Occupations

"Hot again."

"That's how it gets here. Just keep yourself hydrated."

"It feels like a hand on your chest."

"Dry. Better than wet heat. Humidity where I come from, air seems so heavy you got to walk 'round bowlegged."

"That's Louisiana, right?"

"Just north of Red River, yeah. Hey, never did ask where you were from."

"Ohio. Just outside of Greenville."

"No shit? I figured you for a rez boy outta the Midwest."

"Too many John Wayne movies, man. We were all over the country."

"Yeah, yeah. Greenville. Fuck, that sounds familiar for some reason."

"Tecumseh. It was the birth place of Tecumseh."

"That's it! Years ago, in basic, I had a friend who was half Shawnee. Used to talk all about him and Blue Jacket and... the Canadian one. I think he had revolution on his mind. Shame he didn't make it back."

"IED?"

"Helicopter accident. Went into the Med during a training exercise."

"Brant."

"What?"

"Brant. The Canadian. Didn't you take any of this in school?"

"In Louisiana? Hell no. They don't like to even mention the slave trade parts of the Civil War, in case we start getting ideas."

"Ha. Figures. Hard enough getting anything that isn't wrapped up in the 'noble white man taming the land' crap."

"Least you got invaded. They ordered us like takeout."

"Yeah well. History's just to make them look good." He shrugged the strap of his machinegun higher up on his shoulder, although never took the barrel from pointing at the six men lying in the dusty road way, hands clasped behind their heads. They were only a few miles outside of Haditha, waiting for the rest of the convoy to catch up. "'cause who's really left to complain?"