Fortunate Snoot
Chapter 3
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Fang, Anon, Trish, and Reed stood to attention, along with all the 57th Medical Detachment stationed at Tan Son Nhut and their escort gunship crews. Major Charles L Skelly addressed them. Bone-thin and gaunt, the caveman’s return to lead the detachment was jokingly rumored to be as much voodoo as medical science.
“The following crews will step forward when named and gather their belongings when dismissed. Heli commanders, report for a briefing at 1000 hours; the rest of you, prepare for a flight to Soc Trang. VVURM DRAMA, Hanasaki. Walkup, Over Yonder. Doctordoctor, Foetal Position...” He walked down the line naming pairs of names, five medevac and five gunship crews.
Dismissed, the lot of them headed off towards the barracks. Trish booted a rat away from her feet with a grimace.
“Harsh, man” said Reed, and yawned.
“Something keep you up?” said Fang innocently.
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Something green and into tarot readings?”
“A true bro keeps one eye out for future brodowns” intoned Reed, blushing slightly.
Fang cackled and swung open the barracks door.
Behind them, Anon eyed Trish as her emotional compass swung from shocked, to devastated, to aroused, back to shocked, and settled into an even sourer look than usual.
“Stop checking out Trish’s fat ass and give me a hand with my kit, Anon” snipped Fang.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Anon quickly packed Fang’s uniforms into her duffel bag as she hauled them onto the double bed, then switched over to pulling out his own uniform as she packed. Across the barracks, Reed and Trish worked independently and a good deal slower on their single beds. Fang reverently strapped her guitar case closed, then lay on the bed for a moment with her eyes closed.
“UUUGGGhhhhhhhhh, time for this briefing.” She pushed off the bed and walked out the door.
Anon walked over to Reed and the two of them quickly finished stuffing his lightly creased uniforms away, an unobtrusive plastic-wrapped package nestled under layers of protective khaki fabric. One pink fist-bump, and Reed sauntered out the door in search of somewhere to take a nap.
Anon turned finally to Trish. She wordlessly handed him clothing and knickknacks and he packed it away. She yanked the zipper shut, and the two of them began carting duffel bags outside as she finally opened her mouth.
“You must think I’m an idiot.”
Anon, having long since learnt his lesson, stayed quiet.
“All these years and he still just walks out like that. If you or Fang were packing, he’d be there in a flash.” She looked down.
Anon risked an “mmmm.”
“I’m Trish, I’m the hardass, I’m the crew chief, I’m the business manager, I’m the one who sorts shit out. Trish never needs help.” She chokes. “Trish never hesitates. Trish never waits around for her year-long crush to make a move until he fucks the airbase weeb.”
She threw her arms around Anon, who was diligently keeping his mouth shut with an expression of dawning horror. “I let him go, Anon. The one thing in life I didn’t fight for, didn’t bloody my knuckles to get, the one time I trusted someone else and waited, and he’s gone. He’s gone.”
She broke down sobbing and Anon gently maneuvered her down to sit on the edge of the bed, his arm around her. He hoverhanded for a second, until compelled to rub her shoulder by the mental image of Principal Spears roaring at him.
“¡No te puedo creer!” shouted Rosa, walking past outside the barracks door. Trish looked up at the lime-green stego walking beside her, eyes full of hate.