Third Person - Complete

Toddler Time

Roberts sat on the bed, watching TV, his pillow behind his back to cushion the headboard he was leaning against. Stillwater was laying on his bed, his leg elevated by pillows, reading a field manual and jotting down notes on a yellow legal pad with his left hand. His right arm was still strapped to his stomach, forcing Stillwater to set down the book every time he wanted to write anything down.

Roberts was a little irritated that Stillwater kept lounging around in his boxers instead of putting on at least sweats. Those bruises made his stomach churn in disgust. They'd spread across his chest and down his side, up and down his leg, turning all kinds of different colors.

They looked just plain grotesque.

His eye was worse. Stillwater wasn't bothering to wear his eyepatch, just his glasses, and he was constantly dabbing at his cheek with a cloth to blot away bloody tears.

That practically made Roberts sick.

Instead Roberts just stared at the TV, militantly ignoring the other man.

There was a knock on the door. Three heavy, carefully spaced knocks.

"You better get that. It sounds official," Stillwater said without looking up from his manual.

That was starting to annoy Roberts more and more. It seemed to Roberts that the other man could at least ask instead of just telling him to answer the door.

Roberts got up, hit pause on the VCR as he walked by, and walked over to the door.

"What?" He asked, swinging open the door.

"Is that how you were trained to answer a door, Private First Class Roberts?" The big amazon woman asked, staring down at him.

The first thing he noticed that she was in full BDU's, with highly shined boots and the uniform starched and creased. She was staring down at him, her face aloof and stern, reminding him of the Drill Instructors from Basic Training and AIT.

"It's my room," Roberts started.

"That is now how you answer a door, soldier," The amazon stated coldly. She motioned at him to step back. "I will instruct you on how to properly answer a door."

Roberts felt his spine stiffen and knew he was turning red. It was the door to his room, how dare she come up on a Friday night and lecture him on answering his own door.

"Don't you glare at me, soldier," The amazon said. "Now step back," She turned to look outside the door. "Sergeant Cromwell, will you act as the demonstrator?"

"Of course, Sergeant Stokes," The fat girl said from outside of Roberts's vision.

Roberts stepped back reflexively when the big woman stepped into the room. She did a crisp about face and faced the doorway.

"When you hear someone knock, you answer the door politely, as an NCO or an officer may knock on your door at any hour," She said coldly. "As well as higher ranking, or even lower ranking people may be sent on official business to see you or your room mate."

She closed the door.

"Correct military etiquette is not optional, Private First Class," the big amazon said.

There were three crisp clear spaced knocks.

"May I help you?" Stokes asked, opening the door fully to expose the fat girl standing in the doorway. Roberts noticed that she was dressed in a starched and pressed uniform with mirror polished boots.

The amazon did a right face and looked down at Roberts. "Now, you do it," she said as Cromwell closed the door.

Roberts felt himself getting redder. How dare she come into his room and act like this.