Jaxson (12 page)

From the halls of Montezuma

To the shores of Tripoli

We will fight our country’s battles

In the air on land and sea

First to fight for right and freedom

And to keep our honor clean

We are proud to claim the title of United States Marines!

John Phillips Sousa “Marines’ Hymn”

Kehau remembered her high school prom, thinking she’d never seen so many beautiful dresses before. This though, this was incredible! Every shade and color of the rainbow was on display. The men were in uniform, with few exceptions. Jax was one of them. Instead, he’d gone with a midnight blue tuxedo and bowtie, giving him a James Bond appearance. James Bond didn’t have a row of miniature medals on his chest though. She didn’t know what all they stood for, but she knew the most important fact of all—she loved the man she was with. And he’d already proven he’d do anything for her.

They were at the Marriot Hotel in Ko' Olina, enjoying the fresh ocean breeze as the sun slowly fell toward the horizon. Jax was leading her around, introducing her to friends and their dates for the event. She had a glass of champagne and she felt like a queen. It was a perfect way to start the night.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats, the ceremony will begin in five minutes.”

“Guess that’s our cue, sweetheart.” He tossed back the last of his drink and set the empty glass where a server could pick it up.

Making their way inside through the press, Kehau was startled by how easily everyone seemed to find their seats.
Then again, this is the military, they aren't anything if not organized.
It was something that had come out more than once in Jax’s stories about his time in the military.
Everything seems to be going well so far though.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I would direct your attention to the table at the rear where a place has been set for those Marines who have gone before us. The military way of life is filled with much symbolism. The table provides a way to tell us that members of our profession, whom we call “brothers”, are unable to be with us this evening.”

Jax moved so slowly she almost didn't catch it. His hand dipped into his coat pocket, producing of all things a rosary, with dog tags looped on to it. He began to run his thumb across the worn metal, lips moving as he looked over each one in turn.

“It is set for one, yet there are many represented by the single chair. The table is draped in black, symbolizing the color of mourning; the ultimate sacrifice, a table set in honor of our fallen comrades. The single lighted candle reminds us of the flame of eternal life the memory of our fallen comrades will be with us always. The Purple Heart medal displayed to reflect the infliction of wounds and the ebb of life in battle. The identification tags blank, yet they could bear the name of Marines of every creed and color, and from every state in the Union. The dinner setting inverted, they dine with us in spirit only. Those who have died so we may live, our former comrades who have earned the glory and have given to us the respect and pride that we, as Marines, hold so dear.”

A bugler stood with trumpet in hand, and began to play a sad mournful tune. It seemed to reach deep down inside her heart, grabbing hold and twisting, and for a long moment, Kehau remembered the class trip she’d taken in junior high to the Punchbowl Military cemetery on island. Looking over at Jax, she saw his eyes were closed. His big hands were tightly clenched around the rosary, and she saw tears rolling down his face. The bugler finished, and after a moment of silence, the ceremony continued.

Jax dried his eyes with a kerchief, and as Kehau looked around the room, she realized he wasn't the only one doing so. In a room full of hard men, there were few dry eyes. These were men they drank, fought, lived, and chased girls alongside. Men who never came home from those places they had been.
This is the first time he's ever cried in front of me.
Kehau remembered what her father had said about unpopular war.
This is the only place where they can mourn in peace.
Suddenly the night held new meaning for her.

As the ceremony progressed, Jax quietly explained the different parts of it to her. Some of things seemed silly, like the cake cutting. But it was all part of what made Marines who and what they were. She could respect that.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Sgt. Major Caldwell.”

The applause was near deafening, Jax had pointed out the indomitable man to her during the cocktail hour, with the explanation, “He’s big, ballsy, hard, and commands respect. He’s what we strive to be like.”

The Sergeant Major stood at the head of the room, and cleared his throat.

“Our Guest of Honor, and the Speaker tonight, is different from what you see on the program. Colonel Lloyd got badly burned on a field op and is recuperating at Trippler. Our prayers and thoughts are with him and his family at this time. However, an old friend happened to call me last week. I told him about our situation, and he was happy to help. Twenty-nine years ago, when I met him at Camp Pendleton, I was a brand new boot private, fresh off the Depot. He was my platoon sergeant.”

Caldwell moved about with an enthusiasm more akin to a fiery southern preacher. “I thought I was hard. Staff Sergeant was harder. He taught me what it meant to be a Marine. Motivation, Attitude, Discipline. It all came from him. He’ll knock the brakes off yuh! He sure did it to me, more than once.” Laughter filled the room and he continued, “Our guest speaker is an old school mortar man. He earned a Navy Cross in Vietnam for taking out four enemy tanks and preventing the capture of a bridge the NVA badly wanted. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Gunnery Sergeant Jerry Makoa.”

Kehau was shocked and from the look on Jax’s face, he had no idea about it either. But that was her father stepping up to the microphone, looking younger than he had in years.

“Good evening, devil dogs, ladies. I happen to like 1/3. When I retired in 1989, I was the gunnery sergeant over Weapons Company. I know all about Pointless Training Area, Shit Creek, bad MREs and living in Mackie Hall. Those barracks were a dump when I was in.”

“They still are!” a brave voice yelled from out in the crowd.

“They still are? What a surprise. I had to keep my assault men from blowing them up once every other week on Field Day.” He scanned the room. “I haven’t seen this many marines together in years. And it’s a beautiful sight. You senior Lance Corporals ought to be proud of yourselves. Same goes for the Corporals and Sergeants. You are the backbone of our institution. So long as you’re doing your job, we can survive the Lieutenant getting lost with a map and a compass. Again. You point him in the right direction and send him on his way. Or taking a certain private and making him dig sandbags all day. What? You think the Sergeant Major got those arms naturally? I helped him build those bad boys one shovelful at a time.”

The room filled with laughter.

“I know chow’s a calling, and I know you boys want to hit that bar again. I don’t blame you. We’re hell-raisers, heartbreakers, and life takers. We drink napalm and piss barbwire. We’re hard to love, hard to live with, and we’re damned lucky if we can find women who put up with us.

“I didn't imagine I'd go to a ball after I retired in 1989. Some months ago, a Marine decided to start chasing my little girl. All the girls he could chase in the world, and he meets my only daughter. What are the odds?” Jerry smiled. “Though from what your Sergeant Major tells me, Jaxson Kuznia has always been crazy. On a serious note though, if all the marines of this battalion are like him, then I have reason to be proud of each and every single one of you. You are a credit to yourselves and our history as marines.

“Never forget who you are and what you stand for. I have friends buried here, and at Arlington. Yes, I earned this Navy Cross, but it wasn’t just Lance Corporal Makoa out there slaying bodies that night in 1972. It was Tommy McConnell and Eddie Blair and Lee Showles and a whole host of other Marines to my left and to my right. I visited Eddie Blair’s grave last week down at the Punchbowl. I miss him every bit as much now as I did the day we sent his body home from Vietnam. You never stop missing your friends. You never listen to Taps without crying because you remember them, living and dying in your arms. And that’s okay. But don’t ever dishonor their memory. Don’t ever break faith with each other or the Corps. If you can do that, our country has a bright shining future. Oorah?”

“OORAH, Gunny!” the room chorused as one.

“Thank you for having me here tonight. I’ll see you devil dogs at the bar.”

Dinner was quickly served, much to Kehau’s delight. It was the next announcement though, that she had been looking forward to. “Ladies and gentlemen, the dance floor is now open.”

“Hey, Johnny Rocket, care to take me for a whirl?”

“All night long, pretty baby.”

It was nearly three in the morning and the DJ had just announced, “Lst song.” Jax held Kehau close as they waltzed to a slow love song by Elvis.
Best fifteen dollars I ever spent.
He looked her up and down appreciatively once more.
She looks incredible.
“You're gorgeous, Kehau.”

She looked at him and smiled, in a way that made him melt and go hard all at once. “Thank you, Johnny Rocket.”

The lights came on as the song ended. “What else would you like to do?” he asked.

“Could we go for a walk on the beach?”

“Of course.”

Heading out through the side door, Johnny and Kehau made their way down to the quiet lagoon. The moon had come out as a large white crescent, and the stars were brilliant specks of light in the night sky. Helping Kehau take her heels off, Johnny took her hand in his and they slowly made their way across the sand. She leaned up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I've had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. I hoped you would.”

“This is like senior prom, only a million times better.”

“You should see the balls in Vegas. I went with some grunt buddies stationed out of 29 Palms, and we were dancing until at least four in the morning.”

Kehau yawned. “Oh excuse me. I'm so sorry.”

“No worries. Tired?”

“Exhausted. I might need you to carry me to the truck.”

“That can be arranged.”

“That sounds so very tempting.”

Bending slightly, Jax scooped Kehau up and carried her off the beach, pausing only to pick up her shoes and continued walking. By the time he reached the valet though, she was fast asleep.

Good thing my apartment is close by, I'll be able to tuck her into a real bed there. Hopefully she stays asleep.
He felt something tug at his heartstrings. She was everything he wanted and needed in a woman.
And she looks so pretty just lying there asleep.
Another part of him spoke then.

Make her yours before somebody else does.

Kehau was glad to be home. Work kept her mind off how much she missed Jax, but it was good to come home and take a break. Things had finally quieted down since the attack and returned to normal.
Marissa’s home already
?
She’s early
.
Wonder what’s going on
?
Hope it’s not that kava chugging asshole she calls a father
.

Marissa was waiting for her inside though, with a very worried expression on her face.

”Kehau, we need to talk,” she said in a serious tone.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Jax.”

Immediately, a thousand possibilities sprang to mind.
This can’t be happening.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been helping him cheat on you.”

Kehau blinked. “Excuse me?” Marissa. Goody little two-shoes never does nothing wrong Molly Mormon Marissa was banging Jax behind her back! She saw stars and for a moment her world spun. Then it was blackness.

When she came to, Marissa was holding a compress to her forehead.

“Get away from me!” Kehau snarled.

“It’s not what you think!” Marissa replied.

“You just told me he’s cheating on me! With you!” Kehau grabbed a glass off the counter and flung it at her as hard as she could. Marissa stepped aside and it shattered on the wall.

“I’ve never slept with him!”

“You just said he’s cheating on me!” Kehau grabbed another glass and cocked back her arm.

“He comes into my bakery and buys cupcakes because he can’t stand anything you bake for him!” Marissa shouted.

Kehau paused. “Say that one more time.”

“He comes into my bakery and buys cupcakes because he can’t stand anything you bake for him!”

When she saw that Kehau was listening, she pressed on.

“I wish I was lying. I pulled the morning shift for Hokulani last week in the kitchen. I heard him talking with the girl at the register about how he loves his girlfriend but hates her baking because all of it makes him sick.”

Now that was news. Kehau sat down hard on a barstool.

“How long?”

“I asked the other girls on the shift, they said he found it after you two started dating. Every week he comes in and gets his fix of cupcakes.”

“Why hasn’t he said anything to me?”

“Supposedly, he said he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Not hurt my feelings? That prick!” Bitter tears formed at the corners of her eyes and Kehau felt an imminent rage come over her. There was a lot she could put up with, but this? She’d put so much time and effort into making things for him to take with him on trips! Did he have any idea how hard it was to bake him anything from scratch?

But what if they really did suck? What if she really didn’t know how to bake? The more she thought about it, the more despondent she became. What if this wasn’t the only thing wrong with her?

Now the tears really came. Gently Marissa placed a hand on her back and handed her a tissue.

“I’m sure there’s a way to make it up to him.”

Kehau looked up at her. “Like what?”

“Well, why not make him some cupcakes and prove you can bake?”

“What does that do?”

“Well, he wouldn’t come to my bakery any more. That’s for sure.”

And he’d be back in my kitchen, where he belong
s,
Kehau thought furiously.

“Would you like me to teach you how?” Marissa asked helpfully.

It would be so easy if she just showed me what I’m doing wrong
.
Another part of her spoke up then.
But I’d never know if I was actually any good at them.

“No, but I will need a good recipe for cupcakes.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I am.” Kehau wiped the tears away in angry strokes.

“Okay, but if you need help, you know where to find me.”

The first fireman through the door followed the smoke. They’d been told it was an oven fire, but they’d still suited up.
Never know what some people are gonna have in the oven
,
the chief had stressed before he sent them out. Sure enough, the oven was on fire. They put it out quickly, then looked around to survey the damage.

“So what happened?”

“I was baking cupcakes for my boyfriend,” Kehau told them. “I left it alone for a few minutes to take a nap. I think I forgot to set the timer.”

The firemen nodded their heads understandingly. Accidents do happen after all.

“Thank you for the response, I do appreciate it,” she furthered.

“Not a problem, ma’am, we’ll take care of some paperwork outside then be on our way.”

“Okay.”

“Just be a little more careful next time, all right?”

“I can do that,” she assured them.

*****

Carli’s day had been long and frustrating as all hell. This new grant was taking forever to get approved! She needed something to get her mind off how frustrated she was at the whole process. “Why in the world is there a fire truck in front of my house?”

She parked in the driveway and looked around.
I don’t see flames, I don’t see smoke
.
So what’s going on?

She stepped out of her car, and came face to face with a half-dozen men stripping down out of their gear. Well-built, healthy, young men. Her libido kicked into high gear, and she found herself cursing once more. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Not in the ways I want
.

“I live here, is everything okay?”

“Oven fire, one of your roommates was trying to bake cupcakes.”

“Oh my.”

“Nothing to worry about, we put it out, and there shouldn’t be any smoke damage, but you’ll need to air out the house for a couple days.”

“We can do that.”

Must get inside
.
Must get inside
.
Oh frack me
.
I hate life
.
She threw a last glance at the half-dressed firefighters.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say you did that on purpose
,
Kehau
. Just for me. God bless you.

Within, every door and window was open, fans running full speed. Kehau was nowhere to be seen though. “Kehau?” she called out.

“Up here.” Kehau’s head appeared around the corner. “I’m about to make a large margarita and sit in the hot tub.”

“Care for some company?”

“Please.”

A quick change of clothes and a judicious use of the blender later, both women were relaxing in the hot tub, with the heat off, and their sunglasses on, enjoying the afternoon sun.

“So, tell me what happened?”

“I forgot to use the timer on my cupcakes.”

“I ought to thank you for calling 911.”

“It’s not like I want to buy another house like this, I can’t afford it.”

“Not that silly. The firemen, oh my goodness, did you see them?”

Kehau looked at her levelly. “I’m rather attached right now. Even if I do intend to kill him.”

Briefly, she shared what Marissa had told her, concluding with, “And that’s how come we had firemen here today.”

“Well, to be fair to Jax, I got sick off that batch of cookies you made for him a couple months ago. They were still raw and I got food poisoning from the egg yolks.”

“That’s why you were sick for a week?”

“Uh huh,” Carli nodded her head sagely. “How hot do you set the oven at?”

“Five hundred, so they can cook faster.”

Carli choked on her margarita. “No wonder you’re having problems. Turn the heat down! Three fifty at most. Low and slow. It makes sure everything gets cooked all the way through and you don’t burn the bottoms. Much less start a fire.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. When is the insurance coming by to look at the oven?”

“Probably tomorrow.”

“Good. Try not to burn the next one down too.”

*****

In any event, Carli was ready the second time around. She’d barely gotten in the pool when Kehau came running out the back door, chased by a tall pillar of black smoke.

“Call 911!” she screamed.

“Already on it,” Carli said almost conversationally.
Enjoy the show, boys.

Ten minutes later, the fire department had the situation under control.
And don’t all of them look so good today?
Carli let them get a proper view of her sitting on the back porch sipping her beer. The first three men through the door had tripped over each other at the sight of the busty blonde in her red bikini. But still, none of them had asked for her name and number. What the hell did it take to get some male attention around this place?

And what was she going to do about Kehau? It had taken two days to get the stink of smoke out of the house, and she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to think about how long it had taken this time. Never mind the messy disaster of frosting splattered across every surface of the kitchen.

Good freaking hell. What am I going to do about this? Marissa’s too nice. And Pua’s busy at her salon.
She scanned through the list of contacts on her phone.
I think today is Nikole’s day off. And she makes damned good pumpkin pie. Hmmm…

Kehau heard voices coming from the kitchen and walked downstairs to see what was happening. Carli was talking animatedly with Nikole, and when Kehau appeared, she turned toward her.

“Kehau, didn't Jax leave behind the key to his new house?”

“I'm pretty sure he did.”

“Road trip.” Grabbing the younger woman by either arm, Carli and Nikole marched her out the door toward Nikole’s Honda.

The GPS took them to Ko’ Olina, on the far western side of the island. There, nestled against the side of a mountain facing the sea, Kehau found his house. It was a large piece of land, easily half an acre in dimension, surrounded by a thick stone wall running from all the way around. The leafy tops of trees could be seen poking their heads above the walls.

“Do we knock?” Nikole asked.

“He gave me the keys. And he might have mentioned something about a groundskeeper. I just can't remember,” Kehau told her.

“I don't feel like walking up that hill, so I'm driving,” Nikole declared, settling the matter for the moment. She pulled up beside a callbox and pressed the alert button.

“Good afternoon. How may I help you?” the speaker crackled.

“My name’s Kehau Makoa, this is my boyfriend’s house, and I was wanting to take a look at the finished project.”

“Please pull inside the gates.”

“Step inside my lair, said the spider to the fly,” Nikole grumbled.

Within, the property was a sprawling tree-dotted landscape. It was green everywhere and clean. The house itself was a stone structure, rather like a castle, with a second story set back toward the rear. The concrete driveway led to one side of the house, where an open air stable-style garage had been erected, with yellow paint striped on the asphalt. Sure enough, there were Jax’s truck and the Brimstone. Carli parked the car as a short, intense, Asian man approached them in pants and a t-shirt.

“Good afternoon, ladies. Jaxson told me to be expecting you. Care for a tour?” he asked in strongly British-accented English. It was a surprising thing to hear.

Kehau looked at the other two women. Carli was fiddling with her keys and Nikole shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” She still had no clue who he was though, and asked as much.

“My name’s Ganju Rai. I’m Jaxson’s groundskeeper.

He turned and Kehau saw the large knife secured in the middle of his back. “Why do you have such a big knife?”

Ganju looked back at the women with a smile. “I’m a Gurkha,” he said casually, as if that answered everything, and then led the women inside.

Within, it was immaculately clean, rooms for guest downstairs, a study, a sitting room, and a massive kitchen. There were few pictures, but that was to be expected. It was a man’s house. And it desperately needed a woman’s touch.

“He was quite specific about the kitchen, he wanted something he could move around in easily and opened onto the l
â
nai,” Ganju explained.

“I think I’m jealous,” Carli said, slightly awestruck.

“Think?” Nikole exclaimed. “I know I am.” She gestured around the room. “Look at this! It’s like something out of a magazine. Hell, I bet he hired the decorator from one to do this.”

“Actually no,” Ganju said with a grin. “He has…friends in high places. Amongst them is a chef of renown who was happy to lay out the plans for this area.”

“Kehau, he might be an idiot about some things, but give your boyfriend credit, he knows what the hell he’s doing. Most of the time,” Carli declared. She looked at Ganju seriously. “Could we use the kitchen to try some cooking of our own please?”

“Of course. Need me to run to the store for anything?”

“No, but there’s a laundry basket full of stuff in the trunk of my car that we’ll need,” Nikole told him.

Ganju took her keys and disappeared from sight.

“What are you going to cook here?” Kehau hissed at Carli as soon as he was gone.

“Your damned cupcakes, woman,” Carli shot back. “I’m sick of smelling smoke, and while you might like to take trash on your own it’s okay to admit when you can’t do stuff right.”

“But if you make it, then it’s not from me,” Kehau protested.

“Girl, he ain’t gonna know, and he ain’t gonna care,” Nikole told her determinedly. “So far as he knows it came from you. And that’s all the matters. Got it?”

“Fine. Okay. I give up!” Kehau relented.

Ganju returned bearing a laundry basket full of ingredients.

“If that’s all for now, ladies, I’ll leave you to enjoy yourselves. I can be reached from the call screen over on the wall at any time.”

Two hours later, the women began frosting their first batch of cupcakes. Teaching Kehau had been a labor of love. But Carli was used to that. After all, if she could teach Oceanography to college freshman, teaching a dear friend how to bake correctly was a cinch.

“The frosting isn’t melting,” Kehau said with surprise.

“Yeah, that’s why you let them cool a little.”

Kehau popped the chocolate morsel in her mouth. “Oh! This is delicious!”

“See,” Nikole said. “Now we’re gonna try pie. Men are suckers for it. Pua could probably explain the psychology behind that. I just know I never have any left over at Thanksgiving.”

It was late in the night when Ganju rejoined them in the kitchen. Spying the empty beer bottles and half-eaten baked goods, he smiled. “I assume you ladies will need a place to stay tonight?”

“Please?” Carli asked. “I want to see what he did with the guest rooms.”

“Right this way, ladies.”

Staggering slightly, the three women linked arms and started to follow him when Kehau had an idea. “Ganju, could you show us to the master bedroom?”

He never batted an eye at the question. Just turned with that light cheerful grin. “Jaxson might have a comment or two about three lovely ladies sleeping in his bed and him not here to enjoy it.”

“Then he should get his happy ass back here pronto,” Carli guffawed.

“Shut up, Carli. I'm sure he’s got friends,” Kehau told her seriously.

“Well where have they been the last few months you two have been dating? I'm lonely, I have needs too!”

Ganju led them up the stairs at the rear of the house to a wide doorway. Within the bedroom was a massive four-poster bed, surrounded by sumptuous deep-pile carpets underfoot. There were pictures of his family, his time in service, even one of Kehau on his nightstand.

“Will that be all, ladies?”

“Yes, Ganju, thank you.”

“Have a good night.”

He closed the door behind him, leaving the three to their own devices.

“I want to explore but I want to sleep too,” Nikole moaned.

“Let’s explore tomorrow, right now, I'm too tired to care about anything else.”

Slowly, all three clambered into the bed. Kehau could smell him in the soft sheets. Somewhere inside of her, a dam broke, and she realized how badly she missed him.
God, bring him home safe, I need him.
She closed her eyes and darkness enveloped her.