ARMY Bound

“Age?”

“Eighteen.”

“Weight?”

“One hundred and seventy pounds.”

“Hair color, brown. Eyes?”

“Hazel.”

“Here, hold this, stand there. Now turn to your left.”

Each direction registered only at the surface level of my mind as thoughts ran rampant down below. Felony. This would be a felony charge on my record for the rest of my life. How could I have been so stupid?

This is the last time I let Jared drag me into his shit. Brother or not, he is on his own now. Somehow I have got to get away from this shithole of a town and my family. I won’t let this be my future. I won’t spend my life like a caged animal: locked up, behind bars, a common criminal.

The cold metal bed frame leached the last bit of heat from my body as I sat down, staring at my hands. Ink still stained the tip of each finger. I was grateful for the silence. The guards saw fit to put me in a separate cell from my brother, and it was a slow night in the county jail. I had the cell to myself, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.

Rock bottom. That’s what they call it when you feel you have nothing left to lose. I did have something to lose, though. My freedom and my future. Both would disappear if I didn’t find a way to change my path.

How did I get here? Growing up, Jared and I used to be so close. Riding horses, learning tricks for the Rodeo, and playing pranks on Dad. I smiled slightly, remembering when we put firecrackers in Dad's back pocket, lit them, and ran like hell. They were just noise makers, and while they left a hole in his jeans, they didn’t hurt him. Boy did he run, and even hours later, he was still red-faced and sputtering mad. Even as angry as he was, he didn’t raise a hand against us. Dad wasn’t like that. Not like Mom.

All the happy memories would never make up for the countless days I hid under the bed as far back as I could get, with Jared pressed against the wall behind me. Struggling to stay out of reach of the long, hard handle of the broom, Mom would jab under the bed at random intervals, trying to scare us out so she could lay into us. My ears were constantly straining, desperately waiting to hear the sounds of her snoring, telling me she had passed out drunk so we could sneak outside to hide until Dad came home.

Usually, the punishment wasn’t even for anything we did. No, it was almost always our piece of shit youngest brother Jamie’s doing. Why Mom always favored him, I will never know.

The whole town talks. They all know she is a drunk and that she beats me and Jared. Grandma Clara is the only one who ever tried to do anything about it. Mom was so angry that she tried to take custody of us after all those years of failing to protect Mom and her siblings from Grandpa’s wrath. Grandma failed, though, and Mom did her best to keep us away after the judge ruled we were still hers to beat.

Last year, I ran away and stayed with Grandma for a while. If only my family had left well enough alone, but no - they had to follow me. I should have known a twenty-minute drive to the other side of town wasn’t far enough away.

No one else has ever tried to help us. Half the town whispers and talks about us as if we are as bad as her. The high school principal had it out for me before I arrived on that first day of ninth grade. I still can’t believe I let him paddle me in front of the whole school at graduation. At least I got that damn diploma. If it were any other student, he would have punished them in private or let it go, so close to graduation, but no, he had to take one last shot at humiliating me.

Maybe they all can see the truth that we aren’t worth saving.

Jared just turned seventeen, and already he is a worse drunk than Mom and just as violent. Friday nights in our town were known by many as our “family fight night.” No one bothered to differentiate between Jared, who started the fights, and me, who finished them and dragged my brother home before anyone got hurt too badly.

If half the town knew the truth about me, it wouldn’t matter how hard I tried to be good despite my family. No matter how many times I have prayed or showed up to church. No, not even God would save me then. If they knew I had laid with a man and enjoyed it. If they knew how hard I had to pretend to enjoy kissing Charlene. They would see me for the abomination I am and run me out of town with a pitchfork.

Men being attracted to men is a sin. Even the bible says it is. This town is too small; it is only a matter of time before I slip up and someone catches on. If that happened, even Grandma Clara would turn her back on me. I can’t bring that kind of shame down on her.

No, I need to leave when I get out of this cell. I need to find some way to go far away from here, somewhere no one knows me. I need to get a grip on these feelings. Repent to God, find a good woman, settle down, and have a family like a Christian man should.

Tomorrow, my parents will come get me out of here. They wouldn’t pass up a chance to get a whole night's sleep without worrying about Jared breaking into their room to steal money or attack them in their sleep. He has already broken through three different locks, and Mom has started to keep her purse and valuables locked up in a safe. Not that I can bring myself to feel much pity after all those years we lived in fear of her.

I will have to wait until after the court date, which gives me a timeline. Now, I need to get some sleep, or at least as much sleep as I can on this hard cot. Then, in the morning, with a clear head, I will think of a way.

As sunlight poured in through the bars of the one small window inside the cell, I came awake to metal clanging together. I saw Tommy, the town sheriff, opening my cell. So this was it, time to face my parents. I could only imagine the anger and disappointment on Dad’s face. Mom's hands would twitch, wanting to grab a drink or something to hit me with. Knowing damn well that she didn’t drink anymore since the stroke, and I had long ago gotten too big for her to hurt. Physically, at least.

I was relieved to hear Tommy tell me that my parents had come earlier and posted bail, then left. “They told me to let you both sleep,” he said, “they had no desire to be seen driving you home from jail.” Then he added, “Your brother left an hour ago, so you are on your own to find a way home. Joan at the front desk will give you the paperwork with your court date. Don’t bother leaving town. You know I would enjoy hunting your ass down and dragging you back here too much.”

“Good,” I thought. Walking home would give me time to think; maybe I would take the long way around. As I stepped out front, I saw the boys Jared had started the fight with at the convenience store last night. They must have been waiting for us but hadn’t noticed me yet. I quickly pulled my jacket up, dipped into the nearest building, and stumbled right into a recruiter for the US Army.

Two months later, I walked out of the courtroom and onto a bus heading to Fort Knox for eight weeks of hell. Not a single drill sergeant was as scary as my mother and that damn broom, though. I found I liked the steady routine. Eat, sleep, work out until you vomit, repeat. It wasn’t too hard to block out the sound of the drill sergeants calling us maggots or telling us we were trash. It wasn’t anything worse than how I already felt about myself.