Soria Girl

So Dad said he was retiring. That was pretty clear. He’d spent 20 years in the navy. He had to stop sometime.

I wonder how long it took him to decide to retire. That’s gotta be a pretty big thing, I mean, retiring? Dude. A sailor’s gotta sail, right? Why the crap would we move…and then tell me he was dropping the thing that made us move?

It made no sense.

Now, I ain’t saying I hated it. Shit, I loved it! Maybe I could stay in place for a while and actually build some relationships! Maybe Santa Monica could become the new Claymore…nah! I used to think like that, actually. Hopeful. But with these new waves pushing Mike and Aliyah away (there’s a pun in there), I think I’d finally come to terms with it all. Yay. That meant no more emo days. I’d had too many of those.

The navy was a huge part of Dad’s life, no doubt about that. But sometimes people overlook a sailor’s kid. I mean, yeah, it’s tough for somebody to be away from their kid and wife for such a long time – especially if they’re young. At the same time, they discount the impact that military may have on a navy brat. Like me.

I don’t really know what to think about all of those issues like war and killing people across the globe and crap. On one hand, yeah, I think it’s bad and everything – who the hell wouldn’t? I know Dad and Travis don’t like having to go through that crap. My Dad was starting out in the navy when the Gulf War was going on and had that stuff to carry over his head for the rest of his life. Travis never was in the heart of the action in Iraq and Afghanistan and junk, and he’d wanted to fight on the front lines, but he came from such a normal life that it had to upset him somehow that he was a part of all of that madness.

And me? Well, I was sort of in the middle of it all. I lived under the roof of a sailor and I had to deal with Dad not being there for my first or second birthdays. I had to deal with him raising me even though he was only there for my birth and when I was four on. I saw him fumble about with different sects of the navy trying to find a part that wouldn’t require him to move all over the world and be away for months at a time. He’d gone out of his way to find a niche like that and he finally succeeded when he got a good job working maintenance on the ships and planes used by the navy and air force.

Travis was gone when I left for Claymore. I remember being really heartsick when Dad told me we were leaving Santa Monica and I’d written him tons of letters when he got stationed in Europe. When I said I was leaving California, he told me to keep my head up, and I did – I’m not really an optimistic person by nature, but the things Travis always said to me were things that I’d take to heart just to make him proud. He was a hero to me, right along with my dad.

As far as I was concerned, if what they were doing was making them happy, I didn’t mind it. If they were defending their home and putting their lives on the line, more power to them. If they stayed away for months at a time, maybe even years – Travis was gone when I needed him most – it might hurt for me. But I could look past that. I wised up after a while and realized that they wanted to do it and I didn’t have a say in it.

Dad never brought the issue of war or politics to the dinner table or anything like that, either. I didn’t know a lot about his or Travis’s politics and I liked that. I didn’t care about political stuff and as far as I knew, all talking about it did was cause arguments. I didn’t like war and I didn’t like people dying, nor was I really cool with the idea of killing people to save people from being killed. I didn’t talk to my dad about it much. I never asked him if he ever killed anybody (I didn’t even know if navy dudes could do that) or what it was like to be caught in a war knowing that you might not make it back. I didn’t ask Travis about it either. I guess I didn’t want to know. Maybe too many people in my life had died already and I didn’t want the thought of more loved ones croaking.

The military was a big part of my life. I was a navy brat and had two men in my world serving the country. And even though we didn’t have the news on all the time in our house, and even though Dad didn’t spout his political viewpoints all over the place, I took a quiet stance on it all.

I supported the troops and all, but I didn’t like war. It took too many lives and too many homes and made kids at home wonder where their mommies and daddies were. And even though becoming a soldier was voluntary at that time, a part of me said that they didn’t really want to die – nobody does. But they ignore the nay saying and carry on anyway. I wish I could do that with my life but I was stuck dwelling on crap in the past and getting shaken with things that normal people simply do not face.

So sometimes I hated it all – the army, the navy, marines, whatever. It made me heartsick wondering about all the other tons of girls like me stuck as navy brats, having to move right when they don’t want to. But at the same time it was a little surreal, having my dad be a part of something that was so highly regarded and looked down upon at the same time. He was my hero – Travis too – and nothing could change that. Not even my bratty little self who was still mad about moving to and from Claymore.

Dad had told me that the retiring ceremony would be the next Friday. I’d be missing school. It’d be on this old retired navy ship that we’d have to board in order to hold the ceremony – it was inside the ship, inside the main room. Then my Dad would do a speech, we’d socialize for a while, and then go back home and point and laugh at all the landlubber kids who’d still be in school.

Turns out, I’d have to wear a dress. Seriously! Dude, it sucked. I hated not wearing pants. But if it meant making Dad happy when he retired, it was worth it.

The day of the ceremony, Dad and I rode the truck out to the naval base super early (it was in San Diego) and watched as crowds gathered to honor my father, Zachary Atkinson, in all his uniformed glory. It was mostly just a bunch of his old navy buddies – old guys with receding hairlines. No people my age – either toddlers, or kids who were four years older. You’d think they’d take into consideration the fact that the retiree had a thirteen-well-almost-fourteen-year-old-daughter.

Dad had to go off and get ready for a big speech, leaving me in the hands of his old crew, led by a guy named Chief Daniels, a crusty old guy who spoke like he was still in charge. The rest of them were as old as my dad, and they were all in their uniforms. I’d met them before, several times.

We had to sit in predetermined rows with our names in the seats; mine was in the very front, the first from the left after Dad’s seat. He was behind the scenes, practicing his speech or whatever he was doing. After me came the navy buddies, since they were, like, official and all that jazz.

For the longest time I sat alone, both listening to outside conversations and drowning them out. It was too early in the morning for me to really care. Plus, I didn’t know anybody. Mostly, there were just various questions flashing around in my head – now what? I mean, what’s Dad gonna do now for a job?

Somebody elbowed me – one of Dad’s coworkers. Another old fart. He winked at me. “Bet you fifty bucks your old man starts crying,” he smirked.

I forced a laugh. If he started crying…oh, man. Awk-ward. The last time I saw him seriously cry was when I was four. (That incident in Jacksonville at the beginning of this story didn’t count.) What do you do when a grown man is shedding more tears than his daughter?

After a while the conversations died down and things became serious business. A few people were up front at a man-made stage, shuffling and adjusting microphones and such.

“Excuse me,” one dude said into a mic. Everybody jerked at attention. “How is everybody?”

I was silent when everybody gave a mixed answer.

“Today we’re honoring First Class Petty Officer Zachary Atkinson on behalf of his retirement,” he went on at the voices died down. “After serving twenty years in the United States Navy, he’s decided to take a break. Now why?” The man smiled. “I don’t know. But he’s gonna tell us why here.”

And he stepped away from the podium, cuing applause as my father marched up to the stage in his oh-so-familiar navy uniform. He looked proud. He looked confident. Like he knew he was the man.

And for the first time in a little while, he looked like a hero to me.

I idolized him.

Dad smiled at me first, then beamed at the rest of the modest crowd. Even if the bill of his hat blocked out his eyes, I could still see them shine a brilliant blue.

God…why was I such a fucking brat?

I mean, really. Why had I been so pissed off at my own dad? Man, back a few months up and I couldn’t even look him in the eye. And now when he was up there in his uniform I could look my father in the eye and really, really, see something. He loves me.

Honestly, even I didn’t know why he retired. I knew he loved the sea and the life of a sailor. I guess he was just getting old. Everybody gets old…

“G’morning,” he boasted into the microphone, his smile wider than I’d ever seen it. He gripped the podium tightly with both hands. “It’s been an amazing twenty years, but…” he trailed off.

The guy next to me elbowed me. “Here it comes.”

The crowd teased him lovingly as he wiped an eye. “My time in the military has come to a close.” Dad had the most melancholy grin I’d ever laid my eyes upon; he sighed, then looked at me and kept his chin up. “It’s been the best twenty years of my life, I mean, I don’t wanna quit. This experience has changed my life. I’ve met people who’ve changed the way I think. I’ve seen things that have given me nightmares.”

He shuddered, biting his lip, looking away for a second. His face turned bright red.

“But I’m pushin’ forty-four, guys. I go any more and I’ll break a hip.”

Laughs echoed – weak laughs. I smiled.

Dad got on his solemn face again. “I had to quit sometime. And there are a lot of reasons why I’m retiring. My daughter, for one thing – Soria; she’s in the front row here…and that whole ‘getting old’ thing.” I smiled a little bit as he mentioned my name, feeling eyes on me.

“I owe a lot of this to Soria, in fact,” he went on. “Ever since the day she was born…my priorities had changed. She became my life, my world. I love her.”

A chill went up my spine, a fuzzy feeling erupting in my stomach. All of a sudden I smiled.

“And then…my wife was shot, and…then I realized that my life had taken a drastic change. I couldn’t go out to sea anymore without leaving her with neighbors or family, which I wasn’t comfortable doing. I couldn’t take her out on the ship with me. I had to slow down. I had missed out on a lot of her childhood. I had to be there for her since she was only four. And now, ten years later, I realize that I’ve still missed out on a lot.”

He paused.

“And Soria, I’m sorry. I can’t make up for that. But this can be a new beginning. Serving a lot less away time, I’ve still been occupied with the navy and I’ve still not really been there for you. I feel like we’re not as connected as we could be, and that’s my fault.”

I swallowed a lump rising in my throat as his voice began shaking.

“We just recently moved back here, and it’s been rough. Now as most of you know we had lived in Florida last year, and…let me just say that all of this moving has been hard on both of us. And I’m retiring because I want no more stress on either of us. Because if she’s stressed, then I’m stressed. I’m 30 years older than her and neither of us needs that.”

He smiled directly at me. I beamed back.

“With this retirement I hope to put an end to this chaos. I don’t want her to feel like she’s constantly ending friendships because of me. And God knows she’s put me through hell letting me know that.”

I smirked, aware of my own fuck-ups.

“Now, I’ve had an amazing time in the navy. Those of you who’ve worked with me know that.” The group of people sitting next to me laughed. “It’s been a blast traveling all over the world with you guys. And maybe I’ll win the lottery and take all of you on a trip around the world,” he chuckled. “Or maybe your band can hit it big and make us some money, Soria.”

I smiled at him, a pang in my heart from him hitting me in a soft spot. Like, a really soft spot.

“And…as a matter of fact, Soria, I’ve got something to tell you,” he added, smiling again. Then he took a deep breath.

I jut sat below him, brow furrowed, absolutely perplexed at this sudden twist.

“We’re moving back to Claymore.”

My heart skipped a beat as soon as the word “moving” rolled off the tongue. And when he completed his sentence, man, I had a smile so wide it rocked the boat. I couldn’t fucking believe it. It had to be a dream.

People went wild, a mix of sadness and shock within the crowd. As for me, I just covered my mouth and felt every muscle in my body tense up. I could have pissed my non-existent pants!

“Really?!” I yelled, doubling over in my seat. I couldn’t walk. It was too unreal.

Dad nodded right at me and walked off from his stage, bidding farewell to the navy, coming over to me to give me a huge-ass hug that let me know it was most definitely real.

Real life was something I’d lost touch with. Until now I’d been coasting on hopes that I’d see Claymore once more. Before that I’d been hoping that I’d see Santa Monica again. And before that, I’d dreamed of marrying Chuck Ragan.

It was like, hey, real life. It’s nice to see ya again.