Free Blue Stars by Emily Gray Tedrowe

him? Was there a blanket party?” To her mom, she explained, “That’s when they pin the guy down and beat him with—”
    “Jeannie.”
    Tom and Mike just laughed. Whatever they had done or seen done in training they wouldn’t be describing here, at the dinner table with their families in a bunting-swathed room called Chesty Puller Hall. Ellen couldn’t help but be happy, hearing Mike joke around with skinny, amiable Tom—it was clear they were good friends. She’d never met one of Mike’s friends before, but she knew this relaxed goofy manner: it was how he was with Wes. But still, she didn’t like the way his experience, their secrets together, separated him from her. Already today she’d been referred to as a “civilian” one too many times.
    “Want to go find Crum? See if his girl showed?” Tom asked. Mike looked at Ellen; she nodded. The boys crossed the room together. Tom said something that made Mike rock his head back, clap sharply.
    Tom’s mother scooted her chair next to Ellen’s. She too had been watching them go. “Never thought I’d be here doing this,” she said. “Last time he wore a uniform it was Cub Scouts.”
    Ellen smiled.
    “All right, now don’t judge me but…” The woman opened her purse to show Ellen—inside, a flask-size bottle of Maker’s Mark. “I was thinking of making my tea into a hot toddy. Will you join us?”
    “With pleasure. But will we end up in the brig?”
    “They’ve got bigger problems than two moms who could really use a drink. I’m Grace, by the way.”
    “Ellen.” She pushed her cup closer, thankful for the generous slug of whiskey Grace neatly tipped into it. It was nice to be with a family. The two women clinked mugs, and Ellen felt her shoulders loosen for the first time since touching down in Georgia. She also let Grace’s “two moms” pass without comment, an omission she couldn’t remember making before.
    With that, the two women began to talk, and after mutually testing the waters, started a real conversation about their doubts and fears. Grace, a dance teacher in Connecticut, admitted in a whisper that she was a registered member of the Green Party. Ellen described a few of Serena’s more controversial actions, one involving an effigy of Donald Rumsfeld. She even acknowledged being there. Another round from the purse flask, and they were talking about how dumb the broad-brimmed drill instructor hats were, how much they hated “oo-rah,” and how annoyingly proud the guys were of having cleaned toilets and made beds.
    “Okay, here’s a joke,” Grace said, leaning in toward Ellen and her husband. “An Army Ranger is stationed in Louisiana, and really wants a pair of these fancy alligator shoes he sees everywhere. But in all the stores, they’re priced way out of his range—five, six hundred dollars. So in frustration he says to one of the shopkeepers, ‘Maybe I’ll just go over to the swamp and kill one of those suckers myself, make my own damn shoes.’ Shopkeeper says, ‘Be my guest—maybe you’ll run into these two Marines who were in here today saying the same thing.’
    “So the Ranger gets down to the river, swamp, whatever … he’s standing onshore and sure enough, he does see two Marines there, up to their thighs in swamp water.”
    “How does he know they’re Marines?” Tom’s father asked.
    “Because it’s a joke, and he just does.” Grace pushed her hair back and made a face. “Anyway, as he’s watching, a giant gator comes slowly swimming toward the Marines. One of them grabs it by the throat, strangles it to death with one hand, and easily tosses it out of the water and up onshore. They flip it on its back. Lying next to it, the Army Ranger realizes, are several other of the huge creatures.
    “‘Goddamn it all to hell,’ one of the Marines says. ‘This fucker ain’t wearing any shoes either!’”
    Tom’s father’s laugh rose above the rest of the table’s in a short, sharp blast. Ellen thought