Author: NancyT
Disclaimer: JAG and characters do not belong to me.
Classification: PG
Category: Harm/ Drama/Angst
Summary: Harm placed in a situation while completing an assignment in
Iraqi, where a young Marine shares some very poignant moments of his
childhood.
Tikrit, Iraqi
"Sir, your transportation is ready to take you back to the airfield. Word is that the airfield is going to shut down by 1100 due to an approaching sandstorm. So we'd better git, Sir," the young Marine assigned to Harm reported.
Without looking up from the clipboard he was scribbling on Harm muttered, "I thought sandstorms were expected and treated like a heavy dew on a Dixie morn by you southern boys." He finished signing off the last of the documents with a dramatic flourish and looked up with a smile.
The young private grinned, "Usually we do, Sir." His southern accent drawn out, "But them flyboys don't like to git grit in their eyes, says is disorienting. Besides it's hell on them engines, but I guess you know that, Sir."
"I guess we better 'git' going then Marine," Harm stood and stretched taking one last look at what had been his temporary office. He had enjoyed the simple southern mannerisms of his assigned escort for the past week.
Private Jesse 'Mississippi' Buckley picked up Harm's seabag and headed towards the jeep tossing it carefully into the rear as the two men climbed into the dusty vehicle.
"Do you have those letters for me, Private?" Harm asked.
"Yes Sir," Buckley reached inside his front pocket, pulled out three
letters, and passed them to Harm. "I sure do appreciate your handling
these for me, they would take nearbouts forever if I mailed them from
here.
I promised Pops, Chad and Everoot that I would let them know how I
was gitten along. Didn't want them to git all in a tissie cause I
hadn't written, but you know how it's been. This way they will get
their letters quicker.
Granny Tate always said no news is good news, but them boys is just
like a bunch of ole mother hens. They would worry the feathers off a
frog if I didn't mail them a letter."
"Feathers off a frog?"
"Just a saying, me and Chad used to say that there is slicker than owl's shit. Granny Tate would have tanned our hides if she would have ever caught us cussing so we had to make up our own sayings, so we'd say smoother than a porcupine's butt," the lanky young man grinned mischievously.
"I can relate. I have a grandmother who can still put the fear of god into me," Harm chuckled.
"Yep, when I got caught doing mischief, which I'm aggrieved to admit was pretty often for a while there. She would tell me to go pick a switch off one of them bushes in our yard and bring it to her. If the switch was too scrawny lookin, I would have to go back till I got one with some substance and then she would commence to wear out my hide or the switch which ever came first." Buckley sighed with a crooked grin and continued to drive down the war torn streets.
"You don't sound like you felt very abused," Harm commented.
"Abused? Hell fire! That woman loved me more than the air she breathed." He paused before he continued, "She only had one child, my momma, Millie. I've only seen pictures of her cuz she died when I was born, that's how come I came to live with Granny Tate. I never knew my daddy. Granny told me when I was older that my momma was only fifteen when I was conceived, and that her boyfriend wouldn't marry her. My momma ran away after that happened but came back right before I was born. She was scared to try to have me by herself. I guess she had a premonition or something."
"I'm sorry."
"Jess, bad things happen to everybody, that's what Granny always said. You just can't waller in your bad luck." The long lazy smile returned as the jeep bumped and sputtered over the uneven roads.
"Sounds like your granny had a lot of wisdom," Harm replied as they stopped at a roadblock waiting for the vehicles ahead of them to be checked.
"Granny was a deeply religious woman. She lived her faith. When my momma came up pregnant and unmarried, everyone in town started gossiping. Granny played the piano for Sweetwater Baptist Church all her life, and some of the ladies of the church went to the pastor and demanded that she be asked to step down since she had a daughter living in sin and all. But you know what Granny did?" Buckley looked over to Harm with a serious glare.
"She just kept right on playing with her head held up high and kept my mom right next to her on the piano bench. Some people's sins are where you can see them so you have to deal with them while others are hidden and festering, she said. I guess that's why I always liked music. When time came for me to be born, I was too big, and my momma was too small. The doctor in town came to the house, but my momma died anyway. People said it was the price of her sin. Granny said it was sin alright. The doctor had been drinking and didn't know what he was doing. My momma was a sweet brave girl, and she is in heaven cause Jesus took care of her sin. At night when we would say our prayers together, she would always ask God to give Millie a good hug for her and tell her that I was a good boy," Jess prattled on smiling reminiscently.
Harm felt his throat constrict as memories of his grandmother's prayers echoed, "and tell Harm Sr., wherever he is that little Harm is being real good..." Maybe that was the connection he felt with the young Marine. They both had been raised by brave women.
The dusty jeep lurched forward as Buckley maneuvered the vehicle closer to the checkpoint.
"So you joined the Marines to get away from Sweetwater?" Harm quizzed.
"Oh no, I guess I did give you the idea that most of the folks there are petty and mean spirited. I suppose some folks everywhere can be that way. But, there are some mighty fine folks in Sweetwater. I've told you about Chad, Everoot and Pops. Me, Chad and Everoot was inseparable for I up and joined the Marines. They are like my brothers. Pops is Pops. Never had any younguns of his own so he just about adopted every strait in the county including me. Sweetwater is my home and sometimes I miss it so much, I can almost taste it," Jess Buckley's eyes glazed for a moment.
"Before my unit shipped over here, a bunch of us went to the capital of our country for the fourth of July shindigs. Private Harvey's from Boston, he says 'Mississippi, you ain't seen nothing like the fireworks over the Potomac on the fourth'. They had this famous orchestra playing all this big loud music, and the sky was full of fancy fireworks." Buckley spread his hands over his head for effect and smiled at Harm before continuing.
"But, all I could think of Sir was how this didn't even come close to the view on the hill down the road from my home near Sweetwater. Just before dark, I would lay in the grass listening to the rhythm of the crickets and locus. It was if they had written their own symphony with an occasional whip-o-will, dove or other little feathered critter chiming in on cue. The closer to sunset, the louder they would chirp while the western sky slowly churned up a display of all sorts of blazing shades of grays, pinks and oranges."
Buckley paused and closed his eyes drinking in the image as he spoke, "And as the sun settled down for the night, the humidity would be so thick you could almost drink the air. Every place on your skin could feel the heat and as the evening gave way to the starry night, the air would began to cool and dry out sending shivers all over me. Lying in that fresh grass, I would close my eyes and smell the damp dirt and all the green things, but especially the sweet honeysuckle. Oh how I loved the scent of the honeysuckle. About that time I would hear Granny start calling out, 'Jess boy, it's time to come on home.'" He sighed.
"You a little homesick Marine?" Harm spoke gently interrupting the private's reminiscence.
"Maybe a little, I guess I've about talked your ear off Sir. Please forgive me, this dessert dry heat is just about to git to me," Jess grinned with a little embarrassment.
"You've painted an interesting picture of where you grew up. I would like to see it someday," Harm replied hoping to ease the boy's embarrassment.
"Would you, Sir? It's easy enough to find. Just take the first exit off state highway 98 and follow the signs. Stop at Pop's for a cold one. It's a dry county so a cold one would be a Barq's Root Beer." Buckley grinned as he put the jeep in gear and pulled the jeep up to the checkpoint not noticing the local man running up towards them.
"STOP!" One of the Marine guards near the checkpoint shouted and raised his rifle to the man who continued to run towards the vehicles.
Harm turned to see the man and grabbed Buckley's arm to pull him from the vehicle, but a loud explosion sent them tumbling. Almost immediately Harm was aware of several Marines yelling around them and the sound of gunfire. His shoulder felt numb, but was able to pull himself up enough to see their jeep overturned. Buckley was next to him gasping in pain.
"Private Buckley, Jess?" Harm slid himself closer to the young marine and wiped away a layer of dirt and blood from his face.
"Hurts," Private Jess Buckley managed to mumble.
"I know, just keep still. Help is here," Harm frowned at the younger man's labored breathing.
"Sir?" Jess's ragged voice whispered.
"I'm here Jess," Harm leaned in closer.
"Take me home," eyes filled with pain begged. "...second road on the right past Pop's can't miss it...next to the church," he whispered as his eyes began to glaze..
"We're going to get you home Private, now stay with us," Harm pleaded.
"Lightening bugs," he whispered breathlessly as trickles of sweat formed on his face.
"Shhh, help is coming Jess," Harm looked around anxiously as the Marines were trying to secure the area.
"Granny said if you put lightening bugs in a jar you take away their light," Jess smiled through glazed eyes coughing spasmodically and groaned.
"Granny's a wise woman," Harm replied gently moving away so a corpsmen that arrived could begin to assess Jess.
Jess looked at Harm and smiled, "Sir, do you smell the honeysuckle? Don't it smell nice, Sir?" His mouth went slack and his eyes became vacant.
One of the corpsmen looked at Harm and shook his head. Harm felt the warm trickles down his face as one of the corpsmen pulled him away. "Sir, let me look at your shoulder..."
*************
Sweetwater, Mississippi
Two Weeks Later
Harm and Mac pulled into the country store/gas station with the old Coke paint pealed sign indicating they had found Pop's. Harm's arm still cradled in a sling after having a piece of shrapnel removed had let Mac drive the rental car. Seated around a table in the corner sat three men playing cards. One older man Harm assumed was Pop and two younger. Since they were on leave, Harm and Mac were dressed in civilian attire.
"How can I help ya?" the older man offered.
Harm smiled and looked around, "My name is Harmon Rabb and this is Sarah MacKenzie. I promised a friend that I would stop through and visit Sweetwater. He told me this was the place to get directions and a cold one."
Pop grinned and got up opening and old Coke drink box and fished out two Barq's root beer bottles and opened them. "That'll be a buck fifty and who might your friend be?"
"Jess Buckley."
Pop's eyes widened and the two young men at the table stood up. "How'd you know Jess? Was you in the Marines with him?"
"Actually I'm in the Navy, you are Pop?" Harm asked.
"Yep and this here is Chad and Everoot." Pop extended a hand and pointed at the two other men. "Have a seat."
Mac exchanged a knowing look with Harm as he reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out three letters that were somewhat tattered and had smears of blood. "I was asked by Private Buckley to mail these for him, but things didn't work out, so I decided to deliver them myself."
Each man took the letters as if Harm had given them a winning lottery ticket.
"You was with him weren't you?" Chad, the heavier of the two younger men asked.
"He was taking me to the airstrip when a suicide bomber approached our checkpoint," Harm explained tentively.
"Did he suffer?" Pop asked softly.
"It happened quickly, his last thoughts were of home." Harm stayed and answered any questions that he could and noticed that it would soon be dark. "I need to leave, I promised I would stop by, if you have any further questions you can reach me here." He handed them a card before leaving.
The reentered the car and Harm gave Mac the directions as he remembered, "Second road on the right past Pop's next to the church." They turned down the gravel road and found the church, but no house was near the church.
Harm parked the car so he and Mac could walk around and found the small graveyard. A freshly covered grave marked Private Jesse Tate 'Mississippi' Buckley's grave next to his mother's grave Millie Ann Buckley and his Grandmother's Anna Tate Buckley. Mac remained in the background as Harm stood looking at the three head stones. The small cemetery overlooked the small valley of Sweetwater. "He knew," Harm thought of the last interchange with Private Buckley.
Harm looked up as he noticed the sounds of the woodsy song the gentle young soldier had described. Harm turned and gestured for Mac to join him. She tucked her arm around his waist while he placed his uninjured one around her shoulder. They settled into a clean grassy area at the top of the hill allowing their senses to take in all that they could while the young man's voice replayed in his mind,
"Just before dark, I would lay in the grass listening to the rhythm of the crickets and locus. It was if they had written their own symphony with an occasional whip-o-will, dove or other little feathered critter chiming in on cue. The closer to sunset, the louder they would chirp while the western sky slowly churned up a display of all sorts of blazing shades of grays, pinks and oranges."
"And as the sun settled down for the night, the humidity would be so thick you could almost drink the air. Every place on your skin could feel the heat and as the evening gave way to the starry night, the air would began to cool and dry out sending shivers all over me. Lying in that fresh grass, I would close my eyes and smell the damp dirt and all the green things, but especially the sweet honeysuckle. Oh how I loved the scent of the honeysuckle. About that time I would hear Granny start calling out, 'Jess boy, it's time to come on home.'"
Harm closed his eyes and he could almost see Jess grinning as he walked through the high grass down the hill towards the lights of Sweetwater…"Never put a lightning bug in a jar or you'll take away all it's light."
The end
