Helmeppo woke up that morning cranky, achy, stuffy, sneezy, scratchy, sleepy, weak and in pain. His first thought was that he must be dying.
“Agg, Koby!” he shouted, shaking his best friend, who was asleep next to him.
“What?” Koby jolted awake and rolled away, eyes darting around. “Where’s the goose?”
“Dere’re do geezez, Koby,” Helmeppo answered. “Loog’d be! I’b dyig!”
Koby blinked a few times and looked at him. “You’re dying?” he asked.
“Yez!” Helmeppo answered, wringing his hands in panic.
Koby raised his eyebrows skeptically. “What makes you think that?” he said. Helmeppo glared at him. Couldn’t he see this was a matter of life or death? A little urgency would be appreciated!
“Well,” he said, “by trote hurts.”
“Mmhm.”
“Ad I cad breed trew by doze.”
“Mmhm.”
“Ad by skid feelz like sumbud graded id wid a cheez grader.”
“Come over here,” Koby ordered, rolling up the sleeve of his nightshirt.
“Do! You’d azg a dyigu bad to boove? I dot you bere by fred, Koby!”
“If you can nearly shake my teeth out, I’m sure you can roll over to me.”
Helmeppo laid back on his sleeping pallet and moaned piteously. That had always worked on his father. For the first ten years, at least. Koby sighed. “All right,” he said, crossing the three foot of space that separated them. He pressed his wrist against Helmeppo’s forehead.
“Owwww!” Helmeppo yelped.
“What is it now?”
“Eben by hair hurts! I bust be dyig!”
“Well, you do have a fever,” Koby said, withdrawing his hand and stretching a little, “but I don’t think you’re gonna be kicking the bucket anytime soon.” He stood up and padded over to the small bucket of water that served as their sink. As “pre-trainees,” they weren’t housed in the regular barracks, and thus didn’t have access to the bathing facilities the rest of the crew enjoyed. “You have a cold, Helmeppo. That’s all.” He took off his shirt and splashed water onto his face and chest.
Helmeppo watched him for a moment, then pulled his pillow over his face and groaned. “A code?” he muttered. “Sure, dat’s what he sayz dow, bud negs tig you dow I’ll be zigz feet udder!”
“Mmhm,” Koby said, crossing the room and snatching Helmeppo’s pillow away from him. Helmeppo whimpered, then coughed ruefully when his throat started to hurt. “Come on,” Koby continued, pulling on his day shirt and fumbling for his glasses.
“What?” Helmeppo protested. “I’b dot goig to traidig today. I’b a sig bad!”
“Sick leave is only warranted in cases of serious illnesses,” Koby recited. “That’s what it says in the regulation book.”
“Diz iz zeriouz!”
“No, it’s not,” Koby sighed. He yanked Helmeppo’s blanket off of him and dragged him bodily to the bucket. “It’s a cold. A measly little cold. You’re not gonna let a cold beat you, are you?”
“Yez,” Helmeppo grumbled.
“Come on, wash up and we’ll go to breakfast,” Koby said. “You’ll feel better once you’ve got some food in you.”
“Do I wod. Cad ebed eat, by trote hurds zo bach.”
“Regimental responsibility.”
Helmeppo cursed under his breath. He knew where this was going.
“I’ll get in trouble if you don’t show up,” Koby insisted. “Come on, Helmeppo. If you’re not gonna do it for yourself, do it for me.”
Helmeppo sighed and splashed icy-cold water all over himself. “Regimental responsibility” his ass. The little creep just liked seeing him suffer.
Helmeppo poked at his eggs halfheartedly and grimaced. The food at Marine Headquarters was never gourmet, but today’s menu seemed more unappetizing than ever. Scrambled eggs, extra runny. Dry toast. Fruit just this side of rotting. And, worst of all, bacon. Big, greasy piles of bacon. The sight made him sick. The smell made him sick. And Koby was shoveling more onto his plate even as he watched.
“Eat up!” Koby chirped once he’d finished building the mountain of meat on Helmeppo’s plate. “You’ll need all your strength to fight off your cold!”
“Oh, do you gotta cold, Helmet-head?” asked Murdoch, who was sitting by them. He was one of the more lowbrow recruits. Helmeppo didn’t like him at all, for various reasons, the nickname “Helmet-head” being the least of them.
“Yez,” Helmeppo answered, still poking at his eggs and sulking.
“You mean Pinky here doesn’t keep you warm at night?” The uncouth youth burst into laughter. Helmeppo growled and was about to shut him up when, surprisingly, Koby did it for him.
“Hey, lay off,” he said, glaring daggers at Murdoch. “He’s sick, all right? But he’s still gonna work today, which I bet is more than what you’d do.”
Murdoch stared at him for a second, then got to his feet. “OK, short stuff,” he said, picking up his plate and moving down the table with it. “Just a joke, you know. Don’t get so mad about it, sheesh.”
Helmeppo watched him go, then turned to Koby, surprised. “You’re sick. I have to look out for you,” Koby explained. He looked away from Helmeppo and took a bite of bacon. “And besides, rumors like that shouldn’t be allowed to get out of hand. It’s bad for morale.”
Helmeppo considered him for a moment, then muttered “Danks” and started in on his own breakfast. He knew Koby wouldn’t let him leave the table until he’d finished it. He’d stay there just to watch Helmeppo choke down every slimy, disgusting piece of bacon in the mess hall, if he thought it would make him well again.
“Diddle creep,” he said under his breath, smiling. “Juz wads do see be suver.”
“Ten Hut!” the unfamiliar sergeant barked. All down the line, Marine recruits snapped to attention. Helmeppo followed suit, fighting the urge to gag. At Koby’s insistence, he’d eaten every last bite of his breakfast, and boy was he regretting it now. It felt like all the food in his stomach was just waiting to force itself back up again. He didn’t know how he’d get through morning drills.
Beside him, though, Koby was quivering with excitement. Helmeppo rolled his eyes. He didn’t get it. It had been a whole week since they’d been given permission to join the regular recruits in their morning drills, and Koby was still stoked about it. Helmeppo himself could’ve done without the extra work, especially today. But, as Koby said, if he didn’t show, Koby could get in trouble and lose his “exercise privileges” altogether. So Helmeppo figured he didn’t mind too much, even if he did feel like utter crap. He hoped this new sergeant wasn’t a hardass like Sergeant Ivanova, or he’d be a goner.
“Listen up, Marines!” the sergeant commanded. He was a tall, swarthy man with a full beard and a a face that proved he’d been born under an unfavorable star.
“Sir yes sir!”
“Sergeant Ivanova is sick this morning! Therefore, morning drills are canceled for today! Do you understand?”
“Sir yes sir!” Helmeppo crowed with more vigor than he ever had.
“Consider this a rest period, Marines! Dismissed!”
“Sir yes sir!” The recruits dispersed. Koby, though, simply stared at the ground and frowned.
“Dooks dike I’b dot de ody od, eh, Koby?” Helmeppo chuckled. His smile fell, though, when Koby didn’t even look at him. Looked like Koby was more disappointed than Helmeppo was. Admittedly, that wasn’t very hard to achieve. Helmeppo shook Koby’s shoulder gently.
“I was really looking forward to today,” Koby pouted. “We were gonna run the 5-Mile.”
Helmeppo blanched as he remembered the fate he’d narrowly avoided. “Kub od, Koby. You cad do it sub udder day, huh? Det’s go.”
Koby looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Helmeppo. Let’s go. You should get all the rest you can before afternoon chores.”
“Right.” They started off the practice field, but a loud “Halt!” from behind made them freeze.
“Koby, Helmeppo, where do you think you’re going?” the sergeant yelled. Helmeppo whipped around and snapped to attention. Beside him, Koby did the same.
“Sir, we were going back to our quarters, sir!” Koby answered for them.
“And who gave you permission to do that?”
“You did, sir!”
“No, I did not!” the sergeant said, stalking towards them like a guard dog. “I gave permission for the Marines to rest. Are you Marines?”
“Sir no sir!”
The sergeant shoved his face into Helmeppo’s personal space, their noses a few inches apart. His beard was dusty. Helmeppo valiantly held his breath to keep himself from sneezing. “So, should you be going back to your quarters, or should you be doing your work?”
“Our work, sir!” Koby shouted. The sergeant looked over at him with something Helmeppo could have sworn was concern, if he didn’t firmly believe that such things were beaten out of you the minute you reached ensign.
“Are you sick, Koby?” the sergeant asked in exactly the same tone he’d been issuing orders in.
“Sir no sir!”
“Would you like to take the day off?” Helmeppo’s mouth nearly dropped open at the unfairness of it. Here he was, sick as a dog, and the sergeant was cruelly offering Koby a day’s leave right in front of him! Couldn’t they see the terrible pain he was in? Couldn’t they see how worthy of a sick day he was? Just because Koby was always bright and reliable and on-time and hardworking, and Helmeppo was, well, none of those things, that didn’t mean he wasn’t human!
“Sir no sir!” Koby answered.
The sergeant smiled sadistically. “Good. Because if you had lied and said you were, your friend here would have had to complete all of your work as well as his own.”
Helmeppo drew in a sharp breath. Thank goodness for Koby’s honesty.
“Permission to speak freely sir!” Koby yelled. Helmeppo paled. What was Koby doing? Didn’t he see they were lucky to escape with their lives?
The sergeant raised an eyebrow and said, in a softer voice, “Permission granted.” Helmeppo’s head ached from all the yelling. He just wanted to go home.
“Helmeppo is sick, sir! Therefore, I ask that you grant him a sick day instead! I will do all of his work!” Koby paused and took a deep breath. “Please, sir! He really is sick! He has a fever!”
For the second time in five minutes, Helmeppo had to keep his mouth from dropping open. Just this morning, Koby had dragged him out of his bed to do his work, and now he was requesting Helmeppo be given sick leave? Koby never talked back to senior officers!
The sergeant looked Helmeppo up and down. Helmeppo, not being one to miss out on such a prime opportunity, sniveled a little and did his best to look ill. After a moment, the sergeant snorted and turned back to Koby.
“Look, kid,” he said, “if I thought he really was sick, I would let him off. But he looks like the kind that would fake sick to get out of work, so no go. However, your concern for your comrade has been noted and will go on your record.” Helmeppo’s spirits sank to the bottom of the ocean.
“Now,” he continued, addressing both of them, “your first task is to transfer all the cannonballs from the spare storage bunker to the main storage bunker!” He turned to Helmeppo. “I want to see you doing your fair share of the work. Dismissed!”
Koby and Helmeppo saluted, then broke ranks and headed towards the spare storage bunker. There was no cart, so the cannonballs would have to be carried by hand. So much weight, so much walking. Helmeppo didn’t think he’d make it. His knees were weak already.
“I’m sorry,” Koby said once they were out of the sergeant’s hearing range. “I shouldn’t have made you get up today. Will you be all right?”
“Oh, do’t burry about be,” Helmeppo said with a long-suffering sigh, “I’ll be fide.”
They reached the spare storage bunker, a large building painted in Marine colors. As big as it was, though, it wasn’t nearly as massive as the main storage bunker, several hundred yards away. Koby looked at Helmeppo skeptically. “Are you sure?” he said.
“Of gourse I’b sure,” Helmeppo answered, pulling the door open. “Dere cat be dat bedy...” He trailed off as he beheld the inside of the bunker. Cannonballs all over the floor. Cannonballs on the shelves. Cannonballs stacked in the corners. Cannonballs everywhere.
“I’b goig to die,” he whimpered.
Six cannonballs later, Helmeppo was just about ready to turn in his future Marine captaincy and live out life as a humble sheep farmer. His arms hurt, his back hurt, his head was killing him, and he could barely breathe for the mucus in his throat. “Wahh, Koby,” he panted, “det’s tage a break.”
“Not yet, Helmeppo,” Koby replied. “If we don’t get these cannonballs transferred by lunch, we might not get to eat. And you need to eat if--”
“--iv I’b gudda ged bedder, I doe,” Helmeppo grumbled, hefting a cannonball into his arms. “Dot dike id’ll help, doe. Bore likely id’ll kill be. I hope zo.”
“What’d you say?” Koby asked, cradling a cannonball against his chest and slowly standing up with it.
“Duthig,” Helmeppo replied. He headed out the bunker door, hating every step. His arms felt like they were about to fall off his body, his body felt like it was about to fall off his legs, and his legs... he didn’t even want to think about what they felt like. Why, they were only halfway across the yard separating the main and spare storage bunkers, and they were shaking like leaves in a gale. If he made it through today, he thought, it would be a miracle.
“Almost there, Helmeppo,” Koby puffed. “Just a few more feet, a few more steps and you can put it down. Just a few more steps--”
Helmeppo stopped and glared at Koby. He’d had it. Had it up to here. “I doe dat!” he shouted. “Diz iz all your fault!”
Koby paused and stared at him with wide eyes. “Helmeppo?”
“You were de wod who dragged be out ob bed today!” Helmeppo ranted. “It’s your fauld I feel zig!”
“Ah, Helmeppo--”
“Shud ub!” He waved his arms around, letting the cannonball fall to the ground with a loud thud. “You’re de ode who gabe be de bacon! I hate bacon!”
“Helmeppo, behind you--”
“Add dat crappy serget, gibig us dis stupid job--”
“Who’s a crappy sergeant?” Helmeppo whirled around to find himself face-to-face with the officer from that morning. His eyes widened.
“Ah, I gan egzblain, zir!” he said, frantically waving his arms about. “I waz’t talkig about you, you zee! I waz, ub, talkig about Sergead Ibadoba!”
“Badmouthing your superior officers,” the sergeant recited. “Lying. Dropping equipment. And,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust, “being a little pansy. I’d say that amounts to... oh, five thousand pushups.”
Helmeppo’s mouth dropped open. Five thousand pushups? No way! He’d die for sure! That cruel, evil, vicious commander would probably dance on his grave!
“Ah, sir,” Koby started. The sergeant fixed him with a steely eye.
“What is it?”
“Permission to speak freely, sir.”
“Permission granted,” the sergeant said, nodding.
“Helmeppo is sick, sir,” Koby said, staring straight ahead. “I don’t know whether he can handle five thousand pushups right now.” He took a deep breath and clenched his fists nervously. “I respectfully request that I be allowed to assist him in completing his punishment, on account of his illness.”
Tears came to Helmeppo’s eyes. Koby! Always such a good friend! Always looking out for him! How could he ever have thought ill of him? He would have to pay him back sometime, preferably when he was wealthily retired and could hire someone to do it for him.
“Hmm...” the sergeant said, looking back and forth between them and rubbing his chin. “Request granted. You’re showing real Marine spirit there, boy. But,” he continued as Koby flushed with pleasure, “I’ve heard rumors about you two, and I know that if you could, you would do every single one of those pushups for him.”
Helmeppo almost said, “I wouldn’t mind that at all, sir!” but stopped himself in the nick of time.
“So,” the sergeant continued with an air of finality, “you will only be allowed two thousand pushups. The other three thousand he has to perform on his own.”
“Yes, sir!” Koby saluted. Helmeppo also saluted, though not quite as enthusiastically. Three thousand pushups was a lot less than five thousand, but in his weakened state, who could say whether he’d survive the ordeal? He could very well keel over right here and now, without warning or hope of rescue.
“Now!” the sergeant barked, ignoring Helmeppo’s distress. “Assume the position!”
Helmeppo survived the first five hundred pushups. He even managed six hundred. Seven hundred was harder, eight hundred almost impossible. At 829 his arms buckled. He collapsed to the ground and panted heavily in the dust. This was it. This was the end.
“Get up!” the sergeant ordered. “Your comrade is still working, doing your punishment for you! Don’t you feel any shame, you pansy?”
“Sir--”
“Shut up, Koby!” the sergeant barked. “I’ve allowed you all the leeway I’m going to! A real Marine wouldn’t fake sick like this!” Helmeppo dazedly imagined him frothing at the mouth. “You know what?” the sergeant continued. “Don’t bother coming to morning drills tomorrow, or ever. Either of you. He obviously can’t handle them. Now,” he sneered, “seeing as your friend here isn’t fit to peel potatoes, let alone be a Marine, you have 2988 pushups to complete. Get to it.”
Helmeppo’s eyes widened. He lifted his head slightly and looked over at Koby. The other boy was on his hands and knees, stunned, silent; as Helmeppo watched, that shock transmuted into despair. Koby looked at the sergeant a moment longer, then dropped his gaze to the ground and repositioned himself for his remaining pushups.
Helmeppo clawed the dirt with both hands, then pushed himself shakily to his knees. “Dat wo’t be nezezary, zir,” he grit out, brushing himself off. The sergeant stared at him in shock. Helmeppo met his gaze evenly, a small smile on his face.
“Looks like you have some guts after all, pansy,” the sergeant said after a moment, grinning.
“Yez, zir,” Helmeppo answered. “Hey, Koby, you shoud probably get back to bovig doze cadodballs.”
“Helmeppo?” Koby asked, frowning.
“You dode wadda biss luch. Ad you godda eat, iv you’re godda go to bordig drills toborrow.” Koby blinked.
“That’s right,” the sergeant said, nodding at Koby. “Get to it. Your friend here will finish up his punishment and join you.”
“But sir, he’s--”
“--got a real Marine spirit under all that whining,” the sergeant interrupted. “If you both finish everything I’ve assigned you, permission to attend morning drills will be reinstated. Now, get to it!”
Koby hesitated for a moment, then leapt to his feet and saluted. “Yes, sir!” he shouted. Then he gathered up the cannonballs he and Helmeppo had been carrying and ran off towards the main bunker with them. The sergeant turned to Helmeppo and nodded.
“You,” he said, “have 2988 pushups to complete.”
“Yez, zir,” Helmeppo answered. Then he got to work.
A few eternities later--he’d lost track long ago--Helmeppo completed his 2986th pushup. He paused for a moment, bare inches from the ground and unable to move. His arms were screaming in agony, his back ached like the devil, his head had a troupe of taiko-playing giants in it, his mouth was dry as a desert, and he could barely breathe in the hot, dusty air. He was exhausted and dizzy and sicker than ever. Even his teeth hurt. But he took as deep a breath as he could and pushed himself up.
“Two-thousand nine-hundred eight-seven!” the sergeant shouted. Koby ran up and glanced concernedly at Helmeppo.
“Sir!” he reported, “I’ve completed the transfer, sir!” While he was talking, Helmeppo dropped down, nose touching the ground.
The sergeant nodded. “Good,” he said, then turned back to Helmeppo. Helmeppo grit his teeth, closed his eyes, and pushed as hard as he could. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his body back to his beginning position. “Two-thousand nine-hundred eighty-eight!” the sergeant shouted. “Punishment complete!”
Never had two words ever sounded so glorious to Helmeppo’s ears. He positioned his legs underneath himself and stood up. His proud smile faded, though, as the world spun.
“Hey Koby,” he said, “I did it.” He swayed a little, then a little more.
“Yes!” Koby whooped. “Good job, Helmeppo!”
Helmeppo didn’t hear what Koby said next: he’d fainted.
When Helmeppo came to, he was back in the small attic space he shared with Koby. There was a damp cloth on his forehead. The air was blessedly cool. The blankets under him were much softer than the ground. And he felt like utter crap. Stupid Koby, making him do things he’d never do for himself.
A shuffling sound told him he wasn’t alone. Speak of the devil...
“Hey,” Koby said, puttering over to him with a bowl of something in his hands. He set it down, then lifted Helmeppo’s face and held a glass of water to his lips. Helmeppo drained it and laid himself back down. “You fainted,” Koby continued when he’d put the glass down in its original position.
“I doticed,” Helmeppo replied acidly. Then he grimaced as his chapped lips cracked from the sudden stretching. This in turn caused more grimacing and stretching, which eventually led to Helmeppo discovering the awful sunburn he’d gotten on the back of his neck and the sides of his face.
“Sorry,” Koby said as he watched Helmeppo writhe in agony. “I guess you really are sick, huh?”
“Dat’s what I’b beed tryig to tell you all day!” Helmeppo retorted, moving his lips as little as possible. Koby dipped his fingers into the bowl and brought them out covered in some sort of salve.
“Sergeant Garibaldi thought so too,” Koby said. “He’s giving you the rest of the day off.”
“Garibadi?”
“The sergeant who was in charge of us today,” Koby explained. “Here, shut your mouth. This stuff should numb it a little.”
Helmeppo pressed his lips together and allowed Koby to rub salve over them. It stung at first, but as promised, the pain faded after a few moments. Really too bad he couldn’t feel anything once it started working though--Koby’s fingers felt kind of nice, even if they were rough like sandpaper.
“Feel better?” Koby asked. Helmeppo nodded, then winced as the action aggravated his burned neck. “Here,” Koby said, “let me get that for you.”
Helmeppo remained silent as Koby applied the salve to the sides of his face. He let Koby lift his head up to get the back of his neck, then laid back as Koby wiped his fingers off on one of Helmeppo’s blankets and stood.
“Thanks, Helmeppo,” he said, crossing the room to put the bowl away.
Helmeppo blinked himself out of his daze. “What?”
“Thanks,” Koby repeated as he sat down beside Helmeppo again. “For doing that, I mean. I don’t think that sergeant was serious about taking away our morning drill privileges.”
“Privilegez?” Helmeppo groaned, only now realizing what he’d done. Not only had he done thousands of pushups, in the blazing sun, no less, he’d done it so he could get up at the crack of dawn every day and submit himself to torture!
“Yeah.” Koby trailed off, averting his eyes. Helmeppo studied his friend’s guilty face and reconsidered. He hadn’t done it so he could run laps until his legs fell off, he’d done it so Koby could. That made a difference, and he wasn’t quite sure why.
“Dode borry ‘bout it,” Helmeppo answered. “You stood ub for be all day. Eben do you bere de ode who bade be get ub id de first blace.”
“Well, if you didn’t complain all the time anyway, I would’ve believed that you were really sick,” Koby huffed.
“But I bas!”
“You owe me one,” Koby insisted, leaning over and poking Helmeppo in the chest. For a moment, Helmeppo was infuriated. That little creep! Helmeppo, owe him a favor? When he was the one suffering in bed? This called for revenge.
When Koby stayed poised over him for a moment longer than necessary, Helmeppo had a stroke of genius.
“Do’t borry,” he said, smiling. “I’ll take care ob you toborrow.”
“What?”
Koby’s eyes widened as Helmeppo pushed himself up. He put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, to push him down again, but before he could Helmeppo wound an arm around Koby’s neck and pressed their lips together.
After a moment, Helmeppo released him and fell back to the blankets, smiling smugly. Koby slowly touched his lips, eyes wide.
“That...” he said, a blush rising to his face. “That tasted really bad.”
“You bere de od who put de medizine stuff od,” Helmeppo said, a matching blush staining his own face. Why the hell had he done that? Before he could think about it too much, Koby himself provided the answer.
Koby blinked, then hurled himself away from Helmeppo, pointing accusingly. “You jerk!” he shouted. “Now I’m gonna get sick too!”
“Regibedal rezbozibility,” Helmeppo said, turning gingerly onto his side and yawning to disguise the little thrill that lingered. “You woudet wat be to be zig alode, woud you?”
His only answer was the sound of the door slamming. He chuckled a little as he settled in for a nice, lazy afternoon nap, only marred a little by the lingering muscle aches and stuffiness. Life was good. He had the rest of the day off, the stuff Koby had used on him was working, and he’d even gotten a little revenge on his friend for dragging him around all day. Nothing felt better than that.
He had to admit, though, the kiss came pretty close.
