*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
*.*.*
In boot camp, Hunter had been handed a sheet of paper that listed his choices of assignments in the US Marine Corps. Hunter had the wherewithal to notice, as Drill sergeant Mickelson roused the sleep-deprived recruits and screamed them through a series of excercizes, drills, runs, and other grueling tasks, there was a group of people that had already been awake for hours, preparing their food. And after the recruits had shoveled the unappetizing slop down, that same group of people cleaned those massive pots and pans, cleaned the trays and utensils, then prepared their mid-day meal. After the mid-day meal was choked down, those same people cleaned everything and prepared the evening meal. Then they cleaned everything. Only to do the same thing again the next day.
So Hunter did not check 'Food Preparation' as one of his choices. He knew how to look up pornography, even if James Conway High School supposedly had a block on access to such sites, so checked 'Computers' as one choice. Driving was also something he'd learned so checked that box as well. Inventory Control sounded fairly easy, so Hunter also checked that box.
Someone in the office obviously knew that Hunter was only kidding when he neglected to check 'Food Preparation' as his top choice of assignments. Electing not to leave base after completing boot camp, Hunter was rotated directly from boot camp to basics training, where he was taught the finer art of military cuisine.
After completing Basics, Hunter and Patrick Fowler, a fellow Marine that had also been rotated to Food Prep, even though Patrick had not checked the box, took leave and went down to Bender, Florida. Hunter and Patrick did their best to fuck every woman that smiled at them, did their best to drink every bar dry, then congratulated one another on a successful leave. Hell, it must have been successful; they couldn't remember a thing they'd done.
From base, they were given battle gear and shipped into the very bowels of Hell. Iraq was as inhospitable a place as had ever existed. The people were hostile. Their interpreters were hostile; half the time they couldn't be trusted and their translations were often suspect. Their fellow Marines, nerves frazzled by constant hours of boredom interrupted by hellish firefights were prone to lash out at one another. Jokesters and pranksters very quickly learned, no one had a sense of humor.
Even the location and the climate was hostile. Hunter learned to shave everything; insects seemed to love a hairy armpit or hairy crotch to burrow into. Sand got into everything, even the food.
"Middle east, my ass," Hunter complained, scrubbing out yet another pot. "Middle Hell, more like."
"You know, Davis, you been bitching ever since you got here," Sergeant Buddy Greene said. "Hell, I didn't know better, I'd think you wasn't happy to be here, Davis."
"Now, what the fuck gave you such a crazy idea?" Hunter asked, grabbing another pot.
Hunter had kept up with his family through emails. Donald and Donna Davis did not have computers, and would not pay for Chantilly, Swan, Forrest or Fawn to have cell phones. But Willow and Chance Brown denied Soleil nothing and Soleil had a computer in her bedroom. Soleil and Swan emailed Hunter daily and kept him abreast of everything in Lowenburg, Arkansas.
Violet Meynard had indeed been pregnant and Tricky Rick Hill had been the rifle that hit the magic duck. After being bailed out on the aggravated battery complaint filed by Violet, Rick had skipped town for parts unknown. At present, there was a warrant out for his arrest.
Chantilly worked at the Lowen Bag Factory, worked alongside her father in packing. Lacy Adams, their cousin, also worked at the factory, worked in the office with Milton Evans.
"Chantilly says Lacy's fucking Milton," Swan disclosed.
"She is her mother's child," Hunter muttered as he thought of their red headed cousin.
Quincy Adams was serving out a twenty four month sentence in Pendleton, the medium security penitentiary in Lowen County. What his crime was became more and more convoluted depending on who told the story. But Aunt Vicky, Aunt Linda and Donna all seemed to believe that Quincy's arrest, trial, and sentencing were all racially motivated.
"Oh, I'm sure it's not," Hunter smirked. "Ass hole's been a bully all his life and Mommy let him get away with it all his life. Welcome to the real world, cousin. People won't put up with your shit."
Soleil had let Fawn use the computer and Hunter felt the sting of tears as his thirteen year old sister told him she loved him. Fawn typed that she prayed every night that God's angels protect Hunter, and every morning, when she got up, she told God's angels 'thank you' for keeping Hunter safe. She had looked it up and she knew that Hunter was seven hours ahead, so when she was going to sleep, he was probably getting up and when she got up, he was probably going to sleep.
Soleil sent Hunter a solo email, declaring her undying love for him. Hunter smirked; he knew the beautiful girl had a bit of a crush on him. He chalked it up to teenaged infatuation.
Soleil's next email continued the message of undying love for Hunter, and also included attachments. The attached photos showed that Chantilly was looking more and more like her father each day. Swan and Soleil's school pictures showed that both girls were beautiful. Actually, both girls were stunning. Their pale features and long strawberry blonde hair and startling blue gray eyes were just part of the beauty. Their wide smiles also displayed their inner beauty as well. Poor Fawn suffered the curse of many red heads; her pale face was covered by numerous orange freckles, but her smile was a beautiful, happy smile. Forrest looked the same, just a little heavier.
"The Marines is like a blow job," Buddy Greene quipped a few days before he was set to rotate out. "The closer you are to discharge? The happier you get."
"Fuck you, Greene," Hunter said, shaking his head. "Since you've never had a blow job, oh, at least, not from a girl, you probably just heard that somewhere."
"What the fuck ever, Davis," Buddy laughed and the two men slapped each other affectionately.
"Seriously, you get out? Need to come see me," Buddy said. "I mean, ain't shit to do in Gratchley, unless you work at the brewery, but man! Myndee's only couple minutes away. All that college pussy? Aw. Yeah!"
"College pussy?" Hunter mock-goggled. "They any better than my five sisters and nine cousins?"
"I just ate, Davis," another Marine laughed. "Thought of you doing anyone is enough make me sick."
Buddy extended the invitation to Patrick Fowler as well. Patrick put an arm around Hunter's waist, leaned his head on Hunter's shoulder and lisped that he and 'Baby' would be happy to come see Buddy.
"Fuck, get off me, homo," Hunter said and he and Patrick laughed.
"I'm being serious; y'all got come see me," Buddy said and lay down on his bunk.
Soleil and Swan emailed Hunter their Prom pictures. Hunter thought both girls looked incredible, even though he was sure Swan's dress had been made by Aunt Vickie. The dresses were in the colors of James Conway High School colors; navy blue and Kelly green.
Hunter hated both smirking boys that stood with his sister and her twin. The almost mocking looks the two boys wore and their arrogant postures seemed to suggest that both boys expected those beautiful dresses to be hiked up to just under the throats of the two girls as they fucked Swan and Soleil in the rear of the limousine.
Hunter smirked at the two preening Lotharios; Swan and Soleil were holding each other's hands, ignoring the two boys. He hoped the two boys had spent a lot of money on the tuxedos, the restaurant, the limousine, the flowers. He hoped they spent their entire savings, only to wind up with blue balls.
Hunter sent the girls a quick reply; telling them they looked beautiful in their dresses; he wished he could have been there. Then he signed out of his email account, shook his head trying to ward off the incredible loneliness that engulfed him and hustled to start his duties.
"Which hand you use to jerk off?" Sergeant Kelly asked. "Whatever hand it is? Use the other hand to stir them beans. Don't want none your jizz in my food, Davis."
"Uh huh," Hunter said.
The man was new to this post and seemed hell-bent on making each and every person in his unit hate him. He was off to a good start, in the eyes of Hunter and Patrick.
"Heard me, Davis?" Todd Kelly snapped, seeming to want a fight with Hunter.
"I heard you; but since I used Jimmy's hand, it's all good," Hunter said.
"Aw, fuck you, Davis," Jimmy called out from his position at the sink.
"Well, that's how we usually start," Hunter said and Jimmy shook his head, laughing.
