Shorties: 72

Andy’s baptism by fire was a blurred mix of adrenaline, fear, and exhaustion.  Events of the day were a never ending nightmare of scenes he couldn’t block out.  The replays tried to interject themselves as Andy and Chip Wilson dug into the unforgiving earth to make their foxhole.  With ears ringing after a day of firing his weapon and explosions near and far, Andy’s body rebelled.  After being hyped for the whole day, his body was shutting down and every movement took supreme effort.  He felt emptied and spent. 

Finally, the hole was deep enough and wide enough for both to fit.  Chip took first watch and Andy settled down to sleep.  After adjusting his position for the second time, Andy fell immediately into slumber. 

For his whole life, Andrew Barnes was simply Andy Barnes.  To look at him elicited no thought he was special.  He was a good friend but he wasn’t particularly athletic or intelligent.  The girls in his school never swooned when he arrived.  Even Andy never thought himself important in any way.  However, there was one unique thing about Andy.  He was quite unlucky.  For the whole of his formative years, event after event never turned out in Andy’s favor.  Nothing lucky ever happened to him until he was drafted into the Army.  After many years of pondering this aberration of life, Andy clearly saw the irony but never could understand why. 

It was with an overwhelming sense of doom; Andy boarded the bus to boot camp.  The country was at war and Andy just knew he would be cannon fodder.  To have a horrible death or be terribly maimed were certain fates.  Of this Andy was sure but he couldn’t decide which was most unlucky.  Consequently, great dread filled Andy. 

He met all the minimum standards and finished boot camp.  He arrived home on leave as Private First Class Andrew P. Barnes.  It was during this leave Andy had an insight.  Since he would die or be maimed early in his combat experience, he should make peace with that fate here and now.  Living in fear wouldn’t serve him or his fellow combatants.  By the time Andy returned to base, he was at peace with his terrible destiny. 

Destiny, his destiny, was in the movies of death and destruction filling the eyes of his subconscious.  Andy relived again Dean Burke getting hit in the elbow.  Writhing in pain and shocked at the flow of blood, Dean whimpered and moaned when Andy reached him.  The lower half of the arm remained attached by a small thread of skin.  The forearm bounced to and fro as Andy pulled and drug Dean to safety. 

Andy wasn’t being heroic.  He was certain he was next to die or get wounded and wanted to complete his destiny.  Instead, he found himself reliving the day.  It was a day he wanted to forget.  One by one, tragic events paraded before him in a mockery of destiny.  His resolve weakened.  Andy was no longer sure of his destiny.  Icy panic gripped him.  Dean heard a deep groan of despair vibrate from Andy and turned to see him in the cool darkness. 

Dean hoped Andy would stop.  He was fighting demons of his own and feared those waiting to pounce while he slept.  Little by little, Andy stirred more as specters cast their spells upon him.  Slowly, Dean leaned closer, careful not to touch his comrade.  Then he softly but clearly whispered, “Andy.  Andy.  Andy.”

Andy looked down and saw Dean’s blood on his hands and wiped them onto some grass nearby and then onto a pant leg.  Then he heard a whisper calling his name, “Andy.”  He turned around and noticed an army boot sitting upright with the jagged edges of bones sticking out.  Andy winced.  Again, he heard his name, “Andy.” 

Slowly, he traversed down a long corridor of reality (“Andy”) and entered the realm of consciousness.  He jumped with a start and glared wildly at Dean, but it wasn’t Dean.  The vision faded to reality and Andy saw Chip.  Chip whispered, “It’s ok.  You’re ok.  It was just a dream.”

Fully awake now, Andy wanted to cry.  He wasn’t sure which was worse, dream land or real life.  Then with the deepest of convictions, Andy whispered back, “Today’s the day I die.”