(no subject)
They blew off his arms--I heard that
from our company commander down at the VFW post.
It was over lemonade and cookies from the Ladies' Auxiliary,
and he made a three-point shot with his styrofoam cup
while he told me oh-so-casually that Charlie had blown our Private Harker's arms off.
Now, I'd never spoken to Harker since--well. Since Vietnam.
Truth be told, I don't know if he's still alive--
our company commander didn't say, and I didn't ask.
They blew his fucking arms off.
I wasn't up for a three-point shot.
I swear to God, I wasn't up for thinking about this
in the stuffy VFW post with the 1970s fans whirring overhead
and the white tile stained by a few decades of coffee--
wasn't up for sipping lemonade and thinking of our Private Harker
with his arms blown off like Venus fucking de Milo,
all ready to give me a big hug when the raid was over and we were so glad to be alive--
Nah, said our company commander. He had his hands behind his head,
feet up on the table like he owned the place.
Come on, now--blew his arms off? They'd have had to blow up the rest of his fucking chest
just to get his arms. Come on, now.
I'm just shittin' you.
He's probably got his arms around a real pretty wife right now, even as we're talking here . . .
God, man, I didn't mean to make you go back and all that.
Blew his--
blew his fucking arms off.
Lemonade like drinking lead, drinking the kind of lead they pump into you
when you're standing under those great, high trees in the shade
and you walk into a patch of sunlight.
Like drinking water with a splash of blood that's as easily yours as your buddy's
because when you get to the stream, it doesn't matter if it's clean
it doesn't matter if you're going to get fucking malaria because you're so damned thirsty
it doesn't matter if it's a man or a woman who's got you pressed up against the barracks wall because you're holding on to their arms
and going far away, to where there's no war
to where there's a yellow ribbon around the old oak tree
that's the color of
lemonade.
I tapped my empty cup on the table and gave it a long look.
Just shittin' you, swears the company commander. See if you'd jump.
I jumped, I say,
because holding onto Harken's fucking arms was all that got me to the other side.