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Give me a motherfucking break.
I look like shit, and now there will be hell to pay.
"Samp, is that you?"
I lower my eyes, trying to pull on my goddamn shirt. It hurts too much, though.
"What the hell is going on, son?"
I clench my jaw, wincing-- my teeth are damn near rattling in my mouth.
I look over my shoulder the tattoo shop, the lights are out. "The guys in there, they--"
"You telling me you got your ass handed to you in broad daylight? What are you doing here anyway? You are supposed to report to duty in an hour."
"I was headed that way, Sir."
"I bet you were. Get in the goddamn car."After I'm checked out in the infirmary, I'm put on duty right away. I thought I might get a chance to make a few calls, to go back to Sweetie's house, but it's a no go. I'm not leaving the base as far as my superiors are concerned until I board the ship later today.
I've been in the Navy for two fucking years and never got in a single fight and look at me now. A goddamn mess. Bloody lip and bruised jaw and an eye clipped so badly I look like Rocky goddamn Balboa.
"You weren't expecting to get shipped out now, were you?" the Captain asks.
"I was supposed to stay here for another three months."
"Sorry son, but you're headed out for six months."
"Will I be coming here when the tour is over?"
He nods. "Looks like it. But after what those boys did to you, I'm not sure I understand why you wanna come back here."
I close my eyes. It’s no use explaining that I fell in love with a woman I hardly know to this man who is not my family. He's the captain, and the last thing he wants to hear is my sob story about the one who got away.
"You better not throw any punches like that again, understood?" he says, standing to leave me alone in the sterile hospital room.
"With all due respect, sir, I wasn't the one throwing the punches."
He frowns but then gives me a stern nod. "The sea will be good for you. Clear your head. If this girl matters to you, you can tell her when you get back."
I narrow my eyes. "How did you know there was a girl?"
He laughs. "I've been doing this for nearly forty years, Samp. It's always about a girl."It's long hours, but it's a job and a helluva lot better than following in my father's footsteps.
As a gunner's mate, I'm responsible for the operation and maintenance of guided missile launching systems. I like it, working with electronic circuitry: mechanical hydraulic systems. I know eventually, it’ll lead to me getting a decent job as a civilian if I want.
But now, being out on the water, I can't really imagine wanting that any time soon.
I love this work, being a part of a team--something bigger than myself. I'm proud of my job, of my country. And sure, there are problems with it, but I choose to believe I am giving my life to be a part of the solution. Nothing's perfect-- I sure as hell am not--but I can do my best, one day at a time.
It doesn't take long to get back to 100%, but I still feel the slight ache in my ribs when I move. On the ship, I'm back to the daily grind, sleeping as much as I can after pulling sixteen-hour days. My shipmates like to BS, but I can't play games anymore. I find my mind wandering.
Well, drifting to one thing in particular.
Sweetie.
Always Sweetie.
Is that even her name?
I Google the tattoo parlor, looking for some last name mentioned somewhere, but that shop is nowhere on the Internet, except an address on a Google map. Not surprised. It's a hole in the wall, full of greasy dudes and sketchy motherfuckers. But damn, I wish there was more to go on. Not even a Yelp review page.
I want to email her, but there isn't anywhere to send it.
But I can write her.
So, I do.
I wish I knew her life story, but it sounds like it was bitter and cold and lonely as hell.
I regret so much. That I didn't fight harder the day her brothers tried to bash in my skull. I didn't want to kill the only family she had, so I held back, never realizing it would mean I would lose her.
Now, though, I can't help but replay our conversations, the way she looked into my eyes and saw my soul. Her body, so pure and innocent, was made for me--I know that with all that I am.
So, I tell her, addressing the letter to the My Sweetheart, care of the Grim Reaper Tattoo Shop.
And I hope like hell she answers me because right now, this sailor is lost at sea.
