The Education of Caraline

I realized that if there was going to be a food drop, then there might well be mail, too. I decided I’d keep my promise to Sebastian and write him a letter.

Thankfully, the day passed far less eventfully than the previous one. I wasn’t sent out with Sebastian, but accompanied Lieutenant Crawley and a cheerful Afghan interpreter called Gawhar, who told me his name meant ‘jewel’. He was fascinated by the fact that I wasn’t married and didn’t have children. He kept asking who was ‘in charge’ of me. He couldn’t comprehend my answer of ‘no one’. I wouldn’t like to imagine how puzzled he’d be if he ever met a woman officer with men under her command. I hoped my presence gave him another point of view, at the very least.

Gawhar thought women should be educated “up to the age of 11”, so that they could be more useful in childrearing. At one time, women in Afghanistan had been able to go to college, but now anyone attempting to educate girls was living very dangerously. Gawhar’s attitude was relatively liberal, compared to many.

I sighed. That poor country had a long way to go.

Our patrol was the first one back at the compound. Grant had confirmed that a food drop would be happening soon, so each Marine could have a one-minute shower with what was left from the water ration. Soon, there was an awful lot of naked flesh on display. I was glad I had a pair of sunglasses behind which to hide my blushes – or maybe it was my interest that I was hiding. I’d never used to pay much attention to that sort of thing, even though I lived by a beach. Huh, I blamed Sebastian.

I headed back to my room and started typing up notes and polishing a couple of articles that were almost ready to go. I was pleased with the photographs, too. The ones from the previous day were particularly dramatic, although looking at them brought back some of the knee-trembling terror that I’d felt.

After an hour of typing, I flipped shut the laptop lid, and sat outside to write an old-fashioned pen-and-paper letter to Sebastian. I was determined that if mail did arrive soon, he’d have a letter to open. I spent my time being creative: he said he wanted to get kinky with me, so I roughed out some ideas, to see if any of them were on his ‘to do’ list. It was a shame our time and space was so limited right now: I wanted to show him what a formerly-sexually-frustrated forty-year-old with a good vocabulary could imagine.

Sebastian’s patrol was the last to return to the compound. Even from a distance, I could see that his face was strained. He glanced over to where I was sitting, and shook his head imperceptibly.

A few minutes later he emerged from Grant’s makeshift office, and strode over to me.

“Captain Grant would like to see you, ma’am,” he said formally.

I followed him across the compound, feeling anxious as he pressed his lips together in a hard line.

Grant’s office seemed gloomy after the punishing sunlight; he waved me to the only other chair in the room and Sebastian stood silently behind me.

“Ms. Venzi, your presence is causing some interest among the local population. Chief Hunter heard some talk while on patrol that concerned him.”

I glanced up at Sebastian who remained resolutely mute.

“And what does this talk say?” I prompted.

“At the moment it’s vague, but the news of having a woman with us will spread quickly now. We have a new cook and a new medic arriving in six days, so the heli will be putting down briefly. If you become a person of interest, as I think you will, you’ll be at risk and you’ll be putting my men at risk, too. I want you on that flight, Ms. Venzi.”

I felt like he’d punched me, and all the air left my lungs. But I understood, as well. He was making a strategic decision. He hadn’t tried to persuade or softball me; he just told it like it was.

Jane Harvey-Berrick's books