Page 3 of A Veteran's Protection
The curtains are closed, and I flick the light switch. Nothing happens; the electricity must’ve been cut off long ago.
The floorboards creak with every step across the faded carpet. I pull back the curtains and cough as dust gets stuck in my throat. When the dust clears, I scan the room. The furniture is all dark wood, and a bookcase and side table sit next to an armchair with wooden arms and a faded green cushion, the middle indented from use. Was this my father’s favorite chair?
I run my finger over the arm of the chair, leaving a streak in the dust. Under the dust are tiny holes, and I lean down for a closer look. The holes run over the wood and down the chair leg. Termites. It’s worse than I thought.
I don’t know why I thought I could waltz in and stay here just because I own it.
The place needs a thorough scrub, urgent repairs, and pest eradication, which all seems expensive and way beyond what I’mcapable of doing on my own in the few days I’ve taken off work to sort this out.
I let out a long sigh. I have a bedroll and a sleeping bag. I came prepared to sleep on the floor of an old house, though I didn’t expect it to be in such disrepair.
But I’m here now, and I need to make the best of it.
Outside, I find a scythe in the shed, and I clear a wide circle around the fire pit. Inside might not be fit for living but outside might work.
2
AIDEN
The scent of BBQ ribs and slow-smoked pork hangs in the air and mingles with the smoke from the bonfire. Beer bottles clink together, the fire crackles, and male voices rise and fall, sometimes breaking into laughter.
These are the sights and sounds of Thursday nights in the back paddock of Jake’s Retreat.
A dozen guys stand or sit in plastic chairs around the fire pit, drinking beer or soda for those off the booze for reasons I don’t ask.
Dean mans the barbecue tonight. He holds a beer in one hand and metal tongs in the other. As I approach, he turns a stack of ribs, causing the juices to drip onto the grill and sizzle, making my mouth water.
“Damn, they smell good.”
Dean glances up and nods at me. “Hey, Aiden. Grab us a plate for these.”
I grab an aluminum tray from the trestle table, and Dean transfers the rack of ribs onto it. Before I set the tray onto the table, I snag one, enjoying the tender meat as juice trickles down my chin and into my stubble.
“These are good,” I tell him.
“There’s plenty more.” Dean reaches into the cooler behind him and grabs a package of hot dogs, and tears open the packet. The table already holds plenty of pulled pork from the smoker, ribs, and burgers. Not a salad in sight, which is what happens when men organize a barbecue.
There’s always plenty of food on bonfire night. Every Thursday, veterans from around Hope gather here. Some are staying at the retreat, and others come in from down the mountain for good food and company.
Dean slides the hot dogs onto the grill and tosses the empty packet into the garbage bag tied to the end of the barbecue. He rolls his shoulder twice and winces.
“You get injured in training?”
Dean smirks. “I’m always injured. Comes with the job.”
Which is what happens when you’re an ex-military close-quarters combat trainer and in charge of the training gym at Jake’s Retreat.
Joel strides over with Brooke, his new woman, by his side. She slides a bowl onto the table and takes the lid off to reveal a green salad, a splash of color among the plates of meat.
“I knew you boys would forget the salad.” She’s smiling as she shakes her head.
Joel grins at her and snags her hand. “Made from our own garden,” he says. “Eat your greens, boys.”
His face turns serious, and I’m not sure if it’s an order from the ex-Navy SEAL commander, but Joel is also my boss and the man who set up Jake’s Retreat to help veterans in any way they need it. I’ve got massive respect for the man, and if he wants me to eat his wife’s salad, I’ll take a double helping.
I pile a heap of Brooke’s salad onto my plate alongside a helping of pulled pork and a couple more ribs.
With a full plate, I snag some bamboo cutlery and take a seat by the bonfire.
