THREE
Then you knew your race was done, and well
I hoped you’d win.
But Death came and opened the door
into the future.
The two young men sprawled across the car seats, asleep. Mike in the front seat, Shane in the back. He stirs, rocks the car, and Mike awakens and sits up. He sleepily rubs his face and tries to smooth his hair, “Wow! Were all these cars here last night?”
Shane looks around at the full parking lot, “I think so, most of ‘em anyway...maybe there’s a few more...it’s hard to tell. It was pretty wild and dark when we pulled in. And it was raining pretty hard.”
“It was raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock, we’re lucky we didn’t run into half of them on the way in. Man, I’m stiff. That steering wheel kind of inhibits tossing and turning.” Mike groaned.
“You snooze you lose...it’s my car...I get the back seat.”
Mike smiled ruefully, “Yea, yea, I hear you.”
“Let’s take a leak and get out of here. I wanna get on the road, get some eggs and stuff for breakfast…aren’t you hungry?”
“My thoughts exactly. I’m hungry as a bear. Hey look, is that someone under the picnic table?” Mike grabbed his sandals and started for the restrooms, his head swiveling, trying to take in all of the sights.
Shane shook his head at the sight, “Whew, I bet that was a wet night, that table didn’t keep the rain off. Hurry up, I think I’m gonna faint from hunger.”
After taking care of business, they get back in and Shane weaves the car around all of the vehicles parked in the rest stop. They resume their journey. Shane gets back to the discussion from yesterday, “You never answered my question about the draft board, have you heard from them?”
Mike looks out of the side window, “Look, not a cloud in the sky! And after all that rain.” He tries to change the subject.
Shane is in no mood for games, he is starving after all, “Just answer the question will ya! What’s up?
Mike pulls a folded, tattered letter from his back pocket and begins to read, “13 August 1972...Greetings and felicitations, You are hereby ordered to report to your local Selective Service Office no later than 15 days from the receipt of this notice. You will receive instructions on reporting for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States of America. Failure to acknowledge this order may result in fines up to $10,000 or imprisonment not to exceed 5 years or both. Have a nice day, signed Joe Doaks, Chairman.” He carefully folds the letter back to the way it was and stuffs it in his back pocket.
Shane is silent for a while, then says, “Greetings, eh? Ain’t that something...welcome to the first day of the rest of your life. On my birthday too! Have a nice day?!!!! They can stick that up their.....”
Mike interrupts, “I just threw that in...it didn’t really say that.”
Shane is still buzzed at the letter, “Well, they can stick it anyway!! What are you going to do?”
Mike looks over at him, he is grim-faced and serious for the first time since they started this trip. “What can I do? Hell, my old man just got home from there, he went to Korea and WWII, too. Can you hear him saying, ‘Go on to Canada Mike, this is a nasty, unjust war and besides, everybody knows you don’t care for leeches on your penis.’ My mom and step-dad would think I’m a chicken shit too. I don’t know, I don’t know...don’t know. John Wayne didn’t chicken out did he? Or Audie Murphy?”
Shane offered a supportive fact, “I read somewhere that LBJ got rich on this damned war, you know...the “Military Industrious Compact”, or something like that.”
Mike didn’t let up, “Yea, but remember “The Longest Day”? Those boys were scared and they still jumped off the boat and ran across the beach.”
Without thinking, Shane replied, “That wasn’t real life, it was a movie.”
Mike’s eyes flew open in surprise, “Duhhhh, D-Day, Longest Day, World War II, remember?” He smiled at his friend’s lapse.
“Yea, Yea, just a slip. I know, my dad was in that war too. He won’t talk about it though. I wonder why?”
“Mine either, I had to hear about it from his brothers, there was a couple of guys in Arizona that had just got back from ‘Nam. They were scary dudes. One guy was in Hue, they almost got over ran. That’s all he would say. Another told about a time when Charlie came through the wire and they fired their M-60 until the barrel glowed cherry red...in the daytime. They changed it over and over until they ran out of people to shoot.” Mike fell silent, imagining the terror of endless waves of people trying to kill him.
Shane was quiet for a mile or two as well. Then he asked, “Why the hell are we there anyway? It ain’t like the commies are coming to California.”
Mike had a ready answer to that one as well, “You remember Senior Civics class, if we don’t stop ‘em there they’ll be in Malaysia next, Australia after that, Fiji, Midway, Oahu then good ol’ San Fran Cisco, the Domino Theory. If you can believe “the frog”, what a teacher he was.”
Shane laughed, “Hahahaha, remember Dudley, I didn’t think it was possible to run on top of those old wobbly desks. If the frog could’ve caught him...I don’t know what that dumb ol’ Dudley would’ve done to him.” Shane mimics the ‘frog’, lisping, ‘Class, class, would someone please stop Dudley, he has to go see the principal.’ Hahahaha, what a sight!”
“It’s a wonder that we ever learned anything in that class. He was a flippin’ idiot. Remember when we gave the Black Power salute during the national anthem, I thought he was going to stroke out when the principal told him he couldn’t inhibit our free speech. What a hoot. Who’s idea was that anyways?”
Shane chuckled and then went on, “Yea, or when we pretended to be German exchange students for the substitute teacher...Nein, Nein spreckensie Anglaise, Frau Schmidt?”
“Those were the days, none of this workin’ for a living. Hey, I’m hungry...pull into the next cafe you see.” Mike’ attention was back on his stomach.
“I could use something to eat too. My stomach just crashed against my backbone. You...work for a living, what a joke! Washin’ windshields and pumpin’ Ethyl.” Shane laughed at his own joke.
Mike played along, “Somebody’s got to do it. I’m just the man. Hey, here comes a place to eat, let’s try it. Anyplace called Mom’s gotta have good eats.”
Shane twisted the steering wheel tight enough to squeal the tires as he turned the baby blue Ford coupe into a parking space along the curb.
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