I drained my coffee cup and stood up. Cindy quickly stood up with me.“Preacher?”I sighed.“Maybe in public you better stick to Lieutenant, Corpor...l.”She nodded.“Lieutenant? I’ve got some things I’d like to talk about. Can you we go somewhere private?”I felt the weight of The Ages.“I have a single occupancy. Let’s go there.”As we entered, I saw the other bunk, Sparky’s bunk, empty. It accused me with its perfectly aligned sheets and cover.Cindy and I undressed and climbed under the sheets of my. He was nearly the stereotypical jock: covered with muscles, the biggest of which seemed to have replaced his neck; hair close cropped up the sides but unkempt on top and a shaggy brown mullet in the back; close-set eyes that Grammy would call "beady," and that ever-present grin. His clothing matched his compatriots' from the sleeveless tee-shirt to the converse all-stars on his feet.At that point I couldn't help but think of him as a caricature of the jock stereotype — or a cartoon. And that. More

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