The Lonely Hearts 06 The Grunt 2 (23 page)

“What we do out there in this world for our country is personal.  The medals are appreciated, but that’s not why we do it.  We do it because we love our country, and we love our family and our way of life.  And we’d do anything to protect it.  Joe died protecting that ideal and there is no medal that will take away the pain of his sacrifice.”

His head dropped. 

“For that, I am truly sorry.  But we shouldn’t remember him as just a patriot.  We shouldn’t remember him just as a fine Marine.   We should remember him as a man who was always trying to be better for his men, for his family, for his country and for God.  I think he will be welcomed in the Kingdom of Heaven.  I think that the angels will rejoice in his arrival, and in that, in time we too can rejoice at having known him at all.  But for now what gives me solace is the fact that he will be missed and remembered and immortalized by his actions and his legacy.”

There was more to say, but Brett could not continue.  So he nodded towards Joe’s widow and simply said, “We love you, Judy. We’ll always be there for you.  Always.” 

It had been a struggle to leave that podium because the weight of his convictions and the overwhelming sorrow made it hard to move.  But he had pushed past it, just to be strong long enough to get back to his seat.  There he had collapsed. 

With each memory shared and scripture read, it became more and more apparent that he’d never see his best friend again.  He’d never pop open a beer and kick his heels up with him under the North Carolina sun.  He’d never complain with him about humping until they were chaffed.  He’d never confide in him again and expect some sort of answer. 
And that was the hardest part.
  Joe had been his compass in many ways.  He had been his big brother, his non-judgmental family. 

Up until this point, Brett had avoided the reality that Joe was dead.  Up until the moment that he was forced to stand at the casket, he had been able to push what had happened out of his mind as though it never was.  But there were no more blinders to pull down and no more lies to tell himself.  Joe Mabry was dead.  And somehow, he had to push on.  Life was cruel that way.  In one hand, you were given so many blessing that you could not count them all.  And on the other hand, you were given so much pain that you couldn’t carry it. 

As he thought about that unfair equation with a certain amount of raw unadulterated cynicism, a strange voice whispered to him.  “Give the other hand to God.  Let Him carry your burdens.”  It wasn’t exactly something that Brett would have thought or even said and at that moment, he wondered if Joe wasn’t somewhere looking over him, assigned to be his unfortunate guardian angel. 

At the burial site, a long processional of people walked through the cemetery to the family plot, holding on to each other and still sobbing.  Light rain fell, cooling the hot day and showering the inconsolable.  But Brett was grateful for the rain.  The drops of water hid his unrelenting stream of tears, but they did not hide his bloodshot eyes or his inability to control his quivering lips.  It did nothing to hide his shame and guilt or the agonizing pain swelling inside of him.  But in the smallest of ways, it provided comfort. 

I want closure
, he thought to himself. 
I can’t live like this forever
.  His chest was tight with angst and the more that he tried not to sob outright, the more it hurt inside. But how could he let it go?  When? 
When could he let it go?
 

Standing behind his wife and kids who sat in the back of the group at the gravesite, he watched as the body bearers stood perfectly still, holding the flag taut above the casket while the Chaplain spoke. 

In synchronized precision the Honor Guard lifted their rifles, and fired off a three-volley-salute, each one jolting everyone there, ceremoniously indicating the dead had been properly cleared and cared for. 

As the sound of Taps was belted out by a talented bugle player, Brett lowered his head, rain falling from his beautiful lips. 

This is it
, he thought. 

Then silently they began to fold the crisp, beautiful American flag. Their slow, deliberate motion magnified the honor and appreciation reflected in this final act for Joe Mabry and his tremendous service and sacrifice.

With the folding of the flag, Brett tried to release it.
It was now or never.
  Perfectly still, he gritted his teeth and balled up his fist and commanded the sorrow to leave him. 
Get out!
He screamed in his mind.  Like a mist emanating from deep inside, his energy began to physically pulse through his body.  He closed his eyes in the rain, pushed out the tears and quietly screamed until there was nothing left.  It was such a physically exhausting and a completely unexplainable action that it left him trembling.  But somehow, he just knew he had to let it go.  He had to get it out.  He had to reach down and pull it from the depths of his soul so it wouldn’t ache anymore.

And so, he did. 

When he opened his eyes, he hadn’t realized that the crowd was dispersing or that his wife and children were standing and looking bemused at him or that his brother-in-law was being held by his father over near the trees where hardly anyone could see.  In fact, he wasn’t sure how long he had stood there at all.  It was as if the world had stopped moving. 

All he did know was that
it
was finally gone. 

***

The repast couldn’t be held at Judy’s home because the crowd was much too large, so the local community center had opened up its doors and the VFW was catering a world-class BBQ in Joe’s honor. 

The somber mood had quickly given way to happiness.  People were laughing hugging, talking, eating, and moving on with their lives a little at a time.  And the sun had actually broken from behind the clouds and was shining brighter than ever.

As Courtney fixed the kids a plate at the buffet in the middle of the gym floor, she spotted Judy over in the corner near the pushed back bleachers, wiping food from one of her kids’ face.  Putting down her plate, she made her way over to her.

“Hey,” Courtney said, trying to smile.

Judy looked up, her brown eyes still blood red, and gave a weak smile.  “Hey girl,” she said, voice hoarse, probably from crying.

Courtney quickly went to her and hugged her.  “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” Judy said hugging her back.  As Courtney finally released her from a hurt-locker of a hug, Judy patted her daughter before she ran off to play with the other kids.  Judy shrugged.  “Normally, I’d check her manners for not speaking to you.”  She chuckled.  “Just not in the mood today.  I’ll get her later.”

Courtney was glad to hear a little banter.  “Kids will be kids.  Let her slide this time.” 

“Did you enjoy the service?” Judy asked.

“It was really amazing,” Courtney said. 

“Well, I thought so too.  Momma put everything together with my meddling aunt.  Normally, they would make a mess of whatever they touched, but they did a really good job for Joe.”  Judy smacked her lips and moved past the moment.  “How’s Brett?”

Courtney frowned a little.  “He wants to see you so bad.”  She knew that she might be overstepping, but what were good wives for, if not to overstep? 

Judy ran a nervous hand over her limp, damp hair.  “I know.  I feel horrible about not seeing him.  I just…” Tears started to well up at the corner of her eyes again. “I’ve just been a damn mess.”  She confessed.  “I lost 15 pounds.  Couldn’t have done it on purpose if I tried.”  Smoothing her hands over her simple black dress, she tried to find a positive to dwell on. 

“I told him you were just going through it.  He thinks you…” Courtney bit her lip.  Should she say this?  Now?  “He thinks you might blame him.  Hell, I think he blames himself.” 

Judy’s face was suddenly frowning.  “Why would he think that?”

“Guilt,” Courtney said with a huff.  She looked behind her to make sure that he was not anywhere around.  If he had known what she was doing right now, he would have killed her.  “He has been weird to say the least, since he came back.  I can’t make heads or tails of what he’s even thinking most of the time, but I do know that he feels guilty, even if he doesn’t say it.”

Judy shook her head. She wasn’t surprised.  “Why do men always think everything is about them?”

Courtney laughed.  “Because they’re idiots.”

“Big ones,” Judy said, a little more upbeat.  She put her hand on her hip.  “Well, where is he?  I’m going to set him straight right now.”

Courtney knew that she was doing her a big favor, after all, she was at her husband’s repast playing Dr. Phil.  Grateful, Courtney wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight.  “Thank you for this.”

Judy held her.  “I love you guys.  You’re my family.  I…I just need some time.”  As Courtney pulled away finally, she huffed. “I promise, once I get myself together, I’ll be around more.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Courtney said, wiping tears.  “I miss you being around.”

“Miss you too, girl.”  Judy saw Brett on the other side of the room.  “Tell him to meet me in that little side room.  I’ll wait on him.  We can talk without the ambience of a professional basketball game.”

“Yeah, it is loud in here.” Courtney looked around at all the people who had come out.  “Joe was a loveable guy.”

“Yes, he was,” she said, picking up her purse from the chair beside her.  “Go tell him.  I’ll go on in.”

Courtney couldn’t make her feet move fast enough.  There was a crowd of people between her and Brett, and she damn near dove over the top of them like a running back driving the ball for a fourth quarter touchdown to win the game. 

“Excuse me,” she said, moving through the crowd. “Coming through!” she said louder as she finally shoved past a group of laughing Marines to get to Brett.

Brett raised a brow as he saw her approaching.  “What’s got your panties in a bunch?” he asked, shoving a chicken tender into his mouth.

“Judy wants to talk to you,” she said, a little out of breath.  Wiping her brow, she realized that she had broken a sweat.

Brett’s face dropped. “She wants to talk to me now?” he asked.

“Now,” she said, a little pushy. She nudged him and pointed toward the small breakout room across the gym.  “She’s in there waiting for you
alone
.”

Brett put the food down.  Taking a deep breath, he glared at his wife. “She mad?”

Courtney gave an incredulous stare. “No.” She pushed him again. “Go.”

“Alright, alright,” he said nervously.  “I’m going.”

***

He could smell Judy’s perfume as he entered the room.  She had always worn the same perfume, Poison by Dior, for as long as he could remember.  Joe used to say that if he smelled that scent, he knew trouble wasn’t far behind. 

Closing the door behind him, Brett fumbled with his crutches, wanting at that moment to throw them across the room. 
Couldn’t just one damn thing be simple with these things?  Must everything be a fucking hassle?
  He caught himself in the middle of going into a rage and turned toward her, forcing himself to smile. 

Judy was sitting at a long brown cafeteria-style table, slouched over a little rubbing her feet.  She looked up at him and smiled.

“My damn feet are killing me. Momma bought me these new shoes, and they have hurt since about 30 minutes after I put them on.  You know I don’t like anything but my crocs.” 

“Get over here,” Brett said, opening his arms.

Standing up, she walked over to him barefoot and gave him a hug.

Brett held on a lot longer than he normally did.  “It’s so good to see you,” he said sincerely.

She patted his back.  “It’s good to see you.” And she meant it.   Rubbing her small hand over his face, she looked at the bruises.  “You’re healing up nice.”  She wiped a tear. 
Damn it,
she had promised herself that she wasn’t going to do that when she saw him.  “How are you?”

“I can’t complain,” he said, knowing damn well that that was all he ever did.

“Let’s just get down to the brass tacks of it, Marine,” Judy said in her North Carolina southern twang.  “Courtney says that you’ve got an idea of why I didn’t want you to come around.  And from what she tells me, it’s utter bullshit.”

Brett couldn’t help but laugh.  What did he expect from Judy Mabry but brutal honesty?  “Eight months in the country made me almost forget what a potty mouth you have.”  He shook his head. 

“Well,” Judy said, ignoring his sudden attempt to divert.  “Is that what you really thought?  That I didn’t want to see you because I was mad at you or blaming you?”  Her hands were on her hips now as she prepared to give him a good
talking to
.

Brett’s head dropped.  “I should have been over there, Judy.” 

Judy curled up her lips.  “So what? Courtney could be in the same place I am?  And what would that have helped?”

“If I had been there, I could have done something.”

Her head snapped.  “Yeah, you could have died. 
You would have.
  My husband was a better Marine than you, Brett,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “If he got killed, then you didn’t have a chance.”