled. "Well, I guess he's right."
I just shrugged and took my glass between my fingers, sipping it, not enjoying the taste but hoping that the alcohol might improve my mood.
"Here, I'll tell you what, Omi," Farfarello broke in, his eerie voice slipping out from the corners of his mouth, "Drink it like I do. Just take it all back in one go. I promise, it's the best way to drink whiskey, goes down smooth." With that Farf took his glass and downed it as Schu had before and then licked his lips, uttering a little 'ah' sound.
Omi didn't look too sure, but shrugged anyway, and picked up his glass. "Well," he said quietly, staring into the amber liquid, "here goes nothing. Bottoms up!"
Before I could reach out to stop him, the kid had poured the whole thing down the hatch. Schu and Farf watched with wide-eyed anticipation, Ran just shook his head and grumbled in disgust.
As soon as the glass left Omi's lips I watched as his face had turned about five different shades of red. His deep, blue eyes grew as large as dinner plates and he began to cough violently. I have to admit that it was pretty funny. He pitched forward and gripped the edge of the grimy table.
"I... I think... water!" he spluttered, breathing in large gasps.
Schu and Farf burst into immediate laughter, guffawing and banging the table. I even heard Fujimiya chuckle to himself as Schu got up from his seat and went behind Omi to grip his shoulder, massaging them appreciatively. "What a sport! Ah, kid, you're a laugh riot, you know that?! What a frickin' sport. Hell, I'll get you a glass of water. Although around here, I think you're safer stickin' with the whiskey."
Omi coughed some more, and nodded his head violently. Schu whacked his back once and then sauntered off towards the bar. When he returned he had not only a glass of water but a scantily clad woman in tow. She was obviously a whore, I'd been on the streets of San Francisco enough to know what one looked like. Painted on make-up, tight skirt, reeking perfume, and a looseness about the joints and skin that made her seem more like some rag doll than a woman. Some things were international.
Schu winked at us and set the glass of water down in front of the kid, who was still coughing lightly every few moments.
"Boys this is Phi-Ahn, one of Willy's new girls. Say hi, Phi-Ahn," Schu had chirped, giving her ass a squeeze.
She leaned forward and smiled, showing a set of teeth that was just slightly less than whole.
"Sucky-sucky, five dolla. Me love you long time," she said sweetly.
Schu guffawed. "Isn't that cute? I think that's the only thing she knows how to say in English, but hell, who needs a chick to say more than that?"
Farfarello laughed loudly and leaned back in his chair. "I'm not going to argue."
"Charming, Schuldich," I grumbled, swirling my whiskey around in the glass. Omi was too preoccupied with drinking his water to comment at all, and Fujimiya just glared coldly at the whole world.
Schu sat down, pulling the young woman into his lap. She sat there pertly, and put her arms around his neck. "Oh, GI," she cooed. Schu trailed his finger down her neck and blew on her ear.
"Get a room, Schu," I said, gagging slightly for effect.
"No way, it costs more!" he snapped. "Why should I pay ten dollars to get head upstairs when I can pay five and get it right here?"
At this Omi spit out his water and started coughing again. I whacked him on the back idly with one hand and glared at Schu. "You can't be serious. You're going to let her blow you in front... in front of everybody in here?"
Schu and Farfarello exchanged a glance and both shrugged. "Happens all the time. Hey, pilot, head's head. And I don't care where or how I get it. She'll be under the table. Hey, since this is your first time in Willy's I'll buy you and the kid a go," he said, as if that made everything better.
I was so taken aback by Schuldich's offer, that I couldn't even get my mouth open to decline before Fujimiya stood up abruptly, slamming his glass down on the table. "I'm going outside. Maybe when you are all done getting blown we can blow this place so we can get back to base and still get some sleep," he growled and then stalked away.
"Hey, Ranny, don't get your nose all out of joint, just cause I didn't offer to pay for you, too!" Schu called after him and then bust into laughter. Just then Willy came back with the second round of whiskeys. Omi, who seemed to be ignoring Schuldich altogether, stared into the bottom of his glass again with wide, fascinated eyes. I noticed that Ran hadn't finished his first whiskey. On an impulse I stood, poured the contents of his first glass into his second, did the same to mine, then took both glasses in hand and turned away from the table.
"Hey, Hidaka, where're you going?" Schu called after me.
"Outside. I'm not really in the mood to watch you get off, but thanks anyway."
The street was dark and empty, the air was humid, but slightly more tolerable with the lack of brain boiling sun. A few lamps flickered and guttered along the street. Somewhere a door slammed shut. I remember being thankful that there was a breeze. It blew up the street as if through a canyon, ruffling my hair and pulling at my jacket. I could see the Jeep parked in the middle of the street and Fujimiya leaning against it. He was smoking a cigarette, the butt glowing orange in the darkness, flaring brighter as he took a drag. I watched the smoke swirl in the air as I moved towards him.
Without saying a word I held his whiskey out to him and then sat on the hood of the Jeep, taking a sip of mine. Whether the kid had left when Ran returned or run off long before that, taking Schu's dollar with him, I wasn't sure. But in any case he was gone.
Ran eyed me for a few moments, but I couldn't read his face in the darkness. He took a sip of his whiskey and then another drag on his cigarette. "What are you doing out here?"
I shrugged and took another swig. "I dunno. I guess the thought of watching everyone get blow jobs from a toothless Vietnamese whore really didn't do it for me. And as far as I'm concerned head is not just head, so I figured I might as well keep you company."
He scoffed. "I don't remember particularly wanting any company."
I nodded my head, expecting his comment. "No, you wouldn't would you. Might compromise your carefully constructed 'wall of impenetrable ass- hole.' So sorry. I guess I forgot for a moment that you prefer being a bitter, cold, soulless individual." I took another swig of my whiskey.
I could feel his eyes burning as he glared at me. "You don't know anything about what it's like to be me."
I chuckled and swirled my whiskey. "Well, I guess that you're probably right. So let's have a pity part for you then, because obviously you must be the only guy who ever lost anyone or anything important to them. It must be so hard to be you, and be the only one." I shook my head and stared at him in mock sympathy.
Halfway expecting him to deck me I almost flinched when he finally spoke. "You are an arrogant, bastard, Hidaka. You have no idea what I have lost."
I thought about the picture of Yuushi and the letter. I thought about Canada and Kase and all the ironic shit that made up my life. Fujimiya thought I didn't know what it was like to lose, and that thought almost made me laugh hysterically. Part of me wanted to just break out and tell him exactly how much I understood, but I knew that it wouldn't do any good. Not now at least.
"You'd be surprised," I hissed.
It was obvious that he hadn't been expecting my reply. His eyes widened slightly, the coldness wavering for a moment. Then he turned his face away again and scoffed, taking another drag on his cigarette.
And then I -needed- to tell him. Without thinking I reached out and touched his arm, leaning towards him. He jerked, startled by the unexpected touch. Our eyes seemed to lock in the dimness of the street and for a moment I was lost in the endless intensity that I found there once again.
"Ran... listen, I... I want to tell you..," but my words and thoughts were cut off by a sudden crash from inside Willy Ng's.
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Afterthoughts: Ohohohohoho!! .... I really gotta get to writing the next part. And no worries. Nagi will be around shortly, if anyone was wondering. Review!!