Alexander's Gift

The Soldier- 4

After those two incidents- which both miraculously left Hunter out of the Stockade- Dick had fallen into a place of relative comfort as to where he sat on the military food chain, and knowing what to expect each day. After the second altercation during fatigue, though, Dick had put a little distance between him and Hunter, the warmth of admiration and understanding dimmed as Hunter's outward actions continued to baffle him.

His outfit had been out of basic training for a few months when a final incident between Dick and Hunter left things forever changed between them. Dick was just lying upside down on his bunk, lighting a cigarette and watching the hazy string of smoke fizzle into the already hazy air, when he heard a high-pitched, nasal cry pierce the air, "You son of a bitch! Give that back or I'll smash your face in, you pig!" 

Dick sat upright, startled, and swiveled his head around the squadroom until he found the source of the sound: a tiny, but scrappy, Jewish boy was facing a smug-looking private who Dick didn't know but who didn't look very friendly. "I don't think I will," The private was saying with an arrogant, needling tone that told Dick he knew exactly what he was doing and enjoyed it. He glanced down at something in his hand that from Dick's bunk appeared to be a color photograph. "You know, come to think of it, I bet she'd be one cookie to lay." 

A wave of coldness ran through Dick as he knew that the private had gone too far, and that the picture was probably of the Jew's girl back home, but the thought of intervening hadn't even occurred to him until the Jew shoved the man back, furiously shouting, "You miserable, lousy son of a bitch! That's my sister you're talking about!" When those words that hung ominously in the air were filtered through Dick's mind with all of their weight and implications, Dick was on his feet and crossing the room before he even consciously decided to do so. 

With a strange sort of feeling compelling him that blinded him to any sort of rational thinking beyond his fist smashing into that smug private's face, Dick bowled the man over and snatched the picture from him. He only had enough time to hand the picture to the wide-eyed, awestruck Jew before his legs were swept out from under him so that he landed on his back on the concrete floor. The breath knocked clear out of his lungs, he could only glance up at the faces that leered at him from above with mouth wide open as he gasped for breath.

"You shouldn'ta done dat to our friend." One of the voices growled before stomping him in the stomach so hard that Dick reckoned that were his spine not there, the man's boot would have reached clear through to the floor beneath him. After that, everything was a blur of commotion, punctuated by a buzzing in his ears.

Finally there was a firm, but friendly hand pulling him to his feet and holding his arm to keep him steady. Trying to ignore the nausea that crept up his throat, Dick blinked and focused on the face in front of him. It was Hunter. "Are you okay, buddy?" Dick looked past Hunter and saw two men slinking away stiffly, cursing under their breath. 

"Did you-" 

"Eh, it was a long time comin'. We're friends, right?" Hunter shrugged modestly, still holding him steady, and Dick noticed the cut he was sporting above his eye that was dripping darkly scarlet down the side of his face. "But you got hurt- it didn't even have to do with you!" He continued incredulously, knowing that Hunter was uncomfortable with it, and not sure why he was so surprised that Hunter would defend him. Still trying to understand, Dick took a surveying look around the room- there was only the Jew there, clutching his picture close to his chest, so Hunter couldn't have done it to impress anyone.

Could it be that Hunter had truly helped him because he cared about what happened to Dick?

###

"Can I ask you something?" Dick whispered tentatively out of the corner of his mouth, not allowing his hand to falter from its circular scrubbing of the wall.