Gray Girl (10 page)

Once everyone took a turn in the
Gladiator ring, Cadet Jackson dismissed the platoon for dinner.
 
“
Wishart
,
stand fast,”
Dogety
barked.
 
Jan stood at attention by the sandbag
ring while everyone else ran off.
  
“You gave up, didn’t you?”
 

How
should I answer that?
 
Jan
didn’t want to say yes or no.
 
Neither
one would be quite right.

“Didn’t you?”
Dogety
asked again.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What the hell,
Wishart
?
 
Why did you give up without even
trying?”

Um, maybe because I don’t know how to
physically fight?
 
Or because Wright
scared the shit out of me.
 
“No
excuse, Sir.”

“You continually perplex me,
Wishart
!
 
Why are
you even here?
 
Where do you think
you are exactly?”
 
Jan couldn’t
think of a good answer.
  
“Do
you think you can just give up in war when the enemy seems to have the
advantage?
 
Geez,
Wishart
, you aren’t at Girl Scout camp for God’s
sake!”
 

I
know, I know, but….

“Do you have anything to say for
yourself?”

“No excuse, Sir!”

“
Wishart
,
sometimes you are a sorry piece of shit.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Last in line again for the dinner
meal, she picked up a tray and entered the Mobile Serving Station.
 
An Army specialist plopped what looked
like chili into a paper bowl and passed it to her.
  
Another specialist pushed a paper
plate with cornbread toward her.
 
She
picked up a pint of milk, passed on the chips and brownies, and walked out of the
other end of the vehicle.
 

At Lake Frederick, the cadre ate with
cadre and the new cadets ate with their squads.
 
Both
Dogety
and Jackson, sitting on a patch of grass near the exit of the serving station,
looked up when she emerged.

“What’s on your plate,
Wishart
?”
 
Jackson asked.

“Chili, cornbread and milk,” she
answered.

“Chili, cornbread and milk,
WHAT?”
 
Dogety
demanded.

“Sir!
 
Chili, cornbread and milk, SIR!”
 
she
said
with attitude
as her mother use to
say.
 

“Do you really need to eat that
cornbread,
Wishart
?”
 
Jackson asked again.
 

Suddenly she had had enough.
 
“Sir, you can have my damn cornbread,”
she said as she threw it at him.
 

“What the hell!”
 
Jackson jumped up and stormed toward
Jan.
  

Dogety
got
to her first.
 
“
Wishart
,
go inside the mess station, NOW.”
 
Jan turned and ran up the three steps.
 
Dogety
stood
at the bottom of the steps while Jackson tried to push past him.
 
“Markus, leave it alone,
”
 
she
heard him
say quietly to Jackson.

“What the hell are you doing,
man?
 
You saw what she did,” Jackson
yelled at his friend.

“Yeah, I saw it, and I’ll deal with
it,
”
 
Dogety
said.

“Like you’ve been doing?
 
Your plan
ain’t
working so well, Sam?
 
I’ll deal with her myself.”

“Settle down, Markus.
 
She’s in my squad.
 
I’ll take care of it.”
 
Jan had never heard
Dogety
defend her before.
 

Jackson stared at
Dogety
in disbelief for a moment.
 
Then he
said, “You’re pussy-whipped, aren’t you, Sam?
 
She giving you something, is that it?”

Dogety
grabbed Jackson by his shirt with both hands, “I said that’s enough.
 
Let’s not make this worse than it
is.”
 
Jan watched as the two
firstie
friends seemed locked in a trance.
 
Then
Dogety
let go of Jackson’s shirt.
 

“You’re an idiot,” Jackson mumbled as
he turned away.
 

Dogety
looked into the mess station and said,
 
“
Wishart
, come here.”
 
Jan ran down the three steps, still
holding her mess tray with the chili and milk.
 
“Don’t ever pull that kind of shit
again, you got me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You could have been in a truckload
of trouble if Jackson wanted to push it.
 
I plan to finish Beast with my entire squad intact.
 
That includes even you.”

“Yes, Sir.”
 

“If you pull another stunt like that,
I will not be able to protect you.
 
You got me?”
 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now go eat with the rest of the
squad.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She approached her squad, nine male
new cadets sitting nearby on the grass, all of whom had witnessed the mess
station incident.
 
Without an
opening in their circle, she sat down just outside the loop.
 
She hoped someone would move over,
making room for her to join, but that didn’t happen.
 
After an awkward minute of silence, they
resumed their talking and laughing.

Well,
now they must love me even more.

She observed the other squads with
women.
 
Wright laughed in the midst
of her squad.
 
Plowden
and McCarron seemed fully engaged with their squads.
 
And
here I am sitting by myself, talking to myself.
 
Maybe it’s just me
.
 
Maybe I'm just never going to fit in
here.

At that very moment, New Cadet
Hambin
turned around. “Hey,
Wishart
,
what the hell just happened?”

“Oh, I just threw my cornbread at
Jackson.”
 

“Whoa!
 
That’s gutsy—throwing your food at
Jackson!”

“Yah, well, I just got sick and tired
of his shit.”
 

“Did
Dogety
save you?”
 
Hambin
asked.

“I guess so.
 
He’s never done THAT before.”
 

“Maybe he feels bad about the
pugil
boxing.”

“Well, he should.
 
That was miserable.”
 
Jan admitted.

“I thought you did fine.
 
I mean
,
I
wouldn’t want to go up against Wright either!”
 

“Thanks, but it was no contest
really.
 
I kind of gave up.”

“Well, I was cheering for you!”
 

“I thought I heard one fan in the
crowd!”
 
Jan smiled at him.

“You didn’t do any worse than some
others.”
 
Hambin
said.

“Thanks, I’m just glad it’s over.”

“That makes two of us!”

Andrew
Hambin
,
called Drew by friends and family, grew up on a farm in Oklahoma.
 
Beautiful would be an understatement for
Drew
Hambin
.
 
He was model gorgeous, stunning actually, at about five feet eight
inches tall with blonde hair and blue eyes.
 
Jan mostly noticed his long
fingers.
 
She wondered how he could
be both gorgeous and nice.
 
Those
qualities usually didn’t go together in most men, Jan believed.
 
But there they were in Drew
Hambin
, an enormously handsome AND kind young man.
 
He even agreed that
Dogety
and Jackson seemed to take a particular interest in hazing Jan.
 
Then she knew that it wasn’t
all in her head.

The Land Navigation Course was the
final challenge of Lake Frederick week.
 
Armed with a compass and a map, the new cadets had to find ten stamps
matching the ones on their checklist.
 
At least fifty different stamps had been set across the thousand or so
acres of wilderness surrounding Lake Frederick.
 
Once all ten stamps were found, the new
cadet could then proceed to the finish point.
 
Cadets had two hours to complete this
challenge.

Jan found herself alone for the first
time in seven weeks.
 
She slowed
down to enjoy the quiet of the forest and the precious moments of solitude.

“What do you think you’re doing,
Wishart
?
 
This
isn’t some nature walk!!”
 
Jackson
seemed to sneak up on her, again.

Where’d
he come from?
 
“Yes, Sir.”

“Have you found all your stamps yet?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then why are you bird-watching?
 
Do you think the stamps will find you?”

“No, Sir.”

“
Wishart
,
did you think you could just blow off this last challenge?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then get your ass moving and find
the rest of your stamps,
Wishart
!
 
I want you double-timing this course!”

“Yes, Sir.”
 
Jan began jogging in boots, helmet,
rucksack and rifle.
 

Not satisfied, Jackson ran behind her
and screamed, “PICK UP THE PACE, WISHART!”
 
She felt him on her heels right before he shoved her forward.
 
The force of his push knocked her onto
the ground.
 
The M-16 flew a few
feet ahead while her helmet dropped down over her eyes.
  

Jan assessed the situation: she was
on her knees in the middle of the woods with Jackson standing over her.
 
Shit.
 
But this time, she didn’t feel
afraid.
 
She wasn’t the least bit
scared.
 
Nope.
 
Only pissed off.
 
Goddamn angry.

She stood up slowly.
 
Even more slowly and dramatically, she
turned around to face Jackson.
 
If
he thought she was about to lose it, he would have made a good assumption.
 
She stared at him for a few long
seconds, gathering her rage, reining it in.
 
Then calmly, with complete control, she
said, “Jackson, if you ever touch me again, I will make sure you regret it for
a very, very long time.”

Jackson stood still.
 
He seemed unsure of what to do.
 
Then, as if clearing an image, he shook
his head and seethed, “If you ever try to humiliate me again,
Wishart
, YOU will regret it.
 
I promise you that!”

Neither one moved.
 
They were locked in a staring trance for
another long moment until Jan bent down and picked up her M-16.
 
Then turning her back on Jackson, she
walked away, realizing the power of anger.

11

Friday,
May 7, 1982

0800 Hours

Cadet Trane held the door for Jan as
they entered room 413 of Mahan Hall.
 
When’s the last time THAT
happened??
 
She wondered if she
would ever meet another man like Trane and secretly hoped he
would
fail his final exams.
 
Maybe
then he’ll have to repeat
firstie
year and I could
snag him while Cadet Williams is stationed in Korea.

Everyone sat in the same seats.
 
Cadet Trane took the chair to Jan’s
right, closest to the witness.
 
She
heard Jackson say “Morning, Bill.” She saw Trane nod in return without saying
anything.
 
She hoped that meant he
didn’t like Jackson either.

Conrad opened his thick file and
cleared his throat.
 
“Welcome back,
everyone.
 
We have a lot to get to
today and I want to keep on track as much as possible.
 
Because final exams begin Monday, I hope
to finish by today or tomorrow at the latest.
 
We will continue to be thorough in all
we do, of course.”

Of
course you will.

“So at this point, Cadet
Wishart
may now question Cadet Jackson,” Conrad said as he
waved his hand in Jan’s direction.

Jan knew Jackson would not betray his
own testimony.
 
She couldn’t expect
him to change his story, even if confronted with her version of events.
 
Yet she decided she would highlight some
of the discrepancies in their statements.
 
Maybe she could draw him out, even a little, from what he said happened.
 
She also wanted him to verify, confirm
and solidify other parts of his statement—in hopes that it could be
contradicted later.

She turned to face Jackson although
it hurt her eyes to look at him.
 
“Cadet Jackson, you stated that I had the routing envelope at all times
between Cadet
Dogety’s
room and yours.”

“Yes, you said as much yourself,”
Jackson said.

“You also admitted that you were in
the latrine during my last trip to your room when I left the routing envelope
leaning against your door where you found it.”

“Yes, that’s right, but it could not
have been there for more than two minutes.
 
I only took a leak, Miss
Wishart
, not a
dump.”
 
A few chuckles punctuated
the room.

They
think this is funny.
 
“But you
have to admit, Cadet Jackson, that the routing envelope was unattended for a
time when it was not in my possession.”
 

“Yes, like I said, I doubt anyone
could have changed its contents in the minute or two it sat at my door—or
that anyone else would have a reason to change its contents.”

“Except if someone really wanted to
mess with me
,
 
they
could have done it at that time, right Cadet Jackson?
 
If someone wanted, let’s say, to teach
me a lesson, to get me in trouble, or to make me look insubordinate?”
 

“Cadet
Wishart
,
if you are insinuating that I had something to do with writing that note, just
to get you in trouble, you are going down the wrong rabbit trail.”
 

“I simply want to verify that the
envelope was out of my possession for a time before it was in your possession,”
she clarified.

He said, “Yes, for probably no more
than two minutes.”

“And then, when you found the
envelope, how long was it before you brought it to Cadet
Dogety’s
room?”

“I took it over right away…maybe
about 2045 hours.”
 

“Did anyone else see or touch the
envelope in that time between your room and Cadet
Dogety’s
room?” she asked.

“No, just me.”

“Okay, so just to be clear, you had
the envelope for approximately fifteen minutes after it left my possession and
before Cadet
Dogety
saw it.”
 

“About that, yes.
 
But I didn’t write that note
Wishart
, and you know it.”
 

“I just want to clarify that the
envelope was NOT ALWAYS in my possession that night.”
 
She looked over at the
jury of her peers.
 
Their expressions gave nothing away.

“Okay,
Wishart
,
it was in my possession while I walked it over to Cadet
Dogety’s
room.
 
Happy?”
 

“And when you and
Dogety
questioned me in the CQ room,” Jan continued, “
would
you say the tone was ‘conversational’ or ‘adversarial?’”
 

“When was the last time any
firstie
was ‘conversational’ with you?
 
Despite being this close to Recognition,
most
firsties
are still not ‘conversational’ with
plebes.”
 
He raised his voice
slightly.

That’s
it, Jackson.
 
Show your anger.
 
“Exactly, Cadet Jackson,” she
refused to call him Sir.
 
“So you
would characterize the CQ room questioning as adversarial?”

“We questioned you the way
firsties
question plebes.
 
Is that what you mean?”
 

“Yes, you had me standing at
attention against the wall and screaming at me about two inches from my face,
correct?”
 
This was not unusual
plebe/upperclassman interaction, but she wanted the Honor Board members to
picture it.

“We were angry with you.
 
You screwed up AGAIN.
 
So, yes, we had you in the smack
position which was appropriate given the circumstances.”

“Okay, but only
you
screamed in my face, right?
 
Cadet
Dogety
did not scream at me in the CQ room.
 
In fact, Cadet
Dogety
asked you to calm down,
didn’t he?”
 

“I don’t recall that.”
 

“You don’t remember screaming in my
face or you don’t remember Cadet
Dogety
asking you to
calm down?”
 

“I recall screaming at you, maybe in
your face, as you put it.
 
But I
don’t recall that Cadet
Dogety
didn’t do the same, or
if he asked me to calm down.”
 

“He asked you to calm down or quiet
down at least three times.
 
You
don’t remember any of that?”
 

“No, I don’t recall that.”
 

“One last thing, Cadet Jackson.
 
When I came to your room at 0515 hours,
you were still in bed, correct?”
 

“I was sitting on my bed, yes. You
were late, remember?”

“Yes, I was late, but you were still
lying
in bed when I arrived.
  
Do you not remember that
either?”
 

“I DO remember that, Miss
Wishart
.
 
I was
sitting up and waiting for you to arrive.”
  

That was the crux of the
problem.
 
Jan’s version and his
version of that morning were entirely different.
 
And no one else witnessed what really
happened.

Cadet Trane slid a piece of paper in
front of Jan.
 
She read his
handwriting which
was not at all easy to do.
 
That’s
enough for now.
 
You will piss
everyone off if you keep pushing him.

“That’s all I have, Sir,” Jan stated
as she looked directly at Cadet Conrad.