Chapter XVII

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His shade fluttered forth, bound reluctantly for the wintry underworld. — Iliad 22

I dreamed of oversleeping, of being late for my big day – a wedding, the birth of a son, the first day at work – something important, and I just missed it, that was all there was to it. My time had come and I was not there. So I was in despair, from my dream, when I woke suddenly and completely, at first not knowing where I was.

Then it all came to me, an avalanche of awareness.

I bolted from the cot and pushed open the door, expecting and fearing full daylight, but the sky was only a silvery predawn hue. I instinctively reached for the pocketwatch in my vest and realized I was stark naked, except for my wedding band. I rushed to find my clothes and left the door open to provide some light to see by. I was aware there were three bodies sleeping in the tent but paid little attention to them in my panic to find my things. Blankets and ladies undergarments and so forth were strewn upon the floor. I pawed through them but could not locate my belongings.

A sleepy voice, too sleepy to identify, said, "Shut the door, it's cold."

"I cannot find my things." I was frantic.

"I tossed em," said Third Voice. "They was stinkin the place."

"Outside?" I was too shocked to move.

"Don't have a hysteria," said Third Voice, sitting upright, her dangling little tits pointing straight at me. "Your wallet and watch and such is on the table." She nodded tousled brown hair toward a corner of the tent.

I saw my things in the shadow light. I pulled a blanket around me at the waist and stepped outdoors. There were my clothes and shoes in a pile, half soaking wet and half frozen. My barefeet were becoming like ice so I hopped back in the tent.

"Don't worry, love," said another voice, First Voice. She got up from a mound of blankets on the floor. "We have plenty of slough off." She turned and went to a trunk against the wall. Her ass was as round and as white as the moon. She came to me with an armload of clothes, all army issue. We picked out pants and a shirt, wool socks and army boots. The pants were a bit short and the boots a bit loose but otherwise all right. There was even a long gray coat with captain's insignia on the sleeve. I ended up with a left glove and right mitten. I would be dry and warm at least. I wondered at being in a uniform, mismatched though it was, but I would be far from the fighting.

I filled my pockets with my possessions. Before putting my wallet away I opened it and looked at First Voice. She was my age. A strand of hair with a touch of gray hung in her face, which still told of the prettiness of her youth. She smiled a little: "On the house, love." I noticed a purple bruise on her right breast and wondered if it was from me.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it. She kissed me on the cheek and patted my hindside then went to the cot where I had spent the night. I hoped it was still warm for her.

Outside, I grabbed my hat from the pile and put it on. I noticed the red tie poking from the debris like a serpent tongue. I took it too, as a keepsake. I briefly imagined giving a lecture on Anton Zlavik and the Battle of Lake Aurora and theatrically wearing the red tie as a sort of prop.

Though the sun was not quite up I could determine east by the brightness of the sky, which enabled me to get my bearings. Walking through the silent camp, I soon spotted the dining tent – I had not been so far off the mark after all – and then the pantry. I felt great relief and rushed to speak with Helena. It struck me then that I was missing her. We had spent so much time together it felt strange to be apart from her.

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