Pam and Sam
Still lying in her nest of leaves and branches, Sam felt her leg throbbing.
"I better loosen the tourniquet for a while."
Slowly, she reached down, creating as little sound and motion as possible. She untied the bandanna and glanced at her watch, marking the time and calculating when she should re-tie it. As she rested again, her mind wandered back to when she and Pam first became friends.
It had been a Saturday night during her second year at the Academy. She had been studying all day, and although she had a weekend leave, she hadn't planned on going out. But after 10 hours solid, she decided that she'd seen enough of the walls and bookcases in the library and needed to get some air. As she stretched her arms and stood up, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. There was a pizza place not far from the Academy so she decided to walk there to clear her mind and work out the kinks in her body at the same time. She had a pair of casual friends who she normally might have called up to join her, but they had taken advantage of the rare weekend off and were out of town, visiting family nearby.
As she walked, she thought about her solitary day. Her friends' absence was one of the reasons she had spent the day alone studying, but if she were totally honest with herself, it probably wouldn't have mattered if they had been in town. Most of her down time was spent on academic activities. That certainly wasn't because she needed to spend all her time studying in order to pass her courses. Most of her classes weren't easy, but weren't all that difficult either. She found that if she did the homework on a daily basis, she didn't even have to study for the exams very much. In her first year, she really didn't understand all the complaints from her classmates about the difficulty of the coursework. "It's not bad if you just keep up with the homework," she'd told her roommate. The Academy had very strict regimens for the cadets, forcing them to spend time on class work as well as time on physical activities and military training. But in her first year at the Academy, by observing her fourth class roommate, Sam discovered that sitting at your desk in front of a textbook didn't necessarily equate to actually getting work done. Ruth managed to squeak by in her classes, spending the night before exams cramming after lights out with a small flashlight. Her study habits appalled Sam, who could never stand to let things wait until the last minute like that.
Recalling it now, Sam thought "God, I was such a tight ass back then. It's a wonder anyone wanted to have anything to do with me. Thank goodness I met Pam that night."
Back then, and now, if truth be told, Sam needed to feel in control as much as possible. That had been one of the reasons she spent her free time in the library. After her first year's experiences, she'd known that she could keep up with her regular homework during the week and spend any weekend free time studying whatever she wanted to. At first she just read ahead in the texts, trying to get a jump start on the new material before it was presented in class. Soon it became a challenge to see if she could understand things on her own, without having the professor explain them. She kept an imaginary scorecard and gave herself points anytime she'd get it right. Now she was exploring even beyond the required texts, finding related books in the library, and trying to comprehend more complex topics. She'd seen her physics professor there a few weeks ago, and when he'd noticed what she was reading, he'd questioned her about a particular theory. Although he didn't say anything at the time, he ordered her to his office later that week. She was somewhat concerned; being summoned to a professor's office could have serious implications. But as she stood at attention in his door at the required time, he smiled and told her to stand down and enter.
"You've been asking some very good questions in class, and after talking to you in the library, I can see why. I checked your transcript, but didn't see any Advanced Physics classes listed. Have you taken a course at a different college that somehow isn't listed on your transcript?"
His question was friendly, not accusatory, so Sam relaxed, and answered, "No. sir. I just started by reading ahead in the text, then got interested and started looking for more."
"Well, I think that you've gone beyond the scope of our class, so I'm going to get you started on an independent study. You'll get credit for my class and we'll arrange for you to get credit for the independent study as well. I won't lie to you, it will be harder than what we've been doing in class, but I think that you can handle it. We'll set up a weekly meeting time, but you'll be doing most of the work on your own. Seeing you in the library makes me think that won't be a problem."
Sam was still a little stunned as she left his office. She didn't know that this was even possible. The curriculum was so structured that it hadn't occurred to her that she would be able to bypass a required course, albeit by taking a harder course instead, and doing it on her own. She made her way to her dorm room on automatic pilot, lost in contemplation of this new development, wondering what Colonel Randolph had in mind for her independent study topics. She turned a corner in the residence hall and bumped into another third year cadet, nearly knocking the smaller woman down. The cadet was Pam Sperling, a woman that Sam had never formally met, but had seen around the campus, and knew by reputation.
Sam quickly apologized. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you all right?"
The woman looked Sam over before responding. "I'm fine. What's your problem? Is that stick up your butt impeding your ability to walk?"
Sam quickly came down from the high she'd been on since leaving Colonel Randolph's office. She was taken aback by the remark. Feeling her face grow hot, she said, "Excuse me?"
"I'm just amazed that Cadet Perfect actually admitted to doing something wrong. You weren't paying attention? Wow, this may be a first! The amazing wonder woman makes a mistake, and I was here to witness it."
The sarcasm was heavy, but strangely, it wasn't delivered in a hostile tone. Pam seemed to be just throwing it out there to see how Sam would respond.
Sam's upbringing and fear of reprimands from the administration if she was involved in any altercation wouldn't allow her to respond in kind, but she couldn't let the remarks go unchallenged. She stiffly replied, "I'm glad that my imperfection could give you some entertainment. I'm sure that your inadequacies are far superior to mine."
Before Pam could respond, a group of first years came down the hall, ending the possibility of any further discussion. Walking to her room, Sam wondered what the whole incident had been about. Even though she'd never encountered her before, she knew that Pam Sperling had a reputation for a sharp tongue and quick wit. But usually that was for an audience of her friends. In this case, no one else had been around, so Pam hadn't been playing to the crowd. Sam had a strange feeling that she had just been tested in some way, and had no idea if she'd passed or failed.
Sam forgot the incident, and hadn't run into Pam either literally or figuratively since then. Colonel Randolph's independent study topics were keeping her busy, but also fascinated her. Hence her long day in the library that particular Saturday.
When she reached the pizza place, she ordered a small deluxe, and a diet soda. She sat in a booth next to the window watching the traffic outside and the patrons inside as she waited for her pizza. Unlike most of her friends, she didn't mind eating alone in restaurants, in fact enjoyed the opportunity to be by herself and just do nothing for a while. In the crowded atmosphere of the Academy, she was almost always surrounded by people, and almost always had to be somewhere and be doing something at every hour of the day. Here, even though it was full of noisy people, she felt content to be by herself. No demands, no need to make conversation, no schedule to meet. It was the first time she felt really relaxed in days.
Her pizza came and she savored the chewy crust and perfect blend of sauce, cheese and toppings. She had forgotten how good the pizza was here. She was swiping a string of mozzarella running from her chin to the plate when she heard,
"Well if it isn't Cadet Perfect."
Wiping her face with her napkin, Sam inwardly groaned and wondered which gods she had offended to deserve this irritation.
Pam plopped down next to Sam in the booth and stared hard at her neck.
Sam glared at Pam, deciding that this time she wasn't going to even pretend to be civil. "Who invited you to sit here, and what in hell are you staring at?"
"I'm looking for the on-off switch. I figure anyone as perfect as you must be animatronic like those robots at Disneyland. Do you really sleep at night, or do they just plug in your batteries to charge overnight?"
Sam flushed, angry and embarrassed at the same time. She had heard the "perfect soldier" sarcasm before, not just from Pam, although no one had ever been this direct before.
She responded, "What is your problem? Are you so insecure that you need to put everyone else down in order to feel better about yourself?"
Pam didn't blink. "Ooh, good one. That's right; psychoanalyze me, instead of examining yourself. You need to get over yourself, Miss Priss. Loosen up a bit and come down from your high horse for once."
Sam was astonished at how rapidly her pleasant evening out had devolved into a near cat fight. She didn't even know this woman, and yet Pam was almost gleefully insulting her. And to what end?
Pam continued, "I'm shocked that you actually came down from the mountain long enough to mingle with the masses. And I'm really surprised to see you here, in a bar filled with riff-raff."
Sam finally countered. "Well, knowing your reputation, I can't say that I'm surprised to see you here. That is what you do whenever you get a chance, isn't it – hang out with the low-lifes?"
As soon as she said it, she was ashamed, but not sorry that she'd responded. Why was Pam so confrontational? Sam had never heard that the woman was malicious, just sarcastic as hell. Did she want to provoke Sam into doing something for which she'd be disciplined? It just didn't make sense to Sam.
Just as Pam was about to answer, a young, slightly drunk man stumbled over to the booth. Pointing at a table in the back of the restaurant, he looked at the two women and happily announced, "Those guys over there told me you about you two."
Sam looked back and saw three of her fellow third years, trying unsuccessfully to hide their grins. Furious now, she turned on Pam, "So that's it! You're showing off for your buddies back there, aren't you? Trying to force me into making a scene in public and get a report for conduct unbecoming; is that your idea of entertainment?"
For the first time, Pam looked unsure of herself. She looked back at the table with their classmates and said,
"No, I really don't know those guys..."
Still angry, Sam pressed on. "And I'm supposed to believe that…"
Oblivious to their interaction, the drunk interrupted. "They told me your names are Pam and Sam." He giggled and chanted, "Pam, Sam, wham bam, thank you ma'am, Sam, Pam, bam, wham, thank you ma'am."
Giggling almost uncontrollably now, he managed to get out a question, "So are you ready for a threesome? I've got a place just around the corner."
Pam and Sam locked eyes with the instant realization that they'd both been set up. Without saying a word, Pam slid out of the booth, and guided the drunk into the spot she'd just vacated. She slid back in. Sam began cooing into the man's ear, running a hand through his hair. On his other side, Pam fondled that ear and loudly said. "Is this the kind of sandwich you'd like, sweetie?"
They continued the farce for several more minutes. Once the three pranksters realized that their joke hadn't played out as planned, they came to the booth and helped to remove the drunk, who was now nearly asleep. They called a cab and escorted him out. The three men hadn't apologized for the joke, but seemed to appreciate the fact that the women had managed to turn it back on them so easily, and hadn't made a big deal about being played.
After the men left, Sam and Pam stayed. Sitting on opposite sides of the booth now, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Could you believe that?"
"I know! Wham bam, thank you ma'am? I thought they only said that in porn movies and letters to Penthouse."
"Samantha Carter! Miss Priss! What would you know about porn movies and Penthouse?"
Sam blushed. She absolutely hated how easily she turned red. "Well, that's what I've heard. I wouldn't know from first hand knowledge."
Even as the words came out, she knew that she sounded like a prudish, uptight old woman. She had been acting the way that Pam had said. And she was tired of doing what she was supposed to do all time. Of behaving the way her father or the Air Force or society said that Ladies should behave. Pam was right; she did need to get the stick out of her butt. Might as well start now.
"Oh hell. I grew up with a father in the military and an older brother, so of course I know about the letters to Penthouse and porn movies. Not a good way to learn about sex, by the way, unless you're into dwarves and really bad soundtracks."
Pam roared with laughter and said, "Now that's the Sam Carter I've always suspected was inside that robotic shell. I saw you crack a smile at one of those awful jokes that Plummer used to tell in General Psychology last year, and you caught some of the more subtle ones too, the ones that no one else was laughing at. I was almost snorting at some of his Holy Grail references, but I thought no one else must be a fan. I could see your shoulders shaking, though, so I knew you got them too. Anyone who loves Holy Grail can't be as uptight as you pretend to be. That's why I pushed you so hard. I couldn't think of another way to get closer to you. You're always studying or hanging out with the other brains, and I didn't think you'd want to talk with someone like me. It's probably a stupid way to go about it, but that's the way I am sometimes - a sarcastic bitch. Usually only with people I like, though."
After this long speech, Sam was at a loss as to how to respond. Pam was unlike anyone she'd ever known, and she was flattered that Pam had apparently sought her out and worked to forge this friendship.
Trying to keep a straight face and sound offended, she said
"Well, you certainly are a bitch, I'll give you that."
Pam looked hurt for a moment, but Sam couldn't keep a grin from breaking out, and Pam's relief was obvious.
Sam snorted, "You should have seen your face just now. It was almost as bad as when the drunk first came over."
"My face? You should have seen your face when he started chanting. I thought your head was going to explode."
"You know, it he hadn't been so over the top, I might have bought it and still be pissed at you. But what a buffoon!"
"Actually I was insulted that you'd think I'd sink so low as to be in cahoots with that bunch of yahoos. I'll have you know that my sense of humor is much more sophisticated than that."
"Oh, so Monty Python is sophisticated? That's not quite the way I'd describe the Holy Grail."
Pam laughed and said, "Well ok, so not all of my tastes are sophisticated. But there's no way I'd work with those jerks and their adolescent pranks to set up another woman. We get enough of the "boys' club" attitude at the Academy."
Sam nodded in agreement, and said, "I do get tired of smiling and accepting it all the time, don't you?
"Oh man, don't even get me started on that. We'd be here all night. I don't think of myself as a radical feminist, but these boys sure do try my patience. And I do mean boys. Too many of them act like they're still twelve-year olds."
"You're giving them too much credit. I've known twelve-year old boys who are more mature than some of these guys."
After that meeting, the two women were close friends for their remaining years at the Academy. They balanced each other. When Sam spent too much time buried in her books, Pam dragged her out for fun. When Pam needed tutoring in the hard sciences or math, Sam kept her on track. When Pam went overboard and mouthed off to the wrong person, Sam helped to smooth things over. When Sam was too shy or not forceful enough in standing up for herself, Pam helped her to be more vocal, and backed her up.
The two had different careers in mind, however. Sam wanted to fly airplanes, preferably fighter jets, with the ultimate goal of becoming an astronaut. Pam wanted to fly as well, but helicopters. They had endless debates about the merits of fixed wing versus rotary wing. Both admitted to being action junkies, and Pam used this factor as one of her main arguments in favor of piloting helicopters.
"Face it Sam. The no-combat rule means that you'll never be a fighter pilot, so you'll never get close to actual combat in an airplane. But women are allowed to fly helicopters in support roles, which means that they can get close to combat. In a helicopter, I might actually get a chance to do some good – to do something to defend the country or at least help the guys that are in combat."
Of course this particular debate was never resolved. Neither could be persuaded to change their minds, and after graduation each requested assignment in their preferred field.
Over the years, Sam and Pam kept in touch by phone and mail, but then Sam lost track of Pam. One year, the usual birthday and Christmas cards from Pam didn't come, and Sam's cards to Pam were returned. Sam attempted to find out where Pam was stationed, but ran into roadblocks whenever she tried. When she talked to Pam's family, they were evasive, saying only that they hadn't heard from her lately.
Eventually, Sam gave up, assuming that Pam would contact her when she was ready or when she returned from whatever assignment kept her out of touch. Finding her friend at SERE was totally unexpected.
Author's note: still not done