Note: If you are looking for rampant sex to jump off each page at you, this story is not for you. I do not write for prurient interests, I write stories, that may involve sexual situations, as part of the plot. Chapter 3 has less of these situations then Chapters 1 or 2 had; it just worked out that way. I am new at this art form, this story being only my second attempt at writing. I have no idea where this story is heading, from chapter to chapter, I only have it outlined for the next two chapters. If you have any ideas that you think would add flavor to this story, put them in the comment box, after you vote, and I will read them. Please enjoy reading Chapter 3.
This is a work of fiction. All persons, places and things associated with this story are the product of my warped sense of humor and imagination. All rights are reserved. Prolonged_Debut10
10. Flying East
Flying first class was new to both of them. Flying Al Italia meant one other thing for Antonia, she could drink any alcoholic beverage she wanted, after the aircraft passed the three miles outside the borders of the United States. However, there was a fly in Antonia's ointment, and he was sitting next to her. Frank allowed her one glass of wine, over the nine hour trip to Rome, while he imbibed unimpeded. She glared at him every time he had a glass of champagne or wine.
"I hope you throw your guts up, Frank."
"If I do little princess, I will aim it at you."
"I knew you took the aisle seat for a reason."
"When I am with you, little princess, everything I do has a reason attached to it."
"Is it true what your mother said about you, Frank?"
"Do you remember what I said about lying?"
"Yes, I remember."
"That went for everyone, including my parents."
"So, your grades went down in high school, because you were as bad as Vincent was, or worse."
"I was probably worse than Vincent was in high school. I was an all-around jock: quarterback, star forward on the basketball team, and a pitcher on the baseball team. Girls came after me, like a river flowing down stream after a heavy rain. As my mother told you, she had to keep a time schedule for me, to keep me out of trouble with the girls.
"How come you did not get a scholarship?"
"My grades was so bad, they never thought I would be able to qualify to play."
Antonio laughed. "So, all play, and no work made Frank a dull boy?"
Frank did not laugh at her joke, but said, "I scored 1250 on the SATs and 30 on the ACT's, and that was still not enough to prove to them I could do college-level work. My reputation in school with the girls did not help me, either."
"So that is why you found your way into the Marines?"
"I had no other prospects, and I needed to do something with my life, so I decided to enlist."
"Yes, and wound up getting yourself blown up?"
"If you are going to be dumb, you have to be tough."
"That is not even close to being funny, Frank."
"I did not say it was funny; it is just a fact."
"How did it happen, Frank?"
"We were in the city of Kandahar. This particular area was supposed to be a very safe place, but we still had our guard up. Anyone and everybody wearing a dress all day, could pull out an automatic weapon, or be wearing a bomb, and could ruin your day quickly. We walked down a long alley, with a lot of civilian traffic and children playing everywhere. If any place ever looked safe, this was it. I stopped to speak with an elder, and my team moved forward a few meters to mingle with some adults and with the children, who were playing soccer. A moment later, someone yelled, "Grenades!" My marines dove for cover. Many civilians did not understand the warning, and died where they stood. Others tried to outrun the blast, to get to safety. Many people died that day. Ther were civilians: men, women, and children, plus eight of my marines, laying everywhere. Fifteen more civilians and four more of my soldiers and I were critically injured. My squad was wiped out. The enemy knew we were coming, and when we would be there. They picked the perfect spot to ambush us. We slowed down, to mingle with the locals, following the protocol handed down by the brass. My men paid dearly for stopping that day. When it was finally over, and I woke up in Germany, I was informed that I was the only survivor."
"I am so sorry Frank, I did not mean for you to have to relive such a painful memory."
"Antonia, it is okay. I relive that afternoon every day of my life." Frank closed his eyes, and moved his head back towards the headrest. He was trying to see the faces of his friends before they were blackened forever by death. The wounds he received that day in Afghanistan and had nothing to do with the wounds the Caruso's thought he was dealing with.
However, as he looked at the faces of his friends, as they passed by his minds eyes, they sapped him of life and energy faster than any physical exercise ever could. Without realizing it, Frank fell into a deep, and fretful sleep over which he had no control.
Antonia watched him, and could not believe the difference in this man. Awake; he was solid granite. Asleep, he looked like a drug addict coming down from a bad trip.
The steward asked if her friend was okay.
"I think he is reliving a bad episode from the war, in Afghanistan."
"If he needs anything, call me immediately."
"Blankets, please."
The warmth of the blankets seemed to help a little, and when Antonia took his hand, rubbed it along her cheek, and kissed his palm, Frank seemed to calm down.
Suspiciously, she looked upon his face. "If this is an act to see if I would kiss you, I'm going to stab you in your eyes."
Frank's demeanor did not change. She was holding his hand, and she did not feel any movement from him. His breathing remained the same and he was still pale. She adjusted her position and leaned her head on his shoulder, while moving her legs under her, and fell asleep.
