Running to the other side of the bunker, bullets blazing past my ears, I knelt down next to Jerrard. As his blood seeped through my fingers, I started to get fueled by anger and sadness. All my memories were slowly fading away. I could see Jerrard trying to speak, but the gunshots were too loud. All the yelling. The commands, my thoughts, too loud. I started to smell the blood as it mixed with the dampened earth beneath us. As I rose to my feet collecting myself, dogtag in my hand, I felt heat pulse through me as a hand wrapped around the back of my neck..
Ben woke up shuddering.
"What's wrong?" He could hear his wife from the bathroom with a worried tone, "It sounds like you're hard of breathing."
Ben took a second to collect his thoughts. His dream had been the same for a week, but he
couldn't grasp at what it meant.
"I'm fine, just a bad dream," he replied throwing the blanket back over his head.
"Honey, any more of these episodes, and you'll end up pulling your hair out," she said coming out of the bathroom.
Ben sat up on the bed and kissed his wife.
"Don't worry about me Kris, I'm not going to let a dream take my hair," giving her a goofy grin, she lightly pushed him out of bed.
"Don't be late to work."
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"Damn man, I couldn't say you're wrong."
"Who Would you be to say I'm wrong?"
"You're mom."
"Aye shut up man."
Ben finished up his lunch and looked over at the table next to his. He stifled a laugh.
"Look, I'd sure hope you're his mom, Juan! Plus, there's no way Pitts could drive a ball that far."
Pitts' and Juan's laughter rolled around the empty room.
Juan stood up with his lunch box, pushed in his chair, and threw his trash away. "I wouldn't want to be his mom," he left.
"Don't look so disembodied. Have you heard the news?" Pitts was looking Ben down with curious eyes.
Puzzled, Ben replied, "Yeah, but I don't talk about this stuff outside my home. You know that Andrew."
Andrew Pitts was his full name, but everybody just called him Pitts.
Andrew looked up at the ticket board waiting for his number to come up. "Well?"
Obviously asking Ben's opinion still, Ben sighed.
"Okay, I think Russia is down right playing their cards too sweetly. There's going to be a war, I just know it."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Just a hunch." With that, Ben got up, said bye, and walked out of the break room. On his way out, Jerrard, his good buddy was walking in. He stopped.
"What's up brother," Jerrard set down his lunch and shook Ben's hand.
"How are you Jerrard," Ben asked.
"Just tired. The kids were late to school this morning, so I'm hearing it from the old lady."
Ben laughed and sat down, lighting a cigarette. "Don't pay that much mind. How is Janelle by the way?"
"She's all good," Jerrard replied with his big smile. "How's Kris and the kids?"
"They're all doing good, thanks."
"Alright, well I'm clocked out, so I'm going to head home."
"See you Monday, Ben."
Ben set back out towards the parking lot. He was still thinking about his dream and the possible war with Russia. Did they tie together somehow? No, it wasn't possible, he thought. He popped his cigarette butt into the bag and sat through the rest of traffic.
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Ben and Kris walked into Shoney's and grabbed a table close to the back.
After Ben had got home from work, him and his wife decided to go on a date. They called up the babysitter and headed out as soon as she showed up.
"Don't forget we're just sharing. We have rent due in a week," Ben looked over at the salad bar. "What if we got the salad bar?"
"It's only fourteen ninety-nine," Kris got up with her plate while Ben sat and watched her purse. The television above the table had started to grow louder.
"'Don't forget the important. This may be a crisis, but remember this,' he wore a serious face, 'You are fighting for freedom. You are fighting for loved ones. YOU ARE FIGHTING FOR YOUR COUNTRY!' There is no doubt, this country is headed towards war. Families of lower incomes are told to be wary of money spent outside of the house. We will hold a draft signing in City Hall this weekend. Remember, stay sheltered and continue on with your daily lives."
"What's that all about," Ben heard a familiar voice behind him.
Surprised, he fumbled in his chair and spoke back, "How are you Jerrard? It was just news. Real or fake? Who knows."
"I'm good, just tired from digging."
"You still taking on that second job?"
"Yeah. I need to get up enough for Kayla's hospital bills," Jerrard looked up, tears glazing his eyes. "That isn't a matter right now though. What about the news?" His eyes now gleaming with curiosity.
"You're always so worried about the news," Ben said before adding, "pull up a chair."
Jerrard pulled up a chair as Kris made her way back to the table.
"The news ain't fake, Ben." He sipped his tea.
Kris set a plate down in front of Ben, "What did they say about a draft?"
"Draft?" Jerrard leaned in, intrigued at the mention of that word.
Ben looked up at the television, which had started to show Baseball.
"Apparently they're having a signing tomorrow at City Hall. I hope it's not a mandatory draft. I wouldn't be able to do it," he looked over at his wife, "especially now that I'm married."
Jerrard leaned back in his seat, stood up, and grabbed his drink.
"If that's all you're worried about, then I'ma go sign tomorrow," he glanced over his shoulder as he walked away. "Oh and also, don't let personal feelings get you in trouble. You know what they want."
Ben watched his foot fade as the door closed behind his friend.
They ate the rest of their meal in silence before paying and heading home.