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Military Daze Part 1

I’m telling you, man, there’s something going on in this place. It’s just not normal! Everyone looks and acts like everybody else, and it’s really starting to freak me out. I feel like I’m being watched wherever I go. And since it’s summer, that gives my COs even more time to breathe down my neck. My TAC officer keeps appearing in just about every hiding spot I try. It’s like they’ve got a tracker or something on me. They’ve been running me ragged with those exercises, and my back is killing me from all the cleaning assignments. On the plus side, who knew I could actually piss them off enough to get them to pull out the old tooth brush trick? On the down side, who knew cleaning would be so ****ing hard with just a toothbrush? It’s like my head barely hits the pillow and I’m suddenly waking up bright and early to morning taps reveille. It’s worth it, though. I won’t let them break me. I won’t let them mold me into a perfect cadet. I won’t let them play with me, like some doll. I’m ... I’m not a doll. I’m not. I’m Ken. I’m ... I’m just Ken. Just--. Shit Shoot. TAC officer just walked in. Abe, whatever you do, don’t stop sending me emails. Remind me who I am. ... Please. I’m Kendall Rogers. Prankster, fun-lover, rebel. I’m Kendall Rogers. I am not a doll. I am Kendall Rogers. I am Kendall Rogers. I am Kendoll Rogers. Kendoll Ken doll Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

You sigh as you look up from the journal you’ve compiled. That had been the last email you’d received from your friend, but showing it to anyone else would have been a pointless endeavor. It would be put down as a prank Kendall was pulling to get out of trouble and try to diminish the academy’s reputation. After the last incident, most of the adults had given up on him. You knew him better than most, though. He actually sounded scared, and Kendall never allowed himself to show fear, even if he felt it. For him to open up like this, to actually admit he was getting “freak[ed] ... out,” something had to be wrong. ... It had to. Ken wouldn’t pull a stunt like that with you. He wouldn’t. ... Would he? You groan as you close the book’s cover and plop your arms on the desk to hold your forehead in your hands. You and the others tried your best to keep his memory alive, but without Kendall around, it just ... wasn’t fun anymore. You missed Ken. You all did. The others wanted their leader back. They were almost listless without their fearless commander pushing onward into the next adventure, heedless of the dangers, dauntless to the end. You? You just wanted your friend back. Unfortunately, you had the sneaking suspicion that may never happen. That last letter had been sent a month ago. You hadn’t received a reply since, but you honored his request to keep writing, all the same. You sighed again as the summer sun filtered through the window overhead to bathe you in its warmth. “Damn it, Kendall, what happened to you?” you mutter. And then the doorbell rang.

Military Daze Part 2

You were surprised to see a tall, imposing man in military fatigues, jacket, and patrol cap standing at the door as he handed an envelope to your mother. “Ah, and this must be Abraham,” he noted as he looked over your mother’s shoulder to where you stood. “Kendall’s told me a lot about you.” “Mom, what’s going on?” you ask as you look cautiously between the two adults. “Nothing serious,” the man said with a shrug. “I’m Colonel Anderson, a representative of United Armed Forces Military Academy. I just came to alert your mother that your name was submitted and subsequently selected to receive full scholarship to attend at our prep school, should you so desire.” “I don’t recall entering any contests,” you noted suspiciously. “The contest is actually run via student recommendation, and is restricted to grades nine through twelve. Students are even allowed to submit their own names, should they feel so inclined. I would assume Private Rogers wanted to give you the opportunity to join him. As I’m sure you are, doubtless, aware, he has had ... difficulty making friends among his peers in the academy. We asked him to send word in advance of my arrival. At the very least, you would have received official notice of my coming from the school. Didn’t you get either email?” “I usually only open my inbox to send him my emails. I haven’t herd from him in weeks, and I don’t check my spam box.” “That explains it, then,” the Colonel said with a decisive nod. “The details and requirements for the scholarship are included in the envelope and email. Just remove it from the spam box and you can take care of all the details online, should you prefer to take that route. Please alert us as soon as you reach your decision. Should you not choose to attend, we’ll need to re-draw to offer the scholarship to another.” He pulled out a card from one of the twin tilted chest pockets on his jacket and handed it to your mother. “This has my personal number on it, along with the main office’s, should you have any other questions.” With that said and done, he clicked his heels together and struck a sharp salute. “Ma’am, Abe,” he said by way of farewell, then promptly turned and strode towards a Hummer that had been parked at the curb a few houses down. Your mother frowned as she regarded the plain white envelope and shiny card with suspicion. Then she closed the door and turned to face you. “I think I’m going to have a talk with Mister Rogers about all this,” she said cautiously. “Why don’t you check your inbox and see if you can’t find those emails he mentioned?” You nod decisively, then are up the stairs faster than your mother can track you, leaping two at a time with your long legs. Your heart races as you stomp across the second floor and slam your room’s door shut. “Young man, how many times have I told you not to slam that door?” your mother shouts. “Sorry, Mom!” you shout back through the wood, even as you plant yourself hastily in your swiveling computer chair and activate the tower at your side. “Come on. Come on,” you mutter as the system begins to boot up. After what felt like an eternity, the desktop is ready to go, and you quickly access your email. There it was, practically screaming in your face. From: Kendall Rogers Subject: Congratulations! Your mouth goes dry as you hover the mouse over the tab. One click, and you’d finally be able to hear from him again, after all this time. One click. Just one click. You don’t understand why it’s so hard to breathe, why you feel such anxiety over the message. If anything, you should be enraged he hasn’t said anything for at least a month. You close your eyes and force yourself to take a few calming breaths. Once your heart beat is steady again, you look back to the tab. This time, you don’t hesitate. You click the email.

Military Daze Part 3

Hey, Abe,

Everything’s been going pretty well here. Sorry for scaring you. Lots of exercise, classwork, and fulfilling disciplinary requirements have taken up so much of my time. Please, forgive me for my inconsideration. A close friend shouldn’t have to suffer like that. Your letters have been a great help to me, when dealing with my homesickness, but I still miss hanging out with you and the guys. That’s why I entered your name into this contest at school. See, it gives the winner a chance at a full scholarship. Room, board, the whole thing. The school rakes in enough money from all the other attendees that they can afford to let a few people attend free each year. Anyways, I put your name in, because, well, I miss you, man, and turns out it got chosen. I was totally floored. Please, tell me you’ll come. It’ll be like old times. Military life isn’t so bad, really, once you get used to it. And if you do well here, you get a big boost for college applications. It’s a big step for our futures, ya know? Even if you don’t want to come, I really do want to keep in contact with you. But please, make sure to respond as soon as you can. The school should’ve sent you an email, too, with all the details. If you wait too long, then you’ll lose the opportunity, and I won’t get to see you for at least another half a year. Please, Abe, say you’ll come, at least for one semester. I miss you. Sincerely, Private Kendall Rogers P.S. Sorry if there are any formatting errors in the letter. I’m still learning how to employ proper grammar. My  You blink in utter shock. Some parts of the letter sounded like Kendall, well enough, but others were just so ... formal. Just what were they doing to your friend over there? You furrow your brows in suspicion. Would you even recognize him anymore, at this rate? Or could someone have been ghost writing, pretending to be him? You shake your head. No, that’s not right. That would be nothing more than a conspiracy theory. Something else was going on. You narrow your eyes as you pore over the letter again. Eventually, the rest on the post script. Kendall always hated class of any kind, especially English, so why would he make a specific note to formatting errors? Fortunately for you, his hate of English was your love. It took you forever to even get the guy to concede to listening to recorded books, but you eventually got him at least a little into the spirit. Not enough to put effort into his writing, mind, but enough to make it so he didn’t hate books anymore. As you scanned over the document, you could see no errors in capitalization or punctuation, so it had to be something else in the letter. As you look over each of the paragraphs, you notice the varying lengths, comparing the short first two to the much longer third, fourth, and fifth. ... Length. You tap your chin as you recall the principle hammered into you from your youth. A proper paragraph should be at least three sentences in length, and even then, it’s preferable to keep it closer to five. So, why would he keep everything so short in the beginning? You take a closer look at the paragraphs. The sentences all seemed innocuous enough. Again, there were no errors involved. The letter was set to a formal header, with all the paragraphs lined up to the far left margin and no indentation. It was actually kind of funny. When you lined up the first three paragraphs, including the greeting, the letters formed HEL. You then looked down at the third paragraph. P. H-E-L-P. HELP. Help. Could it be? “An acrostic?” you pondered. It was a simple matter to link the other two letters from the last paragraphs. Help Me. “Shit,” you swore. Your heart rate picked up again. Your breathing became shallow. You wanted to get up and report this to someone, anyone, but you knew better than that. If this academy was doing something to your friend, you’d need real proof of wrongdoing, before you could convince anyone of the fact. This was the kind of thing that would get you laughed out of the station faster than you could present it. After you get yourself under control, you start your reply. Subject: RE: Congratulations! Dear Kendall, I got your message. Still, before I choose to accept, though, I need to ask a few things. 1. Is it all right for me to bring my equipment with me? You know how much I enjoy my film and photography.... You composed your reply very carefully to ensure it would fit the standards and evade possibility of detection. That being said, if there really was something off at this school, it was likely they would be able to see through your coded messages. Acrostics were a fairly simple coding system, after all. You would need to go prepared, if you went at all. Once you sent your reply with your list of “follow-up questions,” you turned to your next order of business. You quickly made your way to your spam folder and authorized the message from the academy. If you were going to do this, you would need all the information you could find on the place. Even then, ... you weren’t sure you would be ready.