Forced Entry
“The kind of cold spring rain that had fat weathermen giggling about April showers and May flowers. If there was anything in this world that annoyed Maurice Babbit, it was April showers. Not that he gave a shit about May flowers, either, but water was a more potent enemy than beauty. Water put out fire. Or most fires. Nothing could put out his favorite fire. Nothing could put out napalm. It stuck to people like the slimy goo kids play with. Like wet burning plastic snot. In Nam, they’d assigned ...him to the “native ward” at the big hospital near Bien Hoa where he’d learned about napalm from tending injuries to the fried friendlies.
That was his own name: fried friendlies. If he’d had army buddies, they’d’ve loved that one. He didn’t. Didn’t have any buddies or anybody to talk about the fires with. Not until he got sent to jail. Not until he got himself put in a place where he couldn’t walk away. Poor Maurice. Life in Middleburg hadn’t prepared him for the army and the army hadn’t prepared him for the Clinton Correctional Facility.MoreLess
That was his own name: fried friendlies. If he’d had army buddies, they’d’ve loved that one. He didn’t. Didn’t have any buddies or anybody to talk about the fires with. Not until he got sent to jail. Not until he got himself put in a place where he couldn’t walk away. Poor Maurice. Life in Middleburg hadn’t prepared him for the army and the army hadn’t prepared him for the Clinton Correctional Facility.MoreLess
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