Third Person - Complete

Go Forth...

Roberts sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his running shoes. Nikes. Navy blue with the silvery reflective swoosh and the Velcro strap closures. They'd set him back nearly fifty dollars and at first, in Basic and AIT, they'd been comfortable.

Now they felt weird.

Roberts sighed and took them off, slowly, before putting on his combat boots. Lacing them up, wrapping the laces around the top, then tying them off and tucking them into his boot. He tugged his pantlegs down over his boots and stared.

That felt right.

His feet didn't feel like they were being smothered.

Roberts squinched his toes in his boots for a moment, started to stand up, then just sat back down.

He couldn't really think of a reason to get up.

I wonder what everyone is doing back home? he thought to himself. Lewis is probably nursing a black eye from fighting, Patch is probably half drunk and acting like his leg doesn't hurt, Baker is probably singing while working in the medical room, and Cromwell is probably bitching about everyone getting hurt.

He sighed again, staring at his feet.

I want to go home.

There was a knock at his bedroom door and he looked up. "Come in, I'm dressed."

His father stood in the doorway, looking anxious. "Are you all right, son?"

Roberts nodded. "Yeah. I feel better after my nap."

His father nodded slowly and Roberts could see the doubt in his father's eyes.

"Your mother wants to know if you want to go to church," His father said.

Roberts shrugged. "I can go with her. I'll need my bandages redone."

He stood up, ignoring how he looked in the mirror on his closet door. The long thick scar down his side from his armpit and the scars on his chest and back.

"You want your momma to do it?" The elder Roberts asked.

Roberts nodded. He moved over and picked up the medical kit Cromwell had pressed into his hands before he had left. Bandages, gauze pads, medical tape, iodine, betadine, a cream with lidocaine in it, and other stuff he needed to care for his injuries were all inside.

"I'll let her know," Dave Roberts said.

"I'll wait in the dining room," Roberts told his father. He walked out to the dining room, sitting down at the table, and stared at the room around him. It still looked off, but it no longer felt like it was some kind of movie set.

"Jamie?" His mother asked. He could hear her coming up behind him.

"I need my bandages put back on," Roberts said.

"How long until all those staples come out?" His mother asked.

"Next week. I'm supposed to go to a doctor and have it done," Roberts said. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin. "I... don't know any doctors."

The thought of someone but Cromwell or Baker working on him made his skin crawl.

His mother opened the kit, revealing the contents. She stared at it for a long minute.

"Iodine first, then the betadine, then the cream on the incisions, then just cut the pads and tape them in place. After that, bandages around my chest and upper back," Roberts said.

"Some of the staples have blood around them," His mother said.

Roberts shrugged. "That's normal, I guess."