The courthouse wasn't that big of a building. It wasn't steel and glass like so many of the buildings in downtown Austin I was used to dealing with, but for some reason all I could do was stare at it. Cars were going by, birds were chirping, I heard someone laugh off in the distance, but all I could do was stare at the brick courthouse.

It was intimidating.

I mean, it was just a brick and mortar building, not even that big. Hell, probably not even that old. There were buildings on the ranch that had been there since before the Mexican/American War.

But staring at the court house, I was intimidated. It made the manila folder in my hand containing my corrected DD-214 (discharge papers) feel like it was heavy enough to pull my shoulder out of the socket.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Miss Lily-Rylee asked me.

"Um, nothing," I told her. I shuddered and stepped toward the courthouse.

"What kind of boots are those, Sam?" Lily-Rylee asked me, looping her arm in mine.

"Um, desert combat boots," I told her, walking up the steps.

"How come you were those instead of normal boots? They look pretty new," She said.

I just shrugged. "I'm used to them," I lied.

Pru didn't like me wearing combat boots

yeah? well she's dead and left me all alone

"Oh," was all she said.

We went in and went to the county record's office. We waited in line behind a couple of people who were turning in permit paperwork and the like. When we got to the front the heavyset woman looked me up and down, squinting slightly.

"How can I help you?" She asked, her voice a mixture of boredom and resignation.

"I need to file my DD-214 with the county," I told her. Old barracks rumor stated that it was because we were considered lethal weapons and could kill with our bare hands, but later I'd learned it was just to make sure that we could get our proper benefits.

She nodded as I pulled the form out. She stared at it for a long moment, her eyes widening slightly behind her old Buddy Holly style glasses. She looked up at me, then at the form, then back at me.

"Just a moment," she said, moving back into the cubicles.

"What's all that?" Miss Lily-Rylee asked, pointing at the awards sections.

I shrugged. "Just awards and badges I earned in the Army," I tapped my finger under one. "This is certifies I went to the Italian Airborne School and am allowed to wear the badge for it," I moved my finger, "This one certifies I went to British Paratrooper School and can wear the badge for it."

She nodded. "That's a lot of stuff."

I shrugged. "It was a different time and I was kind of a badge whore."

She slapped my arm, shushing me. "Don't use that language in here."

"At the time, part of your worth was the training you received," I tapped under another part. "I trained on Germany Army weapons, Norwegian weapon systems, I did all kinds of schools during the winter mostly."

She smiled. "Were you like a Green Beret or Special Forces or something?"

I didn't bother to correct her that she'd basically asked twice if I was the same kind of snake eater. I shook my head. "No. I worked with ammunition."

She touched where my primary and secondary military occupational specialties were listed. "This one says ammunition specialist, fifty-five bee," her finger moved up to my primary. "This one says... NBC field warfare specialist, fifty-five zee." She looked at me. "What's NBC?"

I shrugged. "Nuclear, biological, chemical. It was so I could supervise storage of those kinds of weapons. Nothing special."

we are the heralds of the four horsemen of the apocalypse

i wish you wouldn't take so much joy in the idea of burning the world

you don't get to say any more, you died and left me all alone

She nodded, biting her lower lip as she looked over the paper. "There's lots on this."

Again, I nodded. She looked at me. "That's a lot of Purple Hearts, Sam."

"Yeah, they were," I told her.

She surprised me by putting her arm around my waist and hugging me. "I'm glad you're all OK now," she looked at my face but I was a million miles away.

PUSH 'EM INTO THE SNOW!

YORKTOWN YORKTOWN YORKTOWN!

DANGER CLOSE FROM THE MIGHTY-MO IN FIFTEEN!

She leaned up, her lips brushing my ear, her breath hot as she gently exhaled into my ear. "Boobies."

I jerked, feeling myself blush, and she hugged me from the side again.

"Look at you blush, Texas," she giggled.

The hefty woman came back with a thin weedy guy with glasses and a balding scalp. She stepped to the side while the man bent over slightly, turning my DD-214 around and reading it. He looked up several times at me, then back to reading.

I tilted the manila envelope and let more paperwork slide out.

Award letters, training certifications, all the paperwork that certified that everything on the paper was honest and correct. Fort Hood had printed it all up for me with my new name, right down to the cream colored embossed award letters that go in frames.

He looked up. "Thank you, something like this should be verified," He said. He saw the VA Benefits Award Letter and moved it over, showing that there were copies underneath. I stood and watched as he counted how many of each award I had and compared it to my DD-214. Finally he straightened up, smiling. He held up the copy of the VA certification and the DD-214 and nodded to me.

"Do you still have your medals and awards," he glanced at the paper. "Sergeant English?"

I shook my head. "No."

He nodded. "Happens sometimes when you move. I'll file the paperwork to get replacements sent to you. The Department of Defense will supply one replacement free of charge."

Pru doesn't like your medals out

she died and left me alone, go away

"Thank you, sir," I said, and I meant it.

"I'll file these for you, Mister English," he said. He turned to the heavy-set woman. "Go ahead and give him the forms for the tax assayer's office, Henrietta."

She scowled slightly, but slid the paperwork over to me. When I glanced at it, I saw why someone working in the county courthouse would disapprove of the paperwork.

I was exempt from property tax,

I tapped the paper, "Excuse me, sir?" I asked. The man turned around.

"Yes?" He saw the paper. "Oh, that. Yes, it's customary to recognize the price some soldiers have had to pay," he glanced at the paperwork real quick, "And you, Sergeant First Class English, paid a heavy one indeed with a 140% combined total disability rating," he glanced again. "You have a notable number of Purple Hearts, gained in combat on several different continents at different times, and the State of Kentucky recognizes its debt."

I shook my head. "Not my question, sir," I was aware my Texas accent had thickened up. "These taxes, they pay for school for the little ones, school buses, roads, water purification, the salary of the people who make it all work, and the like, just like in Texas, yes?"

He nodded coolly. "Yes, Sergeant."

"Then I respectfully decline the State of Kentucky's generous offer to waive my taxes. My contribution buys textbooks and heats the classrooms in winter," I said. I shook my head. "I apologize if this offends you, sir, but the blood I shed doesn't discharge my duty to society or future generations."

His eyebrows had raised. "Are you sure, Sergeant English?"

I nodded. "I'm sure, sir. My disability pay is exempt from state and federal taxes, that's about all the exemption I can handle."

Miss Henrietta of the hefty frame was nodding, smiling slightly in approval as she pulled the waiver back.

"Very well, if you insist," the man said, still sounding surprised. He turned away and went back toward the cubicles.

Miss Henrietta slid two more pieces of paper in front of me. "This is voter registration, this registers you for jury duty."

I read them over, scribbled my name on the bottom.

"Anything else, Mister English?" Miss Henrietta asked me.

"Not that I can think of, ma'am," I smiled. She nodded and walked away with the paperwork. I gathered back up my paperwork, turned and headed back out of the courthouse, slapping the manila folder against my leg.

"Are you all right, Sam?" Miss Lily-Rylee asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Kind of embarrassing they made such a fuss over stuff that happened so long ago."

She just shrugged, walking with me toward the truck. "You're a strange man, Samuel."

I laughed. "Yeah. Life does that to you."

We got in the truck and as soon as she buckled up she uncapped my apple juice and held it out aggressively. I sighed, drank some, and handed it back. She capped and leaned back.

"I need to go to the cable company and the phone company," I told her.

"Cable company can do phone and internet both," she said. "Cable company's got better internet than the phone company," she gave a sigh. "A lot better. If you're going to play games, you're going to want the cable company's internet."

I backed out and she gave me directions. She seemed a little off, almost embarrassed by something as we drove to the office.

"Miss Lily-Rylee?" I asked.

She giggled. "It sounds so funny when you say it like that, Tex."

"What's the matter?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "It's stupid."

"I might not think so," I said, pulling into the parking space.

She didn't answer as we got out. I waited for her at the sidewalk, holding out my arm for her to loop hers into.

"Sam?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"How did you get the limp? I saw the surgical scars, but what happened?" She asked me.

I sighed. "I got shot through the top of the knee. Damaged the end of the femur. The Army repaired it, but it never worked right again."

"Oh," he voice was tiny. "Sounds like it hurt."

iraqi dirt in my mouth smoke in my sinus vomit pushing up from my stomach pain radiating from my knee cromwell's leg in the middle of my back as she bent over putting a pressure dressing on the wound bullets howling around us and the explosion of mortar rounds slamming into the administration buildings and the tarmac of the parkinglot and tony bellowing out stand and deliver and sawmoth screaming her life away her arm blown off and half her chest and the pounding of the m-60 against me as i kept firing as cromwell kept working on my leg and tony kept firing the fifty and the iraqis kept coming and coming and coming and

boobies

Her whisper into my ear jerked me out of the memory and back into standing on the sidewalk, in the warm July sunlight of Irvine, Kentucky, the taste of applejuice in my mouth and the feeling of my cheeks reddening.

"Hi again, Tex," she smiled, then blew softly in my ear. I shivered and her smile got wider. "Let's get you some internet and TV, Tex."

I nodded, wiping my suddenly dry mouth. When we went in I saw a vending machine and walked up to it, pulling a dollar our of my pocket. It took twice to get the machine to take it, but before I could choose anything Miss Lily-Rylee hit the button for bottled water.

"Here," She said, bending forward and grabbing it.

I could see down her collar, see those plump titties of hers swinging free under her t-shirt. When she straightened up, saw my blush, and giggled.

"See something you shouldn't been peeking at, Texas?" She asked, slapping the water in my hand. I blushed deeper and she laughed as she led me over to the customer service counter.

I was shocked that they could send someone out tomorrow. The lady behind the counter smiled when I told her I'd already run coax cable to the road and hooked it up to the house correctly. She told me that the cable technician would check it to make sure it worked, and if it did, I'd probably have everything in an hour or so once he got to work.

"Now, we offer several internet and phone packages," she told me. She ran through the options and I wasn't sure what to get.

Pru usually handles this

but she died and left me all alone

"Full phone package and top tier online," Miss Lily-Rylee said. I glanced at her and she winked. "I'm gonna teach him to play online games."

The woman nodded and I wondered what it was that passed between them as they both glanced at me and the other woman then nodded with a slight smile to Miss Lily-Rylee.

I paid the deposit with one of my brand new bank issued checks with my name all printed up and horses on it, thanked the lady, took my channel guide, and headed out.

"You play much video games, Samuel?" Miss Lily-Rylee asked me.

memories of playing video games with tony on his computers during those boring winter nights

I shook my head. "Not in a long time. I loved those text adventures."

She stopped, her arm looped around my arm bringing me to a stop. "You haven't played since text adventures?"

I shook my head. "No. Why?"

"X-Box? Playstation 2?" she asked me.

I frowned as we walked toward the truck. "What are those?"

She shook her head. "Jesus, Sam, have you been hiding under a rock for the last ten years?"

I flushed. "I guess. I mean, I worked, went home to my wife, repeat."

She frowned. "What did the two of you do for fun?" she asked me as she let go of me so we could go to different sides of the truck.

I thought for a moment on how to say it. Dinner at the Governor's Mansion or dining at the upscale Austin restaurants, dancing at balls and official galas and dinners. My schedule had been full of business deals, taking care of the Bomber Family Legacy.

I shrugged. "Um, read books, went dancing and to dinner. You know, the usual stuff," I told her once we got in the truck.

"You get online much?" She asked me as I polished off the last of the water in the bottle.

I shook my head. "Emails, you know. Checking a few stock prices before I cashed them in and left Texas," I half lied. "Other than that, not really."

She laughed. "Oh, Sam Sam Sam, do I have a world to show you," her grin got wicked and a little aggressive. "You, Sam, are going to learn what it means to get owned online."

The look I gave her, wondering what the hell she was talking about, made her laugh as she gave me directions.

"We're going to go Richmond. It's a half hour drive, but I think I need to take you to the mall, Tex," she laughed.

For some reason, her laugh made me nervous.