Black Maps by David Jauss Read Free Book Online

It didn’t seem real. Nothing seemed real. The drop of sweat. The circle of men staring at him like he was a gook. Reynolds. He looked around at the craters that surrounded them. They could be on the moon. He lowered his rifle and sat down in the red dust, suddenly dizzy. His hands were trembling.
    Then Reynolds blinked and swallowed hard. He looked around him and finally found words. “Konieczny,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, “get on the horn to HQ. We need to call in a chopper to remove Private Harris to the stockade.”
    Konieczny said, “Yes sir” and began to call headquarters.
    Reynolds looked down at Freeze then and, squaring his shoulders, said, in a voice that shook now more with anger than fear, “Get this son of a bitch out of my sight. Get him out of here before I kill him.”
    But Freeze didn’t hear him. He wasn’t there. He had stepped on the mine and he was rising into the air, twisting and turning in the bursting light for one last peaceful second.

B EAUTIFUL O HIO
    This couple came in and took a table in the far corner, where the shadows almost swallow up the candlelight. That’s how I knew they were lovers, not father and daughter. That, and the way he held her hands and leaned over the table, his eyes never leaving her face all the while he talked to her. He was old enough to be her father, though: at least forty-five, maybe fifty. But his hair was that sort of premature gray that somehow makes a man seem younger instead of older, and he had the tan of a movie star or a doctor. He was wearing a white sport jacket and a navy knit shirt open at the neck, and he had two silver rings on his left hand. The girl was just a girl, blond, like they always are at that age, at least for a summer. She wasn’t wearing any make-up that I could see, but then who needs it when you’re that young? I’d seen the dress she was wearing—one with a lacy yoke and puffy sleeves—in the window of Cohn’s, so I knew it was expensive. I wondered if he bought it for her, or if her daddy did.
    Of course I thought right away about Roy and that high school dropout of his. How could I help it? I try not to think about him, but what can I do? Lenny tells me to forget Roy and marry him, but it’s not that easy. We were married sixteen years. His new wife was still crawling around in diapers when we walked down the aisle.
    Just thinking about Roy took the breath out of me. I can be going along, doing my job, happy, not thinking about anything, and then all of a sudden I think about him. I should expect it by now, I suppose, but I’m always surprised. That night, the thought of him hit me so hard I wanted to go home, make myself a drink, and climb into a tub full of soapy water. But I couldn’t go home. I had two more hours left on my shift, and besides, Lenny was there, and he’d want to know what was wrong. I thought of asking Tia to take their table for me, but she already had a full section and I didn’t want to have to explain. So I took two menus out of the rack and started through the imitation arbor toward their table.
    I don’t know why, but somehow I just knew they were talking about his wife. Maybe it was the way they were leaning over the table, like conspirators, or maybe it was how they were smiling. I don’t know. But as I walked toward them, I could almost hear him saying the old bitch , just like Roy did when he introduced me to his dropout after the divorce: I’d like you to meet the old bitch . The old bitch. Me . She didn’t look a day over sixteen, but I didn’t say anything. I had something all planned, some comment about how Roy had finally gotten the baby he’d always wanted, but when I got my chance, I couldn’t say it. I just waved my hand, like I was dismissing two children. Then I watched Roy’s green Pontiac speed down the street. That was almost two years ago now, but sometimes I