~ In Dreams ~

by

Gary Sand

The Florida air was palpable with the bouquet of citrus blossoms and the earthy, pungent odor of damp tropical vegetation. Crushing humidity from the recently concluded rain shower made clothing stick to skin as if glued. Wisps of steam rose leisurely from the blacktop as it slowly dried in the sun. It was a typical, late spring day in central Florida.

The missile combat crews had finished performing a simulated launch and after stowing their equipment, the school commander released everyone from duty for the rest of the day. Greg was walking back to his barracks from the training compound when Dean saw him from across the street and hurried to catch up. They walked together for a ways before Dean spoke.

“Sandi’s really pissed off. You better give her a call.”

Greg winced. “Yeah, I’m sure she is.”

“I talked to the redhead last night and she said Sandi can’t understand what she did wrong, and why you won’t write or call her.”

“Shit…I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to tell her. My folks don’t want us to get married and neither does her mother. Mrs. Blake even wrote my mom and dad, asking them to talk me out of it and they seriously tried to convince me to do that when I was home on leave. They keep saying we should at least wait until I make buck-Sergeant, but damn it, Dean, that’s a year away at minimum, and probably more. How can I put her off until then?

“With only two stripes and little more than a year in the service, I don’t make enough money to get married and support a wife, and I’m scared to death to even think about it. Everyone says we’re too young and maybe they’re right. I don’t know what to do, Dean. Sandi’s already half-way here, visiting relatives in Kentucky, and she’s waiting for me to tell her when I’m supposed to graduate so she can come down and we can get married. I don’t know what to tell her.”

“You might try telling her the truth.”

Greg laughed without humor.

“Tell her I think we’re too young to get married and it would be best if she returned to Denver and waited until I get out of the Air Force in another three years? Yeah, right! That would go over like a lead balloon!”

“Yeah, my friend, tell her the truth about what’s bothering you, or tell her you don’t want to get married at all, so she doesn’t have to wait for you and can get on with her life. On the other hand, you could ignore your folks and tell her to come on down so you can get married next week. You’re both old enough that you don’t need their permission any more.

”You’ve been bullshitting her too long by claiming you have to wait to graduate first. You know damn well it doesn’t make any difference. You could get permission from the squadron commander in a few days. For Christ’s sake, Greg, just tell her something so she can make a decision! You’re being a real asshole the way you’re treating her now, and she’s too damn nice to be treated that way!”

“Don’t you think I know that? But if I was sure of the right thing to do, I’d do it.”

“Well, do something, buddy. What you’re doing now isn’t the right thing, and you know it. Shit or get off the pot,” he said with unconcealed aggravation. “I gotta go…see you later.”

“Yeah…hey, do you want to go to the Airman’s Club and grab a beer tonight?”

“Can’t do it….I have to study for a test tomorrow, which means no beer for me tonight. Listen, buddy, I know it’s not always easy, but you gotta grow up some day.”

Coming from Dean, the words stung, but in his heart, he knew he rightly deserved them.

After Dean jogged away, Greg unbuttoned the pocket of his fatigue shirt and removed the letter he had received from Sandi that morning. He found a dry spot to sit in the shade of a Spanish moss-draped live oak and read the letter for the third time.

My Dearest Greg,

I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but I’m sorry if I said or did something to make you mad. This is the fourth letter I’ve written since I last heard from you and you still haven’t written back. I wait for the mailman every day, hoping and praying there will be a letter from you, but I’m always disappointed. I wait by the phone every night and you don’t call. I don’t even call Mom because I don’t want the line to be busy if you decide to call me. I’m so lonesome for you, I could just die, and I cry myself to sleep every night.

I still don’t know if I’m pregnant or not. It’s been more than three months since I’ve had my period, but for some reason I don’t feel like I have a baby inside me. I’m still too scared to tell anyone and I don’t know if I want to have a baby now. I would really like to have a baby if we were married, but I’m scared to be alone and pregnant if you don’t love me anymore.

I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. I know you are working long hours and have to study a lot, so you don’t have much time to write.

You probably wouldn’t recognize me now. I’ve been working in the fields every day and I’m brown as an Indian. Maybe it’s because daddy was Cherokee. Ha-ha! I’m getting muscles too! I hope you don’t mind a girl with muscles. I promise not to beat you up!

I went to church with my cousins today. They belong to the Methodist Church and that’s the first time I’ve ever been to one. You know I’m not very good when it comes to attending church, but I need something to make the days go faster, or I’ll go crazy. The preacher gave a good sermon and I was glad I decided to go. I prayed really hard that you would write, and praying seemed okay to do even if I don’t go to church very often. I hope my prayers will be answered.

Do you know yet when your class will graduate? I checked with the railroad and I can get a ticket to Orlando for $12. There is a train leaving every weekday, so I can come any day it works best for you. Besides room and board, my cousin is paying me a little bit to help him on the farm, so I can afford the ticket. The train arrives in Orlando at 10PM, so you could meet me after duty hours and not get in trouble. Maybe a Friday would be best, so you don’t have to go to school the next day.

Greg, I love you so much and I feel so lost. Please, please call me and tell me you still love me!!!

I’ll hug my pillow tonight and pretend it’s you, but it won’t be the same.

With all my love,

Sandi

P.S. I’ll stay home every night next week and maybe you can find time to call. I know calling long distance is expensive, but just talk long enough to tell me what to do and to let me hear your voice again.

P.P.S I love you!

Greg folded the letter and angrily stuffed it back into the envelope. He knew he had to write and tell her he still loved her, and he had to explain what was happening and why his feelings were in such turmoil.

I don’t know what I’m going to say, but I’ll write her tonight.

~ * ~

One day, near the end of summer, Greg picked up his mail from the squadron mailroom and found a small package waiting for him. He recognized the neat feminine handwriting on the address and immediately knew what was inside. There was no letter, not even a note…only the insured package. Several weeks had passed since he last heard from Sandi, and in the letter she had begged him to let her know if he no longer wanted her. Even that failed to elicit a response from him, so it was no shock to see his ring returned.