(4)
— Originally published in the Antietam Review (Spring, 1999)
Continued from page (3)
“Hey, Diver, how’s it hangin’?”
Diver mumbled something. He looked as hung over as Kerney felt.
“This one of the new M-60’s they just put on line?” Kerney asked.
“Wasn’t here last time I pulled guard.”
Kerney swung the machine gun on its rest. It responded with oiled ease.
Slowly, he turned it toward the group of men working in the barren sand on
the far side of the barbed wire. He swivelled the weapon toward Griffin with
studied casualness until he caught Griffin in the sights. Griffin was already
stripped to the waist, wet and shining in the burning sunshine. He was lean
in the hips and broad in the shoulders. A shadow of hair darkened his chest
and ran down his stomach into his fatigue pants. A silver medal on a chain
around his neck, next to his dog tags, swung with the motion of his body as
he tensed his muscles and forced the spade into the ground. Kerney watched
the sight’s cross-hairs jiggle at Griffin’s navel. He slid his hand to the trigger.
Cold and exciting to the touch—wet and slippery from his own sweat. He
stroked it with his middle finger. He felt a sudden stab of fierce pleasure.
Griffin in the sights, shimmering in the sunlight, big, blond, sinewy.
Kerney snapped the safety off. He caressed the trigger again. Then he
shoved the weapon away from him. It clattered back and forth.
“Easy, man,” Diver said, now awake and tense. “That motherfucker’s
hair trigger. You bang it around it’ll go off.” Kerney gave him the finger and
moved out, pulling off his shirt and hat, getting ready to dig next to Riley.
Kerney crouched in the shadow of the mess hall and watched Griffin’s
wet body bound and spring on the basketball court. He clocked Griffin’s
regular mail checks with Riley, three times each day. He lingered in the mess
hall with Griffin so he could listen to the strange catch in Griffin’s voice and
feel the resonance of his laughter. He listened as Griffin talked about Anita,
the wonderful Christmas they’d shared before he shipped out, and their
hopes to have children after he finished his enlistment. When Griffin spoke of
Anita, his voice took on an odd huskiness. Kerney wanted to comfort him, to
protect him.
TOM'S TALES