Eventually he returns. In his sack is a considerable amount of DT and even some Buzz once more. “I tried to only the stuff ye asked. But we have a max limit per customer, so I threw in some asskicker.”
I give him a month’s worth of salary. I go into another alleyway, and invite Cloud.
But she doesn’t come. Cloud? Cloud!
Oh, now you want me?
What are you talking about?
I saw her, is it because she’s prettier than me?
No Cloud. It’s nothing. We are nothing—hey I swear! Come back please.
I prepare another dose as she continues to attack me.
Just because you think you can put that needle in doesn’t mean we’re…
I shoot up a second time. I am higher. Calmer. Her anger dissipates and we are one again.
There you go my little warrior. There you go.
As I regain composer, I remember I do have a date with Alison soon. I find my way back to the hotel and enter my room, where Blake looks at me queerly. “Lobby in ten minutes!” he says.
“Oh god, I need one hell of a greasy breakfast,” says Vance holding himself over the balcony as I walk to the bathroom.
Isaac rolls off his bed landing on Dmitry and they both yell in surprise, Isaac jolts up then falls over throwing up. “Who let Ivan in?” he says wiping his mouth.
Dmitry curses at him. “Watch out, almost barfed on fucking boots!”
“You Russians sure know how to drink,” says Isaac as he changes his shirt. He looks at me as the rest of the unit does too. “Where the fuck did you go?”
“I had a shitty experience. I think someone laced me with LSD. I passed out in some random chick’s floor and made my way back here.”
“Yeah I saw you booking out the club,” says Vance.
“Did you do her at least?” says Isaac.
“At this point, I don’t remember anything.” I go to the sink to wash myself up.
Dmitry follows behind brushing his teeth. “I wish could get drunk again right now. Probably be dead when ship out with you guys,” he spits into the sink, “knowing Love and reputation.”
“Reputation?” says Isaac. “Like what?”
“Everyone talking about it, they calling all Love, ‘Glorious Bastards of Tionem,’” says Dmitry.
“Now that’s catchy isn’t it?” says Isaac lacing his boots.
“Yeah,” Alex walks to the sink after I finish, “but the real hero of that battle was
Peter.”
Dmitry looks up at me. “So it’s true? You single handedly save day.”
“I just did my duty,” I say. I wasn’t really lying this time. While I feel fucked up from the battle experiences, mixed about with the Buzz. I still feel a little proud over my actions there. I did save the day after all.
Isaac adds his remarks, breaking me from my thoughts. “Aren’t you a saint. As humble as he is courageous too.”
“Anyone would have done it,” I say.
“But they would have been killed,” says Vance. “He saved my life.”
“So there you have it rusky,” says Isaac. “A true American war hero.”
Everyone finishes getting ready. I rest on the bed, sure as hell comfier than concert. Cloud is already leaving but I am actually not too strung out at the moment. I went too far but I didn’t kill him. And I got more time with Cloud at the end of it. Also I am going to see Alison soon. So today is starting to look better already.
We gather into a group taking the elevator down to the lobby. Once there we find Blake and our Ukrainian replacement, Yahir. Blake steps forward, “This is Private Yahir, we talked yesterday about… events. He is glad to join you.”
There is silence till Yahir comes forward. “Sorry, my past life, which should not dictate current situation here as new marine, got in way last night.”
We give him the formalities and leave for breakfast. After the meal, men in the unit begin talking about what they’re doing for the last day. I rise leaving the table first. “Where are you going, Private?” says Blake, as I have been quiet most of the meal.
“I, have an appointment to make.”
“He’s going to meet his girlfriend, sarge,” says Isaac through a mouthful of food.
The others woo and tease me, Blake replies, “I assume she is just a special friend of yours. Well, have a good time Private. Don’t forget tomorrow we are back to fighting a war.”
I wave goodbye, and walk down the street searching for a cab to that café from yesterday. I am excited to see her, and am able to somewhat push away my other anxieties. Today is the day Peter, I tell myself. A cab picks me up and I’m on my way.
I sit nervous before her. I didn’t bring Cloud along because I didn’t want to say some doped stupid statement. But now I really regret it. Last night at the club plays around in the depths of my thoughts. Ready to strike at any moment, and send me to an inhibiting fit of panic and fear. Earlier, an anxious looking guy bumped into my chair that freaked the shit out me. Such a great way to start a date.
She notices my fake talk and artificial words.
“What’s wrong?” she says.
“Nothing, I was just thinking.”
Our coffees arrive and she takes a sip. “About what?”
“It’s not important.”
“I think it is. You’ve been all shut up since we sat down. Don’t be hollow with me. Our date is technically about you telling me what it’s like out there. So tell away.”
My hand threatens to shake. Hold it together. “I’d rather not actually. Tell me about your life back on Earth.”
“Oh come on, don’t change the subject. What, you can’t tell me or you’ll get in trouble?”
I place my hands around the hot coffee. This is a bad idea. Why did I even come?
She looks down at her cup. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rash.”
“The truth of the subject is better not said. It’s easier that way.”
“The truth? That’s why I am here, marine. To learn about it, I am tired of everyone sugar-coating it for me. The media depicting everything as jolly. I guess you can’t help me then. I want to know what’s real.” She begins to rise out of her chair.
I swallow my fears as best I can. I have to say something to keep her. I’ll tell her the simple truth, some of it at least. “I hate sleeping.”
I feel her gaze on me, I stare up at her.
“What?” she says with a sting of venom as if I said something already obvious and stupid.
“You want some truth about the subject, I am about to tell you.”
She sits back down. “Okay. Tell me. That’s what I wanted in the first place.”
The waitress adds sugar to our table. I add some stirring it in and take a sip. I haven’t had something this tasty since before I entered Parris Island about four months ago. I lower the cup and stare at the foamy design inside it. “I hate sleeping. I hated that, us as humans, already have such a short life, so little time to do anything before we die. I hate that we spend almost half our time alive, just sleeping. Sleeping, not living, not doing the things we want to do. Just lying useless and exhausted in our beds when we can’t keep our eyes open any longer. I hate it because it reminds me of death. It’s a little demo of what is to come. You get tucked up in your blanket, you lie there doing nothing, then darkness takes over, and you’re dead for a few hours. Half our lives, we are forcibly practicing for death.”
“But we dream sometimes, that’s different than death,” she says.
“Is it? We all know dreams are just rearrangements of our past experiences and thoughts. But what if we went beyond that. What are dreams really? I had lots of dreams before this war started, of what I wanted to do or be. Now I don’t have any. My dreams in life are no different than the dreams I have when I sleep. They are both fake. But if it’s all imaginary, even before I realized it, that is my dreams and the dreams I have sometimes while sleeping, what are we left with as real? Stuff we don’t like. Such as wars. So we fake it, we dream over again to escape it.”