“Would she hear me...if I called her name...

Would she hold me...if she knew my shame...” -Mathew Tuck

The water was about as cold as a frozen seal and Malcolm couldn’t help but shiver. He was in the middle of washing what little hair he had grown since his last cut. He began to drum his foot on the floor as he practiced his deep breathing which made the cold easier to embrace.

Bernard’s alright, I shouldn’t insult him by grouping him with those other two. He provided you with fresh ink after all. Now the OTHER two… Bishop is too fickle minded to be effective at leading anything more than a platoon. As for Raynes…he’s green. He’s untested in live combat and I don’t care how well educated he is, if you haven’t spent time in active duty then your men are not going to look up to you. The moment World War Three breaks out he’ll be the first to desert.

Since Summer started, I’ve been wondering how many children could a coward like that propagate? What would that coward’s mind even look like? Einstein’s had far more creases, with all the information stuffed in there. Whereas the smooth brain has nothing to be stored.

So, what of the craven? Will his adrenal glands be smaller or larger? Will he have more grey matter? How much do I have? I’d need to buy an advanced microscope just to get an idea of this...

Now now…Don’t be crazy…You’re married. How are you gonna factor that with your collection of tools? Raynes is getting on a plane to Florida tonight. So, you gotta shoot both as they pull out of the Fort, then quickly appear by Meryl’s side once again. And what’s the point of doing that if you’re not gonna learn what his Brain looks like?

Hmmm…There’s no explaining my absence to Meryl. Instead, I could just long con this. I know he’s from Fort Lauderdale; it’s just a game of patience. I can learn where he lives. I could just go on one of my hunting trips; it wouldn’t technically be a lie after all. Get there, conduct a ‘blooded depiction’ before disposing of them to the crocodiles. During which, I will kill a croc and bring it back home to be stuffed. A reasonable alibi if I’m home quickly and I’ll have a trophy…of some sorts.

...You’re gonna keep a trophy of the thing that ate your trophy? What’s the point of that?

In that case I could just make a brand-new hideout to bring them.

…A ‘brand-new’ hideout? This is a slippery slope to a new spree, and you know it. First, you’ll make the lamps you wanted, next you’ll be hard pressed to construct an entire boney exoskeleton to wear like armor. Armor you could never actually wear; if you were in a standoff with the police while wearing THAT, you could get hit with just a rubber bullet and the bones would shatter. The effect would be just like shrapnel...

Well, I suppose that’s better than being taken alive.

And what if they come for you while you’re at home? You want Meryl to get SWATTED? You want to see her in handcuffs too? You want her last memory of you to be ripping a Pig’s throat open before the SWAT team guns you down?

It doesn’t have to reach that point…There’s no reason why I can’t stop after this last time…I already did...

It’s already escalating with two people.

…I stopped it for her. Besides, it’ll happen again, if not as an expression, it’ll be during my next tour. If I just cut myself off from the Carnal Beast, it will always control me.

There was a rasping laughter within Malcolm’s head.

You can barely control yourself: First, you’ll be suspected of Raynes death, when that happens, they’ll book you. After that, they’ll question what Meryl did or didn’t know; when that happens, you’ll start talking without a lawyer present. In exchange for accommodated conditions, Meryl’s security, and infamy on the Reddit threads; you will fork over the answers to cold case files, snitch on men who you served with, and you’ll laugh at the face of the detective who must step outside to call the FBI...Then…it will stop being funny the second Meryl files for divorce. Remember Ridgeway? Remember Rayder? Even if you manage to get better conditions than they did, you will never see her again and she’ll never know that it would’ve been anybody but her.

...She’ll at least visit me once...

And you think she’ll let you see Connor? She’ll blame herself for even giving birth to him and he will grow up knowing that his father was a monster. The kids at his school will avoid him like a bird with the flu. He’ll see the commercial for HLN’s documentary about you and he’ll always have to turn to his mother for answers, ripping her wounds back open and filling his head with thoughts of you… Thoughts that aren’t of you tucking him in at night.

…Where were you when I got started? Huh?

I am a muscle. I can’t feel the way you feel.

So, what are you? And if you don’t want me to get caught, why did you speak to the guys out there?

…But that wasn’t me. It was you…

Stop lying.

Slice yourself open if you don’t believe me. There’s no one else inside except for you.

A rapping on the bathroom door broke Malcolm’s train of thought and the shivers came back to him; a bellowing sound muffled over the shower stream and the bathroom fan. All Malcolm could make out was “-the fuck up!”

Please don’t try to be clever. That’s what I’m for.

“I’ll get out when I’m damn well ready!” Malcolm opened the curtains to yell.

Well, I suppose I didn’t ask you to be nice.

Malcolm was standing in front of the door with his hand on the knob; he panicked and looked down. There was water leaking across the floor, the towel had been put up, and he was already wearing the trousers he had brought with him. His thoughts were silent.

Slowly, he turned the knob and emerged into the dormitory where a fully dressed Bernard and Raynes sat across from each other on the bunks as Bishop paced the room. “It’s about damn time jackass!” Bishop stated. “You’ve been in there forty minutes!”

“So, where the hell is the food?” Malcolm quipped.

“We’re not getting takeout,” said Bernard, “We’re thinking Waffle House.”

Malcolm stared. “But they don’t have the chicken sandwich I wanted.”

“Oh, for the love of God!” Bishop groaned.

“Now now…We’re three out of four on this one.” Bernard reassured him.

“But I knew he was going to do this.”

“And you called me a contrarian.” Raynes inserted.

“Democracy prevails.” Bernard assured again.

“True democracy forms a united front.” Malcolm casually stated as he crossed to the dresser for a white shirt.

“All in favor of a united front against the Space Dog’s chicken sandwich?” Bishop asked and raised his hand; Raynes immediately followed.

Bernard shrugged across from him. “Look man, tt’s about splitting the check.”

When Malcolm looked at the clock, the time was eleven fifty-three.

As they were leaving, he began to daydream about the last time he got to see Meryl. She was so proud of him that she nearly cried. The last time he talked to her was last night before she left the house for Fort Benning, and she was less proud. He could tell by her sigh when he told her that he would be making ‘Captain’ instead of ‘Warrant Officer’.

“I thought McElroy was trying to fast-track you out of the field?” she had said over the phone.

“I’m close to my boys honey…”

“But…Are you saying you signed up for this?”

“Of course, I did…” Malcolm tried to sound sweet.

“But the whole point of all this was so you could become an officer.”

“I am.” He assured. “I’m just expected to fight still.”

“Mal, that’s why I’m scared…” She sounded shrill.

“Honey, I’m comfortable doing this with the people I came up with; I don’t know the people in the officer corps. And when you’re an auxiliary to the command staff, you’re on the chopping block when things go wrong. In the field I’m friends with almost everyone. Besides, it’s not like I’m capped; McElroy will probably want to advance me to Major after my second tour as Captain, if not the third.”

“Do you know how much could happen in that time?” Meryl was nervous.

“I promise you that everything is going to be okay.”

“You can’t promise me that!” She said. “Have you been watching the news lately? You know who’s running for president, right?”

“Honey, there’s not gonna be a World War Three, an invasion, or even terrorist attack. ISIS is on the ropes. The Koreans are dick wagers. Iran would be a repeat of Vietnam and the bosses know it.”

“And did what they know stop them from pressing on anything in the past?” She asked.

“It would take a whole other Nine Eleven for that to happen.”

“And then where will you be? You won’t be here!”

“Hopefully? I’ll oversee Five hundred men. And they’ll be doing everything for me.” Malcolm continued to sway. “Sooner or later, I’ll be a Lieutenant Colonel. I’m just choosing to climb the ranks as traditionally as I can.”

A long silence followed. “Okay Rico.” She sighed, “If that’s what you want then…”

“So, you’re still coming?” Malcolm asked dumbly.

She had calmed down. “Of course, I’m coming. I was just getting ready.”

“Are you naked?” Malcolm smiled.

She chuckled, “I was talking about the truck, it’s almost done.”

“You’re not taking the plane?” Malcolm asked.

“Nope. I’ve already got the night bag good to go. I’ll leave around ten tomorrow.”

“Darling, you don’t have to bring my truck.” Malcolm told her. “You love your car.”

“I know, but I want to, so I’m doing it.” She was politely snide.

“And your cool with us stopping at a hotel?”

“Night bag.”

“Ya know what?” Malcolm’s grin turned wider. “I was thinking maybe we pull over and sleep in the truck’s bed.”

“Or maybe the hammock?” She spoke flirtatiously. “What are you thinking?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Malcolm started to hiss. “Of the two of us suspended in the air as we fuck.”

She laughed. “You trying to get us in trouble?”

“Yes.” Malcolm continued his hissy tone.

“I would’ve been up for that back in the day...” She answered.

“Well don’t let me keep you from sleeping, honey.”

“You think I need sleep?” She asked,

“You work at a hospital.”

“Speak of you!” She returned to the subject. “What with your big day tomorrow?”

“You’re right…I love you.” Malcolm told her.

“I love you too.”

***

“Nelson! Two hands!” Bernard barked in Malcolm’s right ear, who returned to what is loosely referred to as the Present Time. He quickly got his bearings and grabbed the Jeep’s steering wheel ten two. They were driving south along the Fort Benning Boulevard, leading into the base. It was returning to him that they had just left the National Infantry Museum after touring Phoenix City; the time was sixteen-fifty.

“Give me my phone.” Malcolm ordered, feeling as if he had literally been teleported.

“Fuck you! You’re on the wheel!” Bernard said.

“Then turn it on for me.” Malcolm persisted.

“Fine.” Bernard grabbed it. “What’s your code?”

“Zero eight four six.” Malcolm answered. “I’m changing it, no offense.”

“None taken. So, what do you want?”

“Open my texts.” Malcolm said. “Send one to Meryl.”

“Fine. What do you…”

Malcolm was puzzled. “What?”

“Bro, you texted her back already. ‘We’re leaving the museum, honey. I’m really sorry about this. This wasn’t my decision; I should’ve brought you.” Bernard looked at him again. “Yea, she’s already on the base bro.”

“Why are you apologizing to her?” Raynes asked. “You don’t have to do everything with her, ya know?”

“Fuck that!” Bishop inserted himself, “You agreed to go. Why are you complaining about it to her?”

“I didn’t want to be a dick.” Malcolm said. “And it was your idea.”

“Be responsible and vocalize your disagreement next time.” Bishop continued. “I mean, we’re not in combat so I couldn’t give a shit what you wanted. But still, don’t bitch about it behind our backs.”

Malcolm was offended. “Jesus Christ man, I feel bad for leaving my wife, who’s excited to see me, wondering where I am!”

“...Can we not synchronize ourselves, ladies?” Stated Raynes.

That made everyone in the car look at Raynes, Malcolm adjusted the rear-view mirror at him.

“What?”

“You talk like that in front of Abigail?” Bernard asked.

“I’m perfectly myself around her.” Raynes posed confidence. “That’s the deal.”

“So yes?” Bernard asked again

“Well maybe I don’t say that but it ain’t like she’d be mad.”

“Still cringe. Not to mention wrong.” Malcolm stated.

“It’s a joke."

“And you suffer the consequence for it not landing.” Bernard drove the point.

“You’re being harder on me than you were this guy for passing Rape threats like it’s Stand up!” Raynes complained while pointing to Malcolm.

“He what?!” Bishops asked.

“Well, that was kind of funny.” Bernard answered. “Gave me a real ‘Joker’ vibe. Just more shocking then charming.”

“Nelson, tell me what you said.” Bishop ordered.

“No!” Both Bernard and Raynes projected.

Malcolm pulled back into the dormitories at seventeen o’ three. He quickly dashed to the entrance. He passed through the front lobby, greeting the receptionist, and made his way to the elevator. Without waiting on his friends, he pressed the third-floor button and the doors shut on Bishop as he ran up shouting, “Hey! Hey! H-“. Upon the third floor, Malcolm sprinted like an excited kid on vacation through the hallway. He entered his dormitory and wasted no time in opening the closet to retrieve the black dress shirt for his uniform. After quickly dawning it, he again crossed to the drawer by his bunk. Afterwards, he retrieved and pinned his decorations: The Distinguished Service Cross, the Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal, the Afghanistan Campaign Medal, the Soldier’s Medal, and the Army Overseas Service Ribbon.

Bernard, Bishop, and Raynes finally made their way inside as Malcolm buttoned up his dress shirt.

“YO! You couldn’t save room for us?” Bishop was cut off by Malcolm who moved him to the side. Malcolm strode down to the lobby and made his way back outside to the jeep.

He pulled up to the Holiday Inn after ten minutes and immediately scanned the parking lot for his pale Sierra, which he found to the left end withing seconds. He exited the Jeep and ran into the lobby. The receptionist was a comely fellow who maintained her post at the computer.

“Did a woman named ‘Meryl’ check in during the last hour?” he asked.

“I believe so,” she responded and turned her attention to the computer. After a few moments she told him, “It looks like she checked in at about four seventeen.”

“Yea, that’s her.” Malcolm said. “I’m her husband.”

She reached for a phone and dialed the room number. “Yes, this is the front lobby, I have a soldier here who says he’s your husband. His name is…”

“Malcolm.”

“…Yes, I had to make sure. I’ll send him right up.” She ended the call. “Well, she already knew you were coming. She’s in room seventeen on the first floor.”

“Thank you.” Malcolm then proceeded to bolt down the hallway past the desk, ignoring the elevator in favor of the staircase. After ascending, he was at the door to the first floor. After entering the hallway, he soon found the door to room seventeen. The door opened mid-rap and he nearly knocked Meryl on the forehead.

She pretended to wince as her head flinched back. “What? Do you think I’m gonna leave you hanging?”

Malcolm’s legs wobbled from under him. He moved in to hug her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Soon, Malcolm lifted his head to kiss her. As they kissed, he shut the door behind them and slowly guided her to the bedroom. He motioned her against the closet and gradually slid his arm off her shoulders and down her torso to caress her. He felt for her shirt, and she grabbed his hands before he could slide them against her skin.

“Okay,” she laughed and broke the kiss. “After twelve weeks apart, you can’t just fuck me before we’ve talked. And there’s another matter…” she wrapped her arm around his neck.

“Oh, just tell me…” Malcolm whispered as he closed his eyes, pressing his face against her cheek.

“Look behind you…” She pointed past his ear.

When Malcolm looked, there was little Connor sitting on the first bed to the right. “Dada…” he peeped with beady brown eyes and a head full of black hair.

Malcolm bolted off Meryl. “Hey buddy!” He swept his child off the bed and tossed him in the air as the toddler laughed and giggled. After the final catch, he held the boy against him as he looked back to Meryl, whom he’d viewed as Aphrodite since birthing their son.

They shared eye contact for a moment as Connor hugged his dad. Suddenly, the Beast in Malcolm wanted to confess before their goddess. Faces flashed before Malcolm, faces that had been with him since their dying breaths. Malcolm found his vision blurred as lightheadedness took him, yet he could still see the faces of the dead. Something...pounded in his heart and that pounding made him forget to breathe. A sensation of forlornness began to eat away at Malcolm’s skin as goosebumps raised his hairs.

He remembered the vows, “To love and to Cherish...In sickness and in Health...” Malcolm was before the Goddess, and he knew in his heart he represented her Other. The gentility of his smile could not change how cold he felt, despite his fear that she would feel it.

He closed in on her slowly and she returned the embrace with Connor pincered between them. Huddling like they were hibernating did not exchange the warmth needed to resuscitate Malcolm’s hollowness. He began to think he saw his exhalations like they were frost.

“What is it?” Meryl felt the tear running down Malcolm’s cheek. “Honey?” She parted from the hug and held his hand, smiling still.

“…It’s just…” Malcolm spoke involuntarily, “…I thought you were lying on the phone; I assumed you were telling me what I wanted to hear just so I’d be happy. I didn’t even think about you when I chose Captain…You put medical school on hold because I’m required to tour overseas. I’m supposed to be fair to you and I haven’t done a thing to help you in life; you wanted me to be at home more, and you deserve that from me.

…I love you more than I ever loved my own family. But I’m thinking of every kid I've left with nowhere else to turn to. Every time I go out there, I risk leaving the two of you with nowhere else….

…I was a pyromaniac when I was in middle school. You don’t even know that part. When Mom and Dad were out, I’d burn anything from cardboard in my sink to Anthills in the backyard. It felt like I was the only twelve-year-old in the country who kept up with the invasion of Iraq. I would watch that, then seek out the footage from the Gulf War, and in between I watched ‘Band of Brothers’ for the first time. I didn’t think for one second about the characters who would never grow old, just that it would be fun to travel the world and fight for the right cause.”

Malcolm felt his eyes watering more. “…I’m not officially a Captain yet, I can still talk to the Colonel…”

Meryl silenced him with a kiss before she took Connor out of Malcolm’s arms. She then held his cheek against hers. “I know that you’re a sweetheart, Rico…You don’t need to put up with me cautioning you. I’m sorry that I was such a nag.”

Malcolm cupped her cheeks. “You’re worried for me and I’m the one that’s doing it to you.”

“You’ve had a rough life baby, and you got sick of feeling helpless…what you do out there helps that…” She kissed him again. “I promised to support you, remember?” She tucked his hand into her own, and with Connor remaining in her arm, she brought Malcolm across the room.

“Are we going to the pool?” Malcolm asked with a sly smile.

Meryl stopped and bounced Connor while laughing, “I’m not teasing you in front of the boy.”

“He won’t remember it…” Malcolm pressed the idea. “We’re still young, you know?”

She laughed again. “Well, I didn’t bring that. Besides…” She tugged at Malcolm’s hand, leading him out the door, “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean that my dad isn’t still a pastor.” Meryl knocked at the room adjacent to theirs.

Before Malcolm could process the meaning, the door was opened by none other than the smiling face of her brother, David; he shared Meryl’s brunette hair, blue eyes, and birthday. “Mal!” he exclaimed before wrapping his arm around Malcolm’s neck. “Look at you, all official and shit! Got your medals and everything! Hey, Mom! Dad!”

Meryl smiled at Malcolm as she tugged his hand. Malcolm was in a daze as his mother-in-law rounded the corner wearing a black dress, unlike Meryl who rarely wore a dress. The grey hair was done up in a bun on the back of her head and she was busy putting lipstick away in her purse. “Hey darling!” she said more sweetly than Malcolm’s mother ever stated. “I’m sorry about John, he takes forever to get ready.”

“I can hear you!” a voice bellowed from the bathroom, “Hey Mal!”

“...Hey...” Malcolm responded.

Meryl stepped forward. “Beth couldn’t be here, College and all that. But the rest of us are!”

“When does the ceremony start?” David asked Malcolm.

“N-not for another few hours.”

“Let me tell you something, this is my first time on an Army Base. You’ve got so much shit out here it’s unreal! I thought all Army bases were boring Nazi boot camps, but this shit is legit! We can catch a movie before the ceremony, right?”

“Uh, with Connor?” Malcolm responded. “I don’t think that will be a good idea.”

“He’s a good boy, aren’t you pal?” David zoomed in on Connor’s face who stared back in disbelief.

Meryl interrupted. “We all know Mal’s not gonna want to watch anything G-rated, and this is his graduation, so I’m not gonna subject him to that.”

David persisted. “Well, I haven’t seen you in, like, half a year! We gotta slam shots or something!”

“I can always run downstairs to fetch us some drinks.” Malcolm finally smiled, “Now I do have to walk so I can’t get tipsy.”

The sound of a faucet turned off and the bathroom door opened. John stepped out wearing a black suit under a silver cross necklace and a head of matted grey hair. “There’s the man!” he said, “There’s my War Hero! Bring it in!” And he pulled Malcolm off Meryl for the embrace.

“...Hey...dad.”

“Why are you talking like you just got suspended?” John parted the hug and held Malcolm’s shoulders. “This is like a second coming of age for you! Where’s your chin? Pop that shit up!”

Malcolm couldn’t help but laugh through his confusion.

John continued to boast. “There it is! And look here!” He turned his attention to his grandchild in Meryl’s arms, who looked giddy to see him. “He’s getting so big! And he looks just like you.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. “We both know Meryl’s the reason he’s so good.”

John affirmed. “Even I, a preacher, will admit you can’t underestimate the power of good genes! Anyway, Captain, what’s the plan for after the ceremony?”

“I just want to go home honestly.” Malcolm said as he leaned against Meryl. “I’m back on duty soon so I’d like to enjoy things before I have to leave again.”

“Well, we should at least go out to eat.” Meryl’s mother stated. “John and I will pay for it, our treat.”

“Thanks Mom, but I just had lunch with the boys.” Malcolm said.

Meryl squeezed Malcolm’s bicep. “Oh, since when does that stop you from eating?”

“Hey look, a man knows when he needs to eat.” David said, “Wait here, I’ll fetch us some booze.”

“He said he can’t be tipsy, you dingus!” John exclaimed.

“I said some booze.”

“Guys, it’s cool, I can have one.” Malcolm assured.

“Well excellent then!” David said, “I’ll be back in a flash!” He poked Connor’s nose before he strolled into the hallway.

“Now, that boy is a lush.” John said to Connor as if he were old enough to understand him, “I know you won’t grow up to be like him. Oh hell no.”

“Dad, he’s two. He only says ‘Mama’ and ‘Dada’.” Meryl corrected.

“You can’t start teaching too early.” John stated, then looked back to Malcolm. “And with this man as his daddy, I can’t imagine him being a shit when he grows up.”

They played ‘catch up’ as Malcolm awaited the return of David, who returned with an armful of shot bottles. He shared in the revelry as the sun set on the horizon. The goosebumps encroached again, like Malcolm was braced. Any second now, the legal debt may finally be due. Malcolm held his son on his lap like he was a superior shield to Kevlar.

…I don’t deserve this…