I’ve Always Hated the Water

Note: I wrote this for a particular challenge, but I could not find the right conclusion for it, and it seems to be growing into something much bigger and bolder than I thought it could be. Any critiques or thoughts would be helpful...

*

Okay, I better talk about this while I have the chance.

My whole life had been on the farm, all landlocked and no oceans, seas, lakes, or even rivers nearby. And I thought that I would always just follow in my family’s footsteps; just another dirt farmer who just minded his own and kept to his lonesome.

And then, I got out of there and my life was over.

No, that won’t do. I can’t say that it is over. This is going to go on for as long as people remember what happened.

Just can’t let this…anyway, let me tell it.

*

Like I said, I was born on a farm. My daddy, and his daddy, and all our granddaddies did the same kind of tilling on dirt that we would have our children do. I was at an age when I could pick up a hammer, so my daddy figured I was old enough to do something on the farm. Fed animals, piled grain, put gear away and made sure no tools or animals went missing. Seemed like it would be easy enough.

And then we got us a war.

First I heard about us even having an army. Small country like this place and we are fighting out and around with other smaller places. So stupid, but I am not a politician with my brains in the back pocket (something my father would say). In the mail, I got a notice that I had to be in such and such a place and I went. What else can I say about that?

What else can I say?

Well, I decided not to go back to the farm right away. Maybe I thought that I had done some sort of duty and that I deserved to live a new life. My father still had my younger brothers, and even sisters, working with him. They could handle it all without me, but I would write when I could and explain what was happening.

I was going to cross the water!

Now, the government said that this was just because of the war, that we should not get too excited about traveling like that. I heard from a few of the guys that ended up at the induction centre that it was going to be a rough trip. I did not believe them, but I knew all about what they call “sea sickness” on the water. Really, I thought that it was something in the air that could get in your lungs, but I did not say it out loud.

I’d better talk about those guys. If I don’t, no one else will.

Gus, Steve, Roddy and Dan: I still think of them as one team. We were put into group of six – I’ll get to that later – because we could be in teams and learn how to help each other out when we got to the boats. I had Roddy. Dan and Gus were thrown together. And Steve… Well, like I said, I’ll get to it later. Won’t make much sense if I talk about it now.

So, we had our basic training (about six very tough months, but secretly I liked it), some elective classes on survival, technical equipment use and languages (I took all three and still remember a few words and how to survive in a desert or jungle; technical stuff might be a little tricky), and then, we were off.

Y’know, getting to the ships was the best part of the trip. That was a damn long journey and I finally got to know more about my team (all six of us).

“You think we’ll see the worst of it right away?”

Roddy was always worried about this. To be fair, it was on my mind, but I was trying to stay in my seat as the truck pitched and jumped over potholes on the barely finished road.

“Maybe… They said it was pretty bad.”

“They wouldn’t say it was good, would they?”

Well, screw you, Gus. Such a big guy, but such a coward and we could all see it. Surprised he did not wet the seat next to me.

“No, they wouldn’t, would they? Just let them…damn, can this guy drive straight?”

Dan made us all laugh a bit. Could feel the road under us as we were taking each wet corner after all that rain.

“We’ll get there. They’ll always make sure that we get there. Need us to fight.”

And Steve… Like I said, I would get to him, and I had better talk about him now. If I had to pick someone to fight with, it would be him. Tough guy, right? One of those people who only talks when he feels like he won’t be adding BS to the mix. Great for basic training and impressing the officers around us (drill instructor said he might make it to the top rank one day). That’s why we all stopped and heard what he had to say.

“Not lookin’ forward to the fight?” Gus was trying to provoke him; Roddy poked him in the ribs as he said it, but we were all thinking it

“Are you?”

“Sure, why not? What else have we got goin’ on?”

Steve just smiled for a bit. And then he said something that I never forgot. Still in my head…

“I’ll be stuck out there.”

Dan was the first one to figure out that we were all confused.

“What’s that even mean? ‘Stuck out there?’ We are all heading out to come back.”

“Right.” Even I had to say something. “We may actually get out of this in one piece. Even be heroes.”

And Steve still had that slight smile on him. I think that he wanted to talk. I think that there was something that he could not share with us on that truck with all of us staring at him and the trip we knew we had to take. We felt it stop, the officers’ yelling at their staff and the heard the plane buzzing and humming on the tarmac. Still, we all wondered what Steve was going to say.

I just wish I had figured it out before the truck stopped. Might have saved us a lot of pain and heartache.

Yeah, it just might have done all that.

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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