This story is loosely based on a real event. I dedicate it to one of my best friends and shipmates. All characters are 18. This story does involve incest and mentions rape. If these topics trigger you, please move on. If you or anyone you know is suffering with mental issues, PLEASE SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP! There is almost nothing that can't be fixed! Also, take time to thank anyone you meet that has served this country and stood the watch. Also, leave comments with a name! THX DBO!
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The blare of my alarm clock shook me from my slumber. The infernal machine was irritating me to no end. With one eye open, I slapped the plastic disruptor, quieting the noise box. Standing, I padded my tired bones to the bathroom for my first whizz of the day. Washing my hands and brushing my teeth, my next stop was to the kitchen. My body was in desperate need of caffeine. Opening the fridge, I stared at the empty container.
"Shit." I spit.
This was shaping up to be the worst month in my entire life. It all started on a wind swept morning, the sound of the air slashing against my window arousing me before my alarm clock. Only to be greeted with an empty bed. The phone call from my ex-girlfriend Rhonda saying she "needed space..." or whatever the fuck that meant. If it hadn't been for the male voice chuckling in the background, I might have fought to keep her. Instead, my morning was spent chucking her crap into 6 plastic garbage bags and throwing them out in the hall of my apartment building. Not giving two shits if she picked them up or they got taken by some Nair-do-wells that lived there. The next bit of bad news came at the luncheon at work. We were all told that the start-up tech company that so many of us had put our blood, sweat, tears, long hours and short breaks into, had been sold off by that no-good ass boss of ours Todd. The bastard didn't even have the common decency to let us know that the new company wasn't keeping anyone on, outside of upper management, because the offices were being moved to San Diego. Instead, Karen (the beached whale), was given the task of telling everyone they had been fired by close of business.
Yet, all that would have been palatable compared to the final phone call I got as I sat at my computer working my side-gig to keep my bills paid for the month.
"I regret to inform you, that your brother; Staff Sergeant Bruce Wallace, was found deceased this morning in Hanover Park. Because you are listed as his next of kin...blah, blah, blah"
I found myself looking at an empty refrigerator. My body working on the auto pilot of trying to produce my morning coffee, to jumpstart my brain. The plastic jug that held my grounds was practically empty. Only filled with a half teaspoon. Not enough to make a cup of instamatic sludge, much less a pot of good brew to get the day started. Walking to the pantry, I looked in my Hot Cocoa can. Also, empty. Rhonda emptied it before she went to suck some other motha'fucka's dick (the thirsty bitch). With no other alternative, I grabbed the last hot tea bag I had, and hoped it would be enough. I put a pot of water on the stove before I sat at my computer.
Logging in, I first checked my email account to see if I had any hits on my resumes. Not so surprisingly, other than spam mail, nothing so far. My next search was to the unemployment site. I would have been more shocked if it came back "approved." Yet, like yesterday, the screen only blazed the word; "Pending." Running my hand over my hair, I was about ready to scream, when the shrill tone of my phone stabbed through the fog of my sleep addled brain. Striding to my bedroom I picked up my phone and froze. My heart skipping several beats. The caller ID on the screen reading; "Bruce BB." I dropped the machine as I couldn't comprehend how I was getting a call from my dead big brother. I was just at his funeral last week. The sounds of the 11-gun salute still ringing in my ears. Upon hitting the floor, my phone went silent. I shook my head as the bang it made cut through the memory. Picking it up, I slapped my head. The damn screen was cracked all the way across.
"Smooth Franklin. Real smooth. Another stupid thing to have to fix."
I had just put the phone in the pocket of my pajama pants when the altered ring and vibration startled me. Again, the ID came up "Bruce." Immediately, a host of tv shows popped in my head, where people had been contacted from the other side in various ways. I wondered if I answered it, would the ghostly sound of my beloved dead brother's voice come through to tell me "he was okay" or "I miss you bro?" On the last ring, I punched the answer key. Awaiting what would happen next.
A string of unintelligible Spanish rushed over the line. I had to hold the phone away from my ear it was so loud. "Hello?! Helllllloooo?!" I shouted.
"Franky?! Franky?!!" Came the distraught voice. "Are you there Franky?!!"
Though it took my sleep addled, caffeine deprived mind a second, my brain kicked into gear hearing the feminine sound of panic. Now it made sense. I forgot all about my brother's wife, Dominique.
"Yeah...I'm here. Where's the fire?!"
"AI DOS MIO!! NO FIRE!! HELP ME POR FAVOR!!
"What's going on?!"
"There's water everywhere!!"
"OK...don't panic, I'll be right over!!"
Punching the end call button, I frantically dressed in the t-shirt and jeans I had on the night before. Last stop was to my hall closet to grab my bag of tools, my car keys off the hook in the living room, and out the door. As I drove to my brother's old house, my mind raced back 6 years ago to when I first met Dominique.
I was in the Navy, stationed on the USS Cape St. George out of San Diego. We were just pulling in from our 6-month Westpac. The pier was overflowing with family, friends and loved ones for the returning sailors. I wasn't expecting anyone to show up. The last I heard; Bruce was still stationed at Port Hueneme. Mom and Dad still lived in Virginia, and my last girlfriend transferred to Norfolk a full year ago. Walking off the prow, a sea bag of dirty clothes over my shoulder, I heard my name being shouted above the din of the collective throng. From out of nowhere, Bruce wrapped me in the biggest bear hug ever! His strong squeeze curving the 3 rows of ribbons on my summer white uniform.
"Bruce!" I said in utter surprise. "What are you doing here?!"
"Came to see you come in Big guy! Annnnnnndddd..."
Pointing his hand in the direction of a huge sign with my name on it, the sign dropped to show one of the most beautiful (and exotic) faces I had ever seen. An angelic, oval face framed by the longest, curliest, most luxurious, past shoulder length mane of black hair I had ever seen. Her big, round, brown eyes just drew you in. Her impish smile reminded you of unicorns and Menudo posters. All stacked atop a frame that couldn't have been taller than 5,4"-5,6" in heels. If I didn't know my brother any better, I would say he should be arrested for trolling the local high schools!
"This...is my new wife. Dominique."
My mouth dropped open (what else did you expect me to do). Not only had my beloved big brother come to claim me from my ship and my lonely existence. But he was showing off his NEW, YOUNG, SMOKING HOT WIFE to boot!
"Hi." I said extending my hand.
She smiled nervously as her hand touched mine. A slight bolt of electricity shocking us as we touched. "Hola. It's nice to meet you Franklin." Her English was clipped. Doused in a heavy Spanish accent.
