Page 51 of Nights Without Night
“What about the time the Quartermaster almost killed you when you kept asking for non-regimented goods?” Doc teases.
“Hey, I wore him down in the end! He got me that bottle of cheese-wiz, so help me God.”
“That’s what you were asking for?” I ask incredulously.
“I needed the can for a…project,” he says.
The food arrives in big plates for sharing. We dig in, and Muhafiz sighs as he chews on fresh shrimp.
“Man, remember surf and turf days when we were officers? That shrimp came intrash bags. And the meat, damn, you had to saw through it. It was the best thing that could possibly happen to us back then.”
“What miserable bastards we were,” Callie says.
“Were? Don’t you remember when we ate at Bongo Drum’s—that’s what we called the leader of one of the Sunni families cause of his, you know,” he says the last bit to me, drawing a half circle against his stomach with his hands and then patting it like a drum.
“Wow. The level of Special Forces diplomatic tactic is blowing me away,” I say sarcastically.
“Hey, there are like seven hundred Yazid’s in one village. You try keeping them straight.”
“How about Yazid One, Yazid Two…”
“Oh yeah, those are memorable,” Ricky snarks. “Anyway, the point is that his food was so good I went straight to nirvana. Oh, man…they do something to the rice, man. I barely listened to a word he said.”
“Spoken like a true Green Beret. Elite of the elite, right?” I tease.
“Fuck the Navy! Viva los Green Beret!” Ricky shouts. The whole table cheers, raising their glasses and drinking. I laugh, shaking my head, but toast to them.
The conversation weaves in and out of shop-talk. It’s obvious Isadoro is interested, so they talk about some of the non-classified going-ons. Callie complains about how the soldiers in a recent camp they visited didn’t even know the western hand-sign for ‘stop’ is the Iraqi equivalent to ‘welcome’, and were all outraged when none of the locals stopped their cars when they were signed with an outstretched palm facing them.
“You’d think the few soldiers that are left would know that,” she grouses.
A few times Isadoro will lean into her and ask her quiet questions, obviously about more sensitive missions. Despite their talk about letting go, it’s easier said than done.
It’s clear I’m completely out of the loop. But Isadoro, who had once been right in the middle, is now in the periphery, and that transition comes with loss.
The conversation turns to lighter subjects and Isadoro gets up from the table, heading to the toilet. The moment he’s out of earshot, all eyes are on me. I freeze with my drink half-way to my mouth.
“How is he doing, really?” Doc asks me, watching me with his animal eyes. I put my drink down, pressing my lips. I don’t want to betray Isadoro’s trust, but if there is one group of people to tell…
I shake my head slightly. “Not great,” I admit. They all look at each other.
“Not great like I can’t get a job not great, or not great as in-” Ricky makes a choking sound, letting his head flop to the side as if snapped by a noose.
“Jesus, Ricky!” David says as everybody groans.
“Hey! Everybody was thinking it.”
“Literally none of us were thinking that. That’s not where Isadoro would go, especially not when he’s got Iván,” Callie says. I immediately feel uncomfortable at the insinuation.
“I don’t think it works like that. I don’t think one person can just save another like that, not if they don’t want it.”
“But Isadoro does want it. And a person can keep someone afloat long enough that they can find the strength to swim to shore. And—I’m sorry to put the responsibility on you, but that’s what you are to him. He don’t gotta say as much for us to know. You gotta…you gotta take care of him, yeah?” she says.
“Yes,” I agree immediately. “And…yeah, things have been rough but…I don’t think you have to worry. The fact he’s here now…yeah. It’s…it’s good,” I say. They all relax.
“Call us, if you need someone to back you up. Some things may have to come from us,” Muhafiz says. I nod.
“Thank you,” I say, truly meaning it. By the time Isadoro gets back, we’ve switched the subject and I’m feeling tired but light.
