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      Two stories, actually, or maybe

      a pair of epic poems. “So far, Cole

      has only been assigned to one PDS.”

      Except for deployments, you

      mean. Not like they’d send families

      chasing their soldiers into Iraq

      or Afghanistan. With the coming

      draw-down, who knows where

      he’ll go? Are you ready to follow

      him wherever? Especially if you have

      kids one day? It’s worth thinking about.

      The military is a highly engineered

      machine. It’s only as good as the sum

      of its parts, however, and its parts

      are fragile. But easily replaced.

      Cole, fragile? Not so much.

      But I’m not about to argue

      the point. “Thanks, Mr. Clinger.

      Guess there’s a lot to consider.”

      I START TO TURN AWAY

      Ms. Patterson? Er . . . Ashley?

      You forgot this. He offers me

      Cole’s poem. I’m sorry if I seemed

      unsympathetic. This really is good.

      Tell your boyfriend when he’s done

      defending freedom, he really should

      do something with his writing.

      The tension between us dissolves.

      “Thanks. I’ll be sure to let him know.

      He’ll probably freak that I showed

      it to you, but I really wanted to get

      your opinion.” I reach for the paper

      and our fingers brush, initiating

      a totally unexpected electric jolt.

      Holy crap! What was that? My hand

      jerks back, zapped, and my cheeks react

      with a furious blush—half shame,

      half ridiculous lust for a man who is

      my professor. A man who is several

      years older than I. A man who most

      definitely is not Cole. “S-s-sorry,”

      I stutter. Stupid! What am I, twelve?

      THE REAL QUESTION

      Is, why am I apologizing? And,

      to whom? Mr. Clinger smiles

      at my obvious consternation.

      Oddly, I smile back, despite

      my discomfort at what just

      transpired between us. Or,

      maybe nothing at all did. Maybe

      I imagined the whole thing.

      But I don’t think so. There

      is some weird chemistry here.

      Travel safely, Ashley. Let’s find

      a good time next week for you

      to make up that test. By the way,

      we’re moving to spoken word

      poetry next week. Here . . .

      He scribbles some names on

      a personalized Post-it. If you have

      a few minutes before I see you

      again, check them out on YouTube.

      He offers the paper, and I take it

      gingerly, hope he doesn’t notice

      the way my hand is shaking.

      I glance at what he’s written.

      “Oh, I know Rachel McKibbens

      and Taylor Mali. Alix Olson, too.”

      His grin widens. Of course

      you do. Have a great trip.

      I MANAGE

      To make it through the rest of the day

      without getting turned on by another

      professor. Or fellow student, campus

      policeman, or janitor. To be fair to myself,

      it has been a few months since I’ve seen

      Cole, but I’ve successfully sequestered

      the thought of sex with him, or anyone.

      Until today. But to say what happened

      earlier meant nothing at all would be

      a lie. In that moment, I wanted to fuck

      Mr. Clinger. Jonah. That’s the name

      on the Post-it, above the slam poets.

      Some tiny, niggling splinter of me

      was desperate to fuck Jonah Clinger

      and all the rest of me believes that

      shard is a no-good traitor. And tonight

      that’s what I’m obsessing about.

      Not research. Not writing the paper due

      Wednesday. Not packing bikinis

      and sexy nighties to wear for Cole. Nope.

      Instead, I’m trying to drown every

      recurring image of Jonah in a huge glass

      of Chardonnay. Doesn’t seem to

      be working. Maybe if it was tequila

      I’d have half a chance. Instead, I keep

      flashing back to ice blue (not golden) eyes.

      I need someone to talk to. But who?

      Darian, my forever friend, who’s likely

      dumping her Marine husband for

      a guy who’s definitely dumping his Air

      Force–focused wife? Probably not

      my best choice. My other local friends

      are UCSD students with no military

      ties. I already talked to Sophie today,

      and got her to agree to watch

      my apartment. After all the hype

      I just fed her about needing to see

      the love of my life before he leaves

      for Afghanistan, how could I possibly

      discuss the seedier side of my psyche?

      Brittany, who’s all sass and easy sex,

      no desire for commitment, ever (at least

      until she finds someone actually worth

      committing to?). Another wrong call.

      I PACE THE APARTMENT

      Putting out of place things back

      into place. Tossing stuff that needs

      tossed. Seeking order in disorder.

      I dust. Vacuum. Clean counters,

      sinks, and the toilet. At least when

      I get back from Hawaii, everything

      will be in its place and I can dive

      straight back into my class work

      without having to do this stuff first.

      Finally, I refill my glass. Turn on

      my computer. Cruise over to YouTube

      and some of the best spoken word

      poets in the world. I’m not familiar

      with a couple on this list, but before

      I’m through watching, I will be.

      There is order in this, too. I can read

      my poetry out loud, but this is pure

      performance. Rhythmic. Bold. Passionate.

      Sort of like great sex. The kind I’ll

      have in a couple of days. With Cole

      Gleason. Not Jonah Clinger. Stop it,

      already. I turn off my computer, reach

      for my pen and the notebook I write

      poetry in. Find order in formal verse.

      SLOW BURN

      by Ashley Patterson

      What happens to kisses never kissed—

      those we pretend not to have missed?

      Do they fall from our lips and settle, silt,

      compress into fossils, layered in guilt;

      Do they crumble like wishes, their magic lost,

      or wither and curl, seedlings chewed by frost;

      or perhaps they take flight, buoyant as screams,

      to tempt us again in the heat of our dreams.

      What is the ultimate cost of kisses not kissed?

      What becomes of passion we choose to resist?

      Does it sink like hope on a cloudy morning,

      mire us with doubt, muted forewarning;

      Does it rise from the groin, seeking the brain,

      creeping like quicksilver, vein into vein,

      to bewilder, an answer we cannot discern,

      or smolder, a candle condemned to slow burn?

      What can we say about passion dismissed,

      or the import of kisses consciously missed?

      Scorned passion is truth we’re doomed to forget,

      kisses wasted, the weight of final regret.

      Rewind

      IN THE DAYS

      Right before Cole
    shipped out

      for his first Iraq tour, his enthusiasm

      was almost contagious. Almost.

      When he’d call, he’d talk about

      a hundred klicks (military speak

      for kilometers) a minute. Fallujah,

      here we come! Get ready for a major

      ass-whooping. Did you hear about

      that sonofabitch suicide bomber

      at that funeral? Crazy bastard!

      If he harbored the tiniest hint

      of fear, he never confessed it,

      and it never, ever showed. In fact,

      he felt immortal. Untouchable.

      The way he’d been trained to believe.

      Personally, I was thrilled for him.

      Petrified for me. Fallujah.

      I did my research, and it scared

      the crap out of me. When this

      whole Iraq mess started, Fallujah

      was, according to everything I read,

      the “deadliest city” in the country,

      a stronghold of insurgency, and

      who knew, exactly, who the bad

      guys were or where they hid

      their weapons? When coalition

      forces first went in, casualties

      were assumed—and that included

      civilians. Bombs aren’t selective.

      And grenades truly are colorblind.

      Killing women and children

      is not conducive to goodwill.

      It took years to rebuild, and

      by the time Cole arrived in Iraq,

      the corner had been turned.

      That’s what they were saying,

      and I clung to that. Cole and his

      buddies, however, were primed

      for a fight. And that worried me

      more than the very real threat

      of IEDs or stray bullets. The peace

      that had been forged was fragile.

      Depending on who was doing

      the talking, the silence in the streets

      represented a suffocating culture.

      The Iraqi police force was no kinder

      to Fallujah citizens than U.S. soldiers,

      looking for trouble where perhaps none

      lurked. Or perhaps it did. The situation

      was confused, even if it wasn’t chaotic.

      WHEN COLE ARRIVED

      In the Anbar Province, communication

      became less frequent, and actual calls

      were rare. He did send fairly regular e-mails

      from Camp Fallujah’s Internet café.

      At first, they were tinged with excitement.

      YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE THIS PLACE. IMAGINE

      A GHOST TOWN. TOMBSTONE OR SOMETHING.

      ONLY IT’S A GHOST CITY. MOST OF IT HASN’T

      BEEN REBUILT SINCE THE 2004 OFFENSIVE.

      IT LOOKS LIKE A BUNCH OF STONE SKELETONS.

      BUT, SOMEWHERE IN THE GUTS OF THOSE

      RUINS ARE FUCKING INSURGENTS, BUSY

      BUILDING IEDS AND POKING THEIR HEADS

      UP JUST LONG ENOUGH TO TAKE POTSHOTS

      AT US. BY GOD, WE’RE GOING TO SMOKE

      THE MOTHERFUCKERS OUT AND SQUASH

      THEM LIKE HORNETS. AND IF THEY’RE PISSED

      HORNETS, SO MUCH THE BETTER. ON ANOTHER

      NOTE, PLEASE SEND SOUR CANDY AND CIGS.

      DOESN’T MATTER WHAT KIND. I CAN TRADE.

      LOVE YOU. MISS YOU. I’D SAY WISH YOU WERE

      HERE BUT I DON’T. TOO MANY PERVS AROUND.

      AS THE WEEKS WORE ON

      E-mail often became gripe mail.

      The Fallujah action had slowed

      in the months before Cole’s unit

      arrived. Courageous Marines spent

      less time actively being brave and

      more time training Iraqi policemen

      to handle local issues. The city

      had been divided into walled-off

      sections. The locals were required

      to travel by foot and show military-

      issued ID in order to move between

      neighborhoods. As Cole wrote,

      WE MAN CHECKPOINTS AND KEEP

      CURFEWS AND HELP REBUILD

      INFRASTRUCTURE. ALL OF US ARE

      JONESING FOR ACTION. AIN’T HAPPENING.

      He complained a lot that first swing,

      but I was happy to hear casualty

      counts for his unit remained steady

      at zero. Once in a while, an e-mail

      would hint at ugliness. HAD A LITTLE

      EXCITEMENT. CAUGHT TWO DUDES

      TRYING TO PLANT AN IED. WE BLEW

      THAT MOFO SKY HIGH. ALMOST FELT

      SORRY FOR THOSE HAJJIS THOUGH.

      THE IRAQIS HAULED THEM OFF OUT

      OF SIGHT. CAN’T SAY FOR SURE BUT

      I DOUBT THEY MADE IT TO LOCKUP.

      SOME TIME LATER

      I became aware of free press

      stories leaking out of Iraq. Stories

      about detaining Sunni Arabs

      for no other reason than that’s what

      they were, and locking them up for

      months or more, no judge, no jury,

      not even a day in court. Sometimes

      their families didn’t hear of their fate

      for a very long time. Sometimes

      they just disappeared. Other stories

      made it very clear that all the American

      goodwill we saw on videos—delivering

      boxes of food or handing out candy

      to children—was tolerated, not

      celebrated, as we in the U.S. believed.

      Tootsie Pops and MREs hardly

      compensated for destroying

      the Fallujah economy or executing

      its men. Farmers and storekeepers

      often met the same fate as tried-

      and-true insurgents. But, who knew

      who was who? Especially with

      the growing Awakening movement—

      former insurgents bought off by the U.S.,

      in the hopes that three hundred

      dollars a month would temper their

      extremist ways. The Awakening forces

      were paid to patrol neighborhoods,

      help with the rebuilding, and maybe

      do a little spying. It didn’t make them

      love the Americans any more, but

      they didn’t care much for al Qaeda,

      either. In theory, the idea worked well.

      In reality, it was working to a point.

      Except, what if it wasn’t? Iraq is a land

      of tribes, and as more and more sheiks

      signed on to the program, infighting

      was unavoidable. Not only that, but

      with millions in aid pouring in, every

      tribal leader wanted a piece of the pie.

      And, as Cole wrote, WHO KNOWS IF ALL

      THESE DUDES ARE REALLY SHEIKS OR NOT?

      SEEMS LIKE HALF OF WHAT WE DO IS TRYING

      TO FIGURE THAT OUT, OR KEEPING SUNNI

      HAJJIS FROM MURDERING SHIITE HAJJIS OVER

      WHO GETS WHAT. GODDAMN. WHY DON’T

      WE JUST LET THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS KILL

      EACH OTHER AND BE DONE WITH THIS MESS?

      It was a mess, but less a mess than

      before the surge that made it a mess.

      At least, that’s how the brass saw it.

      AN UGLIER MESS WAS BREWING

      In the years since the 2004 siege,

      Fallujah doctors had seen a huge

      swell of infant mortality and serious

      birth defects, including a two-headed

      baby and too many born paralyzed.

      Breast and brain cancers increased

      fourfold, childhood cancers

      twelvefold, and leukemia cases

      skyrocketed to thirty-eight times

      usual levels. Not only the sheer

      numbers, but also the speed of this

      rise was reminiscent of another

    &nbs
    p; wartime nightmare—Hiroshima.

      Scientists went looking for reasons.

      What they found—evidence of white

      phosphorous, napalm, and uranium

      in civilian neighborhoods—would

      cause enough of a stir that denial

      was useless. The blame rose higher

      than the offices of military brass.

      It went all the way to the boardroom

      of the Commander in Chief and his

      advisors. By that time, the grumbling

      had long since begun that the war

      in Iraq was a sham, a fabrication.

      Six months before the initial invasion,

      Congressman Dennis Kucinich took

      an unpopular stand, saying there was

      no credible evidence Iraq had weapons

      of mass destruction, nor provided aid

      to al Qaeda, either before 9/11 or since.

      And, “Unilateral action against Iraq will cost

      the United States the support of the world

      community.” Eventually, even our staunch

      ally, England, would lose respect.

      I was still in high school then and, though

      I heard plenty of antiwar sentiment

      coming out of my parents’ mouths,

      I had more important things on my mind.

      Cheerleading. Honor choir. My latest crush.

      Those are what I worried about.

      Not invented excuses for a war on

      the other side of the world. I would

      never have predicted it would mean

      one damn thing to me in the future.

      But as that long, gray autumn

      of 2007 wore on, I couldn’t help

      but wonder if what we were accomplishing—

      or not—was worth sending our warriors,

      especially one of them, into harm’s way.

      I COULD BARELY WATCH THE NEWS

      The casualty count kept rising.

      When they added up the number

      of dead U.S. soldiers in December,

      2007 would go down as the deadliest

      year yet in Iraq. Sometimes I didn’t

      hear from Cole for days at a time.

      Though I did my best not to think

      about what that might mean,

      I would flash on possibilities,

      none of them good. I was back in

      school, and at the time still thought

      I’d be an educator, so I was student

      teaching part-time. Nothing like

      helping first graders learn to spell

      and add to lift the focus off oneself,

      at least for a little while. Though

      I didn’t mention it to Cole (a rabid

     

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