A Lover's Lament(42)

Six hours have passed since we took up our position and a whole lot of nothing has happened. Radio chatter from the hundreds of units involved in the mission act as ice picks buried in my eardrums. I’ve read the letter basically a hundred more times, and I still can’t wipe the big, goofy smile off my face.

I know that woman like the back of my hand, and when I’m reading her words, I can hear her saying them just as she would have back then, hand gestures and all. She’d put her hand on her hip and give me the cutest little I’m-trying-really-really-hard-to-look-pissed-off faces. I’d place my hand on her hip, just where the pelvis frames her ridiculously sexy stomach, and I’d slip my other hand to the small of her back, lightly running my fingers back and forth, effectively rendering her body useless. Or that’s how it used to be at least.

"Fuck! I'm so f*ckin’ bored!" Navas whines. "Why have you been so quiet today, man? Both of you f*ckers." I quickly fold up the letter and place it beside me, readjusting the bulge that’s developed.

“Well, Thomas is still passed the f*ck out." Thomas's head is now lodged between the steering wheel and the door. “He's going to be hurting tomorrow…me, I'm just in my own little universe, man. This shit is mind numbing."

"Yeah, man, it’s gonna be the death of me. Two more weeks of this and you're gonna have to pull the barrel outta my mouth," Navas says with a laugh.

"I know, I almost wish something would happen just to break up the boredom." I immediately feel unclean. The words ring in my ears as the thought of a Humvee blown to smithereens owns my thoughts. "I mean, within reason."

"I know what you mean, man. I wouldn't mind putting a couple rounds into some unlucky insurgent," Navas says. "Fuck, is that sick or what? I think I need a vacation."

"You and me both, brother." I check my watch and it's as if the second hand has stalled, moving ever so slowly around the watch face. "Six more f*cking hours." I throw my head back against the headrest, tilting my eyes toward the window.

The noise from the neighborhood has died down, which tells me the squads have moved on to the next block of homes. Iraqi civilians have now gathered in packs, conversing in the street with agitated looks on their faces. Some peer out toward us before turning back to the others and pointing.

I let out a loud sigh, my palms squeezed tightly to my sides. I need to get the f*ck out of this Humvee. Just then I feel movement and turn around to see Navas out of the turret and crouched just behind me, smiling. His perfectly white teeth glow against his tan skin, and as always, it gets me to smile too. "What?" I ask.

"What’s eating you, pumpkin?" His smile grows impossibly wider, and he slaps the back of his fingers against my arm. "Spill it, man."

"It's nothing." I pretend to play with the navigation. “Really, I’m just tired.”

“Dude, I’m the only one awake. Talk to me.” I try my best to stealthily slide an elbow over the envelope lying beside me, but I’m too late.

“Oh shit, man! Katie?” he asks, the smile returning to his face. I slip the letter into the envelope and shove it in the side door compartment. I can feel Navas’s smile burning a hole through the back of my head, but I refuse to turn around.

“What’d she have to say? Was she cool?” He pokes a saliva-soaked finger into my ear and I pull my head away quickly, scrunching my nose and throwing a wild punch that he easily maneuvers..

“Cocksucker, you know I f*cking hate wet willies.”

“I know, that’s why I do it!” He chuckles, causing Thomas and Mike to both stir in their sleep. “So … was she cool?”

I take a moment to think, tugging at the frayed edges of my sleeve. "Well, let’s just say we won’t be doing The Amazing Race together anytime soon.”

We both laugh, and just as I'm about to continue, a gunshot fires in the distance, echoing toward our position. Another one pops off and then another, and clusters of civilians run feverishly back toward their houses.

More shots ring out and Mike is awake and nervously looking around, but Thomas somehow remains sleeping.

"Thomas, wake the f*ck up!" I nudge him in his side, but he doesn't move. "Thomas, wake your f*cking ass up now!" I hiss, and he finally wakes, startled and confused.

"There's some shit going down. I need you to pull it together." Thomas nods his head in affirmation, though he still isn't fully there. I direct my attention back to Navas.

"You see anything up there?" While I wait for him to respond, I peer out the windshield opposite the neighborhood toward the field stretching a mile into the horizon. Palm groves and large boulders are scattered across it, making it hard to spot enemy movement.

"I don't see anything. Nothing through the binos. Nothing in the field or adjacent neighborhood, but there’s a lot of cover that way,” Navas yells down through the hatch. “You think it's a sniper?"

"That's what it sounded like to me. Who the f*ck are they shooting at though?" Two more rounds pop off. I notice movement in the neighborhood, but I can’t make out what’s going on.

As I'm about to have Thomas drive toward the houses, a mob of civilians—at least ten to fifteen—exit the neighborhood and make their way to our position. They're frantically pointing toward the field and then back at the street. A woman slips between the mob carrying something in her arms. It looks like a little sack of potatoes covered in a light blue shawl. A deep red quickly overwhelms the blue. Fuck.