Somewhere in the city of Hot Springs, Arkansas, not far from the Oklahoma and Texas borders.
Tim Bradshaw, a 40-year-old muscular family man, climbed the stairs to the upper floor of his house and knocked on a closed door.
“Charlie, dinner time!” he said.
Inside the bedroom his eldest son, Charlie, 16, with short brown hair, was playing a video game, one of those taking the point of view of the hero and the heavy weapon he uses to shoot as many bad guys as possible. Charlie had the look of the typical schoolboy, and at this moment he was behaving exactly like the typical schoolboy. But he was not a schoolboy.
“Charlie, come down! I mean now!” Tim turned the handle. The door was locked. So he knocked again, harder. “Charlie! Open it or I break it open!”
“Oh please Dad! Two more minutes!” Charlie’s voice sounded.
“Last call! You come down now or you spend the night starving!”
There was no other response, so Tim gave up; he turned and walked back downstairs.
The kid kept playing like nothing happened. Soon his dad came back.
“Hey kid, there’s a war movie on TV!” he yelled.
Charlie heard it, he turned off his game at once, stood up, went to the door and opened it.
He found his father standing just in front of him, like some evil shape about to take him to some hell place.
“I was kidding,” Tim said. He grabbed his son. “Now get your teen ass downstairs!” He dragged him downstairs, giving him no chance to turn loose and get back to his bedroom and video game.
Tim was far from doing this for the first time. He was the father of three; Charlie was his eldest child, and he was addicted to video games when the two others were not. This had made him the only one who needed to be regularly called more than once, and, if necessary, to be dragged by force to family meals and duties.
Since he’d left school he was always forgiven.
The rest of the Bradshaw family was waiting around the table as Tim finally appeared with Charlie, releasing him. Charlie put his collar back in place as he went to take his seat, facing his brother Kyle, 15, and sister Kathy, 13. Tim took his at one end of the table, facing his blonde, voluptuous wife Lorna, 38.
They started praying silently, saying nothing at all. It was Lorna who moved her head up, finishing the praying show. “God Bless America,” she said, crossing herself.
“God Bless America,” Tim said in his turn. The three kids imitated them simultaneously.
Then they started eating. There were a couple of whisky bottles on the table. Only Tim, Lorna… and Charlie could touch them.
“How is it over there, Charlie?” Lorna asked.
“I told you, Mom, it’s good. We have drills once a week, sometimes twice.”
“What’s a drill?” Kathy asked him.
“Well…”
His father gestured to him, making him silent.
“Oh come on, Daddy…” Kathy said.
“D’you wanna join the army or what?” Charlie said to her.
“Sure I do! I’ll be a better soldier than you are!”
“Is she kidding?” Charlie said to his mother.
“Are you kidding?” she said to Kathy.
“Am I kidding?” Kathy asked Kyle.
“I guess not,” Kyle said to Charlie.
“Sure you are,” Charlie told Kathy.
“What’s a drill?” Kathy asked him again.
“I’ll tell you when you’re bigger.”
“I wanna know now!”
“You wanna eat.” He gave her a plate of spaghetti, then a plate with the sauce, vegetables and meat in it, in order to keep her silent. “I still can tell you this,” he said, “when you’re a soldier you don’t usually eat this well.”
They all laughed, Kyle excepted, even if he kind of agreed with what his brother had just said. The problem was he was on cold terms with Charlie since he had joined the army, when he was still at high school and was an example as a student. His almost perfect results at school weren’t enough any more to attract the attention of his parents, who were feeling much prouder of Charlie than of him.
“Charlie, you’re so cute,” Lorna said.
“If you don’t like the way they feed you,” Kathy said, “why did you join them?”
“I didn’t join them for the food. And you know what? I didn’t join them for the drink, either!”
He laughed, picked up one of the whisky bottles and was about to drink from it when he stopped himself on time, poured the whisky in his glass and drank from it.
They looked at him with sorry eyes.
“I already knew you were a bloody pain in the neck,” Kyle said, taking the opportunity, “now we all just found out you are a drunk one too.”
“Let me tell you one thing, little brother,” Charlie said. “At school, they teach you how to smoke. In the army, they all smoke already, so they teach you how to do other things. Like drink or do drugs. That’s the way it is. You’re a smoker, I can drink. Everyone has one vice and addiction. I don’t call you some junkie, don’t call me no drunk. Right? Thanks.” He started eating again.
“Great speech,” Kyle said ironically. “Who taught you that?”
“Nobody. I’m no school jerk any more.”
“Easy boys, don’t start again. Not here and now,” their dad said. “And Kyle, stop teasing your elder brother.”
“I’m not,” Kyle said. “He’s teasing himself. Doesn’t wanna be called a drunk when he drinks like a hole.” Then, to Charlie: “And who told you I was smoking or drinking or doing drugs, smartass?”
“Kyle, what did I just say?”
“Sure you don’t call me a junkie,” Kyle continued, “I don’t smoke or sniff anything.”
“You’re a liar,” Charlie said.
“Grow up, big brother.”
*
Two hours later, Tim, Lorna and Charlie were sitting on a couch in front of the television set, watching the news. There was something about attacks, bombings, robberies and some other general bad stuff. They watched this silently, more or less dismayed.
“When I see this it makes me proud of being a soldier and serving my country,” Charlie said. “I mean, all this shit could happen in our city, close to our house!”
“You bet, son,” Tim approved.
“Who does all this, in your opinion?” Lorna asked Charlie.
“One thing is sure,” Charlie replied, “they’re not American.”
“You bet they ain’t, son,” Tim approved.
“They’re everything but American, I mean, why would fellow Americans bomb and rob their own country?”
His parents just looked at him, shrugging, then Tim said:
“There are many poor people in America, you know, son.”
“That’s not true. We never see any such people on TV.”
“That’s because they don’t show them to us, Charlie. But they do exist,” Lorna said. “Poor people, or addicted to some bad substances, who don’t know what to do with their own lives. Most of them live out there on the streets. So lost that you can’t imagine.”
They kept watching the news, until a commercial break came up.
“Tell me son, how does it feel to be the youngest of all soldiers?” Tim asked.
“Well, it means something.”
“What do your fellows over there think about that?” Lorna asked.
“Oh please, Mom.”
“Tell your mom, son,” Tim said.
“How can I know? There are so many of them. Some of them are friends of mine, some others are not, and I don’t talk to the rest.”
“Those who’re not your friends, how tough are they on you?”
Without giving an answer, Charlie picked up the TV remote control. “God I hate those stupid commercials,” he said. He started changing channels. “They’re not my friends, Dad, that’s all,” he answered, while keeping working on the remote control. “It doesn’t mean they’re playing tough on me.”
“Yeah but don’t tell me there’s nobody on you. I was in the army too, I know the rules out there.”
Charlie ended up finding the movie We Were Soldiers, starring Mel Gibson.
“Wow! The best movie of all time!” he yelled with pure joy.
Tim and Lorna looked at each other, kind of resigned, but still smiling.
“Okay, we’re gonna let you watch this, son.” Tim laid his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “But don’t forget to wake up early in the morning.”
Charlie didn’t look up at once. As his parents were on their way out he turned to them. “Sure, Dad,” he said. “I’ll take Kathy to school.”
His parents turned to him, smiling with pride. “That’s my boy,” Tim said.
“Good night, Dad,” Charlie said. “Good night, Mom.”
“Good night, son.”
“See you tomorrow,” Lorna said.
They walked out.
*
The next morning saw Charlie still sitting in the couch, sleeping and snoring. Lorna walked in, already dressed and ready to go to work, as the banker that she was. She smiled as she saw him. She walked to him and softly woke him up. “Hey Rambo, stop sawing wood,” she said.
Charlie took his head between his hands, yawned it off, then he shook it violently.
“How was the film?” she asked. “Pretty boring, I suppose.”
“I fell asleep right after it.”
“Sure, sure. And the video game console, what’s it doing in here?”
“Well…” Charlie said, showing embarrassment.
“C’me on, don’t let your dad see you like this. And don’t forget your little sister.” She took the remote control and turned off the TV.
“I won’t, Mom, I won’t.” Lorna saw an almost empty bottle on the floor, she picked it up. “Look, I only had a few mouthfuls, okay?” Charlie said. “We started drinking from it last night.”
“You mean you started drinking from it last night. I didn’t touch it, and your dad drank from the other bottle.”
“Oh please, Mom…”
“Don’t ‘please’ me. Look, if you wanna make a good soldier you need to slow down on this, if not to stay away from it.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Don’t say this just to make me happy.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. Rambo was no drunk.”
“You don’t know about that, anyway Rambo is not for real.”
“But he’s your hero. Right?”
Charlie gave up.
“Now go clean up. Your sister needs you.” She helped Charlie up. “Hey.”
“I suppose you’re going now to work…”
“That’s right. So I probably won’t see you again before you leave.”
“I guess not.”
“Well…”
They hugged each other.
“Don’t forget…” she started.
“…to put the ignition key in the glove compartment,” he finished.
“You smell.”
“I smell like a soldier ready to fight and serve his country.”
“You’ve never smelt like that before.”
“Isn’t it a good sign?”
“Attention!” Lorna suddenly ordered, and Charlie sprang to attention. “At ease.” He stood at ease. “That’s my boy.”
They hugged each other again.
*
The car abruptly stopped, its tyres screeching like crazy, the driver frantically putting his foot down on the brake pedal, to avoid Charlie and his complete US Army suit – uniform and hat, and the star-spangled banner all over him (chest, sleeves, hat, pants, even shoes) –, who was crossing the street without even having looked around first. The driver vomited loud insults as he left, and Kathy, who was following with her doll face, blond hair and typical schoolgirl clothes, burst out laughing.
Both kids were heading to Kathy’s school, hand in hand.
“You know,” Kathy said, “I’ll always think a young boy like you should go to school and get some education.”
“Because for you I have no education?”
“No, I mean…”
“You mean watching commercials and music videos on TV? Is that education to you?”
“We don’t do only that…”
“They just teach you how to do the same things you do at home. They teach you how and where to spend your money.”
“Last Friday we saw a French commercial.”
“A what?”
“A commercial from France.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s a country in Europe.”
“Eu… Europe? What is this? Is that what you guys are taught about, that kind of phony shit?”
“It sounds phony to you because you don’t know about it,” Kathy said.
“People should be taught how to protect themselves and protect our nation.”
“Protect against what? We’ve got all the power, the money and the weapons!”
Charlie frowned. “Who told you that?” he asked.
“I heard it on TV.”
“Whatever,” he said, shaking his head.
“Do you read?” Kathy asked.
“Read? What for?”
Kathy gave up. She changed the subject. “Charlie?” she said.
“Yes.”
“What’s a drill?” she asked.
“Oh please, not again.”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“Okay. It’s the military word for exercise.”
“Exercise?”
“Not your kind of exercise. I mean, not the school kind. Mine is physical. Much more physical.” He didn’t say any more.
“Why don’t you tell me more?”
“About what?”
“About what you do as a soldier.”
“Can’t you guess?”
“I don’t wanna guess, I wanna know.”
“Well… you’re a girl and you’re too little to know.”
“You mean I’m too little to understand?”
“That’s right. I’ll tell you more when you’re a bigger girl.”
“I wanna know now!”
“You wanna know everything now!”
“That’s the way I am.”
“And that’s what makes you a little pain in the ass!”
They laughed.
“Why d’you wanna know about that now anyway?” Charlie asked. “Why is it such an emergency?”
“Because they may send you somewhere any time to fight, and we won’t see you again before some long time.”
“They won’t send me anywhere to fight,” Charlie said with certitude, “I’m too young.”
“They don’t care about that!”
Charlie kept silent for a short moment. “You could be right,” he finally said.
“Please tell me more.”
“Just watch films and documentaries on TV.”
“I wanna hear from you.”
“Okay…” he sighed, starting to tell her more.
He did it with some pride, in some need to show the usefulness of being a soldier at the age of 16.
Charlie had quit high school and joined the US Army three months earlier, voluntarily. Of course he’d done it without even suspecting he would be the youngest person to do so. He’d done it for a good first reason, after a failed terrorist attack on American soil, in California. He’d been so suddenly scared and concerned for the security of his beloved nation and fellow citizens that he’d decided to make a big change in his life. The day after he’d seen a commercial on TV, advertising the merits of being a soldier and making a difference for the United States of America. And he hadn’t hesitated one more second. His parents had agreed right away – even if they hadn’t hidden their surprise – and always encouraged him, especially Tim who was a chief fireman, taking huge personal risks every day to keep his fellow citizens safe, and who was keeping saying to his son that the fires he was paid for controlling, could be started only by people outside the United States, especially from the Middle East. Which was a lie, less innocent than he thought it would be.
Joining the US Army hadn’t been easy of course, because of Charlie’s very young age, but Tim had always been there to bring weight. After multiple physical and mental and moral and psychological tests the army had finally accepted Charlie as a soldier, about to serve for the security and strength of the United States of America.
As he was taking his sister to school and telling her about being a soldier and going through a drill, he was on his way to get back to the barracks he was sent to in the first place.
“So? How was it?” he asked after he finished explaining.
“I didn’t get anything,” Kathy said.
“Of course. I told you you wouldn’t understand.”
“You get confused when you come to explain things to people.”
“I don’t get confused. You’re the one who’s too young and… anyway, here we are.”
They were in front of the school all right.
“Thanks, Charlie.”
“If they send me somewhere to fight before the next time I’m supposed to get back, I’ll send you a postcard.”
“I can’t wait for it.”
“You’re so silly.”
They hugged each other, laughing.
“Be a good girl.”
“I will.”
They separated and she walked to the entrance gate. When she got there, she turned to Charlie and sent him a goodbye kiss. He sent it back to her and she started walking through the school yard.