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Rocco
Rocco walked out of the mess hall and up the hill to the barracks. He had a 48-hour pass, and he planned on using it to sleep. The rest of the guys thought that he was crazy to waste his leave just to stay on base and sleep, but it felt like ages since he was able to get a good night’s sleep. Most of the guys would take that pass and get as far away from base as humanly possible, but flying from Japan to America would eat up a lot of his time, and he would probably come back even more tired than when he left. A couple of the guys said that he should head into town and find a warm, willing woman, but that just wasn’t his style. He had a girl waiting for him back in the states, and there was no way that he’d cheat on her. In fact, he planned on asking her to marry him once he got home from his current tour.
He walked into the back of the barracks and found his friend, Gunner, standing by his bunk. “I’ve been waiting for you to get back here. Where the hell were you, man?” Rocco wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his business where he was, but he also knew that might not be a good idea since Gunner outranked him.
“Mess hall,” Rocco said. “Did you need me for something, sir?” He sounded like a jerk, but he couldn’t help it. He was exhausted and just wanted to climb into his bunk.
“What the fuck, Rocco? What’s up with the whole sir routine?” Gunner asked.
“Sorry, I’m being an ass,” he said. “I’m tired, and all I want to do is crawl into my bunk and sleep for two days.”
“I guess that means you don’t want to go out with a few of the guys and me, then?” Gunner asked. There was no way that he’d last an hour out on the town with the guys. They all liked to party, and that was the last thing that Rocco wanted to do right now.
“Yeah, I’m going to pass, but thanks for the invitation, Gunner.” His friend looked like he wanted to protest, but unless he was going to give Rocco a direct order, he was going to stick with his original plans.
“All right,” Gunner said, “enjoy your downtime. The rest of the guys and I ship out for the rest of the week tomorrow. Since you have 48 hours, you get to stay put.”
“You sure that you don’t need me?” Rocco asked.
“Yep, it’s the way things work. Plus, you look like hell. Rest up, and you’ll be on the next mission. We’ll see you in a few days,” Gunner promised, slapping Rocco on the shoulder.
“Take care,” Rocco said, “see you soon.” They never told each other to be careful, fearing that those simple words would somehow jinx the guys. And they definitely never said goodbye—it was too final.
“See you soon, man,” Gunner said. He walked to the door and turned to smile back at Rocco and nodded before he left. If Rocco had known that was going to be the last time that he’d see his friends—his brothers, he would have never stayed behind.
At about two in the morning, his platoon sergeant woke him to tell him that everyone in his platoon was gone—even Gunner.They had been ambushed while in town, and didn’t see the enemy before it was too late. Two of the guys had lived through the attack. Remmy died on the way to the hospital, and Simpson was able to report what had happened, but died in surgery.
Survivor’s guilt was a real thing. Rocco learned that the hard way. He asked to go home, and his platoon sergeant granted his wish, even offering him an early out. He took the honorable discharge and went back to America—back home to Maryland, where his family lived. He was broken but tried not to show anyone that side of himself, masking his sadness with booze and pills.
Rocco moved back in with his parents and younger sister, promising them that he’d find his own place and move out as soon as possible, but that wasn’t the truth. He ended up living with them for over a year until his father put his foot down and told him that it wasn’t normal for a twenty-eight-year-old man, who had seen combat, to be living with his parents. He knew that his father was giving him a nudge because he loved him, but a part of him felt as though his parents were abandoning him as his platoon brothers had. That was just his mind telling him lies. He had gone to the mandatory therapy appointments enough to know that much. Of course, Rocco did as his father asked and moved out into his own tiny apartment. He hated that place, and after the many lonely nights that he spent there, he became angrier than he’d ever been.
Rocco told his therapist that his anger was out of control, and she was the one who gave him the idea of joining a gym to work out his aggression. He stopped having nightmares every night, and for the first time, in a long time, he was beginning to feel like himself again—and that had everything to do with Luna Haskins. He was discharged from mandatory therapy over six months ago, but he chose to keep going to see Luna. He knew that if he didn’t, he’d fall down the deep hole that so many otherveterans had. Rocco didn’t want that for himself, so he stopped drinking and taking painkillers to numb the ache and got his life back on track.
As soon as he walked into the gym that Luna suggested he join, he knew exactly how he wanted to relieve his stress and anger—boxing. Hell, he was good with any type of fighting, as long as he got to beat the shit out of someone—anyone. Rocco didn’t care who it was, as long as he got to pummel him. He just never expected “Him” to be a “Her.”
As soon as he walked into the ring to find that he was sparring with his therapist, he knew that he couldn’t let it happen. “Luna,” he breathed. He had in his mouth guard, and he wasn’t ready for her to laugh at him. She was acting as though the two of them in the boxing ring wasn’t a big deal—but it was. He had never hit a woman in his life, let alone his psychiatrist. He spat his mouth guard into his gloved hand and wiped the spit from his lips.
“Rocco,” she said in return.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I disclosed that this is my gym, right?” Luna asked.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what I mean,” Rocco insisted.
“Okay, what did you mean then?” she asked.
“I can’t fight you,” he said. “Why are you in the ring with me?”
“I’m confused, Rocco,” she breathed, “why can’t you fight me?” He knew that he should keep his mouth shut. Luna wasn’t going to like his answer, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“Because,” he said, defiantly raising his chin to her, “you’re a girl.”
“So, you noticed then?” Luna teased. During their sessions, she wasn’t at all like the playfully sarcastic woman standing in front of him. Luna was all business then, but now, she was likea bubbly teenager ready to have some fun. Although he had a feeling that hitting her wasn’t going to be at all fun for him.
“I won’t fight you,” he insisted.
