Falling for the Seat Filler

Nine

NINE: The contract

                M Y uniform consisted of a dark-blue coat, dark-blue trousers, a white turndown-collar shirt, a black necktie, the ceremonial belt and a dark blue service cap. It was my dress uniform – the one we wore to ceremonies. I had tucked my cap underneath my arm as I sat in a metallic seat and waited for my commanding officer. I had only been in the army for a little over two years, and had been awarded three ribbons, none of which I felt I really deserved.

Becoming a combat medic specialist was never part of my plan... it just happened.

10 weeks of basic training turned into another 16 weeks of advanced individual training, then I took a couple of tests, and then suddenly I was on active duty.

"Parker?"

I swallowed tightly, stood and offered my free hand. "Commander Sergeant Major Russell," I said with a smile.

He returned the smile. "Always so formal, Parker," he commented.

I shrugged. "You taught me how," I said, and he grinned again.

CSM John Russell had taught me everything I needed to know from loading a gun to removing a bullet. He was a tall man with greying hair and very dark grey eyes. He had terrified me when I had first enlisted purely because of how intimidating he looked. He was one of those men who didn't even flinch when a gun was fired. And he was the man who had saved my life.

He glanced at my ribbons. "How's therapy?" he asked.

"Fine," I answered, and he nodded his head.

Silently, he turned his head to a group of recently enlisted men. "Newbies, Parker. You would've enjoyed the show."

I laughed. "I still feel like one, to be honest."

Russell met my eyes again and briefly smiled before he cocked his head to the side. His sudden movement caused his medals and lines of ribbons to glint in the light.

"I'm surprised you came, Parker," he said as we began to walk.

I smiled faintly. "I am too."

"Have you visited Yorker's daughter?" he asked and pushed the door open into the Memorial Garden.

"Yes, weekly. I've grown attached to the kid," I said.

"And her mother?" he asked next.

"Not so fond of me," I said and sighed.

"I would've thought it would be the other way around," he admitted.

He led the way past intimate families with heads bowed, grey tombstones, statues and flowers and down a few stone steps. We came to a stop before a well-decorated grave with a teddy-bear and flowers.

"Me too," I murmured as I instantly saluted the grave before me as did Russell.

"Afternoon Buffer," I greeted and kneeled down before the grave. "I would've bought you a beer, but your wife already hates me."

Russell laughed quietly.

"Should tell him about your recent fame," Russell said.

I glanced up at him. "My daughter keeps me in the loop," he said with a shrug, then he took off his own cap.

I turned back to the gold letters on my best friend's tombstone. "You'd really like her, Buffer – and Noelle's in love with her already."