Caro's Descent

Chapter Five - The Recruiter

I rested for three days, but after months of abuse, my body needed more time to recover. As promised, I accompanied my brother to the gym. Paul stood behind the bench as I forced the bar from my chest. His eyes wandered from me to the squat machine, then back again.

Satan taunted me. His sinister whisper echoed through my mind, "Come on, Michael. Is this all you have? Push! Show your brother what you can do. A mere hundred pounds, Paul can do that one-handed. You're a disgrace!"

His taunting somehow motivated me to finish my last repetition, and I switched places with my brother. The Devil continued to pester. His words crept into my thoughts like unwelcome shadows. "Oh, well, anything's better than returning to your mother's church. Now, you think you can spot your brother? Paul pushes two-thirty. What will you do if he needs help? Pay attention, Michael! Paul warned you you're not here to look at asses." After seeing my brother's eyes wander toward the squat machine, I needed to see what he found so appealing.

"She sure is sexy, though, isn't she?" Satan continued. "Watch as her butt sticks out when she squats. Oh, yeah, look at her, Michael. Where are you getting those thoughts? You've got some pretty intricate thoughts for someone so inexperienced. Who could have placed those thoughts in your head?"

"Mikey, help!" Paul's voice, filled with panic, cut through the murky fog of the distraction.

My head jerked toward my brother as the bar squeezed against his neck. His face flushed red, and he grunted as he struggled to push. Paralyzing terror gripped me. I reached down to help, but the bar was too heavy.

His voice angered me as Satan continued to harass, his tone now mocking and relentless. "You idiot, you forgot about your brother. Pull! Come on, Michael. You weak little shit, you're useless. Pull before he chokes himself to death."

Paul's face changed from red to purple while his eyes bulged from their sockets. My heart sprang to my throat, and fire surged through my veins. The world fell away; only my brother and I existed in this frantic, helpless moment. The gym went silent, although everyone continued with their routines and conversations.

A burst of energy rushed through me, and the bar became weightless. The Devil seemed impressed as I lifted the bar from Paul's neck and placed it on the rack. "What's this? Where did you find this strength? Nice job, Michael." His voice tingled with twisted admiration.

"What the hell, Mike?" Paul's face was still flushed as he sat up. Anger and relief mingled in his voice.

"Sorry, Paul. I suck at spotting." Shame threaded through my words.

"Fuckin' asshole, I told you you're not here to look at asses. You need to pay attention!" His sharp reprimand jolted me.

"Oh, shut up, Paul! You hypocrite, I saw you checking her out, too." Defensiveness lined my retort as I shot back.

A cold, mocking symphony of Satan's laughter filled my head. "He's been checking her out for weeks now."

My body calmed to its normal state as I leaned against the bench and sighed. "Damn, Paul. I didn't think I'd be able to lift that bar off your neck. I don't get what happened. It's like I got a sudden burst of energy. That bar—it suddenly became weightless." My voice fused with confusion and awe, masking my lingering fear.

Paul stood and ruffled my hair; his favorite gesture, meant to reassure me, didn't hide the disappointment glaring in his eyes. "That's adrenaline, Mike. It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but I've felt adrenaline before. This was different. It was like something deep inside me—it just took over." My words barely captured the depth of my bewilderment.

"Are you guys all right?" a man with a friendly smile asked, his presence breaking the momentary tension. His hair was high and tight, and his perfectly groomed mustache ended at the corners of his mouth.

I envied the man's muscular build. Insecurity twisted through my guts, and I thought, he's no stranger to this gym. Paul must know him.

"We're fine," Paul answered. "No thanks to this idiot."

The dark-haired stranger smiled at my brother. "Go easy on him; he's young. I saw you gawking at her, too. Don't get me wrong. I don't blame you guys. She's got a great body." His voice was casual, but I saw the knowing glint in his eye as he threw me a subtle wink. "You should see her naked."

I felt a strange mix of admiration and envy, causing me to admire him further. My words were clumsy and awestruck as I blurted out, "Wow, you slept with her? That's awesome. I can't even imagine—"

"He's full of shit, Mike!" Paul sharply cut in, distrust evident in his tone. "Come on, get your ass on the bench."

The stranger reached out to shake my hand, his demeanor suddenly businesslike. "Mike. What's your last name, Mike? You seem right around the proper age."

Paul pushed my arm away as I attempted to return the man's gesture. "Get the hell outta here. He's not joining. You're wasting your time." Urgency underlined his protective tone.

"I'm not joining what? What are you talking about, Paul? Who is this guy?" I demanded, a creeping sense of confusion in my voice.

Again, the stranger extended a hand toward me. Paul didn't intervene. "I'm Sergeant Bennett, the local Army recruiter." His words hit like a predator.

I yanked my hand back, as I had no intention of joining any military branch. "Army! I'm not joining no damn Army! Is that what you're up to?" My voice rose with defiance.

The recruiter smiled, and the calm, assertive glow in his sky-blue eyes intrigued me. "All right, all right, you're probably too young, anyway. I'll leave you alone." His smile showed a layer of calculation as his intentions glared through. Still smiling, Sergeant Bennett peered at the woman he claimed to have been with. "It's a shame, though," he said. "Girls like her love military guys. What am I thinking? That sort of thing wouldn't interest you, would it?" His smooth words were filled with enticing temptations.

My eyes followed his toward the girl, and the Devil spoke, "Oh, he's got you now, doesn't he, Michael?" Malice and allure stained his voice. "Yeah, watch her work those glutes. Praise be to him! That guy who invented spandex sure knew what he was doing. Go ahead, Michael. Tell Sergeant Bennett your full name. Show him you're interested. What do you have to lose, anyway? You've got no one. Your best friend is dead, and you've spent the past few months hanging out with losers. A new scenery might be exactly what you need. Look at him. Sergeant Bennett stands bold and confident. Yes, that could be you, Michael. Army Strong! Oh, that's right, that slogan isn't in use yet. You could be all you can be, Michael. You heard him. Girls like her love military guys. You've found your answer."

The promise of change and acceptance had already lured a small fragment of my desire, and I said, "It's Caro. My name is Michael Caro, and I'm eighteen years old."