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Title: "The Doll" Fandom: Over There (Sgt. Scream) Characters: Sergeant "Scream" Silas Prompt: 025. Strangers Word Count: Approx. 1,000 Rating: PG-13, adult language Author's Notes: None at this time. If I think of any, I'll let you know. "Over There" is written and produced by the always-innovative Steven Bochco Productions, for the FX cable TV channel. I'm not making any money from this derivative work, just borrowing the squad for a bit o' fun.
After another long day of patrolling, the squad truck carrying Scream and his fire team finally pulled into the perimeter of Camp Victory under the careful hand of Mrs. B. One by one, the tired members of Scream's team climbed off the rear bed, slinging their weapons and griping about having aching feet or wanting some chow. Dismissed individually by Scream, with his usual admonitions, the members of the team dispersed to their own choice of unwinding activity.
Scream hauled himself past the company command tent to leave Captain Baron (who the squad lovingly called "The Duke") his after action report, which took all of fifteen minutes, since the patrol was quite uneventful. Relieved of his mental burdens for a moment, Sgt. Silas decided to head right for his rack and relieve himself of the physical ones.
On the way to the squad hooch, the camp postal clerk charged out of one of the headquarters tents and stumbled across the sand in Scream's direction. He was carrying a brown paper wrapped box, which must have been heavy. Then again, the camp postal clerk was known to be very much a tumblefoot and sometimes looked like he was about to trip himself up with every footstep.
"Sergeant Silas!" the postal clerk shouted. "I have a shoebox for ya, Sarge!"
"Why me?" Scream replied, nearly catching the shoebox as the postal clerk had one of his usual half-stumble moments. "I'm not expecting any mail."
"This is one of the care boxes from the States," the clerk explained. "The company clerk mentioned that you didn't have any family mail recently, so when a bunch of these came in, you were on the list for one. Enjoy it, Sarge!"
Scream shook the package, which was more the size of a box for a pair of combat boots, and gazed at it silently for a moment. A child had scrawled the words "To Any Soldier" in a feminine hand on the outer wrappings with a colored marker, most likely with the assistance of a parent or teacher. A small, white computer label indicated that the package had been shipped from a New Jersey soldier support organization called "Operation Shoebox".
Returning to the squad hooch, Scream noticed that no one else was around. Stripping off his combat gear and leaning his rifle at the foot of his cot until he could return it to the company armorer, the sergeant reclined with a sigh and continued to study the unopened package.
He gingerly separated the plain brown wrapper along one seam, splitting the plastic packing tape that sealed the wrap shut. Once he had the wrappings neatly removed, he opened the shoebox and took stock of the contents.
At the very top of the tightly packed variety of goods from the States, Scream found another handwritten letter from the student who donated the package. The usual care package contents followed one after another as he removed them from the box. Small quantities of hotel soaps and shampoos, grooming supplies, energy bars, and a couple of magazines were unearthed before Scream located a small stuffed animal that had been practically squashed flat in the bottom of the box under the weight of all the other items.
The small doll was shaped like a pink teddy bear, with a cute expression sewed onto its face. It felt like it was stuffed with cotton mostly, but had a bit of heft from some tiny beans packed into its torso. It didn't have a brand label, although the doll reminded Scream of the Beanie Babies that were such a fad among the little kids in his neighborhood back home.
Setting all the goods back into the box so that they fit once more, Scream wondered for a moment what his young benefactor looked like. He allowed himself a moment to picture a little, precocious schoolgirl packing the box over and over until she got everything to fit. And he wondered how many times the little girl had tried frustratedly to write a nice letter to her "any soldier" before getting it just right. The letter in his hands was a crowning achievement for someone back home. It was begging to be read.
Dear soldier, it began.
I don't think I know who you are, but my mom asked me to help make a box to send you anyway. We packed it up with all sorts of little things that we hoped you would like.
My mom and dad and teachers told me about what you are doing in Iraq. I'm very happy to know you are there protecting us in America. And that you are also helping the little children in Iraq.
There's a lot of stuff in the box, and I hope you have some good soldier friends to share it with. Because my mom says that you should share with others, even if you don't have a lot. I share my school lunch with two friends in my school, Jane and Lisa, and they share theirs with me. We're really good friends.
My soldier friend, I want to ask you a favor. The little pink bear in the box is not for you. I got her for Christmas last year and her name is Charlotte. I wanted to share her with someone in Iraq who doesn't have any toys because of the war. Can you please find someone for me to give Charlotte to? She made me very happy all year long, and I want her to make someone else happy too.
Thank you for protecting us. Jane and Lisa and me all want to give you a hug for what you're doing, and we hope you come home soon.
Love, Katie (West End School)
Scream nodded to himself as he read Katie's letter a couple times and then folded it up neatly to keep in his footlocker. Hearing footfalls just outside the squad hooch, and the voices of his squad, he picked up Charlotte, the little pink bear, and tucked it gently into one of the equipment pouches in his LBE gear.
"I'll take care of your favor, Katie," Scream whispered into the air. "Promise."
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