Dirty Professor

“I think I'm going to ask her to marry me,” he said. “When I get home, that is.”

We were barrelling down a lonely stretch of road in some Afghani shithole town with a few other guys in our unit. It was a small mission – just a quick arrest of a suspected bomber. I recognized the road and the conversation. It was one of the last missions we'd run together before

he'd died.

I looked at him sitting in the seat beside me and wanted to tell him not to take point on that upcoming mission. Wanted to tell him to make me do it instead. Even though I was dimly aware that this was just a dream, there was some small part of my mind that hoped I'd somehow travelled in time and could save him. It should have been me – not him – that got hit by that IED.

But I couldn't change anything. I couldn't affect shit. All I could do was sit there and watch the scene play out.

“Fuck, man. That's pretty serious,” I replied. “What made you decide that?”

He looked up at me, and even though he was there with me, in my dream, he really wasn't there. Even at that moment in time, he was thinking about her. He was always thinking about her. I didn't blame him for it. Carrie was great and I thought she was good for him. She kept him up on Cloud Nine, but also firmly rooted to the ground. She was a unique woman and I was happy that they'd found each other.

“I dunno. We were talking last night, and I just realized I can't imagine my life without her,” he said. “Not to sound like a sentimental little bitch, but Carrie is my everything. We've been together since high school. We've gone through so much, and as we talked about the future, I realized maybe this is it. She's my soul mate. She's the one I'm supposed to grow old with.”

I laughed. “You're supposed to grow old with me, fuckface.”

Mason grinned. “I would, but you can't give a blowjob worth a shit.”

We laughed and drew a grin from the guys in the front of the Humvee. That was typical Mason – always quick with the comeback. It's how he'd earned his call sign – Joker. A little cheesy and cliché, but a well-earned nickname.

“You believe in that shit?” I asked him. “About soul mates and shit?”

“Yeah? Maybe? Hell, I don't know,” he said, looking away from me as if he was almost embarrassed that he'd say some new aged, corny and campy shit like that. “I don't know, man. I guess being out here has changed me. Seeing the things, we've seen and doing the things we've done – it's done a number on me. I remember that when I passed through SEAL training, I came out ready to kill and drink the blood of our enemies.”

I laughed. “Yeah, training has a way of doing that,” I said. “They know how to fire you up, but good.”

He nodded. “They do,” he replied. “But I'm not that guy anymore. If anything, being around so much death and destruction has made me realize how precious life is. And how much I actually have to lose. In a weird way, all this killing and death has made me a little more human – it's definitely made me more sentimental and crap.”

“I'd say,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You sound like a fuckin' Hallmark commercial mashed up with a motivational speaker. In other words, you sound like a first-class little bitch.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Mason laughed. “I'm serious though. Everything we've gone through over here has made me really realize how much I love and appreciate Carrie.”

I was giving him a ration of shit, but on the inside, I couldn't have been happier for him. He deserved to be happy. To feel loved and appreciated. Mason was one of the good ones and deserved nothing but the best.

“I know you're serious, brother,” I said. “And I really am happy for you. Carrie's a good girl. You two make a great couple.”

We normally didn't talk about shit like that. We kept it to video games, hot women, sports – you name it. We didn't get sentimental. That wasn't our way and it hurt too damn much. Especially since my girlfriend and I had broken up before I'd shipped out. She was somebody I really cared about, but she wanted someone who was going to be there for her, all the time, at her beck and call. She was upset when I told her that I was leaving and I couldn't be that for her. I had responsibilities and she couldn't understand that.

I'd asked her to wait for me. Told her we'd be able to keep in touch all the time. I promised that when my tour was up, that I'd be there for her twenty-four/seven. I would never leave her side if she didn't want me to. But she wasn't willing to wait for me. Wouldn't even consider it.

To say that it hurt, would be an understatement. I remembered feeling like I'd been kicked in the nuts by a mule.

“You'll find someone someday, Drew,” he said quietly. “No doubt about it. And she'll be somebody worthy of you. Somebody who can put up with your stupid ass.”

“I already have, Mason,” I said. “I've found that woman. And my God, is she fuckin' amazing in the sack.”

“Oh yeah?” Mason raised his eyebrow, curious.

“Yeah. It's your mom. She is an absolute mattress stallion and we couldn't be happier together,” I said, turning the conversation back to the same inane shit we always joked about. “Which means that you're going to need to start calling me Dad.”

Mason shook his head and smiled, “Whatever makes you happy, Drew. Whatever makes you happy,” he said. “Although I know you're full of shit because my mom has a little taste – which automatically rules your tacky ass out.”

I woke up drenched in sweat, Mason's face still emblazoned in my mind. That's the way to remember him, they told me. I remembered him happy. And he was never as happy as he was when he talked about Carrie and the future he planned to have with her. A future that would never materialize now. All thanks to me.

I saw Carrie at his funeral – but she didn't know the full details of what happened. There were elements of our missions we couldn't talk about. And it killed me to know that she didn't have the full story. But then, if I had told her the full story, she'd have killed me herself, I had no doubt. She'd know it was my fault that Mason was dead every bit as much as I did.

During the service, she was overcome by grief and fell to her knees, sobbing as f her entire world had fallen apart. And in a way, it had. All because of me.