NaNoWriMo 2022

Jesus Looking Out of My Eyes

American Kingdom: Day 17

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He was just the same as Ted, except with more muscles and more attitude. He was trying to fix things with words.

Good. At least so far as saying sorry about a hundred times went. That wasn’t going to get him into my pants. He’d have to think of another way.

Like it would have been difficult.

“Nathan,” I said when he had stopped, we had arrived at the butts and he was looking at me wondering why I hadn’t turned off the engine, “what the fuck did you think was going to happen when you tried to rape an ex-Ranger?”

“I thought you wanted it.”

Well, you got that right. “Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know how you select your targets, but what this woman wants is respect and the chance to say yes or no. In fact, if your approach to romance is to start off rapey, my answer is always going to be no. As it should be for any woman, whether or not they have been taught self-defense by the best in the world.”

“Second-best.”

I shut off the engine and stalked off. “You, down in the trench where you tossed the box. I think half the cans landed down there anyways.”

He complied. Good boy.

I tossed down as many cans as I could find. There were a few had bounced over the trench onto the slope of the butts, beyond the target hoists. I jumped over Nathan and collected those as well. He was looking up at me as I went over and I wondered what he was thinking. Maybe I’d better walk back along the top.

Instead, I jumped down. “We’ve got more than twenty-four here,” he said.

“Good. Brownie points with Sergeant Hart, if he bothers to count.”

He looked at me over the box as we headed back to the vehicle. “Friends?”

“Team-mates. Let’s get this thing done.”

“What’s the mission; have you thought about that? They haven’t set an end date for this course.”

“Yeah, I heard that. That’s nuts. What are they looking for? That guy Oscar is never going to be much of a soldier and I’ll bet he wasn’t recruited for that anyway.”

“He’s okay. Got a brain on him.”

“Maybe he can figure all this out. Let’s keep our eyes and ears open, ok?”

“Your turn to drive,” I said when we got back to the Hummvee. “These things are fun. Happy days!”

Hazel admired my nude body in the showers. “You’re not the work of art you used to be, you know.”

I looked down at my bruises. “Yeah, I looked like a Rainbow Pride flag.”

“Oh,” she said, “I was going to ask if you’d punch my back a bit, but I don’t think I will now.”

“I don’t swing that way. If you want me to bang on your back, there’s one condition.”

She looked at me as I hunched my sore shoulders. “I do the same for you?’

“Yup. Your place or mine?”

“Mine is closer and we don’t have much time before evening quiet. Got to get dressed for dinner as well.”

We dried ourselves off, wrapped towels around, scooped up our camos and boots and went back.

She lowered her towel down to her hips and lay face down on her rack. “Me first, because I asked, mmmkay?”

I drew the curtain before I dropped my towel. Her bunk was an awkward height and I had to bend over to work on her back. My breasts were getting in the way, swinging to and fro as I used the sides of my hands to chop at her knotted muscles.

I switched to firm, probing strokes, pressing with my fingers to find and ease the hard knots. She winced when I found them and moaned happily as I eased their tension.

“Molly, you’re good,” she sighed.

“Yeah, keep telling me that. I’d do a better job on a proper massage table with a bit of oil.”

I thought back to Ted and I soothing each other after a long day in the saddle. Somehow the massages had always turned into relief in another way but for now I resolutely moved my mind away from that direction.

After a while, Hazel was done. Any more and I’d have her so relaxed she was asleep. I gave her a soft slap on the shoulder. She turned her head on the pillow and looked at me.

“Eyes up here, Hazel. Just give me five minutes. Go hard to start with.”

I spread my towel over the second bunk, lay down on it and closed my eyes. She started with soft punches on my shoulders.

“Harder,” I said.

She went harder and I moaned as the tension started to break up. She increased her pace and I could hear the slap-slap-slap as her boobs swung back and forth out of synch with her hands. I giggled.

“Put your bra on, Hazel. It’s easier that way.”

She did, breaking contact for a few seconds before beginning again. “See?”

“We didn’t think this through, hey?”

“We’ll be a well-oiled team next time.”

Her turn to giggle. “You, be quiet. And relax. You’re stiff as a board.”

Hazel had a different technique but the effect was the same. I could feel the tension easing as she methodically moved her hands across my back. I could take a fair bit of this. Just leave me here for quiet time and wake me for dinner.

Instead, Hazel gave me a firm slap on my rear end.

“You were snoring,” she said. “We need to get dressed for the quiet. Come back here for reading.”

“Okay.”

I quickly got dressed in my evening uniform, picked up my Bible and returned to Hazel’s room.

“Come on,” she said. “There’s a bench down by the flowers. We can read while the light lasts and then pray.”

“Are there mosquitoes here?”

“Got some spray in my pocket if you really must. I was hoping you’d be bait and they’d leave me alone.”

“You’re not just a pretty face, Hazel. That’s good tactical thinking.”

We sat down on the bench. For a pseudo-military camp, this place was really quite nice. Neat and trim — as you’d expect — but with flower beds and glades and careful vistas of trees and rolling hills.

“So nice out here. Closer to the Lord. You ever been in one of those old European cathedrals, Molly?”

“I have, and some wonderful mosques and temples.”

“Hmmm.”

“Those places are built to inspire divine thoughts. You know the Italians call their cathedrals “Doumo” because that means “home”. Home of God.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

The chime marking the start of quiet rang and we opened our Bibles.

“Keep going?”

“No,” Hazel said, “It’s the Passion, and I’m not ready for that.”

“Did you ever hear Saint Matthew Passion? By Bach?”

She nodded no.

“I did, once. In Frankfurt after they patched me up and I had a bit of leave. Oh, Hazel, it was magnificent, sitting there in that glorious cathedral. I don’t speak German but I didn’t need to. I felt that I was lifted up.”

“One day. I just don’t feel like the passion is right when we are using all these guns and being soldiers. I feel like the Romans casting lots for the clothing of the Lord and that’s wrong. I want to talk about this morning.”

“On the range?”

“No. Aren’t you listening to me?”

She sat in silence for a minute. I looked out at the clouds turning pink in the rays of the setting sun.

“I’m sorry, Hazel. We were talking about the King looking into our hearts.”

“I’ve been thinking about that all day. I didn’t really have my heart on all those rifles and things.”

I had. It had brought me back to younger, more exciting days.

“Molly, I don’t think our Heavenly King lives up in the clouds or in a temple or cathedral.”

“Of course. He’s everywhere.”

“Yes, think about that. He’s not looking into our hearts. He is in our hearts.”

I thought about that. I mean, this was stuff we were told in Sunday School but after a while it was just something you took for granted.

Jesus in my heart. I held my finger on my pulse and felt the connection.

“Molly, this means he isn’t up in Heaven looking down and listening to eight billion thoughts all at once. He’s sharing your mind, listening personally, looking out through your eyes, feeling every emotion. It’s real, Molly. It has to be.”

The Dear Lord would have to put up with a lot of crap from me, I thought. I could hear him tut-tutting.

“Looking out through your eyes too, Hazel.”

I looked at her, looked into her eyes, looking at Jesus looking back.

Hazel colored up a little. “I hope he’s broad-minded.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that, Hazel, except maybe do our best to be as pleasant as we can be.”

“Mmmmm. I’m no saint. Neither are you, I think.”

Well, you got that right. Please forgive me, Lord. I’m only human.

“When we meet another person, Molly, we are meeting Jesus. It must be true.”

“Hang on.”

Hazel looked down at her Bible, opened to a blue ribbon.

“ ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”

“I need to pray now, Hazel. Is that okay with you.”

She nodded and we bent our heads, acknowledging our King, sharing our bodies and minds and hearts in His beautiful Creation.

Next chapter:

The whole story (NaNoWriMo novel in progress)

Notes

I’m playing a recording of Bach’s St Matthew Passion as I write. I doubt my profane words can match the sacred heights of Bach’s masterpiece but maybe they will lift me up.

I like this chapter. Three interconnected vignettes, each pushing the story forward in a different way. Molly’s relationships with Nathan, Hazel, and the Lord.

Molly