Excerpt: FIRST KISS: Mike Magee's Back-story

I gave her her first kiss.

It was innocent enough. She’d come home from being out with her friends at the mall, slamming the door on her way in and then doing the same to her bedroom door. Concerned, I walked over to her room and knocked softly. Hearing only sobs, I turned the knob and found her sprawled face-down on the bed, her body convulsing sporadically as she let out her grief.

“Janny-girl?” I called softly, sitting by the side of her bed. “What’s the matter, Princess?”

“GO AWAY!” she yelled, then pressed her face back into her pillow. Instead, I sat there, stroking her hair, marveling at it’s texture. She was a natural platinum blonde and had more curves than a girl her age should be allowed.

I said nothing and soon her sobbing stopped. The sunlight that filtered through her window began to fade. I knew I had a ton of schoolwork to do, but Janny was more important at this moment.

After awhile, her breathing became regular and I bent down to kiss the back of her head, figuring that she was asleep.

As I got up, she said, “Why are all boys such jerks?”

I stopped and asked,“What do you mean, Janny?”

The young girl slowly turned over on her bed and patted the empty spot next to her, so I sat down. She put one of her throw-pillows in my lap and laid there, so I began stroking her hair again, pulling the strands from her face which was damp from tears and sweat.

“Gary Carrolton,” she began. I could feel her body tense as the anger welled up once more.

“What about him?” I asked softly.

“He’s a jerk!” she growled, venomously.

“We’ve established that. What did he do?”

“He… he said… he told me…,” she stuttered, beginning to sob again.

“Told you what?” I asked, quietly and calmly.

“He said I was a lousy kisser!” she wailed, turning toward me and burying her face into my belly. I held her and let her cry some more. Jan shook silently against me as my hand caressed her hair and back. I let her work it out until she turned to get tissues. Janny sat up, blew her nose and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Go wash your face,” I told her, “then we’ll see if you’re a lousy kisser.”

“How are you going to do that?” she cried, defiantly.

“Just go wash your face, girl!” I commanded. Reluctantly, she got up and went down the hall to her bath.

It was June of 1969. Tom and Carla asked me to watch the house and their daughters. I’d broken my leg in a car accident on the way home from college over Memorial Day weekend and wasn’t able to work the construction job I’d lined up for the summer. Tom, my Uncle, owned the construction company, and told me that he’d give me their old VW to replace my car and pay me the same wages if I’d watch the house (and their two daughters) while he and his new (and third) wife, Carla spent the summer in Europe. Since I didn’t have many other choices, I agreed. If given the choice between construction and house-sitting next year, I would probably take the construction job. It’s… less complicated.

Janny came out of the bathroom and stood at the entrance to her room. I patted the bed next to me and she reluctantly came over and sat.

“What happened?” I asked.

Janny let out a long sigh. “After we went to the mall, Jenny, Melanie, Mary and I were sitting over at the shelter in the park behind school so that Mary could smoke a cigarette.” She looked up sharply at me. “You won’t tell Mom and Dad, will you?”

“No, it’s none of my business what that girl does,” I said to her, then added threateningly, “As long as YOU aren’t doing it!”

“Ewwww! No, I’m not! Smoking’s gross!”

“Anyway,” she continued, “these boys came up and asked Mar for a smoke. Then they started flirting with us and we found out they were Juniors at the high school.”

I nodded.

“Well, Mary and the guy that bummed her smokes began to make out. Mel and Jenny said they had to leave, as did all the other guys. I decided to stay and make sure that Mary didn’t get into trouble. After a bit, Gary Carrollton comes up and we find out that the guy kissing Mary is his cousin, Jeff Rheinbach. So Gary starts flirting with me and he’s like, really popular and I thought it was really cool that he even noticed me and stuff.

“He told me he always thought I was pretty and was being all nice and stuff. He put his arm around me and asked if he could have a kiss, so I gave him one.”

“And?” I asked after she’d paused for a bit.

“And he told me, ‘That’s not a kiss!’ and tried to pull me to him while trying to get his hand up my skirt!”

The room was now dark as twilight slowly shut out the evening. I could hear her sister watching her favorite DVD downstairs and knew I had to finish fixing dinner for them soon. Jenny shuddered and I put my arm around her to hold her.

“What happened next?” I prodded, suddenly very angry at this clumsy young kid for upsetting my step-niece.

“When he tried putting his hand up my legs and pulling me to him, I tried to push him away. His mouth came over mine and it was gross the way he tried to kiss me! I struggled and finally shoved him off of me, yelling and screaming at him until his cousin came over and told him to stop.”

“Well, at least his cousin had sense!”

“Yeah, well, he laughed at me and told me I was a lousy kisser and that he’d let all the guys know!”

“You’re right. He’s a jerk!”

“He sure is!”

I held her for a few more minutes and we sat in silence until Leslie called up, asking when we were going to eat.

“In a little bit!” I called down. It was cooking in the crock-pot, so I wasn’t too worried about it. I just had to make some rice to go with the curried beef I’d prepared.

“Mike?” queried Janny in her insecure, little-girl voice.

“Yes, Janny?”

“Would you… would you show… um… would you… you know… like… um… kiss me… and tell me… you know… if I’m… um… any good or not?”

“Janny, I…”

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have asked!” she said, huffing and getting up off the bed. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. This time, she sat on my lap.

I looked down at her for several moments and she did the same with me, her eyes searching; not fearful, but sad, wondering and searching.

“Show me how you kissed him the first time,” I said, breaking the tension.

Janny moved up to my face and gave me a peck on the lips. It was a very sisterly kind of kiss, quick and perfunctory.

“That was it?” I said.

Janny’s face fell and she wailed, “I am a lousy kisser!”

“NO! You are not!”

“You, you just said!” she replied, sobbing.

“No, I just asked if that was it.”

“Yes!” she spat, folding her arms over her chest and trying to turn away from me while sitting in my lap.

“Jan,” I called softly.”

“What!”

“Look at me for a moment, please?”

She pouted a little longer, then slowly turned.

“That is a kiss. It’s a good kiss that you’d give to a brother, your sister or your parents…”

“Okay,” she said, looking down.

“Do you want me to teach you how to kiss a guy?”

Janny looked up, an unbelieving and earnest look on her face.

“Yes,” she stated. “Would you really? Honestly?

I took her face in my hands and caressed her cheeks with my palms.

“Sometimes, you need to start out with someone a little older and more experienced,” I said. “Lots of my friends learned how to dance and to kiss from their older siblings. You’re the oldest and so you have to break new ground.”

Janny nodded.

“Please?” she asked. “Teach me?”

I smiled and pulled her face to mine. And kissed her.

Her lips were soft and pliant, pressing so tentatively against mine. I knew right away that this was a mistake and that there was more emotion behind this kiss than either of us realized. She was going to be a high school freshman in the fall and I, a college junior – if my draft deferment held up.

We broke the kiss when we heard Leslie at the bottom of the stairs calling out, “I’m HUNgry!” But this wasn’t just any kiss. I’d never been kissed like that before! It broke in a root-beer soda pop, burst-bubble, sweet and paplpable kind of break, releasing all that smoldering passion behind it so that it hung in the air in a way that you could taste and smell.

We both sat there for a moment, staring in disbelief at each other and wanting to do it again, but knowing her sister would be coming through the door in a second. It wasn’t until she took them away that I realized her arms had been around my neck. She got up and turned on her lamp.

“I’d better go start the rice,” I said, and left the room.

That night, after I read Leslie her bedtime story, I knocked on Janny’s door.

“Come on in,” her muted voice called back. I opened the door.

“All cleaned up? Teeth brushed and ready for bed?” I asked, stopping short.

She was on her bed, wearing one of my college tee-shirts, her long, tanned legs jutting out from beneath the hem. Janny was reading one of her mother’s romance novels and sipping on some water. As I walked in, she raised one leg until her foot was flat against the comforter, revealing most of her thigh. She did it in an unconsciously and innocently seductive sort of way, because there was nothing in her look or body language that told me she was trying to seduce me.

“I’ve just finished the chapter, she said softly.

“Okay. Lights out in five.”

“Mikey?” she called. I didn’t cringe for once – I hate being called Mikey. Hell, it was better than Mickey, which is what my last step-mother called me. She and dad were currently getting divorced – my father and uncle had never been very good at commitments or marriage as both of them divorced several times.

“Yes, Jan?” I replied.

“Kees me gooodnigh?!!” she quipped, quoting Topo Gigio the puppet mouse from the Ed Sullivan Show and putting her finger up to her mouth, giving me that shy-little-girl smile while twisting back and forth.

I smiled and walked over to her bed, bent down and hesitated. I was going to just give her a brotherly… erm… cousin-in-law-ly peck, but she put her arms around my neck and we kissed again. It wasn’t a French-kiss, it wasn’t anything really sexual, but it was sensual – filled with passion and electricity. It was one of those kisses shared by two people that love each other instantly and utterly, but are afraid of the sudden rush of feelings inside.

The kiss lasted almost a half-minute.

“Good night, Janny-girl,” I breathed.

“Good night, Mikey,” she breathed back. Her arms left my neck and she crawled under her covers, giving me a glimpse of her pantie-covered behind. Again, it was erotic and sensual, but not sexual in any raw, perverted or pre-planned sort of way. If anything, she was totally innocent of knowing she was the least bit enticing. I tried hard not to think about it. Especially since I hadn’t found many prospects for girlfriends at college. The women there were either girls from strict backgrounds that used college as an excuse to rebel against their parents, were easy, stuck up and shy or they were hippie-feminists that couldn’t decide whether they wanted to be treated like women or, well, they said “equal” but I saw it as “superior.” Either way, I hadn’t dated much because I just didn’t find anyone that I clicked with.

As I closed the door to her room, I turned and saw her smiling, with a far-off, dreamy look on her face. I have to be careful with this one! I said to myself. She had a crush and I’d have to be very careful not to hurt her.

The summer progressed in much the same way. Leslie was active in sports and I had to shuttle her around, usually dropping Janny and her friends off at the mall. There were several sleep-overs at the house because I didn’t mind them staying up late and giggling all night long, talking about boys and watching scary movies.

Calculus was kicking my butt, though. I don’t remember if I was too busy to ask for a tutor or too proud – probably both. Either way, I didn’t pass, so I couldn’t take Calc II for the second half of summer school. My deferment went out the window and I got my notice in mid-August.

They sent me off to the Army just as most of my friends were heading back to campus. Uncle Tom and Carla came back and I gave them the bad news. Tom, to his credit, tried to pull some strings, but came back empty-handed.

“That’s okay, Unk,” I told him when he expressed his apologies, “I don’t mind going.”

Janny-girl was more upset that I expected. She asked me to take her and her friends to see a movie at the drive-in. Tom and Carla were relieved. Mary was going to the movies with Jeff in his car and they wanted me to chapparone, as did Mary’s parents. I agreed, even though we were in separate cars.

It wasn’t Mary that anyone had to worry about, though. Jeff was a gentleman and they were actually interested in the movie. Janny-girl wasn’t. We sat in the back seat and watched for about 10 minutes before she crawled into my lap and kissed me hard and passionately. Then she opened her mouth and I felt her tongue snake against my lips. Reflexively, I opened my mouth and our tongues battled each other for a very long time.

Neither of us really did anything other than kiss and caress each other, but it was the most erotic, tender night of my life. We both fell in love in the back seat of that Beetle.

During the drive home, Jan held my hand and I kept stealing glances at her. Her long, platinum-blonde hair was parted in the middle and hung down to the middle of her back. She had put on some makeup and curled her lashes in a way that gave her the wide-eyed, Marsha Brady expression that was all the rage with girls that year.

“Do you really have to go into the Army?” she asked me after the song she sang long to on the radio ended.

“Yes, unfortunately,” I told her. “Just the reserves, though. I should be out in two years.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

I stopped at a red light and turned to her. “Janny-girl, you don’t have to do that. Don’t put your life on hold for me.”

“I want to, Mikey. I… I think I’m in love with you!”

Oh God! I thought. Conflicting emotions ran through my head. She’s too young! She doesn’t know what she’s saying!

I thought about it for a moment and the light turned green. She let go of my hand so I could shift and then took it again as we drove.

“Janny-girl,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully, “I love you a lot as well.” Damn it, that didn’t sound right! I was “in” love with her too… but she’s too young!

“Janny, don’t put your life on hold for me. You’ve a lot of fun and growing ahead of you.” I fumbled around, looking for the right words. “If a guy asks you out, go out with him. If you fall in love with someone else, it’s okay. Let me know and I’ll understand.”

I could see that she was tearing up. She pulled her hand away, grabbed a tissue out of her purse and looked out the window as we drove home. She didn’t say a word to me after that, not that night and not for the week leading up to my heading off to boot camp.

Tom and Carla took me out to dinner on my last night at home, treating me at one of the better steak houses. Tom and I sat up and talked a little, with him thanking me for all I’d done with the girls that summer.

“The girls really bonded with you, Mike,” he told me. “Especially Leslie.”

Leslie? I chuckled inwardly. All I’d ever done with the seven year old was to read her a story every night and take her out to the park during the day. Generally, she stayed at her friends house or was out in the back yard playing dolls with those same kids. I felt like I barely knew her and told Tom that.

“Well, she’s daddy’s little girl,” he said, meaning she had him firmly wrapped around her finger. “She told me she was upset that you were having to leave.”

“Well, she’s been no trouble at all.”

“Make sure you write to the both of them while you’re in boot camp, okay?”

“Sure, Tom. Not a problem.”

I felt like telling him about Janny and how fragile she was, emotionally, but I never found the right moment. I was also upset that she’d quit talking to me.

“Well,” said Tom, getting up out of his chair and stretching, “it’s time for bed. When do you catch the train up to the AFEES Station tomorrow?”

“I have to be up there at four,” I told him. “They want us to spend the night and then be at the Station for indoctrination at 7 am.

“Well, I don’t have to be up until 9 am,” he said. “I’ve a meeting with a contractor in the afternoon, so Carla will have to give you a ride to the station.” He held out his hand. “We’re proud of you, Mikey.”

“I know you are, Tom.”

”Your dad call you?”

“Yes. He’s in Switzerland, working on some sort of contract. He said he’ll try to make it home for Thanksgiving.”

My Uncle laughed. “I think he’s working on more than just a contract! Sandy’s has been trying to grab all his assets in the divorce, the skinny-assed little cunt!”

“I never really liked her,” I said, agreeing with him. “She was a gold-digger, for sure.”

“I agree. Why he hooked up with one of those feminist-types is beyond me. You know what started the whole divorce thing?”

“I think it was an argument they had over the War. He saw her on TV at some protest and chewed her out. She said he ‘didn’t own her’ and felt she could do what she wanted. That argument woke me up!”

Tom laughed. “Yeah, and you’re not the lightest sleeper in the world!” I laughed with him. That much was so very true!

“Anyway,” continued Tom, “He wanted me to tell you how proud we both are that you’re not trying to sneak up to Canada or anything.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Sir. But I would have preferred to follow in your footsteps and joined the Navy or like Dad and be in the Air Force.”

“I know. But we’re still proud of you.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and before I forget… If they offer you OCS – Officers Candidate School – take it. You’re too much of an independent spirit to work on an enlisted crew.” He smiled to soften the slight reprimand.

“I’ll keep that under advisement, Tom.”

We shook hands and then Tom surprised me by giving me a hug. I went upstairs and saw that the light was on in Janny’s room, tempted to pop my head in and tell her goodnight, but the light went out. Shrugging my shoulders, I walked down to my room, crawled into bed and listened to Tom and Carla make love for about a half-hour before the house went quiet. Janny’s room was next to mine and I heard her switch on her lamp again. She was a night-owl like me and would put on her headphones to listen to music when she couldn’t sleep. Unlike me, though, she was a morning person and would be the first one up.

This past week, she’d made herself breakfast and then left the house until early afternoon. I missed our breakfast chats and spending time with her. All I had to do was go over and apologize. For several nights, I’d dreamt that she’d come in here and kissed me, forgiving me

I was still upset that Jan wasn’t talking to me and uncertain about how to close the rift between the two of us. After tossing and turning for 20 minutes, I decided to go over to her room and talk. I was just reaching for the light when I heard a soft knock at my door. It opened and a soft voice called out.

It was Jan.

“Mikey?”

She didn’t wait, but opened the door and quickly shut it, then walked over to my bed. She stood there for a few moments, looking at me. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark whereas she’d just come from her room. I could see that she’d been crying.

“Mikey,” she said softly, “Like I’ve told you each night this past week, I’m so sorry I’ve been such a bitch.” I was about to tell her that she hadn’t been when she continued. “I know you’re asleep and you can’t hear me. I wish I had the nerve to say this to your face. Every morning, I tell myself that I’m going to get you alone and tell you everything in my heart, but I’m afraid that if I do, you’ll laugh at me for being a little girl and having a crush on you. I’m not and I don’t. I love you. I will wait for you. Please believe me!”

Then she lifted the covers and got into bed with me, holding me tight and continued whispering, “God, I am so glad you’re such a heavy sleeper! I’m going to miss laying next to you.”

Then she bent over my face and kissed me lovingly on the lips for a very long time before snuggling against my shoulder and falling asleep within moments.

I laid there, awake most of the night, watching her, wondering what she was doing here. When she turned over, she grabbed my arm and pulled it around her, my hand just below her budding breasts.

I was sweating and in a panic. If her father caught her in here with me, he’d probably shoot me, Uncle or not. But I smelled the sweet perfume in her hair, the warmth of her body next to me and listened to her heartbeat and knew I was in love as well.

Jan rose at 6 am and quietly slipped out of my bed, bent to give me one more lingering kiss. I’d been catnapping all night and her movement woke me. The kiss surprised me even more because she ran her hand through my long hair with a tenderness she’d never expressed before, whispering “I love you” once more before slipping off to her room. A few moments later, I heard the shower running.

I dozed off for a little bit and awoke about an hour later to the smell of bacon and eggs. I got up, pulled on some sweats and went downstairs. Jan and Leslie were in the kitchen with Carla.

“Mom?” said Jan.

“Yes, dear?”

“How did you and Tom know you were in love?”

Carla laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. It just seemed to happen.”

“How did you and Dad know you were in love?”

There was a wistful, hurt note in Carla’s voice. “I don’t know if we ever did know, dear. Now, what’s with all these questions? Are you trying to tell me you have a boyfriend?”

“No!” she said a bit too defensively, then she relented a bit. “There’s this boy I like, though I’m not sure if he feels the same way about me.”

”I’m sure he does, honey. Who is it, someone from your class?”

“N-no. He’s older.”

“Older?” Carla’s voice took on that worried, parental tone. “Just how much older?”

“A couple years,” replied Janny, non-committally.

“Like how much older,” asked her Mom, cautiously. “What grade is he in?”

“He’s going to be a… a… junior… this year,” replied Janny, hedging her reply.

Carla let out a sigh. “Honey, you have to be careful with older boys – especially boys that age. They’re all emotions and hormones. I should know! That’s the same age your father was when we first met.”

She softened the tone of her lecture. “Have you two gone out yet?”

”One date,” replied Janny, then quickly backpedaled when her mother began to object. “It wasn’t really a date either. We were with Mary and a couple other people.”

“Oh? And did Mike know about this ‘date?’”

“He… he was there. Chapparoning.”

“Really? Mike went with all of you?”

Janny, I thought, don’t dig yourself in too deep with your half-truths!

“Yes. He said it was a condition of allowing me to go out on the date.”

“He didn’t say anything to me about it!”

“I know, Mom. I asked him not to because I’m not sure about this guy yet.”

”Well, trust your gut instincts, dear. If you aren’t sure about this guy, then he’s probably not right for you! Now, I’m going to have to talk to Mike about this. I don’t like it when-,”

“Mom, no!”

“What?”

“Don’t talk to him about it. I made him swear not to tell you and I don’t want him to get into trouble with you for lying about it. Mrs. Madjewski asked him to go to keep an eye on Mary and Jeff. She fixed me up with the guy I was with and Mikey… Mike… sorta kept an eye on everything.”

“When was this?”

“A week ago, when we all went to the drive-in.”

“Ooooh… so that was the reason for the makeup!” Carla laughed and kissed her blushing daughter on the forehead. “I thought you were trying to look all grown-up for Mike.”

“Mom!” cried Janny, feigning disgust.

“Yeah,” cried Leslie, both women jumping after forgetting she was there. “Mikey’s mine!”

They all laughed, just as I made my entrance, faking sleepiness and grabbing for the coffee cups.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” called out Leslie.

“Hello, mop-top!” I called back, kissing her on the forehead. Leslie giggled and blushed, then gave her sister a smirking smile.

“Good morning Carla,” I said, giving my step-aunt a hug. Teasingly, she grabbed my butt and pulled me into her before planting a big kiss on my cheek. I tried to prevent my morning woodie from pressing into her but she pressed her thigh up against me.

“Ooooh… did Auntie do that?” she whispered in my ear. With a laugh, she let me go and then laughed again when she saw I was blushing furiously.

“Good morning, Janny,” I said, trying to appear less embarrassed than I was.

“Morn,” she mumbled, then began cleaning up.

“Jan,” I called, making her stop and look at me.

“Yes?”

“Before you head out today, I have some things I want to give to you and your sister.”

“What things?”

“Just come up to my room before you leave,” I said, pouring another cup of coffee.

“What time to you catch your train?” asked Carla.

“At 11,” I told her.

“Train? THAT’S TODAY?” cried Jan.

“Yes.”

Jan burst into tears and ran out of the kitchen. Leslie looked all sad and hurt.

“You’re leaving? Today?” she asked.

“Yes, mop-top.”

“How long will you be gone?”

I smiled and picked her up from the kitchen chair and sat her on my lap. “For about nine weeks,” I told her.

“How long is that?”

“I should be back for Thanksgiving.”

“When’s that?”

“A little after Halloween.”

Her eyes were as big as saucers as she tried to comprehend how long that was going to be. Then she threw her arms around me and began to cry, begging me not to go.

I held her and comforted her for a bit while Carla stood there, sipping her coffee and smiling through her own tears.

“Come on, mop-top,” I said, “Time for me to give you and your sister some things.”

Leslie crawled off my lap and held my hand as we walked up to my room. I knocked on Janny’s door and she told us she’d be “right there.”

I gave Leslie a copy of my high school senior picture and my AM radio – a new, FM/AM job with shortwave, along with an earhone. I also gave her a tape recorder I’d purchased to record my classes. Leslie had always been fascinated by it and loved listening to the playbacks. She squealed and put her arms around me, giving me a kiss, then ran out of the room (and past her smiling mother) to set things up in her room.

Janny slid past her mom halfway through and was a little upset that I’d given her little sister the coveted tape recorder.

“Come here, night-owl!” I said to Janny. She came and sat by me on the bed. I reached under and pulled out a box.

“This was mine in college,” I told her. “Dad and Sandy gave it to me as a graduation present. I won’t be able to use it, so I want you to have it.”

Janny gasped. “You’re giving me your AM/FM/shortwave radio?”

“Yes. And it’s stereo, too! Here’s the headphones.”

Jan threw her arms around me for a hug. “Oh, that’s wonderful!”

She ran out of the room with the box and Carla smiled.

“That was very nice of you, Mike.”

I shrugged. “I won’t be able to use them in boot camp and they’d probably get stolen anyway. At least they’ll get some use.”

Carla looked down the hall and saw that both girls were preoccupied in their rooms with their new gifts. Then she stepped inside and closed the door.

“I have something for you,” she said in a very sultry, seductive voice.

An hour later I left the shower, still somewhat in shock. While she wasn’t a relation and maybe only 10 years older, Carla was still technically my aunt. It was a helluva going away present from her.

* * * * *

I rode in the back seat of the station wagon, with Leslie and Janny on either side of me. We parted tearfully, with each girl promising to write me every day and everyone giving me kisses and hugs.

Carla looked a little shocked when Janny gave me my goodbye kiss, which was long and clingy, but then did the same to me, explaining to the girls as they left that this is how girls said goodbye to their soldier-boys. That caused Leslie to run back to me and give me a long, tearful kiss goodbye as well.

Bootcamp was tough, but I lived through it. I was offered OCS and signed up for it. Carla and the girls wrote me everyday (even though the “letters” from Leslie were usually only three or four sentences long). The letters from Janny were chatty, telling me all about what her and Mary Madjewski had been up to that week (the two of them had become inseperable according to Carla. She also wasn’t real happy with Mary’s boyfriend, thinking that the two were a “bad influence on Jan.”)

Carla’s letters were flirty and suggestive at times, but nothing outright was said about her final “goodbye” to me.

It was about the fourth week in when I got a letter from Jan, the envelope written in her handwriting, with little hearts dotting her “i’s” and with a light scent called “Charlie” that was popular that year.

Dear Mikey, she began.

I’m sorry I haven’t sent this letter off sooner, but I’ve rewritten it about a dozen times since you left. Heck, I’m still not sure I can send it too you because I’m afraid you’ll think of me as a silly high school freshman with an unrelenting crush on a college guy. But here goes anyway:

I’m sorry I was so mean to you. I told Mary about our drive home after we went to the movie that night and told her what you said. She saw it much differently than I did and explained that you were just trying to keep me from getting hurt. She said that you were being considerate and caring about being away for so long and that you were right. It would be a shame for me to miss out on all the high school stuff.

I can’t say whether or not I will date. Mary keeps trying to fix me up with guys, but I just can’t seem to get into them, you know? And, heaven knows, they don’t know how to kiss at all! (she put a little smiley face after this)

I miss you so much. You don’t know this (because you’re a damned heavy sleeper and snore like a saw mill! Giggle) but I (she scratched out three sentences here and rewrote them) would come into your room while you were asleep and just look at you and talk to you. I still don’t know how to put those same words into a letter, but I just want you to know that I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes!

There, I said it. I’d better get this into the mail before I lose my nerve (again)! I’ll try to “borrow” Tom’s camera and take some pictures for you soon, just as soon as I can get the money for the film and developing.

Take care of yourself for me. See you at Thanksgiving!

Always yours,

Jan

I found that I was crying at the end of that letter, causing one of the assholes in the company to begin making fun of me. He had a bloody nose and lip before they pulled me off of him, which earned us both some PT time.

They considered my application for OCS while I was in boot camp, asking me if I would be willing to finish my AA degree via correspondence courses. I agreed. Then they took us out to the firing range and that started a love-hate affair that lasted all during my life; I discovered how much I loved guns.

Up until that week, Sarge Dickens, our D.I., didn’t think much of me. Apparently I didn’t follow orders well and “had a wee problem with authority.” Dickens was a transplanted Irishman whose parents had moved to Chicago from County Sligo when he was 13. He’d been a troublemaker and involved in gangs until he got into big trouble about six years back and was given a choice between jail or military service.

“I knew which side me bread was buttered and opted for the bigger punishment!” he told us during orientation. He was a hard-assed son of a bitch, but you respected him.

According to the Sarge, I was a natural marksman. I hit within the quarter-sized bulls-eye on my very first six shots, impressing him. On the fifth week, we had a marksmanship competition between all the companies in the batallion. I took it, hands-down. Then I was set up to take on the batallion sharpshooters using a scope. Sargeant Dickens, my D.I., took me to his house that weekend to give me some pointers on scopes, since I’d never used them before. We then went to a private firing range that weekend (the Police range in a town where his brother was a cop). All he ever said was “Whew!” when we tried out various targets. Then he slapped me on the shoulder and said, “Mike, me boyo, you’re going to get a steak dinner from me and the Missus if ya win this contest!” I did and they did. It was right after that when I was given a series of tests. A week later, I was called into his office.

“Mikey,” he said, his west-country burr soft and formal, “have a seat, lad.”

“What’s the deal, Sarge? Am I in trouble or something?”

“No, it’s not that, lad,” he said, offering me a cigarette. I shook my head negative and he smiled. “Good boy. Tis a bad habit, smokes and drinkin’. You’d be best to avoid both. A third would be women, but I’ve wiffed your mail and you’ve got three lasses writin’ ya.”

He took a couple puffs before getting to the point. “I’m afraid I’ve got good news and bad for you,” he said. I waited. Dickens took three more puffs as he stared up at the fluorescent light fixture in the ceiling.

“The bad news is, they denied your going to OCS,” he breathed, letting out a cloud of smoke with the words.

“Shit!” I groused. I was really counting on it. I didn’t relish the idea of being a grunt and figured I was smart enough to get on someone’s staff. Hell, Tom and my Dad were already pulling strings with some staff officers they both knew in Washington.

“The good news is…” he said, taking another puff then blowing out the words again, “The good news is…” He frowned, reading the flimsy in his hand, “You’re being assigned to a special unit after graduation from boot camp. I’d almost say that you were going to special forces or the Green Beret’s, but I’m not privy to that information… just yet.”

My eyebrow shot up. “Oh?”

He smiled. “Casey Dickens has more than one trick up his sleeve when someone tries to adopt one of his fir bolgs!”

“Fear what?”

“Oh, Michael, Michael, Michael! Yer mean ta say you claim the blood of Eire and ye don’t know what a Fir Bolg be?” He shook his head. “Tis a sad, sad thing they don’t teach the young ones about their heritage! Go to the library and look it up!” He called for the corporal and shuffled papers; his way of dismissing you. Something inside me said he knew more than he was letting on.