\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1450084-Home
Item Icon
by Esice Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Dark · #1450084
The trials of Early Sims, An Iraqi war vet trying to survive after returnig home.
He looked as it happened then instinct took over, as the flames rose from the left he buried his face in his arm fighting to keep the truck on the road. The flames completely surrounded him singing his hair and eyebrows, and then came the sound. It came like an invisible wall, it came fast and hard. When he woke it was chaos screaming, crying, gunfire. He had no way of knowing how long he had been unconscious; no one seemed to have noticed him amidst the newly waged battle. He was bleeding from his right arm, it didn’t hurt but it would be noticed. That would mean they would send him to be checked out, and take him out of this fight, unless he acted fast. As he scanned the horrific scene he acquired his target sprinting down a nearby alleyway, once again instinct guided his every move. In the blink of an eye he was across the street in the mouth of the narrow road. He raised his weapon as he lowered himself to one knee. Momentarily holding his breath he squeezed the trigger.
Early woke with a start, covered in cold sweat, heart racing; he had been remembering again, something he had been trying to forget. Early couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about but it had scared the hell out of him, again. His right arm was numb. Sleep was out of the question now; soon the feeling would come back, the pain would be unbearable. He rolled of the couch and headed for the bathroom where he tipped the bottle of codeine into his mouth. He swallowed what he guessed were eight tablets; knowing it wouldn’t stop the pain but hoping it would at least take some of the edge off it. Early walked to his bed a lay on top of the covers, it was very comfortable but it was too big he couldn’t sleep here and often wondered why he even kept it. The bed had been there for three years and early had never once slept there. He had come home physically at the same time he got the bed, and Early knew that when the rest of him caught up he would want that big bed to finally rest on. Early made some coffee and turned on the news another soldier killed himself. How much time did Early have left himself he wondered. He felt no joy anymore and he was always angry, not just angry like before now he wanted to hurt someone all the time, and it never stopped. Early took a drink of his coffee and lit a cigarette; through the smoke the TV showed the prices steadily rising at the pump. Early let out a sigh it was hard enough to pay the bills as it was if gas prices kept on going up he wouldn’t be able to afford to drive to work. Early crushed out his cigarette and headed for the shower his arm was already throbbing. Today was going to be hell, nothing new.
Even with less than four hours sleep Early could easily outwork everyone else at the rail yard. It was a job he liked, so to speak, at least he didn’t have to be around people. He could just get into his spot truck and go to work. For the most part he would be left alone occasionally stopping to talk with the one or two people he could tolerate. He was offered a promotion just last week, which is why it came as a surprise when he was called to the office in the middle of his shift by an angry manager. Early took a couple of deep calming breaths before knocking on the bosses’ door. “Come in” came a beefy voice from the other side of the door. Early opened the door and stepped inside the air conditioned office. The cold air was refreshing after the hot and humid air Early worked in. “You wanted to see me sir?”
“Yes, Early I have been looking over your production over the past few days and I’m seeing a slight decline over the last few days.”
“You mean I failed to make my quota?”
“Well not exactly but we have become accustom to a high level of output from you and now this. You turned down our offer to promote you to operator, and well we feel you’re not a team player.”
I turned down the offer because I like the job I have. I can work at my own pace.”
The stocky balding operations manager began cleaning his glasses. “You see Early there are two types of people in this world team players and people who look out for themselves. We here at Logistican we’re team players, and have no room loners.”
At these words Early lost control of his already fueled temper.
“WHAT? ARE YOU SAYING I’M FIRED?”
Early jumped over the desk and grabbed the older man by the throat. Fighting with every last bit of his will he forced his hand open and let the fat man fall to the floor. Early quickly left the room and ran to his car praying the cops would not be called. Angry with himself for assaulting another employer, loosing another job Early drove in the opposite direction than home worried at what he might find waiting for him he headed for an out of the way bar.
Detective Jeremiah Leeds was at his desk going through the various homicide cases it was his job to solve when the petite radio operator softly knocked on the door. Leeds looked up “What can I do for you Tracy?” “Well sir you asked to be notified if anyone called in about Early Sims.” Leeds gave a heavy sigh “What did he do now?”
“We just got a call that he attacked his boss a Mr. Peter Cole.”
“How bad did he hurt him?”
“Apparently he just grabbed him by the throat then left.”
“So he was not injured?”
“No sir, he says he wants to press charges though. I was just on my way to send a unit to bring him in.”
“Hey Tracy never mind that I’ll go talk to him let’s try to keep this one quiet ok?” Det. Leeds grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed for his car. Early had been his friend for over twenty years. They had been like brothers once, but he couldn’t keep covering for him every time he decided to hit somebody. The only reason he was helping now was because if he had wanted to hurt Cole Early would have killed him. Detective Leeds put his analytical mind to the task of finding his wayward friend. Leeds often thought about how different things would be if Early could have afforded to go to college after high school. Leeds made his way playing football whereas Early joined the Army. Leeds met and fell in love with his wife Erica while Early went to war. He missed his friend and was excited when he came home. The man he picked up at the airport three years ago however had lost the love of life Early was known for, but they say war changes people and Leeds counted on the VA to get his friend the help he needed. It had been three years and they were both still waiting.
The Savage Garden was the first bar Early had ever been in, his mother had tended bar there when he was younger. Early could remember the days when he and Jerry would waste away the afternoon playing pinball or shooting pool in the back while the regulars would drown their problems in cheap beer, he had pitied them back then. Now here he was on his second pitcher of the hour feeling life pass him by, trying to drown out the echoes in his head. He could still hear screaming children that he could not help. Early ordered another shot and lit another cigarette, when would it all end. He knew sooner or later his behavior would kill him, he felt sooner would be better. Now he had no job again, he was alone, his money would run out eventually, and he would be just another homeless vet that couldn’t cut it in the civilian world. The bartender set the shot in front of Early and took five dollars from the pile in front of him. Early knocked back his whiskey and closed his eyes allowing the drink to warm him from the inside. He was running covered in sweat there was gunfire all around him as he turned the corner he saw where the car bomb had exploded. It had taken out a bus; there were body parts everywhere unrecognizable. Early opened his eyes and put the shot glass on the bar. He took another drag and let the screams die back into echoes. He whispered under his breath so no one could hear: “Help me, if there is a god help me please.”

© Copyright 2008 Esice (esice at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1450084-Home