What Happened to Wyatt

02 ｗｉｔｈｄｒａｗａｌ

The man's name is Gabriel Barnett. He joined the army at twenty-five. He met the qualifications to join and began Basic Training. He got a buzzcut, shedding his long, curly black hair and was ushered into Army life. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was to endure. He struggled through physical tests challenging to the body and mind. He had to rely on sheer determination to meet the mounting physical and mental challenges of the simulated combat scenarios. An M16, the standard issue weapon of the U.s. Army, became a new responsibility, demanding Gabriel's knowledge and respect. Before a single round could be fired, numerous nuances like breathing, stance, and mechanics were covered meticulously and rehearsed methodically.

Countless tests were thrust upon Gabriel, his fortitude was thoroughly tried and tested. Gabriel's self-assurance and confidence were built upon immensely. He gained confidence in himself, his platoon, as well as the Army way of life. He applied all he had learned in many tests, proving himself and his newfound skill set. After Basic Training was complete, Gabriel was sent to his Duty Station, which happened to be Fort Bragg, but was soon deployed. It was 2006 at the time, and Operation Iraqi Freedom was in full tilt. Gabriel was thrust into the middle of it. Gabriel was twenty-six when he stumbled upon an IED and had one of his legs blown off. At that moment his career in the military was over. Gabriel had to undergo an extensive surgery after his leg wound became infected, but Veterans Affairs covered his medical expenses.

He was released from the hospital but was to go to see a doctor every so often for his pain medication. He had no place to stay so he had rented a room in a rundown motel. Gabriel became depressed which began his alcohol addiction. He had stopped going to see his doctor, turning to heroin as a substitute for his pain medication. He had spent all of his retirement money on drugs and booze and his motel fees had continued to pile up. He was drowning in debt, and after a while, there was nothing and no one left to help him. Soon he found himself on the streets without a constant place to sleep at night or any means of food. He became a shell of his former self. It's funny how one thing leads to another.

****

We have been sitting in silence for quite some time. I'm still trying to process the horrors Gabriel has put into words, trying to fathom it all.

"Does it help...The alcohol?" I ask after a moment.

"It helps me to forget. It's a substitute for the pain." Gabriel replies, staring off into space, lost in recollection.

"But it's a temporary substitute. Don't you think it's time for you to move on?" I question.

"Don't you think I would if I could, kid? Some things you just can't shake. You ever see someone get a bullet to the head? You ever see someone blown to bits right in front of you? If you witnessed some of the things I have you wouldn't be able to sleep at night let alone function in the morning. A beer or two," He said, staring intensely into my eyes. "That's what gets me through the day, but I honestly don't see the point anymore." Before I can come up with a response Isaac steps into view.

"Break's over, man." He says, giving the two of us a once-over. Isaac ambles back inside as I get to my feet. I glance down at Gabriel, unsure of what to say.

"You heard him, you'd better get back to work. You'll have to give me the rundown of your miserable life another time." Gabriel says after a moment, giving me a half smile.

"You know where to find me," I say before turning to go. I'm about to step inside but before I do I turn around a final time. "Hang in there, Gabe," I say, looking down at my feet. He gives me a nod and with that I step inside the air-conditioned building, the door shutting with a thud behind me.