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The Colonel’s Daughter

Henri Colt

    The pudgy-face, middle-age camp leader dropped a canvas tent bag at my feet and shook his finger in my face. “The girl is off-limits,” he said. “Her father is a high-rank VIP, you got it?”
    “Yes, Sir.” I stood up straight and nodded.
    “She will be staying with us until he is back from Iraq,” he said. “Maybe a couple of days.” She, he explained, was the only child of a US fighter pilot.
    I threw the heavy bag over my shoulder. “I’ll get her tucked in, no problem, Sir.” I was there to help set up camp for military kids before starting summer school, not to babysit some colonel’s daughter.
    I pitched the tent on a wooden platform near the gravel-covered kitchen space our cook called a mess hall. He was a tough ex-Army Ranger, but he helped me make the place nice. We cleared a path across the gravel and lined it with flowers planted in a row of combat helmets. Then we built a wooden A-frame and hung a tarp over it. I filled a three-gallon plastic jug with water and slung it upside down from the top.
    “There you go,” I said when Miss VIP walked over. “There’s no hot water, but at least you can shower without stripping in front of a bunch of kids.”
    “Great,” she said, with an edge in her voice. She was cute, lean, and lanky like a tomboy. She wore khaki cargo pants, with a light brown tight-fitting hiking shirt tucked-in. A nylon-web belt kept the pants up around her waist, and a camouflage-patterned buff covered her forehead like a bandana, leaving a handful of wavy brown locks over her shoulders.
    Seattle grunge played from a loudspeaker in the kitchen area. I checked to see that my boss was gone.
    “Do you need help with anything?” I said.
    She opened the tent flaps and dropped her duffel bag inside. “How about setting up my cot?”
    I unfolded the cot and sat down. She began unpacking her sleeping bag.
    “The bag will fluff up more if you leave it out to air,” I said.
    “Yeah, I know.”
    “My boss says I’m not supposed to talk with you.”
    She rolled her eyes. “The man’s just following my dad’s instructions.”
    “Sounds protective.”
    “My father has been uptight since my mother died. He forgets I’m eighteen.”
    I leaned forward. “Sorry about your mom. Mine died when I was a kid.”
    “I’m Jamie.”
    I told her my name and how I was going to summer school before leaving for the Air Force Academy. Jamie kneeled on the floor and pulled hiking gear out of her bag. “My mom was a flight nurse before she got sick. She hated that my dad flies combat, but, he’s Air Force too, you know?” Then she threw off her bandana. “Agh,” she said, pulling a comb from her back pocket. She spent a minute easing the knots from her hair.
    “The cook is making chili and rice for dinner,” I said.
    Jamie rolled her eyes again. “It’s probably that dehydrated slop they serve in the army, right?”
    “It actually tastes pretty good.”
    “Will he give me a beer?”
    “If you promise you won’t tell anyone—he likes breaking the rules.”
    She stopped fussing with her hair. Her eyes widened. “What rules?”
    “Yesterday he threw a rake at some kid who walked across the kitchen area. He treats the place like it’s his castle.”
    “What happened?”
    “Nothing. He said he would kill anyone who complained.”
    Jamie shrugged. “He must be a Ranger.” Her hazel-brown eyes gleamed as she ran her tongue over her upper teeth. She pocketed her comb and uncapped a tube of lip balm. A sweet raspberry smell filled the air. I could almost taste it.
    I smiled and felt stupid.
    “Want some?” she said.
    Maybe she likes me, I thought. Our hands touched when I took the tube from her outstretched fingers. A black elephant-hair bracelet was wrapped around her wrist.
    “It’s real,” she said, dangling her forearm in front of my face. “My father gave it to me before he went off to kill people.”
    “Is it worth anything? I mean...”
    She got to her feet and handed me the bracelet. “The two knots stand for love and fertility.”
    Jeez, I thought, but I didn’t say anything.
    Black hole sun, won’t you come...Chris Cornell’s lyrics groaned from the loudspeaker.
    “I love that song.” Jamie waved her arms over her head with the rhythm. I had a tingling in my stomach. I was still watching her when the song ended.
    “I’m so hungry,” she said.
    “I’ll tell the cook.”
    “Will I see you later? Maybe we can talk.”
    I nodded and handed her the bracelet.
    “You can wear it for a while,” she said. She stuck her head outside the tent. “No boss in sight, it’s safe.”
    We shared a fist bump.
    I spoke with the cook, then walked a quarter mile through the woods to my campsite. I devoured a chocolate bar and fell asleep in my tent. It was dark when I woke, but I figured she was waiting, so I pocketed my headlamp and crawled out, taking care not to wake anyone. I followed the trail to Jamie’s tent and crouched in the shadows.
    Nothing like breaking the rules, I thought. Then I scratched the canvas. “It’s me.” I immediately felt foolish. Like, who else could it be?
     “It’s pretty late.” She sounded drowsy.
    I inched closer to the tent. “I’m really sorry. I dozed off.”
    “Wait, I’m putting on my shoes,” she whispered.
    Trouble is as trouble does. The truth is, I have no idea why Jamie wanted to see me, but I wanted to be near her. I took her hand, and we made our way silently up the trail, halting here and there in the dark to talk. I think she kissed me first.
    We reached a small clearing between two storage bins. I kicked away a few plastic bottles that were lying in the dirt.
    “You’re shivering,” I said.
    Jamie tucked her chin into her Navy-issue turtle neck sweater. Her back was against one of the bins. I leaned forward to trap her playfully between my arms.
    She clasped her hands behind my neck and smiled.
    “You’re beautiful,” I said. Wrapping her in my arms, I kissed her. I felt the plastic Fastex buckle of her nylon military belt when she pressed herself against me.
    My tongue ran over her lips. They tasted of raspberry.
    “Hmm, slow down,” she sighed. “This is nice.”
    We kissed again, but something rustled in the trees.
    Footsteps. My boss’s piggish silhouette towered before us. An intense light blinded me.
    “And what have we here?” he barked.
    “We’re not doing anything!”
    I was surprised by Jamie’s outburst. Then, I felt bad for her.
    The flashlight was still in my face. “Get back to your tents,” my boss said. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
    Jamie wiggled out from between my arms. We didn’t kiss or say good night. Only our hands touched when I tried to hold her. Maybe she squeezed my fingers — I know she did. She bolted down the trail ahead of me and escaped into her tent. I put my head down and trudged back to my campsite.
    It was six in the morning when I saw my boss staring at me through my open tent flaps. He was sitting on a plastic lounge chair, sipping his coffee, obviously waiting. I pulled my legs from my sleeping bag and rubbed my eyes.
    “You’re firing me,” I said, thinking I’d be lucky if old pig-face didn’t call the military police.
    “Your girlfriend has got some bad news coming,” he said.
    I shook my head. “She didn’t do anything.”
    The fat nose between his puffy, pink cheeks turned up as if he had pushed it against a windowpane. I felt him take my measure, and it was like knowing that someone has your life in their hands. Two guys wearing military dress uniforms and black armbands appeared at the trailhead thirty feet away. I blinked, and took a deep breath.
    “The colonel was killed in action last night,” my boss mumbled. “That’s why I came looking for her. When I found you two lovebirds, I decided to wait until morning.”
    “Jeez, does she know?”
    “Not yet,” he said, rising to greet the men in uniform.
    “Thanks, boss.” I pulled on some jeans and a tee-shirt. I couldn’t let Jamie hear the news alone.

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