Alice's Part 4

The alarm’s scream once again cut into his thoughts. Two and a half hours.

There was a cute girl--Irean--who worked at the diner during the busy hours. Ray tried to talk to her, but she didn’t really understand why he was in the army, and she never really got past it.

It was during his attempts at courting Irean that the nightmares had started. He had dreamt of horrible scenes, of him wandering through streets surrounded by people he knew, all dead. At first, the dreams would start where he had grown up, on the streets of Indianapolis. Then, jarringly, the location would shift to the Baghdad shown on CNN. The people that he knew were those lying on the streets.

Ray still thought he would go. He wanted to protect the world from the demon Saddam. After months of poor sleep, he began to look closely at the news coming out of Iraq. He watched in horror as no weapons were found and the Army ran out of places to look. The longer it went on, the more obvious it became that they weren’t going to find anything.

Ray had taken Irean to dinner once; things had gone well until one of them had mentioned the war, or maybe it had been in the news on the T.V. above the bar. It was before Ray was certain of anything, but he was beginning to have his doubts.

‘I don’t get it,’ she said. ‘Even you have admitted that Dubbya’s case doesn’t add up, but you’re still going to get yourself killed.’

‘I’m just not sure. I want to protect America,’ Ray said. ‘But there’s so many things that don’t make sense. I’m confused.’

‘Then don’t go.’

‘I have to go: it’s in my contract’

‘Your contract is ridiculous. I saw my brother’s before he left. Now he’s in a wheel chair.’ Irean got frustrated--despite what she thought was outstanding evidence against the war--with his waffling and walked out.

Ray had begun to suspect that his government had betrayed him, but it was when Powell had admitted that there were no WMDs to be found, that he truly felt how deeply he had been lied to. Later, Blair was found to have used a report that was ten years old to go to war; it only added fuel to the fire of doubt.

The alarm’s beeping was more insistent when it started again. Two hours and fifteen minutes until he had to be at the airport.

He had applied for C.O. status the day after he had taken Irean to dinner. She had pushed him over the edge. The sergeant, who accepted his form, had looked him up and down, and sneered.

The suspense over the next few weeks put a lot of stress on Ray. He lost sleep, and didn’t eat for days on end. He worried they would still send him to fight a war he didn’t want. One day he was visiting Alice at the diner.

‘You look rough,’ Alice said as Ray walked in the door. It was a slow day, and Alice was watching the rain trickle down the window.

‘I feel worse.’

‘Haven’t seen you in a few days, how are you doing?’

‘Well, I haven‘t slept or eaten in days,’ Ray said. ‘And… I’ve applied for my C.O. status.’

‘Do you think they will give it to you?’

‘I hope so.’ Ray felt, and sounded uncertain.

‘Well, if you don’t, there are other options,’ said Alice.

‘I guess,’ said Ray, before he gave a weak grin, and went out into the rain, on his way to the base.

Ray hadn’t heard anything about his C.O. status until yesterday. The sergeant of his unit had spent fifteen minutes yelling at the troop, saying that there would be no acceptances of applications: everyone was going, whether they liked it or not. Ray had gone straight home then--crying like he had never cried before.