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Author's note:
Thank you to all who have patiently (or not so) waited for this long overdue chapter. There's a more detailed explanation in the author's note in chapter 3 of "Old Wounds", but basically life got crazy and I lost a little bit of motivation, but after a way too long hiatus, I'm back!
All feedback is welcome feedback so let me hear it! Reading your comments is the best part of doing this.
I went back and re read this story, and honestly, between everything that's gone on in my life form then until now, and all the times that's passed, I can't even believe I wrote it! It was like reading a story for the first time. It definitely felt a little weird. I found myself rooting for James and Ally all over again. Oh what I wouldn't give to feel that again. I know many of y'all have had that feeling before, and I feel proud to have slightly captured that in this story. If this continuation feels like a different vibe, I sincerely apologize, since I myself have changed since the last installment, though I tried to keep the same tone and pace.
P.S, some of this might not be entirely military accurate, I may or may not have changed some regulations and/ or protocol for the sake of the story, so for those of you who know the differences, try to play along ;)!
Once again thank you so much to my readers!
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Ch. 7
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With his all too short leave over, and his family and friends headed home, James sat alone in the lobby of the hotel they'd stayed at, just killing time until it was time to catch a cab and report to reception at 15:00 for formation and in processing. (Forgive me if this next part isn't entirely how going from basic to AIT works, I actually really don't remember the gap in between or how I physically got from one to the other. It was all a blur).
He wasn't sure why he couldn't just report straight to the unit. He was at a hotel on Leonard Wood, and his AIT was on Leonard Wood. Wouldn't it just make sense to be at that unit when he was told to be? The Army still didn't make sense to him, and he figured it never would.
Instead, he had to go back to the hell that was reception, since that's where the soldiers that were coming from other Installations would be funneled in to. So, catching a cab, James made his way towards that dreadful building, only the comfort of knowing he already went through basic, and the vast majority of soldiers there, would not have.
He unloaded his gear from the cab and humped it through the doors of the both familiar and forgotten building, heading towards the main incoming room he could barely remember even though it was only just over 9 weeks ago.
Sparing you from the details of reception once more, James loaded his gear into the back of an LMTV and got hearded into the "cattle trucks" as they were called. Semi trucks with trailers that has seats like a bus in the back, designed to physically cram as many humans inside of it as possible. Then, it was the short trip over to Bravo Company, 1 of 3 88M (truck driver) training units on post.
James had long heard, both from fellow soldiers at basic and from recruiters, that AIT was a breeze. No more drill sergeants, much less getting smoked, and all around an easier atmosphere. He hoped everyone was right.
They weren't. Apparently AIT had started going back towards using drill sergeants a cycle or 2 before him, so when he finally got free of the cattle car and ushered into a formation outside the building by namesless sergeants, James was utterly disappointed to see a soldier in a funny brown hat start screaming at them... "oh hell," he thought to himself. "This shit again."
They got the absolute shit smoked out of them. Worse than anything at basic. He guessed it was to ensure them that their hell wasn't over just yet...
This was going to be just peachy...
**
After those first few days it actually did get easier. Less smoking, less yelling, lighter mood, all that fun stuff. Oh it still happened, just less. Marginally.
Once the routine of training once again set in, James got in his rhythm, soaking in all the information about the trucks and tips for operating them he could. He wasn't top of the class or anything, especially not with soldiers who were actual truck drivers before they joined up, but he wasn't really struggling at all with anything they taught. If it had a steering wheel and pedals he could drive it.
AIT went by mainly without a hitch. He enjoyed the new freedoms such as Saturday passes to explore post and nightly access to a phone in the common room to call home. He only ever called anyone but Ally once or twice a week, and that's because he knew his mother would kill him if she didn't get to hear from him.
Before he knew it James had once again graduated, this time meaning he was no longer a trainee, but an actual qualified soldier, however green he may be.
After the ceremony James shook hands with his buddies, promising to keep in touch, got the obligatory congratulations from his Drill Sergeants and instructors, and loaded himself and his gear on the bus that would take him to the St. Louis Airport, and eventually home.
He had a surprise for everyone there.
**
He'd confided in Jackson he was coming home for a while since he figured he was the least likely to blab to everyone. James' flight didn't get in until around 9 at night after a slew of delays in Chicago, so when he strolled out of the terminal and into Jackson's truck, he asked his buddy if they could change the plans.
"Think we could just go crash at your house tonight and surprise everyone tomorrow?" James asked, the effects of a long day of travel paired with an early wake up heavy in his voice.
"What for?" Jackson asked, oblivious to the exhaustion in his voice.
"It's too late to surprise everyone, they're all probably home getting ready for bed."
"Actually," Jackson began, a smile creeping to his lips. "Everyone's at your place."
"My place? Why? Did you fucking tell them?" James shot back in mock anger, knowing it wasn't really a big deal, he just figured a surprise would be cool.
"No no nothing like that!" Jackson defended with a laugh, "your parents threw a little bonfire party tonight. It's your graduation day and they figured if they couldn't celebrate with you, they'd celebrate for you, so they invited all the knuckleheads and Ally's parents over."
"Well doesn't that work out fuckin mint!" James chuckled, "aren't they suspicious you aren't there?"
"Everyone knows I come and go as I please man," he began. "Plus I said I'd be late. Told them I had to help my uncle with some bullshit out in Shittsville."
Shittsville is what they called the town two towns over. It was about a 45 minute drive. The entire place smelled like shit since there was a pickle factory there, and also because they were their schools biggest rivals.
"Ah you're a sneaky little bastard aren't ya?" James laughed.
After a short while Jackson made the turn off the dirt road into James' dirt driveway, and headed towards the barn out back.
"I'll park along Donn's truck so nobody can see ya get out," Jackson offered. "But I doubt it'll matter since they're all in the barn."
A few seconds later Jackson put the truck in park and killed the engine. His truck wasn't a diesel and they could hear music and laughter coming from the barn, so James figured nobody had heard them pull up since the last hundred yards or so was all grass, rendering the truck almost silent.
Making their way to the door, Jackson paused before opening it so James could get to the other side of it so nobody would see him.
"What's up y'all!" Jackson yelled as he pushed the door open, "better late than never!"
"Come grab a beer and take a load off man!" Donny called back.
"Oh hell yea!" Jackson answered before adding, "one sec I gotta grab somethin from the truck."
As Jackson stepped out of the door, James stepped in, curious to see how long it would take someone to notice his arrival.
If he'd have bet anything over a second he'd have lost his money.
"OH MY GOD JAMES!" Ally yelled as she sprinted towards him, dropping her beer bottle with an audible clank on the concrete.
Everyone turned to see what the sudden outburst and commotion was and all seemed to echo some version of Ally's previous exclamation.
Before James could say anything in return his arms were full of his firey hot girlfriend and his lips covered with hers, locked in a kiss full of 6 weeks of backed up passion and longing.
It's as if the whole world stopped for James. If he'd had a single doubt about her love for him, or his for her, it would have evaporated in that moment. Never in his life did he think a kiss could make him feel like that. Like his entire being was dependent on her. Like time stood still. Like the only two people in the universe was her and him.
After what felt like an hour he moved to break the kiss and address everyone else, only when he pulled his head back, hers seemed to follow his like they were glued together. She didn't want to let him go. Breathing be damned.
After another failed attempt he gave up and went back to kissing her just as passionately as they'd been kissing a moment prior. He suddenly didn't care about greeting anyone else.
After another few moments he felt the warmth of her mouth suddenly leave, exposing his to the sadness of the cool, lonely, summer air.
He soon realized it wasn't Ally who had broken the kiss, but his mother who apparently grew impatient and none too gently pulled her from his arms, wrapping her son up in a hug that was excruciatingly tight, yet somehow not tight enough. A hug that only a mother seemed to be capable of giving.
"My baby's home!" She sobbed happily into his shoulder, "I thought you had to go straight to your duty station after graduation?"
"I did originally, but I'm crafty," James said with a laugh. "Ma let go you're crushing me," he added.
"Become a mother and you'll know how I feel right now," she said without hesitation.
"Uh Ma, I don't think that's possible," he laughed.
"Oh shut up you know what I meant," she replied with a chuckle of her own, finally releasing her death grip on him.
"My next duty station is in town," he began, addressing everyone before continuing, "I got approved for Hometown Recruiting, which basically means I get to stay here for a month helping out the local recruiter before having to go to my first real duty station."
