JASON STEED Absolutely Nothing (9 page)

“Good, Private Steed, very good. So you're proud of your country?” Armstrong asked. “Would put your country before America?”

“Yes, sir. I am proud of my country. I like America. You're our allies, but I would put my country first,” Jason said. He watched Armstrong slowly approach him.

Armstrong saluted him. “That is the correct answer, Private Steed. You should be proud of your country. You may sit down, but you still need to learn the Pledge of Allegiance.” Armstrong smiled. He took an instant liking to Jason. He admired someone with fire in his belly.

Tex and many of the others looked on open mouthed. They had never seen Armstrong smile before or known anyone stick up for himself in front of him.

At lunch, Jason and Tex joined three others from class. They all smiled when Jason sat down. “Hi Limey, I’m Austin, but I’m from New York so everyone called me Yankee.” Jason shook his hand. The boy was African American and very tall for his age.

“How old are you?” Jason asked.

“Twelve. We're all twelve, except for Cowboy. He’s thirteen,” Yankee said.

“Howdy, Limey. I’m cowboy, the oldest and toughest in class.” He reached over and shook Jason’s hand. He was a skinny kid with a face full of acne. His hair was cut so short he almost looked bald.

“Hi. Do you all have nick names?” Jason asked, trying to make a mental note of the names. “Why Cowboy?”

“Cause he’s bow legged, looks like he’s been riding a horse.” Yankee laughed.

“Riding a cow more like, ” Tex joked.

“I’m bow legged cause of what I got packed between them,” Cowboy joked, making a rude gesture with his hands.

“No, I seen ya in the shower.” Yankee laughed, wriggling his little finger at him.

Jason was enjoying his new school. He still had math and was a complete mess in American history, but was more advanced in French and German. He enjoyed the military activates like target practice, map reading, Morse code, and survival training.

By the next morning, he had mastered the Pledge of Allegiance and said it at the front of the class. English was a little difficult. Corporal Jones taught the class. He asked Jason to come to the front of the class and threw him a stick of chalk, so he could see for himself exactly what Armstrong had described in the staff room. Jason caught it easily.

“Private Steed, as you’re English I expect you should be good in the lesson, but you'll actually struggle a little with spelling,” Jones said.

“I don’t think so, Sir. I’m average at punctuation and spelling. I think I can spell no better or worse than anyone else here,” Jason said. He was unsure of the question or where Jones was going with it.

“I see., Well then Jason, write down the following on the blackboard. Color, Tire, Center, Program,  Yogurt, Labor, and favorite, and Pajamas,.” Jones instructed.

Jason confidently started writing the words on the board. By the time he got to the third word he heard gasps from his classmates behind him. He paused stepped back and looked at his spelling, and when he was happy he continued. When he had finished he turned around to notice the whole class grinning at him. Yankee was shaking his head from side to side.

“Okay, Steed. Sit down. You got them all wrong. This is how to spell them.” Next to Jason’s words he spelt it the American way.

Jason’s English
                      
Corporal Jones

Colour                               Color

Tyre                                 Tire

Centre                               Center

Yoghurt                              Yogurt

Favourite                            Favorite

Pyjamas                              Pajamas

Jason looked at how Jones had spelt the words differently and blushed.

“Don’t look so worried, Steed. You spelt it correctly for an English person, well done. But in the US, we spell words very different. These are just a few. If you spell the English way I won't give you a bad mark.”

Jason wrote to his grandparents and told them he was enjoying the Military Academy. Most people were helpful and friendly, and he enjoyed the lessons. He even admitted to Tex that the American versions of spelling seem to make more sense. He hated the nickname ‘Limey’ but it seemed to stick with him, and he couldn’t shake it off.

He enrolled in a martial arts class; he never really expected much. It was taught by Sergeant Hammonds. The class had twenty students, three from Jason’s year, the other’s all older. It was Taekwondo, where Jason was not only a black belt, but also a 3rd Dan, meaning he was two grades higher than a regular black belt. He had three yellow lines on one end of his belt. The other students watched him as he wrapped his belt around his waist. It also caught the attention of Sergeant Hammonds.

“So you’re the new boy. That’s an impressive belt.” Hammonds smiled. Jason looked up at Hammonds. His own belt was a plain black belt. “Maybe you should teach the class if that is really 3
rd
Dan?”

“Yes, Sir. Third Dan in Taekwondo. I do study other forms, but this is my highest grade and my personal favorite. I started when I was four. I’m pleased we do Taekwondo here.”

After the class ended, Jason continued to work out. Some of the others watched him perform his. Kata’s, His body effortlessly moved across the gymnasium with speed and grace. Each kick and punch was timed to perfection, hitting his imaginary opponent. When Jason was performing forms he was at his happiest, his mind focused on every muscle fiber in his body.

Chapter Ten

Tex looked up from his book when Jason returned to the dorm room. Jason was red faced and his hair wet with sweat.

“Looks like you either got your butt kicked or you’ve been on a five mile march.” Tex grinned.

“Neither. Just a good workout.” Jason sniffed his armpit. “I better take a shower before bed.”

He returned wet a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. Tex had the window open and was gazing outside. Cold air had filled the room.

“Shut the bloody window. It’s freezing in here now.” Jason moaned.

Tex turned and laughed. “I love your swear words, Limey. They're so British. Even when you’re pissed you sound posh.” He gestured Jason towards the window. “Look, the siren has gone off at the Airbase. They've got guards running around, search lights, dogs barking. It’s probably a drill. I doubt the Russians are invading.”

Jason peered out the window with Tex. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. Quentin Roosevelt Airbase was nothing more than an airfield, with modern hangers and large buildings along one side. Yankee had told Jason that is was a research center for the Air Force. Tex and Cowboy argued it was just an old air base. Jason went along with Yankees theory. They had far too much security for just an old base. He thought whatever secrets they had there; they wanted to keep them secret. No one from the Academy had ever been allowed in.

“Okay, now shut the window it’s freezing in here,” Jason said. He quickly pulled on his Pajamas and climbed into his bed, peering out of the top of his covers.

Tex closed the window, turned off the light, and jumped into his bunk and farted for good measure. “On Saturday we go into town. We normally get malt or a root beer and go to the movies. You’ll have to come with us, Limey.”

“A m
alt or a beer? You must think I’m green, no way you guys will get served. You got to be twenty-one here. At least in Britain you can drink at eighteen, but none of you look more that fifteen, even in uniform,” Jason said.

“What are you going on about, Limey? A malt shake or a root beer. You don’t have to be twenty-one to drink them. It’s just milk or soda.” Tex laughed. “Don’t tell me you have never had a malt or a root beer?”

“Nope. I’ve had a milkshake. Is it like that?” Jason asked.

“The malt is. The root beer is like Coke but different.”

There was still an alert on the airbase. Helicopters came and went; searchlights occasionally lit up the dorm room, as there powerful beam passed. Armed Guards with dogs searched the perimeter.

The following morning, news spread like wild fire in the academy. Someone had broken into the base and two guards had been injured. This caused rumours to spread. Some said it was a pilot going crazy. Others said the Russians were invading. Not even the staff at the academy knew the facts. Security was increased on the airbase, and as a safety measure it was also increased on the adjoining academy.

The incident never stopped the daily arrival of the huge C-9B Skytrain II US Navy Aircraft. The planes flew back and forth from Thailand bringing back used military equipment that was used in the Vietnam War. They were trying to salvage as much as possible. Jason learned that just a few months before a flight contained returning troops, some in body bags.

*

The academy competed each year in the annual US Military School Games. This year was no different. The three-day event would be held at the US Marine Corps camp in Pendleton, California. The competition was a small version of the Olympic games with just students from Military academies across the US. Quentin Roosevelt Military Academy had a tradition of winning the most medals. They were known as the academy to beat.

The games consisted of sports such as target shooting, assault course time trials, track events, swimming, karate, and a boxing tournament. Jason noticed the list on the wall outside the mess hall. A large grin ran across his face when he read the word karate. He pulled out a pen and scribbled down his name. So far he was the only one in his year who volunteered. Most of the names where from older students.

*

Ten thousand miles away, forces from around the world were employed to oversee events in Vietnam by the United Nations. They became part of the United Nations peacekeeping force. The Americans had pulled out of the American embassy in Saigon, South Vietnam just weeks before, after a long bloody battle that lasted over thirteen years. It cost the lives of over forty seven thousand American troops and wounding over one hundred and fifty thousand. The Vietnamese lost an estimated one million troops and civilians. South Vietnam had now fallen to the North. The United Nations had a task force off shore in the South China Sea.

The French Navy sent the helicopter carrier Jeanne d’Arc and the British Navy sent the aircraft carrier HMS Hermes. This was the same ship Raymond Steed was to rejoin. They operated a joint observation schedule checking the coastal waters. United States President Ford was concerned there would be a massacre by the North Vietnamese communists against the southerners. The United Nations agreed that America would have no part in the observations because of the war that just ended between the two countries.

Chapter Eleven

Three weeks passed and Jason had only written one letter to Princess Catherine. He did send two to Scott who replied with news and updates from his old school. He had not suffered under the hands of Malcolm Vango. Since the tray incident, Scott had been given a new status most boys left him alone.

Jason asked the operator for the international dialling code to England and called his father. The phone was picked up after three rings.

“Steed residence,” Ray Steed answered.

“Hi, sorry I took so long to call. I’ve been busy and don’t always get time.” Jason smiled. There was a long pause.

“Who is this?” his father asked.