I couldn't see past the day in front of me. I tried, but thoughts of the future overwhelmed me. As this new adventure shaped me, my mind raced to thoughts of the past and thoughts of the future—what I had left behind and what was in store for me. Although, I didn't know how much this time would impact my life.
-Kyle My
1- Kyle stood at attention in front of his locker. The bay where he would call home for the next six weeks had thirty bunks on one side and thirty bunks on the other. Trainees from all over the country came here to endure training and become a part of the world's greatest military force.
Inspections were underway. Two men in sharply pressed uniforms paced down the aisles between the bunks. One had four chevron stripes indicating the rank of Staff Sergeant. The other had six chevron stripes—one of the stripes above the other five—indicating the rank of Master Sergeant.
Kyle's bag was emptied out onto his bed. His clothes strewn about and a small pile of trinkets lay at the end of the bed. The Master Sergeant approached with the Staff Sergeant.
"…what are these?"
Kyle looked down to see what the Master Sergeant was referring to. Of course… of course, he'd pick out the one thing that Kyle second guessed in bringing, but because it was a good luck charm from Jeni, he decided to carry it along.
"A trinket, sir."
"Trinket..?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why do you look familiar?" asked the Master Sergeant.
The Staff Sergeant approached the Master Sergeant.
"You remember the blond tips?"
"Oh, California boy. Frosted tips."
Even with Kyle's head freshly shaved, he was recognizable. This was the burden of looking different. Even the other trainees on the first night had commented on his appearance calling him "Bruce Lee." It was inevitable. Kyle stood out and now that the Sergeants knew his name, they would never forget. They finished their inspection and ordered any trainee with a cell phone to remove the battery from the phone and lock it in their foot locker.
Day-in and day-out, training was very regimented. Kyle quickly found out that he was top-tier as a trainee. None of that mattered to him, though. He was just counting down the time that he'd be able to talk to Jeni. He had made friends. The experience garnered a bond that he didn't expect. He hoped the friends he had might go on to the next phase of training with him. Among them was a friend named Joe.
Joe was recently married, and he would often speak very fondly of his wife. He also kept her in mind when he was searching for the strength to endure training.
The time finally came for Kyle to make a call. Each trainee was in line during their "free" time which didn't come very often. Some trainees chose to just go to a vending machine and get snacks to pass the time, but about a dozen trainees decided to wait in line to use the pay phone.
Kyle was waiting for a pay phone. He glanced over and also saw Joe waiting in line to place a call to his wife. Kyle was glad to see his friend choosing his wife over snacks. Kyle was next in line to use the pay phone. He placed a call to Jeni.
"Hello…"
"Hey, Jeni, it's me."
"Oh… hey…"
"I don't have a lot of time, but I wanted to let you know I'm OK."
"That's good."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's… just been a while since we spoke."
"…OK. Listen, can you give me your address? I wanted to send you something."
Jeni gave Kyle her address. The rest of the call was more awkward silences than he would have hoped or wanted.
"My time is up. I gotta get going… I miss you."
"Me, too."
"I'll call when I can."
"OK."
The phone clicked. Kyle wondered what just happened. He felt so awkward talking to her. It was as if she no longer cared. He refused to believe that after only a couple of weeks she stopped caring—stopped feeling the same way—that her feelings were so fleeting. This was not the mood he wanted to be in.
Kyle noticed the same reaction in Joe.
"Hey, man. What's up?"
"I talked to Cyn," said Joe. "She said to look out for a letter from her."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"She wasn't herself. I tried to ask her about it, but she kept dodging the question."
"I'm sure it's nothing. She's your wife after all."
"You're right, My."
The both of them made their way back to the barracks.
The following days were met with a seemingly enormous amount of pressure and training. Kyle was assigned as Chow Runner, the trainee that tells the flight when they eat. It seemed a little silly, but no position was without its importance. He just didn't know what it was. Maybe the Sergeant detected this because he immediately addressed it with Kyle.
"My, come here!" shouted Sergeant Long.
Kyle hurriedly made his way to Sergeant Long.
"Trainee My reports as ordered!"
"Do you know why Chow Runner is important?"
"…no, sir."
"How do you think the other trainees tell time throughout the day?"
Thinking on how there were no clocks visible and all their electronics were taken in the earlier weeks, Kyle hadn't thought of it.
"I don't know, sir."
"Chow, My. Chow."
He paced away slightly and paused.
"Morning, Noon, Evening… when you call them for chow, they know the time of day."
It was so simple, yet, he hadn't thought of it.
"I understand, sir."
Kyle continued to perform his duties as Chow Runner as well as he could. At the same time, he noticed that positions in the flight would change from time-to-time—especially the Guide-On Bearer. Maybe it was a rotation he wasn't aware of. Maybe people mess up and were replaced. It was probably the latter.
Marching came naturally to Kyle. Somehow, in the past week or so, the Flight's marching had become more erratic. There was an off-cadence, and this seemed to infuriate Sergeant Long. The Guide-On Bearer, Trainee Teague, was being rebuked again. He didn't seem to care. He was just saying his "yes, sirs" and "no, sirs."
Evening came, and the Flight had some down time in the barracks. Kyle saw Joe reading a letter. It wasn't Kyle's business so he didn'tintrude, but he did want to say "what's up" to Joe. Joe looked up and Kyle took the moment to talk.
"Sup, Ponzi."
"Oh… hey…"
"Why so glum?"
"Cyn … I got her letter."
"Oh, was this what you were waiting for?"
"Yeah, but what she had to say…"
"…what happened?"
"She said she cheated on me… like, three times."
"What!?"
"Yeah… she told me… way more than she should have… when, how… all of that."
"…I'm sorry, Ponzi."
"I just don't get it…"
Some of the other trainees overheard.
"Divorce that bitch!"
"Yeah!" chimed in the other trainees.
"Look, Ponzi… I don't think divorce is the answer."
"What do you think I should do?"
"Is she coming to graduation?"
"Yeah."
"Don't make any rash decisions until then. I know we talked briefly about faith, divorce isn't what God wants."
"…"
"I know this won't make you feel any better, but just focus on what we have to do here."
"Thanks, My. I'll try…"
The next day the Flight continued to train in marching and Sergeant Long looked over at the flight toward the rear. Kyle felt as if he was under inspection. It seemed like Sergeant Long was looking right in his direction.
"You're a pretty good marcher, My. How 'bout it? You wanna be my Guide-On?"
"No, sir."
"Why not?"
"I like my job as Chow Runner, sir."
Sergeant Long continued to yell jodies and keep the flight on a cadenced marching path. Kyle paid no attention to what Sergeant Long asked. He was perfectly content and trying to keep a low-profile, but he kept noticing the Flight… swerving? He was unsure of what was happening, but he did notice the beet-red face indicating Sergeant Long's impending rage.
"My, get up there! You're my Guide-On."
This confirmed it: jobs were changing because people were messing up. Great. Kyle did not want to be in the spotlight. Now, he was marching in front of the flight and carrying the guide-on, a flag signifying their Flight.
"You'll start training with other Guide-Ons immediately!" yelled Sergeant Long.
This was Kyle's worst nightmare.