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21
WILL
Paul and Shelby left for their St. Thomas honeymoon the next morning, and Aria had another wedding to oversee that day, so I spent my Sunday on the couch alone. Monday morning, I took the bike to work since Paul would be gone all week, something bittersweet settling in my gut as I killed the engine and took off my helmet.
Paul and I worked at different squadrons and in different hangars, so I didn’t see him much except for our lunch breaks with Chase. Without living together and carpooling to work, that was all we’d have. Not that I wanted to trip out about it, we’d spent the last decade on opposite coasts. Our friendship would survive. But after getting used to having him around all the time, like when we were growing up, it still bugged me.
Deciding to buck up and be grateful we were even still friends after how I’d handled things with Aria, I tucked my helmet under my arm and headed across the street to the flight line and the massive aircraft hangers that loomed over it.
“Paxton.”
I turned, finding Staff Sergeant Jordan waving me over. Dread filled me, wondering if this was just a regular work thing or if he had news about Roberts. Judging by the way his eyes shifted from side to side in that telltale way people did when they were about to have a private conversation, I figured it was the latter.
When I stepped into the shop, Chase was already there, standing at attention. “Relax,” Staff Sergeant Jordan told him. Chase did as he was told, his eyes on me as his jaw clenched.
“Hazing will not be tolerated in this command,” Staff Sergeant Jordan began, crossing his massive arms over his broad chest, “so when you first reported it to me, I reported it to the sergeant major. He told the CO, and an investigator contacted everyone in the shop to ask for witness accounts of the situation.”
Chase and I nodded, not giving a verbal response, but our staff sergeant didn’t seem to need one.
“They interviewed Mitchell for his side, of course. But witness accounts were key since there wasn’t any proof. Some of the things that were reported include the stories you told me, Paxton, as well as verbal abuse that goes well beyond disciplinary counseling. There were also multiple accounts of Mitchell being forced to carry a full toolbox around instead of a tool pouch, and not being allowed to set it down for any reason.”
My eyes flew to Chase. I hadn’t heard that. Where was I when that happened? “Is that true?”
Chase nodded, looking away. “Yeah.”
Those toolboxes could weigh upwards of fifty pounds, depending on what was in it. That was why we only took what we needed and used a pouch when we were out doing maintenance. It wasn’t efficient or reasonable to lug the full box around from jet to jet. What was with Roberts and inflicting pain by way of carrying heavy stuff around? Did he have some kind of complex about not being strong enough or something? I was no shrink, but it seemed like a pattern.
“Mitchell has already spoken to the sergeant major and CO. He’s confirmed all of the reports. A little unwillingly, for the record, but still. Between his statements and the witness statements, the command is meeting with Roberts right now to decide what’s going to happen to him. He’ll be removed from the shop either way.”
“He will?” Chase asked, eyes wide.
“Yeah. Like I said. Hazing is serious,” Staff Sergeant replied.
“What do you think they’re going to do to him?” I asked.
He shrugged. “With this kind of thing, he could get knocked down a rank. Or maybe they’ll make him a non-rec.”
“What’s that?” our boot asked.
“It means he’s not recommended for advancement going forward,” I explained. “Which basically means he’s getting forced out after this enlistment because you can’t re-enlist if you can’t advance in rank.”
Chase gulped. “Oh, wow.”
“Hopefully he doesn’t dig himself even deeper when they meet with him,” Staff Sergeant said. “I’ve seen somebody get the whole bookshelf thrown at them and not just the book because he turned into a psycho during the disciplinary meeting.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. The guy seems pretty unhinged,” I said.
“Yeah, well, that’s part of the reason I’m talking to you now. He’s with them as we speak, and knowing him, he’s going to be pretty lit up when he gets out of that meeting. So I want both of you to steer clear. Understand?”
“Yes, Staff Sergeant,” we replied.
Chase shifted from foot to foot. “I still feel really stupid about all of this. I mean, I get it’s wrong what he did, but you’re basically saying I ruined his career.”
I turned to look at him, putting one hand on his shoulder and holding his wary gaze in mine. Every inch of me wanted to assure this kid it was nothing he did. He wasn’t the guilty party here, and he didn’t need to feel that way. I knew all too well what that felt like. I knew what it was like to wonder if I’d provoked my dad.
Maybe if I’d eaten all of my food, he wouldn’t have gotten so mad and hit my mom for being such a bad cook.
Maybe if I hadn’t changed the channel, he wouldn’t have hit me with the remote to teach me a lesson.
