The Young Marine

Christmas 2005, the Young Marine
Copyright © 2006 Stephen J. Payne

Charlotte is a fan of Janet Evanovich who writes the Stephanie Plum detective series and I had learned that Evanovich was going to be in Tulsa, at the Borders Book Store to sign books (and probably sell more). Charlotte was overjoyed but skeptical that she would actually be able to meet the author; too many people, too busy, too much. But I knew it meant a lot to her so I was insistent that she try. I had learned an important lesson from the years that I was single and I phrased it this way: "The girl you don’t ask out isn't going with you anyway."

It was a sure thing that she would not see Janet Evanovich if she didn’t go so, early enough, we loaded up my cameras, lenses, photo lights and all of our Evanovich books (yes, I have some too), and set off for Tulsa. We arrived at Borders very early and yet found many people already waiting, as though they were expecting a rock star. Borders staff had set up a system and when we brought books in that we already owned, the books were labeled with a colored tape and we were assigned to a group. We had to line up then within that group. This Borders is a two story building and we found ourselves upstairs and far at the back and right next to the section on linguistics which was delightful to me. I love linguistics so I was able to start at the top shelf and work my way slowly down as I pulled out books on the English language, the sounds of the world’s languages, the History of the Spanish Language, morphemes, and the like. I was having a good time. Fortunately I already had a lot of those books which was keeping me from buying more because I was low on money and, of course, I did have to buy several copies of Janet Evanovich’s newest book; that was unavoidable. As I got to the bottom of the section and I moved to the top shelf next to it, I saw one book that caught my attention, not for me but as a gift for a young man. I did not know him. I had not met him. But I knew that he had just graduated from basic training at Camp Pendleton, California, United States Marine Corps, and was now on his way to sniper school. I didn’t know there was a school for snipers. The book that I was looking at was The Marine Bible, Holman Christian Standard Bible. It was in a box, leather bound and it was sealed and I couldn’t afford it. Yet, I had to see more of it, so I broke the seal and opened the book. I looked at the early pages and saw the standard beginning, like most bibles, and then I went to the index to see why it was a Marine Bible, what was different about it.. In the back were things that were just strictly Marine Corps: Poems written by great marines past, prayers from chaplains and many things specific to the Marine Corps. I put it carefully back into its cellophane wrapper, then back into the box and then back on the shelf, all the time thinking of the young marine. He was not only a new marine but a new husband. I wished that I could afford it for him. Our line moved slowly and after a bit, we had Janet Evanovich in sight, sitting at a table surrounded by staff and rule keepers: “No more than four books per person, please stay within your color coded group, have your tag ready with your name and what you want Janet to write, tags sticking out one inch.” We were closer then, just a few more feet and…I went back for the Bible. I couldn’t afford it but I was going to get it, somehow. It didn’t cost much but I had already made my commitment in other books and expenses and just didn’t have much left over and we had yet to have dinner. I took photographs of Charlotte and Janet Evanovich and I gave her a copy of a piece that I had written, A Son’s Farewell. I found some way to buy the Marines Bible and the next day, I took it to his aunt who got it to him just before he finished Sniper School and was sent to Iraq . Now and then I would get reports on him and his progress. He would call into the shop and he always mentioned the Bible and his aunt would tell me about it. Then he was home
from Iraq and Bartlesville had signs up, "Welcome Home Lance Corporal Jacob Fuller," and he was celebrated. Still, I never got to meet him. His aunt told me that he was here for Christmas but that he had to work at the Marine Recruiting Office as part of his price for being here. I went there on Thursday, December 29th and another Marine told me that I had just missed him but, try again tomorrow. Friday, I returned and the other young Marine told me that I had just missed him as he had left for lunch, but he had gone to the Subway and I might catch him there. I walked up to the young man that I knew from a photograph and said, softly “Jacob?” He looked at me, puzzled, his brow furrowed and I asked “Jacob Fuller?” “Yes,” he said, “I am Jacob.”
“I gave you the Marine Bible.” I told him.
He sat his drink and his sandwich down on the counter, turned to me and he put his hand out to shake my hand and then he stepped forward, put his arms around my shoulder and pulled me to him in a Marine hug, a tear forming in his eye. Something was in my eye too. That made my Christmas 2005.

Stephen