Lawfully Gifted Read online

  Puppy treats and a bone for Radar! No wonder she was pacing so happily. He quickly unwrapped the bone and gave it to the dog. She immediately went to town, gnawing happily, grunting and working it between her paws to hold it steady.

  There were drawing pencils, paper, envelopes and stamps. More Twinkies, of course – but there was also Chapstick’s, a large bag of beef jerky, a few lottery scratch-off tickets and toiletries. Pine scented body wash, deodorant, and shampoo. Small packages of chewing gum had been hastily shuffled everywhere in the mix of goodies. He popped the cap off the bottle and peeled back the foil seal, breathing deep the clean pine scent and closing his eyes in happiness.

  Home.

  This was an unexpected blessing and gift he’d not expected at all. No wonder everyone was staring at him as he walked through camp. The box was large and barely anyone got packages, much less letters anymore. Mail was precious and packages were infinitely more so. Generously, he handed out packages of gum to everyone until he ran out. He gave out the scratch tickets as well.

  “If you win? I’m mailing it back to her,” he ordered, a gentle reminder that it was for fun and basically useless here. He sat down beside Radar and opened the letter.

  “Read it out loud!” was shouted, and he nodded. He unfolded he paper and smelled a faint perfume. He found himself sniffing the paper before he realized it and cleared his throat. As he read the letter, he found himself hesitating as he realized it was a grown woman that had mailed the package.

  Lily wasn’t a kind-hearted kid, but rather a teacher with the heart of an angel. How could someone be so nice to a perfect stranger, so giving? He was nobody and had been blessed to have been assigned the number that paired her letter to him. Luck of the draw, and he felt like he’d won the lottery. Several of the men began patting him on the shoulder and laughing. One guy grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek playfully, mocking him as he sang “Oooooh Griffin, you ol’ stud, you!” in a sing song voice.

  John broke his pinky finger when he hit him.

  He regretted it immediately as he stormed back to the medical tent with the other man in tow, holding him by the scruff of his neck while they walked inside. The young man who decided to take it upon himself to mock him in front of everyone, now needed an icepack and to have his nose reset. John needed a split, more Tylenol, and an icepack himself for his hand.

  “What happened?”

  “I had a problem and took care of it,”

  “Corpsman- is that correct?”

  “Yes sir, I jumped in front of his fist,” he said with a bloodied smile, looking at John. He grinned at the catty answer. This boy had potential!

  “And you? Your hand magically discovered his broken nose?”

  “Oh no sir, it was worse. I fell into his face when I tripped.”

  “I see,” the nurse rolled his eyes and handed them icepacks. “You two are incorrigible and will be hurting something fierce.” The nurse walked off and John turned to the young man still clutching his nose, chuckling at the outrageous claim.

  “Let’s get one thing straight: You ever kiss me again and I will break both my hands next time. Are we clear?”

  “Sir? May I speak freely?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Chicks like men with character but no more playing around, I swear it. The ladies like rugged and I figured you scored me a girl next time I’m on leave, eh?” Unfortunately for him, due to the broken nose it sounded almost unintelligible as he spoke. Mix wike men wif character. Ice wear id. Core me a curl ex time I’m on weave.

  “Sure kid.” John nearly smiled at how foolish he looked and sounded. Had he ever been that young? “Now, you might have two black eyes if you don’t keep that icepack on there and stay quiet.”

  “Got it,” he mumbled erratically and put the icepack against his face again.

  Finger splinted and bone set, he headed to the small commissary that had been set up to get a bottle of Tylenol for himself. He could go to the doc to get it, but once he was done and hurting, both men would be looking for something to ease the ache. His temper had gotten the better of him and though he preached patience, he had a hard time practicing it. He bought the Tylenol and saw the tiny stand of postcards for men to easily drop word to their families. On a whim, he picked up one and paid.

  Once back in the tent, he struggled to write a letter in response. He was right handed and it was the pinky on that hand. Cursing, he almost gave up. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, praying for patience.

  “If you are listening, I need a little help. I want to get this mailed today and it’s important, okay?” he whispered awkwardly. It had been a long time since he’d asked for anything, feeling forgotten in the world. He managed to find a way to wedge the pen in his hand and began again.

  Lily,

  I’m sorry this will be short, but I wanted to thank you again for your extreme kindness. You seem to know exactly how I am feeling because the items you sent remind me so much of the trees back home. I haven’t seen hardly any trees in a long time. Rocks. There are rocks everywhere here. It meant a lot that you sent another box. Radar loves her bone and I shared the gum with the guys.

  He felt like he should say more but wasn’t sure exactly what. What did she look like? kept beating at his mind. Was she pretty? Why did she send another box or want a pen pal? Was she lonely? … like he was, he realized. John stared at the letter and re-read it again. Curiosity and hope were beating at him to know more about Lily. His hand was beginning to ache and throb from trying to hold the pen.

  What does Mr. Hogan think of you writing the soldiers out here? I hope he is as gentle and kind a soul as you are. I can’t think of anything I need, but I appreciate the offer. Honestly, your letters are giving me something to look forward to and I would like to continue sending them.

  John and Radar

  P.S. – no paw today. I broke my finger.

  John got up and whistled for Radar to join him. He was on a mission and determined to mail the letter as quickly as possible. The box had been postdated June 5th and it was already the 20th – just now receiving it. Fifteen days since she’d thought to mail it to him. He was curiously hopeful but for what, he didn’t know. He gave the letter quickly to the mail clerk and jogged back to his tent through camp. He hoped the letter made its way to her quickly, or at least left camp fast.

  Fifteen days to get here, that meant potentially thirty days of silence until his letter got to her. That was entirely too long, he thought with a confused frown, too long for me to know what she says, or if she’s single.

  5

  July 2015

  Tyler, Texas

  It was sweltering, and the humidity had to be well over ninety percent. Walking outside of the house was like getting slapped with a hot wet towel. Stifling. Lily wished for the crisp autumn days, or perhaps early spring when everything was coming to life. Not this dreary, debilitating heat that hit Texas mid-summer. Her yard was suffering horribly, and her water bill outrageous. She had to water her garden thoroughly every evening as the sun was going down to keep her poor plants from cooking. Her tomatoes were wilting and the leaves on her rose bushes were curling. They would have a respite in a month or two if she was lucky, but until then it was just her versus nature, nursing it along.

  Lily found herself trying to find ways to keep herself occupied, volunteering at the shelter just so she could love on some animals and give them back at the end of the day. She loved them but felt like she simply wasn’t the best fur-mommy they could have. She spent quite a bit of time at the school during the year and her only real free time was summer. She guessed that was why she was so tickled with the drawing of Radar’s paw print. It was something corny like she’d do, making her feel an instant comradery with the stranger.

  Today was a free day for her. She had nothing planned and was completely caught up on the housework. These were rare days indeed! Usually she had something she had to do, from going to the grocery to pulling weed
s or grading papers. But today was hers. She dug out the blow-up baby pool from last summer and inflated it, determined that if you couldn’t beat the heat? -you’d enjoy it! Her backyard was fenced, and backed up to a large field that hadn’t been developed yet. She had utter privacy and intended to lounge around all afternoon in a bikini that she’d never, ever, wear in public. If she was fortunate, she’d tan and not absolutely fry her pale skin.

  She dug out several books, deciding on her favorite romance. She’d read this book over and over again. There was something visceral that spoke to her reading about a brash, arrogant, hardheaded man that had a tremendous soft spot for a woman who loved him. She adored this story! Oh yes, she was on her third paperback copy since the others had fallen apart due to her reading it. She knew what was coming and anticipated the scenes, feeling herself well up with hormonal tears at the end when he knew he loved her. She just got just sappy thinking about it.

  Over the last few days, she’d found herself thinking about John, her pen-pal, wondering if he got her box and was pleased with it or thought it stupid of her. There was no doubting it, she was inherently insecure and shy.

  She thought of him often, which struck her as odd because he was a stranger – but to her, he was a safe stranger in her mind. He was on the other side of the planet. She never had to worry about a weirdo showing up or confronting her. She found it almost therapeutic to write to him, scribbling notes here and there for her to share with him. It’s like she was composing a letter that she didn’t intend to send. Last night’s letter was a prime example…

  John,

  I hope you and Radar are doing well. Today I spent the day at the animal shelter hugging and feeding the animals. My best friend, Sherry, passed away unexpectedly some time ago and I was just devastated. She had such a loving, giving heart and used to take in strays all the time. I don’t know how she did it, but she did.

  Sometimes, I will find a photo on my phone of us and it brings back those memories. I miss her. I hope you have someone you can turn to and call a friend. It’s hard when there is no one…I know. Tomorrow, I have the entire day to myself and I don’t know what to do with it. It’s crushing some days. I miss having a friend to talk to and these letters have really perked me up. I hope you don’t mind. I decided that instead of a pity party of one, I was going to spend the day laying in a pool in my backyard.

  Take care,

  Lily

  It was casual and truthful. She looked forward to writing and hoped he would mail her back. Just something, anything, to give her something to be happy about. She was lonely and it was eating at her. Just then, she thought of an idea. She took her phone and took a photo of her backyard. Just the corner of it where it was protected from the sun by a huge oak tree. She’d show him the greenery since he couldn’t see it himself. She almost took a picture of herself but decided against it. The man was probably not interested, and she was in a fanciful mood since she had a date with her romance book.

  The picture wasn’t bad at all; in fact, it was pretty spectacular. Her birdbath shimmered in the sunlight, showing the iridescent bottom, and all her roses were blooming around it perfectly. She had several roses; a climber called Joseph’s coat with a brilliant striped petal that she had tethered to her privacy fence, but near the birdbath was a teeny rose that bloomed prolifically- a fairy rose. Small, pink baby button roses glittered all over a green bush. A few terracotta pots were strategically placed to look almost like a cascading water fountain, except she had succulent plants that hung over the lip of each pot beautifully.

  Satisfied, she airdropped the photo to her printer and prayed she had enough color ink for it. As it printed slowly, she grabbed a towel and a bottle of suntan lotion, getting ready to walk out into the back yard where the pool water had been warming in the sun. The kiddie pool wasn’t very large at all, but it was enough to cool her down. She heard the mail slot on her front door squeak open and the flop of envelopes onto the tile entryway. She padded over barefoot and immediately grabbed the first letter that stood out.

  He’d wrote her!

  She tore open the envelope and devoured it, pouring over the words, and then re-reading it again just to make sure she’d not missed anything. Poor thing had broken his finger! She was glad his dog enjoyed the treats she’d sent. She could almost imagine the bitter yearning for something that reminded him of home. She felt it deep in her gut, that wistfulness that tore at her – yearning for companionship. She re-read the letter, her eyebrow arching.

  Mr. Hogan? What is he talking about? Is he trying to find out if she’s got a husband or boyfriend? She thought mystified, and sat down hard on the couch. Why? He’d never even see a photo of her and today was the first time she’d thought of even sending him something. What did he look like? Was he nice, young, old, short, tall? She had no idea, but maybe this was the friendship she was looking for – maybe he needed a friend too. She would have to think on how to answer his letter. This was weird, and she had so many questions flying through her head right now! She lay the letter down on the coffee table and stepped away from it – gathering up her towel and book.

  Laying in the water on her back in the shallow water, she rested her neck on the inflatable sides and propped her ankles on the other side. She slipped her sunglasses on and lay there basking in the warm sun…. thinking. She tried to read her book but kept wondering about John. What was he really like? Was he a good man, a Christian man? And that little niggling voice in the back of her mind kept whispering to her: was he good looking?

  Aggravated, she got up and practically tore into the house. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she had an answer, and that answer would take two to three weeks. She picked up the photo, testing to see if the ink had dried. She then did the unimaginable.

  She took a selfie in her bikini top.

  Frowning, she stared at it. Completely critical of how she looked, overanalyzing her features and wishing for what would simply not come. She wasn’t a super model, nor was she thin like other girls. She was curvy, with voluptuous curves that better suited styles from the fifties with their high waisted tight pants and wide skirts. Her nose was covered in freckles and she wished her eyelashes were thicker, and began to laugh at herself. Out of everything, she wished for thicker eyelashes and a thinner shaped face.

  Sighing, she took comfort in knowing that she was made exactly how she was supposed to be – and if he was worth knowing, then he would simply have to be okay with it. Friends saw the inside, she thought; they didn’t focus on the outside – and decided not to print her photo.

  Chicken, she thought. Folding the printed picture, she carefully put a clean sheet of paper with it so if the ink transferred, it would still resemble something recognizable. She then took out another sheet of paper and wrote him. She was candid and forthright, almost to the point of bluntness without trying to be rude.

  Hello John,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I must admit, I am a bit surprised you asked if there was a Mr. Hogan? No, there is no one. I am single (if I’ve read between the lines correctly) and am assuming you are as well. I confess, I have eagerly written a few times but haven’t mailed them to you – but perhaps I shall. I spend most of my time at the school during the year, but that won’t be starting for another month or so.

  What do you do in the military that took you to Afghanistan? Tell me about yourself. Hold nothing back please: habits, hobbies, temperament, beliefs, and what you look like. What brought you to have Radar at your side? Radar is a very curious name, so I’m sure there is a story there too as well. How on earth did you break your finger? I am truly sorry to hear this and imagine it hurts quite a bit.

  I have included a photo of my garden in the backyard. You seem to have a keen affinity for plants, as I do, so I thought I would share them. Do you have email or texting capabilities, since letters are tremendously slow? It might be better to assuage my curiosity or deal with any concern you or I might have that comes up, between mailing
s.

  As for myself, I am thirty-two years old with glasses. I have long brown hair and just over five feet tall. Nothing spectacular and pretty average. I thought about sending a photo but decided against it. It’s not necessary if we are to be good friends and pen pals. I could use a friend and assume you could as well.

  I look forward to hearing from you soon.

  God bless,

  Lily

  Staring at the letter, she scribbled her personal email at the bottom and her cell number. Her hand trembled as she realized that he could be anyone in the world and what she was doing could be dangerous if the situation changed and he came to the states. If that was the case, she would change her number immediately. She folded the letter and stamped it. She’d mail it tomorrow and perhaps pick up something to send with it.

  “I must be insane,” she muttered aloud to herself in disbelief at her boldness and her actions. Nothing ventured, nothing gained – so why did she feel like Daniel in the lion’s den, frightened, yet confident at the same time that her path was being guided from Above.

  6

  August 2015

  Ghazni, Afghanistan

  John knew the moment the mail arrived. He was walking through camp and the whistles and catcalls began. Instead of getting upset, he smiled sadly. They might call him ol’man, but the more he thought about it? The more he realized he was actually in his prime and it was time for him to plan on enjoying his life. He got a haircut instead of just getting in line to get buzzed like the other men. They quite often got the clippers out and gave each other free cuts when needed. No, he’d made up his mind and wanted to move on with his life. He was not re-upping at his twenty-year mark in November. He wanted to start the second part of his life.