When the bullet hits the bone

He jumps in his truck, after hanging out with his dad for a couple of hours on a lazy Sunday. He backs it up into his neighbors drive way, looks left looks right, all clear he pulls out. Screeching tires.

Two teenage kids blow past the front end of his truck. As this happens he shakes his head. The passenger of the other vehicle leans out and throws him the bird as the fly past. Little kids down range from them are playing basketball and these guys are doing 40MPH in their direction.

The mental jet engine fires. The adrenal courses violently through the veins almost as angrily as his mind descends into darkness. The gear selector drops into D and his tires are now the ones squealing as his V8 engine comes to life and aims itself like a missile for the back of their hoopty.

They slam on the brakes like a challenge. He is out of his vehicle in under a second. The MP habit makes him put a thumb print on the trunk in case they draw on him. The driver door starts to open. He kicks it shut and in the most angry psuedo-clint eastwood voice grumbles sit down boy. The driver addresses him as sir, which immediately softens his tone. He politely says hey kid you need to slow down, your in a neighborhood. The rowdy one in the passenger seat, proceeds to cuss him out. The man politely tells the kid, to settle down. The boy replies f#$% you I will kick your ass. The man, replies, I have killed for less boy step outside and the only thing you will kick is the f#$%ing bucket. Watch your mouth or someone is going to show you just how soft and pathetic you are. Back to the other kid, slow down and pick better friends. The passenger says some other stuff. The man replies you are real tough inside your car, I am out here, waiting.

As he is walking back to his truck the passenger jumps out. Blood red, the pain generating machine is wide open. The man turns around, that calm demeanor is gone. Its time for combat, this kid just signed his own death warrant. The voice that yells at the kid, disturbs even the man himself. It is not a warning, it is not a threat, its begging. Begging for the kid to touch him, to make one move. It laughs at the kids that its been too long since its killed a person and that killing his dumbass would almost not even count cause it would be a service to humanity. Come on, kid! You are out of the car, come on, do it, commit suicide, all the cool kids are doing it! Whats the matter you scared you fing coward.

Sensing the fear in the kid and the sudden trepidation of action upon realizing that he was dealing with a psychopath hidden in a calm 5 foot 7 inch frame. The man told the kid, to get in his car and drive off. The boy replies stupidly, why you scared. The man replied, yes, I am terrified that I am going to beat you to death, I mean it not as a threat, I am begging you get in your car. The unspoken words: I don’t want your parents to bury you over nothing. Common sense or boredom prevailed he shot the bird one final time to solidify to his buddy that he was the merciful one not the man standing there with blood rage running through his veins with visions of tearing the kids throat clear out. And when it was over, the man felt nothing but shame. They were 16 or 17 they are young and dumb, whats his excuse. This is just like the bar fights and the wild nights. This is just like the road rage and the hate. This is not the way he is supposed to be after going to war, he is supposed to be the greatest advocate of peace, not the stark raving mad rabid psycho lurking beneath the surface, genuinely enjoying the promise of combat.

Obviously, I had an interesting experience this weekend. I undid a year of progress in less than a second. I also almost ended everything I have worked towards and for in less than a minute. Amazing how I think I have a grip on it and some stupid kid, blows it all to hell and almost lands my ass on CNN for breaking a kids neck in the middle of a quite suburban neighborhood. STUPID.

I would not be the first to do something incredibly stupid out of the oef/oif vets. I was lucky and things calmed down. It took me nearly 3 hours to come down from the unresolved rage and adrenaline. I was ready for war because a novice driver made a silly mistake and his buddy acted like a teenage boy. Seriously, how pathetic does it get. I am not a peaceful man, never have been. I will stand for what I believe in and fight for it just as quick. That doesn’t mean I should be walking around like a UXO waiting to pop in the unsuspecting person that kicks the can over.

The thing that shocked me was the anger. I haven’t been that mad since some of those nights in numaniyah after my friends were wounded. How in the hell does that kind of anger find its way to a suburban neighborhood.

Woosa…. this is the reason I don’t carry a gun in my truck.


2 responses to “When the bullet hits the bone

  • Lawman

    Brother, I can relate. I am afraid to drive sometimes because of how this reaction overtakes me. Often it’s not even directed at some poor fool. It can just be surrounded by trucks, “trapped in the kill zone” of rush hour, or seeing someone walking over an overpass. You describe things so vividly. Thanks for putting this out there.

  • RJ

    Man I really know where you are comming from with this. I have so much anger inside and I have no clue where it came from. Mostly though I worry more about how it escapes. I was doing a good job keeping it bottled up and not letting it affect my life but in the last 4 or 5 months there is no control of it. It gets so bad that I will spend a week or so not talking to anyone or doing anything but sitting around my apartment, all out of fear that I’m going to let it boil over on someone for no real reason at all.

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