Chapter 12
HUDSON
Ilooked at the address on my phone and compared it to the one on the old building that doubled as a rec center for seniors.
I had the right place. This was not how I planned on spending my first week stateside as a civilian.
After another long night, I realized I wasn’t doing well.
This dragon I was trying to slay could not be vanquished without a little help.
I pulled open the door and saw a sign pointing down the hall.
I walked through the door to find eight guys and two ladies all holding cups of coffee and mingling.
One guy made eye contact with me. He left the group and approached me with his hand extended.
“I wondered if we might see you here,” he said.
“You did?” I asked with some confusion. I didn’t know him. I wasn’t wearing a nametag. How did he know me?
“You’re ex-Navy, right?”
I nodded without giving away too much. I had no tattoos. A lot of the guys had Navy or SEAL tats. With my line of work and the risk of falling into the wrong hands, I didn’t have anything that could identify who I was. “Can I ask who you are?” I asked in a hard voice.
The man grinned. “Gus. Gus Osborne.”
“Hudson Steele,” I said. “But I guess you knew that.”
He pointed to an older man just taking a seat. “That’s Hank. He told me about the SEAL in town trying to help out some of the vets that landed here. It’s not hard to spot the new face in town.”
“You’re a local?” I asked.
“I’m a recent local,” he said with a laugh. “I moved here about six years ago after leaving the Marines.”
“Ah, a Devil Dog,” I said with a half-smile. “What was your MOS?”
“Infantry division,” he said without elaborating.
Usually, that meant a guy had seen some shit and didn’t care to get into specifics. “Afghanistan?”
He nodded. “Yep. You?”
“All over,” I replied.
“From what I understand you’re a local hero,” he said.
“I don’t know about that, but I was born and raised here,” I said, shrugging. “I guess people don’t forget.”
“They’re proud to know you,” he said. “Trust me, that’s better than the alternative. Guys like Hank can tell you some stories about what it was like to return home after ‘Nam.”
“I understand,” I said.
“Want some shitty coffee?” he asked.
“No thanks. I’ll get a bottle of water though.”
I grabbed a lukewarm water from the table of refreshments and took a seat in one of the folding chairs arranged in a circle.
Hank led the meeting with the standard introduction.
I noticed no one said what branch they were in or where they had been.
I appreciated the anonymity. It didn’t make a lot of sense to keep bringing up the past if we were all here to put it behind us.
Our name and rank were our old life. Lieutenant Commander Hudson Steele was laid to rest. I was just Hudson now.
When I first heard about this group, I dismissed the idea.
I told myself I didn’t need it. I was a little ashamed to admit I was too proud to ask for help.
I had the ridiculous notion it would make me weak.
Then the other night happened, and it became clear I was not handling this transition into civilian life as well as I thought I would.
Thankfully, no one pressured me to talk.
They talked, I listened. Each of them talked about something that had happened to them during the week that triggered old memories and restarted the nightmares.
Some were struggling harder than others.
I found myself focusing on Hank. He’d been a pilot in the Vietnam War.
Nearly fifty years out, and he seemed well rounded but maybe a little haunted.
Was that going to be me in fifty years? Not that I expected to live that long, but it was a little disturbing to think this was it.
The rest of my days were going to be plagued with nightmares.
After the meeting, I got up and was going to make a quiet but hasty exit when Gus stopped me. “Want to grab a beer?” he asked.
“Isn’t that against the rules?”
“This is a very informal group of people that have some shared experiences,” he said, shrugging. “There aren’t any rules. And I could use a drink.”
“Okay, sure,” I said.
“We can go over to the Port Pub,” he suggested.
I grimaced. “I’m not sure I’m welcome there.”
“Really?”
“Maybe you’ve heard the local lore, but that’s my sister’s business,” I said. “I got into a bit of a scuffle the other night.”
He chuckled and slapped me on the back. “While we don’t have rules, we do believe in apologizing to those we’ve wronged.”
“Shit, that’s going to take a while,” I muttered. “I’ve been home a week and I’ve already got a list.”
When we walked into the pub, I half-expected Teresa to throw me out. She shot me a dirty look and pointed to a table in the very back corner of the place. “You move and I’ll cut your nuts off,” she barked.
“Gus, meet my lovely, demure sister,” I said with a grin.
“You start any trouble, and I swear you will be answering to the baseball bat I keep behind the bar,” she warned.
“You’re very violent,” I joked.
Gus and I sat at the table she’d pointed at. Teresa brought us a pitcher and two glasses without saying a word.
“Nice girl,” Gus quipped.
“I guess she’s still a little pissed at me.”
“So, a fight, huh?” he asked. “I guess I know what brought you to our little meeting tonight.”
“Yes,” I said. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I had a gorgeous woman in my arms and the next I was ready to unleash on a stupid drunk kid.”
“What happened?” he asked while filling our glasses.
“To me, it was nothing,” I said. “We were dancing, and this cocky kid started talking shit about the music. I had chosen the music from the jukebox. It was nostalgic and meant something to me and the girl I was dancing with. We were having a good time. He fell into her and shit just happened fast. I reacted without thinking.”
He nodded as I talked. “You’re on a ten all the time.
It’s not anything new or different from anyone else that’s come back after some hard tours.
It’s time to retrain the brain. Remind yourself you’re at home.
There isn’t an enemy combatant around every corner.
It takes a while to let the guard down, but you can do it.
You can take a step back. Been on vacation yet? ”
I scoffed. “No. When? Where? I’ve been everywhere.”
“No, you’ve been everywhere on mission, not on vacation,” he corrected. “Big difference.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure things out. How does everyone else do it? A couple guys I’ve worked with over the years have left the service and gone right back to their old lives. They had families. Maybe that’s the difference.”
“I don’t think there is a perfect solution,” he said. “We all have to stumble through it and find our own way.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I get to play outside and pretend I’m a good guy every once in a while,” he answered.
“You’re a cop?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I doubt the force would have me. I don’t get paid to play hero.”
“What do you do?”
“I volunteer with the search and rescue group,” he said. “I get to be outside roughing it while helping people out on what is likely one of their worst days.”
“Search and rescue, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah. There’s not a lot of calls, but we do get to go out a couple times a month. It’s usually just a twisted ankle or something like that, but it keeps me on my toes. We do training usually a day or two a month. It’s a nice way to stay in shape and stay sharp with your skills.”
“They looking for anyone else?” I asked.
“They are always looking for someone,” he said. “I’ll get you the information.”
“I would appreciate that,” I said. “Anything to stay active.”
“You look tired,” he said. “Nightmares?”
I looked into my beer. “I don’t know if I would call them nightmares.”
“Ah, those vivid memories,” he said with a shake of his head. “You can smell the sulfur and taste the sand.”
I looked him in the eyes. It was pretty clear he’d been in the shit. He knew what I was talking about. “Yep.”
“It fades,” he said. “There will always be rough nights, but they do get fewer and farther between.”
“That’s something to look forward to.”
“Keep coming to the meetings,” he said. “Sometimes, all you need is to know it’s not just you. You aren’t the only one wading through the shit.”
“Do you want food?” Teresa asked.
I looked up at her and offered a smile. “Will it be poisoned?”
“Yours might be,” she shot back.
“Ah, have mercy on the kid,” Gus said.
“The kid nearly trashed my place,” Teresa said. “Do you see that hole in that little area over there? There should be a table there. It’s not there because this guy tossed a kid through it.”
“I bet he would be willing to pay for it,” Gus said.
“Oh, he’s going to pay for it,” Teresa said. “He’s lucky I let him back in the place. I had to let him in because technically his name is on the deed.”
“I’d make him wash dishes,” Gus joked.
“Hey,” I protested. “I said I’ll pay for the damn thing. I don’t want dishpan hands.”
“You should have thought about that before you bloodied that kid’s face,” Teresa replied. “He already left me a Yelp review, like I was the one who decked him.”
“Fuck him,” I said.
“Yes, I said that as well, but that doesn’t get you off the hook.”
“I’m sorry,” I said and meant it. “It was a lapse in judgment. I’m not going to let it happen again.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Gus said.
Teresa looked at him. “Thank you. I know who you are, and I do think you’ll keep an eye on him. You used your one free pass, Hudson. I’m serious, I will ban you from this place.”
“I get it,” I said. “I’ve learned.”
“Good. I’ll get you some sandwiches. You look like shit.”
She walked away with Gus laughing. “She clearly loves you,” he said.
“Yes, she does,” I said. “She’s just another reason I need to get my shit together. I can’t let her down.”
“You’ll get it,” he said. “Give yourself some time. Realize you are not perfect. Don’t be afraid to take a step back.”