A Love Like War

"Sweetheart? Want to head to the post with me?" I shouted from my bedroom as I clipped up the suspenders to my chap pants. Bending over I scratched at the tips of my shoes with a cloth of Mike's, noticing the rotting quality of the leather. Soon I was off and out of the room, into the living room. Our housing wasn't all too large, coming from the income of two soldiers and a nurse. You'd think that a job that required risking your life would pay a little better.
"Winifred?" I asked again, hearing her muffled voice from the kitchen. There was the click of the phone being settled back into it's place and the clacking of heels on the linoleum floor.
"Aw baby, now don't you look sweet!" She drawled in her southern accent.
I had met Winnie in duty, fighting over in South Carolina. At the time she was a dame, one I fell in love with at first sight. I danced with her and swept her off her feet, and just as quickly had leapt into a relationship and had her moving back home to Olde California with myself.
"Who was on the phone?" I asked nonchalantly, turning my cheek for her to peck. I didn't want that sticky red gloss on my lips, it's taste made me ill. Winnie blushed before shrugging.
"Mama. Wanted to see if we got one of those televisions yet." She sighed, trying to pout. Winnie was one of those women with the taste for everything new. Mike and I both saw television sets as silly, when there was a perfect screen outside-- reality.
"And Mama's well? Did you want to come to the post?"
Winnie rolled her eyes. It was only a month of me home and she was already sick of me. Last night I slept like a dog on the floor, curled with a pillow on the ground because she told me my body got too rigid while I slept. Sounded like a load of bull if you had asked me, but I gave in to her wish.
"Mama's fine, just bored of her dumb life. The post makes me bored of my dumb life, Victor. Why don't you take me out? We could get a new dress?"
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Win, I got you one when I came home. I can't just pull these things outta a hat for God's sake."
"Fine then, Victor. Go have a nice day all alone, at least your brother has someone to be with. I'm going out with Margie and I'll be late." Winnie stated, getting up off the couch and sashaying her hips as if to draw attention for me but it didn't work. I hadn't that interest in her anymore, her body did me no good. Rolling my eyes I got up after the sound of a front door slam, grabbing my Father's old hat by the door and heading out.
I took in the scenery outside, the warm air making me want to peel out of my garbs and jump into the water and swim away. I sat on a bench and took in the view of families at the beach enjoying their life as much as they could. The amount of women and children alone with no man had hardened my heart and added one more tick to my list of hatred towards the war.
I tipped my hat to the ladies I passed by once I continued to walk along the pier. Some blushed and others looked away, pushing their pace forward. I reached the edge of the pier soon enough and leaned forward on the wood, overlooking the ocean. With my eyes squinted I watched the patrol USS ships roll across the horizon, always watching. I had gotten carried away into my thoughts when I heard a loud voice reach above the chaos of the pier.
"Shoe shining! Come get yer shoes shined! Got a nick, gone in a click!" A man chanted, waving his rag in the air. Passerby's looked towards the ragged boy and shrugged, looking away as they continued on. I looked down at my shoes, thinking why not?
I walked towards the boy as he sat by the foot of the shining chair, tapping beats on his kneecaps. I watched him, his strikingly raven hair folded behind one ear and covering his face on the other side. I waited a minute before clearing my throat.
"Ahem." I said, biting my lip in fear of sounding rude. The boy jumped and looked up at me, and my breath got caught in my throat.
The boy had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen, making my heart beat faster. They stood out above all of his other magnificent features, but what caught me most was the dirt and cuts across his uncovered cheek. The boy noticed me stared at untucked the section of hair before it curtained over his face.
"Good morning, sir. Interested in a shine?"
"Y-yes please." I said in a near whisper, stuttering. He gave me an old look before offering a hand.
I looked at his half tattooed bare arm, muscular and also dirty. After a moments hesitation I placed my hand in his and he helped me into the chair before sitting at my feet and lifting my legs onto a stool. He instantly got to work, leaning over and reaching for his polish. I couldn't help but notice the ripples of muscles from under his shirt and the significant cut across his upper arm, deep enough to be caused by a dagger.
"How old are you?" I asked him, surprised by my own voice. Something made me feel like I needed to know him.
"Uh, 22, sir."
"And your name?"
He paused and looked up at me, searching my face with his glistening eyes.
"Kellin, sir. Kellin Bostwick."
"As in General Bostwick? Is there a relation?" I asked, sitting forward. Why would General Bostwick's son be shining shoes?
"Uh, n-no." He said in a whisper, stuttering. I had a feeling he wasn't telling the truth but I ignored it, noting it was his personal buisness. We were silent as he worked, but I couldn't peel my eyes or mind from Kellin. Something drew me into him with every stroke of his hand, every blink of his eye. I noticed a script across his chest and wanted to ask but already felt intrusive towards the beautiful boy.
Wait. Beautiful?
"Sir, your shoes are shined." Kellin spoke, making me jump.
"Oh, I uh, uh. Yes of course." I fumbled, getting up and reaching for my wallet. I pulled out three notes and handed them over with a smile.
"No, sir. Only a dime, sir." He said, laughing at me.
"You uh...did good." I said nervous, rubbing the back of my neck. I wanted to hand him my entire wallet but felt restrained if he was against the 3 dollars.
"Oh, sir, thankyou!" He grinned, pocketing the notes. I smiled and nodded, spinning on the heel of my shoe and began to walk away with the ghost of my smile.
"Wait!" I heard Kellin's voice. Without hesitation I turned around to see him running towards me, waving his arms.
"Did I forget something?" I asked, patting my pockets.
"Uh, n-no. I just-- what's your name? And how old are you?" He asked, repeating my questions.
"I'm twenty-five, names Vic Fuentes." I smiled, digging my hands further into my pockets as my body felt more and more nervous. He smiled softly and leaned forward to rest his hand on my shoulder. His hands were somehow cold despite the aching heat and the touch seeped through the fabric of my shirt, imprinting me. He pulled away when he noticed his awkward gesture. Mumbling to himself and grimacing, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back to his booth with his head down. I wanted to go back and talk with him more but noticed the setting sun and decided it was time to go home.
The entire walk, the boy's face wouldn't escape my mind. Who gave him those scars? It wouldn't have been from the war, I've known everyone enlisted. A face and a name like that is definitely one I wouldn't forget. Had he gotten into a fight? Had he been attacked? A swelling rage inside me grew at the idea of him hurt.
What are you even thinking? I thought to myself. Men aren't to be with men.
As I walked up my driveway and wrapped my fingers around the doorknob, the reflection of a flash of headlights behind me made me stop. I let go and turned around, not noticing the car. Being curious I pressed myself up against the wall and watched as Winnie stepped out the passengers side door. I was about to call her name when she walked to the drivers side and the window rolled down.
"It was good seeing you, John." She drawled, giggling. I felt my stomach churn. Who in hell was John?
"You too tutz. And I'll be seeing you soon." John's voice replied, low and graveled. I clenched my jaw when Winnie leaned closer... and pressed their lips together. They hadn't stopped and I knew I'd seen enough and turned back around, opening the door and quietly shutting it behind me. I rested my hat on the coat hook and went to the kitchen, fixing myself a drink of whiskey and Coca Cola, a mix Mike had introduced.
I heard the door open and close behind Winnie and I clenched the glass tighter. She came in and was about to head upstairs when she heard the ice inside my glass clink. Winnie jumped and turned around.
"Victor! God damn, you terrified me!" She said, eyes wide and a hand to her chest. I gave her a sneer and set my near empty glass down before stepping towards her.
"What happened to your lipstick there, darling?" I asked innocently.
Winnie looked flushed suddenly and instantly covered her mouth. "I-I'm not sure. Margie and I got a little silly at the pier-"
"Funny, I was at the pier. Shame I didn't see ya."
Winnie gulped. "We, uh, drove to a different pier. Victor I'm tired-"
"I'm sure. You've had a busy today with good old Johnny boy." I said, tilting my head. Winnie's jaw fell to the floor and her eyes instantly began to water.
"Oh, Vic I-"
"Save it, Winifred. You better go, see if you can catch him down the road." I said quietly, going to open the door for her. Her bottom lip quivered and her shoulders sunk.
"I was going to tell you, Victor. I was, I had to! You had to know about the baby!" She shouted, tears falling from her eyes as her arms flailed.
"Baby?" I asked, my eyes widened. "You mean we're...I...."
Winnie froze in place, deer in the headlights as she was caught from the slip of her words. Why hadn't she told me sooner? How would I ever stay with her when she cheated, even though she was the mother of my unborn child?
"No. No, I'm s-so so-sorry. It's not yours. Please, Vic. You have to-" She wailed.
"I have nothing else to give." I choked out as all feeling was washed away. There were no tears. For a moment I thought I was going to be a Papa-- only for it to be gone in a second.
With my hand on her waist I ushered her out the door and placed a final kiss on her cheek, tasting the salt of her tear.
"Goodbye."
And with that I shut the door behind her. I felt nothing, no remorse. Instead I went to the kitchen and threw my glass at the wall, watching it shutter in millions of shards. The ice cubes rolled around and one began to melt by the heat of my toe. I stood for only a moment, basking in the burning sensation of the cold, before grabbing the bottle of whiskey of the counter and starting to drink.
It wasn't until hours after I'd been passed out on the floor that I felt my brothers arms wrap behind my back and legs to carry me upstairs. I groaned and grumbled, tears prickling in my eyes from the pain of heartbreak and the pounding headache coming on. Mike, playing his big brother role, tucked me in before laying beside me and shutting the lights off. We hadn't slept together since our parents had died, but something about the comfort made me feel a little better and my eyes get heavier.