10 Heroes
We paused briefly at the monument to Sergeant Floyd, the only man from the Lewis and Clark expedition to die during the two-year wilderness trek. His death touched me because his companions knew he was sick, and he realized he was dying, but there was nothing to be done. Doctors now believe he had an infected appendix. Back then, medical science was too primitive to make the diagnosis and remove the organ.
His body has been buried three times since his death. That is an incredible effort to preserve the memory of a minor historical figure killed by an appendage with no known value. It is his courage in the face of death that moves us.
The monument reminded me of the Vietnam War Memorial and all the thousands of Americans who visit it every year. The Wall symbolizes a heroic defense of our way of life. At least that’s how it’s marketed. Most of the pilgrims have no idea what happened over there. People died. Many heroically. I know of at least one suicide. One man died in an industrial accident when the steel beam he was unloading from a truck brushed up against a power line. There are many stories of men and officers being “fragged” by soldiers who had it in for them. I came close to dying in a traffic accident. Our convoy was ambushed, so we floored it to get out of the kill zone. A Vietnamese Lambretta, a super-sized golf cart, pulled across the road in front of me. I hit the brakes, buying enough time to swerve around behind it. If I had hit that sucker, the deuce-and-a-half behind me would have crushed me and my jeep.
I visited The Wall once. The men whose names are memorialized on it will be in my heart until my dying day. But the Vietnam War was a disaster. LBJ should have pulled out after the inauguration in January ’65. Instead, he sent millions of fine young men over there to show Ho Chi Minh what it means to take on America’s might. Ten years later, America pulled out with its tail between its legs.
I must have been in some mood as I turned to leave. Kate caught me and folded her arms around me. She pulled my cheek into hers and held tight while letting me savor her soft, warm skin and the delicious scent of her Eau de cologne.
##
She drove to Vermillion, South Dakota, near The Spirit Mound National Prairie. As soon as we were situated in an RV park, we got out and walked around to stretch our legs. Kate asked, “What did you think of Call of the Wild?”
“Not much of a story, but the author certainly made it exciting. Lots of action.”
“I liked it.”
I nodded. “I didn’t dislike it, but I didn’t need all the violence. The ending was nice with Old Buck leading the wolf pack and having his way with all the she-wolves.”
“You’re jealous of Buck?”
“You’re damn right. Why not?”
“He’s stuck in a harsh, dangerous life. He has to hunt his food and fight his rivals. What’s the attraction?”
“That’s what wolves do. They’ve lived that way for forty million years. Buck gets to hunt and fight and, pardon my French, fuck?”
“Would you really like to live that way?”
“I couldn’t now. I believe I might have in my prime. That’s how my ancestors lived.”
Kate smiled skeptically. “That was a long time ago.”
“Probably not as long ago as you imagine. Native Americans were living like that when the Pilgrims arrived on this continent.”
“But you’ve never actually done it.”
“I was trained in the Infantry. We spent a lot of time on field exercises. I like that part of it.”
“What happened?”
“I ended up in an Engineering battalion when I got to Nam. The Major needed a driver. I got the job. My responsibilities were to chauffeur him around and take care of the equipment.”
“That doesn’t sound bad.”
“It wasn’t, given that I had to spend a year over there fighting a war that I knew was stupid and immoral.”
“Otherwise, you might have made it a career?”
“I could very well have made a career of the Army if the circumstances had been right?”
“Because of the killing or the sex?”
“The sex is an important consideration.” I rubbed my chin. “The killing doesn’t appeal to me. It’s the danger and the challenges.”
We stopped at a picnic table a few yards from our campsite. Kate said, “Hold that thought. I’m going to get us some dinner.”
I sat watching the sun set. It was like a candle burning out. Night creatures emerged as daylight faded to darkness. Crickets chirped. Bugs took to the air. A few bats flitted around, feasting on them. Lightening bugs blinked on and off as they went about their business. The stars were beginning to shine. Later on, I would be able to find the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, and the North Star.
Kate returned with two plates. Hot dogs and beans. And a couple of beers. The food went fast. We lingered over the beers. Without preliminaries, she asked, “When did you and Anne stop having sex?”
“Ten or twelve years ago.”
“You were still pretty young. What happened?”
“I got a neck injury – a ruptured disk. I had to sleep sitting up for several weeks. When I started sleeping with her again, sex was a chore.”
“You or her?”
“She was tense and fought me. I think she was afraid it was going to hurt. When I did get in, I worked hard, but nothing happened. It was too much for both of us, so I gave up.”
She fixed me with that laser stare. “Are you capable of consummating sex?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“When was the last time?”
“Seven weeks ago.”
“You met someone after Anne’s death?”
“Two someones, actually.”
“What happened seven weeks ago?”
“Marie Johnson pushed me to get started on the chemo. We had sex a couple of times before the treatments began. She broke up with me when I told her I wasn’t going to continue with the chemo.”
“And that’s when you decided on this trip.”
I shook my head. “I had decided on the trip before I completed the chemo cycle. I wanted her to come along with me.”
##
We sat while the world around us darkened, and glittering stars filled the sky. The moon was bright, and the night creatures made a pleasant cacophony. When I spotted the big dipper, I tapped Kate on the shoulder and pointed. She nodded. “I see it.”
I said, “I suppose we should go inside.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Time to put you to bed.”
We carried our stuff into the camper. Kate started rinsing dishes in the sink. The kitchenette created a bottleneck that was barely wide enough for two people. When I tried to squeeze through, I found myself pinned between her rear end and the wall. I paused with her butt pressing against my crotch. As I stood there, she turned and kissed me on the lips. Her arms wrapped around my neck. I grabbed her butt and pulled her close. My cock stiffened. I could feel her clit through my jeans.
Her mouth opened, and my tongue slid against hers. She reached down and stroked the bulge in my pants. Kisses on her neck, shoulder, and chest were rewarded with soft moans. I turned her around. She leaned over, hands on the edge of the sink, and waited patiently while I pulled her pants down. Pushing up inside her brought back the old feelings, but getting from almost there to a small climax took forever. When I was done, I pulled back. She turned around and hugged me. We danced over to the sofa in a clumsy two-step and fell in a heap. “I’m sorry that was such an ordeal,” I muttered.
She stroked my cheek. “I’ve got no complaints.”
I passed out quickly and woke around three. Kate was sleeping next to me with one arm, and a leg draped across my body. I tried to work free, so I could get to the bathroom. She woke up, smiled, and crawled over me. I got to my feet and trudged off to the bathroom. By the time I finished, she had pulled the bed down and lay there waiting for me. Her sleeping bag was rolled up at the foot of the bed.