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Harsh Realities 2<\/strong><\/p>\n

That Sinking Feeling<\/u><\/p>\n

The words: \u2018I wouldn\u2019t know what to say\u2019; had just spilled out after Michael asked me if I\u2019d written to Amparo\u2014and it was true.\u00a0 I really didn\u2019t know what to say, or think, about this whole situation with Amparo.<\/p>\n

Ever since arriving in Winnemucca I had been wrestling with my conscience about this engagement thing and wondering how in the world I ended up getting trapped into this situation.\u00a0 Before I\u2019d been talked into buying a set of wedding rings, I had never even considered marrying anyone\u2014had never even remotely thought about it!\u00a0 Now here I was, more than fifteen-hundred miles from my home with absolutely no plans for my future except that now I had a fianc\u00e9 waiting for me to return and marry her and become her husband.\u00a0 Husband\u2026\u00a0 <\/em>The word sounded foreign and had absolutely no meaning to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo\u2026what are you gonna do?\u201d\u00a0 Michael asked, startling me slightly and pulling me temporarily out of my funk.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d I sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell shit man, you gotta write her, right?\u00a0 You can\u2019t just go on and do nothing.\u00a0 Maybe you can just tell her you thought about and decided it was all a mistake.\u00a0 Then you can just say you\u2019re sorry.\u00a0 Oh, and you\u2019ll want to get that ring back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know\u2026I really don\u2019t want to think about it right now.\u00a0 I\u2019ll figure something out later on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK man, it\u2019s your funeral; just trying to help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I guess it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

Michael shrugged and drained his shot glass, washing the whiskey down with a couple of sips from his water glass.<\/p>\n

I stared down at what was now my third shot of Jack Daniels and wondered if I could down it all in one slug.\u00a0 I was feeling what seemed to be a snug halo of warmth surrounding my face and sensed a soft pleasant hum buzzing somewhere in the back of my head.\u00a0 I raised the glass to my lips and tipped it back quickly\u2014feeling the cool liquid hotness slide over my tongue and down my throat.\u00a0 A long draw of tepid water flushed the growing bitterness away and I suddenly felt a fuzzy giggle rise up from my chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Michael exclaimed, obviously surprised at my sudden change of mood.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, nothing.\u201d I mumbled.\u00a0 \u201cJust starting to feel good, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, for a guy who\u2019s standing on the fucking gallows with a rope around his neck you\u2019re pretty mellow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? Oh! Ha! I get it.\u201d\u00a0 A mental picture of me waiting for the trap door to be sprung by my mother materialized in my mind.\u00a0 \u201cYeah, she really put me there, didn\u2019t she?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know.\u00a0 Her!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the fuck you talking about, man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey Sid!\u201d I called out, a bit too loudly.\u00a0 \u201cHow \u2018bout another one of these.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa partner!\u201d Michael said.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s my dime you\u2019re riding on.\u00a0 I\u2019m supposed to be offering!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, I\u2019ll pay you back!\u00a0 What\u2019s these costing me anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sid stepped up and filled my shot glass from the square black-labeled bottle.\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t worry boy, this here nigger\u2019s good for it.\u00a0 And, if he\u2019s not, I am.\u00a0 Drink up!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, fuck you Sid!\u201d\u00a0 Michael growled.<\/p>\n

\u201cBest you\u2019ll ever have, and you know it!\u201d\u00a0 In one smooth motion, Sid slid the bottle from my shot glass to Michael\u2019s, topping it off without losing a drop.\u00a0 \u201cOn the house, from the resident white cracker.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s more like it–as much as I spend in this dump every week.\u201d\u00a0 Michael\u2019s voice now softer now, with a hint of grin.<\/p>\n

Without another thought, I brought the small gold-rimmed glass up to my mouth and quickly drained the dark brown liquor.\u00a0 Smooth and warm, with not even a bite, I tipped my head back to let the smoky liquid settle into my ever-warming tummy.\u00a0 I slammed the glass down and decided to not chase it with water.\u00a0 I look to my right to see Michael grinning at me a bit, and I noticed that the room seemed to spin just a bit.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou OK, buddy?\u201d Michael asked, cocking his head slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, sure.\u00a0 Feel good\u2026\u201d I replied, suddenly feeling laid back.\u00a0 \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell for one, you\u2019ve got a big shit-eating grin all over your face.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah\u2026you do.\u00a0 Let\u2019s have one more then we\u2019ll get back to the base.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWorks for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I recall having just a little bit of trouble sliding off the stool as Michael was settling up with Sid.\u00a0 My legs had grown heavy and the entire bar seemed to be slowly rotating one way then back the other.\u00a0 I walked slowly to the door and was surprised to see that the afternoon had cooled considerably and the day\u2019s brightness had dulled to a pleasantly muted hue.<\/p>\n

Taking a deep gulp of Winnemucca\u2019s dry desert air, and exhaling slowly, I again tasted the aged whiskey\u2019s sweetly smooth and smoky essence caress my nasal passages on its way out.\u00a0 Glancing around I noticed the starkly stoic gray mountain in the distance\u2014the odd white radome capping its highest peak like a colorless cherry on a dirt gray ice cream sundae.<\/p>\n

In the stillness of the moment, a pulsing rush of anticipation rumbled deep inside my core and a wispy mental picture of Amparo\u2019s face pushed itself ghost-like into my thoughts.\u00a0 I held my breath and imagined her again on that porch the day I\u2019d given her the ring:\u00a0 pale pink lips frozen between sweet happiness and bitter sorrow, her delicate shoulders slightly trembling and tears slowly streaming down her cheeks.\u00a0 An urgent yearning gripped me and I found myself desperately wanting to reach out\u2014pulling her close and holding her as I had never done before; and probably as I should have done on that day many miles ago.\u00a0 My throat tightened, my eyes stung, and I felt my hands ball into fists.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey!\u00a0 You ready?\u201d\u00a0 Michael\u2019s cheery voice violently pulled me back to the door of the ancient dusty bar.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh, oh yeah,\u201d I croaked, as I was rudely yanked back to reality.\u00a0 \u201cJust waiting on you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He brushed by me, all but gliding on the pebbled sidewalk, heading towards the Star\u2019s rear parking lot.\u00a0 \u201cCome on,\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019ll get you back in time for evening chow.\u201d<\/p>\n

True to my military training, I fell in lockstep but wondered why my legs felt loose and rubbery.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d Michael said as he started the old Chevy, \u201cit\u2019s none of my business\u2014and if it were me I\u2019d tell you to fuck off\u2014but, you really need to actually talk to that girl back home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I know.\u201d\u00a0 I said sullenly.<\/p>\n

\u201cSeriously man, write her and tell her how you feel.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I will.\u201d\u00a0 My reply not even convincing me.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, look\u2014again, not really my business, but how do<\/u> you feel about her anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that sucks.\u201d\u00a0 Michael said quietly as we spun out of the parking lot.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, it does.\u201d\u00a0 My voice trailing off.<\/p>\n

We rode in silence for the next three miles, the flat gray tumbleweed-dotted landscape passing silently as I stared vacantly out the window.<\/p>\n

Pulling into the makeshift carport Michael shut off the wheezing engine.\u00a0 I opened the door and all but fell out of the passenger side.\u00a0 Making an exaggerated effort to maintain my balance I held tightly to the door and said, \u201cHey, thanks for this afternoon.\u00a0 I\u2019ll pay you back, I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u00a0 Next one\u2019s on you bud.\u00a0 Hope you get paid pretty soon!\u201d\u00a0 Big smile, lots of white teeth.<\/p>\n

Struggling to get my bearings, I pointed myself in the direction of the barracks building and pushed off at a rather unsteady gait.<\/p>\n

I remember thinking that I had never really noticed how uneven the sidewalk leading to my barracks was.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

I was surprised when I awoke later on that evening to find that I\u2019d fallen asleep on my bunk fully clothed.\u00a0 Lying there crossways\u2014left foot on the floor\u2014shoeless\u2014and the other foot, with shoe still half on, hanging off the end of the bed.\u00a0 A dull throbbing pulse was beating a slow but painful cadence deep inside my brain and my mouth felt like it had been stuffed with extra-dry cotton balls.<\/p>\n

The small room was dark, save for a dim luminescent glow coming from the numbers on the face of the cheap wind-up alarm clock resting prominently on the tiny military issue tin dresser behind my head.\u00a0 Wondering what time it was, I swung my right leg off the bed and onto the floor in an attempt to look behind me and was greeted with a violent explosion of pain blowing forward from my lower neck to the inside of my forehead.\u00a0 Squeezing my eyes tightly against the sudden ache behind them, a blast of brightly-colored stars exploded in the blackness and my stomach did a slow rolling somersault.<\/p>\n

I sat tentatively, butt on the sharp edge of the mattress with my head in my hands, my stomach still undulating uneasily and rested my head slowly onto my hands, elbows perched on my knees.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t feel well, but wasn\u2019t quite sure what the problem was.\u00a0 Every time I lifted my head to gauge the distance from my bed to the door I felt the room spin a bit and I was having trouble focusing on any one object.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t understand why my stomach felt like I\u2019d just gotten off a rough riding roller coaster.<\/p>\n

Finally, my instincts told me that I had to get up and make my way to the latrine (urinals and toilets).\u00a0 With a gargantuan effort, I pushed myself off the bed and shakily headed for the door, reeling slightly but grabbing the small doorknob just before I lurched headfirst onto the floor.<\/p>\n

Stepping out into the long and brightly-lit hallway, I was suddenly not sure which direction the latrine was.\u00a0 Leaning clumsily on the doorframe I thought I heard someone down the hall and behind me say something.\u00a0 I knew that if I tried to turn around to respond I\u2019d probably fall, so I leaned forward and pushed myself in the direction where I hoped the latrine was.<\/p>\n

Half walking and stumbling, I kept my head down and hurried as fast as I could move, knowing that I was now seconds from throwing up.\u00a0 I needed to find a commode fast!\u00a0 Voices behind me were getting louder and closer but I paid them no heed\u2014intent on reaching the latrine before my throat unlocked and released the terrible mounting pressure high up in my esophagus.<\/p>\n

My bare feet slapping cool tile told me I had finally reached the latrine and I quickly looked up to zero in on a commode.\u00a0 About twenty feet in front of me, lined up like miniature white ceramic thrones, I spied them.\u00a0 Just then, a forceful abdominal spasm froze me in place and a gurgling wave of nausea pushed violently upward through my body.<\/p>\n

Hands grabbed my shoulders from behind, and spun me to the left and down onto the cold checkered tile floor.\u00a0 Another set of hands grabbed my neck and shoved my head into a white oblong enclosure reeking powerfully of mint.\u00a0 As I tried to focus, my stomach convulsed and I projectile vomited into the white porcelain thing.<\/p>\n

Frankie, meet Mr. Urinal.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever been that sick in my life, and although I knew that the liquor that I\u2019d consumed had something to do with it I still couldn\u2019t understand how I could feel that bad in such a short time.\u00a0 I remember imploring God that if He helped ease the pain and discomfort just for a little bit I would never drink again.\u00a0 Further, I implored, I would look for a little church in Winnemucca as soon as I could and attend a service to ask forgiveness.\u00a0 This would mark the first of many wretched supplications and false promises that I would make over the years while experiencing the vile after effects of liquor overload.<\/p>\n

After about fifteen minutes of experiencing the painful process of trying to empty an already empty stomach, (commonly called \u201cthe dry heaves\u201d), I was helped to my feet by my unknown benefactors, dragged for a few feet, and unceremoniously dumped onto the floor of the communal shower.\u00a0 Suddenly, sharp needles of ice cold water pummeled me from head to foot; and although shockingly cold the stinging shower helped me regain some of my fogged over senses.<\/p>\n

I stood up unsteadily, water now banging my face and head, and blindly searched for the faucet to turn off the painful needles.\u00a0 I looked around trying to remember if I\u2019d brought a towel with me.\u00a0 I hadn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Leaning against the cold tile wall I looked down to assess my state of dress.\u00a0 Thankfully, I was only wearing my white military issue boxer shorts, which were drenched and clinging wetly to my skinny midsection.<\/p>\n

Pushing myself away from the wall I shakily plotted a route out of the communal shower and headed to the exit door.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey chico,\u201d a voice cheerily coming from the direction of the wash basins, \u201cfeeling a little bit better?\u201d<\/p>\n

Thinking the question was serious, I tried to get my foggy mind to form an answer\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cHe don\u2019t fucking look like he feels better!\u201d\u00a0 Another deeper voice chimed in, ending with a throaty chuckle.<\/p>\n

Afraid that turning my head to find my tormentors would summon another painful bout of dry heaves, I stared straight ahead, eyes glued to the doorway and stumbled out into the hallway.<\/p>\n

Laughter echoed behind me as I headed back to my room careening off the walls.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

I woke up Sunday morning to a pounding headache and a most disgusting taste in my mouth.\u00a0 Laying quietly in my bunk I slowly glanced down to the floor and saw a pair of wrinkled boxer shorts that appeared to be turned inside out.\u00a0 Tentatively I pulled the thin sheet up to glance down at myself and discovered that I\u2019d apparently gone to sleep completely naked.\u00a0 Closing my eyes and forcing myself to concentrate, I gradually and painfully attempted to recalled the foggy events from the night before.<\/p>\n

I felt a deep embarrassment, but I still didn\u2019t completely understand why I had gotten so violently ill.\u00a0 I knew it must\u2019ve had something to do with the alcohol that I\u2019d consumed, but since I\u2019d never drank before I wasn\u2019t sure that it had been the sole cause.\u00a0 I was confused and felt oddly empty and weak.<\/p>\n

As I lay there thinking about what had happened to me, my thoughts gradually turned to Amparo.\u00a0 As I pictured her on her porch the last time I saw her a deep dread began to creep into my already stressed-out mind and a slight tremble passed through my body.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t put a name to the dark feelings that were beginning to churn through my mind, and I surely had no idea that I was in the throes of a full-fledged anxiety attack.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d been in Winnemucca a few days and knew that by now I should\u2019ve already written her at least one letter\u2014but I just couldn\u2019t come up with what I should say to her.\u00a0 Even at this early stage of my enlistment I knew that my life had taken an extremely radical turn; a turn that I barely understood and knew would be difficult, if not impossible, to explain to anyone who had known me previously.<\/p>\n

Although I was no longer under my parents\u2019 or the church\u2019s suffocating control, and was free to live my life as I pleased, there still remained one little thread of connectivity that my mother had so deftly bound to me.\u00a0 Amparo.<\/p>\n

Closing my eyes tightly I choked off a rising tide of panic\u2014and the question that would torture me endlessly kept swirling in my brain: how could I have possibly agreed to marry someone\u2026anyone?\u00a0 My God, how?<\/p>\n

I had absolutely no concept of what marriage was.\u00a0 Hell, I had no concept of what living alone was supposed to feel like!\u00a0 Since leaving basic training a little over a month ago I\u2019d entered a routine where I had pretty much control of every detail of my daily life.\u00a0 I was just learning to live independently, and now in the near future\u2014maybe even next year, I had committed myself to live the rest of my life with some girl I hardly knew.\u00a0 The concept was so gigantic to me that I couldn\u2019t even picture what that would be like.\u00a0 I felt myself begin to tremble.<\/p>\n

I played the scenario in my mind repeatedly.\u00a0 I had only wanted to take my mother to lunch, and somehow she had talked me into buying a set of wedding rings.\u00a0 (Did she really talk me into it, or did I suddenly think it was a good idea?)\u00a0 Lord, I was so confused.<\/em><\/p>\n

Maybe if I wrote a letter to Amparo, (I thought desperately), and explain to her that all this was really a big mistake.\u00a0 That I really hadn\u2019t meant it!\u00a0 (No!\u00a0 That would be so mean.)<\/em><\/p>\n

Should I tell her that I don\u2019t think I love her?\u00a0 Would that be true?\u00a0 Do I?\u00a0 How do I find out if I do love her?\u00a0 How do I find out if I don\u2019t?\u00a0 I like her a lot.\u00a0 How much like equals love?\u00a0 How can I convey that in Spanish?\u00a0 Wait, I should write it in English.\u00a0 She is, after all, a high school graduate.<\/em><\/p>\n

OK, a letter\u2019s no good. \u00a0I should just call her and talk this out.\u00a0 (But, could I afford the long distance charges?\u00a0 Would her parents accept a collect call?)\u00a0 Does she love me?\u00a0 God, what if she tells me she does and she can\u2019t live without me?\u00a0 Then what? <\/em><\/p>\n

I was really shaking now.<\/p>\n

I sat up suddenly\u2014the effort sending undulating waves of pain through my head and causing my stomach to do a frightening flip-flop.\u00a0 Dropping my aching head into my hands I tried to force myself to push all thoughts of Amparo out of my mind.\u00a0 I looked up at the little alarm clock on the table at the end of my bed: one o\u2019clock!\u00a0 Hell, if I hurried I could still make noon chow, and being Sunday it would be steak day!\u00a0 Yeah! \u00a0I can think about all this later after I eat; but now I need a shower\u2014a proper one.<\/em><\/p>\n

Standing up a bit unsteadily, I reached for the small cabinet where I stored my underwear and pulled out a clean pair of boxers.\u00a0 Holding on to the bedpost I slipped into my shorts while grabbing a fresh bath towel from the lower shelf.\u00a0 Gingerly stepping around the trashed boxers, still lying on the floor, I eased out into the hallway hoping I wouldn\u2019t run into any wise-assed protagonists on my way to the community showers.\u00a0 A soggy memory of my having taken this little trip a few hours ago popped into my aching head, but at least this time I wasn\u2019t bouncing off the walls.<\/p>\n

Procrastination 101<\/u><\/p>\n

I began my radar training about a week after my arrival at the radar station, and had been assigned to a crew of six airmen supervised by a staff sergeant named Nietzsche.\u00a0 Although only an E-5, he lived on station in one of the few homes designated for senior staff with his wife and two-year-old daughter.\u00a0 In addition to Sergeant Nietzsche and two other staff sergeants, the station\u2019s officer corps consisted of the base commander, a major; two captains, a first lieutenant, a tech sergeant (E-6), and a master sergeant (E-8).\u00a0 They all lived in station housing, as there were more vacant units than there were officers and non-coms.<\/p>\n

Single junior airmen like me lived in Quonset hut units, which were partitioned into single and double rooms on either end, with the latrine and shower facilities in the middle of the structure.\u00a0 If you happened to be a married junior airman, you had to find living quarters in Winnemucca itself.\u00a0 A housing stipend was added to your monthly paycheck for rent and utility expenses, but of course, every property owner in town knew exactly how much the stipend was and adjusted the rent on their properties accordingly.<\/p>\n

My job as a height-finder radar operator turned out to be insanely boring.\u00a0 It consisted of my staring at two synchronized radar screens for hours on end.\u00a0 Whenever the SAGE (Semi-Automatic Ground Environment) Center\u2019s master computer in Reno detected an aircraft that for some reason was not on its flight planned route or altitude, it sent an electronic signal to my console.\u00a0 The suspect target would then show up on one screen as a vertical line and on the other as a horizontal line.\u00a0 My job then was to move an electronically generated curser by rolling a track ball with the palm of my hand and dissect the vertical target in half with the electronic cursor.\u00a0 Once the cursor was positioned correctly, I would lock it in by punching an amber button on the console\u2014then electronically send the data by pushing a green \u201cSEND\u201d button within five seconds.\u00a0 This would transmit the target\u2019s altitude and geographical position to Reno\u2019s computer\u2014helping it match up this data with a possible aircraft on a pre-filed flight planned route.\u00a0 If the data didn\u2019t match any known aircraft, intercept fighters would be sent up to investigate.<\/p>\n

It was boring beyond comprehension!\u00a0 Altitude requests would average two to three an hour; and all the while I was required to \u201cmaintain a steady vigil\u201d by keeping my eyes on the scope and nowhere else.\u00a0 After a short thirty-minute break, I was back at it.\u00a0 Lunch, commonly called chow\u2014whether it was noon, evening or morning\u2014was forty-five minutes long and because there were no kitchen facilities anywhere in the center, our meals consisted of box lunches packed with dry sandwiches that had ridden with us on the ride up the mountain.<\/p>\n

However, the worst thing of all were the shifts that we had to work. My schedule was commonly called a \u201cnine and three\u201d:\u00a0 Nine consecutive days on duty, with three days off.\u00a0 The nine duty days were divided up this way: three evening shifts (4pm-12am); three day shifts (8am-4pm); and, three midnight shifts (12am-8am).<\/p>\n

By the time my days off came around I was so tired I would typically spend my entire first day off in bed.\u00a0 The next two days would blur by with trips to the chow hall, the mailroom (looking wistfully at my empty mail slot), and the recreation building\u2014referred to as the \u201crec room\u201d.\u00a0 There, I\u2019d lounge on the cheap plastic-covered couches and chairs, watching the small black and white television set hanging on the wall, or observing the endless games of eight-ball being played on the pair of decades-old pool tables.<\/p>\n

Days stretched into weeks, weeks into months, and still I could not find it in myself to write\u2014anyone.\u00a0 Phone calls were pretty much out of the question, mostly because there was only one general use phone in the rec room, and it was almost always in use.\u00a0 Further, there was absolutely no expectation of privacy for anyone.\u00a0 Those who bravely attempted to carry on a telephone conversation with anyone, parents included, could expect to be verbally harassed by the ever-eavesdropping crowd of pool-playing or chair-lounging kibitzers.<\/p>\n

Crude comments like, \u201cTell her you love her Billy\u2026as much as you love your palm!\u201d; \u201cMommy, I miss you and I wanna come home!\u00a0 Please!!\u201d;\u00a0 \u201cCome on Ronnie, quit talking to that bitch and finish doing me!\u201d (All delivered in a high-pitched warbling squeal)\u2014convinced me that I would not be calling home anytime soon.\u00a0 At least not from here.<\/p>\n

One Saturday afternoon, on my second day off, I decided to stop by the mailroom on my way to noon chow.\u00a0 I\u2019d slept through breakfast so I hurried so as not to miss lunch.\u00a0 Approaching my assigned mailbox I glanced at it casually and saw what appeared to be an envelope resting diagonally behind the small glass window.\u00a0 My heart jumped and my stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

Spinning the tiny combination lock tentatively, I quickly opened the door and found an envelope with colorful red, white, and blue borders.<\/p>\n

\u201cPAR AVION<\/u><\/strong>\u201d, the bold red lettering on the envelope\u2019s face announced.\u00a0 Wow!\u00a0 <\/em>I thought.\u00a0 It came via airmail!\u00a0 Must be important!<\/em><\/p>\n

I saw my name and the radar station\u2019s address written in my mother\u2019s childlike cursive.<\/p>\n

My lower abdomen tensed with a sharp stab of anxious anticipation as I held the thick envelope in my hands and tried to imagine what the letter said.<\/p>\n

With all thought of food now completely gone, I walked rapidly back to my room tightly gripping the letter, and dreading what I might find when I finally screwed up the courage to open the envelope.\u00a0 I sat heavily on the edge of my bed and turned the envelope over and over in my hands before finally ripping the edge off.\u00a0 I slowly extracted its neatly folded contents.<\/p>\n

It turned out to be two letters.\u00a0 One was written by my mother on a couple of sheets of my leftover three hole loose leaf paper was folded first lengthwise then over itself twice.\u00a0 A second letter written on thin, lightly lined, onionskin-like stationery was neatly tucked inside my mother\u2019s letter.\u00a0 It was one sheet, folded carefully over itself, with its message written in small tortured script.<\/p>\n

I put the two letters down on the mattress next to me and busied myself looking at the envelope\u2019s postmark, printed and smeared messily over the four two cent stamps my mother had glued haphazardly in the upper right hand corner.\u00a0 It had taken four days for the letter to get to me and I wondered what kind of airplane took that long to fly from Texas to Nevada.<\/p>\n

I knew I was stalling, but I had to.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t want to read the words that my mother and Amparo had written in their letters; their mere presence there on my bed was making me feel as if I were smothering in a cloud of fear, anxiety, and regret.\u00a0 I felt trapped and helpless.<\/p>\n

The regret I felt for not having communicated at least once since I\u2019d arrived four months prior was suddenly enormous.\u00a0 But what would I have said anyway?\u00a0 I had no words for my predicament\u00ad\u00ad, and if I didn\u2019t understand it myself, how could I explain it to anyone else?<\/p>\n

Standing up and pretending to straighten out the little table that served as my desk, I saw that my hands were shaking.\u00a0 Frightened, I bolted from my room, slamming the door behind me as I all but ran to the rec center, thinking that maybe the chaotic atmosphere there would help clear my head enough so that maybe later on I could return to face the words that I surely knew were in those letters.\u00a0 I was relieved to find the place crowded, loud and boisterous.\u00a0 With all the chairs and couches occupied, I found an empty space and I scrunched down on the floor, my back to a wall. Concentrating on the boisterous group currently arguing over the validity of a called pool shot on the billiards table in front of me, I tried to put all thoughts about the letter out of my mind.<\/p>\n

Later that night, when almost everyone had cleared out of the rec room, I reluctantly got up and began the long slow walk back to my dorm.\u00a0 I entered my dark little twelve by twelve room, and flipping on the light switch spied the two letters, still where I left them on the bed.\u00a0 Knowing that I would have to read them read eventually, I reached down with a sigh and a feeling of impending doom, and scooped them up.\u00a0 \u00a0Pulling out the chair to my small writing table, I tossed them onto the table.\u00a0 Which one should I read first?<\/em>\u00a0 Without giving further thought to the issue, I decided that maybe I should read my mother\u2019s first, since it seemed to be the longest one and probably the least painful.<\/p>\n

My hands, with just the slightest hint of a tremble, unfolded her letter and I began to read.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The Letters<\/u><\/p>\n

Mom<\/u><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/u><\/p>\n

October 10, 1961<\/em><\/p>\n

Hi Mijito,<\/em><\/p>\n

How are you?\u00a0 Me and your daddy are ok.\u00a0 He\u2019s still working during the week and trying to go to church most of the evenings and on the weekends (Saturday & Sundays).\u00a0 We miss you mijito, and your brother does too.\u00a0 I keep looking at the mailbox every day hoping to get a letter from you but I guess you are very busy with the air force.\u00a0 I know your job is very important and you have to help keep the country safe.\u00a0 I know.\u00a0 They are lucky to have you because you are very smart.\u00a0 Even your daddy says so.<\/em><\/p>\n

Last Sunday we went to the church in El Campo and then we went to have lunch with Amparo\u2019s family.\u00a0 They miss you too.\u00a0 A lot.\u00a0 She told us she has not heard from you either and wonders what is going on.\u00a0 Can you write to me and tell me?\u00a0 I told her you are very busy and maybe don\u2019t have time to write.\u00a0 She agreed and knows you are doing very important work for the government.\u00a0 She misses you.\u00a0 She cried a little.\u00a0 Pobrecita.\u00a0 (Poor little one).<\/em><\/p>\n

So I told her to write you a little letter and I would try to find the air force address where you are living and working.\u00a0 Then I can send her letter with mine.\u00a0 She really misses you, because when I told her this she stood up quickly and said she was going to write you a letter right away.\u00a0 Did you give her your address?\u00a0 We don\u2019t have it either.\u00a0 But I called the Air Force after I found the number in the phone book, and a very nice man looked up your base in Nevada and gave me this address.\u00a0 I hope you get this letter OK.<\/em><\/p>\n

I told him I was worried because no one had heard from you and we thought something may have happened.\u00a0 He told me not to worry because sometimes the soldiers get very busy and don\u2019t have time to write.\u00a0 That made me feel a little better but I\u2019m still worried.<\/em><\/p>\n

If you want to you can call us COLLECT!\u00a0 Your father said it would be OK.\u00a0 OK?<\/em><\/p>\n

Well, I guess this is all.\u00a0 I\u2019m putting Amparo\u2019s letter in with mine so you can read it too.\u00a0 I will put extra stamps on the envelope so it will be sure to get to you.\u00a0 Also, I went to the post office and bought some airmail envelopes so the letters will get to you sooner.\u00a0 It will cost more (the mailman said it would) but that\u2019s OK.<\/em><\/p>\n

Bueno mijito, please take care of yourself.\u00a0 You are a military man now and I know you face dangers every day.\u00a0 I am praying for you and I asked all the church members in all the churches to pray for you too.\u00a0 That should do it.<\/em><\/p>\n

We love you and we miss you.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mom<\/em><\/p>\n

PS. Oh, your dad says he loves you too and said to tell you to write to us and Amparo. She will be your wife soon you know.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Amparo<\/u><\/p>\n

October 8<\/em><\/p>\n

Dearest Frankie,<\/em><\/p>\n

Your mother said I could write you this letter because no one has heard from you since I last saw you here in my house.\u00a0 I am worried, but everyone tells me not to because maybe your letters got lost.\u00a0 But I think maybe you\u2019re mad at me for some reason.\u00a0 I hope not.<\/em><\/p>\n

Everyday I look at the beautiful ring that you gave me and I dream about how nice it will be when we are married.\u00a0 I can\u2019t wait.\u00a0 Can you tell me when you think you can come home?\u00a0 I want to make plans for our wedding but it\u2019s hard not knowing when it\u2019s going to happen.\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

I wish I had a picture of you because I want to see you so bad.\u00a0 Your mother said she would bring me one next time they come to our church to visit.\u00a0 I hope so.\u00a0 I was going to send you a picture of me with this letter but I don\u2019t know if you want to see me.\u00a0 So when you write please tell me if you want a picture.<\/em><\/p>\n

I hope I didn\u2019t do something to make you not like me.\u00a0 At night I can\u2019t sleep sometimes because I\u2019m thinking if I did something wrong.\u00a0 Did I?\u00a0 If I did please tell me and forgive me.\u00a0 I never had a boyfriend before or someone I like so much so maybe I don\u2019t know how to act.\u00a0 When we get married I will try very hard not to make you mad.<\/em><\/p>\n

Your mother told me to write a short letter so I am going to have to stop writing now because they are ready to go home.\u00a0 I have so many things I want to tell you and so many questions I want to ask.\u00a0 But I will have to wait until you write me.\u00a0 Oh, you know you can call me too.\u00a0 I hope you remember my phone number.\u00a0 Since you\u2019re so far away I think it will be long distance.\u00a0 If you don\u2019t have the money, please call anyway.\u00a0 Your mother said it would be a collect call but my papa will pay when the bill comes.<\/em><\/p>\n

OK, I will stop writing now.\u00a0 I miss you and I love you.\u00a0 I hope you love me too, you never told me if you did.<\/em><\/p>\n

(I don\u2019t know if you know my postal address but you can send your letter to Sanchez, General Delivery, El Campo, 34, Texas.)<\/em><\/p>\n

Love,<\/em><\/p>\n

Amparo<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

I was devastated.\u00a0 Sitting alone in my room, my head swirling with thoughts and doubts, and my heart beating rapidly.\u00a0 My eyes, blinking rapidly, were stingingly on the verge of tears.\u00a0 What had I done to Amparo?\u00a0 Questions darted in and out of my mind, but for sure, I had no answers.<\/p>\n

Refolding the letters and slipping them back into the envelope I stood up and wondered what I could\/should do.\u00a0 I undressed down to my skivvies, and after a trip to the latrine, decided that I should get some sleep.\u00a0 It was a very long time before I finally slipped the knots of apprehension, discomfort, and embarrassment, and settled in for a night of worrisome dreams and restless sleep.<\/p>\n

The next day I penned a quick letter to my mother\u2014being careful not to mention anything about Amparo.\u00a0 I mentioned that I had been very busy with work (partially true), and promised to write more often.<\/p>\n

It would be another month before I got the courage to write to Amparo.\u00a0 After much procrastination, I forced myself to sit down and pen this message:<\/p>\n

November 12, 1961<\/em><\/p>\n

Dear Amparo,<\/em><\/p>\n

Hope this letter finds you in good health.\u00a0 I know it\u2019s taken me a long time to write this letter and I ask you to forgive my thoughtlessness.\u00a0 Time has a habit of getting away from me here in Nevada.<\/em><\/p>\n

My work is fine and I\u2019m learning a lot about radar that I didn\u2019t learn in tech school.\u00a0 The weather here is turning very cold, but it\u2019s dry\u2014not at all like Texas.\u00a0 I\u2019m told snow will be falling soon.\u00a0 That should be an adventure for me.<\/em><\/p>\n

I wish I could fill you in on when I\u2019ll be coming back to Texas but I don\u2019t know.\u00a0 My assignment here is for 18 months and, although I earn leave time, I don\u2019t make enough money to bear the cost of transportation to Houston and back.<\/em><\/p>\n

Sometimes I get lonely and sometimes I wish I could talk to you or my parents on the phone but there is only one general use phone here at the station and it is always in use.\u00a0 You have to put your name on a list to use the phone to call home.\u00a0 Most of the other guys here go downtown and use the public phone booths, but I don\u2019t have any way of getting into town.\u00a0 I don\u2019t have a car.<\/em><\/p>\n

Well, I guess this is all.\u00a0 Say hello to your parents.<\/em><\/p>\n

Sincerely,<\/em><\/p>\n

Frank<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/em><\/p>\n

I read my letter over several times before I sealing it and walking it over to the orderly room to buy postage and drop it in the outgoing mailbag.\u00a0 I knew it sounded impersonal and detached, but it was the best I could do.\u00a0 Several times, while writing it, I told myself to say that none of this was ever going to work out.\u00a0 That there would be no wedding, because I didn\u2019t want to marry anyone!<\/u>\u00a0 And, even though I had no idea how I felt about her I decided that I couldn\u2019t just write it out; that that type of news was best delivered in person.\u00a0 So, I fooled myself into believing that someday soon I would travel down to Houston and give her the bad news in person.<\/p>\n

I knew the ring had been a bad idea; an idea that I felt had been forced on me because I was too weak and cowardly to stand my ground and tell my mother that it was not what I wanted to do.\u00a0 But too late now.<\/p>\n

Even now, my cowardice was in full display.\u00a0 I\u2019d completely avoided any mention of affection or commitment, and instead had composed a missive full of insipid generalities.\u00a0 Even so, it had taken me most of the day to pen that letter and get it mailed.<\/p>\n

Stepping out of the orderly room I stood in the dark blustery desert air, and zipping up my field jacket against the biting wind, wondered what I should do now.\u00a0 I dreaded going back to my room and wasn\u2019t in the mood for a game of pool or TV watching in the rec room.<\/p>\n

Just then, I heard the muted strains of the officers\u2019 club jukebox over the whine of the wind.\u00a0 It had been a few weeks since I\u2019d been in there\u2014needing at least a couple of dollars to buy table time with a beer.\u00a0 Checking my wallet, I found that I still had a few one dollar bills, and there was a bit of change in my pocket, so, head down braced against the wind, I walked off in the direction of the club.<\/p>\n

As I pulled up a round seated wooden bar stool, the bartender\u2014a staff sergeant who was a cook in the chow hall\u2014stepped up, and while wiping the bar in front of me asked,\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019ll you have?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I responded truthfully, \u201cwhat do you suggest?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, that depends on your mood, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMelancholy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, that serious, huh?\u00a0 I would guess woman trouble,\u201d he surmised, with a little sideways grin.<\/p>\n

I shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell now,\u201d he said cheerily, \u201cI suggest we lighten your mood by taking you on a trip around the world.\u00a0 What say we start you out in England with a Tom Collins\u2014what do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d I asked innocently.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, this is going to be fun.\u201d He said with a mischievous smile.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s start our little trip.\u201d\u00a0 And, off he went, jiggling ice cubes and pouring a clear liquor and some soda water into a glass full of ice\u2014finally finishing it off with a wedge of lemon. \u201cAfter this one I\u2019ll make you a Singapore Sling!\u00a0 I just learned to make one the other day.\u00a0 Very exotic! Ever had one?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I guarantee you\u2019re gonna love that one!\u00a0 Pretty too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you say so.\u201d I said, as I took my first sip of the clear lemony drink\u2014my first highball, ever.\u00a0 It was bubbly, a little sour, with a distinct aroma of rubbing alcohol.\u00a0 I shuddered a bit as went down.<\/p>\n

Arms crossed, and obviously proud of himself he said, \u201cYup, you\u2019re going to remember this night for a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was so right.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

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\u00a0<\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n

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<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"