Author:
rivlee Title: Places That I Haven’t Been
Rating: PG
Characters: Sledge and all of the St. Boniface crew.
Summary: It’s February 2008 and Eugene Sledge’s first visit to The Old Thibodaux Boarding House. Part of the Modern!AU.
Disclaimer: This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the HBO mini-series. No disrespect is meant. Title and cut-text from Something Corporate’s Down.
A/N: Unbeated. For
skylilies who wanted some Sledge in Modern!AU fic.
February 2008
Eugene Sledge didn’t quite know why it took him so long to get to St. Boniface. Sid said it was because he was oblivious to subtlety, but he just felt it had more to do with manners. It was improper to show up at someone’s home without an invitation. Out of all the people he was expecting to invite him down, Babe Heffron, the Philadelphian transplant, was at the bottom of Eugene’s list. Still, it would’ve been rude to refuse and it’s not like he had anything better going on in Mobile. Just another endless run of days spent contemplating on what to do next.
He could’ve flown or taken a train, but he decided to drive. He packed up Kipling, his new beagle, and prepared to make the long haul. He had 260 miles to go, about 5 hours adding in all the stops. It was still dark outside when he put the last of his bags in the trunk.
“Eugene,” his mother called from the doorway.
“Mother,” he said.
“Do you have the GPS?”
“I do,” he assured her.
“And a map?”
“Father put them in the glove box.”
She nodded, the porch light catching in the sliver strands streaking her dark hair. “Did you pack a breakfast?” she asked.
He nodded. “I got some bacon sandwiches for me and Kip.”
“Did you get some coffee? Let me go get the thermos.”
He stopped her before she took over the kitchen. “Father made me a batch before he headed off to the city.”
She nodded before tugging on his jacket. “Do you have gift packed for your hosts? You never show up empty-handed.”
Eugene laughed. “I doubt they’d care, but I have a set of wine glasses and a plant.”
“That’s nice,” she said. She patted his chest. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
“I didn’t go through a war to die in a ditch on the side of the road.”
She sucked in a breath. “Don’t you say that, Eugene.”
“I’m sorry, Momma,” he said. He pulled her into a hug, took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of her rose perfume. Dawn hadn’t broken yet and she was already made up for the day, even standing on her porch in a house coat and slippers. For all their differences, he truly loved her and all her ways.
“I’ll be fine.”
She nodded, her hair tickling his neck. She hugged him tight, patted him on the back, and let him go.
“You best get on your way,” she whispered.
Eugene nodded and dawdled for a second more. This would be his first trip away since he came back home. He couldn’t decide just what was causing all anxiety running through his system; seeing Snafu, leaving home, or the combination of both. Logic would say both, but at this hour he couldn’t tell.
Kip yelped, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He got into the car and waited for Kip to settle herself on the passenger seat. He drove away, checking in the rear view mirror one last time as mother waved them both off.
********
Modern rock came through the speakers as the sun rose in the sky and they drove through Mississippi. Kip barked at all the passing tractor trailers and they both enjoyed a break with a snack of beef jerky and some water. They took a long stop at the Slidell, Louisiana rest area halfway through the journey. They were both in desperate need of a long stretch. He hooked Kip up to her leash and took her on a quick jog around the flat spaces and cottage décor of the rest stop. Kip nosed at his feet while he checked his text messages. It was still too early to call, he doubted Snafu would appreciate a 7:30 AM wake-up. They couldn’t stay outside much longer, there was still a bite in the air, but Eugene found he could appreciate a cool morning breeze after Iraq.
He stood up, took one last stretch and walked Kip around for her last lap. They settled back in the car and went straight to Baton Rouge, avoiding New Orleans. He didn’t think he could take seeing the city scarred, saw enough of it on the television for the other gulf cities. They did pretty well, he felt, getting to St. Martinsville’s area, but trying to actually find St. Boniface was proving to be a headache. He finally pulled over at a Piggly Wiggly. Either St. Boniface had a hidden turn or it was doubling as Brigadoon.
Of course the minute he got out of the car he saw his old Gunny, Hillbilly Jones.
“Hillbilly?” he called across the parking lot. Not that he needed to; he’d recognize those gangly arms and curly head anywhere.
“Sledgehammer, how the hell are you?” Hillbilly said. He hurried over to him and slapped his back. “Heffron said something about you coming down. I didn’t know if I’d be back in time.”
“You know Babe?”
“Yeah,” Hillbilly said, “I bunk down with all those poor boys when I pass through. It’s a hell of a house.”
“I can imagine,” Sledge said. He remembered more than a few of the kitchen emergencies from Snafu and Burgin’s apartment.
“It’s not that bad,” Hillbilly said, reading his mind, “Heffron and his friend, Spina, they both actually know how to use kitchen appliances.”
“It’s a good thing I ran into you. I’ve been circling around for the past twenty minutes trying to find the turn to St. Boniface.”
“Pretty damn hidden, isn’t it,” Hillbilly said. He gestured at the store. “Let me just run in and grab some food for lunch. Promised Andy I’d bring him a salad.”
“All of you really are down here,” he said, shaking his head.
“Southern Hospitality,” Hillbilly said.
“I’m sure that’s all it is,” Sledge said. Kip started barking and her nails clicked against the window.
“What you got there, Sledgehammer?”
“My companion,” he said, opening the door and letting Kip out.
Kip, like most everyone, fell in love with Hillbilly instantly.
“She’s a sweetheart” he said.
“She’s easy,” Sledge said.
Hillbilly smiled. “I’ll leave you two to get some fresh air while I run in real quick. Then we’ll get you to the house.”
“I appreciate it, Gunny.”
Hillbilly reached up and ruffled Eugene’s hair. “It’s good to see you smiling again, Sledgehammer.”
********
The Old Thibodaux Boarding House looked like something out of an 1930s Hollywood movie set, with its wrought iron fixtures, wide porch and swing, hanging ivy and ancient willow and moss trees. It was just, calm, peaceful, and perfect.
“It’s all a façade,” Hillbilly said as he helped Eugene unpack his trunk. “It’s loud as hell in there once everyone gets home. Unless it’s Doc Roe’s day off, then it’s silent as a graveyard.”
“Doc Roe, that’s Gene-Baptiste, correct?” he asked.
“Most of us just call him Gene or Doc,” Hillbilly explained, “Spina is usually called by his last name. Babe, well, only Doc calls him by his given name. Everyone around here calls Snafu either Merriell or Shelton. It’s an adjustment.”
“Does he not liked to be called Snafu anymore?” He never thought to call Snafu anything else, the name just fit him so well.
“I don’t think it bothers him in the least, it’s just no one around here knows him that way.”
Sledge shouldered one of his bags. “Kind of hard to think of him in any other way.”
Hillbilly laughed. “It’s been a mindfuck, seeing him all domesticated and full of manners and respect.”
“Hard to imagine,” Sledge said.
“You ain’t shitting,” Hillbilly said.
Hillbilly was definitely changed here, gone was the weight of leadership. He seemed more relaxed in his skin, far removed from all he worried about once. He’d filled out, still a runner’s body, but more meat on his bones. Gone was the regulation haircut and facial hair. His mother would call Hillbilly a ruffian, but he’d never seen the man more comfortable.
The inside of the home showed the controlled clutter and chaos of various housemates. There was a small mountain of shoes and boots by the door.
“Is it okay to have Kip in here?” he asked.
“I have a feeling Kip is one of the more civilized beings to pass through this house. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Hillbilly led him up a stair case to the second floor. “You can either have the guest room next to mine or Snafu’s. I play music late into the night and Snaf doesn’t drag him ass home until about 3 AM.”
“I think I’d prefer the serenading,” Sledge said.
“Everyone does,” Hillbilly agreed.
The room was decorated in various styles and colors, but it all felt warm and welcoming. A large gilded mirror held old post cards and yellowed newspaper clippings in its frame; picture frames were tacked up all over the walls and the bed held what looked like three different blankets. He was a little taken aback by the small shrine in the corner, where a large crucifix hung on the wall and a table held a statue of the Virgin Mary and a votive candle.
“Babe’s friend Julian passed away two years ago. A month before he died he came down here with Babe to meet Gene and Snafu. This was the last room he stayed in,” Hillbilly explained.
“So, that’s a memorial?” Eugene asked.
“In a way. Julian’s mother gave Babe that statue. He comes in here when he just needs to mourn. It will be good to have someone else in this room.” He shook his head. “It is funny though.”
“What is?” he asked.
“This was the room Babe stayed in before he made the permanent move.”
“Some things are coincidences,” Eugene said.
Hillbilly laughed. “And others are inevitabilities. I’ve got to go feed Andy before he gets cranky, do you want a tour?”
“I don’t want to stay in someone else’s house when they’re not here,” he said. He patted at his hair. “Just let me clean up first?”
Hillbilly nodded. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Come on down when you’re ready.” He closed the door behind him as he left.
Eugene unclipped Kip’s leash and let her sniff around while he dug out his toiletry kit.
Out of everyone from K Company, Eugene had spent the most time post-war with Haldane and Burgin. Snafu could only be pinned down through phone calls and text messages; Leyden and Hillbilly were rarely in the same place for long and Oswalt was busy with medical school. Eugene was the only one who seemed to be drifting. He knew that wasn’t necessarily true, and that his family was in a better position to take care of a free loading son, but it was difficult not to feel wanting. Even Sid was getting somewhere with his life. Eugene had a Bachelor’s Degree and a bird watching interest.
Then again, he’d always been a late bloomer.
He changed into a fresh shirt and combed his hair down. He stepped in front of the mirror to gauge his appearance. Skin still too pale, eyes too haunted, but nothing much to be done. He’d tried, but as his father told him, Eugene was always incapable of hiding how he truly felt.
“It will have to do,” he said.
Kip barked in agreement.
********
They kept Kip in the car with the windows cracked at the school. There was a whole check-in process for security, but it was clear the school secretary knew Hillbilly well.
“Eddie, who’s your friend?”
“Mattie, meet Eugene Sledge, an old friend of mine and Andy’s.”
“He’s a baby,” Mattie said.
Eugene smiled. “Yes, ma’am, I suppose so when compared to Grandpa Jones here.”
“Snot-nosed little brat,” Hillbilly said, “I knew I should’ve left your behind, buried in the desert.”
“Burgie would’ve dug me out.”
“Loyal like that, our Burgin,” Hillbilly agreed. He turned back to Mattie. “We good to go in?”
Mattie nodded, handing back their driver licenses. She pulled two passes out of her desk. “Be sure to wear them so school security can see.”
“No desire for Bubba to track me down on his golf cart again,” Hillbilly said.
“Best afternoon entertainment we’ve had in ages,” Mattie told Eugene.
Hillbilly guided them out of the office into one of the long building wings. They stood outside the door and peeked into Andy’s class, where all the kids hung on his every word.
“How the hell does he manage to do that?” Eugene asked.
Hillbilly’s smile was full of pride. “Damned if I know.”
The bell rang and numerous students piled into the halls headed to the cafeteria. And just like in the Corps, Haldane had a whole group of stragglers and admirers around him.
“Somebody ordered a salad,” Hillbilly said, breaking up the gathering.
Haldane waved them in, but kept talking to his students. Eugene let their voices fade to a soothing background noise as he walked around the classroom. His nose wrinkled at the smell of dry erase markers; sometimes he missed the old chalkboards. He counted over forty desks in Haldane’s too small classroom. There were handmade flags of the world up on the wall, an old World War II propaganda poster in a frame hanging by Haldane’s desk, two bookshelves containing textbooks and supplies. And old floor globe, truly a relic with its USSR labeling, was shoved in the corner next to a desk holding a single computer. The water damage on the ceiling and the draft coming through the windows showed that the school system certainly didn’t have the money for massive repairs.
If Sledge knew anything about Haldane, he knew that the stack of clean notebooks and boxes of pens and pencils came out of Haldane’s own pocket.
“It’s not like my old office, but it’ll do,” Haldane said.
“It suits you, being the bright light in an area that’s rough around the edges,” Eugene said.
Haldane leaned back against the whiteboard and smiled. “It’s good to see you here, Eugene.”
Eugene smiled. “Never thought I’d end up visiting you in a classroom in rural Louisiana.”
“Funny how life works out that way,” Haldane said.
“As much as I’m all for reminiscing, you need to eat your lunch,” Hillbilly said, waving the brown paper bag in his hand.
“I had one bad blood sugar day and I never get to live it down,” Haldane said as he took his lunch and sat down at his desk.
“Need I remind you that you’re now closer to forty than twenty,” Hillbilly said.
“No,” Haldane replied, digging into this lunch.
Hillbilly settled himself on top of the shelving unit built under the windows. “Ack-Ack doesn’t like to admit when his body doesn’t respond like it ought. Doc Roe’s giving him a lecture every Sunday night at this point.”
“No need for you to keel over and die,” Eugene said.
“I don’t plan to,” Haldane said.
“He says that now,” Hillbilly said, “you should’ve seen him when he had to cut back his caffeine.”
“Denying a Marine his coffee? How the hell did you do that?” Eugene asked.
Hillbilly just smirked in response.
“Eugene, how long are you with us?” Haldane asked. He frowned down into his salad container, looking for more food that wasn’t there.
“Anywhere from three days to three weeks,” Eugene said, “I don’t have to be back in Mobile until mid-March.”
“We’d love to have you here for three weeks,” Haldane said, “maybe I can even get you to substitute for me.”
“I’m not a teacher,” Eugene said.
“Not yet,” Haldane said, “but you will be.”
“I don’t have a teaching certificate.”
“We’ll get you started on that,” Hillbilly said.
“Ah, so now I really see why I’m here,” Eugene said.
Haldane laughed. “We were never good at subterfuge. I do need someone the kids will respect and pay attention to and you have a knack for keeping even the most confrontational people quiet.”
“Does Snafu know he’s your measuring stick for contrary people?” Eugene asked.
“I think he has an idea by now,” Haldane said.
Eugene leaned against one of the desks while he watched Haldane and Hillbilly banter back and forth. He never thought to see them like this, so relaxed and unofficial, but it felt good to be in front of his Captain and Gunny again. The world started to feel a little more normal, even if was in a high school classroom.
********
There was a Ford Explorer and a Chevy Silverado in the driveway when they returned to the house.
“Babe and Roe must be home,” Hillbilly said.
“Snafu always said Roe kept crazy hours,” Eugene said.
Hillbilly shrugged. “Anna might be back in town. She’s one of the doctors at the clinic but does so much humanitarian work she’s rarely stateside. Doc needs to hire another doctor on full-time, but he’s yet to find someone suited to the job.”
“Free clinic in the middle of nowhere? That’s got to be a hard sell to everyone who grew up on ER and Grey’s Anatomy.”
“And so you see Doc Roe’s conundrum.”
An orange tabby cat was laid out on the center of the porch steps. It barely twitched as they stepped over it.
“That’s Oliver,” Hillbilly explained, “unless something involves food, he won’t move.”
“Nothing wrong with that, I suppose,” Eugene said. Kip had a different idea, but since he had a tight hold on her, she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Guests in the house,” Hillbilly announced as he opened the door.
“Why do you always suppose something indecent is going on,” a dark-haired man said. Roe, dressed in a pair of wrinkled scrubs, looked exhausted, though amused.
“Snafu’s told me stories,” Hillbilly said.
“Merl-Francis has a habit for telling tales,” Roe said. He held out his hand to Eugene. “Gene Roe, welcome to my home.”
Eugene shifted Kip to his side and took his hand. “Eugene Sledge. You have a lovely home, Mr. Roe.”
“Call me Gene, or Roe, if it’s less confusing,” Roe said. His handshake was firm, all business and quick, like a man constantly on the go. “I appreciate all you did to keep Merl-Francis’ ass from getting blown off.”
“It was mutual,” Eugene promised.
“Who this?” Roe asked, holding a hand out to Kip.
“Kip, well, Kipling. Babe, I believe, said it would be alright to bring her,” he said.
Roe smiled. “Been many years since we had a dog in a house of mine. Glad to have her.”
Kip tentatively licked Roe’s hand, her tail wagging while she took in his scent.
“She’s such a good dog,” Hillbilly observed.
“Only when she thinks there’s a treat in her future,” Eugene said.
Roe patted her on the head before walking over to the stairs. “Edward, get your ass down here,” he yelled.
“I’m coming,” a nasally voice responded. Eugene recognized it from all the phone calls he traded over the past weeks.
Eugene didn’t know what he expected Babe Heffron to look like, but he wasn’t expecting a near mirror image. Babe’s chin was smaller, nose a different shape, and his smile wide and easy. They certainly had a different taste in clothes, Babe wearing a pair of raggedy jeans and a M.A.S.H t-shirt.
“Sledge, right,” he said, “nice to finally meet you in person. I’ve only seen the pictures.”
“Pictures?” Sledge asked.
“You haven’t seen Flo’s scrapbook?” he asked. He shook his head. “Merriell is shit about passing on messages.”
“Merl-Francis does everything in his own time,” Roe said. He elbowed Babe in the ribs. “Shake hands with our guest.”
Babe automatically held his hand out. “Sorry, Sledge, little out of today. How the hell are ya?”
“I’m well,” Eugene said. Babe’s handshake was much more vigorous and animated. A man used to sitting down for a chat. He was a bartender, Eugene remembered, and seemed eerily suited for the role.
“This is Kip?” Babe asked, petting her and laughing as she growled. “Feisty, she’ll fit in well here.”
Eugene wondered if everyone felt like they were hit by a hurricane when they met Babe Heffron. He talked so fast and seemed incapable of standing still.
“You’ll have to forgive Edward, we’re still training him for a quieter life,” Roe explained.
Eugene didn’t quite make out Babe’s response but it sounded vaguely like kiss my ass.
They moved to the living room and kitchen area, an open floor area that was clearly the gathering place of the house.
“Would you like anything to eat or drink?” Roe asked.
“I’m fine,” Eugene said.
“If you get hungry, just help yourself. We’re all about community property here,” Babe said. He gestured at Kip. “Let her loose, Sledge, we’ve got nothing down here Oliver hasn’t already tried to ruin.”
“Are you sure?” Eugene asked.
“Nothing to worry about,” Roe said.
He put Kip down and she went straight for Hillbilly’s feet, laying down on top of them.
“Farm boys always win,” Babe said.
“You Philly boys just don’t have the country charm,” Hillbilly said.
“I think I’ll live,” Babe said.
Babe was sprawled out on the couch, his feet resting in Roe’s lap. Everything was so informal here, and Eugene started to let his guard down. It helped that Hillbilly was in the chair next to him, humming under his breath as he flipped through a magazine.
“Merl-Francis should be home soon,” Roe told him. He flipped though some channels on the TV, settling on some sports documentary. “Your drive wasn’t too long?”
“Not at all,” Eugene said, “it’s really not that far.”
“Especially if you avoid New Orleans,” Hillbilly said.
“I don’t call 250 miles a Sunday drive,” Babe said.
“Not for someone who barely left the borders of his hometown,” Hillbilly said.
“I’m sorry your parents didn’t love you enough to move to a big city,” Babe said.
“Yes, they’re always like this,” Roe told Eugene.
“At least life’s never boring,” Eugene said.
“Sledge, you sound like my kind of guy,” Babe said. He hopped up from the couch, gripping the back of Roe’s neck before going to the kitchen. “Anyone else want a beer?”
“It’s only three,” Roe said.
“Close enough,” Babe said, “but I’ll get you some water, Princess. Eddie, Sledge, you guys want anything?”
“Grab me a beer,” Hillbilly said, “and get a sandwich for Sledge. He’s too proper to ask for a snack before supper.”
“I’m really fine,” Sledge said.
“Bullshit,” Hillbilly said.
“It’s no problem,” Babe said, “none of us keep what you’d call normal hours. You’re better just grabbing some grub when you can.”
Eugene was impressed how easily Babe managed to balance four drinks and two plates of food.
“Edward,” Roe said.
“I know, I know, I’m getting the coasters,” Babe said as he passed out the refreshments. “You could move your lazy ass you know.”
Roe slapped Babe’s ass. “But that’s what I’ve got you for.”
Babe glared at him before heading back to the kitchen for the coasters and a stack of napkins.
“Five Star Service,” Hillbilly said.
“Complete with sexual harassment,” Eugene said as he picked at the crusts on his sandwich.
Hillbilly choked on his beer while Babe and Roe both laughed out loud.
“And suddenly it all makes sense,” Babe said.
“Beg pardon?” Eugene asked.
“Cajun Logic,” Babe said taking back his place on the couch.
********
Ralph Spina was the last member of the household to arrive home that night. He let them know Snafu was called out to a fire in Lafayette and that he’d be back late. Eugene would’ve been lying through his teeth if he said he hadn’t been disappointed. It’d been years since he’d seen Snafu in person; he missed his soft eyes and secret smiles when no one was looking. Luckily everyone in the house was so welcoming, it was like being in the Corps again, complete with filthy language and corny humor.
Eugene’s room was plenty warm as the night grew colder, but he was still having trouble sleeping. It’d been a long time since he’d spent the night anywhere but his own bed. It was just after 4 am when the flare of headlights passed through the windows of his room. He heard the slamming of a car door and the stomp of boots on the porch outside.
He pulled on a t-shirt and padded down the hallway, pausing on the stairs as he heard someone rummaging through the fridge. There was the familiar sounds of a beer bottle opening, the metal cap ringing as it hit the sink.
Eugene walked down the stairs and softly called out, “Snafu?”
Snafu turned around, looking for all the world like a deer in the headlights, before putting his beer bottle down.
“Eugene,” he said, “forgot you were coming down this way today.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “Sorry I was gone.”
Eugene shook his head. “You’re job has some unique demands.” He leaned against one of the counters, opposite Snafu. He was still too thin and tired looking, but Snafu had a healthier and happier shine in his eyes. “You look well,” he said.
“You look worn out and half-dead,” Snafu responded.
Eugene was surprised how loudly he burst out in laughter. He quickly covered his mouth. “Sorry,” he said.
“Everyone here has heard worse,” Snafu said. He pulled off his uniform jacket and sniffed. “Not that I don’t want to spend more time on our reunion, but I smell like shit.”
“I did notice your interesting stench,” Eugene admitted.
“Always too polite to say something,” Snafu said. He walked over to Eugene, crowded into his personal space just like old times. “Times were, I backed you into a corner and you’d cuss me out.”
“Guess a body’s got to get used to you again,” Eugene said. He did feel his nose wrinkle at the stench coming from Snafu’s uniform, a smell of burnt plastic and sweat, but he didn’t flinch. He knew better than to do that in front of Merriell Shelton.
Snafu nodded. “Good to see you’re still in there,” he said. He backed up. “I need to take a shower and sleep for ten hours, but I’ll see you on the other side.”
“Sleep well,” Eugene said.
Snafu laughed.
“Shelton, you in need of some late night therapy,” Babe’s voice rasped from the stairway.
“I’m good tonight,” Snafu replied.
“Then get your ass to bed,” Babe said.
Eugene felt his brow wrinkle in confusion, especially when Snafu just shrugged.
“Welcome to St. Boniface,” Snafu said, “and sweet dreams, Sledgehammer.”
He left Eugene in the kitchen, bounding up the stairs. Eugene could hear a hurried conversation exchanged in harsh whispers, but it was only about three minutes before it was followed by the sound of doors opening and closing.
Eugene shook his head. It wasn’t quite the welcome he anticipated, but he really should’ve known by now that there was no way to make predictions around Merriell Shelton.
He took one more deep breath before making his way back up the stairs. It was finally time to sleep.