chapter five — tense©
[ jasmine. ]
"honey is sweet but bees [WASP] stings." -proverb.
i sat directly on the shore while the waves became soft and nonexistent, gently pulling up and reaching my legs as i took a sip of beer from a can, intently watching the sunset.
suddenly, i was getting a call. i looked at the caller ID and swore under my breath, but answered anyway. "hello?" i greeted, acting as if i hadn't experimentally read the contact name over thrice to see if the name would magically change.
"jasmine, it's your father." "yeah, i know, dad." i replied to the formal tone with a cut-through casual voice. i could spot his small country accent even through the phone.
"how are you?" "not much different as i was two weeks ago. fine, alive. on a beach this time around." he laughed over the line, "can't stay away from it, can ya? i was just calling to check in, make sure you haven't killed yourself yet." i rolled my eyes at the sun that was almost gone. "yeah, dad, i'm fine." from over my shoulder, i could hear mickey calling to me, "hey, honey, come on, we're headed to the hard deck !" i looked over, holding up one finger, "i'll be there in a couple ! don't wait up !" and turned back around.
"...still in that psycho camp, i see." i rolled my eyes as he caught onto my call sign mickey yelled to me. "dad, stop it. it's not like i suddenly quit. grandpa fought in the military, the navy, too. even went to top gun !" my country accent started to expose. "yes, but a lady should never be out there, in danger." "dad, i'm already out in the wild 'danger' the moment i step out of my home. at least in the navy, i have learned to drop bombs onto the danger." "you can never take anything seriously, can you, jasmine wells?"
i rolled my eyes for what felt like the thousandth time in the last two minutes. "not when you're bringing up some bullshit point like you are right now. like you always do. it's like you want me to push me away from you." i shook my head. "you're impossible, jasmine." "gee, i wonder where i got it from. whatever, bye." "jasmi—" i hung up on him.
i dropped the phone onto the wet sand beside me, suddenly frustrated. i turned around, spotting a couple more people packing up to go shove their stuff into their car before going to the hard deck to go get drunk and play pool. i let out a hard breath, looking down at the space between my bent legs to see a small white speck peeking out from the damp sand.
i dug into it, and out came a sand dollar. i slightly smiled at it, washing it in the salty water before kissing it and setting it on top of my surfboard beside me.
the breeze was soft and patient, and even though i was just enjoying the sunset minutes ago, i suddenly felt myself pointing out all of the things i disliked in my view. like the way i hated the sand that was going to stick to my legs when i got up, or the way the beach got quiet around this time. too quiet. or the— "hey, you okay?" i looked up to see bob standing there, shirt back on and staring down at me. i didn't dislike that.
i blew out a large breath, changing my gaze from him to the ocean. "my dad called." i indirectly answered. he stood there for another moment, but soon sat down beside me in an informal fashion. "...everything alright?" he asked unsurely. "same as always. couldn't last 30 seconds with me on the phone without picking a fight about me being in the navy." i tried to shrug it off. "how are you feeling?" he turned to me, scrunching his nose to keep his glasses on his face, knowing how i was after speaking with my father.
i thought about it for a moment, and then, i realized my brain was jumping from one subject to another in the background, trying to get myself back to normal. i was subconsciously asking myself questions, spinning around and doing so so naturally that i didn't even notice.
"tense." i admitted. i used that word so much i should get a copyright for it. he lightly nodded, "...is there anything i can do to help?" i shook my head, rolling my eyes to the back of my skull. "no, no, it's okay. i'll just... my brain will be reprogrammed in a day or two, nothing to worry about." "that's... not healthy." bob told me. i shrugged, keeping my attention focused on the sun, "it's the only way i've managed. only way i know."
"what other ways have you tried?" i tilted my head, thinking, opening my mouth to speak, but closed it. i did that twice more. "...none. i guess i always have so much going on i don't have any other way." "is that how you dealt with your friend?"
my jaw stiffened. is it? "...no. i guess i cried a lot, i couldn't really keep it in because other people around me were dealing with it, so, we all just talked about her." "so, you talked about it." "yeah, i guess." i nodded, glancing at him. he was looking back at me. i turned back to the setting sun.
"y'know, never once have i heard you ever talk about your dad except for when you briefly explained why you were acting crabby." i laughed, noting i was starting to tear up now. "who uses the word 'crabby'?"
he caught attention of the gargled effect on my voice, and leaned forward to see a small tear leaving my eye. "oh, no, don't cry, i'm sorry." he panicked. i laughed again, softly shaking my head, "it's okay, i don't even notice i do it sometimes." "that's also not healthy." he pointed out. i chuckled, pushing a braid behind my ear, "no, probably not." he was probably right. who cried without even noticing?
"i guess... it's really hard to express emotions around here. you're a soldier and nothing else... and it sucks. but i love it here. it's a part of me. my dad just never seemed to get it. my grandpa was in the navy and was even in top gun. why can't i without being ridiculed?" i spoke with a quivering smile. i felt another tear slide off my face and into the sand, joining the rest of the water.
"i dealt with the same thing. when i said i was going to the army, my dad went... wild." he admitted, twiddling his fingers. i turned my head to him, confused. "why? you're a guy."
he chuckled, "sure, but not a masculine one. well, in his eyes, anyway. to be a man, you had to not spend your afternoons braiding your sister's hair and get into fights at school and never show any sort of emotion. i couldn't even talk to a guy at my school without being scared shitless, how was i supposed to fight them? and that's just... not who i am." "of course not. and that's good."
"really? how?" i gave him a glare, "do you think if every guy was exactly like your dad wants, like hangman, do you think that i would've stayed here this long? i stay here because of guys like you and reuben and mickey and, hell, even rooster ! you make this," i gestured to everything around us, "better. for me, anyway. makes me get out of bed every day." "...i guess i never really thought about it that way." he said, blushingly looking down at the water wading out back to the ocean.
in the small period of stillness, i calmly rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating through his shirt.
"how many sisters do you have, again?" i tightened the grip of my arms locked around my knees. "three. two older, one younger, six years between all of us." "wow. i could never imagine having a sibling with everything i went through... i don't think i would be in the military." i thought aloud.
