Date: Tue, 19 Apr 2011 05:20:46 -0400
From: Judah Mark Stahl <jmark.stahl@gmail.com>
Subject: Navy Corpsman - Chapter 1

So I wanted to write this story, but I will be the first to admit that I'm
not sure if all the Military or other references are correct.  My memory
isn't wonderful, but I'm trying my best.

This is based on a somewhat true but wildly distorted story, so in its
current form it is definitely fiction.  However, just because it's fiction
doesn't mean parts of it did not happen.  Enjoy that maddening description.

Also, there's a lot of back-and-forth that isn't physical, but is very
emotional.  I may not be conveying it well, so feel free to shoot me an
e-mail or something and let me know either way.

Oh yeah, don't read this if you're not supposed to either legally or because
your mom or dad said so.  Or, you know, if you don't like it when two men do
the dirty.  Because that may be eventually what happens.

If you are in need of help, support, or someone to talk to, PLEASE reach out
to a local, regional, or national gay and lesbian organization, support
center, or help line.  Or at the very least, this author.  Reach the author
at: jmark.stahl@gmail.com


Navy Corpsman - Chapter 1

===

August 18, 2010

"No, Jenn, I don't want to go.  Gah, hospitals are super depressing."  Mark
generally didn't whine, but he made a special exception for this request.

"Come on, M.  The guy doesn't have ANYONE.  He's injured, in pain!  Plus,
he's served the country, we should go at least visit him in the hospital."
Jenn was trying her best to be positive, but the truth was she just did not
want to go alone.  She barely knew the guy.

===

Mark is actually Judah Mark Stahl, or J. Mark Stahl on the overly
pretentious business cards that his law firm made him carry everywhere.
Most people called him Mark, or M, or some other random nickname-- he would
pretty much respond to anything.  Jenn, his best friend but most certainly
NOT a hag, constantly referred to him with idiotic pet names.

Now 29 years old, he was professionally on track but personally
disappointed.  He made decent money as an associate in a Washington, D.C.,
law firm, but had not dated anyone seriously in years.  At 21, his excuse
was that he didn't come out in college.  At 25, he graduated law school in
the South and blamed a lack of available, eligible men.  At 29, living in
D.C., he had to admit that either he was being too picky or he was working
too hard and wasn't putting himself out there.  Or both.

But this guy. . . this guy could have been a possibility.  But circumstance
decides a lot of things, and it definitely decided this one when Mark found
out the guy was in the hospital and barely able to move.

This all got started seven months beforehand.

===

Monday, Jan. 4, 2010

Mark's secretary buzzed.  "Mark, you have a personal call.  She didn't want
to give her name. . . Have you given up on men entirely?"

He didn't answer and picked up the phone.  "Jenn, it's 9 p.m. and I'm still
in the office.  This had better be important."

"It always is.  Listen, I have this friend that I met at a bar a few weeks
ago.  Remember, the Navy guy?  He's really nice, but he needs a lawyer."

Mark was not amused, nor did he remember.  "J, I'm a corporate attorney.  I
don't do DUIs."

"Listen, damnit!" she responded.  "This is important.  He's a Navy Corpsman,
a medic, I guess.  He was assigned to Walter Reed Medical Center in D.C. but
he's being deployed to Afghanistan at the end of the week.  He was assigned
to a Marine unit to be their doctor, I guess, and he says he needs a will
written."

"A *will*?  J, I haven't drafted a will since law school.  I don't even
know--"

"Mark.  Just be a friend, and do a good thing for a guy who is about to go
into a war zone, OK?"

"Fine.  He's leaving Friday?  That's in like, four days.  Tell him to e-mail
me and I'll get back to him. . . soon?  I guess."  Mark wasn't really paying
attention.

Jenn decided to put her foot down.  "No.  This is important.  Leave
work--what could you possibly be doing at 9 p.m. anyway?-- and come meet us
at the Starbucks in Dupont Circle.  I told him you lived nearby, and he said
he would be working there anyway."

Mark sighed, hung up, and packed up his things.  At the very least, he could
do work from home.

===

Ridge picked up his coffee, and put it down again.  He knew he shouldn't
drink so much caffeine after 10, but he wanted to enjoy these little things
before being shipped off.

Shipped off.  That was not what he expected. . . A few years in the Navy,
they would pay for his medical education, and he would be OK.  He could move
to some random suburb, marry a nice girl, buy a house, have some kids-- the
life his mom and dad had.  They were gone though, and that life was too.

Richard Aldridge Bennett, III, became an orphan just after he started basic
field medical training.  He chose not to leave the training to attend his
dad's services-- he had insisted in his will on cremation-- and that was
probably the best decision.  They weren't close anyway, especially after his
mom died (cancer, in high school).

His late grandfather was Richard, his dad was Al, and his mom had nicknamed
him "Ridge," which stuck.  He really didn't like any of his other names.

The Navy was great to him though.  He enjoyed being a Navy Hospital
Corpsman, and felt like his skills were constantly tested at Walter Reed.
He was looking forward to his deployment, and the physical separation from
what he knew best.

At 28, Ridge did not have many close friends.  He tended to lose touch with
people on purpose-- he felt like it was best for all parties.  He liked
being alone, the solitude was comforting in a way.

When he was told he was being deployed, though, he knew he needed to get his
affairs in order.

===

Jenn and Mark walked into Starbucks, and she saw her Navy man sitting at the
window bar.  She went up behind Ridge and gave him a hug, which surprised
Mark-- he was curious as to how long they had known each other, and in what
way.

Awkward introductions were made, and Jenn left so the two could talk
business.  The two men's assessment of each other could not have been more
different.

Mark saw Ridge as a confident and fit military man.  His hair was a little
longer than the typical military guy, but still, a good looking individual.
About 6' 2", Ridge was tall but not too tall, and fit but not over muscled.
And a doctor too!  His mom always wanted him to be a doctor, but marrying
one might be enough for her. . .

Ridge looked at Mark and thought "Now there's a guy that could use basic
training."  Mark's 5' 5" frame held an average-sized guy; not rail thin but
not overweight at all.  He kept his hair slightly longer but still
professional, but Ridge automatically distrusted most people in suits.  And
this suit was pretty obviously expensive.

===

Mark and Ridge ended up talking through Starbucks's closing time.  They
ended up going to get a slice of pizza a few blocks over, where they got
down to business.

"Look, I need a will," Ridge said.  "I don't own much, but I have a decent
pension and someone should get it."

They talked for a while, and then Mark asked who Ridge wanted to be the
executor of his will, in case he ever needed it.  Ridge laughed.

"I have no idea.  I'd say Jenn but I don't know her last name. . . How about
you?"  Mark was shocked, but nodded his head.  He couldn't take his eyes off
this guy who would die for his country, but didn't seem to have one personal
connection in it.

"Look, this won't take me very long.  Come by my office tomorrow at about 5,
and we can sign the will and have someone witness it.  I'll make sure it
gets filed after that."  Mark was trying to prolong the conversation, but
there was really nothing left to say.

"Cool," Ridge said, and they parted ways.

===

That night, at about 4 a.m., Ridge stared at his computer screen.  He had
Mark's card in his hand, and was typing him an e-mail.

"Mark, I know you might think I am this lonely person, but I'm really not.
I just try not to get close to people-- someone or something always ends up
getting hurt.  I mean, can you imagine if I had a family right now, and then
I had to leave them for months?  I don't know what I would do.  It's better
this way.  Ridge"

He stared at the screen, and despite his better judgment, hit send.  Mark
was occupying his mind, and he did not know why.  It was the first time in a
few days that he felt like he didn't want to leave just yet.

===

Mark's Blackberry buzzed, but he was awake anyway.  He stared at the e-mail
from Ridge and did not know what to make of it.

He decided to respond back: "I never thought of it that way, but you seem
like you're ready to leave.  Are you? -M"

The reply came back within a minute: "It's my job.  Of course I'm ready.  R"

Mark rolled over and tried to get some sleep.

===

Ridge and Mark continued to e-mail throughout the day.  Starting at about 7
a.m., the two exchanged more than 50 emails, but it was one specific one
that had caught and held Mark's attention since it came it at 4:30:

"Mark- I don't know why, but suddenly I feel like I will perform better if
we keep talking while I'm gone.  Usually I like to cut ties, but I can't do
that this time.  I feel like a high-school girl asking this question, but
will you promise to keep in touch?  R"

Mark did not respond.  He waited patiently for 5 p.m. to come, so he could
see this guy in person and make sure he was for real.  But 5 came and went,
as did 6.  Finally, at 6:30, Mark decided to go work from home.  As he was
leaving the building, he recognized Ridge waiting at the bus shelter on his
side of the street.  Since he was mostly facing the street, he did not see
Mark right away.

"So what was that all about?  You made me do the work and then you decided
not to show up?"  Mark said it in a playful tone, but it was definitely cut
with a bit of anger and annoyance.

Ridge turned and looked at Mark with a pained expression.  "Look, I opened
up to you and you were there, all day, and then all of a sudden I don't hear
from you.  Fuck you.  I don't keep people like that in my life."

Mark was taken aback but did not want to cede the point.  "You don't keep
anyone in your life, which makes life so fucking easy for you.  But I bet
it's really, really lonely."  Mark couldn't believe how emotional he was
getting toward someone he barely knew.

They stared at each other for a minute, and then looked away.  Ridge broke
the tension.

"I appreciate the work you did, so let's get this signed an over with.  Then
I have to run."

Mark agreed, and they went into his office to get the will signed and
witnessed.

===

Later that night, Mark looked at his Blackberry.  The clock showed 1:15
a.m., but Mark did not remember much of the past few hours.  He kept hoping
for it to buzz with an e-mail from Ridge.

Finally, he tapped this out and tried to get some sleep: "I know you may not
want to anymore, but if you do I want to keep talking to you. -M"

===

Friday, Jan. 8, 2010

Mark was at his desk, as usual, by 7 a.m.  Unusually, Security called him
right as he was turning on his computer.

"Mr. Stahl, there is a visitor here to see you.  Richard Bennett.  Do you
want to come down and get him?"  Mark agreed and hurried downstairs.

Ridge asked for a private word with Mark.  They went to an empty conference
room, and Mark poured some water.  Ridge took a drink and looked at the
floor, the ceiling, the table, anywhere but at Mark.

"Um, I'm leaving today.  I'm actually scheduled to depart at 1300, so in
like, six hours.  I just, didn't want to leave without saying goodbye.  I
didn't know, I mean, I wasn't sure if you would be OK with me showing up,
but this is not an e-mail conversation.  You said, I mean, you wrote, I
guess, that if I wanted to we could keep talking.  Well, I want to.  I'm
sorry it took me so long to say that, but I guess I was sort of deciding, or
something."  Ridge was mad at his inarticulate sentence, but the meaning was
there.

Mark, for his part, was stunned.  This huge guy, a military man, was. . .
well, what exactly was he doing?  The guy is not gay, or at least, he
doesn't seem like it nor did he say anything.  They barely knew each other!
He just seemed painfully awkward, but that was fleeting.  Mark was touched
by Ridge's honesty though, and managed to respond in kind.

"Yeah, that sounds good.  I want to hear from you.  You'll probably have
really cool stories, so just, you know, whenever you get a chance if you
want to talk, I'll be here.  You have my e-mail address, so go for it.  And
I'll do my best to keep sending you stuff too."  Awkward, but sincere.

Ridge got up quickly, and Mark followed.  They started off with a
bro-handshake, which progressed into a full on bear-hug.  Ridge pulled away
abruptly and said "Uh, thanks.  For everything.  I'm gonna go."  As he
turned away, Mark noticed there were some tears in his eyes.

Once Ridge was gone, Mark sat at the table, put his head in his hands, and
wept.

===

In the elevator, Ridge stared at his reflection in the doors.  He didn't
really recognize the person there.  He refused to wipe the tears from his
face and willed himself to stop crying.  He had a lot to do.

---

Copyright 2011 judah mark stahl.
Thanks to a friend for the inspiration.
E-mail the author at: jmark.stahl@gmail.com