The Drumhead Read online

  “You can’t let them kill you like this.” Molly didn’t want to drag her sister into a fight she didn’t want. But, it was breaking Molly’s heart to hear Maggie like this. Maggie had always been the strong one. The one who listened to her rant about the boys who broke her heart. Maggie, the girl who always picked a fight with the school bully and then took the suspension with pride.

  “Okay,” she whispered. Then, a deep breath was inhaled on Maggie’s side of the line. “Okay,” Maggie said more firmly. “What now?”

  “I talk to some people,” Molly explained. “You just get yourself back.”

  “Alright,” Molly heard her sister draw in another breath to clear her head. “Look, I hate to drop this all on you.”

  “Are you crazy?” Molly exclaimed. “You are my sister. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’ve got a meeting about this random violence stuff coming up.” Molly was already clearing her plate of appointments for her sister. She was going to be there. “Then, I’ll be back to you.”

  “Random violence?”

  “You haven’t heard?” The words were out of Molly’s mouth before she had a chance to think. Of course, she hasn’t. Maggie has bigger things right now than crazy assed events happening.

  “No…..”

  “Just random attacks out of nowhere.” Molly thought maybe talking about something else would help. “It seems to be happening almost everywhere. I have sources that are saying its’ in other countries as well.”

  “People shooting up movie theaters,” Maggie was trying to comprehend what she was hearing. “Stuff like that?”

  “No,” Molly shook her head while the phone stayed stationary in her hand. “Weird stuff. Like a guy walks up to this couple in a park and bites them.”

  “Whoa…”

  “Another guy attacked some people in the mall of the Americas in Minnesota.” Molly rhymed off the story from memory. “He takes about a hundred bullets before dying.”

  “You’re kidding,” Maggie listened and tried to imagine someone still a threat after one hundred bullets had hit them. What the fuck, was her final conclusion.

  “For that reason, they think it might be bad drugs on the streets, like meth or something.” Molly didn’t buy that conclusion. The violence was too widespread for that. “The people who are doing this look pretty messed up.”

  “Holy shit,”

  “A couple of cities already have curfews. Fox news is calling it Americas’ Worst Weekend of Violence.” Molly wryly concluded. “Look sis, don’t worry about any of this. I will get back to you, okay?”

  “Thanks, girl.” Maggie wished she could give her sister the biggest hug ever. Damn, she knew how to make things right. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Molly could feel the old Maggie coming back. The wounded animal was back on her feet. The old Maggie was being coaxed out of hiding to get better. “How many times have you had my back?”

  “Hey, we’re sisters. Blood is forever.” Maggie replied.

  “Remember that jerk who broke my heart in grade 11?” Molly could almost hear a smile on the other end of the phone creep over her sisters’ face. “You listened to me cry all night about it. Then what did you do?”

  “I poured a pound of sugar into his gas tank.” Maggie replied sheepishly.

  “Yes, you did.” Molly was laughing now. “Three weeks later his engine and shit is fucked up and his gas tank is leaking like a sieve.”

  “Nobody messes with my sister” Maggie stated.

  “…And nobody messes with mine,” Molly said seriously. “I love you. You are not alone.”

  Maggie talked for a few more minutes with Molly about how mom and dad were doing on their road trip to Florida. They said their goodbyes and Maggie placed the phone down carefully like a new-found talisman against the evils of the world. She drew a long careful breath through her nose and exhaled slowly. The room was incredibly quiet. Maggie was suddenly aware that every muscle in her body ached from tension. This would be a long road back.

  But, you’re not alone.

  The silence of the room betrayed a murmuring in the main barracks. It was subdued, in a tone that implied conspiracy. She couldn’t help but listen in.

  “….fucker is dead, fucker is so dead.” It took a minute but she recognized the voice to be Symons. My hero, she smiled. Even after all these years.

  “I feel just like you do, man.” Esterhaus. That had to be Esterhaus. “You’d think they’d charge the motherfucker. But, he’s just walking around like nothing’s happened.”

  “They don’t want this.” That was Voorhees. “The army never likes to admit this shit goes on. So they try and pretend it never happened.”

  “Anything like this ever happened to you?” Esterhaus posed the question. He must have gotten a look from Voorhees because he added: “Hey, sorry, If you don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “I had a Major come on to me once. Put his hands where they shouldn’t be,” Voorhees told her story.

  “What did you do?” Esterhaus again.

  “I went and had coffee with his wife.”

  “Boom.” Esterhaus exclaimed in a whisper.

  “You should have seen the look on the Major’s face when he came home.” She could hear the payback dripping from Brenda’s words. There was a pause, Voorhees spoke again: “You okay, Brett?”

  “I am gonna kill that motherfucker.” His words were intense. He meant it. “I am really gonna kill that motherfucker,”

  “You wanna help, Maggie?” Voorhees tone was direct and to the point. “Keep your ass from getting charged.”

  “So, we just sit around?” Symons sounded frustrated. It was rare for him to be so worked up. Canadians, even when they live in America they still stay cool. He had been born in Saskatchewan but his folks found work in Texas when he was twelve. Bret had drifted from job to job before finally enlisting to earn some cash. Symons told Maggie one night he wanted to build his own house from scratch. Then, he would raise a family and forget the world. The more life beats you up the simpler your dreams become, An anguished prayer to achieve something, anything. Maggie listened to the anger in his voice and worried he was about to do something very stupid.

  “We don’t sit around.” Voorhees kept her tone direct. “We take care of the LT.”

  “I just……” Symons raised his voice briefly before Esterhaus silenced him with something half between a word and a fast exhale of breath.

  “We’ll get our moment to get that guy,” Esterhaus was working hard to make his point. He sounded worried here that Symons was about to go postal. “We just gotta be cool and keep our noses clean.”

  “You realize that we are probably the only unit in this fucking army that feels this way about our CO?”Voorhees gave a small laugh. “How many times has she been there for us?”

  “I feel like she’s my fucking mom.” Esterhaus was probably remembering the time he had his divorce. Maggie had been there to listen. She held the punching bag in the gym with him when his ex-wife took the kids and let him work out his anger. Then Maggie listened to him talk for hours about the whole gut wrenching mess.

  Then, Maggie remembered telling him. “Whatever you do, think about the kids.”

  “Yeah,” Voorhees replied. “That’s my girl.”

  “Okay,” Symons’ voice was back to a whisper. “Okay, we play it cool.”

  Maggie was sitting crossed legged on the floor with her head bent low with one ear cocked to the door. She thought about her time with them. Right from the start, Maggie had decided that she would have an open door policy to their problems. Besides, in her experience the guys in the locker room always gave the worst advice and so did the girls. If something was eating away at one of her people she needed to know about it. They knew they could come in, close the door and talk. Go for a coffee and get someone to listen. No advice, just an ear that let them figure out their way to sensibility.

  She stood up and rea
lized how hungry she was. She lifted the cover on the food plate and picked up cold breakfast sausages, bacon and began to chew away. This animal had been coaxed out of hiding. The wounds were still there and might never heal. But, that was okay. There was a posse with this animal that had her back.

  “I’m not alone,” she whispered and believed it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  After all that Voorhees had preached, she was the first to find trouble. It had been a simple errand to the mall to get a few things and grab a coffee. Then, back into her jeep and head home. Yeah, simple.

  On her way to Starbucks she maneuvered around the usual inhabitants of a shopping mall. The moms who had those strollers that over the years seemed to have morphed into all terrain vehicles. The shuffling old men who walked the way they drove and mall rats with their faces buried in their phones, oblivious to potential collisions. It was like living a game of Mario Brothers.

  At first, it was a reflection in a window. Brenda’s eyes grew wide in recognition and she felt herself inhale fire. Major Alice Springs, standing in front of an electronics store watching CNN.

  A steady stream of names like St. Louis, Atlanta, New York, Dallas, Charlotte and others passed under two talking heads with the banner:

  CITIES UNDER MARTIAL LAW

  DAWN TO DUSK CURFEW IN EFFECT

  TERRORIST CONNECTION?

  Springs short brown hair had just been cut and she had slipped her larger than normal ass into a pair of new Levis. She was thin at the waist and the way she dressed the Major seemed to be very proud of her larger than normal breasts.

  When Brenda’s boyfriend had an accident and was on disability it was Maggie who found every excuse to get Voorhees to run errands off base so they could be together. Now, he was back at work and Brenda had a ring on her finger. Voorhees watched Springs take in the headlines and thought of Maggie lying in her bed trying to put the pieces of her life back in place that this woman had torn apart She didn’t mean to start walking toward her, it just felt like gravity was pulling her that way. Soundlessly, she walked passed Major Alice Springs and sent a hard elbow into her kidneys,

  “Watch your back, bitch.” Voorhees hissed as she heard Springs cry out in surprise and pain.

  On the stupid things to do scale of 1 to 10 it was a definite eleven. Voorhees headed out of the parking lot feeling the exaltation of the event and the dread of the consequences at the same time. What’s done is done. She thought as she merged into traffic on her way home. Brenda and her man had found a little place 20 minutes from the base near wooded farmland. What it lacked in size and location, it more than made up in country charm. Farms dotted her drive down dusty roads and trees stood on either side of the laneway like an eco-honor guard. They had been so lucky to find the place and even luckier that housing prices didn’t recover too fast out here after the 2008 crash.

  No matter what happens, Brenda concluded. I have the things that matter.

  She felt herself relax as sunlight danced through the tree branches while the jeep almost seemed to drive itself down the country road. She had a few things to cover at home tonight but that was for later. For now, she was all good.

  Lost in thought as the jeep drove on, Brenda could be forgiven for not seeing a lone figure moving along a fence line a few feet from the trees. His neck seemed to sit at a strange angle on his shoulders as he lurched in and out of the shadows of the tree line. As the jeep progressed down the road it suddenly became aware of the vehicle’s presence. The broken neck forced the thing to turn its’ whole body toward the now receding taillights. The mouth opened quickly and the teeth flashed. A hiss from a newly dead voice box mingled with the country sounds of cicadas, birds and rustling leaves.

  Maggie still had the perception that everyone was watching as she walked down the hallway toward General Fairchild’s office. It was that same strange feeling in those dreams you get when you show up to work naked. A sense of violation, vulnerability and defenselessness overcomes you. This is not a dream, her jaw tightened.

  She introduced herself to the secretary and Maggie swore the woman regarded her for a millisecond before asking her to take a seat. Oh, you’re the one. The secretary’s eyes betrayed her. Maggie returned the brief eye contact with a cold stare. She was still shaking inside, still felt like throwing up at a minute’s notice. But, she was not alone.

  “Lieutenant?” The secretary said properly. “You can go in now.”

  Without a word, Maggie stood up and walked into the General’s office. Her shoulders were hunched, arms tense and ready by her side. The perfect fighting stance and state of mind for taking on the world. She saluted at his door.

  “Lieutenant Maggie Hunter reporting as ordered, sir.” She was ramrod straight, eyes burning.

  “Close the door, Hunter.” Fairchild was sifting through papers at his desk. He was trying to act nonchalant and distracted. Maggie closed the door quietly and then the General’s tone became more focused. “Remain standing at attention, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes sir,” Maggie kept her voice emotionless.

  “Do you know anything about an incident between Private Voorhees and Major Springs?” He was seated at his desk, regarding her every move. His eyes looked hard for something that would betray the truth or her guilt.

  “No sir, I don’t.”

  “I have placed Voorhees under arrest for assaulting an officer,” As he spoke, Fairchild stood up from his desk and walked over to Maggie.

  “Were there any witnesses, sir?” Maggie fired off the words quickly.

  “No,” Fairchild now stood a foot away from Maggie. His six foot four frame towered over her. At first, she felt herself shrink away. But, that’s what they want. She thought. That’s what they want. Maggie could feel herself grow a few inches as the General continued. “I have a complete report from Major Springs on the incident.”

  “May I ask a question, sir?” Maggie kept her voice rigid.

  “Yes,” he replied, trying to stare her down.

  “Why did you not prosecute Major Murphy when I came to you?” She quickly raised her head and met his eyes with a burning rage. He blinked twice and his facial expression changed. Just enough surprise to get him off guard.

  “It’s …it’s your word against his. “ He briefly stuttered.

  “Yes sir,” Maggie leaned forward just an inch. It was enough to stay on the offensive but not enough to be called insubordinate. “Kind of like Springs and Voorhees.”

  He paused and caught his breath and glared down at Maggie. Caught you, Maggie’s eyes mocked him. He turned to walk back to the sanctuary of his desk, the symbol of his authority that might shield him.

  That whole situation is different.” He waved his hand in the air to dismiss the argument.

  “How is it different, sir?” Maggie stayed at attention. Only her eyes moved about the room,

  following her prey.

  “Lieutenant……..” Fairchild’s voice dropped a notch in warning.

  “How is it different, sir?” Maggie repeated. “If the General is too busy now to explain maybe I should come back later.”

  “You forget who you are talking to.” She could hear Fairchild grind his teeth. If he was mad now, Maggie thought. He’s gonna be ballistic in a minute or two.

  “How is it different, sir?” Maggie repeated the question. She was in this deep, time to go all the way. “I am asking the General to please tell me how these two incidents are different?”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything.” He growled.

  “Very well, sir.” She reset her eyes to straight ahead attention to prepare to drop the bomb.

  “Get out of my office,” His tone was dismissive.

  “Yes sir,” Maggie made no move for the door. It was show time. “But, I need to inform the General of a decision I have made.”

  “You’re going to resign?” His tone was sarcastic as he began to seat himself at his desk.

  “No sir, I am going public with my case.”
r />   It was like a soundless grenade had gone off in the office. The General froze and looked up at Maggie. His face was an appearance of absolute incomprehension. It was like she had suddenly started speaking a different language. Maggie almost cocked her head in a question mark as she watched his face. Maybe he did comprehend what she said. Maybe he was totally aware of everything she had just communicated and the weight of the media tornado this would become just landed on his desk.

  He’s afraid, Maggie realized.

  “You can’t do that,” he whispered with wide eyes.

  “Watch me, sir.” Maggie kept her eyes straight and her jaw firm.