Letters in my pocket..

Letters in my pocket..

I was a soldier for 15 year and I made friends with the people swimming in chaos.

I befriended bartenders, drunks, strippers and kind women.

My favorite women were from Texas. They were kind to the soldiers.

The Texas gals held my hands and made me dance the Texas two-step.

They adopted the soldier, who were alone.

The Texas gals would ask you to dance and not accept the answer no.

I remember on a winter night in Belton, Texas.

A pretty girl asked me to dance and she dragged me to the dance floor.

She was pretty as a Spring warm morning.

I asked her. What college did she go to.?

She smiled and she told me. I don’t go to college.

I am eight grade. I create distance between us and I asked her.

It is 12 midnight. Why are you in the dance hall?

She smiled and she told me. My name is Ella and I am with my mother.

In Texas, with parent. We can be in the dancehall till 2am.

She took me to meet her mama. A beautiful dark hair woman with dancing eyes.

She told her mother. I found us a dance partner and she wandered away.

She put out her hands and she told me. My name is Cindy and my daughter

doesn’t like sad eyes soldiers drinking alone. She treats soldier like stray dogs.

I took her hand and she smiled. I told her. Ella is a beauty, almost as pretty as her mama.

She asked me. How long have been a soldier? I told her. Almost 10 years. She asked me.

Where are you from? I told her. Michigan born and now Texas reborn. She laughed and

she asked me. Do you go home and visit. I told her. I am forgotten. Just a soldier now.

The Army is my home now. Lana is near and listening. Her eyes coming alert and alive.

She told me. No-one should be alone. Are you writing letter to people? I told her. No.

After you escape home. You become forgotten. I am a Sgt. in the Army. I have 120 children

now. Lana asked my name. I told her Johnnie and her mother took my hand. She told me.

My name is Rebecca. Texas born, mama and teacher. We don’t allow the soldiers be forgotten.

She asked me. Do you eat? or only drink? I told her. Eggs and bacon. A gourmet meal.

She told Lana. We will take Johnnie home. Feed him bacon and eggs. Make him work in

the morning for the meal. Johnnie, we have a large home and too many acres. Please

come with us. We won’t hurt you.

We became friends. Every Friday, dance at the Dance Hall and I repaired fences

and tried to repair the sleeping Texas land on Saturday and Sunday morning.

I was deployed to Iraq and Lana told me. Me and mama will write you weekly.

We want souvenirs from Iraq and remember in Belton, Texas. We are your family.

Dear Rebecca wrote me a short letter and I kept in my pocket for 180 days.

( Dear Johnnie.

Me and Lana adore you. You are a good friend.

Our fields are growing sunflowers and wildflower because of your hard work.

You are a gentleman and kind. We appreciate what you have done for us.

We love you, please be safe and remember Texas is your home now.

Love and kisses

Rebecca.)

(Lana wrote a note. Please Johnnie. Better to be a chicken than a hero.

Please be safe and come back to us.

Love Lana.)

I am a old man now. I still have the letters from my Texas gals. I tell people.

A letter in your pocket. A precious item to hold in your hands.

Johnnie