Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Jo had to yell to be heard over the shouts of people running for their lives. “I know you don’t wanna kill no one here. If you’ve been to ‘Nam, I know you’ve had enough killin’. I sure as fuck have. Come on. I just wanna go home, man. Have a beer. Maybe get laid.”
“Ain’t been to ‘Nam yet, but I ain’t goin’ back to base neither.”
“No one said you were.” He’d stopped firing momentarily, likely to reload. Jo took that opportunity to talk to the guy. “Where you stationed?”
“Fort Knox.” The guy’s voice was quiet now. I wondered if he was scared to go back or if he was thinking about his buddies. I could see now he was black. Light-skinned, but black just the same.
“Gettin’ picked on by white boys who think they’re better’n you?”
I hadn’t expected Jo to go there, but I’d seen it more times than I cared to admit. Especially with younger soldiers who had no idea what they were getting into when they signed up. We were all warriors, brothers on the battlefield, but in the barracks, prejudice was alive and well. She must have hit the mark because he was silent a long while before speaking again. He didn’t start shooting, though.
“Ain’t all I thought it was gonna be. My dad was in France during World War II. When the draft started, he said I should join the Navy. Said I wasn’t smart enough to go to college so I should go ahead and join the Navy before I got drafted to the Army. Only, the Navy didn’t want me on account ‘a I didn’t get no high school diploma. When the Air Force wouldn’t take me neither, I was gonna go on back home, but the guy at the office took me next door and the Army signed me. I didn’t want to sign up, but they said I’d have a better chance of gettin’ to stay home if I volunteered. I think they tricked me.”
“They sendin’ your brigade to ‘Nam?”
“Yeah. Dad says I ain’t smart enough to not get my head shot off.” There was a loud sob as the kid broke down. “I don’t wanna get my head shot off, lady!”
“I know. How old’er you, honey?”
“Eighteen.”
“Joined the second you left school?”
“Yeah. But I didn’t want to be in the Army.” He sniffed once and I thought the kid was probably crying.
“You don’t wanna hurt these people.” Jo’s voice was calm. She spoke to him like a mother. Firm but loving, like she truly felt sorry for the kid. “Put your gun down and let me take you to the police. You might not have to go to ‘Nam, because they’ll probably put you in jail, but you’ll survive. And if you do it now, voluntarily, you won’t hurt anyone and maybe you can get a service lawyer to negotiate a less than honorable discharge so you can go home after you serve your time.”
That was promising a little much, but it was possible the military had more important things to worry about than one scared teenager in over his head. The kid stood there with his head down. I could see him where I crouched behind the barrier to the stairs, maybe twenty-five feet away. He had the shotgun in one hand at his side, not like he was ready to start shooting again.
“No. I don’t wanna really hurt nobody. Was kinda hopin’ what you said’d happen. They’d just kick me out. Maybe put me in jail for a while, then I could go home.”
“Put your gun down, honey. Lay it at the top of the stairs and put your hands behind your head. Can you do that?”
It was hard to reconcile the Jo who’d threatened to bury me if I kissed her again without permission to this soft-spoken, motherly woman trying to talk down an airport gunman. My hackles rose when she came out from her hiding spot, her hands up in a non-threatening gesture. I didn’t like her being away from cover, so I slowly stepped out into the open, keeping my hands palm up and out to my sides.
“I got a buddy behind you to your left, kid. He ain’t gonna hurt you, but he’s gonna get your weapon and stay at your side. If you’ve got any other weapons or ammo, we’d appreciate it if you’d lay them next to your shotgun and back away. Do it slowly so everyone knows you ain’t gonna hurt no one.”
“Ain’t got nothin’ else,” he said. “Just this one. Ammo’s in the bag beside it.”
“That’s good. Very good. Now, can you put your hands behind your head and take five steps straight backward? My friend Mike’s gonna be right with you.”
“You ain’t gonna shoot me, are you?”
“No, honey,” Jo said. “We’ve both had enough shootin’ to last a lifetime.”