Cursed

≛ Chapter Six ≛

Zachery

I didn't realize I was holding my breath, until the plane's tires skidded to a halt on the airstrip. I'm back in Iowa. I'm home. A sigh escapes my lungs as the realization of that thought comforts me. The flight attendant announces that we have landed. Happiness starts to creep into me at the thought of not having to wake up at four o'clock for morning drills. Or being able to grow out my hair and beard however I want.

It's been six years since I've seen my hometown. Six years since I've seen the rolling hills and green forests. Six years since I've seen my parents. Even as I sit here thinking of all the things I've missed, the irony of how badly I had wanted to escape this place in the first place does not allude me. But a lot can change in six years and I'm proof of that. I'm not the scrawny teenage farm boy that I once was.

After being handled like a tool for the government for so many years, I know what it means to be owned by someone else. I don't remember what it feels like to be truly free. Something you couldn't possibly understand until your freedom has been taken from you and shoved into the hands of the biggest douche bad Lieutenant Colonel of all time.

Now that I have my freedom, I just have to figure out what to do with it. In my six years of service I was never given the ability to choose my path. All I had to do was turn a blind eye and follow orders. Now I have to give orders to myself. But when I look in the mirror now I'm still not entirely sure who that guy looking back at me is. When your body's only purpose is to protect and serve your country, there's pieces of you that get lost in the mix. I just need to create a routine for myself, plan my own meals, and it all starts with a beer. And probably a slice of greasy pizza from Torino's.

I grab one of the taxi's in the long sea of yellow that waits for passengers outside of the airport. After instructing my driver to head to Fairfield I lean back and try to relax. I know the ride home will be long so I get out my ipod and find my favorite metal band to zone out to. The cornfields pass us by in a green blur as the taxi speeds along the highway.

After several hours of monotonous driving, the cab driver slows down and pulls into the center of the town square. It's exactly where I told him to take me but looking out the window now I'm somehow shocked by what I see. The exact same stores and restaurants have remained in the exact same way they were on the day I left. I guess some things don't ever change.

I pay for my fair and pull my navy blue duffel bag out of the trunk. I hoist it onto my back and take off towards a bar that I remember being a few blocks off the square. My heavy utility boots make clicking noises on the cobblestones that run down all the alleys. I curse out loud as a group of people smoking stare in my direction, whispering to each other as I walk by. I had wanted to be more discreet about my arrival but right now I don't feel like going all the way home to change out of my army uniform. And I'm definitely not ready to face my dad. At least not sober.

I realize that whoever just saw me probably knows my mom and will report back to her in a matter of seconds. I know she will find out that I'm here one way or another. It's just a matter of time before I run into one of her friends and watch as the gossip about my return spreads like wildfire.

I turn the corner and I'm relieved to see the bar's sign that says Hideaway. I need to get a few drinks in me before I have to deal with my parents or friends of my parents. I open the door and step inside the dive bar. All the tension in my body leaves as the familiar country music of Whiskey Meyer's blasts from the speakers.

"End post floatin on a southbound breeze. Somewhere between Heaven and the tall pine trees, Heartland, I'm missin' you. And guitar playin through the night. It felt pretty good, yeah I'm feelin alright. Good as one for the price of two. It's been a long time gone. Since the truth's been told. And I've seen my home."

I put my military ID and a credit card on the bar, as the bartender asks what she can pour me.

"I'll take a shot of Jameson and a Budweiser. Keep my tab open. Please."

She slides the shot to me and I take it quickly while she pours the sloppiest pint of beer I've ever seen. The golden liquid gushes over the glass and she barely wipes it clean before putting the sticky mess on the bar in front of me. I grab a handful of cheap paper napkins and wipe my pint down. After a few drinks of beer I take in the chatter of the bar crowd as it fills the air around me. The sound of billiard balls clacking peaks my interest.

I walk up to the chalkboard and put my name underneath a very haphazardly written "frank" then sit back down to wait for my turn. There's something about the focus and agility of playing pool that calms me. When it comes to this game, it's almost like I'm five steps ahead of my opponent and I've already won before they even realize. The man named Frank slurs at me.

"Is there a Zachery around?"

"That would be me."

I step up to the wooden table and grab a pool stick that's leaning against the bar wall. Frank let's me break and my focus goes entirely to the game. I sink solid after solid as Frank watches in amazement. When he finally gets a turn I momentarily allow myself to gaze up from the game and look around. A girl is walking into the bar right as I look up. She proceeds to sit down at an empty table and look nervously around the room. She's got to be way too young to legally drink here. As I stare at her, attempting to figure her out, she turns to look directly at me. Then Frank yells at me.

"Zach! You're up dude!"

"My bad, sorry."

I have to quickly turn away from the girl's gaze and focus back on the billiard balls. Once we finish up I notice that the girl hasn't stopped looking at the door. Could she be waiting for someone?

"Fuck me!"

Frank moans as he accidentally sinks the eight ball. I put some chalk on the end of my pool stick and wait to see who's going to come play me next. To my surprise the girl gets up and walks over to stand next to me. She offers her hand out to me politely and I shake it.

"Hi, my name's Rory. What's your name?"

"I'm Zachery but my buddies call me Zach. Can I interest you in a game of pool Rory?"

"You make it look so easy, but I've actually never played before. Would you teach me?"

"I would be happy to teach you. Unless you've got somewhere you need to be?"

As if I called her out on a secret Rory looked down at her shoes and back up to the bar door.

"Well I was maybe....I thought someone might be...you know what, actually I'm not waiting for anybody."

"Ok. The first step you have to do to play pool is drinking a beer, can I get you one?"

She laughs at my obvious attempt to make her more comfortable. I could get lost in those blue eyes, I thought while handing her the beer. She smiles up at me as I start to explain the rules of the game.