1. Celia Cruz was a Cuban singer. She was very popular in both Cuba and the US. She was active from 1948 up until she died in 2003.
2. Marjorie Finlay was an opera singer during the 1950s and 1960s. She mostly rose to fame in Puerto Rico, starring as the mistress of ceremonies for the popular TV show El Show Pan-Americano (The Pan American Show) on APA-TV in Santurce, Puerto Rico. She was also the maternal grandmother to Taylor Swift.
3. Polish translation: Witaj Karol: Hello, Chuck. Cześć mamo: hi there, mom. mały chłopiec: baby boy. baby: Dziecko. babcia: grandma Kocham cię synu: I love you, son. Też cię kocham mamo: I love you too, mom. Do zobaczenia wkrótce: see you soon.
4. 'Karol' is the Polish variation for Charles or Chuck.
5. The 26th of July Movement was later reformed along Marxist–Leninist lines, becoming the Communist Party of Cuba in October 1965. Cuba has been communist since.
6. Häagen-Dazs is an American ice cream brand established by Reuben and Rose Mattus in The Bronx, New York, in 1960.
7. In 1853, the foundations of modern-day foster care were established.
8. While it is legal now in many states, such as New Jersey and California, marijuana was illegal in the 60s and was punishable with "a minimum sentence of 2-10 years with a fine of up to $20,000.
9. Lavender haze was an old term used in the 1950s and 1960s to describe when you were really in love.
10. A Bay Stater is what someone from Massachusetts is called.
11. Don Rickles and George Carlin were two of the best comedians of the time.
*GC*
A new week started on the base, and on the outside drove a taxi cab, letting out a beautiful brunette with hair that met her trim waistline and the greenest eyes anyone could get lost in. She was dressed in a red skirt suit, red shoes, and white gloves while holding a black Chanel clutch. Her hair was down, adorned in a white hairband. Some men standing close to the gate stopped what they were doing, taking in the sight of a beautiful woman outside the base. She opened her clutch, handing the cab driver his fee.
"Thank you." She said.
"You're welcome, Miss." The cab driver replied as he took the money.
She walked towards the gate, letting the MP know she was there for an interview at the infirmary, and at that point, he had let her in. As she walked the base, she noticed how the men were looking at her, some making comments, others giving the wolf whistle. She was aware of what was happening as she rolled her eyes.
"Imbecilic neanderthals," she grumbled to herself.
Spotting Gomer walking, she figured he was one of the few she could trust and walked over to him.
"Excuse me, do you know where I may be able to find the infirmary? I have a job interview there in an hour," she explained. "I would ask one of the other men to help me, but as you can see...you can't tame horn dogs."
"Why yes, I do, Miss! I can walk you over if you like?" Gomer offered.
"Please? I would ask my steady if he were here, but you seem like the first trustworthy man on this base."
"Golly, if you don't mind me asking, who is your steady?" Gomer asked.
"Oh, he's a Marine Private on this base. If I told you his name, you might know him as Gilbert Slater. He goes by Duke to his friends, but I call him 'Gilbert.' I don't think he likes it." the woman chuckled.
"Yes, I know, Duke!" Gomer replied ecstatically, realizing, "Why, you must be Duke's girlfriend! You're Alana!"
"Well yes, sir! Alana Jane Frasier! A pleasure." Alana extended her hand out to Gomer. "You must be Gomer Pyle?"
"How did you know?" Gomer replied as he shook Alana's hand.
"He's only told me so much about you," Alana answered Gomer. "I take it he's talked about me?"
"Oh, your all he ever talks about. I can tell he loves you very much." Gomer explained to Alana. "Glory be, you are as pretty as a sunny Valentine's Day! Now I don't know if anyone ever told you this, but you is much more beautiful than in your photos."
Alana blushed, replying, "You are so sweet! Gilbert speaks quite highly of you. Where is he?"
"He's actually on the rifle range. Would you like to wait for..."
"Oh no, he has no idea I'm here. You see, I heard they were hiring at the infirmary on the base, so I applied for a nurse position, but I want to surprise him if I am to be hired." Alana chuckled.
"Well, I'm sure he'll be surprised either way," Gomer added cheerfully. "Come on, Miss Alana, let me walk you to the infirmary."
"Of course." Alana took Gomer's arm as he walked with her to the base hospital.
"So, tell me about yourself, Miss Alana? Duke only told me a little, but I'd like to hear more from you."
The New York beauty chuckled, asking Gomer, "What has he told you about me?"
"Well, I can't speak for Duke, but he told me you love red velvet cake, you are gorgeous, smart, and a nurse...he calls you his New York Rose, but I don't think I was supposed to say that."
Gomer's explanation made Alana chuckle lightly, "That's Gilbert for you."
Gomer made a bashful smile at the beautiful New Yorker.
"But, yes, I'm from New York, but I moved out for nursing school, and now I work at the children's hospital. My mother wanted me to stay in Long Island and become a housewife like my sister, Jacqueline, but I followed my own path, so...here I am."
"Oh...you're from an island? I thought you said you was from New York?" Gomer was now confused, which only made Alana giggle some more.
"No, sweetie. Long Island is a part of New York." It was until Alana realized she was confusing the Private. "Oh my gosh, I'm puzzling you. I'm so sorry."
"No need to apologize, Miss Alana. Although I will admit, I do get frazzled from time to time." Gomer admitted.
"Okay, let me explain better..." Alana corrected herself, "You see, New York has five boroughs: Manhattan, Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and Staten Island. Four out of those five boroughs are all islands. Long Island is west of Queens, which is more residential and suburban. But you hit it right on the mark the first time; I am from an island. I was born in the Bahamas, while my sister, and two older brothers, Walter and Nathaniel, were all born in New York. We're all New York-raised."
"Golly...this whole time, I thought New York was just a city. I'm so happy I know that now. I ain't never been to New York. One day, I hope I get to go." Gomer said to Alana.
"I'm pretty sure you'll get the chance to see it. Just stick with me." Alana teased.
"Did you always live in New York?" Gomer asked Alana.
"On and off. We have our house in Long Island, but my family has moved around a lot because Daddy's business makes him travel a lot, so sometimes, we just up and leave. My favorite place that I've ever lived was Cuba. Now to think about it, I've lived on more islands than most people I know."
Impressed, Gomer let out, "Shazam! I ain't never been to Cuba, but mine and Duke's good buddy, Robert Perez, does play Miss Celia Cruz in the barracks sometimes. He has some family in Puerto Rico and some in Cuba."
Alana sighed, saying, "I'm telling you, Gomer, before Castro took over, there was no place like Cuba! Cafe con Leche on the balcony in the morning, shopping in downtown Havana, the beaches, the food, the music...it was the best. My parents were all about the casinos and the nightlife. Sadly, we had to leave before it got worse. So in 1956, after I turned 16, we up and left for West Germany. The weather was much cooler than Cuba, but living in Cuba and Germany helped me brush up on my Spanish and German."
"Goodness! I don't think I've ever met someone who can speak more than one language. I know Corporal Boyle speaks Polish, and Robert speaks Spanish, but other than that, no one else I know can speak two. I don't even know much about West Germany either...but I do enjoy the Häagen-Dazs ice cream." Gomer mentioned, smiling.
"Gomer, I'm pretty sure Häagen-Dazs is American ice cream," Alana stated.
Frowning, Gomer said in response, "Well, I could've sworn it was German."
The New York beauty shook her head, chuckling, then decided to turn the subject around, "Okay, enough about me now; tell me about you! From what I can gather, you are a country boy due to your polite mannerisms; you are a Private in the Marines; you are a friend of Gilbert's...what is it that I don't know about you yet, Mr. Gomer Pyle?"
Gomer blushed at Alana, "I'm from Mayberry, North Carolina. It's a small town."
"You know, Daddy stayed at the Mayberry Hotel while doing business in Raleigh," Alana told her new friend. "He did say that it was small but quaint and that he couldn't get over how friendly everyone is; he enjoyed himself there. I'd love to visit one day."
"It really and truly is, Miss Alana! You should see the street fair in the springtime! Everyone is just out and about! If you want to try the best ice cream sodas, Walker's Drug Store makes the best ones! I like the Bluebird Cafe's sodas, but they ain't as good as Walker's Drug Store. Also, you would have to meet Miss Bee one day; she cooks the best suppers in all of Mayberry!" Gomer gloated about his hometown.
"Do you have family there?" Alana asked, genuinely wanting to get to know Gomer.
"Just Grandma Pyle and Cousin Goober. Daddy and Grandpa Pyle have sadly passed on." Gomer explained to Alana.
"Oh, my condolences," Alana spoke with sincerity in her voice.
"Thank you. I do miss them every day, but I know they would want me to be happy."
"I think that's all that matters."
"It does. When you and Duke decide to go to Mayberry, let me know when. I can tell you which places to eat and where to fish, and I can even introduce you to Sheriff Taylor."
The New Yorker chuckled, "It already sounds wonderful. You know, according to Gilbert, he says you can sure carry a tune. I hear you are singing for an upcoming banquet?"
"Oh yes. I was asked to sing. I didn't come to the Marines to be a singer, but when they ask me to sing, I am more than happy to do so, especially for General Prescott since he's such a friendly man. Did you know he was there when I helped deliver a baby? I was supposed to pick him up, and I ended up takin' some poor expectin' daddy to the hospital, where his wife was about to give birth to her first child."
"Pretty impressive," Alana replied to Gomer's story. "We could use you in the maternity ward."
"Oh, well..." Gomer blushed, "I ain't no expert in deliverin' them little ones into the world."
"Not what I heard." Alana teased. "Gilbert told me you were one of the most proficient in his platoon. What is it he said you could do...bake a cake, sing your heart out, quite an asset to the motor pool with the best driving record, you've delivered babies...I don't know many who are as conversant, Mr. Gomer Pyle."
Gomer couldn't help but blush when Alana praised him. Deciding to change the topic, Gomer asked, "So, how did you and Duke meet? He told me his side, but I'd like to hear your version."
The New York beauty chuckled, "I was working the night shift one night when my friend, Millie, asked me to switch tasks with her. She said two Marines came into the children's hospital because one of them had a broken nose, and our hospital happened to be the closest hospital they could get to. Since Millie has had her share of Marines, Sailors, and Soldiers, I decided to take over for her since I know how to handle service men, meeting Gilbert in the process. He had asked for my phone number that night, but we didn't start talking until three weeks after the fact. Our first date was dinner at my place, where he made me laugh with impressions of Don Rickles, George Carlin, and for whatever reason, all Three Stooges."
Gomer laughed at Alana's story, to which she replied with a giggle, "It worked! Gilbert's quite the charmer."
"That he is, Miss Alana," Gomer responded. "You know, he does the best impressions in the barracks."
"Oh, does he now?" Alana looked up at Gomer, who grinned in response.
"Gosh, you two must be in love."
"I would say the lavender haze is better to describe it."
"The lavender what?" Gomer asked, not ever heard that expression before.
"That means when someone is really in love; they are in the lavender haze."
Once they got to the infirmary, Gomer said, "Well, here we are! I hope you pass that interview, Miss Alana."
"Thank you for walking me," Alana said to Gomer.
At that moment, Katie walked by, heading into the infirmary, "Why hello, Gomer! It's always a surprise to see you."
"Hey there, Nurse Katie! What a surprise indeed!" Gomer cheerfully greeted. "Did you just see Corporal Boyle?"
"No, I'm just getting into work. " Katie responded, smiling at the sweet Private.
"Have you met Miss Alana?" Gomer asked.
"We have, on a night out with Chuck and Duke. How are you?" Katie asked Alana.
"Doing well. It's so great to see you again, Katie. I have a job interview with the infirmary today, but Gilbert doesn't know about it." Alana eyed Gomer, smirking. "Gomer was sweet enough to escort me."
"Oh, well...we have a wonderful group of nurses that work here. Since I'm the head nurse, I'd love to have you on the team." Katie stated. "Plus, Dr. Kreziler is great!"
"He's German, you know," Gomer mentioned. "Did you know Miss Alana speaks German? She's lived in West Germany for four years!" Gomer spoke.
"That's great to know! Honestly, we could use someone who can understand Dr. Kreziler. If you come inside, I'll show you around and introduce you to the other nurses?" Katie asked.
"That will be wonderful! To be truthful, I need a change of scenery from the children's hospital. I love the children but can take only so much of them." Alana answered, then turned to the Private, "Gomer, thank you so much for walking me!"
"It's been a pleasure doin' so," Gomer stated. "Oh my gosh! All this socializing, I almost forgot I have to rehearse in the auditorium! Nurse Katie, can you please take over?"
"Of course, sweetie." Katie answered before leading Alana inside, "Come on, Alana. You have to meet the nurses. We can also talk about Chuck and Duke before you get interviewed."
Alana and Gomer both laughed.
"See you hopefully very soon!" Alana waved to Gomer right before he walked off.
As Gomer turned around, Alana called, "Oh, Gomer?"
The Private stopped to face her, "Gilbert doesn't know we met."
"Of course." Gomer grinned.
The two nurses grinned at Gomer before going inside the infirmary while Gomer went on his way. The sweet Private beamed to himself, knowing he had made a new friend in Alana. Meanwhile, as the women were alone, Katie said to Alana, "Isn't he so sweet."
"He's adorably sweet," Alana responded.
"Between us, he's seeing his Sergeant. Don't say anything." Katie whispered to Alana
"Oh please, who am I going to tell?" Alana rolled her eyes.
*GC*
As he sat alone in the duty hut, Carter decided to put his art supplies to use again when the phone rang.
"Damn it," he whispered as he placed his paintbrush down and picked up the phone. "Company B, Sergeant Carter speaking."
"Hello, this is Agnes Boyle. Is my son, Corporal Charles Boyle, available?" the other voice asked.
"Oh, hello there, Mrs. Boyle. Corporal Boyle is actually..."
Right when Boyle walked in with a stack of papers in his arms, Boyle made a face as if he was asking who was on the phone. Carter replied, "Never mind, he's right here," and handed the phone to Boyle, "Your mother."
"My mother?" Boyle took the phone, putting it to his ear, "Company B, Corporal Boyle speaking?"
Once she heard her only child's voice, Agnes cried over the other line, "Witaj Karol!"
"Cześć mamo!" Boyle smiled over the phone. "How are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm so wonderful, dziecko. It's great to hear from you as well. I wanted to check on you. Are you eating?"
"Yes, mom, I'm eating." Boyle rolled his eyes.
Carter couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. In times like these, the Corporal was very grateful Carter didn't hear his mother calling him his childhood pet names or understand Polish, for that matter.
"I bet the food there isn't as good as mine or babcia's." Agnes chuckled over the other line.
"You know, it's funny you mention that because I was craving babcia's kalbasa and grandma's corn beef and cabbage the other day." Boyle chuckled. "God, I miss them both. No one else here can cook like them."
"I miss both your grandmothers too, son. But I do have some wonderful news." Agnes gushed.
"Oh yeah, what's that?" Boyle asked, curious about his mother's good news.
"Your father and I brought a house over in Long Beach Island, and your father paid it in cash."
The Corporal's expression turned to excitement, "Wow, that's great, mom! How is dad, by the way?"
"He's wonderful! He's down at the new house right now, working on it, but I will tell him you say hello." Agnes gushed. "Oh, Karol, I hope you can take a leave and visit one day! We live only a few minutes from the beach, and it's so lovely."
"It sounds nice." Boyle grinned, eying his Sergeant, who smiled in return. "I will certainly look into a furlough to visit you two."
You can even bring this wonderful girl you have mentioned in your letters! What did you say her name was?" Agnes asked.
"Her name's Kathryn, and she's a nurse on the base."
"Wow, a nurse! You don't say? Oh, I'm excited to meet her!" Agnes gushed.
"Yeah, she wants to meet you too, mom. You'll love her." Boyle smiled.
"From what you described, I already do." Agnes joked, making her son laugh. "Did you tell her you love her? Please tell me you told her you love her." Agnes was persistent.
"Mom, please!" Boyle cried out while a blush appeared on his face, causing Carter to laugh.
"Oh, son, I'm just teasing you." Agnes joked, making her son laugh. "Listen, dziecko, I must go because I need to pack all this stuff to move into the new house. Can't you believe this isn't the same neighborhood we raised you in? It's getting worse and worse every day."
"Then it's time for a change, mom. Hopefully, you can visit the base."
"I promise I'm taking the first plane to see you once we get settled in. I also want to meet that Sergeant of yours."
"You will." Boyle eyed Carter as he said that, making his Sergeant give him a perplexed expression.
"You take care, son. Kocham cię synu."
"Też cię kocham mamo...do zobaczenia wkrótce." Boyle replied, right before hanging up the phone.
"What was that all about?" Carter asked as he walked over to the coffee station and prepared himself a cup of fresh coffee.
"Nothing, my mom wants to come and visit the base sometime after she and my dad settle into their new house."
"No kidding! They brought a new house? Good for them!" Carter expressed his genuine excitement for Boyle's parents while walking back to his chair and taking a seat. "Where they livin' now?"
"Long Beach Island. Thank God because the Bronx was startin' to get pretty rough from what they told me. Hopefully, the change of scenery will do them good." Boyle stated. "They brought the house in cash; can't you believe it?"
"That's nuts!" Carter chuckled. "So when is she coming?"
"In a couple of months, right after they get everything settled in the new house. She wants to meet you too." Boyle stated.
"Should I be worried?" Carter joked as he made a couple of strokes on his painting.
"Nah, she's harmless. Just picture a Polish woman in her early 60s, bringing over a container of her homemade jelly doughnuts as a welcome gift." Boyle chuckled.
Carter laughed, "How thoughtful of her."
The Corporal smiled back, turning to remove his cap and opening up his locker to place it back inside. When he shut the door, Boyle turned back to Carter, "That painting looks good. Is it of anything in particular?"
"It's supposed to be the mountains from when I was in Korea, but I might start over on it. I don't like how it looks so far." Carter replied.
"Take your time on it. It'll be fine." Boyle then changed the topic by saying, "So, I hear Gomer is starting rehearsals today for the General's birthday?"
"Yep," Carter replied. "Colonel Grey said General Prescott wanted the best singer on the base, and Pyle was the first one in mind, so he's singing alright."
"Do you know what he's singing?" Boyle asked.
"How the hell should I know? All I know is that he's singing." Carter chuckled.
Boyle smirked, then took a seat, lighting up a cigar, "Well...they did pick the best singer, that's for sure."
"That I would know." Carter responded, putting down his brush, "You know, Boyle, I can't get over how much more relaxed I feel since getting with Pyle."
"You look ten years younger, Serge," Boyle replied.
"I feel ten years younger," Carter added. "I don't know about you, but maybe a change of scenery is what I needed...more than your folks."
"What do you mean?" Boyle was confused.
"Instead of being with a woman, I was meant to be with a man," Carter stated.
"Oh, of course." Boyle chuckled.
"Boyle, if you get to know Gomer the way I have, you'll see he isn't that nitwit I was making him out to be. He's incredible...he's proved me wrong in more ways than I could count. Just being around him...I don't know...I feel more relaxed with him than with anyone else I'd been with. There was a reason things with those dames didn't work out."
"It's funny how things fall into place, Vince," Boyle replied.
"It is. I don't know about you, but personally...this falling in love nonsense is stressful, that's for sure." Carter chuckled, not realizing what he had just said.
The Corporal looked up, slightly taken aback, "Wait...Serge...did you say..."
"Say what?" The Sergeant looked up.
"Uh...never mind, don't feel stressed, Vince, okay?" Boyle replied.
Carter made a face at Boyle, then returned to his painting.
"Before I forget, Dombrowski wanted me to tell you that we have a temporary Sergeant coming in today," Boyle spoke.
"That soon? Hacker hasn't been gone that long, but okay." Carter joked, making Boyle chuckle. "Thanks for the heads up, Boyle."
"Anytime, Serge," Boyle replied.
As Carter returned to his painting, Boyle eyed him, thinking, 'I hope he realizes what he said moments ago...'
*GC*
"So this is the motor pool where we take our jeeps and other vehicles to get repaired. Camp Henderson is known to have the best auto mechanics, Sergeant Harris." Lieutenant Mayer, an attractive middle-aged man with graying hair, spoke to Sergeant Brandon Harris, a tall, blonde, muscular man walking side by side with him.
"Camp Hamilton had its fair share of skilled mechanics, but nothing like this." Sergeant Harris responded with a chuckle.
"Most auto mechanics have had experience before entering the service. Our best mechanic is rehearsing for General Prescott's birthday party next month in the rehearsal hall. Although it's a closed rehearsal, would you like to check out our stage?"
"Of course. I want to know the base before officially becoming a temporary Sergeant."
That said, Lieutenant Mayer walked Sergeant Harris to the theater where rehearsals were taking place. As they walked over, several Privates saluted their Lieutenant. Once the two got to the theater, they walked in on Gomer singing 'Cara Mia' as another Private played the piano. Lieutenant Mayer smiled, saying, "So this is where we have our shows that take place here on the base. We also use this space to rehearse. As you can see, Private Pyle here is the Marine I was talking about. He will be performing at the General's birthday party."
As the two watched Gomer sing, Brandon found himself in a trance, looking at Gomer as he sang his heart out. Brandon smiled to himself, getting lost in the music.
"Sergeant Harris...Sergeant Harris?" Lieutenant Mayer spoke up.
Brandon turned to Lieutenant Mayer, shaking out of his thoughts, "Huh...oh, sorry, Lieutenant. I got lost listening to the Private."
"Yeah, Pyle has that effect on people when he sings." Lieutenant Mayer joked. "Now I will show you..."
"Lieutenant Mayer, can I speak to you for a moment?" one of the men in the rehearsal hall spoke to the Lieutenant.
"Oh, okay..." Lieutenant Mayer replied before turning to Brandon, "Excuse me, Sergeant Harris."
Brandon stayed behind as Lieutenant Mayer walked off and watched Gomer and the other Private take a quick break.
"Hey, Gomer, I'm going to use the bathroom quickly." The piano player told Gomer.
"Take your time, Joey. I'll be lookin' over this here music," Gomer replied as he took a seat on the edge of the stage.
Brandon took it upon himself and approached the sweet Private, "That's the best singing I've heard in a long while."
Gomer looked up to see a blonde man he'd never met before walking towards the stage. He smiled and replied, "Golly gee, thank you. I didn't know anyone else was here. When I start singing, I forget where I am."
"Well, maybe I can qualify as your practice audience." Brandon joked as he took a seat on the stage.
The Private sat beside him, "I say you're a pretty good practice audience. It does get nerve-wrackin', especially havin' to sing in front of a bunch of people I barely know. I barely even noticed that you were here."
"Nah, you'll be fine. I can tell just by watching you that you're a natural." Brandon told Gomer, making the Private blush. "You know, while you were singing, it just made me think of my trip to Puerto Rico a while back with a buddy of mine. One night, we caught a dinner show and outwalked this dame with the best pipes on her. Marjorie Finlay was her name. Have you heard of her?"
"Not that I know?" Gomer replied. "She sure sounds wonderful, though. I was told Puerto Rico had the best view of the stars on the beach, accordin' to what my good buddy says; he has family over there."
"That's very much so true. From where I stayed, I got a full view of the stars. You could practically play connect the dots from the beach."
The sweet Private giggled just before he looked down at his sheet music; Brandon then spoke again, "What's your name, Private?
"Private Gomer Pyle," Gomer replied happily, looking up at the blonde Sergeant. "And you are?"
"Sergeant Brandon Kiefer Harris of Camp Hamilton, but most people call me Brandon; I'm not too big on formalities. I'm a transfer temp for Sergeant Charlie Hacker while he's in retraining." Brandon explained.
This made Gomer happy that he met a new face at Camp Henderson.
"Well, for goodness sake! I heard a new Sergeant was comin' in, but I didn't expect to meet him today. How excitin', how excitin', how excitin'!"
Brandon chuckled at Gomer's enthusiasm.
"Although I won't lie, I have never heard anyone talk the way you do," Gomer admitted.
"What? You've never heard of the Boston accent?" Brandon teased.
"You're from Boston? Well, for goodness sake, I ain't never been to Boston." Gomer explained.
Brandon nodded his head, adding, "Born and raised. The accent never left, though, not even during my years in the Marines."
"Lordy, Lordy..." was all Gomer muttered. "You know, I've been outside Mayberry only when I joined the Marines. I ain't ever been outside Mayberry. It's funny how a whole other world is out there, different from the ones you're used to."
"Well...if I ever decided to go back to Boston," Brandon spoke, "maybe you can come along with me? We could see a Red Sox game and...I could use a buddy to go back home with."
"That sounds splendid," Gomer replied, not understanding Brandon's come-on.
The Bostonian Sergeant smiled at Gomer, then changed the subject, "So, tell me, Private...are you..."
At that moment, Lieutenant Mayer walked back inside the rehearsal hall, catching Gomer and Brandon off guard.
"Ah, I see you are getting acquainted with Private Pyle, Sergeant Harris?" Lieutenant Mayer observed.
"Yes, sir, you can say that," Brandon smirked at Gomer, who, in return, gave an adorable bashful smile.
"Well, that's wonderful to hear. Sergeant Harris, shall we continue our tour of Camp Henderson before meeting the other Sergeants in charge?" Lieutenant Mayer asked.
"Of course, Lieutenant." Brandon answered, "Private Pyle, I hope to see you around the base. Have I lucked out and met one of the men in my temporary assignment?"
"Oh no, sir. I'm in Company B. Sergeant Hacker's platoon is Company C. But don't fret; you will see me in the mess hall from time to time." Gomer reassured Brandon. "Sometimes, they call me to help out in the kitchen."
"Well, let's hope it doesn't have to come to that, but just meeting up as good pals." Brandon turned to Lieutenant Mayer, "I'm ready when you are?"
As the two men walked out of the rehearsal hall, Gomer saw Joey walk back in. Joey sat down at the piano, speaking, "Who was that with the Lieutenant?"
"Oh, that's the new Sergeant. He's from Camp Hamilton."
Joey said, "I wonder if he transferred because of the suicide there?"
Confused, Gomer asked, "W...what suicide?"
Looking up at Gomer, Joey explained, "What? You didn't hear? Some guy back in Camp Hamilton killed himself. It was in the base newspaper."
"Oh, how awful!" Gomer responded to the story, completely horrified.
"Yeah..." Joey replied.
The two were silent for a few moments before Joey said, "Um...do you want to rehearse 'Cara Mia' again, or did you want to do another song?"
Gomer looked through the music in his folder, finding the sheet music to Roy Orbison's song, 'In Dreams,' then suggested, "I wanted to try singin' 'In Dreams,' if you wouldn't mind?"
"Sure, Gome. You know, we have till the week before the party to choose three songs, followed by The Halls of Montezuma," Joey mentioned.
"I know that, Joey. But we have enough time." Gomer stated with a smile.
*GC*
After showing Brandon around, Lieutenant Mayer introduced the new Sergeant to Colonel Grey.
"Well, it's a pleasure meeting you, Sergeant Harris." Colonel Grey spoke.
"Brandon. I'm not big on formalities." Brandon joked.
Colonel Grey chuckled, responding with, "Of course. Just step into my office. If you wait a moment, I have to discuss some personal details with Lieutenant Mayer, and then I will be back. The other Sergeants will be here shortly."
"Right, Colonel," Brandon replied.
Once the other two higher-ups were out of sight, Brandon had time to look around the Colonel's office. From looking at the photos to the certificates on the wall, his eyes wandered to the bookshelf, where he came across the yearbook of Camp Henderson. Picking it up, he flipped through the pages, finally coming across Company B's section. The first photos he saw were of Carter and Boyle looking distinguished in their dress blues. As he turned the page, he saw Gomer's picture. As he stared at it, he saw how different the sweet Private looked compared to meeting him in person. Like his platoon mates, he was dressed in his blues, staring straight-faced and handsome, while his eyes looked off to the side.
A couple of seconds later, Colonel Grey walked back into his office, finding Brandon placing the yearbook back on the shelf. When Brandon turned around, he saw the Colonel walking inside, "Oh, forgive me, Colonel. I was looking at the yearbook for the camp."
"No worries. I know what it's like to be curious." Colonel Grey spoke as he sat at his desk. "When I was a Corporal, I went through my Colonel's bookshelf looking at the yearbook."
"Right." Brandon chuckled.
"Anyway, the other Sergeants have been notified and will be here shortly to meet you. I want you to feel welcome, Sergeant Harris. We greatly appreciate you coming to the base." Colonel Grey spoke with sincerity.
"I appreciate it, Colonel," Brandon responded.
A few moments later, the other Sergeants, except Carter, walked into Colonel Grey's office. Not wanting to wait five more minutes, Colonel Grey spoke up, "Well, since we can't wait on..."
"Sorry, Colonel," Carter said, walking into the Colonel's office. "One of my men held me up with..."
That moment Carter looked up, only to be greeted by a familiar face, "Brandon Harris?"
"Vincent Carter?"
The Colonel became bewildered, "Hold on...you two know each other?"
"We were in the same platoon back in Korea," Carter answered his Colonel. "Just didn't think I'd see you here."
"Likewise, Vince." Brandon plastered a smile.
Carter disregarded Brandon's pleasantries, getting in line with his fellow Sergeants. Colonel Grey continued, "Now that I have all the Sergeants present, I would like to introduce you to Sergeant Brandon Harris from Camp Hamilton, New York. He will be with us while Sergeant Hacker is out. I expect each one of you to make him feel welcome. Sergeant Harris will be in charge of the mess hall while he is on the base."
As Carter listened to his Colonel speak, he couldn't help but look at Brandon, starting to get a bad feeling about his presence at Camp Henderson. Lost in translation, Colonel Grey broke Carter out of his thoughts, saying, "Sergeant Carter, are you okay?"
"Huh...oh yes, sorry, sir." Carter chuckled nervously.
Making a face of confusion, the Colonel nodded his head, continuing to speak, "So, Sergeant Harris, now that you've met the other Sergeants, I will take it upon one of the men in Company C to show you around town. You must become familiar with your new surroundings while assigned here."
"If you don't mind me asking, Colonel," Brandon spoke, "can I request that Private I met earlier in the rehearsal hall? The one who sings? I'd like him to show me around. I trust something about him and like that in a man."
Upon hearing that, Carter now had a funny feeling come over him. Why does Brandon want Gomer to show him around?
"Oh...okay. Then it's settled. Sergeant Carter, if you could arrange that, I would be greatly appreciative." Colonel Great said happily.
"Uh...I don't know, sir." Carter spoke, attempting to hide the reluctance in his voice, "I believe I have Pyle on a work detail when he gets out of rehearsal."
"Oh...well, I don't see why another man can't take over. Maybe Private Slater or Private Mulligan could take over." Colonel Grey spoke. "I'm sure you can arrange another to take over while Private Pyle shows Sergeant Harris around?"
"I...well...of course, sir. I can arrange that." Carter answered, feeling defeated.
"Good, then it's settled. Sergeant Carter, please have Private Pyle meet Sergeant Harris by the Officer's Quarters later at 5. Until then, Sergeant Harris, I will leave you to settle in your temporary quarters. Corporal Jenson should help you get settled. If you have any questions, feel free to ask him."
"Will do, Colonel, and thank you, Sergeant Carter, for loaning one of your men," Brandon smirked.
Carter didn't say anything in reply.
"Dismissed." Colonel Grey said as he released the other men.
As the other men were leaving, Colonel Grey called Carter back, "Sergeant Carter, please stay. I want to speak to you."
"Yes, sir," Carter replied.
Once the room cleared, Carter closed the door, turning to face his Colonel.
"What can I do you for, Colonel?" Carter asked.
"Sergeant Carter, as much as I understand and support the extent of your's and Private Pyle's relationship, I couldn't help but notice you were letting your personal feelings for Private Pyle get in the way."
"Well, it isn't that, sir," Carter spoke with sincerity in his voice.
"Is that so?" Colonel Grey leaned into his desk, curious to know what Carter meant, "Would you mind explaining to me?"
"As you see, sir, I've known Brandon Harris since my days in Korea. Since then, I haven't had a good feeling about him; he has always come off as pretty odd to me."
"Do you care to explain what you find off about him?" Colonel Grey asked.
"Uh...well...I don't know how to explain it. It's just my intuition. I've never trusted him, and I sure don't trust him around one of my men. I want to speak up on behalf of the camp that Brandon Harris shouldn't be here. I believe he is a danger to the corp."
"Sergeant Carter, I understand your concerns. However, I can only do so much to support your claims without any proof. It sounds like you are letting your personal feelings get in the way of helping another man. Now, you must welcome Sergeant Harris and arrange for Private Pyle to take him into town. Until then, without proof, I can't do much."
Nodding his head, feeling defeated, Carter replied, "Right, sir."
"As you were." Colonel Grey spoke.
With that said, Carter walked out of his Colonel's office, having no choice but to put his love in a situation he didn't want to.
*GC*
Gomer knocked on the door to the duty hut, making Carter look up.
"You wanted to see me?" he asked.
"Oh yes. Shut the door, please?" Carter asked as he stood up from his desk.
The sweet Private walked in, shutting the door behind him. As he walked over to Carter, the Sergeant couldn't help but take Gomer into his arms, protectively holding him.
"How was your first rehearsal?" Carter asked him.
"It was okay. Joey from Company A plays the piano quite well. Did you know he plays the piano quite well?" Gomer asked as he placed his arms around Carter's neck, running his other hand through the Sergeant's buzz cut.
"I've heard him. He's pretty good." Carter stated.
Feeling something was wrong, Gomer asked his love, "Are you okay? You are startin' to worry me."
Carter shook his head and dismissed the question, "Colonel Grey talked to me. He said the new Sergeant requested you show him around town tonight. If you don't want to go, I will have the other men..."
"Oh no, Sergeant...I don't mind. I did meet Sergeant Harris, and we got on just fine. He's a friendly fella." Gomer spoke with enthusiasm in his voice over his new friend.
Not really expecting the answer he received, Carter smiled faintly to Gomer, "You don't have to go if you don't want. You aren't obligated to do anyone favors."
"I don't think of it as a favor at all. I'm more than happy to show a new friend around town." Gomer replied happily.
Nodding his head, Carter softly said, "Okay...you are to meet him in front of the Officer's Quarters at about 5. Just do me one favor..."
"What is that?" Gomer asked.
"Be careful. I worry about you." Carter spoke as his fingers brushed against Gomer's arms.
"Vince," the sweet Private smiled, "if I'm not mistaken...you sound rather jealous to me."
Taken aback, Carter replied, "Jealous? Of Brandon Harris? Pyle, where did you get that idea?"
"I'm not sure. I get that feelin'." Gomer chuckled.
"Believe me, I've known him for years. I'm not jealous of him." Carter spoke. "Skeptical maybe...I don't trust no one, especially when it comes to you."
"Not even Duke?" Gomer innocently asked.
"Well...Slater is a special case." Carter joked.
The sweet Private chuckled. As much as he didn't have to admit it, Gomer knew Carter was jealous.
"Vince," Gomer maneuvered out of Carter's grasp to where he was half standing, half sitting on his lap, placing his arm around his shoulders, while Carter put his arm around Gomer's waist, "you ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout. You're the only one I care for. I don't think I've ever cared for no one more outside of kin."
Carter looked up at Gomer, smiling at him. He brushed his finger against the Private's cheek, saying, "Your cheek is soft, you know that?"
"Well...I do wash my face with the face soap." Gomer responded adorably.
The Sergeant chuckled, bringing Gomer in for a kiss. When the kiss broke, the two embraced. Gomer didn't see the face of worry Carter made, knowing he was leaving his love alone with a man he didn't trust.
*GC*
After 5 pm, Gomer and Brandon entered the city, parking the jeep onto the main avenue. While getting out of the jeep, Gomer began to sputter, "So...what do you have in mind? I figured we could go to Bluebird Cafe for an ice cream soda. Or there is a monster picture playin' at the picture show. Or there is also the park where you can feed the geese, but they ain't real friendly sometimes, or we could..."
"Private, relax!" Brandon chuckled as he placed a hand on Gomer's shoulder. "This is just day one, so whatever happens happens."
"Golly, you're right. I was just nervous about being out with a new friend." Gomer explained.
"Relax. Let's walk the avenue and see what comes to mind." Brandon stated, motioning his hand to Gomer, "Lead the way, Private Pyle."
"Glad to do so." Gomer happily replied, walking ahead of Brandon.
Brandon's eyes followed Gomer's motions as the sweet Private walked ahead as he walked behind. Gomer talked the Bostonian Sergeant's ear off as he explained where the men on the base would go for liberty and downtime. As Gomer was explaining away, he realized Brandon wasn't beside him. He quickly turned around, saying, 'Oh, Sergeant Harris, there you are! I didn't see you next to me, and I got worried..."
Brandon shook out of his thoughts, saying, "Sorry...I took it literally when I suggested you 'lead the way.' I didn't realize I was walking behind you."
"Oh, it's fine. I was explainin' that most of the men come here for liberty. Tony's Pizza has the best tastin' pizza. I hear they get their water imported from Italy. I wonder how they do that."
"Huh...interesting." Brandon wondered.
"Anyway, I noticed we was gettin' close to Bluebird Cafe. I wanted to buy you your first ice cream soda."
"Sounds good. Let's head over." The Bostonian Sergeant replied.
Walking side by side, the two friends walked to the Bluebird Cafe, only to be greeted by two MPs. They saluted the MPs and kept walking. Once they reached the Bluebird Cafe, Brandon opened the door, letting Gomer in first. As Brandon followed behind, the two removed their caps while looking for a place to sit.
"What do you want, Private? Counter or booth?" Brandon asked.
"It don't matter to me," Gomer replied.
"Would you mind the counter?" Brandon asked.
"Not at all," Gomer said happily.
They walked over to the counter and sat down. Gomer took out his handkerchief, wiping his forehead, "Goodness...it sure is humid outside."
"Tell me about it. On my other base, it wouldn't start getting hot until the end of the month." Brandon explained.
Gomer placed his handkerchief on the table when he saw his favorite waitress walk by.
"Why, Gomer! What a joy!" Jenny greeted as she placed two glasses of water in front of them.
"Hey there, Miss Jenny!"
Jenny smiled at Brandon, asking the sweet Private, "May I ask who your friend is?"
Gomer swallowed his water, answering Jenny, "This is Sergeant Brandon Harris. Sergeant Harris, this is Miss Jenny."
In response, Bostonian Sergeant gave a friendly nod, muttering hello. Jenny took in how buff and handsome Brandon was, obviously not seeing anyone like him in the cafe.
"Hello, Sergeant." She smiled sheepishly, then turned to Gomer, "So...Gomer, what will it be?"
"I'll have a chocolate ice cream soda. Extra ice cream, please?"
Jenny wrote Gomer's order, then turned to Brandon, "What about you, handsome?"
Dismissing her flirting, he responded, "I'm not too hungry. I'll have what he ordered and a bacon burger and fries with the chili on top."
"Shazam! I will have that too!" Gomer gloated.
"Okay. You know ladies love a man who could eat." Jenny replied to Gomer, then winked at Brandon.
Brandon awkwardly smiled at her. Once she walked off, Gomer turned to Brandon, "Miss Jenny always takes care of me. She's real friendly and gets my orders right."
"I see..." Brandon responded.
"So...Sergeant Harris...tell me about you! I'd like to hear about you!" Gomer spoke enthusiastically.
"Well, for starters, it's Brandon. You don't have to be so formal." Brandon chuckled.
"Gosh, I'm sorry..." Gomer said, a little embarrassed.
"No need to apologize," Brandon stated. "What do you want to know?"
"Well...from what you told me before, you are from Boston...and that's about it," Gomer chuckled.
"Boston born and raised," Brandon stated. "I grew up on the South Side. Sometimes I had to learn to fend for myself; my folks weren't the best."
"Gosh. That's too bad. My daddy was the only one who was there for me. He was killed in a car wreck when I was just a boy. Momma took over in carin' for me, but she didn't want to. All she did was drink." Gomer explained to Brandon.
"At least you had your father. My old man was a drunk who liked to beat me. My mother didn't bother leaving him because she said we had to deal with his moods. She didn't bother dealing with me. Half the time, she'd completely ignore me when I needed her or whore herself out to other men. That wasn't the worst of it." Brandon looked off to the side.
"What was?" Gomer asked.
The Bostonian Sergeant sighed, saying, "Our place caught on fire. I was the first one out. I lost my folks that evening. I was thrown into the system until I turned 18. Then I enlisted in the Marines, never looking back."
"Goodness, Brandon...I'm so sorry. I truly am." Gomer sympathized with his new friend.
"Don't be." Brandon smiled. "I'm not. Had I not gone through what I did, I wouldn't be where I am today. The experience only made me stronger."
"Well, that's all that matters in the end. When momma got in trouble with the judge of Mayberry, I was left with Grandma and Grandpa. I ain't sorry she did that because it made me who I am now. Did you know Grandpa Pyle taught me how to garden? We used to have the best garden in all of Mayberry."
"I can only assume that you are the one with the green thumb on the base? I could tell you were the one who planted most of the produce in the base garden. Impressive."
The compliment made Gomer blush.
"That's where we get most of our fruits and vegetables for the mess hall. How long have you been in the mess hall at Camp Hamilton?" Gomer asked.
"For a few years, I started as a cook in Korea, servin' the other men your typical pork and beans. While in foster care, I learned how to cook, eventually cooking for the other kids I lived with. Soon, before you know it, your's truly became a Sergeant in charge of the mess hall. The food was good, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't craving New England Clam Chowder."
"What is that? I ain't never heard of that." Gomer asked.
"You've never had...oh, Private..." Brandon exaggerated as he patted Gomer's thigh, "we need to get you eating New England Clam Chowder. Then you'll want to travel to Boston with me in no time."
Gomer chuckled, "I would love to try some."
"Good, because that's one of the meals I will be serving in the mess hall when I start my duties."
"Shazam!" Gomer cried out.
"Yeah...shazam," Brandon replied, making the two laugh.
It was until Gomer realized Brandon still had his hand on his thigh. Brandon noticed this as well, moving his hand away quickly.
"Sorry..." He muttered, a flush of embarrassment creeping up on him.
"It's all fine. I get it was an accident." Gomer sweetly replied.
"Yeah..." Brandon nervously chuckled. "Did you know in Korea, they gave me a nickname? The Boston Trigger. Because I was a skilled sniper, I took out as many enemies as possible. I was feared."
The Bostonian Sergeant intimidated the Private with this piece of information. Noticing this, Brandon softened his features as he continued, "Well...that part of me is behind me now. I haven't been a sniper in a long time."
"Right..." was all Gomer muttered.
At that moment, Jenny came out with their orders of chocolate sodas, burgers, and chili fries. The sweet Private felt his mouth salivating at the sight of the food. When Jenny placed their food in front of them, she noticed how moon-eyed Gomer was. She chuckled, then said, "You boys enjoy. I can tell Gomer is ready to eat."
"Thank you, Miss Jenny. It looks just delicious!" Gomer gloated.
Jenny smiled at Gomer, then back to Brandon, who disregarded her. As she walked away, Gomer took a bite of his burger while Brandon ate his fries.
"Have you ever eaten chili on top of your fries?" Brandon asked.
"Gosh, no. I've always eaten them separate." Gomer replied. "Since you ordered chili on fries, it looked appitizin', so I ordered it too."
"You know," Brandon leaned into Gomer, "when I was a Private, working in the mess hall, I've always categorized the men as either the ones who are cowards, always sticking with the safer options, or the risk takers, someone who is willing to try new things...I take you to be a risk taker."
"Golly, I've never even thought of me as a risk taker," Gomer spoke honestly.
"Nah, I believe you have it in you. You can prove it to me by trying those fries." Brandon motioned over to the fries.
With that said, the sweet Private took a bite of his chili-covered fry, making an 'mmmm' sound with his lips.
"This sure is good!" He cried out.
"See...I knew you had it in you." Brandon laughed. "You know what's funny? Your Sergeant was in my platoon when I was in Korea...I always thought of him as one who preferred the safer options. Quite the picky eater if you ask me."
"Wait...you know Sergeant Carter?" Gomer asked.
"Vince Carter and I were Privates together. I mean, we didn't talk much or associate, as a matter of fact, but I knew he was a good guy. Have you seen his artwork?"
Gomer couldn't help but smile, his heart beating upon hearing the sound of his love's name.
"I have. He's real good..."
"A bit modest about it if you ask me." Brandon chuckled. "Tell me...how is he as a Sergeant?"
"He's been good to us..." Gomer almost gushed. "He's truly the best..."
Brandon nodded his head, not saying much. Gomer added, "But the Sergeant Carter I know ain't a picky eater, oh no sir-ree! I've seen him eat everything. Picky ain't the word to describe Sergeant Carter."
"Huh..." Brandon stated, "we must know two different Vince Carters, then."
Before biting into his burger, Gomer had to add, "Trust me. Sergeant Carter ain't no picky eater."
As silence fell within a few seconds, Brandon spoke again, "I spoke to Corporal Jenson before; I mentioned what you told me just to make sure it was true about you being an asset to the mess hall."
"Only when they need me," Gomer answered honestly.
"Well, don't be surprised when I may need you in the kitchen," Brandon stated.
This made Gomer chuckle. Jenny walked by again, much to Brandon's growing irritation.
"How are we doing, boys?" she asked.
"Hi, Miss Jenny! These are the best fries I've ever eaten! Hard to believe I wouldn't think to dress my fries up in chili." Gomer looked at Brandon, who blushed.
"Well, that's why I'm here, Private." Brandon patted Gomer's knee.
Jenny beamed, then said, "Happy to hear. Well, you boys, let me know if you need anything else."
'Yeah...for you to go away.' Brandon thought to himself as he plastered a smile across his face.
Once Jenny left, the Private couldn't help but talk again, "Ain't she sweet? She's one of the best waitresses here. She always gives me extra pickles with my grilled cheese."
"Ah, so you're a regular customer here?" Brandon took a sip of his ice cream soda.
"Practically, but so are most men," Gomer explained. "Listen, I want to thank you for becoming my new friend. It isn't often that we get a new Sergeant to the base."
"Oh, Private, I should be thanking you. You are probably the first nice person I've met so far." Brandon reiterated.
"Gosh, I appreciate the compliment," Gomer replied, then lifted his soda. "Here is to new friendships."
"Yeah..." Brandon responded, lifting his glass too. "New friendships."
The two clinked the glasses together when Jenny walked by with the bill, placing it in front of Gomer. Brandon tried to reach for the check when the sweet Private took it from him, "Oh no, Sergeant Harris. This is on me."
"Right," Brandon muttered.
As Gomer went to go and pay the check, Brandon couldn't help but eye him up and down, taking in the sight of how handsome Gomer was. As the Private returned to their table, he sat beside his new friend, saying, "Boy, I've never been more stuffed. Say, why don't we see which monster picture is playin' when you are finished eatin'?"
"Uh..." Brandon looked down at his food, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "I think I'm satisfied."
"Great! Then let's head to the picture show! I hear there is a new Godzilla movie playin'! Say, you ever seen them Godzilla movies? The last one wasn't so scary to me."
"Nah...I've never seen them, but the men back in Camp Hamilton can't get enough of them."
"Then that's what we'll do! Yes, sir, we'll go see a Godzilla picture!" Gomer stated happily. "Just a bit of a warnin' here...this particular Godzilla movie is known to give you nightmares."
"Trust me, Private...after what I've been through, nightmares are the least of my issue."
*GC*
After a delicious meal at the cafe, the Private and his new friend left the restaurant; the two walked towards the movie theater, catching the Godzilla movie that was playing. Gomer had paid for their tickets, saying, "You know, the tickets went up in price. Last week, they was only $0.60. Now they are up to $0.65. I wonder why."
"Why does anything go up?" Brandon shrugged.
Once inside, they sat down in their seats just in time for the lights to dim. Gomer turned to Brandon, whispering, "I hope you don't find them too terrifyin' and all."
Brandon eyed Gomer, smirking at him. The movie began to play, and the Private's immediate attention was on the screen. The Bostonian Sergeant honestly could care less about the movie, but instead, kept glancing over at the sweetheart Private, whose eyes were glued to the movie as he bit his lip in concentration, despite the sound of screaming and monster mayhem playing on the screen. Brandon's engagement was so deeply on Gomer that he didn't realize that instead of placing his hand on the armrest, he put his hand on the sweet Private's inner thigh, making him jump.
"Sergeant Harris!" Gomer cried out as a young redhead sitting behind them shushed Gomer.
"Sorry...I was trying to grab the armrest...it's so dark here that I didn't see..." Brandon whispered.
Believing him, Gomer smiled back, "It's alright. You just surprised me, is all."
"What are you, stupid?" The redhead called out to Gomer. "Shut up!"
"Sorry," Gomer responded, turning back to the movie.
A random civilian shushing Gomer began to not sit well with Brandon. He turned to look at him, giving the redhead the iciest look he's ever given anyone. Not that it let Gomer bother him, the Bostonian Sergeant swore to get revenge on this individual when he'd get the chance.
*GC*
The two new friends made it back to the base right before reveille. Gomer made sure he parked the jeep in its correct spot. Once the jeep was parked, the two friends jumped out, turning to face one another.
"Golly, that sure was a fun night!" Gomer happily exclaimed. "You know, we oughta do that again!"
"Let me know when and where." Brandon smiled. "I think we should get back to our proper quarters, so you have a goodnight, Private."
"Night, Sergeant Harris!" Gomer replied before turning around to walk off.
The sweet Private happily walked off towards his quarters. Before he walked into the barracks, he stopped to stare at the night sky and catch the moon. To his disappointment, the clouds covered the moon, ruining his star gazing before bedtime.
"I might as well just hop into bed," he told himself as he walked into the barracks quietly, making sure not to wake anyone else up. He stripped down his shirt and shorts, realizing his missing handkerchief.
"Gosh...I think I left my handkerchief on the counter at the café. Oh well...maybe Miss Jenny has it for me." Gomer shrugged.
"Gomer...hey, Gomer, is that you?" a groggy Duke spoke.
"Oh hey, Duke," Gomer whispered. "It's just me."
"Oh...okay...just making sure...night, buddy."
"Night!" Gomer replied, only getting Duke's snores in response.
Shrugging off his best friend's snores, the Private opened his locker, neatly placed his uniform on a hanger, shut the door, and climbed into bed.
Meanwhile, back in Company C, Brandon got ready for bed himself. As he was removing his uniform, he kept thinking about Gomer and his smile, brown eyes, long lashes, and most importantly...that lip bite. The lip bite did it for him; it turned him on in ways the others never have. The sweet and innocent Private turned him on like no other. The Bostonian Sergeant removed his pants, taking the belt off its loops and setting it down beside him. As he sat down on the mattress, he pulled two items out of his pocket: his wallet, which he opened up, pulling out a picture of Gomer. He had torn it out of the yearbook in Colonel Grey's office to give him something to look at. He stared at the photo intently, staring at how handsome Gomer was. He pressed his lips against the picture before placing it on the nightstand.
Next, he pulled out the following item from his pants pocket, which was Gomer's handkerchief that he had left behind at the Bluebird Cafe. The blonde placed the cloth up against his nose, sniffing Gomer's natural scent; he was intoxicating, almost like a drug that one could quickly get high off. Hell, all the different psychedelics being passed around didn't compare; the sweet, innocent Private was enough to get him high. As Brandon sniffed into the handkerchief again, he felt himself become excited. He had to relieve himself somehow. Brandon turned on his transistor radio to the highest volume to drown out what was to be done. Before he picked up his belt, he took off his white tank, revealing his toned and muscular body. Brandon sniffed the cloth when he struck himself with the belt, grunting from the pain.
The stinging was enough to make the Bostonian Sergeant wince. Again, he hit himself with the belt, feeling the blood trickle down his back, followed by another stinging whack, while he made noises of pain mixed with pleasure. He stared intensely at Gomer's photo as he kept hitting the leather against his skin, imagining himself on top of the sweet Private, ravishing him...kissing him...touching and having his way with him, as he had done with the others. He kept this up until he felt himself have a release of pleasure, moaning as he expelled. Placing the belt down on the bed, Brandon took in a few breaths in and out, taking in the feeling of him releasing his excitement. At the same time, he felt himself fall back on the bed, ignoring the stinging welts from his whipping session, smiling to himself as the music on the radio played...
With the dawn that you will be gone
But tonight, you belong to me
Just to little old me...
*GC*
It had been a week since Brandon's entrance on the base, and it was safe to say he and Gomer had developed a newfound friendship, which only made Carter jealous. What annoyed the Sergeant, even more was that Brandon always found a way to get near Gomer, often putting his hands on his shoulders, or whispering something into his ear, making the two of them laugh as if they had their little inside jokes. Carter often glared at the sight of their bonding, doing everything in him to avoid going over to Brandon and pushing him away from Gomer. Even though Carter had admitted his past jealousy to Gomer, this was a new level of jealousy. Carter couldn't help but ponder the thought of Brandon taking Gomer away from him or even Gomer falling for Brandon at some point, leaving Carter. Suddenly, the phone rang, and Carter picked it up, answering, "Company B, Sergeant Carter speaking."
"Hello, Sergeant Carter."
"Hello, Colonel. What can I do for you?" Carter asked.
"Sergeant Carter, I've gotten a request from Sergeant Harris asking for assistance in making bread for the mess hall." Colonel Grey explained.
"What does that have to do with me, Colonel, if you don't mind me asking?" Carter asked.
"Well...Sergeant Harris requested Private Pyle to assist him in making the bread."
Making a face over the other line, followed by his heart dropping to his stomach, Carter took a deep breath before answering, "Does he need Pyle? I'm sure there are other men on the base who can..."
"He just requested Pyle because he had worked in the mess hall from time to time." Colonel Grey. "He requested to have Pyle assist in the mess hall a couple of times a week. If you could make that happen, I would truly appreciate it."
Reluctantly, Carter replied, "Yes, sir."
Once they hung up, the Sergeant rubbed his temples of frustration. The last thing he wanted was to keep his love near Brandon. What was it about Gomer that Brandon was fascinated with? Not wanting to entertain the idea any longer, Carter put his cap on and walked out of the duty hut towards the barracks. One of the Privates saw Carter at the door, yelling, "Attention!"
Everyone stood at attention when Carter replied, "As you were. Pyle, a word?"
"Yes, sir." Gomer got up, placed his book down, and followed Carter outside.
As the two were outside the barracks, Carter spoke to Gomer in an authoritative voice, "Colonel Grey says that Sergeant Harris requested to have you work in the mess hall a couple of days a week. Now, if you don't want to, I can just..."
"Oh, I don't mind, Vince!" Gomer responded happily. "Me and Sergeant Harris have become real good buddies! We're goin' to catch another Godzilla picture next week! I think I got him into the Godzilla pictures now that I mention it..."
"Gomer, do you understand your assignment?" Carter cut him off.
Taken aback, Gomer replied, "Yes. Um...do I need to report over?"
"Right away," Carter answered.
The sweet Private noticed the look on Carter's face, "Are you okay, Vince?"
"I'm fine. Just stop askin' questions and head on over to the mess hall." Carter replied before turning to walk back over to the duty hut.
Taken aback, Gomer stared straight ahead, then walked to the mess hall. Once Carter was back in the duty hut, the first thing Carter did was kick his locker, leaving a dent. He sat down, lit up a cigar, and blew into it. Not realizing, he spaced out, hearing a voice say, 'You have nothing to worry about...he's true to you. Brandon can't win.'
"Louie, why do you continue to torture me?"
"Not torture... looking out for you is more like it. You're as stubborn as a mule, Vince Carter."
"Don't mock me. I'm not in the mood."
"I'm trying to get you to understand that you are acting silly. Gomer had stated you're the only one he cares for."
"Then why does he seem more than enthused about helping Harris or even being near him?"
"You know, Gomer...he wants to be friends with everyone...he sees the good in everyone. Trust me...you have nothin' to worry about with Harris."
"Vince, who are you talkin' to?" A voice called out.
Breaking out of his thoughts, Carter saw Boyle at the doorway.
"Chuck, will you stop sneakin' up on me like that!" Carter cried out. "You nearly gave me a friggin' heart attack! I almost had to call the friggin' ambulance!"
Boyle chuckled as he walked in, only to glance at the dent in Carter's locker, "You need to stop beating up your locker, Vince. What did it do to you?"
"Please don't be smart with me, Boyle." Carter snapped.
Taking in a breath, Boyle turned his chair around to face Carter, then sat down, "I saw Pyle going to the mess hall. What was that about?"
"Harris told the Colonel he wanted Pyle to help in the mess hall makin' bread. Because the mess hall doesn't have men to do that." Carter replied, angrily puffing his cigar.
"Vince, he's just makin' bread. He's done it for Hacker."
"Exactly! I don't mind him doin' it for Hacker! Not this guy who seems to have an interest in him! Not that I'd want him back here, but I'd rather Charlie over this guy."
"But why are you worried when Pyle has said you're the only one he cares about? Vince, he's been loyal to you since day 1, and he's even more loyal to you now! I've seen Harris, and the guy has nothing on you. Trust me. Pyle is true to you."
Carter just sat at his desk, puffing his cigar.
"When are you supposed to go out with him again?" Boyle asked curiously.
"Saturday night," Carter answered.
Boyle looked at his Sergeant sympathetically. Meanwhile, Gomer had spent the last hour in a half making bread in the mess hall. He was in deep concentration while the music played on the radio. Unbeknown to him, Brandon would peek into the kitchen, watching him intently. This gave Brandon a nudge to make a move on Gomer.
"You're doing a good job with the bread," Brandon spoke, scaring Gomer a little.
Startled, Gomer turned to Brandon, saying, "Sergeant Harris...you scared me."
"Sorry." Brandon chuckled. "I just wanted to come in and check out your work. Pretty impressive if you ask me."
"Oh, it's a lot of fun makin' bread. It brings me back to when I was just a boy, and Grandma Pyle and me would spend Saturday afternoons makin' loaves of bread. Sometimes, we would make so much bread that lasted the whole winter. Her recipe was homemade too."
"Sounds like real nice memories," Brandon spoke with genuine sincerity.
"They truly are," Gomer replied, continuing to knead the dough.
As Brandon watched him, Gomer continued, "It wasn't just bread we would bake together. Sometimes, on rainy days, when I couldn't go outside and play, Grandma and me would bake cookies all day; I could remember the recipe of her chocolate chip cookies on the back of my hand."
"I understand that you've memorized most of her recipes." Brandon joked.
"I guess you get to say that," Gomer responded.
"Speaking of which, cookies were never my specialty." Brandon chuckled. "When I worked the mess hall in Camp Hamilton, I'd have one of the other men bake cookies while I handled the dirty work."
"The dirty work?" Gomer turned to look at Brandon, confused by what he meant.
"Handling the meat, seafood, and poultry." Brandon laughed, making Gomer smile bashfully as he replied, "Golly, I bet you could make a delicious beef stew."
"My specialty," Brandon spoke with pride in his voice.
"That was one of my favorite dishes by Grandma Pyle." Gomer mention.
Brandon placed his hand on Gomer's arm, "Would you like to try it? I could make it one night."
"Really? Well, for goodness sake! I haven't ate beef stew in a long time! I'd love to try your beef stew, Sergeant Harris!" Gomer spoke as his eyes lit up with enthusiasm.
The Bostonian Sergeant stared into Gomer's eyes, noticing how pure and innocent Gomer was...not like anyone else he'd ever met before. There was something different about the sweet Private that he'd never expected to encounter...it almost made him feel bad that he was harboring lustful thoughts of someone so pure and kind as Gomer. As silence fell into the air, Brandon removed his hand from Gomer's arm, "Uh...I'll let you get back to your bread-making. I better get back out there."
"Right," Gomer replied.
As Brandon turned to exit the kitchen, Jenson approached him, "Sergeant Harris, all the new meats came in."
"Huh...what...oh, thanks, Corporal." Brandon stuttered with his words.
Jenson gave Brandon an odd look, "You okay, Sergeant?"
"Yeah...I'm fine. Hey, Corporal, can you take over? I need to smoke and don't want to do it inside the mess hall." Brandon explained.
"Right," Jenson replied.
As Brandon walked off, Jenson stared off at him. He shook his head, muttering, "Strange guy..."
*GC*
Later in the week, Gomer and Carter drove to where they caught the sunset. The drive felt relatively quiet and awkward for the two, as Carter was experiencing jealousy upon the arrival of the Bostonian Sergeant. As they reached their spot to catch the sunset, the sweet Private turned to him, smiling a big smile, "Boy, all these duties in the mess hall has been makin' my mind weary."
"Well, mess hall duty will do that to you," Carter responded sternly.
"Sergeant Harris has me cleanin' the pots so that I feel my hands go dry. Have you ever felt your hands go dry from washin' so many dishes? Grandma Pyle would always have me wear gloves."
Carter scoffed in response.
"I've been bakin' bread too. I think it's safe to say we have more bread than at the supermarket." Gomer told Carter, smiling.
"Good." Carter spat.
Gomer noticed Carter was quiet, "Are you alright, Vince?"
"Huh, what?" Carter turned to face Gomer.
"You're awful quiet. Did I do somethin'?" Gomer asked.
"No...sorry...I got so much on my mind, is all." Carter lied.
The Private knew he was jealous of his and Brandon's friendship, "Vince...I know you don't like me bein' friends with Sergeant Harris."
The Sergeant turned to face the sweet Private, "Where did that come from?"
"I don't know. I have a feelin' that you feel that way."
"Gomer, I told you I don't trust the guy, okay? I don't care who you are friends with. Just be careful when around Harris. He's known to have a bad temper and quite the character." Carter spoke.
"Gosh, he ain't shown me that side to him," Gomer responded.
"Well...I've known him longer." Carter stated. "Look, can we not talk about the guy and watch the sunset? That is what we came here for, no?"
The sweet Private felt his features soften, then looked at the sunset. Carter eyed Gomer's sad face, then said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."
Gomer eyed Carter, giving him a look of sincerity.
"Come here..." Carter gently pulled Gomer to him while the Private rested his head on the Sergeant's shoulder, "I don't want to argue. I love spendin' these moments with you."
"Me too. I don't want to share it with no one else." Gomer replied. "You know what's special about summertime sunsets? How the colors look so much brighter in the sky. I always found that to be pretty neat."
The Sergeant smiled, making a 'hmm' sound with his lips. They hadn't realized how long they had been sitting there because, before they knew it, the sun was slowly disappearing, the light transitioning to a starry sky. The two sat together, wishing this moment could last forever. With the wind blowing on them, it was enough to make Gomer's eyes go heavy. Carter eyed the Private as he slept against his shoulder, smiling as he watched him rest his eyes. The Sergeant kissed the sweet Private on top of the head, massaging the back of his scalp with his fingers, making Gomer moan softly. This gesture from the sweet Private was enough to remind Carter that Boyle was right...Gomer was faithful to him until the end.
"Gomer...I think I spot a shootin' star." Carter whispered, watching the Private quickly shoot his eyes open.
"Where?" Gomer's eyes shot up as he looked up at the sky, making Carter laugh. "Did you play a trick on me?"
"Sorry. I couldn't help myself!" Carter laughed.
"Why, what a mean trick! What a mean, mean trick! You know I have to catch a shootin' star!" Gomer cried out.
"I did it to wake you up." Carter chuckled.
Gomer couldn't stay mad at his love. His lips formed a smile before kissing the lips of his love and Sergeant.
"Findin' a shootin' star means a lot to you, doesn't it?" Carter asked.
All he got in response was Gomer smiling.
"I promise I won't do that again," Carter whispered, stroking a finger down Gomer's soft cheek, then kissing him on the tip of his nose.
*GC*
Brandon took himself out in the town, heading to a local bar. Sitting on a counter stool, he lit a cigarette when the bartender walked up to him. Turning his body around, as he blew out smoke from his lips, he told the bartender, "Your finest scotch, please."
The bartender walked off, leaving Brandon to people-watch from his bar stool. Then, his eyes landed on the redhead from the theater a few nights ago. He was socializing with his friends, not noticing Brandon staring at him intently.
"Your scotch, Sergeant." the bartender called as he placed his drink on the counter.
The Bostonian Sergeant turned to look at the bartender, silently muttering a 'Thank you.' As he sipped his scotch, his eyes stayed on the redhead, who was playing a game of darts. After a few games, the young man decided to excuse himself from his group, walking outside the bar to step outside quickly. It was until Brandon placed his scotch glass on the counter, put out his cigarette, then followed the redhead. He noticed the young man enter a secluded alleyway, about to smoke marijuana.
'So he's one of those types...' Brandon thought. 'The type that gets away with everything because of daddy's money...he's gonna learn a lesson.'
This led him to walk down the alleyway, startling the young man as he said, "Hey!"
The redhead jumped when he saw the tall blonde stare intimidatingly at him.
"What do you want, tough guy?"
"Not sure if you remember me, but I sure as hell remember you. I was at the theater with my buddy, and you told him to shut up. I found that very rude if you ask me." Brandon spoke softly but sternly.
The redhead took a puff of his joint, suddenly recalling the incident from the night before, "Oh yeah...I think I remember seeing you. Tall blonde Marine with another one, goofy looking face, talked stupid."
Brandon, making a sour face from the smell of the weed, held it in as he clenched his fists. He got into the young man's face, saying in a threatening voice, "Don't you ever...call him stupid..."
Chuckling to Brandon's intimidation, the redhead followed up with, "Or what? What are you going to do?"
The Bostonian Sergeant's icy glare only led to more chuckles from the young redhead. Brandon eyed the joint in his hand, then looked into his eyes, "You're a Bay Stater, is that right?"
"How do you know?" The redhead asked.
"Boston born and raised. I can tell by the accent that you come from Weston?"
"Uh...yeah...your point?" The redhead was now confused.
"What are you going to school for?" Brandon asked.
"I'm studying to be a doctor...what are you getting at, psycho?"
The Bostonian Sergeant shrugged, "I can tell what kind of person you are. From how you are dressed to how you carry yourself...and from what I see, you can get away with murder, and daddy's money will be able to bail you out. You forget that you are not in Weston anymore, and the rules of publicly smoking marijuana will get you in severe trouble. You could be kicked out of school...you could go to jail...hell, if I wanted to, I could go to the bartender...tell him that you are smoking an illegal substance on his property because I'm sure he will have a field day pressing charges!"
"You wouldn't..."
"No, I won't. I'm a man of my word...I don't like rats or tattle tales." Brandon smiled. "But what I can do is this..."
With that said, Brandon punched the redhead in the throat, causing the young man to drop his joint on the ground as he struggled for air. Brandon followed that punch with another in the stomach, having the young man fall to his knees. The Bostonian Sergeant took a pair of brass knuckles out of his pocket as the redhead looked up in fear, coughing from being punched in the throat.
Brandon crushed the joint before getting to the young man's level as he fit the brass knuckles on his fingers, "Did you know in Korea, I was called 'the Boston Trigger?' You see, it was because I was a skilled sniper...taking out as many of the enemy as possible. Sometimes, I would hunt them down, beating them to a pulp with the brass knuckles I happened to be wearing. Now I could get past the fact you were smoking marijuana; that I don't care about. But I don't tolerate people like you who are just plain miserable...and rotten...and entitled...and those people deserve to be taken out."
The redhead looked up at Brandon, white-faced with terror, as what he hoped wouldn't happen came next. Before Brandon could hit the young man, he added with, "Oh, and...I don't take kindly to being called a psycho."
*GC*
A couple of hours later, Brandon returned to the base, walking into his quarters to wash his hands and quickly bandaging them up. Jenson walked into the bathroom, finding his shirtless Sergeant at the sink, saying, "Sergeant Harris...when did you get in?"
Brandon turned around, smiling at Jenson, "Oh, hi, Corporal Jenson."
Jenson stared at the blood in the sink, "Are you okay?"
Chuckling nervously, Brandon replied, "Don't worry about this. I'll be okay."
"Your knuckles are bleeding."
"Someone tried to mug me, and I fought back. As I said, don't worry about it."
The Corporal then eyed the welts on Brandon's bare back.
"Why do you have welts on your back?" Jenson asked.
"No reason..." Brandon stared at the Corporal in the mirror, giving him a blank look.
Finding this interaction bizarre, Jenson took two steps back and said, "Okay...goodnight..."
"Night, Jenson," Brandon responded.
Once Jenson was out of sight, Brandon continued cleaning up. Afterward, he stepped into the shower to wash of smelled of whisky and cigar smoke off of him. As the hot water beat down on him, he closed his eyes and placed his hand against the wall, imagining the sweet Private underneath him. This was enough for the Bostonian Sergeant to get excited. As he pleasured himself, he couldn't help but picture himself touching Gomer, having his way with him as he pleased...it was clear that Gomer wasn't like the others he once had. He was pure and simple, someone with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, and only thinking these lustful and dangerous thoughts about him made him feel terrible...but he still had to have him to himself. As he reached his tipping point, Brandon uttered a loud cry and grunt as he expelled against the shower wall. This brought a sinister smile to his face as he concluded that he would do everything to get alone with Pyle.
