A Soldier's Story (6 page)

       "…I…I'd rather not be seen at the base…"

       This was beginning to sound serious. What the hell had gone on with the infamous missing patrol? "Alright, name a time and place and I'll be there."

~ * ~

       The Castle Grill, tucked away on a side street in the business district, closed at 4:00 pm. Jay glanced at his watch, only another half hour to go. He ordered another cup of coffee, and punched in Forbes' number on his cell phone, still no answer. It didn't look as if he intended to show.

       The winter twilight descended. Snow slithered down from an ashen sky. Rush hour traffic would be murder. He decided to wait it out a while. Stamped his feet to keep warm as he made for the pub on the next block. He needed something stronger than coffee. What the hell had happened to Forbes?

       From a window seat, he sipped on a double Scotch. His cell buzzed. He grabbed it, hopefully. Not Forbes. Kerry. Damn! She wanted to know if he'd like to go out for dinner.

       "It's snowing pretty heavily," he reminded her. "Besides, I have a stack of work to get through. I'll just have something at the base."

       "I won't expect you until late then," she said, in her usual good-natured way. "Keep safe, Jay."

       He drained his glass and ordered another. Work––the usual stack of paper––wasn't the main reason he intended to head back to the base instead of home. He wanted to run a check on Brian Forbes. Find out where he was stationed. Get a current address.

       Driving along the freeway was stop and go, mainly the former. Accidents everywhere accompanied by the screech of sirens, and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles.

       When he finally reached his destination, the sentry looked surprised to see him, and anxious to get back in the gatehouse out of the freezing cold. "We've had a power cut here, sir––ice on the wires– –but the emergency generator has cut in."

       It was an ugly evening to be out.

       In Jay's office it felt chilly. He closed the window blinds to help cut the draught, and kept his overcoat on.

       The last address for Brian Forbes was in Kitchener, Ontario. Jay punched in the telephone number, no longer in service. And as he was no longer in the army––discharged, honourably, although his term had not been up for another year, now that was odd––that was that.

       He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out in circles. Watched it curl up to the ceiling. Why would Forbes stand him up like that and not even telephone? Given the circumstances, Jay felt decidedly uneasy. Snow still drifted down making the roads treacherous, although the ploughs were out in force. He decided to stay at the base for the night and bunk down in the officer's mess.

       The phone call he'd been halfway expecting came in the following morning. It wasn't less of a shock, though, which he found strange.

       The police had traced him through his telephone number, which had displayed on Forbes' cell phone. "We found him down by the docks," the detective said. "He'd been drinking heavily, and froze to death."

~ * ~

       The snow, which had shrouded the city for days finally stopped. Jay stared out his office window. Icicles hung from the trees and kids skated on the Fraser River. He'd been marooned at the base since it began.

       He drank a cup of coffee and mulled over Forbes and his untimely end. Had his death been an accident? The police seemed to think so, but then they didn't know the circumstances surrounding it. Why would Forbes have got blind drunk in the couple of hours between when he spoke to him and their date at the Castle?

       He shrugged. Of course, it was possible. He'd certainly been under a great deal of stress. He could have meant to just have a couple to steady himself, and ended up losing track of time.

       Jay didn't buy it though. He suspected that someone didn't want Forbes to talk about the missing patrol, and silenced him, permanently. He had to talk to someone else who'd been in that patrol. Someone he could trust––at least he thought he could––to be honest.

       "Darren, we have to talk." After several tries, he finally got through to him at Camp Borden.

       "Yeah, sure." He sounded wary, caught off guard. Not surprising under the circumstances. "It's good to hear your voice, Jay."

       Oh and it was so very good to hear his too. It had a certain quality that left a hollow feeling in his chest and gut, and sent shivers through his crotch.

       "Is there anything wrong?"

       Jay hesitated. They were both talking from army bases. Oh crikey, he was getting paranoid. But still…"Could you meet me at a half way point," he said.

~ * ~

       Regina airport huddled beneath a ton of snow. Christmas music shrilled through the hallways.

       Jay arrived first. His flight had been delayed for a couple of hours on account of the weather. Darren's for longer.

       When he finally appeared, Jay felt his heart lurch, and settle somewhere in his throat. "You're looking well," he said. "It's the first time I've seen you out of uniform."

"Likewise." Darren hesitated. "But not quite." He winked.

       It broke the ice, the awkwardness that lumbers in clumsily when people who have been intimate, meet after a long hiatus. Should they acknowledge what they'd once been to each other, or pretend it never happened?

       Jay laughed, and instead of shaking hands they hugged–– warmly. "Let's have a drink," he said, and led the way over to the lounge.

       "I haven't been in touch with anyone from the missing squad since I left Afghanistan." Darren sipped on a brandy. "That's odd about Forbes, though. Too bad."

       "Is the official version of events really what happened?" Jay took off his dark glasses and looked directly into Darren's very green eyes. "And I don't mean that bloody silly statement given out recently by Beaumont."

       "It is to my knowledge." Darren held his gaze, unflinchingly. "Why? Has something happened to make you question it?"

       "Forbes, for one thing."

       "Ah yes. Well boozing heavily, then staggering out in sub zero temperatures to sleep it off, is a no win idea."

       Jay raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall him ever being drunk…at least not anymore than the rest of us."

       Darren shrugged. "Maybe he just fell off the water wagon due to all the current media interest?"

       "Talking of which, how are you coping?"

       "Making the best of it. I just don't show my face outside the camp very often." He grinned. "What better place to be, behind gates with armed sentries?"

       Jay drained his glass and ordered another round. "Look I don't want to harp on this, and it's not that I doubt your word…" Liar!––oh crap it was the horrible little voice again. Why did it always pipe up around Darren?––You don't trust lover boy, admit it. In fact, you don't trust anyone, even the phones on the army base. You're fuckin' paranoid.

       "Well it's just as I said," Darren leaned back in the booth. "Portman had this wild idea about Bin Laden hiding out in the caves, and he talked us into going along with his scheme. I did register my protest, as you already know, and that's about it." He swirled the brandy around in his glass. "When we got to the caves and started hunting around there was an explosion and everything started crumbling. We were pelted with rubble––I thought the whole damned mountain was caving in on us––and it trapped us, buried us alive. We clawed and dug but there was no way out. Eventually we became so weak from lack of food, water and air that we drifted into unconsciousness." He paused. "It's a miracle you came along when you did. We wouldn't have lasted another day."

       Jay craved a cigarette, but they were in a no smoking area. He tossed back his Scotch instead. "I'm sorry to make you revisit a terrifying experience you just want to forget."

       "No worries." He smiled. "The media are doing such a bang up job, I'm getting used to it."

       Desire lay heavy on the air between them. "My returning flight doesn't leave until the morning." Darren tossed back what remained of his drink. "I have a reservation at the Airport Inn."

       Jay trembled, the thought of spending a night together, instead of just a rushed coupling in a supply closet or shower room made the blood pound in his temples. Don't go acting surprised, you hypocrite. The little voice was back. You knew damned well this would happen. All this fact-finding bullshit was nothing more than an excuse to see lover boy again, and jump his bones!

       "It'll be good, Jay." Darren leaned closer, squeezed his hand. "I've missed you, man."

       "Why did you never call?"

       "I could ask you the same question." Darren shrugged. "But at least I have a valid reason. You're married and living with your wife. I didn't want to make waves."

       "Okay, point taken." Jay stood up on legs shaky with excitement. "Let's go."

       When they reached the privacy of the room, they grabbed each other immediately. A mutual grasping and touching and kissing wild with need, that ended on the bed, with their pants down around their ankles. Darren bent over and Jay reamed into him. The release when it came left them slobbering and calling out like savages.

       They lay on their backs gasping. Jay squeezed his eyes shut. How could he ever have deluded himself into thinking he had moved on, and left this part of the past behind him? The lyrics of a half forgotten song drifted back. "But I was always coming back to you."

       The magic night continued. Having Darren in bed with him felt like the Elysian fields right here on earth. They took turns pleasuring each other, licking and caressing all over. Jay never thought sucking cock, could be that much more fulfilling than licking pussy. He worshipped at Darren's balls as if they were a temple. "Beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

       There was just something that much more erotic about having sex with someone whose body parts were the same as your own. You knew exactly where to touch, and so did they.

       When Darren rimmed his ass, Jay thought he'd pass out. He'd never experienced such powerful sensations before and didn't feel altogether comfortable with them. No one had ever touched his anus before, except Desdemona, of course, the little hooker in Cyprus. He'd loved it then too. Did that mean… was it normal? Would men who had never had any interest in another male feel the same way?

       "Time to explore the feminine," Darren whispered and finger fucked what he had licked.

       Jay found it wildly exciting but still held back.

       "Maybe the next time," Darren murmured. "I really would like to fuck you in the ass. You'd love it."

       Jay laughed to conceal his discomfiture. Oh hell, he wanted it as much as Darren did, and yet he didn't, at the same time, more of that conflict from within. Schizoid meanderings. Torment.

        "Anal pleasure isn't only restricted to gay sex, you know," Darren said.

       Well of course he did. Still…

       Towards morning they drifted into an exhausted slumber, and woke when Darren's wristwatch screamed out an alarm––time to get up or he'd miss his flight. Jay watched him dress, hunting around for his clothes, where he had dropped them the night before.

       He searched for the right words to say. It was great, Darren. Nah, it didn't sound right, too trite and trivial for hours of excruciating pleasure that forged a bond between them even stronger than before. Finally, he just put his arms around him and simply said, "I love you," the ring of sincerity unmistakeable. "But you already know that, don't you?"

       "And you know that I love you as much." Darren picked up his overnight bag.

       "Where do we go from here?"

       "That's up to you, Jay. The ball is in your court." They kissed quickly. Jay watched him go. He had a sudden horrible premonition that he might never see him again, and he couldn't bear that. They belonged together. There, it was out. He'd tried to deny it for too long. Had wanted to make a go of it with Kerry. It was safer that way. But heck, he'd been living a lie.

       Think of the scandal warned the little voice. Your family will disown you. Do you really want to come out of the fricken' closet and admit to the world you're a homosexual?

       I'm not a homosexual. Jay argued back, silently. I'm bisexual. I'm not about to give up tits and clits, because by God I enjoy women as well.

       Only when Darren isn't available.

       Shut the fuck up! He covered his ears, jumped into the shower and turned on the water to drown it out.

       But it still managed to be heard.

       I don't think you really want to fuck women at all.

       Oh no. Jay laughed. Just watch me with Kerry when I get home tonight. He felt a sudden urge to do all sorts of unmentionable things to her, then fuck her very hard. She'd be shocked, of course. Their sex life was quite straight and tame.

       That's only to try to prove to yourself that you're still a real man! It fell silent for a while, then added. Are you really so dumb you didn't twig that?

       It was useless trying to shut it up. He knocked back a double Scotch. Okay so he hadn't even had breakfast yet, but still… it calmed his nerves and stopped the self-tormenting chatter.

~ * ~

       "I missed you, Jay." Kerry met him at the door. He pulled her to him. "I get so lonely when you're away."

       "It was only for one night." He kissed her on the lips and smoothed back her hair. "Why don't you let it grow again?"

       "I already am." She smiled up at him. "I know you prefer it long."

       He patted her bum. "Good girl." Sat down and pulled her onto his lap.