Raising Rain (23 page)

The next morning, a long line of cars snaked through the gate at MCRD and they got out of the car at the checkpoint to let the MPs check over the car, including the trunk and under the hood. Other families stood around waiting for their cars to be checked: mothers, fathers, grandparents, brothers, sisters, cousins, children, and babies. Bebe began to wish that they had a better showing for Family Day and hoped that Scott wouldn't be too disappointed with just the four of them.

The day began with an orientation in the courtyard with the drill instructor. Afterward, they heard deep male voices chanting in the distance. A twitter ran through the crowd as more people recognized the sound. The officer explained that the recruits were doing a motivational run and would line up behind a rope barrier where they could find their recruit, but the recruits were not yet permitted to interact with them.
Then they would return to their squad bay to get cleaned up and the ceremony would soon follow, after which they would be able to spend the afternoon on base together.

The families hurried en masse to the roped area and waited in anticipation. Bebe heard the voices grow louder. Her heart swelled with pride and she felt tears prick her eyes at the thought of seeing Scotty again.

A blur of green T-shirts and running shorts bobbed along and stopped behind the rope directly across from the waving and yelling families. The men snapped to parade rest, standing stony-faced, with eyes focusing on a point beyond the heads of their ecstatic families, just six feet away.

Bebe scanned the faces, anxious that she would miss Scott.

“Do you see him?” Bebe yelled to Neil, who stood taller than the others in front of them.

Neil shook his head and continued to scan the crowd. It was impossible to tell one from the other, they had so assimilated with short hair and bodies tightened by being pushed to unfamiliar limits. Not one of them cracked a smile. The noise was unbelievable. Every family member shouted and waved at their recruit.

“There he is!” Neil shouted. He grabbed Bebe's arm and pushed her ahead of him through the pulsing crowd. And there he was, standing tall behind the rope, tanned and looking so much older, the muscles in his arms more defined and his face slim and etched.

She yelled and gestured along with the thousands of other family members, but Scott focused on a point where faces couldn't be discerned. It was like being on the other side of a looking glass and not being able to communicate. Soon, the drill sergeant gave them the signal to move on, and they jogged out of sight.

They looked from one to the other with shining eyes and then followed the group to the auditorium and found seats. The group was addressed by officers about the day's coming events and shown a slideshow about boot camp. Bebe was amazed at the challenging training that Scotty had experienced over the last thirteen weeks.

After what seemed like an eternity, they were told to move to the stands where the ceremony would take place. The officers stated clearly and in no uncertain terms that they were not to cross the parade deck, as it was only for Marines who had successfully completed boot camp. Bebe was amazed at how many clueless people still crossed onto the blacktop and were sternly reminded to go around. They took seats directly in front of the area where Scott's platoon would be standing to receive the eagle, globe, and anchor. The crowd reached fever pitch when they heard the first platoon enter the parade grounds. Everyone stood and craned their necks to see the lines of uniformed men marching in to stand before the crowd.

Orders were given, and far down the line, out of sight, Bebe heard the slap of each unit turning as one to face the stands. Bebe couldn't see Scott until his platoon turned with a snap. There, in front of her on the parade deck, was her son in his uniform. Neil took pictures, and then handed the camera to Bebe when she tugged at his sleeve. She fumbled with the zoom lens, and finally focused on his handsome face, resplendent in detail. He looked for all the world like a man. In spite of herself, she couldn't help thinking of Bobby in his army uniform, looking young and grim. Turmoil and regret for the way things turned out welled up inside her. She almost wished that he were there to see it, too.

It was a beautiful San Diego morning, and the sun heated up the crowds in the metal stands while they waited for each recruit in each platoon to be pinned. Finally, the staff sergeant stood before Scott and handed the pin to him. Scott removed his cover and fumbled with the back of the pin, taking long moments to get it correctly positioned. Then he stood saluting his sergeant, and they moved on to the next recruit. He was no longer a recruit, but now officially a Marine.

Then the last platoon was pinned and the men were released to be with their families. Everyone rushed down the stands and dispersed through the crowd to find their loved ones. When she caught up with Scotty, Dylan had him in a bear hug, pounding his back. He released Scott as Bebe came forward to throw her arms around him. He smelled
like freshly pressed laundry and shaving cream, and he hugged her tight. Tears welled in her eyes and she was laughing in spite of it. Neil hugged him and lifted him off the ground. Rain even wiped away some tears of her own. Bebe was so glad to have her along. She really was part of their family.

They spent the day with Scotty on the base, eating lunch at the Bay View Restaurant and shopping for Marine Corps T-shirts, license plate frames, and bumper stickers. Scotty walked tall and was a perfect gentleman, giving his arm formally to Bebe, always aware of the fact that he had not yet graduated and was still under scrutiny while on base. He showed them around and talked about the guys he'd met and their experiences, especially about the crucible, that challenging two-and-a-half-day test, putting what they had learned into practice. He didn't seem overly disappointed that no other family members attended.

The time finally came to say good-bye until the next morning when they would see him graduate and take him home for ten days' liberty. They pulled away, and Bebe watched him through the window as he waved and joined some friends who were walking back to the squad bay.

The next morning, they checked out of the hotel, loaded the car, and headed over to MCRD to find a spot on the aluminum bleachers for the graduation ceremony. The color guard preceded the men on the parade deck, who marched out with perfect precision, and the band played the Marine Hymn. Bebe was moved by the music and the expansive American flag as it unfurled in the breeze over the proceedings. She silently wished that her parents were here to see him. They would have been so proud. She wondered if they'd regretted not coming, after all.

In no time, the ceremony was over and they were hugging Scott again in a crush of family members trying to locate their Marines. He grabbed his duffel bag and hoisted it over his shoulder as they headed for the car.

“Can we go to In-N-Out?” Scott asked as he buckled in beside Rain. “All the guys have been craving double-doubles for months. It
was the food we talked about missing the most.”

They got on the road and found the closest In-N-Out Burger, discovering that it was also the destination of other Marines and their families. Bebe had brought Scott a change of clothes because the only ones he had besides his uniforms were the jeans and T-shirt he'd worn to the recruiter's office thirteen weeks before. She handed him his old backpack with a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt tucked inside. He changed in the restroom, and came out, glancing around self-consciously. She imagined that he felt odd since other Marines were still in their uniforms sitting with their families.

It took them nine hours to drive back home. Scott talked through the first two hours and then fell asleep. Bebe stole glimpses of him over her shoulder. His head lay back against the seat and his mouth slacked, looking like the old Scotty, except leaner and with a tan line showing through his close-cropped hair delineating where his cover had protected his white scalp from the hot San Diego sun.

Bebe felt a deep sense of well-being, with the four people she loved most in the car after an exhilarating two days. Just hearing the lilt and tenor of their voices and listening to topics of conversation she wouldn't ordinarily be part of opened windows into their everyday lives. Dylan told Scott about friends and activities on campus that only a brother would appreciate, and Scott shared some of the stupid antics of his bunk mates that almost cost their platoon a night's sleep or a phone call home. Rain teased him about changing his diapers when he was a baby, and asked him questions that Bebe hadn't, such as what movies he wanted to catch up with, and whether he'd written to any girls while he was gone.

Once at home, Bebe asked him what favorite meals he would like her to prepare, and she stocked the fridge and cupboards with things he'd missed. Scott and Dylan caught up with friends and played Rock Band late into the night. He replaced the license plate frame on his car with the one he'd bought on base and placed the shiny Marine Corps emblem with “Our son is a United States Marine” on the back of the Highlander.

Driving around town with this symbol of support for the Marine Corps on her car was something new. She wondered what Bobby would say if he saw it. He would probably call her a hypocrite. Her family might, also. But she began to notice the stickers on cars everywhere all over town, and felt like they had entered a vast brotherhood of supporters.

Her mom had everyone over for dinner on Sunday and it was Scott's time to shine. Bebe brought photos of the graduation ceremony to share. Rain was invited, of course, but begged off, saying she had plans.

Bobby stopped by briefly to eat and say hello to Scott. He certainly didn't give Bebe the time of day. She felt relieved when her mother covered two slices of apple pie with plastic wrap for him to eat later at home, and he left. She heard Scott remind him about his graduation from the School of Infantry in December and encouraged him to come down.

They returned home early after dinner because Dylan had to drive back to school that evening. Bebe wondered what Scott would do to keep busy without Dylan around until he had to return to SOI.

He came by the clinic the next day to say hello to the staff. Everyone made over him. Georgeann offered to let him have his old job back of cleaning the kennels, but he said he was busy catching up on his sleep.

Before they knew it, Scott was washing his clothes and repacking his gear. It amused her to see how serious he became with this process, double-checking again and again to make sure everything was complete.

They drove him to the airport on Monday morning, feeling much more relaxed about this leave-taking. He'd packed his cell phone and charger, and promised to call when he got there and faithfully every weekend. They reminded him to keep in touch with Dylan, too. He packed his iPod and extra clothes for weekend liberty. He said he didn't think he'd be able to come home for Thanksgiving, but unless he got sick and his training was pushed back, he should be home for Christmas.
They kissed him good-bye at the curb in front of the Southwest terminal and watched him wave as he disappeared inside the building.

Bebe breathed a sigh of bittersweet relief. They'd had a great time together as a family and his SOI training was only eight weeks long. They would be able to catch up with him by phone, especially on Thanksgiving, which would help her make it through that day more easily. It would be the first time in their lives that they hadn't all been together for the holiday.

Rain opened the door holding a bowl of Hershey's Kisses and DumDums. Three miniature characters looked up at her, one peering from a tricked-out stroller.

“Trick-or-treat!” they yelled in uneven cadence, producing their reflective sacks.

“Oh, my,” she said. “Who do we have here?”

“I'm fairy Barbie,” said a girl in a pink cloud of organza, pushing forward with her open bag. Her bitten fingernails glittered with frost and pink makeup flushed her face.

“Me! Me! I'm Buzz Lightyear.” A small spaceman wiggled in beside her, knocking his soft helmet askew.

The little one in the stroller kicked her feet and pushed her Dora mask up out of her eyes. She held out her bag with the other hand until Rain dropped candy into each bag. Dora reached in to inspect what Rain had given her.

The mother prompted the children to say “thank you” and hurried everyone along as another group came up the walkway. Rain could see their fathers hanging back under the streetlights. One broke away from the group and continued to the next house with Dora, Buzz, and Barbie.

A steady stream of children came for about an hour and a half, some with adults and some unsupervised. As it grew later, they grew older. At 8:30, Rain locked up, shut off the lights, and read by a book
light in her bed. She heard knocks at the door until 9:30, even with the house looking dark and deserted. She hoped whoever it was wouldn't get angry and resort to vandalism.

She tried to gather Noah beside her, but he jumped off the bed. She'd heard some horror stories from the vet clinic about pets being left outside on Halloween and she had made him stay inside all day. His stump of a tail twitched angrily in protest, and she hoped that he wouldn't retaliate with creative vandalism of his own.