Page 1 of A Mountain to Climb

CHAPTER ONE

JETHRO

It’s a toss-up. I’m not really sure how I’m feeling just yet. I’ve been back on American soil for a total of seven minutes, and I don’t know if I’m happy or not.

What happened back there, in the Persian Gulf, is definitely going to be with me for the rest of my life. I was fortunate enough to walk off that ship, but several of my fellow sailors weren’t so lucky.

My bunkmate, Mike Connors, for one. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could’ve been me, but for some unknown reason, it wasn’t. His family will be one of many who welcome their service member home inside a pine box. And you want to know what they get for that? A folded-up flag and twenty-one-gun salute. There won’t be parades, or parties, or hugs from their babies. His wife and newborn daughter are now alone.

And where am I, you ask? I’m standing here, in Washington, D.C., watching Mike’s body being loaded onto another plane. I have no plans for the rest of the night other than a hot shower and a few cold beers.

“Hill.” I turn and see our unit chaplain walking toward me. He makes his way across the tarmac and I’m completely clueless as to what he needs from me. I spent many days and nights talking to him about our lives back home, but as soon as we got off the plane, I figured he’d be doing his chaplain duties and not looking for me.

Chaplain Malcom King is one tough son of a bitch. He looks nothing like you’d imagine a man of the cloth would. He’s the definition of a walking, talking grizzly bear with buzzed black hair, tan skin, and a permanent scowl on his face. And he doesn’t even wear a cross or carry a bible.

“What’s up, Father?” I try to say with a serious face, holding out my hand to shake.

“Knock it off with that Father shit, Hill.” Malcolm grabs my hand and drags me in for a giant bear hug. He pulls back and the scowl he had on his face for thirty seconds is gone. His blank, straight, no nonsense expression is back in full force.

“Something wrong?”

“I’m gonna need you to come with me to the Commander’s office before you leave.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder and I look to see a Jeep waiting for us.

“Any idea what for?” I don’t think I did anything wrong. I hope not, at least. I only have about a month left before my time in the Navy is done. I’ve served eight years and am ready to get back home.

“Yea, but I’m under orders not to tell you ’til we get inside. Commander’s orders.”

I pick up my duffel bag and follow Malcolm to the Jeep. I try to get a read on what this could be about, but his face shows me nothing. I toss the duffel into the back, hop in the passenger seat, and before I can buckle my seat belt, we’re flying through the parking lot.

“Whoa! Slow down, speed racer. We just got home. Don’t need to be rolling this thing over!” I laugh as we barrel around a corner.

“Dude, I’m gonna be honest with you. I can’t fucking wait to get back on my Harley. It’s been way too damn long since I’ve ridden her.”

“I’ve been thinking about getting one myself.”

That gets an eyebrow response from Malcolm. “No shit?”

“Yup. With my time being about up, I could use a little reward.”

I hear him mumble something but can’t make it out over the wind blowing around us. I’m about to ask what he said when we come to an abrupt stop. He throws the Jeep in park and jumps out.

I follow him onto the sidewalk, but before we get very far, Malcolm spins around and I almost collide with him. I catch my footing and take a step back. “Let’s head inside. Then you can start making decisions about what you’re going to do next.”

“Yes, sir.” I throw a half-ass salute at him and pull the office building’s door open, not caring if it shuts before he follows. What a jackass. Someone needs to fill me in on what the fuck is happening.

“Hill!” I’m really getting sick of my name being yelled out today.

“Commander.” I drop my duffel and snap to attention, giving him a proper salute. He’s not one to mess around with. He holds the pen that’s going to be signing my discharge papers.

“At ease, Hill. Follow me.” I pick up my bag again, for the twentieth time, and follow him down the hall. I notice Malcolm following a few steps behind but continue to ignore his presence. The door shuts behind me and I’m now trapped in an office with two stoic men. Neither is saying a word and my fuse has about hit its end.

Not caring that I’m in direct violation of about a dozen military rules, I drop down into the chair in front of the Commander’s large desk. “Anyone gonna tell me why I’m here? Or should I start guessing?”

The Commander drops into his own chair and folds his hands on the desktop. “Son. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just spit it out.”

I look back at Malcolm and he just dips his head at me. “What is it?’

“You’re going home tomorrow.”

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