T For Texas

Mule Skinner's Blues

Dear Mary Grace,

I am writing just to keep up. It's been a hard few weeks. I've seen five boys buried because of snipers. Their faces were no longer recognizable, and it gave me chills. We only knew who they were by their bloodied dog tags. How could a man kill like that?
They only see their faces then bam, they no longer have anything. They're dead. They don't breath, they don't move. They just crumble away.
Gone
It scares me a lot Mary. I wouldn't know if it happened. I wouldn't know what hit me. I'd just be gone. I wouldn't be able to tell you what happened. I would just be gone. Does that scare you as much as it scares me?

Buck Whitman

Mary Grace stared at the letter. Her chest hurt like somebody was crushing it. She wanted to hold Buck, to make sure he was safe, but he wasn't safe. He was anything but safe.
Mary Grace needed to talk to someone. She reached for her phone. Her hand shook as she dialed the number into the phone. She could hear the click as the rotary went back to its starting position.
Mary Grace listened to phone ring.
"Hello?"
"Thomas?" Mary Grace asked. Her voice shook slightly.
"Yeah, what do you need?" Thomas asked.
"I need ta talk ta somebody," Mary Grace said.
"I'm busy right now. I would really like to talk to you, but I'm in a meeting," Thomas said. "Wait." Thomas covered the receiver to muffle his shouting. "Hey Mike, can you take this for me?"
There was silence as the phone was passed to Mike.
"Hello?" Came Mike's Texan twang.
Mary Grace felt her eyes burn then she burst out crying. "Mike, I got a letter from my fiancé and he's scaring me," She said.
"He's not sayin' anything about leavin' you?" Mike asked. He sounded concerned. He could tell Mary Grace was very upset.
"No, he won't stop writing me 'bout his fear of death," Mary Grace said wiping her eyes. "I jus' want him home and safe."
"Don't worry, he'll come home soon," Mike said, "and when he does come back he'll kiss ya and hug ya. Then you'll be happy again."
Mary Grace wiped a tear from her eyes. As much as she wanted to believe what Mike was saying she had a growing fear in the pit of her stomach that nothing would be all right. "What if he isn't all right? What if something is really wrong with him?" Mary Grace asked.
"There's nothing wrong with him. He'll be fine when he comes home," Mike insisted.
Mary Grace tugged at the chord of her phone. She wanted to stop thinking about Buck for a minute, but she also wanted to be with him. She grabbed a piece of paper and started to write a letter back to Buck. Mike listened to the silence.
"Mary Grace?" Mike asked.
Mary Grace ignored Mike and continued to write her letter in sloppy handwriting.

Dear Buck,

Please...

Mary Grace stared the first words of her letter. Please what? Please don't write about death because it makes her uncomfortable? Please don't feel sad that those boys died? Please what?
"Mary Grace?!" Mike's voice was more urgent, but she continued to write her letter paying no mind to him.
Mary Grace heard a click as Mike hung up the phone. She thought hard about each word she put down on the paper. What was she supposed to tell him? What did she want him to hear?
There was a loud knock on the door. Mary Grace didn't even stand up to get the door. She just continued to stare at the paper. Words were so hard to come by.
"Mary Grace?!" Mike's twang called through the door.
Mary Grace still didn't pay him any mind. She heard the door open. Mike walked into her apartment. She was still staring at the paper.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Mike exclaimed. He was mad. He was certain Mary Grace was going to try something drastic.
Mary Grace shrugged. "I was thinking," She said writing a word on the paper.
Mike walked towards Mary Grace. He looked at both letters, deciding to pick up Buck's letter. He read through it then he put it back down and went to find a chair. He sat the chair he found beside Mary Grace.
"Do you need to talk?" Mike asked.
Mary Grace shook her head as she scribbled down a couple more words.
"That wasn't the feeling I was gettin' when you called," Mike said.
"Things change," Mary Grace said as she continued to write.
"Not that fast. Talk to me about what's wrong. Why do you think he's acting like that? Are you mad at him? Just tell me," Mike insisted.
Mary Grace stared at her letter.

Dear Buck,

Please don't talk like that. It can't be good for you to think about those boys. What happened to them was tragic. We all wish this war was over...

"I'm not mad at Buck," Mary Grace said slowly.
"Then what's wrong?" Mike asked.
Mary Grace put down her pen and pulled at her hair. She didn't know what was wrong. There was just this sinking feeling that something was wrong. She was mad, but she didn't know what she was mad at: Buck for telling her everything that happened in the war or the government for starting the war or Mike for not being in the war. She was just devastated for one reason or another.
Mary Grace began to cry. Tears fell all over the beginning of her letter. Mike drew her towards him and let her cry on his shoulder. Her sobs were ragged.
"It's okay, shhh, it's okay," Mike said holding her close.
Mike kissed the top of Mary Grace's head. She continued to cry. The tears didn't seem like they would stop, and they didn't until she cried out all the tears she had. Once she could only sniffle and hiccup she took her head off of Mike's chest. She was very close to him; so close she could see straight into his eyes. His eyes drew suddenly nearer, and his lips pressed into hers.