The Traject Ch. 03

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Remains at rest or continues to move at a constant velocity.
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 04/29/2016
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aka_Mike
aka_Mike
501 Followers

Author's Note: Here is the latest part of the Life of D, again this part narrates the in between times as the character tries to adjust to life after so much violence. There has always been a question asked by philosophers throughout the time that addresses the men of war, can a man that has seen so much violence ever truly walk away from it?

While the stories can give the sense that they happened one after another, the fact is that each of these took months between encounters. This part of the stories might cause the ire of some of the readers because of the lack of sexually graphic scenes, but they are important in establishing the background of the character for the later chapters. Just like the previous chapter, this one might set some triggers for people, so read at your own risk.

I hope you enjoy it, and like always please rate, and comment something constructive. I tend to ignore the angry, nonsensical comments, but those comments, both positive and especially negative, that provide some substance are dully noted. Thank you all.

Much love,

aka_Mike


...

Christina's Canticle

Arizona. To say that this place was hot would be the greatest understatement of the century. It was a true vestige of man's arrogance: building cities in a place that was hotter than the sun. But a job is a job, and this was an opportunity to make a living without having to take a life or without risk of having my life taken. Granted, it was not as good a paycheck but it was still a great paycheck for the amount of work. As soon as I walked into the little town, with nothing but the few belongings that filled my Jeep, I realized that my life had taken a turn. I still wasn't sure if it was for the better or for the worse, but it was a turn nonetheless.

I managed to land an apartment in some shitty complex, it was the first one I had found that had any available places so there was not much I could do to complain about it. I needed to get my things ready for the following day, this would be my first government job as a civilian and I honestly had no clue what to expect. A restless night filled with thoughts of my girls, Martha and Rebecca, and a growing tightness in my pants made sure that I got few hours of sleep that night.

"Hi," the short, redhead said as I walked into the building, this is where I would spend the next week doing class after class, death by power point. One after another, click after click, droning voice after droning voice the days came and went before I met my supervisor. She was... interesting to say the least: wrinkled uniform, hair out of regulation, nails colored in an unauthorized shine, and when she spoke whatever façade of professionalism completely disappeared.

"Oh damn, it's one hot day today, I should'veaxedsomeone else to come down here, I'm missing some great air conditioning. Ya'll D..."

"Yes," I interrupted, "just D, Sergeant Bell. Nice to meet you," I said as I extended my hand, a frail and soft hand took it and made the slightest attempt to shake it.

"Let's get you settled," she replied, "I read your resume, you got some great experience, you're gonna hit the ground running. Got some SOPs that need work in the clinic, and I think you're the person to get it done."

"I didn't realize that would be part of my duties," I replied.

"Normally it wouldn't," she said as she walked away, "but you seem to be good at it from what your resume said, that would be a great help to me. I'll see you at the clinic, Mr. D." With that she walked away, I had no idea which clinic she was referring to, where I would be working, and exactly when I should be there. I had just met my boss, and already she had annoyed me, this was not going to be an easy transition.

Eventually I found my work station, by found I mean I was walking around the hospital looking as lost as a pup when a staffer took mercy on me and walked me to my clinic, of course my boss was out in a meeting when I made it in. Another clinic person introduced me to everyone in the clinic, showed me where my desk would be, and gave me a list of important phone numbers that I would need to know. I sat in my desk, literally sat there. When closing time came around, I got up and walked out with everyone. I kept this routine for three days before someone noticed that I was just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing but staring into the walls.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Head, a retired Colonel asked me. He was older, much older than me, in fact not only was he retired as a Colonel, but he was nearing the time when he would retire from civil service.

"Sitting here," I replied, "waiting for my first line to give me some instructions. How are you, Mr. Head?"

"Well," he said, "it was a somewhat boring morning until just about now. Is this what you have been doing these past days?"

"Pretty much," I replied with a smirk, "I don't have access to the network, I don't have the email set, hell I don't even have my hospital identification card because my first line has to sign for all of that. And honestly, if I leave this clinic I would probably get lost."

"Well," Mr. Head replied with a bellowing laugh, "I don't blame you one bit, but if you're really going to wait until she gets her head out of her ass, you might as well wait in a place where you'll be comfortable. You're a smoker, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come on," he said, again laughing, "let's go show you where the real business is completed." We walked together to the back of the hospital and found the smoker's shack, it had a roof overhead and a few tables. But in that little area were sitting and standing about 18 people, all talking loudly and laughing. As we walked in, Mr. Head did not waste any time introducing me and telling everyone about what I had been doing the past few days. The laughter became much louder, a few hands patted me in the back and few others just shook their heads in complete solidarity.

"Don't hold your breath," one said.

"I wonder how long you'll be able to get away with it" someone else said.

"I'm surprised they haven't noticed" a third one said. All comments were like this, more and more laughter joined as more people came outside as smokers who had just finished their break went back and spread the story. Friday morning came too soon and the adventure had to come to an end.

I was again sitting in my desk, simply staring into the wall and floor. I could hear Mr. Head's laughter every time he walked by and the other clinic personnel soon would join with a smirk or a giggle. It was that fateful Friday when I met the Hospital Commander and the Human Resources Chief

"Who are you?" Colonel Moran looked me up and down, instinctively I stood up at the position of attention as an officer spoke to me.

"Sir," I began, "I am the new Medical Support Assistant for the Clinic," I replied, still fully in the military mindset.

"Where is your badge?" The HR person asked.

"I have not been issued one yet, sir," I replied.

"Wait," the HR person said, "you're the new hire from Monday?" I nodded, "where's your supervisor?"

"I think she's in a meeting," I replied.

"What time did this meeting began?" His look told me that he was unaware of any meeting taking place.

"I think the meeting started Monday afternoon," I replied, "that was the last time I saw her."

"You can't be here without a badge," the Commander said, "go home, we'll make sure there is someone here to meet you on Monday morning to get your badge." He extended his hand, "welcome aboard, I do apologize for the shit reception you have experienced. We will make sure that this does not happen again with the future hires. Enjoy your afternoon." With that the two men walked away, clearly displeased with the turn of events. It was going to be a painful afternoon for Sergeant Bell.

That weekend I learned two things that made my first weeks in Arizona passable: alcohol is relatively cheap and that redhead was one of my neighbors. As soon as she saw me carrying the few groceries up the stairs and into my room, she couldn't contain her loudness.

"Hey, you," she screamed in a bubbly voice as she rushed toward me, "you just inprocessed, didn't you?" I nodded, "oh you probably don't remember me."

"I remember you," I said as I fished my keys out of my pocket and moved to unlock the door, "I didn't realize that you lived here as well."

"Yes, I live a few doors down from you, I guess," she beamed as she smiled, when she saw me moving into my apartment she started heading back to her own.

"Aren't you coming in?" My question stopped her in her tracks, clearly she was not expecting this question.

"I," she stammered.

"I understand," I replied, "you must be really busy. Maybe some other time," I said as I moved to close the door.

"Oh yeah, so busy," her voice dripped with sarcasm, "a glass of wine, a can of tuna, and some reruns in the tv. They make movies from my life." I smiled at that, she took that as a sign to walk into my place.

"I'm D," I said as I placed the bags in the counter and began to put things away, "make yourself comfortable, please."

"Thank you," she said as she closed my door, "I'm Christina, its very nice to meet you, D." Is that short for David?"

"No," I replied as I reached into one of the cupboards and pulled a wine glass. "Not David," I poured a glass of red wine for her as I grabbed a glass with ice and poured vodka into it. "Damian."

"You definitely look like a David," she grinned as she took the glass, "you live here by yourself?"

"Yes," I replied as I sat in the couch across from her, "its not much but its comfortable, and I guess it comes with great neighbors." I raised my glass to her as she blushed slightly. "What did you mean by what you said? You don't have any plans tonight?"

"No," she replied, "the places in this town are not the best to go as a single woman, and they're even worse if you're going alone. What about you?"

"Well," I replied, "I'm hoping I'll have a dinner companion as a matter of fact," I took a long drink from the glass as she looked at me with confusion.

"Oh," she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was interrupting..." she saw that her lipstick had stained the glass she was drinking from, "oh no, I'm so sorry, I don't want your date to think that..."

"Chris," I said as I tried to control my laughter, "I was hoping you would join me for dinner." Her silence made me think that maybe I had been wrong about the situation.

"I need to go home," she said, as she saw the look in my face she quickly clarified, "I need to feed my cat and get cleaned up. Can I come back in about an hour?"

"Sure," I said, suddenly laughing at the situation, when did it become so hard to ask a woman for dinner? "I'll leave the door unlocked, just knock before you come in."

An hour later there was a soft knock on the door before it was opened. Before she had started walking into my apartment, I had placed the Smith and Wesson 40 caliber pistol into one of the drawers. She looked at me with a huge smile, raised the bottle of wine she had brought with her and made her way toward the kitchen.

"I was expecting some steaks or some sandwiches," she said with a giggle as she saw what I was making: southern style fried chicken breasts, steamed green beans, red potatoes with rosemary and basil, and sautéed mushrooms. The baby spinach salad with shredded carrot and pecans with raspberry vinaigrette was already prepared.

"Sorry to disappoint," I replied, "the wine opener is in the sink, you know where the wine glasses are, Chris. Help yourself."

"Oh its not a disappointment," she said as the wine bottle was opened, "last date I went to the guy tried to make some fish recipe he had read online, we ended up eating bologna sandwiches."

I purposely ignored her date comment, "there's nothing wrong with fried bologna," I said, "in fact its one of my guilty pleasures." She made a fake gagging noise as I finished my statement.

"I don't know how you can eat the stuff," she replied, "but to each his own I guess."

"Such a little hater," I said, "here, taste this" I used a spoon to grab some of the sautéed mushroom sauce, gently blew on the spoon to cool the liquid down before offering it to Christina.

"That's delicious," she replied, "I don't think I've ever tasted anything this good. Damn, a man that can cook." My face made a micro gesture that I hoped she had not seen, I was wrong.

"Is it that difficult to believe that a guy can cook?" I was trying to move the conversation away from having to explain the situation.

"Again," she replied with a laugh, "bologna sandwiches." We shared a laugh that I interrupted by giving her directions to start setting the table and serving the salad. In a few minutes, we were enjoying a glass of wine and a well-made dinner, if I say so myself. After eating, we just talked about everything, she had a great laugh when I told her of the events that had taken place during the past week, I learned quite a lot about her.

Christina was divorced, her husband had gotten extremely drunk one night while they were out with friends, he felt that she was flirting with one of his friends, and that night he decided that she needed to be punished. After he was done beating her, he raped her continuously throughout the night, he took her vaginally, anally, and forced his cock into her mouth each time. He choked her as he forced her to swallow his cum each time, he even made her clean his cock immediately after he had taken her anal cherry. For three days he kept this pace, drinking, beating, raping. On Monday, he sobered up enough to go to work, she regained enough strength to call the police. Before that afternoon, she was laying in a hospital bed while he was being handcuffed by the police.

She avoided asking me questions about the past, instead she just asked me about what I was thinking, what I thought about the job so far, the apartment complex, and about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Before we knew it the early hours of the morning had arrived and Christina was beginning to get sleepy. "I think its time for you to go home, Chris," I said, "you're falling asleep.

"It's the damn 'itis' from the delicious food and the wine," she replied with a laugh, "but you're right, I should get home. We need to do this again," she finished as she stood up.

"Well," I replied, "you know where I live, come over anytime." As I opened the door for her, without thinking we both reached to each other and kissed, not a passionate first kiss but one of a couple that had been together for a very long time. After the quick kiss we both looked at each other, exchanged an awkward laugh before she left. There was a comfort in that kiss that we both needed, two broken people that found each other despite all odds.

The next few days went much the same, with one big exception: I had a new boss. The way I heard it, after my little talk with the Commander, Sergeant Bell found herself in front of his desk as he tore into her with every possible adjective. The Command Sergeant Major followed suit, he chewed her ass so hard that her grandchildren's grandchildren would feel the bite. By the time the First Sergeant got to her, word had gotten out and everyone around the smoking area gathered around to look at my new shiny badge.

"Well," Mr. Head said as I walked back to the clinic, "she would like to speak with you, I think she can hardly sit with the ass chewing that she took." He laughed loudly as I made my way to her office.

"Please come in, she said in an unusually professional manner, "and please close the door behind you." I did as she asked me, she closed whatever folder she was reading before she looked at me, "I don't think you understand how bad it is for you to burn your bridges so early into your civil service. You have 90 days where I can fire you without so much as a reason," she snapped her fingers, "just that quick, you'd be gone if I fucking felt like it."

I laughed so hard that tears were bursting out of my eyes, my stomach would hurt for a few days after, she just looked at me with confusion. "Oh, you're serious," I said, I removed my badge and placed it in her desk, "well, here you go. You have fun with that, Ms. Bell."

"Wait," she tried to stop me, she rose from her chair, the deathly look I gave her forced her to sit, the tone of my voice made sure she would never get up on her high horse again.

"Listen, you dumb bitch," I said in that icy, cold tone, "you have no fucking clue how fucked you are now, do you? Let me put it to you this way, and do try to keep up because I hate repeating myself." I cleared my throat for emphasis, "ignoring just how illegal what you just said is, and ignoring the fact that everyone would question any reason why you fired me so soon after you got your ass chewed out by the entire chain of command because of your fuck up, well you're forgetting one very important issue."

"What's that?" Her voice had lost all thunder and bravado.

"You have no fucking idea who I am, what I've done, where I've been, and more importantly, what I can do." I moved to the door, "kiss your career goodbye, Ms. Bell, trust me when I tell you, you just fucked with the wrong person." It was not an empty threat. I drove to my apartment and as soon as I walked in my cellphone was ringing; I knew who it was so I ignored the call and shut my phone down. I moved to my refrigerator and grabbed a cold beer as I settled into my couch and lit a cigarette, laughing as I saw the clouds gather for the shit storm that would soon follow.

Christina knocked on my door at around 5 that afternoon, by that time I had worked my way through the better part of a case of beer. "I got a really interesting phone call this afternoon," she said as she walked in and headed straight into my fridge. She looked at the nearly empty beer in my hand before she grabbed two of them from the fridge. She opened them both and handed me one, "in fact, it was more like 15 calls, wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Just a dumb person that fucked with me," I replied, "what would you like to have for dinner tonight?"

"Some Mexican sounds good," she replied, "but D, what happened today?" I gave her a brief and short summary of what had happened, she laughed almost as hard as I had. "Oh, what a stupid bitch. She's done."

"Yeah, that's what I figured."

"No, D, she really is," she looked at me, "I processed her very negative NCOER today, she's headed out to some line unit somewhere while the investigation is being completed. The lawyer has been trying to call you all day."

"I had my phone off," I replied, "figured they would blow it up trying to save face."

"What are you going to do?"

"Let them sweat," I replied, "it'll serve them good I think."

"Well," she said with a chuckle, "how about we go to the store and get whatever you're going to need to make me another amazing dinner. But first, I do need to shower, get this day off me." I held back my tongue, she noticed. "Behave," she said as she walked out of my apartment.

Our grocery trip was normal, I know this sounds bad to some people but to me it was heavenly. We walked together, talking and sharing little stories and lots of laughs. When we got to the checkout lanes, the cashier asked us how long we had been married, she blushed a little at that comment as I just laughed. I explained to the cashier that we had just started dating, Christina blushed even more as the cashier just smiled at us. We got back to our usual joking as we drove back to my place.

Dinner was chicken enchiladas with some homemade sauce and sour cream. She loved it, and the Mexican beer that we used to cool the heat fit well into the night, we continued to talk and learn more about each other, again Christina avoided asking me too much about myself. Just enough to know who I was and what my morals were, but nothing more that would reveal the past dealings that I had been involved in. After than night, I was curious about that, and I decided that this was time to figure it out.

aka_Mike
aka_Mike
501 Followers