Citizen Soldier

Nothing will scare you more than turning on the TV and hearing that an army base has been attacked, even if you didn't know for sure that it's your fiancé's unit yet.

I stare blankly at the screen where images flick quickly across, first showing the base and then showing pictures of the attack. 

"Last night at around five-forty PM, a US base was attacked. The attackers caught the soldiers off guard by hiding in the tall grasses surrounding the base. Currently casualties stand at fourteen dead, twenty-three injured and six of those twenty-three are in critical condition. Families are being contacted currently and the names of those soldiers will be released later today." The woman on the screen says solumly. 

I hadn't realized until it became violent that I was shaking. Millions of possibilities ran through my head but I couldn't be sure about any of them. I considered unplugging the phone so that there was no chance that I'd get a call but I quickly remember that I wouldn't be the one getting a call anyway. 

Technically John and I aren't married yet. Hell, we don't even know if we can get married because gay marriage hasn't been legalized in North Carolina yet.

As soon as I realize this I jump off the couch, spilling the bowl of cereal that was situated in my lap. I quickly throw a towel over it and stomp over the wet spot before deciding that it doesn't even matter. I'm gonna get new carpets put in before John comes home anyway. If John comes home.

I change out of my night clothes, feed our Dalmatian, and grab my keys hurriedly, rushing to get out of the house. I arrive at my destination almost half an hour later after making a few stops first. 

Before I even get a chance to knock the door swings open and a small woman gathers me into her arms and hugs me tightly. John's mama always has been a hugger and in a time like this that is exactly what I need.

"We haven't gotten a call yet." She says softly. 

I nod weakly and hold up the bags in my hands. "I brought coffee and cigarettes." 

She beams and ushers me inside. The living room is already littered with ashtrays and coffee mugs. John's father sits in his armchair, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a mug of black coffee settled in his hands.

"Hey, Rickie." He stands and sets his mug down, making his way over to me and crushing me in a hug. John certainly got his strength from his father. "How are you? We haven't seen you in a few weeks." 

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Work and stuff." I shrug. "It sucks that this is the way I come and see you."

He nods understandingly, pulls me into the room, pushes me down onto the couch, and resumes position in his chair. We stay silent for over half an hour, nobody really in the mood for either small talk or deep conversation. 

Another half hour passes and I gather the willpower to get up and make coffee. I've spent enough time here to know where everything is and that John's parents trust that I won't burn the house down. 

Once it's done I bring the pot into the living room and fill all three of our mugs before grabbing a cigarette and lighting it and inhaling slowly. The nicotine soothes my shaking hands but it doesn't steady my pounding heart. 

Smoking is a terribly nasty habit that I picked up when John left. I'm twenty-four so I can do whatever I want but I know that I'll have to quit if when he comes home. However, now is not the time to worry about that. 

Another hour passes and Johns mom turns on the news where there's more coverage of the attack. "We've just received information that the unit that was attacked is unit five-oh-"pleasedontsaysix.pleasedontsaysix.pleasedontsaysix.-six. more information will be available shortly after the soldiers families have been contacted."

Sobs break from my lips as I realize that this is really happening. Johns unit has really been attacked and there's an actual chance that he might not be alive. I feel a pair of arms wrap around me followed by another and I crush Johns parents to me, unable to fathom how they must be feeling. Yes, I love John with every fiber of my being but he's their son. 

We sit there for a good fifteen minutes just hanging onto each other as if, if we let go, we might fall apart, which isn't too far from the truth. 

Another hour passes. Two pots of coffee have been consumed. Three packs of cigarettes have been smoked. Johns younger sister comes home from school and completely breaks down when we tell her what's happened. She clings to me tightly and doesn't say a word. Not that I mind. I love Sarah and I would do anything for her. She and John grew up very close and I can see it even when he's not around. 

Another hour passes by agonizingly slow before the phone rings, the sound crisp and clear through the silence. Everyone looks at each other, nobody daring to move. Sarah's grip around my waist tightens. Johns mother let's out a sob as the phone rings for the second time. Johns father rises slowly and picks up the phone, exiting the room before answering it. 

I stand and follow him, making sure Sarah is okay with John's mom beforehand. I know that his father is a strong person but this is something that can break a man hard. 

"Hello?...Yes, this is mister Dawson....Yes, sir....." He stays quiet for a good two minutes before his face crumples and his knees give out. I'm not a very strong person but I catch him before he falls completely and we slide onto the floor together. 

The phone has been dropped and I pick it up quickly, realizing that John's father won't be able to carry on the conversation. Sarah and John's mom rush into the room, having heard the commotion of the fall. 

"Hello?" I ask with a shaky breath, looking up into the faces of my soon-to-be mother and sister. 

"Hello?" The man on the other end asks, slowly realizing that he's not talking to the same person. "Am I still speaking with Mr. Dawson?" 

"No, sir. This is Rickie Kannon." I answer.

"Mr. Kannon? Of what relation are you to Johnathan Dawson?" He asks, formally. 

"I'm his fiancé." I answer, hesitantly.
 
The man on the other end of the phone pauses for a second. "I didn't know John was....engaged." He states. I know what he meant to say. He didn't know John was gay. 

"Yes, sir." I sound more confident than I feel. 

"Well, Mr. Kannon, this is Private Meagher, Johns unit officer. I'm sure you've heard of the attack on unit five-oh-six already and I'm afraid I don't have good news." He says slowly. My heart jumps into my throat and lodges itself there. I can't breathe and the seconds tick by like hours. "Johnathan was shot at close range twice. One went clean through his shoulder and the other, well, the other is lodged deeply into the side of his stomach. We don't know if the surgeons will be able to remove it yet. He's been under for almost eight hours and it's not looking good." 

"Wh-what does this mean, sir? Is he going to be okay?" I ask, shakily. I'm surprised I could form the words without completely breaking down. 

"I'm not sure, son. He's lost an enormous amount of blood and the surgeons have only been able to stitch up one wound. If they can't find the other bullet in the next few hours he might not make it. Now, John can survive with a bullet inside him, it just depends on the location. Right now they think that it got into his bloodstream somehow and if that's the case he won't be able to survive." The officer explains solumly. "John is a strong man. He can pull through this. Our surgeons are high class. Don't give up hope, Rickie. I'll be in contact before the night is out with an update." 

"Alright," I answer meekly. "Thank you sir." As soon as the phone is off I can't hold it in any longer. I clutch onto John's dad and cry for what seems like hours. He comforts me as best as he can but I don't think I'll be truly okay until John is in my arms again. 

Sarah manages to get me back onto the couch and hugs me to her tightly. I cling to her just as tight because I really just need something to hold on to. It feels as if I'm the one who was shot. My stomach clenches and I just barely make it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach are forced from my throat. 

John's parents make Sarah leave before I tell them what's going on. The details that John's dad wasn't able to hear the first time. Now it's his moms turn to break down and I've calmed enough to comfort her. 

Another hour passes before the phone rings agin. The first bring hardly has a chance to fade before I snatch the phone from the cradle. Everyone looks at me and I answer quickly. "Hello?" 

"Mr. Kannon?" 

"Yes, this is him."

"This is Private Meagher. I have an update on Johnathan Dawson." My breath catches in my throat as I await his next words. "John is out of surgery. The surgeons were able to locate the bullet but they couldn't get it out tonight. There's another surgery scheduled for tomorrow but they're going to transfer him to an actual hospital first. It's safer there and there's less chance of infection but the bottom line is that he's going to make it." 

A weird half sob/half laugh noise escapes my lips and my soon-to-be family looks up at me hopefully. 

"John's gonna be okay." I tell them and watch the looks on their faces turn from hopeful to relieved to joyous. 

I'm crushed in the middle of a group hug where everyone is kissing and crying. "Because of his injury, John will be discharged and we're hoping to have him home with you in two weeks at the most." 

My heart soars and I can hardly believe what I've just been told. Johnny's coming home early. 

John's mom picks up a pack of cigarettes and taps a few out, offering me a celebratory cancer stick which I politely decline because, yes, now is the time to worry about quitting.