After the Cecilias had finished having their way with him, they moved on, careful not to trample him.

Exhausted, Simon lay alone on the ground where they had ravaged him.  He struggled to decide whether he had just starred in the greatest porno movie ever, or the scariest horror movie.  In the end, he decided it might have been a combination of both.

"Boy, what are you doing laying about again?" the Colonel's stern voice arose from the darkness to shout at him.

"If I told you," Simon panted, "you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

A number of small, dusty gray clouds converged to form the Colonel again.  It didn't surprise Simon to see him make the exact same magical appearance a second time.  The man was definitely set in his ways.

"I just had sex with my girlfriend, like, a thousand times in a row."

"You're right, I don't believe you."  The Colonel glared at him for a minute, but then softened a bit.  "What's the little filly's name?"

"Cecilia."

"Hmm.  Pretty.  But you realize you're too young to be getting mixed up in all that nonsense, don't you?"

"Yeah.  I tried to stop her, but there was just no saying no to her."

"Boy, there you go again, blaming someone else for your own actions.  I don't want to hear it.  Sex is a two-way street.  You're just as guilty as she is."

"Why even bother trying to explain this one?" Simon wondered silently.

He decided to change the subject.  "Hey Colonel, there's something that's been bothering me almost all day."

"What's that, Grandson?"

"Before he left me, Morris asked me a question.  He asked if I had one wish for myself, what would I wish for?"

"And, what did you tell him?"

"That's the thing.  I haven't been able to come up with an answer.  Colonel, I honestly don't know what I want out of my life."

The Colonel pulled a chair out of thin air, spun it backwards, sat down, rested his hands atop the chair's back, and faced Simon.  "Son, I can't say that I'm surprised.  See, you lack direction.  Always have.  Your father has been too weak to guide you down the path that you were so obviously destined to travel."

Simon furrowed his brow.  "And, what path might that be?"

"Why, the military, of course."

Simon's diaphragm contracted involuntarily, causing him to snort.  "Oh, please.  You're kidding, right?"

"No, sir.  You've got the smarts and the good health, and that's really all you need.  They'll condition you for the physical strength, and they'll teach you the mental toughness and discipline.  And boy, you could obviously use a good dose of discipline.  It's clearly been lacking from your father's house for several years, at least."

"Colonel, I don't think the military would be a good fit for me.  I mean, I have no desire whatsoever to fire a gun or drive a tank or do any of that stuff."

"Boy, is that all you think the military is about?  There's so much more to it than just that.  You can learn construction, or computer programming, or just about any field you want to learn.  And you can do it all while knowing that you're playing an integral part in protecting the freedom of this great nation.  And I ask you, Simon, what more could you want out of life than that?"

"I…don't know."

"So could you come up with a better answer to Morris's question than that?  Wouldn't it give your seemingly aimless, pointless life some direction and meaning?  Take your time.  Think about it."

Simon thought for a minute and said, "My father thinks he gets more out of life by spreading the word of God and the message of Christ."

"Does he really?  Then why hasn't he been back to the church in months?"

"Well, uh, he…" Simon stammered.

"He knows, Simon.  He knows he should have followed the path I laid down for him.  And now it's all coming back to bite him in the ass.  You just think about it, Simon.  Think about the military.  Think long and hard, because I really think you'd be a good fit."

Simon tried to picture himself in camouflage fatigues, leading men across a field, overseeing them as they lay down a bridge for a tank to cross a stream, and the tank crossed the stream just fine but then it hit a mine on the other side and it blew up and it was his fault because if he had read his coordinates right they were really supposed to lay the bridge down a fifth of a mile upstream and if he hadn't screwed up those soldiers in that tank would still be alive right now and unlike when he got drunk at the party or ate the spiked brownies people other than him got hurt and even killed this time and it had been his responsibility nobody else's but his.

Tears flooded his eyes and he whispered, "I'd screw it up.  I can't handle that kind of pressure.  I can't do it, Colonel.  I just can't."

The Colonel stood up from his chair and said, "Well, now I think you need to join the military more than I ever did before.  'Can't' this, 'can't' that.  They'll train that word 'can't' right out of your body."

Simon shook his head and said repeatedly, "No.  No."

The Colonel walked over to the boy and patted his head gently.  "OK, Simon.  There's time yet for you to change your mind.  Just promise me you'll keep thinking about it."

Simon said nothing.

After the awkward silence had passed, the Colonel piped up again.  "Well, I bet you'd like to get out of this god-forsaken desert and go back home, wouldn't you?"

Simon nodded eagerly, while also trying to inhale all the moisture in his nose and wipe away all the tears from his eyes.

"To get home, all you have to do is climb that," the Colonel said, pointing to the giant tree whose branches were now almost completely stripped of their condoms.

"That tree?  But Colonel, it's huge.  I can't…"

"Ah!  There's that word 'can't' again, Camden.  I don't want to hear it.  We're going to run this like a military drill, like the rope climb.  I'll be down here barking at you like a drill sergeant, and you'll climb that thing like nobody's business."

Simon still felt rather weary from his sexcapades with the Cecilias, but the promise of getting home again was incentive enough to prompt him to agree.  "Alright.  I'll try."

"That's the spirit, Private.  Now get over there and climb.  Go on!"

Simon ran to the tree and found foothold after foothold, making his way up the trunk inch by inch.  It proved to be a fairly difficult climb.  Halfway up he actually found himself wishing he had a few dozen Cecilias handy to make a human tower, the way they had done earlier to reach condoms on some of the upper branches.  But gradually, after a great deal of effort and an even greater deal of barking from the Colonel, Simon made it to the top branch of the tree.  "I did it!"

"Yes, you did, Grandson.  Yes, you did."

And then exhaustion passed over Simon like a cloud's shadow, and he lost his grip on the branch.

"I don't believe it.  I'm going to die from falling out of a condom tree.  How many different bizarre ways can I brush death today?"

But before Simon could drop all the way to the ground, his fall was broken by a rough, slanted surface.  And that, after his many adventures and tumbles and spills that day, was where he finally lost consciousness.