Ask, Tell, page 7
trying to think while my stomach heaves. Every time I
almost manage to hold on to a thought, it dances around
my head as though it were a skittish horse shying away
from having its bridle put on.
Seeing someone.
Taking the boys.
If this were a movie, sad music would swell right now.
Close-up on my stunned face. Let the letter drop and show a
slow-motion pan to fluttering paper. But this isn’t a movie. I
can’t grab a fistful of popcorn and shake my head thinking
poor bitch, but hey she should have known it was coming.
This is real life and there’s nothing here except for this mess
in my hand as the only remnant of our relationship. There
you go, Vic, there’s your fucking metaphor.
I close my eyes, trying to conjure up some memories of
us. Happy ones. Ones which will make it easier for me to be
angry about what she’s done. I can’t think of anything right
now. The only thing I can think is that she’s cheating on me
and she’s taking the boys. My pets.
A nerve twitches in my cheek. I make a decision. I’m going
to call her. I need to hear her say it and I don’t care what
time it is at home. Who the fuck ends a nine-year
relationship with less than half a page of words? I fold the
letter and shove it deep into the back pocket of my pants.
My legs tremble as I walk to the phone room.
It’s empty, so I choose the booth in the corner and drop
heavily onto the chair. It takes a moment while the credit
left on my phone card is calculated. I know her cell number
by heart, even with international dialing requirements but
when I go to push the numbers my brain freezes. It’s like the
dream where I need to dial 911 but every time I try, I fumble
it or can’t remember the correct sequence.
I press the earpiece of the phone to my forehead. “Shit.
Shit.” Think. No, don’t think. That’s your problem, Sabine.
You’re overthinking it. I stare blindly out the window until it
comes to me. I press each number hard, lifting the handset
to my ear. It seems to ring forever. There’s always a delay
with these calls as if our words must bounce off all the
satellites in space.
Finally, she picks up. “Hello?”
“Vic? It’s me.” I have to assume she still knows who me is.
The sounds of laughter and live music reverberate in my
ear. I glance at my watch. Nearly midnight in D.C.
“Sabine?” Vic sounds wary. She’s probably unsure if her
letter arrived. “Uh…hi babe. Give me a moment and I’ll go
outside.” The irony of her calling me babe is not lost on me.
I hear muffled sounds and I fidget for a minute before she’s
back. “Couldn’t hear a damned thing in there.”
I see no point in wasting either my time or phone credit. “I
got your letter.”
The sound of a lighter sparking clicks in my ear. “Oh. I was
wondering about it.” She says no more, leaving it for me to
pick up the conversation. I hear her inhale on a cigarette.
She’s smoking again. She knows I’ve always hated her
smoking.
“I’m not going to lie, Vic. I’m pretty fucking upset. Can we
talk about it?” I am met with silence. I grind my teeth.
“Hello?”
“I’m here. These damned calls. Look, Sabine, there’s no
point. Nothing’s going to change. The distance and
uncertainty. I can’t handle it and now you’re thinking of
staying in the military…”
The implication hangs between us. It’s my fault. As she
speaks, I realize she isn’t cold but very matter-of-fact. It hits
me. She’s been sitting on this for some time. She picked up
and moved on from our relationship a long time ago. Far
earlier than I had. I hear noise in my ear, but I barely hear
her words. It’s only when there is no sound that I realize it’s
my turn to say something.
The sound escaping my mouth is a cross between a snort
and a choked grunt. “So we’re just going to call it quits after
all this time? Just like that? After nine fucking years? I’ll be
home in three months, Vic. You couldn’t have fucking waited
to tell me in person?” I’m staring out the window, watching
a group of men running PT drills in the morning sun. I
wonder why I’m fighting it instead of just lying down tamely.
It’s not like we haven’t been moving toward this.
Vic inhales again. “Three months, then they’ll send you
back. I thought this was the best way, Sa—” I hear a muffled
thud and a muted, “No, it’s fine. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She comes back on the line. “Look, I’m sorry, Sabs. I really
am but I can’t help how I feel. You know we haven’t worked
for a long time.”
I suppose at least she made some apology. As a rule she
never apologizes. Her standard is I’m sorry if this upsets you
not I’m sorry I upset you. I clench my molars. “What’s her
name?”
The answer is immediate. “Kate.”
“How long?”
There’s a long pause before she answers me. “Almost two
years.”
It started during my first deployment. She was with this
woman when I last came home. Oh God. The trembling in
my knees increases. “Jesus Christ. Why didn’t you tell me
sooner? Why waste both of our time?” An even more
terrifying thought comes to me. “Vic, do I need to get tested
for anything?”
“No! Jesus, no and I don’t know why I waited.” Her voice is
quiet. “I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe you and I, maybe we
could fix it.”
Fix it after she’s been fucking another woman for all this
time. I snort at her audacity. “Where are you now? Where
are you taking the boys?”
“I’m moving to Colorado, Sabine.”
“Vic. Why the fuck are you moving to Colorado?” My left
hand is a fist. I force myself to release it.
“Kate got a job there. We leave the day after tomorrow.”
Vic clears her throat and the sound of her taking another
drag filters through to me.
A hot flush builds at the bottom of my neck as I realize
what she is saying. “Why can’t you leave the boys with
Jana?” My voice cracks up an octave and the pounding of
my heart makes me feel like I am choking. I can’t deal with
this. My stomach twists and I have to swallow bile to stop
myself from puking on the floor.
Vic’s voice is full of indignation. “Why? Because they are
mine too, Sabine. You’ll probably be sent overseas again
and your sister works full time.”
I sit slumped in the chair with my head hanging almost
between my knees. She could have said something when
we spoke the other day and then I could have at least
known. Vic’s not cruel. It makes no sense. I’m crying and I
swipe my palm over my face. There is silence between us
and I need to fill it.
“What about the house bills? How am I supposed to pay
them while I’m away?”
“Well…it’s your house so technically your problem. Maybe
your sister could find time to collect your mail and pay your
bills for you.”
“Sure,” I say weakly. “I just don’t…I don’t get why now.”
Vic’s inner cynic, the one I always tease her about, isn’t so
amusing when she says, “Because I realized that being a
military wife won’t work for me, Sabine, and I want to move
on. Let’s be honest, you’re so afraid of disappointing your
family that you’re probably going to stay in the army for the
rest of your life.”
I say the first thing that comes into my head, spitting
words through gritted teeth. “Fuck you, Victoria. FUCK. YOU.
You fucking adulterous, animal stealing cunt!” I slam the
receiver down as hard as I can and leap out of the chair. It
wobbles and I help it on its way with a hard kick. The chair
clatters to the floor, rocking back and forth. I contemplate
picking it up and throwing it against something.
With my back pressed against the wall and hands cupped
over my mouth, my chest heaves as I try to control my
anger. I cannot even begin to process what has just
transpired. Logically, I know she has cheated on me and we
have now broken up but when my mind slides around to
really thinking about how I feel about it, something slams
down in my brain like a portcullis. I need to tell someone. I
pick up the phone again and dial my sister. Jana answers
halfway through the incoherent message I’m leaving on her
machine.
She listens wordlessly as I try to explain through
hiccupping sobs and words tumbling over one another. She
makes no judgment and offers no advice, simply asking me
in a voice hoarse with interrupted sleep, “What can I do?”
I have settled down to where I can speak coherently and I
give her my instructions. First, I want the bed gone along
with all the linens, blankets and duvets. I want it gone. I can
deal with the rest later, but for now the thought of Victoria
in our bed with someone else sickens me. I want my locks
changed so she can no longer get in to our house. My
house. Vic said it herself—my house, my problem. My
parents gave me money for a deposit as my graduation
present, wanting me to have somewhere to settle once I’m
done with the army. I’m the only one making payments and
my name is the only one on the deed.
“Jana, can you just sell the stuff or give it away or fucking
burn it? I just want it gone when I get home. Can you do
that for me please? And pay the bills in the mail, and
change the garage door opener too. And can you tell Mom
and Daddy?” I choke on the last few words.
Jana’s voice is soft, soothing. “Of course, Sabbie. Do you
want me to get Caesar and Brutus?”
“I d-d-don’t even know wh-where she is,” I stammer. I
haven’t stammered since I was seven. Get a grip, Fleischer.
“Okay, okay, don’t cry, honey. I’ll sort it out for you.”
“Thank you.” I hang up the phone without a goodbye,
because there are no more words left. I leave the chair lying
on the floor. People are faceless when I stumble past them. I
go past the chow hall, snatch up a water bottle and push my
way outside, breathing in the hot dusty air. I continue on
past the barracks, breaking into a jog. I need to move before
I explode.
It is just before ten hundred hours and already the heat is
oppressive, though there is barely any humidity. I pick up
my pace, heading to the worn dirt running track and I don’t
slow down once I get there. Usually I would take a moment
to admire the line of mountain range meeting deep blue sky
but today I just don’t care. I run around and around as the
sun continues to rise and sweat begins to pour from my
body. I want to run until all I can think about is how
exhausted, hot and sweaty I am. I want to run until all
thoughts of my life with my now ex-girlfriend have been
detoxed in gallons of sweat.
I run for fifteen minutes. Twenty-three. Thirty-one. It’s not
working. Her words stay in my brain, repeating constantly in
the rhythm of my running.
Taking them.
Seeing someone.
Nearly two years.
Colorado.
I imagine my pets having to go on a plane. Brutus will be
shitty about being caged, howling and sticking his paws
through the bars. Caesar will be excited to be in the car
going for an outing, hanging out of the window with his ears
flapping in the wind. He’ll go into a crate without issues. I
try to imagine what Kate looks like. Does she look like me,
or is she my total physical opposite? I think of Vic fucking
this faceless woman and have to stop abruptly to lean over
the edge of the running track and vomit.
I stand bent over with my hands on my knees. I wipe my
mouth and wait to see if anything else is going to come up.
No. I swish water into my mouth to eliminate the bad taste.
She’s seeing someone. I know Vic. She would have fucked
her in our bed. Does this Kate wear my clothes, or drink out
of our cups and use our cutlery? Of course she does. I turn
back to the track and start moving again. I don’t know what
to do. What can I do? I’m not there, I’m here. She has left
me and taken them and gone to someone else, somewhere
else. I’m fucking helpless.
Mitch jogs out of the barracks to join me. Someone must
have told him I’m out running around in the sun like a crazy
person. I wave him off and run away. I don’t want to talk. I
want to be silent. I want to forget. But I don’t forget. If
anything, it feels as though the horror of this experience is
growing. It’s a deep ache that sits right in the core of my
body.
After fifty-eight minutes, my legs are jelly and my gait has
turned from a run into a shuffle. Another person
approaches. I ignore them too. When I come around near
the building on the long side of the track, I see it’s Colonel
Keane. Fuck you, Mitch. He’s sent one of the few people I
can’t ignore.
My lungs burn. I slow to a walk fifty yards away, moving
toward her with my hands on the small of my back, trying to
catch my breath. Keane stands relaxed as she waits for me
to approach. I come to attention in front of her, aware my
shirt is drenched and sticking to me. I’m sure my face is
bright red from exertion. My feet hurt from running for so
long in boots and now that I’ve stopped, I’m rather queasy. I
keep my distance and try to gulp in air. “Good morning,
Colonel.” My breath probably smells like puke. I slide my
tongue over my teeth.
She looks me over and offers me another bottle of water.
“Captain Fleischer, may I inquire what you’re doing out here
running around in this heat?”
I tuck the empty bottle under my arm and take the full
one from her. “Thank you, ma’am. I…I’m trying to acclimate
for my New York Marathon training.” Ha-ha. Good one,
Sabine.
Her lips twitch. “They run that in fall, not summer.” She
steps closer to me. “I don’t think it’s comparable to current
conditions.” Keane pulls her shades off and stares me in the
eyes. I am squinting without my own sunglasses. “Sabine, I
cannot think of anything or anyone who is worth a dose of
heat exhaustion. Go inside, get to the showers and cool
down. That’s an order.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I detect something in her eyes that looks like pity before
she pivots and strides purposefully away.
Chapter Eight
People are staring as I trudge back to my room and their
gaze makes my skin crawl. I can only assume they are
gossiping about me. Whatever. It wouldn’t be the first time
and it won’t be the last. Personnel on base talk and we talk
about everyone. I sneak in to my empty room, collect
shower things, a fresh uniform and mostly-full laundry bags
ready for my sweaty clothes.
A few shower stalls are occupied. Why can’t I ever just
fucking shower by myself? The sound of two women
conversing, loud and obnoxious, fills the space so I find a
stall as far away from them as I can. I try to concentrate on
the comforting familiarity of my preshower routine while I
wait for the shower to heat up.
After a few minutes the water is still cold, but it will have
to do. It’s only when I’m halfway through my shower that I
realize I never turned the hot water on. Well done, Sabine. I
take my time washing my hair and wonder idly if
masturbation would help me feel any better.
Before I make a decision either way, I’m surprised to hear
my name float over from the other side of the room. I step
out from under the spray so I can hear them better. Yes,
they are talking about me. It seems the grapevine has
flowered quickly today. I’m not surprised, very little escapes
the eyes and ears of this place.
The conversation carries easily, though I can’t quite tell
who the two voices are. Ladies, don’t you know the first rule
of gossiping? Make sure the subject of your gossip is not in
earshot. Amateurs. The thought of someone being so stupid
would be amusing, if it weren’t for my current mood. I rinse
my hair, turn the water off and begin to dry myself.
