We Don't Ride Horses in the Army Anymore

“Dad, this car really stinks!”

Lucy pinched her nose shut.

“Put on your mask. Open a window. Breathe through your mouth. Do all three,” answered her father.

“Who knew that empty beer and pop cans stink so bad? I mean, beer is stinky all the time, but Dr. Pepper? Now that’s ruined for me, too.”

“I’m sorry, Luce, but what could we do? No one was taking empties back since the pandemic until last week. I even had to get an appointment at Kroger for this. You saw me, jus’ hitting refresh refresh until I got in. It was like trying to get tickets for Comic-con.”

“You and Mom could’ve stopped drinking beer.”

“Right, and you and your brothers could’ve stopped drinking pop. Like that would ever happen.

“How many empties did you count, anyways?”

Lucy reached into her backpack, pulled out a small, black, leatherbound notebook, and flipped it open at the red ribbon.

“Well, Dad, I counted 455 cans. Huh, that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“You always buy six-packs. 455 is definitely not divisible by six.

“Oh, wait, you made beer-can chickens, that’s the other can.

“Anyway, 455 cans. Um, and 126 bottles. So, that’s 6 and 5, carry the one, okay, 581 empties going back.”

“Everyone’s a dime. How much cash then?” Ryan asked.

“Add a zero. Move the decimal point. Gosh, Dad.”

“So, 58 and 1o cents, right?” he asked.

“Yes, Dad.” <Disgusted sigh.>

“What can we do with 60 dollars?”

“Baconators! They’re six bucks, right? We buy 10 baconators, cut them in half, take them to my soccer game instead of orange slices. That’d be fun.”

“Yeah, fun. Fun to watch you guys barf up bacon minutes into the second half.”

“For after, Dad. Sheesh.”

“Yeah, and kids who don’t eat meat, kids who don’t eat cheese. Or bread…”

“Okay, fair point, Dad. Hey, Skullcandy has some cool wireless ear pods for, like $50.”

“That’s good for you, I guess, but, what’s in this for me?”

“You won’t have to listen to anymore K-pop.”

“Okay, fair point. But I was thinking maybe something bigger, you know, do something good…”

“SOCKS!”

“Socks?”

“Yeah, socks, like on that Bombas ad, homeless people and shelters, they all want socks. Let’s buy sixty bucks worth of socks!”

“Socks it is.”

Kroger was on the wrong side of a busy boulevard. Ryan and his daughter crawled and sat through two series’ of red lights; Ryan air-drummed occasionally to the Sirius yacht rock channel as Lucy tried to not watch and played with her tablet. As they neared the left- turn arrow, Lucy sat up and pointed towards the median.

“What’s up with him, Dad?”

Three car lengths ahead stood a man. A homeless man. He stood next to an overflowing shopping cart. A small, brownish-yellow pup, 20 lbs on a rainy day, sat placidly next to him.

His hair? Stringy, matted.

His beard? Same.

Clothes? Paint-spattered Carhartt bibs, a flannel shirt, a canvas work vest, and mis-matched hi-top Converse. A camo fatigue cap was worn against the September sun.

Around his neck hung a sign.

Homeless.

Army vet. Every bit helps.

God bless you.

The handwriting was neat, precise. The man stared at the ground.

“Dad, that’s so sad,” said Lucy. “You join the Army, you shouldn’t ever be homeless. Can’t they build, like, dorms for them?”

“They could, Luce. But they don’t. It’s easier to look away. Heck, pretend he doesn’t even exist.”

“Can’t we do something, Dad? Don’t you know someone that would hire him?”

“That’s not so easy, Luce. Lots of vets come back from war, all the killing and horrible stuff they saw, with mental issues. They can’t keep jobs. They need lots of help. Therapy, pills, right?”

“Well, that sucks. Can’t we do something?”

She was near tears.

“Dad, give him twenty dollars.”

Not a suggestion.

“When we get up there in a minute, reach into your wallet and give him cash. We gotta do something.”

“Hmm. Sure. Twenty, then.”

“Dad!”

“I’m right here, Luce.”

“Let’s give him the empties! He can cash ‘em in.”

She skimmed through her black notebook.

“We got almost $60 right here in the car. We were gonna buy socks, but let’s give that guy the all the cans!”

“That, madam, is brilliant.”

Ryan rolled slowly forward and rolled down his window.

“Hey, Mister!!!”

Lucy had leaned across Ryan’s lap.

“Yeah, Mister! Hey!”

He stood straight up, at attention. His eyes showed terror.

Ryan spoke, “Dude, It’s okay. My daughter didn’t mean to startle you. Listen, we got 60 bucks worth of empties in the car. You want ‘em? You could cash ‘em in at the Kroger right there. I’m appointment 714. Use my number.”

The Man smiled, showing a mouth with more spaces than teeth.

“You want, to give all your empties to, to me? Is this a trap? Am I on TV?”

“Nope, no trap,” piped Lucy. “We were gonna buy a buncha socks and drop them at the shelter, but we saw you and your dog, we’re wonderin’ if you could use the money instead.

“I mean, 60 bucks, Mister. That’s a lotta money. At least to me, but I’m only nine but, yeah, you want those empties?”

“Yes. Yes, I would like those empties. This is very, uh, gracious, generous of you. That’ll feed me and my Lucy here for a week. Thank-you. Thank-you so much.”

“My name’s Lucy, too.”

Ryan hit the flasher switch on his car, and popped the hatch. He jumped out the car, strode to the car’s rear, and grabbed three of the bags.

The Man grabbed the others. Together, the empties landed on the center median.

The light changed. The arrow flashed. Cars honked. Lucy started waving at the honkers.

Ryan held out his fist. The two men fist-bumped. As The Man headed back to his dog, he held out his fist towards the window and caught Ryan’s eye.

Ryan nodded.

The Man and Lucy fist-bumped through the window. Ryan waved at the cars behind him, and clambered into his Jeep.

They sat silently. Lucy scribbled in her black book.

The arrow turned green, Ryan turned left, and drove to the other end of the parking lot to head for home.

“Watcha writing there?”

“Oh, you know, my regular stuff, what’s going on. Like a journal.”

She read aloud, “September 14. Today, we did a good thing. All those empties I counted on the other page? We gave them to a homeless guy and his dog.”

“It was a good thing, right? I hear kids at school talking about homeless guys, they say they’re not really homeless, they beg because it’s easier than getting a real job, they have these guys who drive them around, tell them what to do and then take a big chunk of their money, it’s just a scam.

“It’s not a scam, is it, Dad?”

“Nope, not a scam. We did a good thing, Luce. You saw his teeth, I mean, who lets that happen if they had a choice, huh? And he got pretty close, you catch a whiff? He hadn’t had a shower in, well, who knows when? You tell me, Lucy Anthony, you’re pretty wise for a kid, was that a scam?”

“Nope, Dad. Not a scam. It makes me mad, that’s all.”

“Me, too, sweets. Me, too.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“None of us were wearing masks.”

“Whoops-a-daisy.”

Lucy reached into her backpack.

“Dad? Do you know how much I love you?”

“How much, kid?”

She handed him a bottle from her backpack.

“I’ll share my Purell with you.”

The orange and red leaves of September laid on the ground, nothing but bare limbs in view, when the doorbell rang at Ryan Anthony’s house.

“Da-a-a-d! Doorbell!”

“Phone’s on the kitchen counter,” Ryan shouted from the basement. “See who it is?”

“Holy crap, Dad, it’s the bottle guy! I recognize his dog. The Man’s out there with his Lucy!”

Ryan took the stairs two at a time. He looked at his phone.

“Well, damn,” Ryan said. “It really is him. Huh.”

The Man was standing on the Anthony porch. This time, his boots matched. He wore clean jeans, a blue jean shirt, and a fleece vest. His hair was still long, but it’d been cut. His beard was trimmed. Sure enough, Lucy sat quietly at his side.

Ryan put on his mask, and opened the door. Lucy stood back a step.

“Hey, how are you?” Ryan asked.

The Man put on a mask.

“Sorry I didn’t have my mask on. I wanted you to be able see who it was at your door. Listen, I wanted to thank you so…”

“Well, sure, no problem, glad to do it but how...”

“Did I find your place? Yeah, in the bottom of one of those bags of empties, I found your business card, so I got an Uber…”

“An Uber?”

“Yeah, things have gotten better so, I brought you guys something. Here.”

He thrust a paper bag into Ryan’s hand.

“Thank-you.”

“Well, you didn’t have to…” Ryan said, as he opened the bag.

There were stacks of bank-sealed fifties in the bag.

“What the …?” Ryan said.

“I asked for fifties. Twenty bundles of twenty. It’s all there. Just came from my bank.”

“Dad!!!” Lucy had pushed her way forward. She had her black notebook out. “Dad, that’s 20 thousand dollars!! That’s a lotta money.”

“Okay, before this gets any weirder, I need to know, this is legit, right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” he said. “My name is Raymond. My friends, back when I was in Afghanistan, they called me Glade. You?”

“Um, I’m Ryan. Glade?”

“Yeah, whenever I got a package from home, it always had an air freshener in it, so…”

“Glade.”

“Right.”

“Glade, can you catch me up a little? This is a crap-ton of cash. Why? And I gotta ask -Where?”

“I didn’t cash in all those empties. I bought 5 bucks worth of lotto. One of them won me 22 million. So, I figured, yeah, 20 large seemed like a nice thank-you. You’re okay with that, right?”

“Dad, we can buy a lotta socks for the shelter with that. And we can buy a buncha treats and stuff for the Animal Shelter, too, right? Can we?”

“Um, well, yeah, sure…”

Glade spoke, looking down at Lucy. “That’s pretty cool, to do that, but do some nice stuff for yourself, too, okay? You did nice stuff for me.

“I gotta go. Stoppin’ at Quizno’s and then, going to the dentist. Get these teeth fixed. Damn, I hated losing my teeth. Living on the street was okay, not much different from being in-country, but the teeth. Man.”

“What’d you do in the service?” Lucy asked.

“Cavalry, ma’am.”

“You rode horses in the Army? Dad, I wanna join the Army when I grow up!”

“Um, not horses, Lucy,” Glade said. “Helicopters. Helo gunner.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” said Lucy.

“Too sad. Watched my best friend slide right out the door. Didn’t bother to attach his harness lines, we banked a turn, he slid out, like he wanted to, 800 feet right down to the deck. That was bad, really bad. That’s when all this” <he gestured to himself> happened. I guess I never really told anyone about this before so…”

Tears started to roll down Lucy’s cheek. She looked at her Dad. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Sorry, Ryan. I shouldn’t have said that. Anyway…”

“No, it’s okay, Glade. War sucks. I mean, serving your country, sure, but watching your buddy die? Damn, dude.”

“Listen, Ryan. I gotta go. I’m getting my own place pretty soon. I’ll drop you my number when things get settled. You don’t have to call or anything, I’ll leave it all up to you, don’t wanna impose, you know, so, anyway…”

“We’ll call, won’t we, Dad?”

“Course we will. Glade’s our friend.”

“Hey, Ryan?”

“Yeah, Glade?”

“I just decided. Call me Raymond, okay. Not Glade? I’m not in the Army anymore.”