Author's Note:
If you are looking for a fast read, with a lot of sex; move along, there is nothing for you to see here. If not, as always, I hope you enjoy it.
YDW
*****
"Come on Bandit, time to go to work." I said to my service dog Bandit as I took his vest out of the closet and headed to the living room. I had spent most of that entire early December morning chopping firewood and filling up the water containers inside the house getting ready for the onslaught of a massive winter storm that was sweeping down from Canada. Now it was time to go to town and buy the stuff I would need to last a week or more by myself in my cabin.
Bandit sat beside the fireplace, alert with his ears and eyes signaling that he was more than ready. His tail thumped excitedly on the floor of the living room and he was almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of having something to do today. When I am here at home, I feel safe and secure enough that I don't really need him, but when I go out in public, Bandit becomes my furry, four-legged, sidekick and companion.
I retired as an Infantryman from the Army after twenty-three years about five years ago with the rank of Master Sergeant. When I retired, at the relatively young age of forty I was a wreck, both physically and mentally. Three tours in Iraq and two in Afghanistan had taken their toll on my body and my mind. I didn't do anything sleek and sexy. I was never a Ranger or a Green Beret, I was just a grunt who walked the soles off more pairs of combat boots than I cared to think about. I sound like a bowl of Rice Crispies when I wake up in the morning, and I finally, with the help of the VA and a small support group of other veterans, am coming to grips with the effects of what living with Combat Related PTSD is going to be like.
The later had taken a toll on my marriage and my daughter and son. My ex needed stability and a stay at home husband; or at least one who stayed home more than half the time. My five tours had taken place over a ten-year period and that was too much stress and strain for her. Combine that stress with the fact that I was a twitching wreck by the start of my fifth tour and the marriage dissolved. My daughter was sixteen now and my son was twenty and I had been estranged from them for over six years because my ex had me declared a danger to them all during our divorce in 2011, shortly after I got home from my final tour. Even though I had already dropped my retirement packet, the damage was done. Honestly, that was probably the truth because back then, I was a danger to myself and everyone around me.
That is the biggest reason that I had Bandit. He would let me know when I was starting to have an anxiety attack before I knew I was having one. He was four now and had been with me for two years. It could be anxiety, depression or anger; it didn't matter because he could figure it out long before I could and when I saw him alert I knew to take a step back and figure out what was wrong. I had finally started slowly moving forward with my life because of him.
Today was one of the days where I had to go out and be around people and I really hated being around huge crowds, but the storm would be pushing through soon and hitting us hard for the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours. I really had to pick up a few essentials at Wally World to make sure I could get through the 8-10 inches of ice, snow and single digit temperatures that were in the forecast. The essentials in this case meant, bread, milk, toilet paper, a few cases of bottled water, maybe, maybe a twelve pack of beer and a lot of propane and kerosene, in case the power went out.
I live in a very rural area in the mountains of western Virginia. By rural I mean my nearest neighbor lives a mile and a half away and there are so many trees on my two hundred acers of property that for me to see the sun rise I would have to drive for two minutes to get a clear view of it. 'Town' is fifteen miles away over some very mountainous roads and has a population of just under six thousand. When it does snow up here the highway department doesn't scrape the roads, they just let it melt naturally so making sure you have what you need to get through a big storm is a necessary evil. If the power goes out, you can be living on propane for heating and cooking and kerosene lamps and candles for lighting for a week or more.
As we walked toward my old Jeep CJ7, I mutter a silent prayer that the store wouldn't be too crowded, and I could get in and out without any drama. Bandit and I were regulars there and most of the staff knew not to approach Bandit while he was wearing his vest; the other customers, not so much. Their reactions ranged from fear to amusement seeing a twenty-six inch tall, eighty-pound German Shepard on a leash in Wal-Mart. Even with a yellow vest that said, "SERVICE ANIMAL DO NOT APPROACH", people were constantly walking up and asking to pet him and some, if not most, would get miffed when I said, "Please don't."
As we pulled into the parking lot I realized that my worst fear had come true. The place was jam packed with last minute shoppers who were trying to beat the ice and snow. I sighed, grabbed shopping cart and headed in to the chaos that was Wal-Mart, on a Saturday afternoon. This was not going to be fun.
Walking by the entrance to the store I noticed what appeared to be a young woman standing near the door. She wasn't asking people for money or even remotely harassing the steady stream of customers going in and coming out in a rush. She was simply standing there with her jammed deep into the pockets of her jeans. She was wearing a light blue jacket, well-worn jeans and sneakers and what she had what appeared to be short blonde hair, peeking out of a pink beanie cap that was pulled down over her ears. She also appeared to be shivering somewhat, which wasn't surprising, because the temperature had already begun to drop, and I estimated that it was in the lower forties by now. Bandit cocked his head looking at her as we walked by; oddly, he even turned his head to look at her once as we walked passed. Trudging past the Salvation Army bell ringer, we stepped into retail Hell; and he became all business.
As we exited the store forty minutes later with our groceries and other stuff in the cart, she was still standing there. I walked past her and looking at her I noticed that she still wasn't making eye contact with anyone, she was just standing there shivering. I got a few feet past her and noticed that Bandit had turned his head back to look at her; only this time he whimpered. That's when I decided to stop and see what was going on.
"Hey." I said softly, not wanting to spook her.
She didn't answer and continued to look down at the ground.
"Look I know this sounds awkward," I said approaching her slowly, "but, if you are in some kind of trouble, maybe I can help. Seriously, If I can't, I know plenty of people in town that can."
She glanced up at me and when I saw her eyes. They were a vivid shade of blue, but I couldn't help but notice that they looked far more tired than mine did on my worse day. They were almost dead; she looked up at me like a puppy that had been abused its entire life. It was sad considering that she had a very pretty face and only looked to be, maybe, twenty-five at the most.
"I'm okay."
"Uh huh. Let me guess, you stand here until you can't take the cold anymore and then you duck inside for a few minutes to warm up."
"What's it to you if I do?" she said defiantly, her eyes flashing angrily at me.
"Well, if you haven't heard there is a hell of a storm on the way and that jacket isn't going to protect you much when the temperature drops to single digits tomorrow afternoon. But, I know of a church just up the road that operates a woman's shelter and they might have room for you for a few days. I can call and ask them if, you'd like."
I could tell she had some sort of retort on her lips when Bandit raised his right paw and then sat it back down on the ground whining. That was an alert for anxiety but given my current surroundings I didn't know if it was the young lady in front of me or if I was the one who was beginning to have problems. She glanced down at him, almost smiling so, I paused for a moment and then grinned at her.
"This is Bandit, be careful, he's a real ladies man. My name is Sam, Sam Williams. So, do you want me to call the shelter and see if they have room?"
Before she could answer I heard a voice behind me say, "Sir? Is she bothering you?" I turned to see a kid not much older than she was standing there with his arms folded across his chest. He was wearing a nametag that said 'Mike' and below that 'Loss Prevention'.
"No, I've got it." I said looking at him as the girl shrunk back and tried to get small.
"Okay but if,"
"I said I've got it son. Don't make me say it again." I responded a lot more firmly than I should have.
Wal-Mart's version of Paul Blart looked at my face for a few seconds and then trying to put as much distance as he could between the two of us, he almost sprinted across the parking lot.
I looked back to the girl and still couldn't read her emotions. I couldn't tell if she was angry or relieved that the LP guy had left us standing there alone. Just then, Mother Nature decided the issue for her and it started to mist a light, but very cold rain. Bandit sat there looking back and forth between us and then he leaned against my leg. Again, it was another alert that someone's anxiety level was on the rise.
"So. Stand here, cold, wet and miserable or go someplace warm and safe and dry? It's your call."
"Why?"
