Sally Spades

“I bid five.” Sally says confidently, eyeing her card game partner Jack with a grin.

“No way you can make five, no way.” Jack returns the smile, but his thoughts are not on the card game. He rearranges the cards in his hand. “If you’re going five then I am going two.” He continues arranging his cards, but his mind is on Sally.

Sally winks at Jack, then turns her gaze on Nate, who is counting up his bid in his mind. Nate knows he can make two for sure, but considering his card layout, and lack of spades, there is a good chance someone is heavy with a good hand. The question on his mind was if it was Sally, but that would depend on Smithie’s bid. He looks at Smithie, trying to read his mind or catch a drift of a tell. Nothing is coming to him. Smithie was only half paying attention. Nate looks at his cards again.

“Two.” Nate says flatly, his mind blank but knowing they are about to lose. He eyes Smithie. Smithie eyes him back, throwing a smile and shaking his head. “One. Maybe two.” They lock eyes together for a second. Nate loses his patience. “Jeez man, pick one or two and let's do this, I need some rack time.”

“Two.” Smithie says with confidence. “Two, baby.” he rubs his arm.

They all exchange glances. Sally knows her and Jack have this hand, and the night won. As she looks at Jack, Nate, and Smithie, her fireteam, she can see that they all know it too. She shifts on her hips a little, so get a better position to start dropping cards and start taking hands. They are all sitting on her bunk, bottom left in the small converted dorm room. The smell of body odor, mud, cordite, and smoke, now all olfactory fatigue, was only a passing thought to Sally. Fear and anxiety are not a crippling situation for her brain. She wasn’t immune, far from it, she was excellent at processing those feelings and re-centering. Overconfidence was her weakness. This last hand of spades was not going to help with that at all.

Jack, hiding the overwhelming fear and pain, wrought with anxiety, heart racing, was doing his best to hide his current position behind a well trained face. Great in the moment, but susceptible to long and hard recoveries, could still taste the vomit on his tongue, even after rinsing his mouth with whiskey, both as he spit it out like mouthwash, and as he swished it around before swallowing while enjoying his time with his companions. Tonight was going well for him, and he needed it as he worked, in nearly a full panic, to clear his mind of the day’s events. He looked over to Smithie, bandage still on his arm, and was thankful.

Nate, staring off into the void, mind racing, was lost both inward and outward. Newest to the fireteam, and only a few weeks out of training, he was fully numb to history and future. Everything going on still felt like a dream, a blackout gap of memories too powerful to write into memory, sensations only provable by the tightness of his muscles that would not fade. Fear didn’t exist, not yet, but his body knew it would come. The sensation of nothing, the blankness was just short of full on shock. Like trying to relax while laying on broken glass. Winning or losing this card game meant nothing to him. Passing time was all he could do. Pretend and pass the time. He hoped for sleep and anything to pass the time. He eyed Smithie, eyed the bandage on his arm, and forced himself to stop sitting firmly, to stop sitting like a drill instructor would come rushing in to give him orders at a scream. He couldn’t do it. The trained seating style would remain, a small afterthought in a brain clogged with nothing. Powerful nothing. He switched his focus back to his cards. They were terrible, but they existed, a grounding force made up of paper and ink, meaningless but existing. He knew it wasn’t his turn, it was Smithie’s turn, but he wanted to play. He wanted the game to start, win or lose. He eyed Smithie again.

Smithie, dope sick from the morphine injection from hours before was still sweating and breathing in an odd way. Fully overwhelmed with fear, but masked by the giddiness of still being alive, nearly overwhelmed that he was sitting there, in that room, playing cards trying to organize his hand, and failing to do so. He couldn’t concentrate at all, but that was not bothering him. In the back of his mind he could feel the wish for more pain killers, but he couldn’t focus well enough to consider if that was because of his desire for the chemical or to stop the pain. The pain from the shrapnel wound was intense when it happened and as the doc worked on him, but hidden well by the full belly and camaraderie in the room. Both were needed more than he anticipated. He was happy. Happy to the point of holding back tears. Visible to his brothers and sisters in uniform only by the slight tremble in his voice and Adam's apple. He was fighting them away, worried about releasing them. He couldn't start down that pathway, his brain wouldn’t allow it. Fight or flight had relinquished to fight only. It was locked in his body, mind and soul. He eyed the other players, and then dropped a three of clubs on the bed between them.

No one spoke. All eyes moved to Jack, he pondered over the cards in his hand and then played a seven of clubs. After dropping the card down he nervously arranged them on the bed to be aligned properly. He eyed Nate, then let his eyes find Smithie and then Sally. He looked at Sally, his face blank, but with affection on his mind.

Nate dropped a ten of clubs after considering using his only spade, the three, but choosing to wait, knowing in his head that Sally was going to spade this hand. His brain was pleased to do something, even an act this meaningless, but dreamed of being interested enough to care about the outcome. He drifted off, starting at the wall. He knew he wanted to think of the past, to think of what happened, but it wouldn't start. Staring was fine for now. It was something.

Sally gleamed, “Give it here boys!”, as she dropped a four of spades, then picked up cards on the bed, aligning them in a neat pile next to her leg. She pointed a single finger in the air, showing the count of tricks won, feeling as proud as she could. “That’s right, here we go!” as she looked at the other players. Sally was ready for tomorrow. Anything that came their way. She would prove herself, just like her father, she was determined to win, at any cost. She sat her hand down and mindlessly untied and then retied her boots. She looked at the others, none noticed or cared. Nate instinctively checked his laces, but they were squared away. She smiled and thought to herself, damn new guy. Her grin stayed plastered on her face, ear to ear, and she sat with that thought while playing the next hand. She knew the fighting tomorrow would be tough, but the hot chow and comfortable rack tonight would make her sharp in the morning. She would be ready for the worst. Winning this game of cards wasn’t going to hurt either. She finished considering and led with her five of hearts.

Smithie, continuing to hold back tears, was not thinking about cards. He was not thinking about food or sleep any longer. He was thinking about his friends, and how they helped him after he got hit. He was appreciative of them and the love he felt was overwhelming. A new pain washed over him as he chose his next card. He was worried. He was worried about his friends and their future. Hell even if they overcame all of the obstacles tomorrow and survived, would they remember him? Would they want to continue to want to be close? Would his calls and text messages go unanswered? He regained what little focus he had and played his king of hearts.

An accepting grunt came out of Jack’s mouth uncontrollably as he eyed his cards. He eyed Sally, trying to work out if she wanted him to blow a spade on this hand to take the trick. His thoughts switched to Sally, and Sally only, forgetting the card game and remembering his overwhelming desire as she pushed around cover yesterday, screaming and firing like a crazy person. He was always smitten, but was outright besotted by her during that fight and chased right behind her. Somewhere, deep inside, through all of the torment of his mind and body, he wanted to do it again, and soon. Tomorrow would arrive before he knew it, and he would be following Sally into whatever awaited them.

Nate, still staring at the wall and totally lost to the game at hand, was the first to hear the drone outside the window of the small dorm room. The faint buzz set off alarms for everyone on the bed, but Nate was first to act. His ears knew the sound and the lizard part of his brain sent the action to his legs and arms before his conscious mind knew what was happening. He leapt from the bed, pushing himself with both his hands and his feet like an animal, his arms and legs absorbing the landing silently, then stepping forward towards the window to see what was happening.

His motion, and the scattering of the cards around the bed stirred the rest of the fireteam into action, no words needed, no commands given. Sally was next on her feet, crossing behind Nate’s pathway and finding concealment along the wall next to the window, her head leaning low and peaking out of the window and quickly returning.

Jack, next, crossed the opposite pathway, moving silently and quickly, without effort duplicating and mirroring Sally’s efforts, as if reading her mind. He did not peak out of the window, but instead looked to her for direction and watched her work. Then eyed Nate, on his knees staring out the window, eyes wide like he was looking for a predatory animal closing in for the kill.

Smithie turned and pulled off the bed slowly, somewhat confused about the rest of the team. He thought for sure they were toying with him, he struggled to find the meaning of the new event that was playing out in front of him, and openly meandered in front of the window, his eyes squinting to try and see what the rest of the group was seeing.

“Do you see it?” the whisper barely audible out of Sally’s mouth. “I can’t see it.”

“I don’t see shit!” Nate reported, clipped and direct, but quiet and controlled. “I can still fucking hear it!”

Jack peaked out the window, then pulled back to concealment fast. “I don’t see nothing.”

Smithie continued to lurk behind the group. Slowly catching on, but choosing to sit on the rack instead of hiding, stretched out his arms and yawned. It was delayed, but eventually reached using his good arm to hold the bad one, as the pain snapped him out of his yawn.

The room switched to dead silence, minus the pounding rapid heartbeats each could hear in their own ears. Sally poked her head out again, this time holding it there and cupped her hand around her ear.

“I can’t hear it. Can you still hear it?”

“No.” both Jack and Nate reported, their eyes not leaving their previous targets, eyes looking through the window. Nate was looking at an area outside the window, and Jack was looking at Sally. Jack pulled his eyes to the window and stepped away from the wall to change his position and see further out. He kneeled down and dropped a hand gently on Nate’s shoulder to inform him of this position. He stayed there for a little while, ears listening for anything, then looked over to Sally. He nodded his head back and forth telling her no silently.

She waved a finger at him, instructing him to resume his position next to the wall, then stepped out and did the same procedure on the other side of Nate, who remained just below the window, with his head exposed, staring wide eyed out, scanning and looking for anything. Sally touched the other side of his shoulder as a silent information transfer, and looked out keenly as well. After a minute she returned to her side of the window, resuming being hidden from anything that may be looking inside.

The team remained, taking turns looking out the window for around twenty minutes when they were interrupted by Smithie, now passed out and snoring in Sally’s bed. He snored quietly at first, then shifted into a deep gurgle, nearly waking himself up as he comically made deep and loud inhales. Sally was the first to break and started laughing, her hands finding her face in an attempt to keep the sound from coming out, and failing.

Jack and Nate eyed each other, smiled, then looked to Sally, and all three of the awake team members started laughing uncontrollably. They broke from their positions and worked to shift Smithie into a position off of his back, ignoring the remaining cards he was now laying on.

Sally looked at Jack and told him “You’re first watch. Wake me in two hours and I will take over.” She then jumped up onto the top rack, and tucked in boots at all, to get some sleep. Nate followed suit and grabbed the bottom rack on the other side of the room. He said nothing and knew he would not sleep that night at all.

Jack sat on the floor and pulled himself over to the window, shifting his angle so he could see Sally sleeping, and keep watch over her and the rest of the fireteam. Tomorrow will be a new day.