Wisconsin Outpost: Homeland (Chapter Two)

We both were hungry. Susan ate three grilled cheeses a big can of thick beef stew and two glasses of Riesling. I ate four grilled cheeses; the other can of thick stew and a glass of wine. We talked and laughed of staying together, we deiced on her parent’s house as it was nicer and she needed help with. Plus David may have been many things but he had it paid for. Well I knew from the look, she needed help setting her family to rest.

Susan fell asleep on the couch watching the DVD “up the river” a comedy that was one of Mary’s favorites. Poor kid was out. I covered her with a blanket then I set to cleaning up. The human factor can never be underestimated. As a Medic, the words “you’re going to be alright” are as important as the treatment. People need to hear that. People need to be touched. People need to be reassured. Nothing worse than a pale white medic going into shock. All because your bleeding profusely from the arm with a served artery. Nah, I wouldn’t let that happen to anyone.
It didn’t take me long to clean the place up. It never does. I finished cleaning and packed my pipe and took a long pull as I started out the window. The sun was out. There were at least three of the quarantine signs in front yards. My street is small, pass the tracks were more they dotted the landscape. No one was out. Which was odd? There was a time children played all hours of the day and night here? Now, I am not a rocket scientist and do not consider myself a genius among men, but you did not have to be a flipping savant to figure out this was wrong. No children, no people. Yeah this was as fucked up as it got.

I headed into the bathroom and stripped down. WOW I stunk! Really I haven’t stunk that bad since I was in Panama on deployment. FUNKY! I would shave after I washed. Daman I felt like a pig. Why didn’t Susan say anything? Silly girl. I turned on the water and let it warm up. I always detested our shower. It got to hot then you had to fiddle with the single knob until it got just right. Which took about three tries. It was either too Hot, Too cold and if you were lucky threes a charm.

I stood there for a moment enjoying the water. Water is a clear ritual throughout the world. Baptisms, Healing, Life giver, Spring, birthing. It gives life and cleanses. Great symbolism in water. So even though I have no spiritual beliefs, I went into my own intellectual enjoyment of water. It has come full circle now from a time we turned on a tap and there it was. To sponge bathing in a bucket when you can. A full bath, FUCK heaven. A shower, even better. But those are few and far between now unless you had something rigged up and have water.

So enjoying the warm water hitting my body. Washing away the stink. I lathered the scrounge and set to work. Scrubbing all my pieces and parts. Making sure I got every where I could reach. This took me less than 10 minutes. Thirteen years in Uncle Sam’s service with teach you how to wash yourself quick. This is my cruising speed. I can do it in about three minutes. I pulled the shower curtain back. It’s blue with a clear mesh top about three quarters of the way up. Yeah I am paranoid. I grew up and hit my teens in the eighties. Every late seventies and eighties horror movie ever made I have seen. I do not like bad surprises.

I grabbed the towel I laid out on the sink and dried off in the shower. I wiped the mirror down and then thought it would clear faster if I open a window. Which I did, the cool September air penetrating the way a cold breeze will. I look shaggy. I wet my face down again grab my soap cup add some water , stir the badger hair brush around and begin to leather that old round face. I am not great looking, but then again, I am not bad either. I smile at these thoughts. I can gladly say I have had my share of kisses in my day. Lady admirers and the not. I was no Casanova but still, I stole a kiss or two. This makes me remember Mary’s kisses, and hmmm. That’s all I’ll say on that.

Anyway, even now where woman my age; I was 37 then. Say I am not bad looking and even though I am a little thick in the middle I still look like someone who worked out. One doesn’t get thrown all over mat three times a week and not retain something. But looking at my face I looked old. I wondered where that cavalry man of years past was. That young lad who liked like Vin Diesel at one time. NO lie! Ahhh he’s Gone. Just nerdy me here now. I think this as I leather my face and head. Good riddance to him, he was kind of an ass. The Chinese say youth is wasted on the young. They are right. It is.

I grabbed the strop hanging on the wall, rinsed my hands and grabbed the strait razor I had had since the Army. You weren’t allowed to have them, but everyone looked the other way. Since 1987 I used a straight razor and only bought regular razors when I was in a school or on temporary assignment and the rules listed I couldn’t have one. I bought the 7 piece kit from a German guy at Knox and I look at razors now, a mach III will run you nearly ten bucks for seven blades. I bought the set for a hundred and fifteen dollars then. A fine investment if I do say so myself. My German made carbon steel straight razor has the same sharp tang it did when they hand assembled it. I rinsed off the blade, gave it a couple of strokes on the strop and proceeded to shave. The bread and face are hard at first. I endured plenty of cuts. But with patience and time you get good at it. But of you have ever cut yourself with a regular razor I can assure you a strait blade is much worse. It’s the first few placements that are nerve racking. When you first touch the blade to your skin. After that you think you have it. That’s when you need to be vigilant.

I finished up my face and then my skull, like shearing a sheep. That’s what it reminded me of. I have tight afro like hair even though I am German and Spanish. It is ritualistic when you groom yourself, when I shave my head it’s like I am preparing for battle. Getting cleaned up to present myself. Weather its me, competition or a meeting. My facial hair comes in weird so I shave maybe every three to four days when I am not in the presents of clients. I realized I may never teach specialty software again. Wonder how the company is doing.

I finished up trimming my beard and mustache. I do not like it to thick. That bothers me. But a little is fine. Men can be as fickle as woman. Really, we all have something. I looked at my watch nearly eleven thirty. Wow, I have been at it a while. I rinse the blade and set it on a clean hand towel to dry. I will have to oil it later. I wrapped the towel around me, cleaned up the sink and placed the dirty clothes in the hamper. Susan was still sleeping, as I made my way half naked to the bed room. I am not modest in any way, in fact I am a little bold. But then again, I shut my door so it was a jar. I looked though my closest and picked a pair of tan cargoes, a white tee shirt a checked greenish polo. Place them neatly on the bed, sat down, threw on some socks, a pair of boxer briefs. Yeah you heard me. I’m older, I like my comfort.

Tossed on the pants, then tee. Slipped in to the polo. A little pit stick, Musk, and some Drak Noir and I felt my old self. Then it hit, they were dead. Brian and Mary. I breathed deeply and squared my jaw. “They’re gone, speak of it no more.” I ordered myself, the ole Sarge coming out again. I pushed it aside and looked for my money clip. Found it, counted the bills, Forty seven dollars. Hopefully the banks were up yet. Since the Depression it was illegal for a bank to close more than three days in a row. Stupid trivia, I am a master of it. I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of joe. My thoughts of Mary came again and I pushed them down hard. Trying to lock them down.

When I was a young man in medical school for the army I had a lovely little girlfriend the type of woman you never thought you could have.

Long story short, she waved goodbye to me in San Antonio, Leaving a bar we were all hanging out in. As she got into the taxi. A car side swiped it, I remember seeing her head impact at the door frame and knew then she was dead. I rushed to her, and got to her as her head bounced off the fucking road. Funny it seemed so surreal. I remember the blood dripping out of her ear, I looked at the other one, not wanting to touch her yet, not sure of the extent of her injuries. Blood out of the other ear. My Mother was a Nurse in Nam, she always said if both ears are bleeding, their going to die. I asked a doctor he said hat was not true. Unless, you were in combat conditions. DUH doc, way to go. Then I saw her eyes. That empty stare. She was gone. Checked her pulse on the neck confirmed it on her wrist. I screamed to the taxi driver as I ran to his door. “Are you ok?” I was yelling. He was in shock. I reached through the window and grabbed his shoulder. They say gentle shakes, fuck that. If their hurt you’ll find out fast. I’m here to save lives. I know Spinal cord injuries and all that. But how many boys you pull from a burning tank, or out of a crashed helicopter when it’s going to blow.

“Are you ok?” I spoke in to his face with my Sergeant voice. “What happened?” the Hispanic man asked as he looked to the rear of the taxi for his passenger. This fuck was fine, my rage was boiling. I turned to the car that started this shit storm. “You fuck” I screamed. “You fucker” I said as I pushed past a man looking at the car that did this. I yanked open the door. I do not know what I was going to do. Jen was dead. You can love many people a lot of different ways. I was a military bad ass, Lived hard, trained hard, drank hard. Well you get the picture. Most people were afraid of me. I just had that look to me without me ever saying one word. Jen was a good girl, she liked me, and she pegged me right away. We got on great. I loved her because she just liked me, for me. Hard to explain. I wiped open the door, it was stuck I yanked it and it opened.

There was a man, the poor bastard had to be in his eighties, his head had hit the steering wheel so hard, I could see brain matter. I calmly checked the pulse. Nothing. I sat down on the ground in hollow. My rage vanished. My pound of flesh denied. This incident was stupid, so useless, no reason, later I would find out the old man had an heart attack. Lost control and both died for no reason. That is the reality of life. Plain and simple.

A week later I was drinking away her memory. When I was talking with Staff Sergeant Groh. He was a seventeen year veteran who had served in Nam. I liked him. Now if you have never had the pleasure of military service. Now and then you meet men, superiors, who you bond with immediately and you know you would follow them to hell and back. Groh was one of these men. Always in good spirits, plenty of common sense experience and three tours in a war America would never forget.

Well I was snaky by this time and I started to talk of Jen, how I missed her. When ole Sergeant Groh grabs me by the back of the neck and says. “She gone. That’s it.” I went on in drunken ramblings when he shook me. Hard.” Sergeant Kabe” he barked. ‘She’s gone. There’s nothing you can do to change that.” Ever hear a man’s voice go hard and comforting at the same time. It is like a directive. That’s the only way to explain it. We stared at each other for a long moment. I saw in his eyes he had lost a lot of people. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he had seen. Yes I could. I got it. I can’t explain it, but I got it. I nodded. He smiled and lead me to the bar. “Let’s drink her a toast and have a good time, in her honor.” He said as he flagged the bartender down. We had our drink and I moved on. Now I won’t say this was healthily but I will let you know I moved on. I think of her now and then and in my own way I dealt with it all. We do move on. Another plain and simple truth.

I think it helped in High School in the 80’s we went threw a string of suicides, alcohol and drug related deaths and I mean a string from the summer of eighty four till eighty seven, we lost around fifteen kids. Many were my friends. Even for a school of a little over a thousand it affects you. Whether you knew them or not. One day your talk with Smiddty, the next week your burying him. He choked to death on his own vomit while drink, Natchez suicide after a car accident, he lost 25 percent mobility in his legs. He was a football star, his dad found him. Hanging in the garage. The Bamer brothers plunged in to a semi the night after I gave Gary a smoke. They were coming back from an Ozzy Concert. Hell we had two dumb freaks shoot each other playing chicken, I could figure out that one. By the time I was seventeen, I knew everyone died. I buried a lot of class men, death was easy, living was hard.

Back in the kitchen I packed another pipe and thought I should just go back to cigarettes. I made my way into the living room where Susan was asleep. I grabbed the remote and switched over the DVD to CNN. This was the beginning of my worst fears. Every horror movie, every book, every worst case scenario. Come to life for me in about thirty minutes. What I saw and heard, chilled me and brought out something and someone I thought was gone a long time ago. As much as I wanted to say no, I knew this was coming. Hell I was even clam.

Susan’s look of shock as she shot up in confusion. Looking at me trying to understand the comment I was making to what I witnessed.


“Fuck me, Oh Just fuck me."

Long Pull off the pipe


"I hate being right……………”