First Sergeant joins you as you are standing outside of the chapel mulling over your options. First Sergeant follows the direction of your stare, and sees Mrs. Bradley. He gives you a little nudge and inclines his head in her direction. That’s all the confirmation you needed to convince you that you should take this opportunity to chat with Mrs. Bradley.
She continues to stand by the curb as you approach, it’s clear she’s waiting for a ride. You call her name, “Brenda?” and she turns to face you, startled. It takes a moment for recognition to sit it, then her face brightens. She seems genuinely happy to see you, which is odd since she has to know you consider her a faithless slut and would like nothing better in that instant than to punch her square in the throat and send her lover to jail. She goes to hug you, a gesture you skillfully and tactfully parry.
You make small talk with her, trying to elicit any useful information about Jody. You notice that when she talks, it seems like half her face doesn’t move. It was almost like she had a marble clenched in her left jaw. Her overall appearance is disheveled and unkempt, not at all what you remember from your contact with her in the past when she always seemed poised and well-put together. You wonder subconsciously if she’s high. Something is definitely wrong with this woman. You ask her if she’s waiting on someone.
“Yes, my new boyfriend,” she says, with a smile that is completely without either malice or shame. As if she hadn’t just attended the memorial ceremony for the husband she was cheating on with this boyfriend.
“Really? I’d just LOVE to meet him,” you say, with your best fake smile. “I’m sure First Sergeant would as well.”
“Yeah, OK, in fact here he is now,” she says. A small red older-model sportscar pulls up to the curb. You open the door for Mrs. Bradley and she climbs in. Holding the door open, you lean down into the passenger compartment so that you can get a good look at the driver, and he can get a good look at you. “Hi,” you say, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.” She looks over to the driver and says, “Gary, this is Captain Faith, one of the Army guys I was telling you about.” At the mention of your name, you expect to see… something. Some twinge of recognition, a flash of fear, some type of reaction. Instead, the driver reaches over and sticks out his hand. “Hey, great to meet you, Brenda has told me a lot about you. My name’s Gary.”
So, this is Jody. He doesn’t look anything like what you expected. You expected someone young and dumb, a bully who would probably pee his pants when you finally tracked him down. This guy doesn’t look like any of the above. This guy is probably in his early 30s, well dressed, seems intelligent enough and has a firm handshake. Moreover, he has a well-groomed goatee, something that you weren’t expecting someone in the Army to have.
“Your name’s Gary? Are you sure I shouldn’t call you… Jody?” you inquire accusingly.
Gary gives you a confused look. There’s a honk from behind the red sportscar. “Hey man, I’m holding up traffic,” Gary says. “Nice to have met you.”
“Yeah, you too, I’m sure we’ll meet again real soon.” You close the passenger-side door and the red sportscar disappears into traffic.
First Sergeant walks off as they drive away. “Sir, wasn’t that Jody? Why’d you let him go? We could have given him a summarized ass whipping right here on the spot, and probably could have got some Green Beanies to help hold him down.”
“I’m not sure… something’s not right here,” you reply. “I’m more confused now about this whole situation than when we were back in Iraq. We’re going to get something to eat, and then we’re going to see Jody’s chain of command and get this thing un-fucked.”