“That bad?”
Worse. They should take all of ‘em and send them to Guantanamo as enemy combatants.”
“What about Obama.”
In a fit of anger Ruben wave his arms, “And him too.” Ruben turned to Beau and smiled sadistically, “And I want to waterboard Obama first.”
Beau snickered, “You swore an oath to protect them.”
“No, I swore an oath to protect America from all foreign and — Domestic Invaders.” Ruben calmed down, “We are in the throes of a total financial collapse. Obama is living proof God no longer favors America. He has destroyed America. We are at the end of times and he is the Anti-Christ.”
“I hope that’s all,” mumbled Beau as his thoughts returned to Sharafan and the possibility of an invasion. The idea of only a financial collapse seemed almost pleasing, when compared to an invasion.
“What?” Ruben asked.
“Never mind, it was nothing.”
Ruben sighed. “Hey, enough of that. Where to?”
“First thing I want is a hamburger, with real meat, real cheese, jalapenos, lettuce, and tomatoes: the works. I always said if I made it back, a hamburger would be the first thing I got. Until we find one, I wanta listen to some good ol’ Rock ‘n Roll.”
“You got it,” Ruben said, grabbing the duffel bag and throwing it in the back of the Jeep.
The two men climbed in, Ruben cranked the radio, and the pair began their hamburger odyssey. In short order they rustled up two of the biggest double meat, double cheese jalapeno burgers they could find at a nearby Whataburger. With their “Hamburger Mission” accomplished and the radio blaring, they headed to the Naval Air Station.
The fabric top of the Jeep flapped noisily in the wind. “It’s sure good to have you back, just like old times. Hey, you still have those nightmares?” Ruben asked.
“Not as often. But it’s the same one over and over. I’m with Becky and Shawn on Padre Island. There’s no one else around. I’m calling for them to return so we can leave. They run toward me waving their arms and laughing. It… it’s all in slow motion. Suddenly, terrorists hidden in the sand jump up and start shooting them with machine guns. I can’t stop it. I’m helpless. Then I wake up,” Beau said. Memory of the dream brought beads of cold sweat to his forehead.
For a moment they drove in silence. “I want you to know Sunday and I take flowers to the graves real regular,” Ruben said slightly worried about his friend’s reaction.
“I’m grateful Ruben; that means a lot to me. You know, I joined the Israeli Air Force just to avenge their deaths. I’ve been involved in most of their raids; God only knows how many people I’ve killed. Women, children — who knows. Who’s right, Ruben? I sought my own hell and killed innocent people. Becky would be ashamed of me.”
“Hell, Becky would never be ashamed of you,” snapped Ruben.
Beau hesitated then continued. “Sometimes her death is like a dream. In the mornings just before I wake, I can feel her hair against my face, the warmth of her body against mine. I can still smell her sweetness. Then I see her face but when I reach out to touch her, I wake up. Always, I try to go back to sleep in the hopes I can bring her back — if just for a moment.” Again silence. “She died because I left her. I should have died, not Becky.”
“Beau, it’s not your fault. I know it’s tough but you couldn’t have done anything.” They drove for a while in silence; then Ruben spoke again. “You know, one of those smut magazines, the Enquirer or Star, said some aliens took you into outer space. What was it like up there?”
Slowly, the old familiar smile creased Beau’s face. “The aliens? Yeah, I heard about it too. Actually they took me to Tahiti, and we spent a week on the beach.” Both men started laughing.
“Hey, what are the Israeli women like?” But before Beau could answer, Ruben said, “Shit, Beau, ya haven’t gone faggot on me, have ya?”
Beau laughed and slapped his old friend on the shoulder. “Ya could always bring me around.” He sighed and continued. “They’re not bad. Some of them are really beautiful. That is, if you can get used to hairy legs and underarms, and no deodorant.”
“Oh, man! You gotta be shitin’ me.”
“Nope. Strange, when I think back to the women over the last few years, I never woke up with one I wanted to stay with. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Ruben lied, not having the faintest idea what Beau was talking about.
“I don’t think you do. I’m not trying to say going to bed with a woman is the only way I can tell if I love her or not.”
Ruben snickered. “Hell, ya gotta test drive a car before ya buy it.”
“That’s not the same thing. A woman’s not a car or a piece of property. I know I love a woman when I wake up beside her and I want to pull her close to me and just hold her near. I always felt that way with Becky. No matter how she looked in the morning, she was always beautiful to me. Before I got out of bed, I’d kiss her on the neck and hold her close for a few minutes,” Beau said with a sigh.
“Well, I’ll agree with ya there,” said Ruben sincerely. “Feel the same way about Sunday.”
“It’s never happened with anyone else. There were some I liked, but that was all,” Beau mumbled.
“I hope ya didn’t fall in love, ‘cause Sunday wants ya to meet a doctor friend of hers.”
“Is she tall? Does she have long blond hair?”
“Come on, they can’t all be like Becky,” Ruben said, instantly regretting he couldn’t retract his words.
“I know.” Beau sighed. “I’m sure if Sunday likes this doctor, then she’ll be just fine. Did she tell her who I am? If she knows my background, she may not be too eager to meet me.”
“Aw, I wouldn’t worry about Krysti, she’s a fine woman,” said Ruben.
With a smile of interest Beau asked, “Is she tall?”
Ruben snickered. “I’m not telling, but I will tell you she is the physician for our team, and she has a son, Justin.” As an afterthought, he added, “Oh yeah, Sunday told me Krysti’s ex-husband abused her. She hates to be grabbed.”
“Ya afraid I might beat her?” Beau asked with a laugh.
“Aw hell no, not you. You’re about as gentle with women as anyone I’ve ever seen. Sometimes I think you’re a big pushover.”
“Well, thanks for the pointer. Oh, I almost forgot,” Beau said as he searched for the small item in his shirt pocket. “Here.”
Then he tossed the Three Musketeers bar toward Ruben who snatched it in midair. “Damn, you know I’m trying to stop eating these,” he said as he tore at the wrapper with incredible skill, exposing the chocolate, which he bit into viciously. This was a ritual Beau had begun when they first started flying, and which continued through Operation Iraqi Freedom. Ruben always complained about his weight, so before every mission Beau would hang his friend’s favorite candy bar in the cockpit. Ruben would complain — but he always ate it. Beau had not forgotten.
He grinned. “Yeah, I can tell, and it seems like ya got the same control.” They both chuckled.
Again Ruben bit into the rapidly disappearing candy. With a full mouth he mumbled, “Well don’t do it anymore. I’m eating this just for you.”
“Say, how is Grandy?” Beau asked.
Ruben smiled as he thought about his Great-grandfather. “Grandy died a little more than a year ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. Still working the small farm the day he died. Ninety-five years old and active till the end,” Ruben said, shaking his head with pride.
Beau knew Ruben loved the old man. Probably the only person he loved more was his wife, Sunday.