Here's a light chapter. Hope you like it. In all honesty, I had forgotten what I was writing and still don't remember the finer details so I might have to read my whole story just to know where the hell was I going and at what pace. Let me know any mistakes and I'll fix them. I'm operating on suboptimal mental capacity right now, brain at half mast and all...
Thanks to NY Gal, Anime and Radar for their reviews and welcome back to Pathseldomtraveled. I look forward to your reviews and in all honesty, the lukewarm response contributed to this delay almost as much as lack of time if not more. Do review and let me know if you liked it or hated it or were generally apathetic towards it.
Happy reading!
Chapter 87
Post-op, or more correctly, the thought of returning to post-op made me sick. For a moment, I tried to recall all the places I could go to outside of or besides what comprised my current hovel and remembered how, during a small fit of insanity, all I could think of was leaving Crabapple Cove and even Maine. Even Augusta seemed too small for my ego back then. Boston and New York were the only fitting places for someone like me.
Take this, mon Capitane!
Shaking my head at the flight of ideas, I returned to my beloved Swamp, home away from home away from home.
That's too many homes away from home!
Good thing nobody can hear you; you sure sound crazy.
Swamp looked clean. Debris left by me on the floor and around every nook and cranny available seemed less. I blamed it on missing my cot for all too many hours. Hoping to avoid that dreaded dream of a memory long forgotten, I lied down fully clothed after putting some of Frank's stationary into the heater. It always seemed that Swamp was colder than outside. Maybe they made olive drab in a way that it let heat enter and not leave in summers and in winters, switched roles by letting all heat out and cold in. Maybe the designers were from Alaska and were out to punish those who refused their claim to statehood.
During these senseless musings, I must have fallen asleep because next thing was an unceremonious awakening that was only attributable to BJ.
"Have you no compassion?" I asked BJ as I woke up and felt the kinks in my neck and back.
"I thought I was doing you a favor. Your body language reminded me of times when women dump you."
"You blasé, monogamopathic being! You think they dump me...Body language? Why did you say body language?" I looked at him suspiciously and then at myself and quickly got off my cot before one of his pranks got me unawares.
"Relax, Captain Pierce! I didn't do anything." He smiled cryptically. My hand was dry and so were my clothes, I hoped. He couldn't have done the age old trick on me.
"Hunnicut! You've got the most pervasively evil sense of humor of anyone I've ever encountered. I can never be careful enough." Making sure there were no accidents, I settled on my cot again and stared at BJ who seemed somewhat relaxed though not as much as I was hoping for.
"Stop trying, Hawkeye. You won't know what hit you anyway." Potter drawled from behind. Was it me or had they all suddenly gone completely stealthy?
"What's going on here, Colonel?" I looked at them both as I heard the door open and entered Radar and Father Mulcahy.
"Its poker night, Hawkeye!" Father Mulcahy cheerfully informed me as Radar and BJ started setting the table.
"I won't put it that way, Padre. There is more to this meeting than just poker." Potter spoke seriously but with that man, I was never sure if he was about to let out a cowboy whoop, a loud bark of an order or the most straight-faced joke that I'd ever heard. Or all three at the same time for that matter.
"Yeah! BJ got some stuff from Seoul, Father. He even got me six bottles of Grape Nehi." Radar chirped from behind his foggy glasses.
"You know, we never had Grape Nehis in Mill Valley. I had to try and find out how it tasted and wasn't surprised why it wasn't easily available anywhere in California, let alone Mill Valley." BJ tried not to smile but couldn't help it as he saw Radar's color change and expressions, harden a little.
"Radaar! BJ is not making fun of Ottumwa, you, OR Grape Nehi. You know how insensitive these West Coast people are about all things East." I tried to soothe Radar's ruffled feathers.
"You're not any better, Sir! Did you ever drink Grape Nehi?" Radar asked me accusatorily and BJ looked smug.
"Remember night of Thanksgiving? You got me one and I drank it." A night better best forgotten.
"You didn't finish it." And to think I was trying to get BJ out of a jam.
"I had to leave, remember?" And then changed the subject, "What did you get for us, Beej? You did win a jeepful of dollars if I recall correctly." I diverted my attention to BJ whose face expressions changed for all of a few short moments and his smile, dimmed.
"Just get ready for the surprise, Hawk."
"Tell me its not first class brandy. I won't be able to resist and then you'll have to write to my dad..." I looked at him hungrily and then got up from my cot and started looking behind his cot and every place else for any signs of the surprise.
"SIT DOWN Pierce!" Potter bellowed after I refused to return to poker table in favor of my quest for booty.
"But Colonel..." I started whining but was cut short by yet another entrance into the Swamp. Margaret seemed fresh out of laundry, clean, nice smelling and fresh. She was followed by Klinger who had a big tray in his hands which was full of sandwiches.
"As ordered, Cap'n Hunnicut. Deal me in!" He placed the tray aside and settled heavily on one of the chairs.
"What's this?" I picked a sandwich and started sniffing it when Margaret slapped my hand, "HEY!" I yelped loudly, almost dropping the sandwich which smelled almost nothing like anything I had smelled in this craphole over last year and half.
"Stop acting like the camp mutt, would you?" Margaret spoke through clenched teeth.
"I have to savor this. I have to saturate all my senses. I have to make a permanent memory. Who knows when I have this sensory treat again? You hit me again and I'll put ink in your peroxide solution," I feigned anger as I started the ritual all over again ignoring the sudden flush in her cheeks, " Hmmmm. Toasted rye bread. And corned beef. Personally, I'm partial to pastrami but ...Aaaahhhh. And sauerkraut. WHO MADE THIS SAUERKRAUT?"
"Can you stop being a five year old and a drama queen all at once? And focus on your hand?" BJ smiled and chastised me at the same time.
"Buzzkill!" I checked my hand which, according to Trapper, resembled more to a foot and returned to my description of the sandwich, "I asked who made this sauerkraut? Please somebody tell me its origins are not our mess, Please!"
"Its not! I'll see your two and raise you two." BJ spoke disinterestedly. I was amazed why everybody else was so cavalier towards this rare treat? Who could care about poker when we had such goodness in front of us?
"Its NOT?" I asked loudly and was rebuffed again as I got back to my sniffing.
"You don't wanna play, go away. We have a serious game planned here. And stop screaming in my ear." Margaret again spoke as if I was talking about mess-made mess called food. Did she realize...?
"Margaret, do you realize what BJ did here? If I were you, I would give him all my money and enjoy this meal in peace. If I were you, I would actually kiss BJ. Hell, if I were me I would kiss BJ." I got up from my chair but my effort was thwarted by Margaret and Potter both.
"Pierce! Just shut up and eat. And stop sniffing it!"
"Pierce. Keep sitting where you are!" Potter waved at me.
"Thousand Island Dressing. You know why its called Thousand Island Dressing?" When nobody paid me any attention, I carried on anyway, "Its because it was named in Thousand Island region in upstate New York. Beej, is the cheese real Swiss?"
"Captain Pierce! Its your turn." Klinger tried to break my focus but he wasn't going to succeed. Not tonight! After elaborating every single component and condiment of this heavenly treat, I ate while they played and ate. I wasn't going to ruin the memory of this sandwich with a game of poker. If there was one thing worse than mixing business with pleasure, it was mixing pleasure with pleasure. BJ had also brought ginger ale for me and even though it wasn't beer, it was the next best thing. For a while there, I forgot all about the war, the hopelessness, the loss and the pain of helplessness.
I just hoped I could return his favor in kind.
P.S. When I'm bone tired, the only thing that makes me write is the reviews besides my own desire to finish the story. Don't make me explain this, alright!
Happy reviewing ;)