Page 56 of Sol
“He was a character. He didn’t get in trouble, since everyone liked him. But he always was pulling some stunt. Like getting everyone together to play Frisbee golf or have pokertournaments.”
Her eyes shone, and she picked up herfork.
After dinner, we got up and cleared the table. I washed the dishes and she dried, which jogged another memory. “Degan always got stuck on KPduty.”
“Kitchen Patrol? Hedid?”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “Sometimes he’d volunteer, just so he could hang out with the cooks and grab some cereal forlater.”
“That sounds like him.” She caught my eye, wistfully. “I still can’t believe he’s gone. I misshim.”
“I do, too.Constantly.”
I handed her a glass, and she dried it and put it away. With her back turned, I saw that she was wiping a tear. Quickly toweling off my hands, I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, nuzzling herneck.
“I think he’s always gonna be withus.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, then turned around and gave me ahug.
We stayed in the kitchen for a long time, with our arms wrapped around each other, notmoving.
Once we finished the dishes, she lit a candle and incense, then turned on the television and started flipping channels. The smoky scent felt like her. “What do you want towatch?”
“I have no idea what kind of TV there is inSpain.”
“Umm,” she mused, as she flipped through. “The Simpsonsin Spanish. Some weird old Western movie. The news. A sitcom. And oh! This one. Wehaveto watchit!”
“Which?”
“This French movie.Amélie.”
“I’m voting forcartoons.”
“ButAmélieis my favoritemovie!”
Like I cared what we watched. “Fine,babe.”
I lay on the couch, and after a tentative second, she curled up in front of me, both of our heads on the same cushion. I played with her bare shoulder while she watched themovie.
Since it was in French with Spanish subtitles, I was totallylost.
Before I knew it, filled up with a good dinner, a few glasses of wine, and still jet lagged, nestled with this tiny beauty on her couch, I fell asleep while the movie played in the darkenedroom.
* * *
The bladesof the Chinook helicopter whipped overhead. We needed to get a move-on.
“Just a few more,” Degansaid.
The interpreter said something to the group of five or six Afghan men waiting off to the side. The body language of two or three of the men made me nervous. They were glancing around, fidgety, expectingsomething.
But my unit had already done an anti-IED sweep before we gothere.
Today we worked in this little village, high in the shrubby, remote mountains of the Korengal Valley. While it was May, there was a still a bite in the air. Our job was to register every male and take theirbiometrics.
“Let’s get these guys done and go back,” Imuttered.
Sunglasses covered Degan’s big blue eyes, but that smile was unmistakable. “What are you gonna do when we get backhome?”
