Teacher

Once again edited by the incomparable wires. Without his help this story would not be nearly as readable.

*****

Staff Sergeant (SSG) Thomas Eagle's eyes popped open at the unexpected startling sound. His heart was beating loudly as the noise dragged him from a deep sleep. He lay still for a moment, then groaned and grabbed his phone to shut off the alarm. He was still exhausted from his past several weeks of roaming the hills in Afghanistan as well as the long flight back to Ft. Bragg, NC. To top that off, after they were released the night before he and some friends from his unit who did not have family meeting them went into town to celebrate their return to the States. When he finally got to bed the night before he knew he would be exhausted this morning. The alarm function in his cell phone had been set to allow only three hours sleep before waking him to face the new day. His exhaustion was so severe his body felt weak and shaky, he burned as if he was ill. Tom had a bone deep ache that wouldn't quit, most of which had no basis other than his exhaustion. He knew he should have just gone to his room and gone to sleep last night after his evening meal but his friends would not be denied. They insisted he accompany them to town. They told him it was their intention to get him well fed and staggering drunk as a thank you for his care for them during the deployment.

Tom stood and slowly walked from his room toward the latrine carrying his ditty bag. It was an old, dirty brown bag showing signs of hard use in the cracked and scuffed leather. There was even some blue mold showing in some of the creases. His father gave him the bag upon his enlistment in the Army nine years before. At the time it was new, full of modern bathing and grooming tools and soaps as well as several Indian remedies that his family still believed in. Now it contained almost nothing. There was a soap dish with an almost used up bar of Lava soap that Tom used for all his cleaning needs. There was a well-worn tooth brush in its grungy looking case and an almost empty tube of Crest toothpaste. Also present were a small bottle that held a couple swallows of Listerine mouthwash and a small bottle that held analgesics.

Tom entered the latrine and placed his bag upon a shelf under a mirror hanging over a small sink. He took a moment to look at his image in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles underneath. His weathered complexion showed his heritage of 3/8 Cherokee Indian and a dukes mixture of other nationalities. His torso and face were scarred from past injuries. Thomas Eagle sighed and opened the bag. It was time to begin yet another day in his life as a United States Soldier. He took out his soap then moved into a shower. He adjusted the water until it was steaming hot then stepped into it. His stoic expression remaining unchanged, seemingly unfazed by the water hot enough to send lesser men back into the cool latrine. He did cringe slightly from the heat, but relaxed as he let the soothing flow of water hit and massage his body. Slowly he turned and moved from the water to soap his sinewy body.

Tom was so used to his several scars he never even noticed himself rubbing them longer than he did the other parts of his body. He paid special attention to his most recent scar. It was still an angry red color and slightly tender. It represented Purple Heart number three and his Silver Star. The scar stretched from front to back almost equidistant from his waist to his armpit on the right side. There had been a place or two where you could see his intestines through the cut on the day he received the injury. A Taliban fighter came within millimeters of killing him that day in the mountains. Tom just barely managed to lunge away from the dirty knife the Taliban fighter tried to skewer him with as Tom tended to a wounded comrade.

In spite of his injury Tom won that fight and stopped only momentarily to render first aid to himself with the assistance of one of his friends. Technically he shouldn't have been fighting because he was a medic, but Tom believed in being where his friends needed him the most. He stayed safe if he could but when one of his charges was injured he frequently went to him instead of waiting for the injured man to be brought to his aid station. After he was bandaged slightly, Tom moved out once again and engaged the enemy while on his way to another wounded soldier. He fought and treated his friends until loss of blood caused him to pass out. His fighting ability surely saved his own life as well as at least three injured soldiers he was guarding. He personally killed five Taliban who were trying to kill his injured charges.

Tom was still leaning with his head against the shower wall gently rubbing his side when one of the other Sergeants in his unit came into the latrine for his morning shower. The Sgt stopped for a moment and watched his friend rubbing his side then said, "Morning, Tom. I thought I was getting an early start. You look like I feel and I feel like warmed over shit. It's been a long time since I got that drunk. Have you checked on any of the others yet? I bet most of them will need some of your medicine this morning.

Tom didn't move for a moment, then he slowly stood straighter and turned to face SGT Jones. Tom was always amazed at the sheer size of Jonesey. He was six feet three inches tall and wide as a barn door. His thighs were almost the size of a smaller man's waist and he was all muscle. He was also black as night and meaner than a snake in a fight. All in all he was one of the best soldiers in the unit, but he was also easy to anger and hard to calm down after becoming angry. His flashes of temper were one of the reasons Tom was senior to him. Jones was an eleven year veteran of the Army and had been a Staff Sergeant once only to lose his stripe because of a fight with another soldier.

Jones adjusted another shower head and moved under the water. As he was lathering up he turned to face Tom and asked, "So, what're you going to do when we go on leave? I'm going home and see my momma, then I'm gonna find me a woman and do nothin' but eat, drink, sleep, and fuck for my two weeks.

"I'm going back to Cherokee and see my folks. After that I'm going to take my horse and a pack mule and go back into the mountains to a little valley my family owns. I'm going to camp there and hunt and fish for the whole two weeks. I don't intend to see another human for the entire time after I go into the hills. I just want to relax and forget all about the world. I want to live like we were meant to and enjoy nature. No killing, no alarms or noise to bother me, no injured soldiers to try to keep alive. There will only be me, my animals, and mother nature.

"Man, that's some shit. Didn't you get enough Mother Nature when we were in country? What about pussy, man? You at least gonna get ya some pussy before you run into the hills, aint ya?" SGT Jones grinned and continued, "Or are ya agonna take some prime pussy into the hills with ya? Man, that'd be the ticket. Take some pussy into the hills with ya and run around bare assed nekkid and skinny dip and shit. Man, I could almost go with ya for that."

"Dunno 'bout no pussy man. I don't have anyone at home. You know my woman ran off with that damn Green Beanie a couple years ago. I don't have one on the string now and I'm not interested in catching some disease from one of the women hanging around the bars here. Most of the women around home aren't the kind to do a one night stand unless they are bar flies and I don't want nothin' to do with those skanks. No, I'll probably just spend a day or two with the family then go into the mountains."

"Man, you some crazy injin, aint ya? Man, jus find a Ho, fuck her, then move on. Man has needs ya know, and Rosie palm and her sisters jus' doan satisfy em, ya know?

Tom felt his anger stir at that comment. He knew Jones didn't mean anything by the comment, but it rankled. It rankled much as his calling Jones a Nigger would bother the big man. Tom was 3/8 Cherokee Indian and proud of it. His parents still lived near the reservation and even worked in the Indian Casino in Cherokee.

The two men finished their morning toilet and moved from the shower back to their rooms. When he left his room SSG Eagle looked every bit the soldier. He stood tall and straight, muscled chest and arms straining the uniform. His piercing black eyes and hooked nose made him look as fierce as his bow carrying ancestors. Before leaving his room he carefully placed his Green Beret on his head and surveyed his reflection. Yep, he was all shipshape and ready for another day.

Tom strode from the barracks and moved to his little Ford Ranger pickup. He drove for about five minutes and parked in a slot near the door of a newer brick building. As Tom strode down the sidewalk he stiffened to attention and snapped a salute to the Lieutenant Colonel heading toward the door from a closer parking spot. He crisply said, "Good Morning, Colonel. How are you today?"

The Colonel smiled and returned the salute then said, "I'm fine, Sergeant. I am somewhat surprised to see you so chipper this morning, though. When I saw you last night I wasn't sure whether I would see you this morning or not."

The LTC (Lieutenant Colonel) looked serious and stared hard at Tom, then continued, "You and some of the men were really tying one on last night. You didn't do anything I'm going to find out about today did you? You were favoring your side last night, too. How is your injury healing, son?"

Tom stiffened to attention and said, "No, Sir. To the best of my knowledge we didn't do anything you will hear about. At least we all got back to the barracks safely with no law enforcement involvement, if that is what you mean, Sir. I'm sorry we offended you. Some of the men wanted to take me out for the evening and wouldn't take no for an answer, Sir. My side is fine now. It is still tender, but I am healed fine, Sir."

The Colonel gazed into the medic's eyes, smiled, and said, "Good, I'm glad you're doing all right. How's the college going, son?"

Tom was surprised the Colonel knew about his after-hours entertainment. Tom was just three classes short of a bachelor's degree in Pre Med. He dreamed of being a doctor, but that dream seemed out of reach. He hoped to obtain a scholarship from the Army when he had his degree so he could go to Medical School. If he couldn't get accepted for Medical School he would try to become a Registered Nurse. He had almost all the credits he needed for that degree, also. His intense training as a Green Beret Medic at Ft. Sam Houston, Texas had not only whetted his appetite for higher level medical training, it had given him several college credits toward that elusive degree.

Tom said, "It's going well, Sir. I need three more classes for my Bachelors, then I want to apply for an Army scholarship to Medical College. If I can't get into Medical College I have almost all the credits I need to become a Registered Nurse Practitioner with a Bachelor's in Nursing or a Physician's Assistant."

The Colonel smiled once again and said, "If you need anything from me to make that happen let me know, Sergeant. I've watched you with the men and I think you'd make a fine doctor or nurse."

The Colonel looked at SSG Eagle once again before turning and moving into the building. Tom gave a silent sigh and allowed his body to relax from attention. He unconsciously rubbed his side one more time, then moved into the building and toward his small office to begin his day.

The next two weeks were filled with all the meetings, briefings, medical exams, and paperwork normal for a return to CONUS (CONtinental United States). After all administrative functions were completed the block leave began for the soldiers. The day his leave began Tom threw a duffel bag into his Ranger and drove off post headed for his home. He had the extended cab area filled with his gear, and presents for his family. There was a cooler in the front passenger floorboard and chips and bread in the seat. He intended to eat and drink as he drove so he could get home sooner.

It was only about a five or six hour drive home but it seemed to take forever. The humming drone of the small 4X4\'92s off road tires lulled Tom and relaxed him. He was not one of those people who hated road noise and bought tires that were quieter but less aggressive. He took his small truck off road so had the Off Road FX4 package. There was a winch on the front bumper and aggressive tires so he could use his little truck.

Finally, Tom arrived home. He pulled into his parent\'92s driveway and tooted the horn. His mother came running from the side door into the kitchen. His father walked out the front door and his sister and her two children followed. After a proper hug and greeting from his family Tom turned and pulled his duffel from the truck.

The whole family group headed toward the house jabbering and talking, trying to catch up as fast as possible. Tom looked toward the porch once again and stumbled. There was a beautiful woman standing watching the family walk toward her. She had a tentative smile on her face and looked nervous

Tom stopped a moment then walked on toward the porch and waiting woman. The woman was his ex-wife's two year younger cousin. All during their dating and short marriage, Song tortured him unceasingly every time they were together. She made it plain to all concerned she thought Brenda was not the woman for Tom. She let it be known she thought she would be much better for him than her older cousin. Tom never seriously paid her any attention because she was six years younger than he was. When he and Brenda married she was still in high school. He treated her like a loved younger relative and that hurt Song greatly. The day Tom married Brenda, Song cried and not from happiness.

When Tom stepped onto the porch he noticed his sister looking, almost staring at him. He smiled at Song and said, "Hello, Song. It's good to see you again." He pulled her into a quick hug before stepping back and looking her over once again. "You sure have grown up!"

Song blushed and lowered her gaze for a moment then stood straighter and looked Tom in the eyes. She said, "Hello, Tom. I'm so happy to see you again. I've missed you a lot. I'm so sorry for what that bitch did to you."

Song hesitated a moment then continued talking. "I was so sorry when I heard about your injuries and so scared for you. We were all so proud of you. Are you ok now?"

Without thinking Tom wrapped his arm around Song once again and gave her a quick hug. He said, "I'm fine now, Song. Just a little twinge every so often from the last nick I got. How have you been?"

Tom heard a loud snort from his sister and saw his parent's grin. His sister's oldest boy Toby started talking loudly. He almost yelled, "She's so cool, Uncle Tom. (Oh, crap, did I really do that to all you readers? It was unintentional I assure you.) She's been in jail. She got in a fight with Aunt Brenda and-"

Melody, Tom's sister snapped, "Toby, shut up. It's not your place to talk about things like that."

Tom stepped back and looked at a blushing Song. He said, "In jail? You went to jail for fighting with your cousin? That's not like you. What happened to the nice little girl I remember?"

Song blushed even more, but tilted held her head up. She said, "Yes, I cold cocked the bitch down at the Casino seven months ago. She came in with her new man introducing him around like he was something special. I told her what I thought of her for the way she treated you. She didn't take it too well and we got into it. I promised that bitch if she ever hurt you I would kick her ass and I did!"

Tom stood for a moment with a blank look on his face then he broke out laughing. It had been almost seventeen months since his divorce was final. He had dreamed about beating Brenda and her new lover several times but knew better than to do so. Tom stepped nearer the young woman and pulled the seething Song to his chest. He hugged her and said, "Damn, I wish I could have seen that. I've wanted to smash her smug face ever since I heard about her and asshole, but I couldn't. I wish you hadn't done it, though. There are better ways of taking care of trash than going to jail for it."

"I don't care. I told her what I'd do and I did it. I even landed a couple on the asshole she was with."

Tom turned and wrapped his arm around Song. They once again moved toward the front door and into the house. His father picked up his duffel as he walked past it. Everyone found seats as his father went into the kitchen. He returned with his hands loaded with bottles of beer and coke which he passed around. The family settled down to visit and catch up with the news.

Song was sitting across from Tom. Every so often their gaze would meet and the 22 year old Song would blush once again. She said little but hung on every word Tom said about himself and his career.

Soon the women all stood and moved into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. Tom and his father visited and played with the kids as they listened to the clattering and the drone of feminine voices coming from the kitchen. Occasionally the female talk was broken by quick barks of laughter. Soon good smells came wafting out of the small kitchen into the living room where Tom and his father now sat in companionable silence. Tom's stomach growled and his mouth watered thinking about his mother's great cooking. He really looked forward to several good home cooked meals while he was here. Just the thought of her cooking almost made him decide not to go into the mountains.

Tom stayed with his parents the next day and visited. Early the morning of the third day Tom saddled his horse and put a pack saddle on the two mules he was taking with him. He loaded all his camping gear, his fishing gear, rifle, pistol, way too much ammunition and even a crossbow. As he was leaving town he stopped in the store and bought way more dry and canned food than he could possibly use in the ten days he planned to stay in the valley. He bought twenty five pounds each of dry beans, corn meal, flour, and rice. He also bought ten pounds each of salt, sugar, and coffee. He purchased several smaller bottles of pepper and other spices as well as some dry gravy mixes. When he left his mules looked like the pictures of old time prospectors heading out into the hills. Tom also carried two 40 pound bags each of corn, wheat, and oats to feed his stock.

Tom could have used his truck and a trailer to drive the nearly twenty miles to the entrance to his valley but he chose to ride. It took him nearly all day to ride the trails through the reservation then back into the National Forest. He moved slowly and enjoyed the quiet, green, peaceful trip. Finally, at dusk he was in sight of the trail into his valley. He found a place to camp and pitched his tent for the night. He intended to get an early start the next morning and be set up for the stay before mid-afternoon.

Several times that night Tom woke to a deep humming sound. He thought it was coming from the direction of the family valley but he wasn't sure. The noise bothered him. He couldn't figure out what it was or exactly where it came from. Tom was up at dawn and cooked breakfast over his small fire. After he finished his meal he packed up and loaded his animals, then poured the remainder of his coffee on the glowing coals to put out the fire. Before he left he urinated in the fire pit and carefully placed the sod he removed the night before over the ashes.

When Tom got to the entrance to the valley he stopped. The entrance was a narrow cleft, almost a canyon between two taller hills. The way was tight and narrow for over 500 feet before opening out into his valley. There was a small stream running out of the cleft. A couple of times in the past Tom had seen a faint shimmering glowing patch extending side to side in the opening to the valley. Today the shimmer was more pronounced. It was difficult to see through it. There appeared to be a deep throbbing hum coming from the entrance.