Prelude

 April, 2003, Ventura, California

"It’s Kevin I’m worried about, doctor," Pat Wells said firmly. "He hasn’t taken her death well at all. He’s just not the same kid he used to be."

"He’ll never be the same kid," Dr. Small said in a somber tone. "You’ve got to realize that, and accept it."

"If he hadn’t seen the body. . . . Oh, God! Why did he have to see the body?" Pat wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Dr. Small handed her a box of tissues. "I shouldn’t have gone out of town. This is all my fault."

Dr. Small leaned over and lifted Pat’s chin with his finger. He smiled warmly. "It isn’t your fault. These things happen. It’s a symptom of our society today. Kids experiment with drugs, they drink, they’d just as soon have sex as play a video game. It’s not like when we were kids."

"I know, I keep telling myself that. . . . But what about Kevin? He comes home from school and goes straight to his room. He won’t talk to anybody, he won’t eat. He’s losing weight, and God knows he doesn’t need to lose any more weight," she sobbed.

"It will take some time. The grieving process affects people differently. He’ll get over it eventually and get on with his life."

"But doctor, there are so many teenagers today, who . . . you know, who–" Pat struggled to keep her composure.

"Who what?"

"You know, who get depressed and–"

"Oh, you’re worried suicide?"

"Well, I don’t think he would, but–"

"Listen, Kevin is a smart, well adjusted kid. Sure, he’s experienced a tremendous loss. He loved his sister and it’s only natural that seeing her the way he did has traumatized him. But he will get over it, you’ve got to believe that. And when he does get over it, I think the only long term effect will be his level of maturity."

"What do you mean?"

"He’s going to realize now that life isn’t all fun and games. He’s seen the harsh reality of our human existence. . . . The bottom line is, he’ll be a much more mature, serious child."

"Well, that’s okay, isn’t it?"

"It is, except he may have trouble relating to his peers."

"Why?"

"Because many of his peers haven’t experienced what he has. Particularly in an affluent society, most children have been sheltered. The evil they’ve seen has been on TV or at the movies. It isn’t real to them. To Kevin, however, it will be all too real. He’ll worry about the consequences of his actions, whereas few teenagers today give that much thought."

"So, what can I do help him fit in?"

"Nothing. This is something he’ll have to learn to deal with. Just give him a lot of love and understanding. . . . And don’t blame yourself for what happened. That will only make things worse, for both of you."

"That may not be so easy, doctor."

He smiled and looked deeply into her sad eyes. "I know. It never is."

Five Years Later

Kevin Wells stared at the blackboard, barely cognizant of his surroundings. His mind was on fast forward, racing over the previous evening’s confrontation with Paula. He liked her. He liked her a lot. She was every high school boy’s wet dream–smart, sexy and sophisticated. And she all but dragged him to her bedroom door. That’s when the argument started. He was tempted, oh was he tempted. But he just couldn’t do it. Paula was popular–too popular. Just in the short time he had known her, she had been in several relationships. Each seemed inviolate, yet each crumbled like a doublewide in the path of a tornado. He wondered how he would face his friends at lunch. They wouldn’t understand. Nobody understood. They would ridicule him.

Sergeant Walters saw that Kevin wasn’t listening. He picked up an eraser and tossed it at him. Kevin never saw it coming and jumped when the eraser hit him in the chest. There was laughter from Kevin’s classmates.

"You see," Sergeant Walters said, picking up the eraser that had fallen to the floor, "Kevin wasn’t alert. He wasn’t concentrating on the task at hand. He let his mind wonder and, consequently, he was taken completely by surprise when this eraser unexpectedly came his way. Had he been alert he could have dealt with the situation quite easily. Had you been alert, Mr. Wells, what could you have done when you saw the eraser coming at you?"

"Ah, I could have caught it, deflected it or dodged it, Sergeant," Kevin said.

"Right—or you could have done nothing like you did and just let it bounce off you."

Kevin didn’t respond.

"What I’m getting at is—you must not only see potential danger but you must immediately execute an appropriate response. Let’s say that was a live grenade I tossed at Mr. Wells. If he hadn’t been daydreaming he would have seen it coming and would have a split second to immediately execute an appropriate response—Which would be, Mr. Wells?"

"Ah, . . . I suppose to catch it and throw it as far away as possible and then duck for cover."

"Good. And that decision would have to be made without hesitation. . . . Now in a combat situation the failure to be alert or the failure to immediately execute an appropriate response to a situation could be disastrous. Opportunities might be lost because of such failure, missions compromised and possibly even soldiers wounded or killed.

"When you are on duty as an officer of the United States Army, it is imperative that you are always alert–looking, watching and waiting for any hint of trouble. Only if you are totally aware of everything that is happening around you can you immediately effectuate an appropriate response. There is no room for the undisciplined mind in the United States Army. . . . You got that, Mr. Wells?" Sergeant Walters said.

"Yes, Sergeant," Kevin replied.

Sergeant Walters closed his textbook in conclusion of his lecture to third period ROTC. The classroom erupted in conversation in anticipation of the final bell. Kevin got up and grabbed his windbreaker. Embarrassed by being caught daydreaming, he avoided eye contact with his classmates. Despite what had happened, his thoughts were still on Paula and how she would react to him when she saw him. As much as he tried to stay focused on school work, he couldn’t do it. Most of the debate team ate together and Paula was sure to be there. As Kevin picked up his books, Sergeant Walters made a few announcements.

"Now that we've completed our martial arts instruction, on Monday we'll be starting on pugle sticks. I'll expect everyone to have read the instruction manual so we can get a fast start. Also, don't forget, your tactics papers are due Friday. . . . Oh, one more thing, we've been asked to provide a color guard on Thursday for the Caribbean Trade Conference. I'm going to need six volunteers. You'll get to miss all three morning periods."

A dozen cadets raised eager hands. Sergeant Walters smiled at all his enthusiastic volunteers.

"Okay. Stuart, Smalley, Peterson, Becker, Wells and Porter."

Kevin raised his fist and exclaimed, "All right!" then gave a high five to one of the other cadets who had been selected.

The lunch bell rang and everyone left the classroom. Kevin stepped into the flow of traffic heading for the door and plunged into the hot August afternoon. He cringed at the Texas heat as he walked briskly toward the Plano High School Cafeteria. He paused a moment before going in, reluctant to face the humiliation that surely awaited him. Finally he slipped inside, hesitating again, watching his friends from a distance. Oh shit. I can’t do this. I’m gonna just skip lunch today. . . . No, that won’t help. Eventually I’ll have to face them in debate class. Damn it! I might as well get it over with.

Taking a deep breath, he walked toward their table. When they saw him approaching, they quit talking.

Kevin smiled and said, "Hey, I can't believe it. I finally got lucky in ROTC class."

Brent glanced over at him coolly and said, "How’s that?"

"I finally got picked for a color guard. I never get picked. It’s a miracle."

"A color guard? You call that exciting?" Brent questioned.

"Yeah, you better believe it," he laughed. "I get out of class all morning. No Biology, no French."

Brent nodded. "Nice. So, what’s the occasion?"

"Some trade conference downtown."

"A trade conference? . . . That sounds pretty boring."

"Not nearly as boring as French."

"True, but it’ll be a pain catching up. You know what a bitch it is if you miss one frickin’ day in that class."

Kevin smiled. "I’ll borrow Paula’s notes."

Brent laughed. "Oh, really. After last night I doubt she’d call 911 if you were bleeding to death."

Brent’s comments stung Kevin. It was apparent he was not the only one with a fixation on the events of the previous night.

"What? That was nothing. Just a little difference in philosophy."

Brent snickered, "A difference in philosophy? Oh, I see–like communism vs. capitalism?"

Kevin rolled his eyes. "No, like promiscuity vs. abstinence."

"Abstinence? God, you are sick."

Kevin looked away. I can’t win this debate. Give it up. He stood up and said, "Man, I'm starving. I hope they're having something decent today."

"That would be a first," Brent replied.

Kevin got up and walked across the room to the snack bar. Glancing back he noticed Paula and Alice were joining Brent and the others. He was sure they were talking about him and wished he were a fly on the wall so he could overhear the conversation. He grabbed a sandwich, some chips and a can of Coke® and headed back to the group. They were laughing as he approached the table.

"Speak of the devil," Brent whispered. "Here he comes." They all quit talking.

Kevin looked anxiously at Paula. Her eyes were as cold as a Montana blizzard. She shook her head and looked away.

"Here comes the Virgin Harry," Alice said.

They all laughed.

Kevin gave them a quick artificial smile. "Thanks guys. I really appreciate the ridicule."

"Sorry," Alice said. "I couldn’t resist."

"Right," Kevin said shaking his head. "Hey, are we going to have practice tonight after school?"

"No. Tomorrow night," Brent noted.

"Good. I've got a paper due Friday. I'm going to be up all night."

"What's it on?" Paula asked matter-of-factly.

"Desert Warfare, from Rommel to Schwarzkopf," he responded.

"Oh, how fun," Paula said dryly.

Relief flooded over Kevin. Paula didn’t seem half as pissed as he had expected. He smiled. "It's fascinating actually."

"I bet. So I suppose you’ll be in the library tonight?"

"I’m afraid so. . . . Are you going to be there?"

"I don’t know."

"Hmm. . . . So, did your mother have a cow last night when she came home and saw the mess?" Kevin asked.

"No. I cleaned it up before she got home. Luckily, she didn't saunter in until after two. "

"Where was she?"

"She's got a new boyfriend. He's kind of cool. He works for EDS, some kind of computer genius or something. I think they went to Billy Bob's in Fort Worth."

"Well at least he'll keep your mother busy so she won't be bugging you all the time," Alice interjected.

"That’s true," Paula said.

"My parents are always on my case," Alice said. "I really envy you."

Kevin listened intently to Paula and Alice’s conversation but didn’t jump in. I have good parents. It wasn’t their fault. They’ve never–"

"What about your parents, Kevin?" Alice said looking him in the eye. "Do they give you a lot of shit?"

"No," he laughed. "Not really."

"You’re lucky. If my real dad was home that would be great, but he lives in Tulsa. I don't see him unless he happens to be driving through Dallas. My stepfather is an asshole. He takes great pleasure in humiliating me whenever possible."

"I guess I am lucky. My parents are cool."

"You’re damn lucky," Paula said. "I guess that's where you got your strong moral conscience."

Kevin shook his head. Oh, Jesus. It’s never going to end. "Hey, I'm not saying my philosophy is necessarily better than yours. It's just what I want for me, okay? I just hope you all can respect that."

"Hey, it's a free country," Brent said. "If you want to die a virgin, that’s your business. Personally, I’m going to hop as many chicks as I can while I’m young and robust. Life is too short to be wasting a lot of time chasing a fantasy."

"A fantasy?" Kevin said.

"Yeah, Kevin. I hate to break the news to you, old bud, but there aren’t any virgins out there. At least none that I’d be caught dead with."

Kevin stared at Brent not knowing how to reply. Paula raised her eyebrows and started to laugh. Luckily the bell rang, giving everyone an excuse to end the awkward encounter.

After school, Kevin went to the library to work on his paper. As he was passing the periodical section of the library, he noticed the daily newspaper. Now that he was going to be a participant, the headline about the Caribbean Trade Conference suddenly interested him. He picked up the paper and began to read the article.

Rapidly rising gasoline prices will provide added pressure for delegates to reach some kind of a free trade agreement at next week’s Caribbean Trade Conference. At their last semi-annual meeting, OPEC members agreed on reduced production quotas sending gasoline prices sharply upward. The American Automobile Association predicts prices this summer will reach three dollars a gallon in some parts of the country.

Last fall’s discovery of vast oil reserves near Trinidad-Tobago, spurred the US to propose a Caribbean Free Trade Association. Experts say the Cocos Bay reserves, as it has been named, contain more than five billion barrels of oil. Commerce Secretary William T. Sawyer will host the conference and the keynote speaker will be Ahmad Shah, the newly elected Prime Minister of Trinidad-Tobago, a small Caribbean island-nation, about the size of New Hampshire, located just north of Venezuela.

Commerce Secretary, William T. Sawyer, held a news conference on Monday and outlined the agenda for Thursday's Conference. He noted it was time for the nations of the Caribbean to eliminate all barriers to free trade. He cited the tremendous success of NAFTA and expressed his belief that a similar treaty for the Caribbean would be most advantageous. When asked about the strong opposition of the Cayman Islands to the proposed treaty, Secretary Sawyer indicated he had personally talked to the Cayman ambassador and was assured that they would come to the conference with an open mind.

The keynote speaker, Prime Minister Ahmad Shah of Trinidad-Tobago, in an interview in Port of Spain, predicted an historic accord would be reached at the conference.

Kevin put down the paper. He was about to leave when a pretty young girl stopped him. He didn't know her personally, but he did recognize her as a cheerleader.

"You're Kevin, right?"

"Yes."

"Hi, I'm Stacy Cox."

"Oh. . . . Hi."

"How's your paper coming?" Stacy asked.

"Slow, it's going to be a long night, I’m afraid." He frowned. "So, how did you know I was working on a paper?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? You've been poring through books and taking lots of notes all evening."

Kevin nodded. "Right."

She flashed a smile. Her eyes sparkled. "You're on the swim team, aren't you?"

Adrenalin flooded Kevin’s body. Stacy was a knockout and he was about to get KO’d. "Uh huh, and you're a cheerleader."

"How did you know that?"

"I've seen you perform," Kevin said brimming. "You'd be a hard person to forget."

"If that's a compliment, thank you."

"Just an observation. . . . Hey, didn't I see you at the last swim meet?"

"Yes, I watched you dive. You're very good."

"Thanks."

"Listen, Kevin. I heard through the grapevine that you were a virgin."

Kevin’s heart plummeted. "What?"

"I just wanted you to know, it’s okay. I'm a virgin too."

Kevin looked around suspiciously and smiled. Give me a break. Shaking his head, he said, "Okay, who told you I was a virgin?"

"It doesn't matter. We've found each other. The only two virgins in North Texas."

Kevin started to laugh, "Okay, is someone videotaping this?"

"I'm serious," Stacy said. "I was told you honestly believe in chastity before marriage."

"I do, but I think, . . . well actually, I know you're pulling my leg."

"Why is that?" she said indignantly, "You think you're the only moral human being at this school?"

"No, of course not, but–"

"Let's get to know each other, okay? Maybe something might happen between us. You know? The soul-mate thingy."

Kevin could barely contain his disgust, "Right, . . . sure."

Just then, there was laughter from the corner of the library. Kevin looked over and saw Brent, Alice and Paula laughing hysterically. He shook his head and looked back at Stacy who now too was laughing.

"You guys won't let up, will you?" Kevin said. "I don't have time for games tonight, okay? I've got a damn paper to do. Nice meeting you, Stacy. You'll make a fine actress someday."

Kevin gathered his stuff and left to a chorus of laughter. He didn’t look back. I wish I could tell them. Then they wouldn’t laugh. Damn it! I wish I could tell them. Kevin felt a knot in his stomach. He stopped a moment to ponder its cause. Then it hit him. He was worried about what Brent had said. What if he couldn't find his soul mate? What if she didn’t exist? . . . Was his search a futile endeavor? Was he crazy to even dream that in this day and age there could be a relationship built on love instead of sex, where a man and woman could be intoxicated with each other’s company without the need for booze or marijuana?

When Kevin reached his car, he opened the door and dropped into the driver’s seat. Taking a deep breath, he let his head fall back against the headrest. He felt dizzy so he closed his eyes. . . . In his mind, a door opened, a bright light blinded him. He raised his hand to shield himself from its intensity. There were voices, . . . questions, . . . strangers asking so many questions. He tossed and turned. "Why! Why! . . ." He didn’t know how long he dozed, but when he opened his eyes, tears were streaming down his cheeks. Wiping them away, he started the car and drove away.

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