White clouds tinged with gray waited for the command to approach and drop their cargo. Jeremiah looked into the sky, hoping the rain would hold off a little more. Folding chairs held small puddles left over from last night’s showers as the sun turned the terrace into an outdoor steam room. He wiped his brow. The edge of his sleeve had long ago reached saturation. The sweat simply dripped off the black robe onto the ground.
A team of maintenance workers roamed the aisles with towels and did their best to wipe down the chairs. Jeremiah and Ben helped clean the rows near the front. Their brief friendship had grown unexpectedly, two guys with little in common who spent most of their free time together. Often, they stayed up until three in the morning talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
Victoria and Andrew rounded out the group. Her thick, dark hair brushed back into a braided ponytail. Her quick wit and exceptional intellect a potent defense and persuasive offense. He, with the first signs of a retreating hairline, played the strong, silent type. On the days when someone got him going, though, it was nearly impossible to shut him up.
Ben wiped and talked, his friends a few paces in each direction. The rest of the black-clad students milled around like wild mustangs waiting for the corral gate to open.
“I’m sure glad they’re holding this outside,” Ben said. “Wouldn’t want that air conditioning keeping us cool.”
“You’ll have plenty of time for that at your cushy desk job,” Victoria said. “Who’d you get that offer from again?”
“Gunnerson and Hodge.” Ben cleared his throat and shifted his weight.
“They’re paying for his law school while he works,” Andrew added, the towel briefly moving to his neck. “Not sure how he always lands on his feet like that. He must have someone up above looking out for him.”
“Is that right?” Victoria said. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Uh … yeah,” Ben said. “They mentioned they’d pay for school.”
“You don’t sound all that happy about it.”
“No. I mean, yeah. It’s a great offer.” Ben concentrated harder on his work.
“Everything good, bud?” Andrew asked.
Ben nodded. “It’s all good. Say, I heard you got an offer yourself.”
Jeremiah knew an intentional change in subject when he heard one. He decided to ask Ben about it later.
“I got one as a manager trainee at the steel mill in my hometown,” Andrew said.
“You going to take it?” Victoria asked.
“Yeah. Unless I get another offer soon. It’ll be weird, though. I’ve known most of the workers since I was a kid. It’s one of those towns where everyone knows each other. Now, I’m going to be their boss. I get the feeling they won’t take me seriously.”
“Well, if they don’t,” Ben said, “just show them the door. Let them know who’s boss.”
“That won’t work,” Andrew said. “Not with those guys.”
“I know,” Ben said. “I was messing with you. They’d probably throw you into the furnace and make you into a steel beam. That’s what I’d do anyway.”
“You couldn’t throw a tin can in there, not with those girlie arms of yours.”
“Watch what you’re saying,” Victoria said, her hands placed on her hips.
“Sorry, Vic,” Andrew said. “No offense meant. I was just saying Ben here is a girlie man.”
“Girlie man?” Ben said, throwing his towel down in mock disgust. “I’ll show you a girlie man.”
The all-American linebacker charged at his friend. His black robe flapped behind him like a blown shadow. Andrew waited for Ben to get a couple steps away before pivoting to his left and tripping the raging bull. Ben fell to his face, dirt, water, and grass ramming into his teeth. A green streak smeared onto his collar. Andrew threw himself on top in an attempt to submit his friend, but Ben spun to the side in time to miss the brunt of the weight. The two rolled in the grass, twisting and pivoting, grabbing and ripping as though the winner would wear the championship belt. Victoria’s best efforts to stop the melee went unheeded, especially with Jeremiah urging them on. Not until Ben’s knee sat on the small of Andrew’s back with an arm bent at an awkward angle did the smaller man tap out.
“Say it,” Ben shouted from on top.
“Say what?” Andrew said, wheezing from the exertion.
“Say how this girlie man beat you.”
Andrew laughed. Jeremiah joined in. Victoria shook her head and pointed at Ben.
“You might want to fix yourself,” she said.
“What?” Ben looked where her finger pointed. A red swell blushed across his face.
“I see you decided to go pantless,” she said.
Ben tugged at the end of his gown. “Nobody’ll know. Well, nobody would’ve known.”
“You have to drop off the gown at the end of the ceremony. Everybody would’ve known.”
“I guess I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“I guess not.” Victoria brushed a thin, green blade out of his hair. “At least, there’s one guy here with brains enough not to act the fool in public.”
Jeremiah jutted out his chin in forced bravado.
“You’re forgetting the student center incident,” Ben said.
“And the one after that,” Andrew said.
“And the other ten or twenty or whatever,” Ben said. “How did you manage to graduate? Or, at least, stay alive?”
“A girlie man and his weakling friend had my back,” Jeremiah said.
“Oh no, you didn’t just go there,” Ben said.
In a flash, Jeremiah found himself flopping over Ben’s shoulder. His ribs bounced off the big guy’s head.
“Put him down,” Victoria ordered in a way that indicated she wouldn’t tolerate anything other than immediate obedience.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ben said. He set Jeremiah on the ground. “But you better watch your back,” he whispered.
Jeremiah smiled. “Better find my seat. Looks like Immerson is ready to get this party started.”
“Try not to give him any lip,” Ben said.
“I’ll do my best, but I don’t promise anything.”
Victoria squeezed Jeremiah’s arm. “See you in a bit.”
Jeremiah’s heart felt happy and heavy at the same time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The ceremony lasted well past noon. A few more boos than cheers followed Jeremiah across the stage. Dean Immerson gripped his hand as he handed him the diploma. The same smile rested on Immerson’s face as it did for the other students.
Pictures and hugs took the better part of the afternoon. By the reflecting pool. On the bridge which connected the main part of campus to a quiet place known as the Garden. Friends and family laughed and cried, making soon-to-be broken promises to call every day and to never lose touch.
The four set plans to meet at McAnany’s for a last supper at their favorite hangout. Jeremiah felt a distance between him and the others, particularly with Ben, as though his friend held onto something he couldn’t bring himself to share. The same sensation struck him again as he entered the pub.
“My man,” Ben called out from the table. “Come on over.”
Victoria slid down to give Jeremiah space beside her. Ben smiled but quickly looked away.
“Where’s Andrew?” Jeremiah asked.
“Getting the next round,” Ben said.
“I see you started without me.”
“We figured we’d give you a chance to catch up. By the way, we went ahead and ordered for you.”
“The usual?”
“With an extra tub of ketchup.”
Andrew returned with two drafts in each hand, the foam spilling out the top of their tipped rims. The frosted glass cups clinked as he set them down.
“About time you showed up,” Andrew said. “Ben and I assumed we had another search and rescue mission coming.”
Ben’s lip twitched when he heard that. Andrew kept going.
“Ben was looking forward to it. I told him we should just let you get your butt whipped this time. Figured it was good for you, helps build character. Victoria agreed. Didn’t you, Vic?”
“I told him you could handle yourself but to get his butt out there,” Victoria said. The warm, yellow light from the fixture above the table danced in her eyes. “What took you so long?”
“My dad,” Jeremiah said. “We had a talk.”
“About what?” Ben asked.
“Life. The future. How he was proud of me. Told me he wanted me to meet President Josiah.”
Ben bit his lip and held it a moment before he spoke. “That’s cool, Jer. I forgot your dad works in his administration. Did Josiah say why he wanted to meet you?”
“Probably to give you the Medal of Freedom,” Andrew chimed in. “Or the award for lowest GPA that actually graduated.”
“That was my senior year only,” Jeremiah said. “The first three years, I did fine.”
“Is that what God means when he says you’ll suffer for his kingdom?” Andrew said.
“You went a bit far with that one,” Victoria said.
“It’s OK,” Jeremiah said. “I know he’s just joking around. And I’ll put in a word with God, ask him to let it slide.”
“You do that for me, J,” Andrew said. It didn’t sound like he was joking this time.
“I figured my dad talks about me in the office,” Jeremiah said, answering the initial question. “Put in a good word for me, I’m sure.”
“You think Josiah’s going to offer you a job?” Victoria asked.
“I doubt it,” Jeremiah said.
“Then, you still don’t know where you’ll work?”
Jeremiah scrunched his lips to the side. “Afraid not. How about you, Vic? You never told us what you were doing.”
“That’s because I didn’t know.” Her face swelled with pride. “I got the email sometime during the ceremony. ‘Congratulations. We’re happy to offer you the English position at Conroe Middle School.’” She bounced up and down in her seat. Her whole body seemed to smile.
“We’re proud of you, Vic,” Andrew said. “Aren’t we, Ben?”
“Yeah,” Ben said with the enthusiasm of a turtle lifting itself from a nap.
Andrew ignored him and continued. “Middle school, huh? You sure you want to work with that age group? A bunch of smelly, little runts running around doing stupid things. That was me, anyway,” he added.
“I was more of the manly, get all the girls type,” Jeremiah said. “Just like now. You, Ben?”
Ben stared ahead of him. His hands wrapped around the glass until the blood drained from his fingertips.
“Hey, Ben? What gives?”
The question floated in the air as though spoken through a dream. His eyes slowly turned. The rest of his mind caught up to them a few seconds later.
“Yeah. Huh? I’m sorry guys. Guess I’m a little preoccupied.”
“I noticed,” Jeremiah said. “Anything you want to discuss?”
“No.” Ben’s chin dipped. “Well, I guess you guys should know. I turned down the offer at Gunnerson to take a better one.” A full breath entered his lungs and returned slowly to the pub. Determination fixed his jaw. “I’ve accepted a commission in the army. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Victoria’s face contorted, a mixture of confusion and fear altering its contours. “You can’t do that,” she said. “You can’t go.”
“I can,” he said. “I had to. After President Josiah put the call out, what else could I do?”
Jeremiah considered it all. President Josiah beseeching the country to take up arms against the northern invasion. Videos of flames, of jets streaking across the skies. Daily body counts revealed on every nightly news report. Jeremiah stared at Ben, trying to see if his friend was joking or not, to verify if he truly wanted to subject himself to the horrors of the latest war. He twisted his head to get a different angle as though the answer rested in the striations buried in Ben’s tense cheek.
“I didn’t realize,” Jeremiah began. “You never mentioned it.”
“I kept it to myself,” Ben said. “I guess I was trying to prevent you from knowing. Another thing I didn’t think through.”
Victoria rubbed her eyebrow, unaware of the motion. Words formed, disappeared, and re-formed over and over. The right ones, as simple as they were, finally came. “Where are you going to serve?”
“On the front line,” Ben said.
“How do you know? Won’t it take a while to train? What is it, six months at least? The war could be over by then.” The panic increased with each comment.
“I did my training over the last two summers. A couple week refresher and I’m on the line.”
Ben raised the glass to his lips. The others sat in silence. Andrew was the one who finally broke it.
“I’m proud of you, buddy. Real proud.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ben and Jeremiah dropped Victoria at her apartment and headed off on their own. A full moon towered overhead, partially hidden by the sparse beech trees in the Garden. A squirrel roused from its midnight sleep searched among the roots for a cracked beechnut. Ben’s playful side had returned but couldn’t prevent the stress from seeping through.
“What d’you think, Jer? You never told me.”
“About what?”
“Me going to fight.”
“I think you’ve made the decision you thought was best.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“You mean, do I agree with it?” Jeremiah said. “I certainly don’t have an issue with it. God is with President Josiah. If Josiah thinks it’s necessary, I’ll go with him on it. Besides, you’re a good guy with a heart for God. If he’s leading you in this direction, who am I to argue?”
“I appreciate you saying that.” Ben looked into the shadows. Mud collected on the bottom of their shoes as their feet plodded across the moist earth. “That’s still not what I meant.”
“What then?”
Ben paused. “Am I going to make it?”
“Make it back? Alive?”
Ben nodded.
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t he tell you? You say he talks to you.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “He doesn’t give me specifics about people. Every once in a while, maybe, but not in this case.”
“Do you think he’d tell you if you asked?”
“I’m not sure it’s appropriate to ask. Truth be told, I’m not sure you’d want to know.”
Worry etched into Ben’s forehead. “I’m not afraid of dying, you know. Well, maybe a little. It’s more of how bad it’ll hurt. What really bothers me is being responsible for the lives of kids barely old enough to drive. Of never having kids myself or fulfilling the plans God has for me.” He rubbed his hand across his face. “Do you ever think about stuff like that?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does it keep you up at night?”
“I’ve had more sleepless nights than I can count.”
“How am I supposed to handle it?”
“The church answer or the real answer?”
“Both.”
“Put all your worries into God’s hands and live moment by moment. That’s both answers, by the way.”
“Easier said than done, huh?” “Yeah. Easier said than done.”