Down the Street Part II  

rm_titsandtires 51M/41F
2973 posts
12/12/2005 9:20 pm

Last Read:
5/22/2008 7:47 pm

Down the Street Part II

Henry started into the doorway of the mini mart as he caught a glimpse of the dent in the phone booth. He smirked briefly to himself and thought "Still there." He remembered the day that he and Jake were goofing around in front of the store and mared the aluminum frame with his skateboard. "Don't do dat" screamed Mr Nguyen. "Dat not OK to do here."

Jake and Henry met on the first day of second grade, seventeen years ago. They didn't get along very well at first, but became good friends when Jakes family moved in to the three bedroom ranch just a few doors down from where Henry, his mother and two sisters lived since he was two. That and a common love for Star Wars collectibles made these two very close considering how different they were and would turn out to be.

Jake was a jock. He could play any sport well. He was the first picked on the playground whether the sport was baseball, football, soccer, whatever. Henry, the last in most cases. He was clumsy as a runner, threw like he had a broken arm, and as a result, didn't really like sports much at all. But he did go see alot of the games that Jake played in at high school and became as big a fan of Jakes as Jakes parents and siblings.

One of Henry's fondest memories of Jake was when the two of them, at about age eleven, went riding there bikes to the Greyson river to go fishing. Along the way, they happened upon a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest too early. It couldn't fly, and was in an area where he surely would have been some predators lunch in a hurry, but Jake wasn't going to let that happen. He scooped up the bird, and put it in his vest pocket. They turned around and went home so Jake could nurture this small helpless creature. "Don't tell anybody, they'll think I'm a wuss" said Jake. Henry still laughs to himself when thinking about it.

When Jake turned eighteen, just days before graduation from Brighton High, he started counting down the days until he left for basic training. He was looking forward to the experience, but at the same time, wanted to do alot of things before he went away for six months. He was looking forward to the thought of being in uniform. He remembered hearing his mother always say that she and his father got together because she was a "sucker for a man in uniform." His father was an Army supply sargeant during the Vietnam War. A bad foot bone alignment or something silly kept him out of any real battle situation. He was mostly someone who just loaded trucks. But Jake embraced the idea of esprit de corps, the valor, the glory, the comradery that went with military service. But the possibilities of where military service would take him hadn't really entered anyone's mind when he raised his hand and signed his named. He didn't expect that 9-11 was going to take his country to the place it did.

Jake came home from Iraq three days ago. Henry went to see him that afternoon, just hours after getting home. Jakes mom had told Henry ahead of time that he didn't look the same, or act the same. Jakes mom assured Henry that Jake would be his old self in a week or two, and that Henry should plan short visits with him until then. She saw him in the hospital several times on the east coast during his recovery. His injuries to his legs were still very evident in his walk. Notable too was the pain in his psyche that had made this strong, courageous young man into a mental mess. A very depressed human being that had been whittled from the frame of a smart young man who was a natural leader among his peers. Someone who had the world on a string just 32 months ago, now a shivering delusional statistic of a war that couldn't sleep at night unless he got so drunk he passed out. If he dozed off during the day, it would usually end abruptly with a violent outburst of throwing things and screaming. The sweat on his brow soaking his shirt. He usually wiped it on his sleeve while getting another beer from the fridge. And Jake never smoked before he went into the service. Now he smoked more than Henry.

"Pack of Marlboro, box." asked Henry.

"Tree-nynta fife" said Mr. Nguyen's son.

He handed him a five, threw the nickel in the share-a-penny ashtray on the counter, cluttered with knick-knacks and doo-dads. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes and started slapping them against his open palm to pack them as he turned towards the door. Following closely behind was Mr. Nguyen's son, keys in hand ready to lock up for the night.

As he opened the door, the wind caught his hood on his jacket, the cold biting down hard on his neck and down his back.

to be continued

DTduzDallas 50F

12/14/2005 11:55 am

This is awesome Tires. Give me a shout when you get the next installment completed. **hugs**

duststormdiva 51F
6854 posts
12/14/2005 7:15 pm

I can't wait to read the rest!


MamChelle 48F  
1443 posts
12/14/2005 9:09 pm

Damn this like coitus interuptis!! Okay so I shall be patient and wait on that next chapter, only cause I like the story and the author though! Lol

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