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Authors: Modou Fye

The Story Begins (21 page)

BOOK: The Story Begins
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20

Coincidence or a Message?

A PLEASANT SPRING
DAY: Sitting in his office, watching a couple of his mechanics working on a Deuce-and-a half military truck while they argued as to which was the better vehicle, the Deuce-and-a-half or the Five-ton truck, Jaden noticed Sergeant Beck, looking groggy as always, enter the bay with papers clasped in his right hand, pulling off his beret with the other. The sergeant’s presence with papers in hand could only have signified one thing; once again, it was the lieutenant’s turn to ascertain that all of the unit’s weapons, night-vision devices and all other equipment classified as sensitive were either present in the armory or otherwise accounted for.

Until he had asked Sergeant Beck and was provided an answer, Jaden often wondered what magnitude fall-out would ensue if ever a day came in which a weapon or some other piece of sensitive-categorized equipment went missing. The sergeant had explained that if ever such a day came, quite a few people would be reporting to the jail that was already conveniently located right there on Coleman Barracks. And from there arrangements would then be made for more permanent accommodations at Fort Leavenworth. Though Jaden had always taken his responsibilities seriously, the sergeant’s words of gloom and doom made the lieutenant add even greater emphasis in the conducting of this particular task. And it was because of the ever-present fear of jail time that, despite the fact that the armory was equipped with a very sophisticated alarm system, the poor sergeant had not gotten a good night’s sleep since being assigned the responsibility of making sure that all of the unit’s weaponry and such were well secured. So when the sergeant approached Jaden with sleep-deprivation written upon his face, the lieutenant couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor fellow.

Entering the armory Jaden looked all about him and was quite bewildered by all the different weapon systems. Though he had done what he was to do twice before, the sight of the different weapons, though always fascinating to see, did perturb him. While Jaden was observing the weapons, the sergeant had gone about setting the papers in order of sequence according to how the accountability was to be done.

The world is so far from perfect, thought Jaden as he looked at the weapons. He wondered why the hearts of men are so dark. He thought back to his childhood, back to the moment that the innocence with which he had looked upon the world had been taken away from him. He hated how his having borne witness to but a single act of cruelty had forever deprived him of his once-loving soul; before he had even had a chance to learn anything of the human species, he had already lost faith in mankind.

*

He
was nine years old when he and his father had just walked out of a burger restaurant on their way home after a couple of hours at the park, where his dad loved to just sit and enjoy the peace; not so much the quiet as children were all about and hard at play.

While his father had fidgeted in his pockets looking for something, Jaden had noticed a man sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall of the restaurant. He looked dirty and his clothes were tattered. There was another man who stood a few feet away from the ragged man and was very well dressed; he, too, had just left the same place. Jaden had also noticed an as-yet unwrapped burger in the man’s hand. The man had set down his briefcase and begun to remove the wrapping. He that was in tattered clothes watched him but said not a word. After peeling back the wrapping, the distinguished man must have decided that he no longer cared to have the sandwich. He looked around him. The ragged man, anticipating what the other was going to do, asked if he may have the sandwich. The well-dressed individual looked at he who besought, smirked, threw the burger in a trash can, called the ragged man a “bum” and walked away.

Jaden had then walked up to the homeless man and, kneeling beside the hapless man, offered him his own meal. Jaden’s father had remained distracted the while and only noticed that his son no longer had his meal in hands after Jaden had returned to him. Jaden had then recounted what had occurred and asked his dad why the nicely-dressed man was mean and what bum meant. After his father’s explanation of bum in the context applied, he said to his son that the world was not always a nice place, and that not everybody was a good person. Jaden had then remarked that had the ragged man not needed help, he wasn’t likely to be out on the street but rather with his family. His father had agreed.

Though only a child, Jaden had reasoned that the distinguished man had also been a child once and if that was the manner in which children today were to be when grown tomorrow, he did not care to have friends. His father tried to reason with the child, reminding him that not all people are bad and that it was okay to have friends. It was too late; the child’s soul had been damaged. From that day forth, Jaden would never again see the world through the naïve eyes of a child. And even though he did have friends as he grew, he always remembered that the hearts of men can be fickle; to that end he never let anyone ever get close.

Unbeknownst to Jaden was that concurrent with the deed that had stolen his innocence, a phenomenon, great and unseen, had unfolded when the child had knelt down beside the homeless man; an occurrence he would come to know only after his here and now was no more.

After Jaden had offered his food to the destitute man, there had been a change in the little boy; his eyes flashed brightly and he had then leaned in closer to the man. In a deep and resonant voice, he said, “I shall fail you not. By my own hand, I promise, shall I avenge thee.” Though it was a child that had come down upon bended knee, the words spoken belonged a being far greater. All Jaden knew and would remember was that he had shown kindness to a helpless man; he would remain oblivious to the words uttered by his own tongue, and the fate of the distinguished gentleman who had suddenly vanished after having walked away a mere few steps, until much later.

*

A
clicking sound the sergeant made with his pen awoke Jaden from his reverie. Armies exist, people kill each other, and chaos reigns unchecked across the globe; unfortunately this is just how the world has evolved, he reminded himself. From his perspective the world had become nothing more than a global haven for depraved souls.

Despite the fact that Jaden knew the world for what it was, each and every time he stepped into the armory, it was hard for him to believe that such things existed. He could never fathom why, or how, people let life get so outrageously out of control. There were M16s, M4s, Mark 19s, M9s, .45 and .50 cal weapons, M249s; the list was exhaustive. “Why?” he asked softly.

“Excuse me, sir?” asked the Sergeant.

“Nothing. Just thinking out loud,” he told him. How dark can the hearts of men become? he wondered. How many ways are we going to create to achieve the same end? How many different methods do we want to use to kill each other?

“Ready, sir?” asked the Sergeant, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yep! What are we starting with?”

“We’ll start with the night-vision devices, sir.”

“Let’s get to it then.”

“Roger, sir. Just one thing before we start – and I’ll show you the paperwork as we get to those particular pieces of equipment – whatever isn’t here has been temporarily transferred to other activities for calibration or servicing to bring them into tolerance with their respective service dates. The work required for those particular pieces are above our level.”

“Roger that. Most of the weapons are now in tolerance though, right? I should know that but I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” the Lieutenant said, his mind momentarily going back to Melanie.

“Yes, sir. We’re making progress. Our stats are nowhere near where they were before you got here. We’re still behind but not for much longer. Give it another four or five weeks and everything in the armory will be up to speed, sir.”

“Okay. Sounds good. Let’s get it done.”

 

ABOUT
45 minutes later, they finished up and Jaden signed the papers, vouching that all was in order.

“Mind if I hang here for a couple more minutes to check out the weapons while you finish up?” he asked the sergeant.

“Sure thing, sir.”

Jaden looked at the weapons. He had fired every single weapon system in the unit’s arsenal at some time or another, and though he always wondered why guns had to exist it seemed to dawn upon him only now what all this really meant. It was all naught save senseless death simply waiting to happen.

“Why?” he asked again.

This time the sergeant didn’t hear him.

“Why did You let it come to this?” he asked, acknowledging and talking to God for the first time in a very long while. “How many ways shall You let us create to destroy ourselves before you put an end to it?” he whispered. My God! How can man be so depraved?

The sergeant spoke. “Well, that’s that until next month,” he said while signing the last signature needed to close-out the report. “Are you about ready, sir?”

“Yeah, thanks. One thing before we leave though.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“Have you ever taken a good hard look at all these weapons and wondered why?” Jaden asked disconcertedly.

“Oh that! Yes, sir,” the Sergeant replied, looking reflective. “The first few weeks after I was appointed the duty, I used to ask myself that same question repeatedly. But you know what, as sad as it is, it becomes normal after a while and you no longer pay any mind to such things. I guess that’s just life in general though. When you’ve been exposed to something long enough, you can easily become desensitized to it without even realizing what’s happening to you,” he said, shaking his head in sad disapproval.

“You’re right. That
is
life. We’ve become desensitized to the most loathsome of things. Once you get used to it, it becomes commonplace… anyway, when is the next time I’ll be doing this?”

“Three months from now, after it rotates through Sergeant McHenry and Lieutenant Krappa.”

They stepped out of the armory and the sergeant secured the armory by typing in several codes into the computerized lock.

“Good luck with that last guy!” Jaden wished him.

“Thanks, sir. God knows I’m going to need it with that asshole.”

“As anal retentive as that dude is, it probably was a bunch of shit-holes that somehow coalesced into one single person,” Jaden joked.

They laughed as they headed out the building.

“You have no idea just how much he’s despised around here, sir,” the Sergeant said as the entrance door to the building closed behind them. “I shit you not when I say that some of the guys in his platoon wish they could just beat the shit out of him. Don’t tell anyone that I told you this but sometimes when we get drunk at the barracks over the weekend, that’s our favorite topic of discussion. It’s almost like a group aspiration. It’s pretty sad when somebody’s ambition is no greater than simply wishing to beat the fuck out of someone else, sir. Damn, that’s sad!”

The Lieutenant laughed. “As long as you don’t actually execute it, I don’t suppose that it can hurt to dream about it. I’m sure it’s therapeutic,” he said.

“You have no idea, sir. You have no fracking idea!”

“I try not to deal with him but, honestly, just looking at him makes me want to kick his ass sometimes,” the Lieutenant shared.

“Damn! He’s gotten to you too, sir?”

“I’m only human.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Yeah, aren’t we all? All right, I’ve got to get back to my office.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Don’t mention it, Sergeant.”

When Jaden walked back into the bay, unnoticed by the mechanics, he couldn’t believe that the mechanics were still going back and forth over which was the better vehicle. Without anything pressing demanding his attention, and curious as to for just how much longer the utterly meaningless debate would persist, he decided to stand at the entrance of his office and listen in on what sounded and appeared to be a most profound philosophical discourse, as far as the soldiers were concerned.

After a couple of minutes of what Jaden perceived as a decidedly mindless discussion, Private Phillips, who was working on one side of the truck and closer to Jaden, asked his buddy, who was on the opposite side, for a favor: “Hey, would you roll over my bottle of water? It’s right behind you.”

“You got it!” replied Turner, who then rolled the bottle beneath the undercarriage, unaware that the cap wasn’t wound tight. Most of the water spilled as the bottle rolled.

“Sorry dude, I didn’t know that the cap was loose,” Turner apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” Phillips told him.

“Hey, have you asked the Lieutenant yet if it’s okay for us to go and help out the aviation mechanics with that chopper that almost crashed into the TV tower?” Turner asked.

“No, I haven’t yet. Is he in his office?”

“How am I supposed to know? Just look behind you, you should be able to see if he is or isn’t,” Turner said.

“Oh yeah! You’re right!”

“Soldiers these days… no brains, I tell you!” Turner joked.

“I heard about that chopper that almost crashed,” the Lieutenant chimed in, stepping away from the doorway and into the bay heading towards the truck. “That would have been tragic,” he continued as he leaned against one of the rear wheels of the vehicle his troops were working on.

“Roger that, sir,” agreed Private Phillips.

“Where exactly is the TV tower?” the Lieutenant asked.

“It’s by a place called Luisen Park. It’s in the direction going towards downtown. It isn’t actually a TV tower but a rotating restaurant. Why it’s referred to as TV tower I really couldn’t say,” explained Turner.

“Any idea what went wrong? Why the pilot didn’t see it sooner?” Jaden asked.

“I couldn’t tell you for sure, sir, but I’ve heard it had something to do with the weather. Heavy rains and low visibility due to fog, I think,” Phillips explained.

“I guess what’s important is that a tragedy was averted,” said Jaden.

“Yes, sir, I agree,” said Phillips before taking a sip of the little bit of water that hadn’t spilled out.

BOOK: The Story Begins
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