like him. Nothing rattled Sammy Duvall.
Sammy’s voice trembled as he said, “I should’ve come to visit you. But… seeing you in that place, just waiting to…”
Jack put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Sammy. I understand.”
Sammy wiped his eyes and said, “Anyway, I’m here now. And you’re probably gonna wish I wasn’t.”
“Why?”
“I’m your drill instructor.”
“What?”
“Worked a deal with the folks here.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Told ’em you were a special case. And you need special treatment. And if you’re okay with it, so are they.”
“I’m definitely okay with it. That was one reason I called you. To have you help me get back in shape.”
“Famous last words, boy, because I’m gonna kick your butt.”
The weeks went by swiftly. And with pain. Much pain.
The sweat streaming off him during one particularly arduous workout, Jack told Sammy, “I can’t do one more damn push-up. I can’t!”
“Can’t or won’t? ’Cause that’s all the difference in the world, son.”
Jack did one more push-up and then another and then a third, until he could no longer feel his arms. Jack had gone on to pump thousands of pounds of weights, run on the treadmill until he couldn’t stand the stink of his own sweat, perform more push-ups until his arms nearly fell off, jump rope until his knees failed.
He cursed at Sammy, who laughed at him and goaded him into doing more, and more.
“You call yourself an army ranger? Sam Jr. can work harder than you, and he’s a big, fat baby.”
And Sammy didn’t just instruct. He got down on the floor and did the exercises with Jack. “If an old man like me can do this, you sure as hell can,” was his usual taunt.
On and on it went. Sammy screaming in his face and Jack gnashing his teeth, furrowing his brow, and doing one more pull-up, one more push-up, one more mile on the treadmill, one more set of curls, a hundred more pounds on the squat bar. But the thing was, Jack was growing stronger with every rep.
He talked to his kids every day. They knew he was in rehab. They knew he was getting stronger.
On one joint Skype session, Jack showed Cory and Jackie his muscles.
“You’re ripped, Dad,” said Cory.
“Whipped,” crowed Jackie.
Later that night he saw Mikki. She hadn’t agreed to do a Skype session with him in a while, but repeated phone calls from him and finally Sammy had convinced her.
“You look great, Dad,” she said slowly. “You really do.”
“You look thin,” he replied.
“Yeah, well, Grandma is watching her weight, which means we all eat like birds.”
“Cheeseburger’s on me.”
“When?” she said quickly.
“Sooner than you think, sweetie. I know I probably should have come out to see you before now. And I miss you more than anything. But… but I want to do this right. When I was in the army and we’d go on patrol, I always analyzed everything that might come up. Some of the other guys liked to wing it. Just turn on the fly. And sometimes in combat you have to do that. But being prepared for everything because you’ve done your homework is the best way to survive, Mikki. I hope you understand. I want to do this right. For all of you.”
“I get it, Dad.” She added playfully, “And Skype will get you ready for when I go to college and you really miss me.”
Finally, the day came on a surprisingly warm spring morning. Jack’s bag was packed and he was sitting on his bed when Sammy came into the room. “It’s time.”
“I know it is,” said Sammy.
“I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Sure you could, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”
While his discharge papers were being finalized, Jack sat in a chair outside the rehab office. The months had been a blur. He drew a long, measured breath, trying to collect histhoughts. He looked out the window, where winter had passed and spring had arrived. Crocuses were pushing through the earth and
Sammy’s voice trembled as he said, “I should’ve come to visit you. But… seeing you in that place, just waiting to…”
Jack put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Sammy. I understand.”
Sammy wiped his eyes and said, “Anyway, I’m here now. And you’re probably gonna wish I wasn’t.”
“Why?”
“I’m your drill instructor.”
“What?”
“Worked a deal with the folks here.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Told ’em you were a special case. And you need special treatment. And if you’re okay with it, so are they.”
“I’m definitely okay with it. That was one reason I called you. To have you help me get back in shape.”
“Famous last words, boy, because I’m gonna kick your butt.”
The weeks went by swiftly. And with pain. Much pain.
The sweat streaming off him during one particularly arduous workout, Jack told Sammy, “I can’t do one more damn push-up. I can’t!”
“Can’t or won’t? ’Cause that’s all the difference in the world, son.”
Jack did one more push-up and then another and then a third, until he could no longer feel his arms. Jack had gone on to pump thousands of pounds of weights, run on the treadmill until he couldn’t stand the stink of his own sweat, perform more push-ups until his arms nearly fell off, jump rope until his knees failed.
He cursed at Sammy, who laughed at him and goaded him into doing more, and more.
“You call yourself an army ranger? Sam Jr. can work harder than you, and he’s a big, fat baby.”
And Sammy didn’t just instruct. He got down on the floor and did the exercises with Jack. “If an old man like me can do this, you sure as hell can,” was his usual taunt.
On and on it went. Sammy screaming in his face and Jack gnashing his teeth, furrowing his brow, and doing one more pull-up, one more push-up, one more mile on the treadmill, one more set of curls, a hundred more pounds on the squat bar. But the thing was, Jack was growing stronger with every rep.
He talked to his kids every day. They knew he was in rehab. They knew he was getting stronger.
On one joint Skype session, Jack showed Cory and Jackie his muscles.
“You’re ripped, Dad,” said Cory.
“Whipped,” crowed Jackie.
Later that night he saw Mikki. She hadn’t agreed to do a Skype session with him in a while, but repeated phone calls from him and finally Sammy had convinced her.
“You look great, Dad,” she said slowly. “You really do.”
“You look thin,” he replied.
“Yeah, well, Grandma is watching her weight, which means we all eat like birds.”
“Cheeseburger’s on me.”
“When?” she said quickly.
“Sooner than you think, sweetie. I know I probably should have come out to see you before now. And I miss you more than anything. But… but I want to do this right. When I was in the army and we’d go on patrol, I always analyzed everything that might come up. Some of the other guys liked to wing it. Just turn on the fly. And sometimes in combat you have to do that. But being prepared for everything because you’ve done your homework is the best way to survive, Mikki. I hope you understand. I want to do this right. For all of you.”
“I get it, Dad.” She added playfully, “And Skype will get you ready for when I go to college and you really miss me.”
Finally, the day came on a surprisingly warm spring morning. Jack’s bag was packed and he was sitting on his bed when Sammy came into the room. “It’s time.”
“I know it is,” said Sammy.
“I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Sure you could, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”
While his discharge papers were being finalized, Jack sat in a chair outside the rehab office. The months had been a blur. He drew a long, measured breath, trying to collect histhoughts. He looked out the window, where winter had passed and spring had arrived. Crocuses were pushing through the earth and
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