Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

 

The evening was fading to night which was usually the time for all good honest farm boys to go to bed. But Engineer was miles away from home, on a base in the middle of nowhere and nothing and the concerns of farm life felt foreign to him.  Normally he didn't feel homesick,  but talking on the phone with his cousin tonight about  the concerns of harvesting the corn and how the cows were going to be fed this winter reminded him just how far away home was. For the first time since his early college days he felt a cold clench in his stomach as he pictured the farm house back in Texas wishing for anything he was back there. With her.

 The topic then changed abruptly from cows to more...personal matters. "No, I don't think this'll blow over. You don't know her when she gets like this." the Texan muttered  into the phone lowering his voice when he heard  someone's nearby footsteps. RED didn't offer much privacy for anything and phone calls were no exception.  The company had provided them with a wall mounted phone in a corridor near the courtyard with not even a door or booth between the caller and the rest of the base.  To further shame whoever dared to have a personal life outside of their job the only light in the corridor was right above the phone shining down like a spot light.  He sighed thinking back on her words  "we've been married for ten years and I've only seen you half of that time, maybe less."

He rubbed his eyes, leaning  on the wall next to the phone  "L-Look Sam, I appreciate you talking to me, I know it's gettin' late for you. It's just been hard for me to get a chance to call you any earlier."

  Sam responded amicably, he understood, they must keep odd hours over there.  It was alright, they were family after all and if you couldn't rely on family who could you rely on?

The Texan shivered and glanced over his shoulder, he felt so exposed out here. He had delayed the call in the hope that at this hour there'd be less chance of someone overhearing him on the phone.  After all, this was his problem, his business,  and airing it out in public was something he wanted to avoid.  "I jus' wanted to..." he stumbled over his words a moment, collected himself,  and tried again  "jus' want you to keep an eye on things. On the farm.  Evie ain't gonna" he said softly, "She was talkin' bout movin' on, maybe to the city." He swallowed thickly remembering the last conversation he'd had with her over the phone.  Make up for wasted time, she had said, time wasted sitting around waiting for him to come home. "I've got the money to look after things, I- I jus' don' wanna see the place fall apart. Dad'd never forgive me."

  Sam said it was fine, he'd look after things, no need to worry. With that the pair said their good byes and the phone was hung up.

 The Texan trudged up the hallway. He could faintly hear the clamor from the mess hall. From the sound of things, someone, in all likelihood Scout, had interrupted one of Soldier's  war stories and the two would probably come to blows if someone didn't step in and separate them.  That was usually his job, but as it was he didn't feel like dealing with the other teammates, especially if it meant trying to talk those two blockheads into behaving like civilized folk.  Someone else could handle it this time he decided as he walked on to the living quarters.

A niggling voice reminded him he should be back in the workshop - he hadn't been in there for weeks, he should be working. There were repairs to be made - adjustments to the sentries to be done, his shot gun needed to be cleaned.  If he had any sense he'd be down there with a pot of coffee and back at those upgrades he'd started before....Grimacing, more memories flooding back, he unlocked his door and stepped inside, it didn't matter anyway.

The Engineer flicked on the light switch and kicked the door shut as the light bulb flickered into life flooding the room with a sickly light. Ignoring the unmade bed,  walking past the half open wardrobe spilling dirty clothes on the floor and the desk with all its clutter he sank into his desk chair. The man's gaze drifted over the rows of  photos and the offending holes in the collection. He'd taken down her photos but it hadn't really accomplished anything.  The blank spots on the wall were just another reminder. When he closed his eyes he could still picture her:  her smile, the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed, the constellations of freckles on her skin, her kisses, the way she'd hum to herself in the bath,  the way his name sounded on her tongue.

 Gone. 

She'd left him and was never coming back.

When this contract was over he'd take the first train out of here, away from all the gravel quarries and cacophonous gun shots, and go back to Texas.  And there would be no one there.   

Just him, and an empty house.

Turning away from the photos he noticed his guitar resting against the side of the wardrobe. Trying to clear his head and busy his hands he rose from the chair and picked it up.

The guitar felt good in his hands, reassuring. It was an old friend.  He had had it for years before he'd come here, before he'd gone to college, before he married Evie.  Now sitting back in his chair he clung to it like an anchor, his hands automatically tuning it and half heartedly beginning to pick out a song.  His fingers didn't fumble as they found the opening chords to the first song that came to mind.

"L-last Saturday night I got married" he sang softly to himself "Me and my wife settled down. " He swallowed before continuing   " N-now me and my w-wife are parted,  I'm gonna take me a little stroll down town." 

"Irene goodnight  Irene  goodnight, goodnight Irene goodnight Irene I kiss you in my dreams"  

"Sometimes I live in the country, sometimes I live in town." his fingers slipped missing the chords he had played countless times before as his tongue seemed to trip over the words, his throat tightened " S-sometimes I take a great notion to jump in the river and drown"

His voice sounded  thick to his ears,  "Irene goodnight Irene, Irene goodnight, goodnight Irene"   he swallowed trying to dislodge the lump in his throat  "G-goodnight Irene,   I kiss you in my... dreams."  The last choked words hung in the air as the guitar strings stilled and the Texan slumped in his chair as silence filled the room.