Called Up
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Glee or the song Travelin' Soldier by The Dixie Chicks.
Thanks to OvergronStan for suggesting this song idea.
The Buckeye Diner in Lima was usually buzzing with activity on summer days in 1968. Kids popped dimes in the jukebox to hear the latest and greatest tunes by The Beatles, The Beach Boys, The Rolling Stones, The Bee Gees, Diana Ross and The Supremes, and Arethra Franklin. More often than not, impromptu sock hops would break out in the raised area of the diner, the part that faced the bus depot. Usually the ones sock hopping were Quinn's friends, there hanging out for milkshakes and sandwiches and good tunes. Some days, the radio was tuned into the local station so adults at the coffee bar could keep up with the national news. The big talk was Vietnam. Quinn was tired of hearing about it. The draft lottery was going on, and Lima boys and men were getting drafted, to be sent somewhere overseas to fight in a war they didn't even know what they were fighting for. It was getting to be too much to deal with most days, so she threw herself into cheerleading and working at the diner part-time.
She remembers the day so clearly…a hot late July day. The air was heavy and thick, the heat layering everything and everyone like a blanket. Not a breeze to be bought. The diner was unusually quiet, in between lunch and supper. Her pink-and-white-striped dress clung to her in the awful heat. Even the half apron she tied around her waist added another layer of misery. She had pulled her long golden hair into a high ponytail and tied it with a pretty pink bow, anything to get her hair off the back of her neck. The only things stirring the air in the diner were ceiling fans, turning slowly, and nothing else. The radio was on and a voice droned on about President Johnson and his latest decision. She popped her Bazooka gum and dug out a dime from her apron, took it to the jukebox, and put on some Arethra. She took a tray and danced around, picking up dirtied plates and bowls and glasses, then she plucked a towel from the table-cleaning bucket and continued moving about the empty diner, wiping down tables and singing, I Say A Little Prayer For You.
While wiping down a table in the raised section, she heard the bell ring over the main door. She stopped singing and dancing and turned to see who the customer was.
Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army greens
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair
The guy stepped into the diner and stopped, watching the girl sing and dance. The sun beat down through the windows on her, and, when she heard the bell ding, she stopped dancing, frozen in a statuesque position. His first thought was boy, can that girl sing and she's an angel. The sun behind her cast her in a glow.
The only sound was the end of Arethra singing...to live without you would only bring heartbreak for me...
The girl cleared her throat and bounced down from the raised seating area to go behind the counter. She dropped the towel back in the bucket and dried her hands. He walked over to a table in a shadowy corner, away from the glare of the sun. He set his duffel bag down on the floor, then sat down himself. The girl came over to him, popping her gum, and handed him a menu. She also set down a tall glass of ice water.
"It's hot out there...looks like you could use it," she said, when he looked from the water up to her.
His blonde hair was shaggy, he was sweaty, and looked up at her like a lost puppy. He was certainly not a beatnik or hippie; he was dressed in army greens...heading to service. He was not from around Lima, either; she didn't recognize him. His bright blue eyes, though, spoke volumes to her...at one time he had been happy, the light was still there, even though his body seemed tired already. He smiled at her; his full lips reddened from his biting on them.
"Thanks, miss," he replied, sipping the water, remembering his manners.
"So, you travelin' somewheres?" she asked him, leaning against the table, popping her gum.
"To boot camp, miss...just waitin' on my bus," he replied.
They stared at one another silently for a bit, then he realized she was waiting on him to order something so he looked down suddenly at the menu, a blush creeping up his cheeks.
"The army, huh? To fight in that God-awful war?"
"Yes, miss. My number was called up," he answered, shrugging as if he didn't care. "Just doin' my duty."
"You from around here? You don't look familiar."
"A farm just outside Lima. Um, I guess I'll have a grilled ham salad sam'wich and maybe some fries and a lemonade, please," he told her.
She pulled her order pad from her apron and wrote down what he said in shorthand without taking her eyes off him. He handed her the menu.
"You sure sing good," he said quietly, looking down at the glass of water, still blushing. "Really blew my mind..."
She popped her gum, gaining his attention back, then smiled at him and practically skipped back to the counter. She poured his lemonade and hit the bell for the cook.
The cook lumbered into the pass-through window. "Really Quinn? You don't need to slam the damn thing."
"You got an order, Puck!" she said sweetly, then took a glass of cold lemonade back to the blonde guy. She heard Puck grumbling behind the window.
"Here ya go, soldier," she said, placing the lemonade next to the water.
"Your name's Quinn? That's...pretty," he said, shyly.
"Yeah...it's right here," she said, pointing at her name tag just over her left breast. He glanced there but blushed again fiercely. He was wringing his hands together and nearly shaking, so she sat down across from him. "You nervous? 'Bout goin' over...there?"
He shrugged again. "Nothin' to be nervous about...really." He stared again at the table, the water, the lemonade, the jukebox, anything to not look at her. He felt if he met her eyes, all his resolve would be out the window and he'd never step on that bus to leave.
She looked around too, mostly out the window at the empty bus depot. "No one's seeing you off? Usually there's a parade down Main Street to the depot when a boy leaves."
"I'm goin' this alone...my dad had to stay on the farm, there's work to be done there, mom stayed with my brother and sister," the boy replied.
"I see..." she said.
"Order up, Quinn!" the cook boomed from the pass-over window, hitting the bell. "Don't be sittin' around talking to the customers," he muttered under his breath as she approached the window. She just gave him a dirty look and rolled her eyes.
"You can be such a pisser at times, Q," Puck muttered under his breath and wandered off.
She got up to retrieve the boy's order and took it to him.
"What's his deal?" the boy asked her, glancing to where Puck had been.
"He's just a candyass who thinks he's a badass," she said, sitting back down across from him. He began eating slowly with her watching him.
"You have pretty eyes," she said finally. He blinked.
"Thank you..."
"When does your bus get here?"
"Uh, like 8 o'clock..." he replied, taking a bite of his sandwich, another sip of lemonade.
"You gonna miss home?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Maybe."
The bell over the door rang and a rowdy group of kids burst through.
"Suzy Q! How's it hangin'?" a boy in a wheelchair asked Quinn.
"Hey Arthur…a little to the right," Quinn replied, smiling. The boy sitting with her smiled too and Arthur laughed.
Two girls, obviously hippies, followed Arthur.
"God, Artie, have you, like, gained weight?" the tall blonde asked as she pushed the boy. "I think you might be retaining water."
The blonde girl and her dark-haired friend both wore patchwork denim short-shorts and floppy hats and blue-colored Beatles shades. The dark-haired girl spun around on roller skates.
"Who's your friend, Queen B?" the dark-haired hippie asked her, eyeing the boy still eating fries.
Quinn looked over at him, her mouth open.
"Sam…Sam Evans," he replied to the others.
"Sam…" Quinn repeated.
The bell rang again, and a short brunette girl and a tall brown-haired boy came in, him listening intently to what she was telling him. They were not hippies, more preppy types, her wearing a mini-dress and argyle knee socks even in the July heat and him wearing khaki slacks and loafers.
"I'm telling you, Finn, a Beatles medley would be the bee's knees!" she exclaimed. The boy looked slightly confused but nodded. They saw Quinn, and the short brunette rushed over.
"Why hello, Quinn, dear. And who is this?"
"Hello Rachel. This is Sam Evans who is waiting on his bus. Sam, this is Rachel, our resident busy bee," Quinn told him, earning a shocked look from Rachel.
"Hiya…" Sam mumbled to the girl while the tall boy hovered behind her.
"And this is Finn…" Quinn said, nodding to the tall kid. "Let me take care of them and I'll be back…"
She started to go to her group of friends, then turned back to Sam.
"Um, I'm off in an hour…wanna go talk somewhere before your bus gets here?" she asked suddenly, biting the edge of her pink glossy lip.
He was sipping the lemonade when she asked. He set the glass down and nodded, not taking his eyes off her.
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile
And he said would you mind sittin' down for a while
And talking to me, I'm feeling a little low
She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go
She then got up to take care of her friends. Sam watched her from his table, moving around them like she was a butterfly. They all seemed to be pulled to her...her smile and laughter, her dumb jokes, her grace. Most of them ordered the usual, and she rung the bell for the cook. He appeared at the window, and shouted hello to the group. Sam realized they were all friends. The dark-haired hippie chick rolled over to the jukebox and popped a dime in, and The Doors started playing. Two new guys arrived, both wearing black turtlenecks and super-tight denim jeans, even in the heat. They were greeted warmly by the group.
Sam watched as others would go to the jukebox after a song had finished and feed it a dime to hear another song. He also noticed how the group seemingly harmonized together, moving slightly with one another, as if they knew instinctively dances to the songs. Quinn served them their usual and came back to sit with Sam. She cleared away his empty plate and refilled his lemonade.
"They're a bunch of crazy cats but I love 'em," she said, nodding her head toward the group. "How 'bout you? Friends? Girlfriend?"
He shrugged. "No one really...I dropped out of school in tenth grade to help on the farm, didn't really stay friends with those kids and no girlfriend."
"You look tan...from working on the farm, I guess...and no girlfriend? Wow...someone's loss..." she said quietly. "I need to go finish up some stuff, then we can go. I mean, if you still want to go with me..."
"Yeah, sure...sounds cool..."
At 5 o'clock, Quinn untied her apron and left it behind the counter, saying goodbye to her friends, then went to Sam's table.
"C'mon, Sam, let's beat feet..." she said, holding out her hand to him. He took her hand and followed her out.
So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care
I got no one to send a letter to
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?
Their first stop was actually behind the diner, at a beat-up pickup truck parked in the shade.
"Puck won't miss a coupla these..." she said, reaching into the bed of the truck and plucking a couple ice-cold cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon from a cooler. She tossed one to Sam. He looked at it, confused. "For serving our country," she said to him.
She then walked over to a shiny black VW Bug and got behind the wheel. "You comin'?" she asked him since he still stood by the pickup holding his beer.
"Uh, yeah...I'm comin'..." He came to the passenger's side and tossed his duffel bag into the backseat. He climbed in and popped open his can.
"For serving me, you know, in there," he said as a toast and clinked his can with hers. She smiled at him again. "So, where you takin' me?"
"You'll see..."
xxxxx
They wound up at a large lake on the outskirts of Lima. She parked her car, grabbed a blanket from the trunk, took Sam's hand and led him down a wooded trail running parallel to the water's edge. The trail ended at a pier overlooking the lake. The sun was still just above the horizon so they kicked off their shoes and sat on the end of the pier, dangling their feet in the cool water, watching some people boat in the distance. They sat side by side in silence for awhile until she finally turned to him.
"So, Sam Evans, how do you really feel about going into the service?" she asked him.
"It's what I'm supposed to do," he replied. "All us men got to at some point in time."
"But how do you feel about it? I know you think you have to and you're going to go but how do you really feel about leaving Ohio?"
Had she read it in his eyes? He hated having to leave home. He didn't want to leave his parents or kid brother and sister or the farm. He had a life there and wasn't ready to give it up. For as bad as he didn't want to get on that bus, it had led him to this pretty girl sitting on the dock with him, close enough that her thigh rubbed against his, then her hand held his.
"I don't wanna leave," he murmured.
She was no longer smiling but gazing at him intensely. A slight breeze came in off the lake and lifted a layer of his hair.
"I thought you said you were reporting for boot camp?" she asked quietly.
He looked at her.
"Your jacket…it says Evans," she explained.
"Oh, yeah, this is my dad's…"
They sat in silence for a bit longer as the sun continued its descent, the light of the day waning. He slipped the jacket off, leaving him in a tight white t-shirt.
"I, for one, think you deserve a better send-off than a shitty can of nasty beer," she whispered to him.
Slowly, she leaned toward him, doing something she had never done before. Their lips connected lightly, softly, and lingered together. He could taste the PBR and Bazooka and pink lip gloss on her lips. He felt her tugging his hand to her waist, then she held his shoulders. They parted finally, not looking away.
"Wow…bananas…" he mumbled, smiling lopsidedly at her. She smiled back and leaned in again.
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier's coming home
"C'mon…" she said, after more kissing and now groping. She stood up and held out her hand to him. He stood up. She grabbed the blanket from the pier and ran back toward the edge of the forest. She threw the blanket on the ground and sat down. He followed and slid in next to her.
"You are going to get such a groovy going-away gift from me…" she purred, pulling him to her. He stretched the length of his body against hers.
"Oh yeah?" he asked, finding it hard to believe his luck.
"Oh yeah…" she said, running her hand down his chest. "I-I just need to tell you…um, I've never…um…"
He was kissing her, moving from her lips to her ear to her neck. He stopped and looked at her.
"Never?" he asked and she nodded. "Me either."
He nipped at her lips. His hand crept up her side, almost to her boob, then stopped.
"I don't have a rubber, though," he said, almost leaning off her. She grasped his shoulders and pulled him back to her.
"It's cool…" she whispered. "More kissing."
Their hands roamed over one another's body, then articles of clothing were tossed aside. The moon had risen, and, in the moonlight, Sam stared at Quinn's bare breasts, her nipples at attention in the cooler air. Her hand had migrated down to the front of his pants, rubbing his erection carefully, hesitantly. The skirt of her diner uniform was pushed up to her hips, and he reached for her panties. His fingers brushed her upper thigh, and she shivered.
"Are you sure, Quinn?" he asked quietly.
"Yes…yeah, I'm sure…Sam…" she replied. His name was new on her lips; she enjoyed saying it out loud.
Everything was so escalated, so heated, for her. So new. The way he kissed her, hard and passionately. The way he held her and touched her. The way he pressed his hard body against hers, pushing his penis into her groin.
He slid his hand inside her panties, to her wetness. The kissing stopped while he explored her. Then, he pushed the panties down her legs and pulled them off her. He straddled her thigh and let her fingers explore him. She touched the bulge in his pants, then unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them. He put his knees together between her legs and pushed his pants down to his knees, revealing white undershorts. She traced the outline of his cock with her fingers, then pulled the shorts down slowly.
Once his pants were out of the way, he leaned over her, kissing her again. She drew her knees up alongside his body and waited for him. His hips were pressed against hers; she could feel the tip of his cock pushing at her entrance. He grunted a little, then reached down to himself and worked his penis around until she made a little sound to let him know he was in the right place.
He whispered okay to her and kissed her gently while pushing in. She winced ever so slightly at the sting and gripped his shoulders tightly.
"Oh…oh…" he mumbled at the sensation. "Gosh…Quinn."
Slowly, he began moving over her, looking down at her, trying to contain the pleasure rocking his body. She locked her eyes with his, taking in the feeling of losing her virginity to this handsome stranger. His breathing was quickening, as was his pace, and she saw him bite his lip. The sting was gone, and she began to feel some pleasure from the motion. She brought her knees up, crossing her ankles behind him.
"Oh god…uh…" he whimpered, then his body trembled over her. He was breathing in gasps next to her ear. His hips still moved with slow jerks, pushing in and out of her. She felt a warm wetness now between her legs.
"Did you? Did you…have one?" she asked him finally.
"Yeah…" he whispered, kissing her cheek. He pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, sucking in air. "That was bananas."
She smiled in the twilight. "Yeah…it was, Sam."
For the briefest of moments, he considered ditching the bus while they lay side by side, holding hands.
They dressed slowly; it was nearing 8 o'clock and she needed to get him back to the bus depot. She wrote down her address, and he said he'd send her a letter with his return address, when he knew what it was.
They sat together on the bench outside the depot, waiting for the bus to pull up. She held his hand as they waited; both were silent. She heard the rumble of the bus' engine first.
"Well, it sure was nice meeting you, Sam Evans," she said, trying to be light.
They stood up together when the bus rolled to a stop. Others boarded, but they stood facing each other. He dropped his duffel bag from his hand and embraced her tightly.
"Thank you, Quinn, I'll never forget your kindness," he mumbled into her hair, mindful of his manners. Her hair smelled like sunshine, though, and it was hard for him to think straight. He kissed her one last time. "Write soon."
"I will, Sam," she said, watching him pick up his bag. "Oh! I don't have a picture of myself…will this do?" She untied the ribbon in her hair and handed it to him. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, relishing the memory of lying on her blanket together.
"It's perfect."
The bus driver cleared his throat, and Sam looked at Quinn again. He then boarded the bus, finding a seat to watch her from the window as the bus pulled away from the depot slowly and rumbled down the road from Lima.
So the letters came from an army camp
In California then Vietnam
And he told her of his heart
It might be love and all of the things he was so scared of
He said when it's getting kinda rough over here
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for awhile
Quinn wrote him first, the night he left, the night they met. She sent along a picture taken of her at the diner. He wrote back soon thereafter, telling her about boot camp and how he was still thankful for her 'send-off'. Later, he sent a picture of himself when boot camp ended, wearing a wifebeater and fatigues and boots, posing with his rifle. His smile made her cry.
She was back in school, two months after he left, when she sat down to write him the news. He was going to be a father. She sent her senior picture with that letter.
The last letter she received from him he said he could not be happier, that as soon as he returned from his tour he'd be back to Lima to take care of her and their baby. He said he knew it wasn't a proper proposal but still he asked her to marry him in that letter. She read his letter at the mailbox, then sucked in her breath to tell her parents of her and Sam and the baby on the way.
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier's coming home
One Friday night at a football game
The Lord's Prayer said and the Anthem sang
A man said folks would you bow your heads
For a list of local Vietnam dead
She was cheering at a football game and not feeling very well, so she asked her coach if she could sit out the halftime show. She had felt the urge to throw up and snuck away under the bleachers to do so when she heard the man at the microphone.
She then heard the name she never expected to hear...Private First Class Samuel Mason Evans. Her world, her life, came to a standstill.
She held her breath but then sobbed. Then puked.
"God no…" she whispered. "Not my Sam."
Crying all alone under the stands
Was a piccolo player in the marching band
And one name read and nobody really cared
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter says
A soldier's coming…
Six years later
She sat on a park bench, watching the children play. It was a warm late summer day and lately she had been lonely, even more so than usual. Maybe it had to do with the letter she received…Sam's belongings. She had contacted his parents after learning of his death. For some time, there was tension…then the grandchild arrived and they were family now. His mother sent his dog tags and a pink ribbon, telling Quinn it had been found on his person when he was identified.
In the park, she held his dog tags in her fist, suddenly angry again, for him being taken from her. She could feel the ridges of the letters and numbers stamped into the metal Evans, Samuel M then his social security number then O positive then Baptist. All of her Sam…held in her hand on a cold silver chain.
"Momma! Momma!" the tiny voice called to her, bringing her out of her memories. A miniature version of her Sam ran up to her. "Did you see me, momma? I went down the slide all by myself!"
She swept up the boy and held him tightly. She kissed his cheek, set him down, and brushed his sweaty blonde hair from his brow.
"I saw you, Mason…you're such a big boy now!" She stood up and took his hand. "What'd'ya say we go to the diner to get an ice cream? It's where I met your daddy."
The little boy smiled up at Quinn. "I'm gonna be just like my daddy!"
She held his hand tighter.
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter says
A soldier's coming home
A/N: I had to fudge a little on the draft information, moving it up in time and having it include 18-year-old's.