Authors: Clara Moore
III.
The ‘bar car’ resembled a dark dive bar with neon lights and a jukebox in the corner. I thought back to the mobster bar in Russia. Besides the gun fight that happened when one of the recruits, Cassius Morello, ran off with the female bartender, I liked that bar quite a lot. They paid me to play my music, and though they were cold-blooded killers, they were always kind to me. They trusted me enough to not think I had been the commander of the mission against them.
I’d attribute that to my charm, rather than because of anything else. But it could just be because I could speak Russian really well.
“There are so many things about the train I’m discovering,” Janie chirped, looking around the car with excited eyes. “This is my first time taking the train, actually.”
“Why is that?” I asked, sipping my drink cautiously. Stronger than I thought it would be.
“I usually flew places. But I lost my ID the last time I flew, so I decided to just take a train. I had some time before the interview, so it seemed more convenient.”
“I see. I like to take the train. When I first became a Navy SEAL, our plane crashed. So, I’m still a little jumpy about it.”
“I always thought you were so brave though. It’s strange to imagine you being afraid of something.”
“I don’t scare easily, that’s for sure. But it was a pretty terrible experience. We crashed over the water, and half of the other people on the plane died.”
“That’s terrible! How did you stay in the military after that?”
“Well, I had to. And, I don’t know, at that time I was still pretty young, and I felt like I belonged there more than I belonged anywhere else.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you even join the military? You’re like this sensitive musician, but you were in one of the most elite groups.”
I gulped more of the drink. In the neon light, her skin looked luminescent, and her eyes resembled dark orbs just staring into me. I felt locked in place by her with no chance of escape; yet, in that, I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to stay with her as long as I could. I’d let her go once, and I’ve regretted that since the word “goodbye” left my mouth. I knew I’d miss her, but I didn’t realize how much.
“Well, my dad always had medical problems, you know?” I answered, looking into her eyes. She nodded, listening intently to the story as she sucked on the straw in her drink. I had to close my eyes to not get turned on imagining what else she could use her mouth on. “And he needed a kidney transplant. I was eighteen, the oldest kid, and so I offered to do it.”
“So, you’re missing a kidney?”
“No. When they did the tests to see if I would be a good match, the doctor and my mom pulled me aside to tell me I wasn’t a match. What’s more, my mom said my dad wasn’t my biological father.”
“What?!”
“Yeah. She said at the time I was conceived, my dad was doing a lot of drugs, and their relationship wasn’t going well. So, she said she met a Navy sailor who was kind to her, and he was my biological dad. But she didn’t want me to tell the man who’d raised me the truth, because he didn’t know.”
“That’s like soap opera stuff, DaVinci.”
“It gets better. Or worse, I guess. I joined the Navy to try to find this guy – I’d looked him up, and he was still in the service. I pretty much… worked up the ranks so that I could meet him and find out if… if he was really my biological father.”
“Did your mom know?”
“Not at first. I told her I was going to college far away. Dad was proud of me.”
“Did you find the guy then?”
“I did. I met him when I was about to become a Navy SEAL. And I told him everything that my mom had said. He remembered her, but he said it wasn’t possible that I was his son. He… was impotent. When I was in the hospital after the plane crash, we did a paternity test and… that proved it.”
“He wasn’t your dad?”
“No. Then I had to… be honest with my mom and dad about what I was doing. Dad was still proud, but Mom was mad that I went behind her back. I didn’t say anything to Dad about, you know, the real reason I joined. But Mom said she didn’t know who my real dad could be, so I just let it go. The man who raised me is my dad, and he will always be.”
“That’s a really sad story,” she said after a long pause. “I didn’t… I would’ve never imagined.”
“It doesn’t really matter now. My military career changed a lot after that. It changed me emotionally so that… I could handle the violence and the horror of it. I became numb to it because everything I knew before was turned over. And I didn’t care anymore if I lived or died. I just… went through the motions and worked my way up.”
“You didn’t seem so emotionless to me. I thought you were quite sweet, actually.”
“Well, it was different with you. You were… you
are
the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and we connected instantly. When I met you, I really needed someone to help me get out of that funk. I’d been a commander for a few years, and it was really hard on me. I kind of… lost perspective, a little bit.”
“And I helped you gain perspective?”
“You helped me feel human again. I was eighteen when I joined the Navy, and I’d never met someone like you before.”
“I wasn’t your first, was I?”
I laughed, “No, no. Not like that. I had girlfriends in high school, and I did date a girl while I was in the Navy. But when I went on to the SEALs, we broke up. Then I kind of just met girls when I could.”
“You’re one of those sailors that has a kid at every port, aren’t you? You have multiple families that you juggle around.”
“You’re right. That’s me exactly. There are a bunch of little mini me’s running around Europe.”
“I saw a few in Sweden. The moms were super pissed at you.”
“I can certainly understand that.”
She laughed, stirring her drink and staring down into it. I watched the grace of her hand as she stirred, remembering how she used to dance in her apartment with the sun shining against her purple hair and her singing voice spinning around the room. She’d pull me in with that bright smile and teach me how to meet the rhythm of her feet as she moved. Her hair smelled like roses as though she’d slept in a garden of flowers.
“You know, I bought that album that you used to listen to all the time in the apartment,” I told her softly. “This is cheesy as hell to admit, but I used to listen to it and imagine that I’d gone with you instead of staying behind.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. I thought about it all the time. It almost consumed me how much I wished I’d gone.”
“I used to listen to it too and imagine when you would come because I really believed you would. But then you didn’t.”
“I intended to. I told my bosses that after the mission was done, I would quit. I’d seen too much. And it seemed like things were going good, but then we just lost touch of each other.”
She looked up at me, her focus clear. “Yeah, what ever happened with that?”
“I’m not sure. The hotel we were staying at was… blown up, and…”
“Your hotel was
blown up
?”
“Yeah, I was in the Ukraine with one of my recruits, Nina, at the last part of her mission. The rest of the recruits from her squadron had served their time and went on to other things, but she wanted to stay to finish. But it didn’t work very well for us.”
“Jesus. That’s crazy.”
“We moved somewhere else right away, but the damage was done. The mission was pretty much compromised. And Nina got pretty hurt in the blast. I sent you a letter, but I think you had moved too.”
“Yeah, I traveled to Scotland after that. I told you I’d be moving.”
“The fates tore us apart, I guess.”
“I guess so. I thought you just decided to stop writing.”
“No, I didn’t. I wrote you a few times, actually.”
She sucked on her straw contemplatively. I thought of her in Scotland, waiting for my letter, and it never coming. I figured I missed her – I knew she’d be moving and had been awaiting her new address when the bomb happened. And then Nina lost a leg, so my perceived lost love seemed trivial in comparison.
“Were you hurt in the explosion?” she asked suddenly. “You said the girl you were with was, but you didn’t say if you were.”
“I got some burns and some shrapnel hit my shoulder, but I was pretty okay,” I replied. “Nothing too bad there. The person who owned the hotel blew it up because he knew we were there and after him.”
“What happened to her?”
“She lost a leg and was in the hospital for a long time. It was a little too bad because it was nearly right after the other recruits left.”
“That’s really terrible.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“I feel really petty for being so upset with you then.”
“It’s all right. War is hell.”
“Were you discharged after that for being a bad commander?”
“No. I was discharged because my recruit got her leg blown off right in front of me, and I’d been maimed or shot a few times. I was a fine commander.”
“So, it was a pity discharge?”
“I guess you could say that. The guy who wasn’t my dad did pull some strings for me because he felt bad I had no father.”
“You played that up, huh?”
“I did. It worked well enough.”
She laughed, finishing her drink. I asked her if she wanted another, and she shrugged demurely. I smiled and stood to get her another. As I waited at the bar, I snuck a look at her. She leaned over and took the rest of my drink and slurped it down. I chuckled to myself, thinking about how I thought I’d never see her again. Though the explosion scared me when it happened, I also knew it meant I wouldn’t know where she was. I knew she was traveling to another country at that time and would write me, but when that place went up in flames, I knew I’d never get the letter.
It was strange fearing for my life and also feeling saddened about what my life would mean if I did survive. The idea of leaving the SEALs to be with Janie was the only thing keeping me going after leading such a disastrous squadron. After that, I really had nothing to cling to. But, I guess, I found solace in my music and was able to write my first album. Maybe it was for the best – even if I’d sacrifice all of the success from that album and the ones after just to have spent that time with her.
I ordered our drinks then moved to the jukebox to pick something out. I could feel her eyes on me, watching my neon illuminated figure in the dim light. Maybe she noticed how one shoulder sagged slightly compared to the other, and how I had to balance my weight more on my left leg instead of my right because of the shrapnel that blew a hole in my thigh. It heeled, but still hurts sometimes. I suppose I should be happy I still have the leg.
Inside the jukebox shined very little light to see what songs it could play. I thought I read ‘Johnny Cash’ so I picked that. A song I didn’t recognize from the fifties came out instead of what I expected. I guess that shows me for thinking I can read. I walked back to the bar to pick up our drinks and return them to the beautiful lady in waiting.
“Swell choice of music,” she grinned.
“Thanks. It took me a while to pick this wonderful number out,” I replied, drinking my equally strong beverage.
“What is this called?”
I watched her suck on her straw again, her sultry eyes looking at me expectantly.
“Does it matter? Good music doesn’t have to have a name,” I replied.
She chuckled, “You don’t even know, do you?”
“Nope, I don’t. I couldn’t read it.”
“Should’ve figured. The pretty ones are never smart.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I guess I should ask so I’m not being such sleazy jerk if you’re single right now.”
“I am single, but you’re still a sleazy jerk.” I made fake laughing noises, and she chuckled. “Are you?”
“I’m married, have a few kids, but I’m single for tonight.” She mimicked my fake laughing noises. “I am single as well.”
“I thought I read in what of the gossip rags that you were dating some Hollywood actress. Not so?”
“I went on one arranged date with her, and our personalities just didn’t mesh. It didn’t work out.”
“An arranged date, huh?”
“My manager thinks I’ll sell more albums if I date an ingénue.”
“Oh, I see. I guess that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t really, but you can pretend it does. You know how managers can be.”
“Not really. I think people like my sad-sack, forever longing writer thing.”
“I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“You wouldn’t think so.”
“Do you want to dance?”
She grinned, “To this?” I nodded. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We clinked our drinks and downed them quickly. She grabbed my hand and dragged me onto the floor. Touching her hand made muscle memory react. I almost simply leaned in to kiss her, but I thought that might not be right to do when we just met each other again after… what? Five years?
Instead, my hands swirled around her waist, and her arms responding by wrapping themselves around my neck. Even though the song was more upbeat, we danced as though it were a romantic slow song. Her head rested on my shoulder, and we moved gently together. I buried my face in her hair that still smelled of roses.