A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2015 by the Author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 33
Meeting Jason, Jr. 

I left Toby’s and headed back to the orphanage. Even with the letters in my pocket I was tingly inside with the prospect of getting together with Toby. The warm sun felt good and with a little imagination, I could feel myself back in Saigon instead of fuckin’ Ho Chi Minh City.  It pissed me off that the United States had capitulated and called it an honorable withdrawal but maybe the South had it coming.  It was all one country, with two political factions, but one of those factions didn’t believe strongly enough in the cause to fight to the end.  Hell, Ho Chi Minh never gave up; he lived in the hills with his men and stuck it out to the bitter end. The South was too interested in grabbing power and making a quick buck on the situation, namely the US presence there. They expected the United States to fight their war for them. They didn’t give a fuck about their country.   

Suddenly I saw a tall, muscular teenage boy coming toward me. He was strikingly handsome with his flawless skin and high cheekbones, wearing sandals and the traditional brown pajama pants, with no shirt. A glance downward, it was obvious that he wasn’t wearing shorts. I was surprised at the meat swinging loosely in his pants. I stopped in my tracks and watched the cocky sway to his broad shoulders and his tight stomach muscles rippling when he walked, the already well-developed chest muscles and his muscular arms and shoulders. He was unmistakably Jason’s son. He would be about seventeen now. Given a few more pounds and the hardened lines of combat, I could have imagined that it was Jason walking toward me. The ache inside me pulled me in that direction, so hard that I wanted to run and greet my old friend. But I forced myself to face reality; that this was not Jason. I waited till he was within a dozen yards then I started to walk toward him. When we were close enough that he almost swerved to pass me I said his name.

“Jason? Jase?” I said.

He stopped, reared back with surprise, and a frown.

“Do I know you?” he asked, sounding a little surly. I was impressed with his perfect English, with a slight but beautiful Vietnamese accent.

“I’m Brad Courter….your dad’s buddy.”

I’ve never seen such an expression of shocked surprise and intense happiness.

“Mr. Courter! I did not know you would be here!” he exclaimed and took a hesitant step toward me.  I thought at first that he was going to hug me but he held back. I didn’t know for what reason, but I held back as well. Maybe it wasn’t good that two males showed such emotion in public. I knew American GIs did it all the time, but he was part Vietnamese and this was not old Saigon.

“The Sister said no one notified her,” I said. He was close enough that I could feel his body heat, even in the heat of the sun. I wanted so bad to pull him into my arms in a tight bear hug that I had so often shared with his father. 

He was so excited that his mouth moved but he couldn’t talk.  I laughed and put my hand on his shoulder.  “Do you have everything?” I asked, nodding to the basket he was carrying, filled with vegetables and other things I couldn’t identify.

“Yes. I was heading back,” he said.

“I think Sister Marie is waiting, I’ll walk with you,” I said. We both turned and walked in the direction of the orphanage. I wondered what had taken him so long. “You speak such good English,” I said.

“Yes, we learned English at the school when I went,” he said.

“You don’t go to school now?” I asked with a frown.

He looked down and away from me. “No, I….I had to start a life for myself.”

“You knew I was coming for you,” I said.

“But till you did….and I wasn’t sure, about our two governments.”  He shrugged it off and I dropped it for the moment. But he added, “I was not made so welcome at the school anyway.”

I was surprised that I didn’t feel pure elation to be walking beside the handsome boy.  I was happy, but it wasn’t elation. I think I was already feeling the weight of responsibility, and maybe regret that it wasn’t Jason. Back at the orphanage, Sister Marie scolded him for taking so long; it would mean that supper would be delayed.  He half cowered before her, but I wasn’t sure if it was put on for her benefit. He offered to help her and the nuns with supper.

“See, she puts you to work for being late,” I chided him.

“I always help out in the kitchen,” he said.

The younger nun beside him smacked him on the shoulder. “We can’t ever find you when it’s time to make supper,” she said.

Jase broke out laughing as he cowered away from her.

“You’re only offering to help now to impress Mr. Courter,” the nun accused him.

“Maybe I need to impress Mr. Courter,” he said.

“Yes, you don’t have a passport yet,” I warned.

The meal was an experience in itself, with two dozen boys eating and chattering among themselves, in English and Vietnamese.  Suddenly Jase pounded the table.

“Speak English!” He pointed at certain of the boys. “You…. you….you.…you….you are Americans by birth! You know English, speak it!” 

The younger boys cowered under his tirade and it was quiet for a few minutes before they started talking again, this time in English.

“Are you staying here with us?” he asked me as the boys began to chatter again.

“No, it’s a bit crowded. I have a room,” I said.

“You could share my room,” Jase said. “It’s small, I only have a cot, but you can have it, I’ll sleep on the floor.” I was taken aback, not by his offer, but by the impossible prospect of sharing a small room with the boy. Of course, I couldn’t.  I was almost ashamed of the thoughts rushing through my head; more ashamed that I was having such thoughts in the presence of the nuns.

“Thanks, but I have a place; and there are some people I would like to see while I’m here,” I said.  “I’ll be back in the morning. But I have to go to the embassy first.”

He gave me an odd look and I suddenly realized that it was a look of doubt. He didn’t trust me to come back for him!  At that moment I began to realize what a long uphill trek I had ahead of me in trying to raise the boy, and to get him to trust me.  I got his attention with my hand and directed his eyes to mine.  “I will be back for you,” I declared.

After we’d eaten, I left the orphanage and headed for the Trent. I knew deep inside that I was playing games with my head but with enough imagination it could be just like old times, or as Toby had said, a cheap imitation.  It was nightfall and the night was coming to life. I wondered if Toby still operated his place as a clandestine gay bar now that the Americans were gone.

On the way….out of my way, actually….I went past my old barracks. It was still there, even the guardhouse, but it was occupied now by Vietnamese troops.  I nodded to the handsome young soldier on duty in the guardhouse. He nodded back, but with his best soldierly scowl. I walked on past the guardhouse, smiling when I saw the tree where I had tossed the condom that Jason had used on Ling. I hoped the young guard didn’t see me and think I was laughing at him.  I walked over and sat on the edge of the brick wall that surrounded the barracks compound and watched the bustle of people and traffic, and now and then glanced at the tree, trying to pick out the limb where the condom had hung. I wondered who had found it, and what they must have thought of one so large.  A sudden pall came over me, like a shroud of doom wrapping around me.  I didn't know why.  I looked over my shoulder at the barracks, bewildered. I had a gnawing feeling something terrible had happened there but I couldn't grasp any memory of it. After a few minutes, the young guard approached me and nodded that I should move on. 

To be continued...  

Posted: 02/27/15 rp