David (1,002 words) - Writers Forum

RyeCatcher24 · 06-23-2008, 05:14 AM

Hey folks, just something that came to me. Hopefully it'll be enjoyed and you guys will have some interesting things to say.

David wasn’t what you’d call a big guy. Hell, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who’d call him average. He was a shrimp. At about five-foot-three, he was one-hundred twelve pounds of bone with skin stretched tight around it. So it looked especially one-sided when he walked up to Burt and started a fight. Big Ass Burt, (no one ever called him this to his face) was six-foot-two and easily two-hundred fifty pounds.

I’d love to lie and say that Dave got a few good hits in, that he showed Burt who was boss. I’d also love to say that as Dave got his ass kicked, I grew a pair and jumped in and helped him; that I really liked David enough to help him. The truth is that I didn’t like Dave; I was in awe of him and his fearlessness, but I despised him all the same. I despised him because I was weak and he was in control.

I watched in wonder and dread as Burt punched him so hard that he flew back almost five feet onto a bunch of trashcans. The clatter drew the attention of people on the street. People stopped what they were doing to see what the hell was going on. I’m convinced that this is the only thing that saved Dave that day. Burt had his leg raised, ready to stomp the life out of the little skeleton beneath him when he realized he had an audience. He brought his leg down slowly, looked around and walked away.

I crossed the street with a lump in my throat. His eyes were closed when I knelt beside him, and there was a sound coming out of his throat. “C’mon man, don’t cry”, I said to him. Then I realized he wasn’t crying.
He opened his eyes and yelled out, “Did you see that shit?!” He let out a big laugh and then a groan as his brain registered the pain of his cracked rib. “I fuckin’ flew man. Just like the movies.”

That was typical Dave. Pushing the limits; getting hurt, then laughing about it. He was fearless. We were fifteen years old then and the whole thing started with him saying, “Dude, you know what would be awesome?” Anyone, who has ever come into contact with David King, knows that if you hear that phrase; run. No good can come of it. We were seventeen when he said, “Dude, you know what would be awesome? We should join the army.”

Commence running in five, four, three, two... One never came. We enlisted on my eighteenth birthday. Nineteen months later I was sitting on some Afghan mountain sweating my ass off and I still don’t really know how it happened.

“Dude, we’re going on patrol. I put us on.”

Of course he did.

The patrol was rough going. It was hot as hell and we were going up some pretty steep inclines. We’d been huffing it for almost seven hours when the Sarge finally took pity on us and let us rest.

We set up on a ridge overlooking a valley. I’d just taken a sip from my canteen when it seemed like the rock behind me erupted with a thousand tiny explosions. It took me a second to realize that we were being shot at. We instinctively jumped behind the rocks for cover.

“We’ve got tango’s at eleven and three o’clock” the sergeant shouted. “Reynolds!” He was yelling at me. He pointed to my left, and shouted, “You and King get behind that rock and lay down suppressing fire.”

We maneuvered over to the rock and I got on my M-249 and let go on full automatic. Dave was taking careful shots with his M-4. Sand, rocks, and what I’m sure were bullets whizzed and danced around me. We had a pretty good vantage point since they were below us in the valley. I kept the enemies heads down with the rapid fire and they started moving their attention to rest of the squad.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Dave moving down closer to the valley. “What the hell are you doing?” I shouted.

“Dude, there’s a good position behind those stones down there. I can get the drop on ‘em and start takin’ ‘em out.”

Dude; if there was ever a word I despised more, I haven’t found it yet.

He started down to get into position. Off to my right the rest of the squad was dropping. At least four guys were down; impossible amounts of blood were pouring out of them. There were only two guys still shooting and they looked like they didn’t have much more ammo to keep up the fight. I became aware of shooting off to my left. David had taken up his spot and was picking the enemy off one by one. He let out a “whoop” with each kill. He was enjoying himself. Off to my right another soldier fell and it was looking pretty grim.

I got back on the machine gun and started spraying. Before long there was no more return fire. Dave got up and started walking back toward me. I looked over to my right and saw that the squad was down. They were alive; barely.

The bullet that caught Dave hit him full on in the chest. It picked him up and flung him a good distance. It tore through the first couple of layers of his armor, but only accomplished knocking the wind out of him. The ground must have seemed angry to him as bullets kicked up sand all around him.

I don’t remember pulling the trigger. I only remember the click; the click of the gun running out of ammo. I remember Dave staring at me. His eyes locked on me with a mixture of disbelief and for the first time, fear as I looked down the gunsights at him; smoke coming off the barrel. What I remember most of all, though, is laughing. I laughed until my stomach hurt. I didn’t stop until the chopper came.

David didn’t laugh.

The Backward OX · 06-23-2008, 06:57 AM

It’s hard to decide whether to call it lack of realism/believability in Afghanistan or not. You’re old enough that you might have been there. But I have no direct knowledge myself. Only these rumours I keep hearing that American grunts are pretty well useless at fighting an enemy. So maybe the Taliban could have wiped out an entire squad.

If I’m wrong and your soldiers are as good as ours, well then in that case you’ve fucked up big time. Why not write something believable?

With that confusion dealt with, I am still uncertain about the ending. In one paragraph you have no more return fire, in the next bullets kicking up sand everywhere. And who shot David? Was it a stray Taliban member or our hero? What caused the disbelief and fear? Sorry. It’s all too much of a mish-mash for me.

PinkFloydian21 · 06-23-2008, 09:28 AM

I agree with Ox. The ending was a little awkward. I didn't know if the narrator shot, or if it was friendly fire, or if it was the enemy. I liked the story, though, and I couldn't help but hear Marlon Brando's voice narrating this, like in Apocalypse Now.

If you fixed the ending a bit, maybe told us why the fire returned (did the enemy cease fire on purpose and then start again? Did he get shot by friendlies? Did the narrator shoot him, and if so, why?) it would be an excellent read. I'd love to read it again if you make some changes to the ending.

I remember those days... "Dude, wouldn't it be sweet if...?" Yeah, I've had my share of those days.

RyeCatcher24 · 06-23-2008, 02:57 PM

First of all, thanks for reading and commenting guys. I really appreciate it.

Ox- The firefight in the story is somewhat based on an actual event. It's a mxture of the experiences my brother and I had in the military. My older brother was in a Marine Reserve unit that was ambushed while on patrol. There was only one casualty. I have to admit, I added more casualties because I wanted it to come down to the narrator and David. This might have taken away from the believability and for that I apologize.

I edited the ending slightly to hopefully make it a little more clear that the narrator shot David. David is supposed to be both real and metaphorical. He's that guy that I'm pretty sure everyone has known who is always getting into something and drags you along. You know it's wrong but somehow, (perhaps your own morbid curiosity or weakness) you go and end up in trouble. The narrator shooting David was him finally "growing a pair" and moving on. I guess maybe if I just came out and said "the narrator shot David" it would be better. I was trying to show it without saying it.

Pink- thanks for reading. Hopefully the slight change I made right after David gets shot helps a little. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who's had a "Dude" friend.

RyeCatcher24 · 06-23-2008, 02:57 PM

PinkFloydian21 · 07-10-2008, 08:42 PM

Wow, that was a little depressing

. But, it answered my questions from before. The only question I would have now is, "why?" Why did the narrator kill his friend? Anyways, it doesn't have to be answered, and it probably shouldn't, but that's the question I have now. I'd be curious to read more (if it were your intention to write about "why"), but as the author, you can certainly have your reasons for not giving it to me.

Very excellent.