Challenges, Choices, and Burns
“I thought you said this wasn’t an important match?” I stared in blank disbelief at the information Morley had handed me.
The sergeant had the grace to look embarrassed. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured into competing, sir.”
I couldn’t really be angry with him. Asking me to be part of the team had been a last resort and then he’d found out I was injured, and my shooting arm at that. It must have been hard to appear as nonchalant as he had.
I began reading the sheets with the details of the shoot. It was to be held at the Academy, which I was grateful for as it meant I’d be close to the base if I was needed. I ran my eye down the list of competitors – interservice teams from all over the country – and gave Morley another look. He must have rightly interpreted it as accusing because he squirmed a little in his seat.
“If you don’t want to shoot, I’d understand.”
I shook my head. “No. I have no problem shooting, but you do have to understand that I won’t be able to compete at the same standard as usual. Given that this is an important competition you may want to find someone else.”
He shook his head in return. “I’ll be honest, sir, if it was any other competition I’d withdraw the team, but if we don’t place in this we won’t get into the finals at Camp Robinson. There is no one else, General. You’re it.”
“No pressure, Morley?”
He gave a small smile “No pressure at all, sir.”
***********
“What’s up?”
I tore my attention away from the vital business of twirling my beer bottle cap on the tabletop. “Why? What makes you think anything is up?” I spun the cap again.
Daniel’s hand darted out, snagging it as it started on its eccentric path towards him.
“Hey! I was…”
“What, Jack? Not listening to a word I said?”
“No,” I protested vehemently. “I was finding your little talk on the Canaanite culture fascinating.” And I had been, up to a point. Like after the first five minutes. After all, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know about the ancestors of the Phoenicians, but I couldn’t muster the same enthusiasm he seemed to have for the subject.
Daniel gave me a disbelieving look. “Come on – what’s the problem. You’ve obviously got something on your mind. You’ve been like this since we left the base.”
I found myself looking around for something else to fiddle with, but finding nothing, contented myself with taking a sip of beer. The silence stretched and I knew he wasn’t going to let it go.
“It’s this.” I gestured to my still sling held arm.
“Hurting?”
“No.” I qualified my answer. “Well, yes – it is, but that isn’t the problem.”
“So what is?”
I glanced around, seeing no one near us, but lowered my voice anyway. I had no idea why – some sort of defence mechanism because I didn’t want to expose my private life to the world – who knew. “I’m shooting in an interforces competition in three days time.”
“You’re what?” He leaned forwarded, looking confused as if he expected a punchline.
“I’m shooting in a competition.”
His eyes got wide and he looked at me as if I had taken leave of my senses.
Maybe I had.
“Jack, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re right handed.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence, Daniel.” I couldn’t help resorting to sarcasm.
“No, really – what possessed you?”
I gave him the only answer I could. “The team needed me.” I saw him about to comment, then stop as if he was considering my words. What he did next surprised me more than anything over the last few days. He nodded.
“Okay.”
“So you don’t think I’m crazy?”
He smiled, moving to pick his jacket off the bar stool next to him. “I didn’t say that, but you’re you and nothing I say will change that. The team needs you - I do understand.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do, Jack. After all these years you really need to ask?” He shrugged one arm into the jacket as I drank the last mouthfuls of my beer and stood. “I just have one question.”
“And it is?”
“Where is this competition being held? There is no way I’m going to miss this.”
**********
Yet another meeting at Peterson. I knew they were an essential part of any senior officer’s schedule – heaven knows, I had attended enough of them as a Colonel – but deep down inside I resented the time spent away from my base and my people.
Glancing at my wristwatch I realised there wasn’t any point going back to the Mountain, so I yanked my cell from my jacket pocket and gave Walter the sad news that I was heading home early for once.
My driver was ready and waiting, yet another annoyance in a long list that seemed to be growing by the hour. I wanted my own car and the freedom to go wherever I pleased without someone taking note of my every movement, but ridiculous though it seemed, I couldn’t drive even though I was well enough to be shooting a deadly weapon while watched by a crowd of spectators the day after tomorrow.
Staff weapon burns are notoriously bad at healing and mine wasn’t an exception. It still looked like undercooked meat every time the dressing was changed, and the slightest bump rated very highly on my personal pain scale.
So, I had to have a driver.
I climbed into the car, managing to avoid the young airman’s solicitous helping hand. I wasn’t a cripple here. One damaged wing wasn’t enough to keep an O’Neill down.
We were already most of the way to my house when I decided to make a side trip. The date had finally registered with me while in the meeting – it was two years tomorrow since my promotion to General. Last year I’d gotten back from my Aunt’s funeral and arranged for my friends to come over for a little impromptu get-together.
Why not make it a tradition?
Seemed like as good an excuse as any to have a party.
Sweet.
I called Colonel Carter and organised for her to contact the others, plus anyone else she thought might be appropriate, and ordered the car to the nearest mall for supplies.
I don’t think Airman Hatch expected to be going grocery shopping with the general when he was given his assignment, but there was no way I could carry shopping or push trolleys around, so he was it. Carefully avoiding the curious looks we attracted, I shepherded him around the supermarket, pointing out the items I needed as he added them to the cart.
It was as I gestured to the salad dressing that I realised having Hatch with me might have made the shopping easier but it was costing me a small fortune. My cart was filled with the most expensive brands in the store. I was subconsciously trying to live up to my status as a general by not being seen as ‘cheap’. I couldn’t help laughing at myself.
“Sir?”
“Doesn’t this strike you as amusing, Airman?”
He knew exactly what I was talking about. “No, sir.” His gaze shifted upwards and to the right and I knew he was lying.
I nodded, smiling. “Uh huh.”
His lips twitched. He was probably already picturing himself telling the tale of the general’s shopping trip to his friends when he got back to base. I couldn’t blame him.
Might as well give him something more exciting to talk about than my choice of bread. Looking around, I pointed to a pair of sheer black stockings, and saw the look of surprise that briefly flashed across his face before his training took over and he grabbed them, putting them on top of a box of cereal.
I could always give them to Carter.
We were at the checkout when I spotted Sara two rows over. For a few minutes I just stood there, inching forwarded, watching.
She had a small basket with just a few items in it and was moving a lot faster than I was.
Wondering why I was hesitating, I made a quick decision. “I’ll be back.”
I was off before Hatch could tear his vacant gaze from the front covers of the magazines on the racks and caught up with her just as she finished paying.
“Hey there.”
She stuffed her wallet into her handbag and looked up, startled.
“Jack! What are you doing here?”
I admit – the first thing that went through me mind was 'D’uh!', but I confined myself to a smile and a vague comment about shopping.
I glanced across to see Hatch was next at the checkout, my groceries already loaded onto the checkout counter.
“Could you hold on a minute, Sara? I’ve got to pay.”
She followed the direction of my gaze and raised her eyebrows in an obvious show of amazement. “A little young for you, isn’t he, Jack?”
“Very funny, not!” I laughed, but inside I was deeply annoyed. My ex-wife knew exactly which buttons to push to get a reaction and I wasn’t going to bite.
The transaction completed, I gave Hatch my keys, telling him to pack the groceries into the car and meet me at the liquor store, then turned back to the waiting woman.
“General?” Her eyes roamed over my uniform, taking in the stars on the shoulders. “When did that happen?”
“A couple of years ago.” I waited while she picked up the single plastic bag, not offering to help, any thoughts of chivalry having left when the stiffness from my injury made itself felt once again.
“And the arm?”
“Just a burn. Nothing serious.”
We lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
This was ridiculous. I’d lived with this woman for years, had a child with her, and now we couldn’t hold a conversation?
“How’s your Dad?”
She gave me a tight smile, and began walking, heading for the exit. I followed, easily keeping up with her slow pace.
“He’s okay. He moved to Florida a few months ago – loves it there. He says the weather is much better for his arthritis.”
A young child ran past us, his mother in hot pursuit, and I caught Sara’s eye, recognising the wistful look as her gaze followed the pair. I had a flash of memory of our own son needing to be constantly watched at that age.
We looked away, each caught for a moment in the other’s sorrow.
“You’re looking good, Jack.”
I was grateful to return to less emotional territory, so I grinned, pleased at the compliment. “It’s just the uniform. Remember how you used to say that even a monkey could look good in it.”
She smiled a little broader this time. “I remember.”
Sara wasn’t looking too bad herself, although she had put on a little weight and the lines around her eyes were more pronounced than the last time I’d seen her. Not that I’d had much time to take in more than a brief impression in the chaos of everything that happened with the crystal being. I’d promised I would explain it all, how our dead son had walked out of that room with me, but I never had. It had been too difficult, and I have to admit that I had avoided the issue, wanting to just forget the whole thing.
“I’ve got a new job.”
Her statement broke into my thoughts, and I paused. “That’s great. Doing what?”
“I’m working for a publishing company in New York. Been there about three months now. I’m really enjoying it”
I was pleased for her. We had both drifted, lost for a while after Charlie’s death, but it seemed we had each found a direction for our lives again. I knew Sara had rented out our old home a couple of years ago and moved into an apartment. She had phoned me, explaining she needed a fresh start, and I’d agreed. The idea of keeping Charlie’s room as some sort of memorial to him was abhorrent to both of us. For a while we had needed it, needed to feel close to him, but as time passed I knew that Charlie was more alive in my memory and my heart than he was in inanimate objects, and I think Sara had come to feel the same. She sent me a few of his things, kept some for herself, and with my blessing, had given the rest to charity for other children to use.
The parking lot was full. Sara gestured towards the far side. “I’m parked over there.”
“Where are you staying?” I continued to walk beside her, between the rows of cars.
“With Angela Brown. She’s going to be a grandmother soon, you know. I needed to arrange the shipping of some more of my things so she offered to put me up.”
Angela was going to be a grandmother! That didn’t seem possible – our old neighbour was only a few years older than Sara. But then we weren’t getting any younger either. Sara halted next to a sporty little yellow convertible, putting her shopping bag down at her feet to retrieve her keys from her handbag.
“Sweet.” I stepped back a few paces, looking at its sleek lines. It was a far cry from the practical family sedan she used to drive when we were married. But then Sara wasn’t the same woman I’d married either.
She slid the bag into the front passenger seat, and turned, startling me by reaching up to give me a swift peck on the cheek.
“It’s been good to see you, Jack.” She smiled at me as she put her sunglasses on.
“Same here, Sara. Keep in touch.”
For a second I thought of inviting her to the party, but the words died on my lips as she pulled out, waving me farewell. We were leading two completely separate lives now, the only thing we still had in common being memories, and pleasant though it had been to catch up, the pleasure was tinged with the bitter taste of sadness and heartbreak.
I turned away.
Airman Hatch was probably wondering where I’d gotten to, so back across the parking lot I walked, half of my mind on watching where I was going, and the other half on the woman who had just driven away.
Sure enough, the airman was standing, looking rather conspicuous in his uniform, just outside the door to the liquor store. He straightened up as soon as he saw me, looking rather relieved.
I waved him toward the entrance. “Come on, son, let’s get the important part of the shopping done.”
**********
The party was in full swing. There weren’t many there, but they were all people without whom I would have had a much harder time surviving the stresses of running the SGC. Reynolds, Siler, Ferretti, Carter, Dixon, Walter – they were all present, relaxed and enjoying themselves. Daniel was keeping the bowls of chips and nuts filled, the more substantial food having been finished very quickly by the hungry hordes. Teal’c had charge of the drinks – I could be sure he would ensure no one drank too much with most being on duty the next day.
As for me, despite rumours to the contrary I took my responsibilities very seriously.
Besides – I was still on medication for my injury.
I sipped my ice cold lemonade and surveyed the scene. There were a couple of unexpected guests. Doctors Felger and Lee were having a lively argument over near the fireplace – something about chaos theory and time travel, but I tuned them out, deciding that Carter must have invited them just to annoy me.
I sank into my favourite chair, happy to not be the focus of attention for once. The opportunities to relax like this had been few and far between these last two years and I appreciated them all the more for their rarity. So much for promotion turning me into a desk jockey. At times I almost wished I could sit at my desk more often and just deal with the day to day running of the base instead of constantly fighting opponents both off world and on our own planet.
Still, despite the stress and almost daily challenges, I was surprisingly happy doing what I was doing. Being in charge wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Two years and counting and only now I'm realising that experience is something you don't get until just after you need it. Year three was coming, and as I sipped at my drink, I idly wondered what it would bring with it.
I certainly didn’t know, but it was going to be fun finding out.
The End
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Challenges, Choices, and Burns – General Jack Year 2 Part 17
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This is the final part of General Jack Year 2. General Jack's story is continued in General Jack Year 3.Site Navigation
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