New Title 1 (2 page)

“
You’d better hurry,” he said.

Now my hands were shaking. I unlocked the last dead bolt and opened the door as quickly as possible.

Seeing this man in full he looked even less like a government employee. He wore a camouflage sweat suit stretched to its limits over his girth.

“
Is that a sweat suit?” I couldn’t help myself.

“
Yes. It makes it easier to move around.”

His sunglasses moved over the length of my body and stopped when aimed at my feet.

“
Dear God,” he said.

Dammit. I had forgotten to put my shoes back on.

“
Jesus. I think I’m going to be sick.”

He took a couple of steps to his right until he reached the railing of my porch. He braced himself and vomited over the side. I thought about covering my toenails but then remembered I didn’t have to. This was my house. At least for a few more minutes anyway.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood in front of me again. He pushed me out of the way and stood in the middle of my living room, surveying the surroundings.

“
Come in, I guess.”

“
I already have.”

“
I know. I was just… being sarcastic.”

“
You know who else was sarcastic? The French.” Then he smirked and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants. “Guess you heard what happened to them.”

“
Can you tell me why you’re here?”

“
Saul Dressing, you’ve been drafted.”

Five

“
Drafted?”

“
That’s what I said.”

“
That’s impossible.”

“
I assure you it’s not.”

“
I’m way too old.”

“
Mr. Dressing, have you watched the news lately? Do you realize the current state of this country’s affairs?”

“
I don’t watch the news. It’s too depressing. I do, however, realize the current state of this country’s affairs is dire. To say the least.”

“
And it’s because of this direness that you are needed. You are certainly not the type of soldier this country would otherwise seek out.”

“
I protest.”

“
Then you will be taken to a detainment facility.”

“
I don’t think that’s legal.”

“
In moments of crisis, in times of war, many things become legal that were once not legal.”

“
I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” I grabbed the tufts of hair on either side of my head and sat down on the couch.

“
They’ll be here in the morning to take you to the front.”

“
The front?!” I found myself suddenly enraged. This man had come into my house and completely rearranged my existence. “Which front? The whole world’s a front.”

“
I believe you will be taken to the country of Grisnos. They’ll brief you on the trip.”

I slumped down, my head nearly in between my knees. “I’ve never even heard of a country called Grisnos.”

“
I think it’s new. Or else it’s really old and has shrunk to such a size that the rest of the world has forgotten about it. Regardless, you’re going there.”

“
I need a drink.”

I went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, wrapping my hand around a beer bottle. I thought about breaking the bottle, rushing into the living room and trying to assassinate that man. Maybe I needed something stronger than beer. I released the beer bottle, closed the refrigerator, and took a bottle of vodka from the freezer. I didn’t bother with a glass. I uncapped the bottle and walked with slumped shoulders into the living room.

“
Do you have any coffee?”

“
Not made.”

“
Do you mind?”

“
I’m not going to make you coffee. How long are you going to be here?”

He had already made his way into the kitchen. “I’ll be here until they come to retrieve you in the morning.”

“
This isn’t a hotel.”

“
You’ve established yourself as a flight risk.”

I plopped down heavily on the couch and took a slug from the bottle. It unleashed a cool burn down my throat, exploding into my already upset stomach. I coughed and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“
You seem to know a lot about me but I don’t even know your name. Doesn’t professional courtesy suggest you introduce yourself to me before sending me off to some foreign country to die?”

“
I’m Baxter. Baxter Baxter.”

Idiotic. “Like the character in
Lolita
.”

He stopped banging around in the kitchen. “Huh?”

“
Never mind.”

“
Where are your filters?”

“
Cabinet above the sink.”

I heard the grinder whir away. When it stopped, I turned on the stereo.
Solo Monk
. Sublime. I took another slug of vodka. It was already working its way into my head, a big ball of heat radiating throughout my body. I didn’t feel quite as murderous as I did only moments before. Maybe the music helped.

A few minutes later, Baxter came in carrying a mug I had filched from the library. He pointed at the television. Then he pointed at the stereo. “How do you turn this off?”

“
I’m listening to it.”

“
From now on you listen to your superiors. That’s the only thing you listen to. You better get that through your big bald head.”

More vodka.

He was randomly punching buttons.

“
You’re going to mess up the equalizer. Just press the ‘power’ button.”

He pressed the power button and the music stopped. Then he pressed the power button on the television and cranked the volume way up. It was on one of the porno channels. The living room became alive with grunts, moans, slapping skin, and bad synthesizer music.

“
Whoa!” Baxter said. “They should take that shit off TV.” He grabbed the remote control and scrolled through the channels until he reached the War Network. He sat down in the comfortable chair with his cup of coffee, extending the leg rest and making himself comfortable. “We just began a major offensive against Bioko earlier today.”

“
Where’s Bioko?”

“
It used to be called Fernando Poo.” He giggled and took a sip of coffee. “This is good. Anyway, Bioko is an island off the west coast of Africa. We should be able to claim it within a couple of days.”

“
Bully for us.”

He chuffed at me and said, “People like you really make me mad. I don’t understand you. We’re out there every day defending this country’s freedom, our way of life, and people like you sit at home and do nothing but criticize.”

“
I just don’t think war is always the answer. I grew up during mostly peace times.”

“
There’s never been such a thing. Since this country was formed we’ve always been at war.”

“
I didn’t think I’d ever have to worry about a draft, anyway. All my life, the military was a profession, just like any other. It might be dangerous, but they’re also getting paid to do it, and they know that when they sign up. Most soldiers have my respect but I couldn’t possibly be one of them.”

“
What if no one signed up? What if everyone thought like you? What then? We could all be speaking Chinese.”

“
If the soldiers in the military are defending my freedom then why does it always seem like we’re on the offensive?”

“
Sometimes it’s not good enough to defend freedom at home. Sometimes you have to promote freedom throughout the world.”

“
Is that what they’re doing in Fernando Poo?”

“
Bioko.”

“
Sorry. Bioko.”

“
Three American tourists were killed in a hotel there.”

“
And we declared war on them?”

“
Right now it’s only a conflict. Tomorrow, the President will probably officially declare war. The people who killed the tourists were citizens of Bioko, or lived there, or something.”

I started to feel pretty drunk. I had to close one of my eyes. I looked at the television through the open eye. A giant tank ran over a small hut with a thatched roof.

“
If you want to know the truth of it,” I said. “I just don’t understand war. It seems too impersonal to me. And I don’t like violence.”

“
So you admit, sometimes, war is necessary.”

“
I would never admit that. I think there are always other ways.”

“
Well, then, when you get to Grisnos, you can find some other way to fend off those savages.”

“
I will not kill another human being,” I slurred.

“
Then you will most probably die.”

That was the last thing I heard before I spiraled into drunken oblivion.

Six

Pain jerked me from sleep. My head swam. I could still only use the one eye. The living room seemed too bright. The television too loud. The sound of bombs and people screaming and crying. I looked down at the source of the pain.

Baxter was sawing at my talons.

What the hell was he using? It looked like a steak knife.

I tried to slash at his face with my talons but they were all gone. He was working on the last one. Besides, I was still too drunk to move with any real force. I kicked him lightly in the side of the head.

I tried to ask him what he was doing but it was an incoherent slur.

“
We can’t have you going overseas to represent our country with toenails like those.” Then, after yanking the last talon down to the quick, he said, “Man, they don’t pay me enough to do this kind of shit.”

I curled my toes in between the cushions of the couch, feeling naked and ashamed. Then I closed my eyes and forced myself back to sleep.

I didn’t want to be aware of this man sitting only feet from me.

I didn’t want to be aware of what was happening on the television.

I didn’t want to be aware of what was happening anywhere except the house I lived in.

But, for right now, that was where all the really bad shit was happening. It was like I had avoided it for too long and now it was closing in around me in one cacophonous web.

Seven

“
IT’S TIME TO GET UP! IT’S TIME TO GET UP! IT’S TIME TO GET UP! IT’S TIME TO GET UP!”

He said it like a million times before I could even respond.

“
I’m awake. I’m awake.” I tried to bat away the sound of his voice with a hand.

“
Then why aren’t you getting up? Get up! Come on. Your ride’ll be here in five minutes.”

“
Five minutes?”

I sat up on the couch and wiped the sleep from my eyes. Fought the urge to throw up.

“
I was hoping to take a shower. Maybe make some coffee.”

“
No time! You’re the one who had to sleep so late.”

“
Late? What time is it?”

“
Oh-six-hundred.”

“
Six o’clock? That’s earlier than I’ve ever been up.”

“
Better get used to it. You’re on military time now. Up at the break of dawn. Maybe even before, depending on your mission.”

I stood up. The room spun around me. I sat back down and put my head between my knees. I tried standing up again. I balanced myself until the room quit spinning. I went into the bathroom and pissed, stopped pissing to vomit, flushed the vomit down the toilet, and resumed pissing. At the kitchen sink I ran a big glass of water and drank it down. Then I went into the back bedroom and pulled some fresh socks from my drawer. I put the socks on and noticed that my talons had chewed holes in them on a previous wear. I pawed through the drawer. They were all like that.

When I got back into the living room, the front door was open wide. Outside, on the street, was a helicopter. It looked like it was missing a blade from the propeller. That didn’t seem safe. Baxter was talking to someone, this man wearing something that more closely resembled an army uniform—olive green and not a sweatsuit. I panicked. I slammed the door shut and locked it.

A few seconds later, Baxter began pounding on the door.

“
You can’t get out of this. Open this door in five seconds or you’re in violation of all sorts of laws. Now! Open it!”

I opened the door and took off running through the house. I escaped out the back door. He just told me to open the door, I thought. He didn’t say anything about sticking around.

I began running through the backyard, still wearing only my socks. I turned down the alley. My neighbor was in his backyard watering his flowers. He lifted his hand in a wave. I didn’t have time to wave back.

The pilot came charging out of the cross alley. He had a machine gun across his chest. He bolted toward me. I thought about running in the opposite direction but thought he would probably shoot at me if I did. I was out of breath anyway. I had a stitch in my side. My feet hurt. Some soldier I’d make.

The pilot approached me and wrapped a hand around my upper arm, a bit harder than was necessary.