Snippet Time
Small snippet from one of the future ficlets. This one goes a little bit into Andy Haldane's history.
It ended on a Tuesday morning, bright, sunny, and seemingly innocuous. Andy would be a liar if he said he didn’t see it coming, didn’t see the hard lines of frustration grown deeper in Eddie’s freckled skin, the happiness start to dim in his eyes, and disillusionment take the place of what was once clear hope.
Andy couldn’t help but blame himself as the years passed. If he had been a stronger man, he’d have spent the last four years building a life with the man he still loved instead of tracking his movements through internet postings and old colleagues.
Andy was out of the Corps a year after Eddie left, a year after Eddie left him to boot. Eddie always was the more stubborn of the two of them, more willing to make the hard decisions. Andy would never leave Eddie, and he knew that, so Eddie left him. Made the choice Andy couldn’t, wouldn’t make, and Andy had found little contentment in his life ever since.
His first year out of the Corps, two years without Eddie, he spent in the backwoods of Maine. Isolated and alone, save for a few family members and neighbors, he was able to decompress in a way no Corps Approved Program ever could. He lived out of a trailer while he built his cabin. Two rooms, nothing fancy, and he had the help of quite a few locals.
He called up Burgie, who would quote Walden at him until he gave in and agreed to fly down to Texas, take in some of the Gulf air, and join civilization again. He invited Elmo Haney to spend a few weekends. They’d camp out on the land, shoot the shit, and get into bickering fights about whether or not Andy should move to D.C. and join Naval Criminal Investigative Services. As much as Andy loved and respected the old Gunny, he couldn’t see himself carrying a weapon again.
He went down to Boston, spent a week in the Spring wandering the city, stopping at the war memorials in Charles Town, Cambridge, Mount Auburn, Boston Common, the Esplanade, every corner of the city. He walked up Bunker Hill and wondered about the men who came before him in the wars, how those who survived managed to slot back into civilian life when there was still a war on.
It was a talk with Gene Sledge that got Andy’s ass out of Maine. Sledge was still a young man lost, no longer a wide-eyed innocent, he still didn’t know what to do with his life. Andy told him to do something that gave him peace, he felt like an ass for saying it, since he couldn’t find his own, but Sledge found nature, and birds, joined the fight for conservation and decided to go to school.
Andy finished his Master’s in between tours. He was certified to teach in California, Massachusetts, Maine, and out of some small spark of hope, Maryland and Pennsylvania. He took teaching tests in different states but didn’t feel like teaching anywhere. It was his father who suggested Teach for America.
“You can still serve, Andy,” he said, “but this time you take these kids and you shape them to survive. They need teachers like you.”
They wanted people with leadership experience, according their website. Andy laughed so hard he started crying. He contacted one of the regional heads, asked about the positions in Texas and Louisiana where they were needed the most. They explained their process, what was required of their new hires, and Andy was too late to work for them at the start of the next year, but applications opened in August.
After years of feeling the brunt of shit rolling down hill, Andy decided it was time to cut out the middle micro-managers. He contacted all three of the school districts the recruiter told him about. St. Martin Parish, Louisiana, was the first to call him back.
It ended on a Tuesday morning, bright, sunny, and seemingly innocuous. Andy would be a liar if he said he didn’t see it coming, didn’t see the hard lines of frustration grown deeper in Eddie’s freckled skin, the happiness start to dim in his eyes, and disillusionment take the place of what was once clear hope.
Andy couldn’t help but blame himself as the years passed. If he had been a stronger man, he’d have spent the last four years building a life with the man he still loved instead of tracking his movements through internet postings and old colleagues.
Andy was out of the Corps a year after Eddie left, a year after Eddie left him to boot. Eddie always was the more stubborn of the two of them, more willing to make the hard decisions. Andy would never leave Eddie, and he knew that, so Eddie left him. Made the choice Andy couldn’t, wouldn’t make, and Andy had found little contentment in his life ever since.
His first year out of the Corps, two years without Eddie, he spent in the backwoods of Maine. Isolated and alone, save for a few family members and neighbors, he was able to decompress in a way no Corps Approved Program ever could. He lived out of a trailer while he built his cabin. Two rooms, nothing fancy, and he had the help of quite a few locals.
He called up Burgie, who would quote Walden at him until he gave in and agreed to fly down to Texas, take in some of the Gulf air, and join civilization again. He invited Elmo Haney to spend a few weekends. They’d camp out on the land, shoot the shit, and get into bickering fights about whether or not Andy should move to D.C. and join Naval Criminal Investigative Services. As much as Andy loved and respected the old Gunny, he couldn’t see himself carrying a weapon again.
He went down to Boston, spent a week in the Spring wandering the city, stopping at the war memorials in Charles Town, Cambridge, Mount Auburn, Boston Common, the Esplanade, every corner of the city. He walked up Bunker Hill and wondered about the men who came before him in the wars, how those who survived managed to slot back into civilian life when there was still a war on.
It was a talk with Gene Sledge that got Andy’s ass out of Maine. Sledge was still a young man lost, no longer a wide-eyed innocent, he still didn’t know what to do with his life. Andy told him to do something that gave him peace, he felt like an ass for saying it, since he couldn’t find his own, but Sledge found nature, and birds, joined the fight for conservation and decided to go to school.
Andy finished his Master’s in between tours. He was certified to teach in California, Massachusetts, Maine, and out of some small spark of hope, Maryland and Pennsylvania. He took teaching tests in different states but didn’t feel like teaching anywhere. It was his father who suggested Teach for America.
“You can still serve, Andy,” he said, “but this time you take these kids and you shape them to survive. They need teachers like you.”
They wanted people with leadership experience, according their website. Andy laughed so hard he started crying. He contacted one of the regional heads, asked about the positions in Texas and Louisiana where they were needed the most. They explained their process, what was required of their new hires, and Andy was too late to work for them at the start of the next year, but applications opened in August.
After years of feeling the brunt of shit rolling down hill, Andy decided it was time to cut out the middle micro-managers. He contacted all three of the school districts the recruiter told him about. St. Martin Parish, Louisiana, was the first to call him back.