Jimmy Jane

Chapter 11- Someone to fall back on

Chapter 11- Jimmy Jane

Jane/Jimmy POV

Someone to fall back on

John doesn’t talk. He doesn’t eat and he doesn’t sleep. He stares, at the tent wall like he has been for the past few days. Trapped in his own world of horror and guilt. I feel his pain, the way he must be feeling, after killing that Vietnamese man. We share a tent, in a base camp in the outskirts of Saigon. Apparently there is not enough room in the hotels at the moment so we share an oval sized area with hundreds of other soldiers waiting to be given another mission.

The whole trek home John hardly ate and he offered to do all the night watches. Timmy, like me has stood by him, given him someone to fall back on. We talk now, more often than we did before. I think I have earned more respect from Timmy now, he sees me as a soldier not a hopeless little wimp.

I grab my towel and bar of soap and a new set of camouflage pants, a fresh bandage, and a loose grey army sweater. I slip on my boots and unzip the tent door; I slip my head through the gap, getting a faceful of the tent flap. It smells like old fish and bad body sweat mixed with dirt and other smells I would rather not mention. I listen, for movement. Darkness falls over the camp, with only gas lamps placed at intervals along the paths to show where to walk. Good, everyone is asleep. I poke my head back into the tent and whisper to John.

“I am going to take a shower now, I’ll be back soon” I whisper. He holds up a hand in reply.

I nod to myself and step through the door and into the fresh night air. Clouds scatter the sky stopping the full brilliantness of the stars shine from my view. The air smells dry and crisp filled with the smells of gunpowder and dust that has been carried on the winds from the battle not far away.

The slight breeze rustles my short hair that is slowly growing out. I’ll have to cut it soon, because I will start to look like me again. Jane Dearsley. I creep along the shadows, close to the tents and all the snoring soldiers, some are still up drinking and playing cards, the soft illumination of their gas lamps give them away, but they are commander’s tents so they can do what they like. My boots softly crunch down on the dry earth as I approach the shower cubicles.

There is a reason why I shower at night and not in the day like the rest of the blokes. Apart from the obvious fact that I am a girl, I don’t shower with the boys because the shower only consists of a pole in the centre of a ring wall, which spurts out water for six men at a time. That’s right; six men all stand naked together and have a shower in broad daylight. I followed John to the showers one time so I didn’t look like a sticky kid that never washes, but the sight almost nocked my boots off, HAIR! Everywhere and full-grown males washing each other’s backs! So I ran from there as quickly as possible.

I reach the shower area and take a quick walk around the outside, checking for any lingering men. After circling for five minutes I decide the time has come to wash and get it over with. I dump my fresh clothes in the corner and pull off my pants, then my shirt and unwrap my breasts. They feel heavy and dangling, after having them wrapped tight close to my chest all the time it feels great to let them free like they should be. I slowly turn the squeaky tap, that makes me wince with how much noise echoes throughout the night and warm water comes rushing out of the spurt, still hot from the days heat. I smile as the water washes over my body in calming waves as I scrub every remnant of sweat and dirt out of my hair and skin. I close my eyes as memories fill my brain, the water calming my body and making me dream, dream of a time where I wasn’t constantly covered in mud, or a time when I was so innocent to the world around me that I had no cares in the world, to a time when I could be me. Jane, just average Jane.

It was a Friday afternoon and school had just finished for the week, Thank God, I don’t think I could have lasted another rude remark from Anna and her little copy cats. I sit in my cubby house high in the backyard tree. The sun is slowly going down over the crest of the valley opposite and the luscious green trees illuminate in the suns golden glory. I sit with my two metal water buckets and my scrubbing brush, on the edge of the small veranda that overhangs the side of the cubby house. I swirl my brush around the deck, cleaning all the muddy footprints that I had trekked up here earlier during my tree climbing course. “Bloody Anna,” I think “one day I’ll fill your plates with ink or ill push you over in the playground and you can graze one of your perfect knees” Why does she always pick on me? What have I ever done to her? I scrub with angry strokes taking out all my anger of her bullying on my poor wooden floorboards. I hear fingers undoing the latch on my back gate and run to the other side of my cubby house, my heart swelling with joy. A small figure stands at my back gate, his light brown hair glowing in the afternoon sunset and his brown eyes looking around my backyard curiously. Timmy! He always comes around every Friday afternoon to hang out with me, even though most of the time we argue about what to play. I scurry back to my buckets and pull them down next to me. I hoist one of them on my lap and tilt it towards the ground slightly careful not to tip any water out. MY body shakes with laughter as I hear Timmy walk towards the cubby house. “Jane?” he asks. “Over here” I shout as he turns around the base of the tree and grabs hold of the first rung of the ladder leading up to the tree house. I smile. I pour the bucket of cold water down to the ground and squeal in pleasure as Timmy shouts as the water drenches his whole body. “JANE!” he yells as he scrambles to get off the ground. “That’s not fair we didn’t agree on having a water fight today I wasn’t ready”. “Doesn’t matter” I reply “I decided we are playing a water fight and YOU are losing badly” I laugh as I go to grab my other bucket. “But I decide what game we play today, it is my Friday to decide, you choose last week, besides I’m older, so respect your olders Jane!” he whines as he shakes himself off. “No you’re not” I yell back in between laughing fits. “Yes I am! I’m eight and your six, so I am older and I will decide” he shouts back. “Whatever pansy” I shout as I tip another bucket of water over his head. ”JANE!!!!!!!” he shouts as I go to hide inside the cubby. He will never catch me, I think.