For the few moments that I had been thinking about the fight, I actually
forgot about Nelson. Yes, I realize his problem is much more important than
a fight I am going to win, however, a man can only take on so much. Despite
the stereotypes I am labeled with, I happen to be one hundred percent
human.
"Are you ready, Father?" A much less testy Radar yawned as he lazily dragged my box of equipment into the mess tent-slash-boxing ring. I helped him slip into his gloves as I had the nagging urge to shake the dust off of my defense technique. I grabbed a hold of the pads and we began to move.
"Okay, now no matter what inhibitions you may have about striking a priest, I want you to put them aside for a while and give me your best shots, okay, Radar?"
"Wha--I dunno, sir." He bashfully dug his toe into the padded floor of the ring. I set down the pads for a moment and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"If I am expected," I began in my most kind voice, "to beat the daylights out of Major Burns, I need to make sure I can duck his punches, you do understand, don't you, my son?"
"Well yeah, but--..." he stammered. I sensed some effort not to giggle at the thought of a kindly priest punching out Major Burns. I myself am delighted at the thought.
"But you're afraid you might hurt me?" He hung his head and smiled, playfully swinging at my shoulder.
"That's it! Give me another!"
"Okay... I'm not promising you anything, though."
He swung like a natural champion. His blows were hard and direct, but he still hesitated enough for me to predict exactly what he was going to do. This wasn't going to be much help to me, as Major Burns is crazy and the norm is that crazy people are somewhat spontaneous.
"Why don't we trade places for a while, hmm?" He helped me with my gloves, took the pads and watched patiently as I shook the knots out of my muscles.
For the rest of the evening it went as such: I would strike, he would block, I would move, he would move. Pretty standard procedure sparring movements. I closed my eyes, yawned and stretched, then turned back around to see Radar curled up into the fetal position, sleeping soundly on Major Burns' death bed. It was about time to call it quits for the night.
I dragged my stuff back into my room expecting to take communion, say prayers and go to sleep. I thought that as two of the three were done I was free and clear to go to bed and lay awake for about eight hours (maybe six if I got restless), but as things usually happen in this unit, my plans were foiled.
I swore I heard a faint weeping, and I became more and more confident that it was just that as the sound came closer and closer. Into my tent and (embarrassingly so) my arms flew Sonar. Her green tear-filled eyes gleamed angrily as she moved away from me and sat on my bunk. She emitted sounds that were like those of a frustrated six year old.
I approached her carefully and pushed a brown strand out of her eyes, concentrating only on how I was about to involve myself in the problem.
"What on earth is wrong?" Is the only stupid thing that would dare come out of my mouth.
"I didn't mean to!" She cried.
"Mean to what, honey?"
"I walked into the showers and he was just hanging there..."
"Nelson?!"
"I didn't mean to!!!" She wouldn't let go of me now. She was cowering there and it was all I could do to even get up off the floor where she rolled off the bunk in hysterics.
"Just stay right here. Don't you dare move an inch, do you hear me?"
All she managed was a nod. I didn't take the time to watch anything else as I ran toward the showers. I crossed myself quickly and opened the shower door with care to find Nelson lying on the floor, gasping for precious breath...
"Are you ready, Father?" A much less testy Radar yawned as he lazily dragged my box of equipment into the mess tent-slash-boxing ring. I helped him slip into his gloves as I had the nagging urge to shake the dust off of my defense technique. I grabbed a hold of the pads and we began to move.
"Okay, now no matter what inhibitions you may have about striking a priest, I want you to put them aside for a while and give me your best shots, okay, Radar?"
"Wha--I dunno, sir." He bashfully dug his toe into the padded floor of the ring. I set down the pads for a moment and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"If I am expected," I began in my most kind voice, "to beat the daylights out of Major Burns, I need to make sure I can duck his punches, you do understand, don't you, my son?"
"Well yeah, but--..." he stammered. I sensed some effort not to giggle at the thought of a kindly priest punching out Major Burns. I myself am delighted at the thought.
"But you're afraid you might hurt me?" He hung his head and smiled, playfully swinging at my shoulder.
"That's it! Give me another!"
"Okay... I'm not promising you anything, though."
He swung like a natural champion. His blows were hard and direct, but he still hesitated enough for me to predict exactly what he was going to do. This wasn't going to be much help to me, as Major Burns is crazy and the norm is that crazy people are somewhat spontaneous.
"Why don't we trade places for a while, hmm?" He helped me with my gloves, took the pads and watched patiently as I shook the knots out of my muscles.
For the rest of the evening it went as such: I would strike, he would block, I would move, he would move. Pretty standard procedure sparring movements. I closed my eyes, yawned and stretched, then turned back around to see Radar curled up into the fetal position, sleeping soundly on Major Burns' death bed. It was about time to call it quits for the night.
I dragged my stuff back into my room expecting to take communion, say prayers and go to sleep. I thought that as two of the three were done I was free and clear to go to bed and lay awake for about eight hours (maybe six if I got restless), but as things usually happen in this unit, my plans were foiled.
I swore I heard a faint weeping, and I became more and more confident that it was just that as the sound came closer and closer. Into my tent and (embarrassingly so) my arms flew Sonar. Her green tear-filled eyes gleamed angrily as she moved away from me and sat on my bunk. She emitted sounds that were like those of a frustrated six year old.
I approached her carefully and pushed a brown strand out of her eyes, concentrating only on how I was about to involve myself in the problem.
"What on earth is wrong?" Is the only stupid thing that would dare come out of my mouth.
"I didn't mean to!" She cried.
"Mean to what, honey?"
"I walked into the showers and he was just hanging there..."
"Nelson?!"
"I didn't mean to!!!" She wouldn't let go of me now. She was cowering there and it was all I could do to even get up off the floor where she rolled off the bunk in hysterics.
"Just stay right here. Don't you dare move an inch, do you hear me?"
All she managed was a nod. I didn't take the time to watch anything else as I ran toward the showers. I crossed myself quickly and opened the shower door with care to find Nelson lying on the floor, gasping for precious breath...