Always
Always a Marine Exclusive
Flash Fic
by Heather Long
“Good
morning, I’m Ruby Jenkins. I’m here at Mike’s Place, a rehabilitation facility
located in Allen, Texas.
“During
World War II, the Marine Corps were called Devil Dogs by the German forces and
painted as psychotic criminals and murderously insane by the Japanese for their
unrestrained ruthlessness and ferocity on the battlefield. When you say Marine,
the average person thinks of the roughest and rowdiest members of our armed
services. When you meet these men and women who serve our country, well, it’s
not entirely a lie.” The camera pans around a group of men and two women. “But
it’s also not the whole story. Today, I’d like to invite you to join me as we
go beyond the lines, beyond the uniform…we’re talking with Luke Dexter, James
Westwood, Logan Cavanaugh, Damon Sinclair, Jasmine Cavanaugh, Mary Phillips, Matt
McCall, Joe Cooper and Congressman Brent Sparks.”
The
camera zeroes in on the group seated around a conversation pit created by three
sofas, lingering on each individual as Ruby introduces them. “First, thank you
very much for agreeing to this, everyone, and to you especially Captain Dexter
for opening the doors to Mike’s Place this week and letting me talk to some of
the patients about their recovery.”
“You’re
welcome.” Luke Dexter smiled. “It’s an important message to send and if it
helps us continue to secure funding to keep helping our brothers and sisters,
and their families during their recovery and after they are home—we’re more
than happy to help.”
“Well,
let’s start right there. You opened Mike’s Place, Captain, of those seated
here, each of you contributes to Mike’s Place in some way—what initially
brought you here?”
The
camera focuses on James Westwood. “I’m a licensed psychologist. When I
enlisted, I only had a few clinical hours to go to complete my licensing. Luke
told me what he planned—I knew this is exactly where I needed to be and signed
on before construction began.”
“James
leads our psychology department,” Luke interjected. “More than that, he built
it. He vets every psychologist we hire. They work together and individually to
make sure everyone is matched with the therapist that will do the best for
their recovery.”
“Something
like that, but the truth is people need someone who not only listens to them,
but also hears them.” A half-smile curved James’ lips. “You would be amazed by
how many people hear only what they want to hear. We’re not looking for
sympathy or someone to feel sorry for us. We want to work together to be whole,
find our footing, and get our lives on track.”
“You
use ‘we’ instead of them,” Ruby observed.
“I
do.” James nodded. “We’re a unit. We’re Marines and I am one of the guys.”
“It’s
exactly why James is so good at what he does.” Matt McCall sat forward and
patted the black Labrador at his feet. “He is one of us. We know he knows what
it’s like. I’ve been a patient here on and off for two years, and I’m proud to
say that I am recovering. My recovery is in no small part due to every person
in this room…and to Jethro.”
For
a moment, the camera draws back and smiles of pride arrest the face of every
person present. “Oorah, Matt.” Logan Cavanaugh murmurs and that oorah echoes
from the gathered. The younger man grins, and glances down at the dog.
“Recovery
is an individual process.” This from Jasmine Cavanaugh. “I was injured by an
IED and fortunately I didn’t lose a limb, but I did suffer extensive head
trauma. It took time to heal, still takes time. I do continual physio and see
the doctors here regularly to monitor my progress. I was extremely fortunate to
be able to recover and make decisions about my future surrounded by people who
genuinely care about me.” A sidelong look at Logan. “And who can put up with my
temper.”
Logan’s
grin grew. “No problem, you have nothing on my temper.”
Damon
Sinclair laughed. “No kidding, Logan was a bear during his recovery. Growling
and snapping at everyone. More power to you for turning the bear into a house
cat.”
“Watch
it, Sinclair, I don’t need claws to beat you up.” The friendly jest earned
another round of laughter. “Like Jazz, I came here partially for recovery and
because I believed in what Captain Dexter was doing. Still do.” Scars mottle
the left side of his face.
“You
were also injured by an IED,” Ruby sits forward and at Logan’s nod. “Do you
have a lot of patients that have IED injuries?”
“Unfortunately.”
Logan nodded. “It’s one of the hazards of the job.” When he doesn’t elaborate,
the camera pans to Damon.
“Mr.
Sinclair, you opened a restaurant? But you also volunteer here at the
facility.”
“Yes,”
he nodded. “When the time came to retire, I wanted to be close enough to help
out. I’m from New Orleans originally, and Dallas is close enough I can visit
family when I like. But I couldn’t let these ugly mugs have all the fun without
me.”
Snorts
of laughter. “Have you looked in the mirror recently?” The aside was low, but
the camera didn’t pull back to reveal who said it. More laughter.
“Most
of your employees come from the recovering veterans and their families here?”
“Yes,
ma’am. I give my guys an opportunity if they want. They don’t always stay long
term, but it’s a good stepping stone for getting back out there, and its money
in the pocket. We have residential facilities that let families stay while
their injured member is recovering, and some need to work or just want to. I’ll
hire a veteran or their family member before others. It’s about supporting the
unit and the Corps.” Damon paused, considering. “Of course, they’re also my
best patrons, too.”
“That’s
because you’re an excellent cook, hon.” Mary Phillips added, “The gumbo was to
die for.” The camera focuses on the stunning beauty of dark skinned woman
sitting next to Jasmine Cavanaugh. The fact that Mary wore Marpats didn’t
detract from her beauty at all.
“Sergeant
Phillips, you’re still active duty, correct?” Ruby inquired.
“Yes,
ma’am. Currently awaiting deployment, but I had leave this weekend and came out
with Congressman Sparks.”
“I wanted to thank both of you for that,” Ruby smiled. “I know you’re both
exceptionally busy. According to my notes, you were actually Miss California…”
Wolf
whistles and whoops break out and Mary chuckles. “Yes, I entered a lot of
beauty pageants when I was younger.”
“A
lot?” Jasmine teased. “She can put runway models to shame with her walk—and
that’s in combat boots with an eighty pound rucksack on.”
More
laughter erupts around the room and Ruby lets them calm down a bit. “So, why Marines? If you don’t mind me asking. It doesn’t seem
to be one of those career tracks you expect beauty queens to follow.”
“And
that’s a mistake. Did you know that for women, beauty pageants comprise some of
the best scholarship money in the country? We reward women for being beautiful,
for smiling pretty and walking nice—that’s not applauding their minds or
encouraging their talents.” Mary met Ruby’s gaze evenly. “The minute you say
beauty pageant, or beauty contestant, the average person thinks that girl must
be an idiot, because all she has is her looks. I’ve known contestants that went
on to get degrees in nuclear physics, become doctors, nurses, and yes—Marines.
I wanted a job that demanded everything I have and I found it in the Marines.”
“Oorah.”
The encouraging vocalization took on a deeper meaning.
“And
you’re a damn fine Marine,” Jasmine complimented her.
“Oorah,
Gunny. Oorah.” Mary winked.
“I
could probably ask you a dozen other questions,” Ruby grinned. “But let’s talk
to Captain Cooper, who is also still on active duty, but you spent some time
here at Mike’s Place.”
The
camera focuses on the dark skinned male in his uniform. “Yes, ma’am. I spent
several months here, actually recovering from a spinal injury. Thanks to these
folks and the others in the physio wing and a fantastic medical staff, I am
back on my feet and ready for duty.”
“Do
you believe you’ll be up for another deployment overseas?”
“You
go where the job sends you. Whether it’s here, the sandbox—wherever.” Succinct
and direct. “We were talking about this the other day when you asked if we
would participate and I believe that Mike’s Place keeps us connected to each
other, and when you’ve been the places we have, seen the things we’ve seen—you
need others who get it.”
“Agreed,”
Luke waved a hand at the others. “They had my back out there, and we’ll have
your back here.”
Another
round of oorahs. Ruby gives them a moment and then looks to the last member of
their group. “Congressman Sparks, you’re a very vocal supporter of Mike’s Place
in and out of Congress, but you’ve never been a patient here.”
“You
don’t have to benefit directly from a service to applaud it, and to want it to
succeed. Our veteran’s programs need more efforts like Mike’s Place, not fewer.
These guys know what they’re doing. They’ve made a personal and professional
pledge to each other. That’s something you say oorah to and you do everything
you can to support.” The congressman grinned.
“You
were a Marine…”
“Am.”
He corrected her. “There’s no such thing as an ex-Marine.” Vocal grumbles of
assent emphasize his comment. “In or out of the uniform, we’re always Marines.”
“Understood,”
Ruby ducked her head in apology. “You were injured in the line of duty.”
“Yes,
ma’am. Lost my leg. There wasn’t a Mike’s Place during my recovery. I think a
facility like this would have been great then. So I know what it’s like on the
other side, another reason to support it.” His game smile never faltered, and
it emphasized his comfort and acceptance with who he was. “I come from a family
of Marines. That’s what the Corps does, it unifies you and solidifies those
ties.”
“I
have to say, I admire everything you’re doing here, and the plans you have for
the future—but I do have one last question for all of you. There’s a rumor on
the campus about a pact made by several of the members regarding the 1Night
Stand service…”
Laughter
erupts and Jasmine holds out her hand. “Pay up, I told you she would wait till
near the end to ask…” Money passes around the room and the Gunnery Sergeant
accepts several five-dollar bills.
“So
I’m going to take that as a yes,” Ruby’s amusement lightened her words. “Why
would you all commit to a service like that?”
“Why
not?” James answered. “The 1Night Stand’s reputation is impeccable and for
those that found immersion and re-entry difficult, it provided a controlled,
and comfortable way to meet someone. We don’t single people out, when everyone
committed it allowed those who really needed it an opportunity they might not
have otherwise enjoyed.”
“And
for those that didn’t need it,” Logan added. “It still had value, because we
all need someone to care about…”
“Awww,
Logan’s turned into a care bear,” Damon hooted and barely avoided the mock
punch Logan threw his way. “But he’s right, I think on some level even the guys
who didn’t ‘need’ the service, did. So far, I’d say Madame Evangeline hasn’t
had a miss yet.”
“I
don’t suppose those of you who did participate would like to share your
experiences?” Ruby didn’t sound like she thought they would answer and at their
silence, she grinned. “A girl had to ask. Before we wrap this up, what are your
plans for the future?”
“Our
future or Mike’s Place?” Luke asked.
“Either.
Both.”
The
group glanced at each other and nodded in unison to Luke. The captain grinned.
“The same plan we have every day—to grow stronger, cover each other’s backs and
get the job done.”
“Oorah.”
The
camera pulls back to sweep the group once more and then cuts to Ruby standing
outside the facility. “We’ll see more from the men and women of Mike’s Place in
personal interviews. The facility let me spend an entire week here, walking
through some of the recovery process. Not everyone here is a Marine, they have
staff and patients from all of the armed services, but the Marines who started
this facility are a tight group and they have maintained their commitment to
honor, service, and each other—once a Marine, always a Marine. So maybe the Japanese and the Germans in World
War II were right, the Marines I’ve met have been devilishly charming,
extraordinarily talented, and absolutely ruthless in their devotion to building
a stronger life. This is Ruby Jenkins looking beyond the uniform.”
Fade
to black.
