The Story Begins (24 page)

“You’re right, Mammy. Can’t argue with wisdom,” Cassandra acknowledged, comfortably lying on the bed, hugging a pillow.

Lydia’s mother looked at her watch. “Looks like we’ll be catching the very last show,” she said as she reached for a pair of black jeans and a white blouse. “Are we almost ready?” she asked as she walked over to the bathroom.

The girls looked at each other then at her.

“Mama, we’ve been ready ever since the laundry was done. We put the clothes away only to pass time while we waited on you,” Cassandra teased.

She stopped half way to the bathroom. “Okay, just give me a few more minutes. I’ve decided not to go with the jeans. Let’s see what else I have in there,” she said, returning to the cupboard.

Lydia lay in bed beside Cassandra while they waited for her mother. “So I’m still not clear. Will you call him at some point or not?” she asked Cassandra.

“No.”

“Why not? You did say that you like him, right?”

“Yes… I think I do. I don’t know why but I think I do. I don’t even know him.”

“Of course you don’t; you just met. People that just meet don’t all of a sudden know each other, love. You’re going to have to call him sooner or later, if for no other reason than because you’d hate it if it were you on the receiving end of a call that never came. The sooner you do call him, the sooner you can end it, or begin to see where it leads to.”

“You’re right.”

“So when?”

“It’s the boy that’s supposed to call the girl,” Cassandra complained.

“I think that was the idea. Remember he did want your number!” Lydia reminded her. “I’m sure he would have called had he had your number. Not to sound selfish but the longer you put off calling him, the more I’ll have you to myself, so I’ve no real complaints,” Lydia said, smiling.

“And I love you too,” Cassandra said, taking her by the hand.

“Mommy, are you ready yet?” Lydia shouted, hoping that her mother heard her; though the bathroom was adjacent to the bedroom, her mother had the radio on the loud side.

“Just about, sweetie!” responded her mother.

22

A Breakdown

For one whose
inner turmoil went unchecked thus setting him upon a path of self-destruction, Jaden still did very well with his soldiers. So great had his popularity grown that other company commanders in the Mannheim area, having heard of his reputation through their own troops, sought to invite him to visit with their own units in the hopes of giving their own lieutenants insight on how they might be better leaders. It wasn’t that their own lieutenants were particularly bad officers, rather Jaden’s leadership and care for his troops was something of a phenomenon and other officers wished to know what he did that made soldiers, some of whom didn’t even know him, regard him so well.

Soldiers always spoke about their leaders, and the fact that troops who hadn’t even met him believed him to be a leader to be emulated based on no more than hearsay from peers, certainly did speak volumes on the young lieutenant’s behalf.

Requests of visits by other units always placed him in an awkward position. Not that he particularly cared that Lieutenant Krappa could barely suffer his presence for no reason obvious to Jaden but he did not wish to give a wrong impression and further alienate others who might think that he believed himself to be above his peers. As far as he was concerned, he was merely being himself and being himself was what he’d fall back on so that he may excuse himself from having to oblige any such request. He hadn’t a strategy, the soldiers simply liked who he was, he’d explain. His personality wasn’t something that he could teach to others. Everybody had their own, he’d always say.

It wasn’t often that he ate at the dining facility but when he did, there was always a crowd about him made up of soldiers from his company as well as troops from other units on Coleman Barracks who just liked him; their only affiliation with Jaden being that some of them knew the lieutenant’s own troops.

Whereas this invoked even greater disdain from Lieutenant Krappa, it inspired even greater admiration in Captain Peterson. Unlike Krappa, Jaden never asked anything of his soldiers that he would not have done himself. Even when he needn’t be, he was always side by side with his soldiers when the day had to start earlier or end later than usual.

The lieutenant’s façade that all was well with him was, indeed, very believable but all the while, through all the praises and accolades, Jaden’s anguish over Melanie had continued to tear away at his soul. He could not let her go. Anguish over her sent him spiraling into an abyss not many can recover from without help. Jaden, however, wasn’t one to ask for help. And because he was meticulous in all that he did, no one could have ever discerned that his was a troubled soul. The destruction of his psyche, perhaps even his soul, seemed certain.

His drinking made it increasingly arduous to awake in the mornings; that he may offset this, he set up alarm clocks all over his apartment. Staggering the times they’d set off made certain that if he were to sleep through the initial few, one would eventually awaken him. This was his fail-safe method to ensure that he always rose with enough time to get cleaned and sobered up enough to keep the chaos within him well hidden.

That which he did first every evening after getting home was set all his alarm clocks to start going off at 3:30 in the morning; the task was then followed by drinking until he passed out.

He looked into his refrigerator one evening and became aware, for the first time, that he had more alcoholic beverages in there than anything else. He hadn’t noticed that his drinking had gradually but steadily increased over the past few months. He was unsure as to whether his depression had turned him into an alcoholic without him even realizing what had become of him. He didn’t believe that it had. How could he be an alcoholic when he could have dropped the habit whenever he wanted to? Or could he? His thoughts were as fog and he really wasn’t sure that he could. He chose to believe that he hadn’t become dependent.

As obvious as it was that he did have a problem, he was adamant about not acknowledging that it really did exist.

One evening, while sitting in bed watching television, he noticed that his bottle of vodka was empty. Intending to fetch something else to drink, he got out of bed, bottle clutched in his right hand, and started towards the kitchen. He staggered towards the living room; however, before he could even reach the bedroom door, he tripped over himself, falling face down. His nose was bleeding but he didn’t notice. He tried in vain to get up but his limbs seemed not to respond to his brain’s messages. A tear trickled down his face.

Now he remembered not only Melanie but also unpleasant memories of an unhappy childhood. He thought of his then manic-depressive mother and how her condition had been the reason for oft meaningless fights at home; how his father had always tried to help, being very patient and understanding. He thought of the then ever-present threat of divorce by his mother; he remembered how alone she had felt at times, and also the many separations which had forced him to spend time with relatives and all the planned family outings that had been disrupted even before the family had had a chance to set out. He also remembered the days his father had not a penny to his name, was drowning in debt, and could scarcely provide for the family. Such were the thoughts that overwhelmed him.

The knowledge that all was now well with his family offered him no comfort; his soul’s affliction was without cure, he believed. And falling in love with one he could never have had only worsened his lot.

“I cannot do this anymore!” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I may have suppressed my past and been able to convince the world that all is well but I know the truth, don’t I? I now drink that I may get through my days. I die slowly and that which I hold is the means,” he said, still trying but unable to even move enough to look at the empty bottle still held in his hand. “If You were real, my story would have been all too familiar as I am not the only one that has suffered misery. No! The world abounds with despair. DESPAIR!” he shouted.

“Though countless are its faces, it is always known when it presents itself,” he continued, addressing God not as a real being but rather as a created concept designed by a few that they may manipulate the many. “We come, we are, and then we pass. Nothing of us ever preceded our being nor shall anything follow our demise. There is no design. We are nothing more than a fleeting occurrence, with our beginning probably the result of the interaction and reaction of preexisting matter in the universe,” he said, trying to roll over, having realized that breathing was laborious. I am not among the lucky ones I guess, he thought. “It’s just you and me, vodka, until you grant me rest,” he murmured, managing to bring the bottle to his lips only to remember that it was empty.

He lost consciousness. And in his sleep he dreamt. He dreamt that someone, or rather a being, had heard his cry. He saw a light-like entity, which his senses couldn’t quite recognize, descend upon where he lay, take him in its arms and lay him upon his bed. Then the being hovered above him and whispered, “Your burdens shall pass; as they always have.” Behind the entity that spoke stood another, its appearance also beyond his comprehension.

Jaden slept through every alarm that had sounded in his apartment starting at 3:30 in the morning. He had also lost track of the days; fortunately the morning was that of a Saturday.

23

Dadya

A FEW WEEKS
AFTER CASSANDRA AND PHIL’S MEETING: Lydia turned off the hair dryer, believing that she had heard a sound. It was her cell phone which lay resting on the bathroom sink. She looked at it. It was Cassandra calling.

“Oops! I hope this hasn’t been ringing long,” she said, flipping the phone open. “Hey!”

“Goodness! What took you so long?” grumbled Cassandra.

“Sorry! I didn’t hear it. I had the hair dryer on,” she explained.

“Oh! Okay. Just calling to let you know that I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I’m sure. Why?”

“Don’t you think that you should at least let him know that I’ll be coming along? Who knows, he may have plans for just the both of you, and the last thing he’d expect is a third wheel making things awkward.”

“It’s okay. When I agreed to meet, I did tell him that you might be coming along; actually, the impression I really gave him was that you
would
be coming along”

“And what if I didn’t agree to come with?” Lydia asked, curious as to the answer.

“Then I would not have gone,” Cassandra said.

“Then don’t you think you probably should have asked me before committing yourself,” she asked, shaking her head disapprovingly while smiling.

“But I knew you’d say yes. That’s what we’ve always done. We’ve always said yes to each other, sweetie.”

“Always!” Lydia acknowledged. “Do you feel nervous yet?”

“Each time I’ve spoken with him over the past few weeks, I’ve felt a bit nervous, and now I really feel very nervous. I just hope that I don’t somehow embarrass myself when we see each other.”

“You won’t. You’ll be just fine. So what time do you think you’ll be here?”

“I’ve just pulled into the parking area. I’ll be up in a sec.”

“Okay.”

THEY
joined the bustle of downtown, spending a bit of time window shopping before strolling over to the Water Tower. It was a beautiful afternoon and the park teemed with the liveliness of children, adults, pets, butterflies, birds; life abounded in the mirthful atmosphere. To and fro they went about the park, wondering if they’d find somewhere they may sit. The weather was wonderful and so plentiful were those who visited the park that even the steps that led down to the park from the Water Tower were crowded as everyone sought a place from which they may enjoy the day.

“Oh my God!” Cassandra suddenly exclaimed.

“What is it?” Lydia asked, alarmed.

Cassandra realized that she had given Lydia a fright. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you. There he is,” she said, pointing to a couple of fellows seated on and leaning back against a bench, conversing. “I thought we had gotten here first but obviously he showed up even earlier.” She was still pointing.

Lydia looked in the direction indicated. “Okay, you can stop pointing now.”

Cassandra hadn’t realized that she still had her arm up.

“Which one is he?” Lydia asked after spotting them.

“He’s the one without a cap on. Oh my God! What am I going to do?” Cassandra asked, holding onto Lydia nervously.

“Well, that’s easy. You came here to meet him, right? So go over and say hi.”

“No, I can’t do that!”

“It’s okay to be nervous. You’ll be fine. He’s probably just as nervous, or will be as soon as he sees you. Come on, you said you’d meet him here and that’s what you’re going to do. Let’s go.” Lydia started forward but Cassandra held her back.

“It’s easy for you because you’re not in my shoes,” Cassandra pouted.

“Though true that may be, my dear, fact is, sooner or later you will have to face him, or whoever else it could have been, sweetie. Now come along, we’ll do this together. I know that it’s different now because, unlike your first meeting at the gas station, this one now has implications that had never crossed your mind. This meeting does kind of point to the intent of this being more than just friendship between you both. Trust me, you’ll be just fine,” Lydia assured her. “Besides, isn’t the pressure usually more on the guys than it is on the girls to make a good impression? As bad as this might sound for the empowerment of women, all we girls need do is simply just be girls, which can entail a lot, and carry ourselves well. Let the guy be the one to get nervous. Let him be the one worrying about saying something silly he might later kick himself in the butt for, wondering how he could have been so brainless, even if he may not have really been.”

“Okay. But let’s walk over very slowly.”

Lydia sighed as that made absolutely no sense for the meeting was to occur regardless of their pace but she did oblige her. “Okay, amor, we’ll take our time getting there.”

Because a great many people moved about the park walking, talking, pacing back and forth, sometimes standing beside where Jaden and Phil were sitting, neither one of them noticed the girls approaching.

“Hi, Phil,” Cassandra said, trying as best she could to calm her nerves.

Hearing the voice Jaden looked away from Sergeant Phil and turned his attention in the direction from which the voice had spoken. He looked upon Lydia and in that instant recalled what he believed was a dream he had had as a child in which a little girl had sat beside him upon his bed. She had taken him somewhere. A place he recalled seeing a lot of people, cars, buildings and… and the Water Tower. Also in that instant, Jaden was of the distinct impression that there was something very different about Lydia, and that somehow they knew each other. Though the thought would remain, the impression was, however, fleeting.

*

While
thoughts of dreams of yore preoccupied Jaden’s mind, a child, a little boy, along with his otherworldly companion, had come forth from whence unseen and had hovered above the Water Tower for but a short while bemused as to his purpose there before vanishing just as suddenly as he had appeared.

*

Phil
had also turned around, following Jaden’s lead, hoping it was she whom he awaited. “Hi, Cassandra!” he greeted her as he rose.

It was only then that Jaden noticed Cassandra.

“Hi,” she said again, shyly.

“It’s so nice to see you,” Phil said, his demeanor rather giddy. “Cassandra, this is Lieutenant Ramiel. Sir, this is Cassandra.”

“Hi, Lieutenant Ramiel.” Cassandra greeted Jaden a little less shyly.

“Hi, and call me Jaden. You’re not in the army,” he said, smiling. He then turned his attention to the sergeant and said, “Phil, relax, dude. We’re not on duty, no need to be so formal about things. Besides, with all the force protection they beat into our heads, if you go around introducing me as a lieutenant, you might make me a target for terrorism,” he said facetiously. He wasn’t in a warzone so couldn’t imagine what anyone would want with a lowly lieutenant assigned to a mundane position supervising mechanics; such were his thoughts always whenever the company commander discussed force protection as part of every weekend’s safety briefing prior to dismissing the troops. Besides, everything he knew was already public information, thanks to the internet.

“Roger, sir,” Phil said.

“Also, kill the “sir” while we’re off duty, especially out here.”

“Got it… dude!”

“That’s more like it,” said the Lieutenant. “And who, may I ask, do we have here?” Jaden said ever so politely, now again focusing on Lydia.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Cassandra said, seemingly just come out of a stupor. “Guys, this is Lydia.”

“Hi, Lydia,” Phil said, extending his hand to her; she reciprocated both greeting and gesture.

“Hello, Lydia. Nice to meet you,” Jaden said, smiling warmly.

“Heeellooo,” she said mellifluously.

Jaden looked at her as though one spellbound. He was reminded of something. Or was it perhaps someone he felt that he ought to know?

“Are you all right?” Lydia asked, Jaden’s mesmerized mien not unnoticed by her.

“You remind me of someone but of whom I’m not sure.”

She seemed fascinated by his words, almost as though one who bore like thoughts about him. “Really?” she said quizzically. “A nice person, I hope,” she said, smiling.

“Of course, my dear,” he said casually. “I only know good people. I just wish I knew who exactly it is that you remind me off.” He turned his head that he may face Cassandra; his eyes, though, lingered upon Lydia for a second or two longer. “So, Cassandra, I take it that you must be the girl that Phil’s been going on about all afternoon.”

She blushed.

Remembering his manners, Jaden offered, “Would you care to take a seat? With as many people here as there are, we may want to take our seats rather quickly before others do. Quite a crowd today,” he said as he looked about.

LATER:
“It’s getting late. I should be going,” Jaden said while looking at his watch.

“It’s only 19:45 and tomorrow’s Sunday,” Phil said.

“Yeah I know but I’ve a slight headache. I’d rather get back now than chance it getting any worse and driving when it’s darker,” Jaden explained.

“Okay.”

He turned his attention to the girls. “Ladies, it was a pleasure. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Likewise,” said Cassandra.

“Are you coming by the barracks tonight if you feel better? It’s been a while,” Phil asked.

“I doubt it. I’ll probably just have a quiet evening at home.”

“Roger that,” Phil acknowledged.

“Again, ladies, very nice meeting you,” Jaden said while getting up. “Phil, I’ll see you Monday.”

As Jaden walked towards the steps, he thought of the two couples he’d seen during his earlier visits to the tower; perhaps they were among the host gathered there with their families, enjoying an outing. He arrived at the top of the steps, walked over to the traffic light and waited for the pedestrian signal. His car was parked across the street, the parking meter had long since expired. He hoped he hadn’t been ticketed.

While still waiting for the pedestrian signal, he heard a voice call out to him. Reacting to the voice, he turned and saw Lydia coming up the steps. “Hey there! Que passa?” he inquired, having learned during the course of the afternoon that Spanish was one of Lydia’s four tongues.

Once caught up to him, she extended her arm and in her hand lay an object. “At some point while sitting back there, your keys must have fallen out of your pocket,” she said, offering them back.

He looked at the set of keys while feeling his pockets. They were, in fact, his. “Where were they lying?” he asked, grateful that she had found them.

“I noticed them lying on the grass beside where you sat.”

“The grass! That explains why I didn’t hear them fall. Thank you. It would have been interesting trying to get home without my car keys. Well… I suppose I could have hotwired the car if you hadn’t found them. It would have been hell, though, trying to silence the alarm. Thanks again, Lydia.”

“You’re very welcome. Tell me, what is it to hotwire a car?’’ she queried.

“Have you ever seen movies in which people break into cars meaning to steal them but because they don’t have the key they use certain wires to short-circuit the ignition?”

“Yes.”

“That’s hotwiring.”

“You know how to do that?” she asked, intrigued.

“Oh definitely. It’s a skill I picked up when I first started chopping cars,” he said casually.

“I’m sorry but I’m not at all certain what that is either,” she said, her perplexity quite obvious.

“It’s okay. I don’t suppose that that is the kind of stuff your English teachers would teach you, at least not in a proper classroom setting,” he said, smiling. “Chopping cars is when someone breaks apart stolen cars and sells its components as individual parts. Fun stuff, chopping cars!” he said, his facial expression that of one who reminisced on fond memories of times past.

She stared at him dumfounded, perhaps in shock.

“I was part of a very successful, albeit illegitimate, business until a judge told me to either join the Army or go to jail,” he continued. “Obviously you know what choice I made. Listen, if it’s something that you might find yourself interested in, or know anyone that might be, definitely let me know. I’m thinking about getting something going here in Germany. It
is
the home of well-known makes, after all. I could make quite a killing… not people,” he quickly added, considering the possibility that she may misinterpret that quite the wrong way. “What do you think?” he asked very nonchalantly. Jaden wasn’t sure if her face bespoke horror, shock or both.

She stood speechless and utterly appalled by Jaden’s past, his declared future, and his indifference with regards to criminal activity. Jaden stood silent for a few seconds watching her reaction before assuring her that he merely jested.

She was relieved. “Thank goodness!” she said, placing a hand over her heart. “I was beginning to wonder just what kind of person Cassandra was getting herself involved with.”

“Birds of a feather flock together, huh!” he said wryly.

“Yes, exactly. You couldn’t have said it any better,” she said, breathing normally again.

“Thanks again for the keys. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. Just be more careful. You might not be lucky if there is a next time.”

“You’re right. I’ll be more careful.”

“Goodnight,” she wished him.

“Goodnight.”

She turned to walk away but then stopped. Jaden was still watching her. She looked back at him and smiled. “You silly boy!” she said before starting off again.

He smiled. ‘Silly boy,’ he thought as he watched her walk away.
Just who does she remind me of?

Jaden crossed the street, hoping he hadn’t been ticketed. He hadn’t. About to unlock his car, he heard what sounded like the voice of a little girl calling out a name. It could not have been his attention that was being sought, he believed, for the name that had been called out was not his. Nevertheless, curious, he looked around him. A child was not to be found. Again he turned his attention to his car, pressing the unlock button on the remote. The doors unlocked just as the voice again called out the same name. Where was the child and who was it that was being called for? he wondered. There wasn’t a presence in his immediate vicinity yet the voice seemed to be coming from where he was parked. Jaden looked around him again but still failed to see anyone. Perplexed, he walked over to the other side of his car, wondering if perhaps the child was there. She had to be close. No sooner did he round the corner of his car than a cute little girl dressed in a pretty pink dress seemed to just appear out of nowhere.