More from After the Ice Breaks
Saturday, January 31st, 2009Here’s another little story from the After the Ice Breaks collection–this one is a continuation of a scene that occurs in Candy Land.
Cali Moves On
One drip splattered the windshield. It sounded like a giant insect abruptly reduced to bug splat. Jons peered out the window at the ominous clouds on the horizon.
Plunk. Splutter. Splat.
Swirling rivulets obscured the glass as the truck cruised along at highway speed. Jons turned to his friend in the driver’s seat. “Two days ago it was below zero—now it’s raining!?”
Tony glanced back, his solemn expression illuminated like a comic book hero for just an instant by a flash of lightening.
“It’s damn strange—I’ve never celebrated New Years with thunderstorms before,” said Tony with a forced chuckle.
Jons tried to seem unconcerned, but his fists clenched with each rumble. It reminded him of Baghdad—or any number of nameless towns and villages he’d seen during his tour.
Tony flipped on the wipers, his eyes narrowed on the road, but his voice resonated the confidence and reassurance of his rank. “Just a few miles yet, then we’re home.”
Jons laughed, convinced even though he realized that underneath the practiced calm, Tony was tense too. “Yes sir, Captain.”
In the second seat a dark form stretched and sat up.
“Rain?”
Both men glanced in the mirror at the black haired woman. There was no hint of surprise on her perfectly formed features and something about this acceptance frightened them. Tony shook himself and Jons tensed. He was used to danger. Hell, he’d spent nearly every day for the last…Lord he’d forgotten how many years, up to his cojones in the stuff. But it had never seemed so certain before. Tony’s reflected eyes met Cali’s in the rearview mirror.
“Can’t we at least get home?”
The woman’s voice was deep and strangely mellow. “You’re home.”
Both men looked out. In front of them aqua colored steel girders loomed in repeating arcs over the Potomac. Virginia lay on the far side of that bridge. Even through the gray downpour Jons could see it—home.
***
“Why would you agree to a rematch?” Jons hissed trying to look nonchalant through his clenched teeth. He poured coffee into disposable cups and shoved one at Tony.
“I beat her once,” Tony replied, his eyes twinkling in anticipation.
Jons stared at the captain for a moment. If anyone could beat death at her own game—and do it twice—it was this man.
“You should have gone with the others,” Tony said quietly, the former cockiness gone. “Then the only life I’d be gambling would be my own.”
“Yeah,” Jons grumbled. “Cause that’s the kind of friend I am.”
Tony grinned and placed his meaty hand on Jons’ shoulder before turning, heading to the far table where Cali and the chess set waited. From across the room Jons thought the fell, black- Alabaster queen glistened far brighter than the surrounding pieces. It gave him a queasy feeling
Jons spent the night alone in a plastic red booth, legs propped on the seat, arm draped over the table, doing his best to ignore the Chess match, while not thinking too much. Not thinking was a skill military life had perfected in him. Not so much ignoring. He swallowed down his gut instinct to fall back, only to find it replaced by the urge to attack.
“That’d look good,” he said to himself having just gulped the last of Hairi, the gas station attendant’s vodka. “Iraq war vet returns home and murders innocent woman in local gas station—that’s what the headline would read.”
If there were any newspapers to report it, he remembered. Momentarily distracted, Jons pondered. Their must be newspapers somewhere—not here on the east coast, but further inland. During his internal musings his mind drifted off-completely and Jons slept, head tilted back against the wall , until a gentle shake woke him.
“You don’t look very comfortable,” Cali said with a wan smile.
“I’m fine.”
She nodded and turned away.
“Any idea when you’ll be finished,” he asked.
“We’re done.” Cali raked Jons with her gray eyes and he turned away in spite of himself. “Your captain beat me again” she added. “And we’re leaving first thing tomorrow.”
In that moment she did not seem so alarming, and for the next several hours Jons remained convinced that she was just an ordinary girl. Right up until the storm.
“Can’t we at least get home?”
The woman’s voice was deep and strangely mellow. “You’re home—and besides, Tony, you won.”
Both men looked out. In front of them aqua colored steel girders loomed in repeating arcs over the Potomac. Virginia lay on the far side of that bridge. Even through the gray downpour Jons could see it—home.
“I can never go home.” Tony’s words were barely audible. Knuckels white on the steering wheel, he glanced at Jons. “We can never go home.”
***
“Two men, both Caucasian. Just back from Iraq from the looks of it.” A Point of Rocks police officer spoke into his cell phone. “Drove right off the side, here between the bank and the bridge. Hell, they’d’ve almost had to be tryin.” The officer shook his head. “Damn shame. I’ve got their papers right here. Send an ambulance for the bodies and we’ll notify next of kin.”
The officer slammed the door of his patrol car and pulled back onto the road, leaving the river and bridge behind. He tossed his phone on the passenger seat and focused on the road. Despite nearly twenty years in uniform, accidents always made him a bit cautious. For a moment his eyes dropped to the speedometer and the officer passed without notice a tall, dark clad woman striding toward the canal.