by A. Non

Created on: September 14, 2010

“Who is this?”

“Who is who?”

“Walking down the street. What is she carrying?” The junior officer of the watch turned to the senior officer.

The senior officer of the watch dropped his paper low enough to look through the “V” of his crossed feet, propped on the corner of the metal desk. A woman in a dress walked barefoot towards the watch post. Her arms curled about her cargo, held low in her arms.  The senior officer had seen many things before. And he had seen this sight before as well. His paper arched back into position.

“She is looking for a soldier.”

“Do you know who?” asked the junior officer.

“No. And I am guessing she does not either. When she gets closer, tell her the men have shipped out and send her home.”

The junior officer walked out from the post and across the sun bleached gravel that circled the military facility like a moat. He returned in a few minutes.

“Sir, she is pregnant!” he reported.

“I know,” said the senior officer, “that is why you sent her home.”

The junior officer stood unmoved in the doorframe. His face moved through a series of expressions and calculations.  

Moments later, the senior officer creased his paper again to observe the junior officer’s face cycling through its calculations, lost in an internal loop of confusion.

“What?” groaned the senior officer.

The junior officer lowered his head and stepped aside to reveal the thin reed of a girl in a fine print dress. She was barefoot and a mixture of sweat and dirt streaked her legs. The mud had begun to creep up her dress, completely soiling the hem of her dress and sending stalagmites of grime up the fine pattern. Her slight frame bowed heavily to the side, as she shifted the weight of her child. She looked like a reed by the river, pulled down in the middle by a bulbous bee that landed on her.

The officer sighed.

“Come along,” he said to the girl. The junior officer was a child. This girl needed the firm hand of honesty and cab fare. He walked her out the door and down the gravel path.

He turned to see the empty doorframe and the junior officer craning his body around the post building. The girl had ignored the senior officer and continued walking into the port base.

The senior officer swore. He picked up his pace and rounded the post building. His progress only briefly impeded by the sharp rap delivered to the junior

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