KANGAROO WALL

There was just enough room

between the single cinder block

outer wall and the single cinder

block wall of his villa for joe to

extend one arm and fold the

other at the elbow.

He remembered how, at Khobar,

there was a single line of waist-

high concrete barriers, a

high chain-link fence (they

hung netting from it and

practiced golf shots), and

about 15 feet of grass-

mottled yard between fence

and building. A succession of

commanders, and soldiers

who honed their swings.

For the first two weeks he

sleeps in the living room,

behind two additional walls,

with the couch cushions laid

on the floor and the

base flipped over in a

body-long inverted V. That

approach lasts a few nights.

Then it’s sleeping on the

couch a week or so. Next,

long tossing nights with the

outer room lights turned off,

heavy trucks passing or stopping

for long periods each night.

One night he finally lets go,

dreams of the Air Force Academy

blue course, mule deer mingling into

the background of evergreens, and

elk stepping forth in full-antlered

majesty. When he wakes the

next day, he lies a bit

longer in his bed against

the outer wall, promises himself he’ll

buy a Kangaroo golf cart

when he gets back,

you know, the kind that

you can put on autopilot

while you paint the sunset

of the eighth hole, the

mountains and kaleidoscope of

fading grays in your mind.

Three months later, Command gives

him his first chance to

leave the outer wall. He turns

them down for several months,

until he is finally ordered

to a new compound,

off the wall.