Part Five
Possibilities

When Colonel Blake came back,he sided with Hawkeye, so we didn't get in trouble. They didn't hand the Korean over to Flagg; he left with Korean military police instead. But Flagg went off right after them. Maybe all we did was buy him some time, but we did what we could.

I'm a little ashamed to say this, but I was almost glad that Flagg had something to distract him. I figured he'd be so excited about a chance to get covert information from the Korean that he'd forget that I'd pissed him off by standing up to him. I shoulda known that guys like Flagg don't forget stuff like that.

For awhile, though, I thought he had. It was almost a year before he showed up again. The funny thing about life in a MASH unit is that things change all the time, but nothing ever really changes. I know that sounds stupid, but it's how it is. It's the same 'cause there's always more casualties, always ones that the docs can't save, no matter how they try. There's always the same chow in the mess tent (boy, sometimes I think I'd almost kick a puppy for some of my Mom's pot roast. Well, no I wouldn't. But I wouldn't share with the puppy, and that's bad enough). Everyone was too tired most of the time, and the still in The Swamp ran almost continually.

The differences were people. Trapper John went back to the states. I missed him, but his replacement was a good Joe. Not that his name was Joe, I mean. His name's B.J. Hunnicut, and he has a wife and little girl in California. He showed me pictures. They're real pretty.

Then there's Corporal Max Klinger, from Toledo, Ohio. He said he feels a kinship with me, even though he's from the big city, and I'm from a farm. He calls us 'the vowel states boys', 'cause I'm from Iowa and he's from Ohio. He wears dresses.

I know what you're thinking. No, he isn't gay. I asked him a couple of weeks after he arrived. He was wearing a flowered housecoat that reminded me of Doris, and was rinsing out some nylons. Boy, the nurses envied him for those.

I was kind of hesitant. I mean, I hadn't even asked Ray if he was gay. Of course, he'd kind of demonstrated it, so the question would have been like what Hawkeye said, 'moot'. Boy, that's a funny word.

Anyway, I didn't have anyone to talk to about Ray and me, and I was kind of hoping... So, I asked him. "Klinger? Um, don't get mad at me, but do you like guys?"

He was draping a stocking over a line to dry, and said casually, "Why, kid? You interested?" I turned beet red, and when I didn't say anything, he looked at me. "It was a joke, kid, a joke. I got nothing against guys. Some of my best friends are guys. But I don't like guys, if you know what I mean. Don't let the lavender lingerie fool you. I'm doing this for a section eight."

I nodded. "Oh, I see."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that. My Uncle Casden has been with my Aunt Herbie for over twenty years."

"Wow. They're married?"

"Not in the strictest legal sense, but yeah, to all intents and purposes. You shoulda heard Herbie when Unc forgot their anniversary. It took him roses, champagne, and a moonlit cruise to pull his butt out of that crack."

"Twenty years," I marveled. "I... didn't know guys could stay together that long."

Max shrugged. He sat down and lit a cigar. It looked kind of funny, since he was wearing rhinestone chandelier earnings. They were a little much for afternoon wear, but he was breaking them in. "It depends on the guys, Radar. Sure, they have more crap to deal with than a traditional couple. But it happens." He blew out a big cloud of smoke. "You mind telling me if this is just casual interest in my family, or does it have some personal significance for you?"

I shuffled my feet, then took my glasses off and polished them. Uncle Ed says I polish my glasses for the same reason a cat spends so much time washing himself; it gives me an excuse to not pay any attention when someone is talking to me. But Klinger didn't say anything else. He just looked at me. And there wasn't any apprehension in his face. It wasn't like he was dreading what I might say.

"I... um... I got... a friend."

"Is this friend gay?"

"Yeah, he... Oh. You think I mean me, but I'm talking about a friend. No. Wait. Yes. Oh, heck, I got a friend and we're both gay. Wait, I think he said he's bi. That means sometimes he likes girls, too."

"I'm aware of that, Radar."

"I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but that's not unusual for someone your age who just decided he was gay. This is recent, I take it?"

"Not really. It was like a year and a half ago. But... but that's all there was. Of the actual gay stuff, I mean. He had to ship out before I did."

"That's rough."

"Yeah." I brightened. "But he writes to me." Suddenly I looked at Klinger doubtfully. I didn't know him all that well, and I'd just told him a couple of major secrets, ones that could really make things difficult for me.

I guess he understood what I was thinking. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with Uncle Max. But I wouldn't spread it around any more, though. The US army can be kinda harsh if you're a square peg and they decide you should go into a round hole. They're likely to try to pound you in to make you fit."

"And I wouldn't just leave those letters laying around, either." he continued. "Lotta nosy parkers in this world who just can't keep their mitts off other people's personal stuff. I ain't naming names, but the initials that come to mind are Frank Burns."

"Yeah." I thought about cold yellow eyes. "Well, at least he's the worst we have to deal with."

"He's bad enough."

Klinger and me got to be good friends after that. He even got his mom to send Mom a recipe for something called 'warak malfoof'. I'm not kidding you, that's what it's called. It means something like 'cabbage cigar rolls'. Any way, Mom said they were a big hit at the Quilting Circle pot luck dinner. Uncle Ed ate five of them, and was kind of hard to be around for a few hours, if you know what I mean.

It was nice, having someone who knew about that part of me, but didn't mind. I could talk about Ray to Klinger. I didn't use his name, though. It isn't that I was ashamed of Ray. Gosh, no. But I wasn't going to go telling people about his private life without him knowing about it. I figured he'd do the same for me.

Any way, I took Klinger's advice. I didn't just leave my letters from Ray laying around. I bought a nice little wooden box from one of the locals who did carving. It had scroll work all over the top. The guy had wanted me to buy one with a big heart on it, but that would have been just too much. It'd be like pasting a big sign on it saying 'LOVE LETTERS INSIDE'. I tucked the box deep inside my footlocker, and I kept the footlocker locked.

Not that there was really anything in the letters that would have gotten me in trouble. I mean, we didn't talk sex, or anything. But it kinda came through that we weren't just pen pals. Ray would talk about how much he missed me, and thought about me. Things he'd like to show me in the states when the war was over, places he'd like us to go together. It was awful nice to think about, but I tried not to take it too seriously. Much as I hated the idea, I figured he'd go right back to his old life, and so would I. I couldn't hope for something like Max's Uncle Casden.

Could I?