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Debra Wallen had expected her day to be filled with the usual drudgery of an Interns life for Fashion Blitz magazine. She never expected to be interviewing one of the world’s newest and biggest fashion designers this day. Not only was the woman a force to be reckoned with but a true mystery as well. Debra would be the first person to ever had a one on one interview with Ren Nagata.

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Chapter 1

Offices of Rococo Victorian Fashions, Present day.

Debra Wallen, seventeen-year-old high school journalist interturn for Fashion Blitz magazine; sat nervously in the outer waiting area of Rococo Victorian fashions. The brain child of Ren Nagata, fashion designer to the Lolitas of the world. The woman that Debra was here to see, and interview for Fashion Blitz magazine. A woman who was as big a mystery as her impact on the fashion industry. The woman who had brought Lolita fashion from a small niche market to a true international phenomenon.

Ren Nagata first appeared on the fashion world stage six years ago. The crazy part about the young and enigmatic woman was she wore her own designs. She practiced what she preached with her designs. Ren was a true Lolita, straight out of Japan. The problem was, other than Ren being from the Harajuku area of Tokyo, no one knew anything about the extremely feminine young woman. At the tender age of eighteen, she appeared out of nowhere, fully grown and fashionably beautiful.

Debra still couldn’t believe that she was even being given the chance to interview the mysterious Lolita. She had gone into work this morning as usual expecting to spend the day running around fetching coffee and filling reports for the real reporters. Only to have her boss ask her what school she went to. When Debra answered King’s Hills High, he sent her to Mrs. Celso’s office, the owner and editor. All Mrs. Celso told her was where to go, when to be there, and who she was to be interviewing. When Debra asked why her, Mrs. Celso snapped at her. Saying that if she couldn’t handle the assignment then she was fired. Debra jumped up saying she could get the job done and left the crazy woman’s office.

An hour later Debra was being escorted through the seven-story building to the private office area of Ren Nagata by one of the biggest security guards she had ever seen. One of the reasons that Debra was so nervous was the number of Lolitas she saw. Everywhere she looked there was at least two in every office. Even here on the Executive Floor the secretaries were all dressed in the height of Lolita fashion. What was crazy was the varying types of Lolitas she saw. There were Gothic, Punk, and Guro Lolitas in one office while right across the hall were the Sweet Lolitas right next to a pair of “Princess or Hime” Lolitas. She even saw a few ‘boy Lolitas and Lolita Princes’ working with some Wa Lolitas. By the time she reached Miss. Nagata’s office Debra’s head was spinning from the many styles that she saw.

The only style she had yet to see was the Aristocratic Lolita. Debra didn’t have much longer to wait. The Gothic Lolita secretary looked over at her and smiled. “Miss. Wallen you can go in now. Miss. Nagata is waiting.”

Debra stood up and grabbed her bag along with her briefcase heading for the door. “Thank ma’am. Before I go in can I ask you a quick question?”

“I’ll save you the time honey. I am a life style Gothic Lolita. No, Miss. Nagata doesn’t make any of us dress like this. We do it for our own pleasure.” The young said with a mile-wide smile. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been asked those questions before. She become used to answering them for her boss.

Debra was surprised that the secretary answered her questions without her even asking them. Debra couldn’t understand how the young woman knew what she was about to ask. Yet she answered as if she had been expecting Debra’s questions. “Um… thank you ma’am. You have a pleasant day.”

“You too, Miss.” The secretary said to Debra’s disappearing back. Once the doors to Nagata’s private office closed behind the girl the secretary chuckled and looked over at the other secretary for the CEO. “Miki, I almost feel sorry for the girl.”

“If she can’t handle OUR boss she’ll never make it in the industry, Shelly. You know how nice Miss. Nagata is better than anyone else in the company does.” The Princess Lolita looked over at the doors to their boss’s office. “Any idea why the boss is giving an interview after all these years Shelly?”

“Not a clue, Miki. All I know is Miss. Nagata came in yesterday in a really foul mood with that magazine the girl is working for. She just told me to call, and I am quoting here, that blue-haired, bible-thumping, rich assed, no-taste having, walking fashion disaster, dried up, worn out, cunt Brenda Celso. I don’t know what Celso did to piss off the boss, but it was big. I heard her screaming at the top of her lungs and threatening multimillion-dollar lawsuits.”

“Oh my god! You mean to tell me that you haven’t seen the cover of Fashion Blitz?” Miki asked her friend.

“No. You know I can’t stand that rag. Why? Should I have?” Shelly asked.

“Good lord Shelly! You really need to pay better attention to the rags. That crazy old bat over at Fashion Blitz stated the only person who should be allowed to interview Ren Nagata is a high school intern working in the mailroom. That’s why that young girl is in there right now. Miss. Nagata had Tom over in IT do a data base search of Fashion Blitz’s employees. Looking for just such an intern.” Miki started to giggle. “I saw the list of their interns and just knew that Miss. Nagata was going to put Celso in her place. That girl is the top of her class in her high school. She won that local junior reporter award. What’s it called?”

Shelly gave out a soft whistle and looked back at the door to their boss’s office. “You mean the Ira Joe Fisher for newest outstanding young journalist. And those dipshits over at Fashion Blitz had her working the mailroom?”

“Tell me about it. Talk about your waste of talent. I just hope the boss goes easy on the girl. You know how she can get at times.” Miki said as she too looked over at the door to their boss’s office. “Did you see that horrid outfit she was wearing?”

“I know. I mean what fashionably conscious young girl wears a skirt suit? And those shoes! My god! Those looked like they came out of the nineteen-forties. Sure, I know that the retro look is in with some of these kids, but a throwback to the forties office attire for women is a little much.” Shelly commented on the Debra’s clothing.

As both women giggled at Shelly’s little joke Ren Nagata was having a similar thought as well. ‘I wonder who dressed this child? Her great grandmother?’ she had looked the girl over when she entered her office. There was something about the way that Debra carried herself that screamed lack of self-confidence in Ren’s mind. ‘Much the way I was when I first met my grandparents.’

“Please take seat Miss. Wallen.” Ren said as she stood up and walked towards the in suite kitchenet. “Can I offer you tea, or a bottle of water?”

Debra blushed at first when Ren looked her over as if she was sizing her up like a piece of meat. “Um… water please ma’am?”

Ren smiled to put the young girl at ease as she reached into the refrigerator and grabbed her a bottle of water. Ren fixed herself a cup of tea then returned to her chair behind her desk waving for the girl to sit down. Ren could tell that the girl was scared to death at doing something to offend her. Ren decided to put her at ease and get the interview started.

“You must be bursting with questions, Miss. Wallen.” Debra nodded her and reached into her shoulder bag pulling out a pad and pen. “I guess your first question is why did I asked for someone like you?”

“To be honest, yes ma’am. I’m sure there are far more experienced reporters at Fashion Blitz that could give you a much better interview.” Debra answered.

“I know there are far more experienced reporters with your employer Miss Wallen. Just as there were far more experienced fashion designers in the world when I first started. Just like you I was looking for my first real break. Six years ago, I was given that break by another great fashion designer. This is my way of repaying that karma. The way I see it is simple. Nurture our young as they are our future.” Ren let a small smile grace her face. Debra couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

This woman was giving her the chance of a lifetime as a way to repay her good fortune. Debra quickly moved onto her first real question of the interview. “Miss. Nagata, I know that you have probably been asked this in the past, but there is so little known about you. Exactly when did you discover your talent for design? I mean no disrespect, but the Lolita style was such a small market. What drew you to export the style in the first place?”

Ren leaned back in her chair and smiled at the young girl thinking. ‘Yes, this one will go far. She cut straight to the heart of the interview while remaining respectful. Though I think I need to do something about her style.’

“Um… I think the best place to start that story is at the beginning. But first why don’t you come with?” Ren reached over and hit her intercom button. “Shelly, call down to the stash room. Let Alexei know that I need one Goth, one Hime, one Punk, and one Aristocrat set out size four junior miss.”

“Right away Miss. Nagata.” Shelly answered back quickly. “Does he have a time frame ma’am? And are there any color restrictions?”

Ren thought about her secretary’s questions as she looked over at Debra. “Fifteen minutes and he is to stick with winter colors for everything.”

“Yes, ma’am. One crash makeover.”

Debra was trying to figure out was going on as Ren stood up and walked around her desk. Taking the confused girl by the hand. “Why don’t we start with a little education on the Lolita lifestyle and clothing to answer your question Miss. Wallen.” With that Ren led the girl out of her office and back to the elevator. “I think that if you’re going to write a piece on Lolita’s you should understand what it means to be a Lolita.”

“Isn’t it just about dressing in more feminine style? A call back to the Victorian and Rococo age of design?” Debra was confused by the way the interview had gone.

“Oh no, Debra. May I call you Debra?” Debra just nodded her head at Ren’s question. “It is far more than just dressing up. In fact, it more of a way of lifestyle. You don’t dress for other people. You dress for yourself first. You see the term ‘Lolita’ comes from Vladimir Nabokov’s novel of the name, which is about a relationship between an adult male and a young girl, named Lolita. The term is sometimes used to refer to a sexually attractive young girl, but the fashion seeks to distinguish itself from this interpretation. For most Lolitas, the look is emphatically not about being ‘sexy’ or appealing to men’s ideas of what a woman should look like. It’s about reclaiming a traditional version of elegance and femininity. Lolita fashion should be empowering never degrading.”

As they entered the elevator Ren hit the button for the first floor. Turning to Debra she waved her hand at herself. “Take a look at me for example. What I am wearing is often referred as an Aristocratic Lolita.”

Debra truly looked at the way her host was dressed for the first time. There are no cutesy prints, lace, over-the-top frills, or bows. Her skirt was ankle length. Debra could tell that Ren was wearing a corset by her small waist. Debra could also tell that for Ren high corseted waists on skirts is common. As were the fitted jacket with tail and frilly shirts. The whole outfit was topped of with a top hat and veil. Her hand were covered in lace gloves. From head to toe Ren Nagata’s outfit was a deep, rich, almost black purple while her shirt was a contrasting brilliant ivory white. The choker that graced the woman’s slender neck matched the deep purple of her dress and jacket but was outlined in white with an antique broach. Debra could tell by the way Ren was dressed that she was a lifestyle Lolita.

“Do you ever wear a more casual look, Miss. Nagata?” Debra asked politely.

Ren chuckled and smiled. “The answer is, yes, Debra. I don’t always go out at the height of fashion.” Ren gave her an airily smirk. “I do have a more casual look for the days I don’t feel like dressing up. Though it is still in the Lolita style.”

“Excuse me, Miss. Nagata, but how can that be?”

Ren chuckled outright this time. “It’s tough to dress up like a Lolita every day, Debra. But if you want to really “be” a Lolita and not just costume-up for a cosplay or Anime convention, you can learn to integrate more basic elements into your look for a day-to-day Lolita style. There are various toned-down versions of the basic Lolita style, while still retaining the basic elements of the look. A simple skirt and simple hair accessory to pair with regular t-shirts and shoes. Taking the time to throw a single little “girly” element into your look to make it more pronounced. Mostly, you'll want to avoid long pants. Take the time to do your hair and make-up, as if you were dressed in your most elegant finery. Even if you're just rocking a t-shirt, your Lolita spirit will still be on display.”

“Wow. I never really thought about it like that.” Debra looked “Um… I know this sounds a little crazy, but is there a guide to being a Lolita?”

“If you truly wish to understand more about Lolitas then I would suggest that you read the Gothic and Lolita Bibles. There are a variety of these “Bibles” for Lolitas, the first ones were published in Japan in the early two-thousands, which have recently been translated into a variety of languages, English included. They feature photographs, style descriptions, and a variety of lifestyle guides. These books are common and popular among Lolitas and those interested in the style. The easiest place to find them is on Amazon. They’re only in paperback though.” Ren smiled as Debra scribbled away in her notebook. Ren could tell the girl was fascinated by the Lolita lifestyle and truly wanted to learn more.

“Um… I don’t know how to ask this next question without sounding rude Miss. Nagata.” Debra wanted to ask about the young men she had seen in the office area dressed in what could only be Lolita fashion. “It is about the young men you have working here. Are they um… well… um…”

“Are they gay?” Ren asked the question for her. Debra nodded her head. “I do employ a few gays, Debra, but it is not a prerequisite for Boy Lolitas. The truth is that it is very rare to find a Boy Lolita that is gay.”

“The only reason I asked ma’am. Is the number of Boy Lolitas that I saw in your offices. I was kind of surprised.” Debra figured that she should be honest with Ren.

It took Ren a few minutes to figure out what Debra was talking about as she only had three Boy Lolitas working for her. And they all worked in the shipping Department on the ground floor. They never came near the upper floors. Then the light went off in her head. “Oh my! I am sure that the girls in my Boy Lolita division will be getting a real hoot out of hearing this. Those young ladies always love to push the boundaries for that line.”

Seeing the confused look on Debra’s face Ren knew she needed to explain. “While Lolita is often thought to be pretty ‘girly,’ some looks incorporate masculine styles and ‘boy clothes’ into the look, Debra. It’s a cool way to shake up people's expectations and play around with the style. There are some Lolitas who do the whole sailor or nautical theme. Sailor collars, dark blues, and whites is what makes this style. Nautical symbols such as ship anchors and wheels make very cute additions. Like most Lolita styles the same bell-shaped skirt is expected, quite often this skirt may be pleated, and the outfit may often include a puffed-short-sleeved blouse with pockets. Then there is what we call the Kodona or ‘boy style’. It is another common sub-genre of Lolita fashion. This has feminine touches, such as feminine shoes and accessories with short capri-style pants that cut off at the knee and usually have details on them such as lace-edged cuffs or ruffles. Other common additions for ‘butching-up’ the look are suspenders, ties, bowler caps and long socks. The more extravagant styles can include things like spats, canes, top hats, and other Victorian accessories.”

“Wow! I never realized the vast differences between styles among Lolitas. Um… up in your office you had your secretary call someone. Who are we going to see?”

“We are going to see your personal stylist Debra. No young lady should be dressed in such an outdated style. I take it your style is influenced by your mother?” Ren had figured that the young lady was dressed by one of her elders.

“No ma’am.” Debra blushed at how close Ren was to who had helped her dress and picked out most of her clothing. “My parents passed away when I was only six. My grandparents raised me. My grandmother has a slightly dated sense of what is proper office attire I’m afraid. But I just can’t well tell her how wrong she is, I owe her so much. Her and papaw are all I have.”

“It seems that you and I have a great deal in common, Debra.” At the girl’s look of confusion Ren smiled. “I too was raised by my grandparents.”

The elevator doors opened on the first floor. Ren took Debra by the hand and led her over to the showroom. As they walked through the doors a Dark Princess Lolita greeted them both. “Ren, why on earth have you thrown my staff into a tizzy? We don’t have time for you to go changing the spring line up.”

In answer to the woman’s question Ren just stepped to the side and pointed to Debra. The response was immediate. Alexie started shouting orders. “Stephany, Tabitha, undergarments, size three, no size four, junior miss. Full complement for a Dark Princess. I want dark blues, reds, purples, and bright whites. Stevie put the Goth, and Punk back. Gorgio wash, dye, and set, with purple highlights.”

Debra was swept up by the sales people and beauticians as they set to work on her makeover. She could not believe that she was being given a full makeover under the direct care of Ren Nagata’s personal stylist. If this was the price she had to pay for the interview, then she was willing to pay. Besides she could always change back after she got the interview. She did wonder what Ren meant by them having something in common. Thankfully Ren sat down in a chair next to her as she was having her hair washed, dyed, and dried.

“Earlier Debra, you politely asked me what drew me to export the Lolita style in the first place. The answer to that is not an easy answer. You see I need to take you back in time to Fort Knox, Kentucky. For me it was the third posting in the first fourteen years of my life.” At the stunned look on the young girl’s face had Ren close to laughing. “That’s right, Debra. I was an Army brat.”

“I thought you were Japanese, Miss. Nagata?”

“I am Japanese, Debra, but my father was an American serviceman when he met my mother serving in Torii Station military base. Run by the United States in Japan. It is the home of the US Army. It is located close to Okinawa, in Yomitan. My mother was the oldest daughter of a civilian contractor that worked on the base. Remember when I said we had a great deal in common?” Ren smiled sadly when Debra nodded. “Well, I too lost my parents at a young age. I was thirteen when they were killed by a drunk driver trying to out run the High Patrol.”

Ren sighed and leaned back in the chair. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to those first few months following the death of her parents. As she did so Debra pulled out the small cassette recorder her grandmother had given her for just such a situation. Ren knew that her staff would keep what was said here to themselves. As for Debra she could tell by the way the beauticians were acting that she might not want to record what Ren was about to say. The decision was taken out of her hands when Alexie took the recorder and pressed the record button.

Ren didn’t care, as she was one-hundred-thirty-one miles and fourteen years in the past. The place was the Fort Knox post movie theaters. The time was just after nine pm and the movies were changing. She was there with her best friend in the world Tommy Long and she was still a young boy by the name of Raymond. A time when no one knew his secret and he was happy being the son of Steve and Mishi Rockwell.

The front steps of the Fort Knox Post Cinemas, Fort Knox, Kentucky, 2100: August 2004.

Raymond Rockwell and Tommy Long exited the movie theater in great moods. They had just seen Alien vs Predator at the early showing. Both boys enjoyed going to the movies on base as it was cheap entertainment and during the dog days of summer someplace cool to relax. They often shared the theater with base trainees from over at the training battalions. For the two US Army dependents or BRATS, life was good. For Raymond it couldn’t have been better. His dad was eight months into this posting and his mom had gotten a job on post which meant they wouldn’t be moving.

Ray didn’t know what his mother did, but it was in the Provost Marshal’s Office. Which was kind of funny seeing as how his father was the First Sergeant for the local MP company. Something that they had celebrated with a trip to Red Lobster. His father’s promotion to E-8 First Sergeant was twenty years in the making. Thirteen of which Raymond had been witness to. Raymond remembered the long hours his father put in studying for the next Promotion Board, or College course at their home’s kitchen table. Not that his mother was a slouch in the brains department. On the contrary. Mishi Rockwell was as smart as she was beautiful.

Raymond looked over at Tommy, his newest friend. “Looks like we’ll get home just before curfew. If we leave now that is.”

“Pretty much. We got maybe forty minutes before sunset and the Mud Puppies bust us for being out past curfew.” Tommy bitched.

“Hay! No busting on my dad’s troops there, buddy boy. It’s not their fault the Post Commander is a dick. I still can figure out why he signed off on that order.” Raymond felt he should defend his dad’s officers.

“I hear ya man, but that doesn’t make it any easier on us. I do know why the GC signed that order. It all started about three to four weeks before you moved in. A bunch of the high schoolers were busted out on one of the tank gunnery training ranges.” The second that Raymond heard this he wanted to wince. The ranges Tommy was talking about was a live fire range. There could have been live main gun rounds for a tank out there. “They weren’t doing anything wrong really. Just having a little bonfire party and drinking some beer. I still don’t see what all the fuss was over. It’s not like they were trying to break into the ammo bunkers.”

“Jees, oh Pete! Tommy can you get any dumber?” Before Tommy could punch Raymond, he explained what those teens did that was so stupid. “THOSE are live fire ranges. They always have live rounds stored out there in the bunkers. The training battalions use them for more than just the tanks man. They use them for everything. There is no telling what kind of unexploded shit is out there on those ranges.”

Tommy turned white as he realized what Raymond was talking about. There was always stories of kids and teens finding unexploded ordnance on military posts. The stories were usually true as were the tragic endings for those stories. Neither boy wanted to think about the last time a kid found something that went boom in their home killing the whole family at the dinner table. Instead they walked over and got their bikes out of the rack and started the ride home.

As they entered their housing complex Tommy broke off from Raymond heading toward his family’s house over in officer country. Raymond just waved to his friend as he head for his new house. This was the fifth house in he had lived in, in his short life. As Raymond approached the house he spotted the MP radio patrol car in the driveway. Knowing that his mom and dad were supposed to be at some fancy dinner over at the CG’s house Raymond peddled harder. “It’ll just be my luck that dad sent a patrol car to pick me up.”

As Raymond approached the car a young Second Lieutenant climbed out on the passenger side while a Staff Sergeant exited the driver’s side. Raymond knew this was not good. Thinking fast he cataloged everything he might have done wrong for the past week. Coming up with a blank for them to be here Raymond approached them causally. The Lieutenant was the first to speak.

“Excuse me young man but are you Raymond Rockwell?”

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant. How can I help you?” Raymond knew that respect for the rank went a long way with the military.

“We need you to come with us.” The Lieutenant said and point towards the car.

“You’ll have to forgive me sir, but unless you can give me a solid reason for getting in that cruiser then I’m going inside and calling my father.” Raymond knew his rights. He also knew what he could and couldn’t do on a military post.

“This concerns both of your parents, Raymond.” The Staff Sergeant said sadly. “Look, kiddo, we really need to take this back to the station.”

Raymond could tell by the Staff Sergeant’s attitude that it was bad. Whatever was going on he knew he had to go with these men. “Just let me put away my bike Sergeant. I don’t need my dad bitching me out about leaving it out and unsecured. Okay?”

“Sure son. Take care of your business.” The Staff Sergeant said with a sad smile. The man knew that the news awaiting Raymond would be devastating. How do you tell a teenager he just became an orphan? Once Raymond had his bike put up the two MPs drove him over to the Provost Marshall station. The Staff Sergeant hung back as his Lieutenant escorted the boy inside. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes cigarettes and lit one up.

An E-4 Specialist walked by the Sergeant. “Yow Sergeant Killer, what’s up?”

“You know that TA over on Rout One-A?”

“Yah, everyone has heard about that. Is it true that the new Top and his wife were involved in that traffic accident?” The Specialist asked.

“Yup. You saw that kid the LT was escorting?” The Specialist nodded his head at the Sergeant’s question. “Well that was their kid. The bitch is, there is no Family of record for the Top and only the family for the wife is in Japan.”

“OH SHIT! Talk about a cluster fuck waiting to happen. What will happen to the kid?” The Specialist asked with more concern than would be expected.

“Don’t know Miller. I’m not in the loop on this one.” The Staff Sergeant took a drag of his cigarette then exhaled. “Do me a solid? Pass the word to the rest of the patrol. Whoever ran Top off the road doesn’t see the inside of the courtroom.”

The young Specialist turned cold and gave the Staff Sergeant a nod. “Coroners Justice, Sergeant. I got it, and so will everybody else.”

The Sergeant just smiled as the Specialist walked over to his patrol car. He knew that somewhere out there a drunk driver was about to have a very bad day. One that may end up with a trip to the Coroner’s office. The Provost Marshall and local boys in blue may not like what was about to happen to the suspects in the accident but that was just the Fog of War in his mind. Justice would be served one way or the other. Military Police were not the same when it comes to someone killing one of their own. They can be more than willing to take the law into their own hands.

Inside Raymond was lead to the office for Lieutenant Colonel Richard McCloud. Raymond knew that whatever was going on it was really bad for him to be in the Provost’s office at this time at night. As he waited for the man to show up. Raymond heard more than one MP talking about taking matters in their own hands about what happened to Top Rockwell and Mrs. Rockwell. Raymond turned and stood up when Lieutenant Colonel McCloud walked into his office.

McCloud took one look at the boy in his office and sighed. As much as he loved his job there were times like this that he truly hated it. It was his duty to inform the families of his soldiers when they died in the line of duty. This was a given in a war zone and families were usually prepared for the event. But how do you tell a teenage boy that both of his parents were killed in a senseless accident. This was one duty Lieutenant Colonel Richard McCloud was woefully unprepared to care out.

He knew the kid was about to go through an extremely rough time in his young life. The kid’s size and looks weren’t going to help him either. The biggest problem was going to be finding his extended family. Until then he would be spending time in a foster home. This was one time where the civilian laws were going to trump whatever the military wanted. First though he had to tell this kid he was now an orphan.

Raymond looked up at Colonel McCloud and saw something in the man’s face that he never expected to see. Pity. Raymond really knew something was wrong now. “Sir, where are my parents? Why haven’t they been brought in?”

McCloud placed his right hand on Raymond’s shoulder and leaned down. “Son I don’t really know how to tell you this, so I’ll get straight to the point. Your parents won’t be joining us. They were forced off the road and killed earlier this evening by a drunk driver. We’re still hunting for the drunk. One way or another that person will see justice for what they did.”

Raymond felt his world fallaway at this news. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Raymond looked down at his hands as they started to shake with anger. His parents were dead, he was now an orphan, and the sorry sack of shit responsible for his pain was still at large. Raymond didn’t even notice the first drops of tears as they fell onto his quaking hands. McCloud did though and whispered to the very distraught boy. “Let it out son. You go ahead and let it all out.”

It didn’t take long after hearing those words that Raymond let the pain, rage, and anguish out in a howl that filled the Provost Marshal’s office. Out in the NCIC the Duty Sergeant gave his RTO a dirty look as the Specialist went to say something. “Not one fucking word Stone. That kid has every right to be upset. I’m surprised he’s this composed. Whatever happens if that drunk shows his ass on this Post he doesn’t see a Court Marshal. Pass the word.”

“You got it, Serge.” Specialist Stone keyed the radio. “All units drop down to channel two. I say again drop down to channel two.” With that simple order Stone set in motion a set of motions that would bring about the street justice for First Sergeant Rockwell and his wife.

Raymond cried for the better part of twenty minutes before he could finally dry his eyes. When he finally looked back up at Colonel McCloud his voice croaked. “What will happen to me, sir? Can I even go home for now?”

Colonel McCloud gave the boy a sad look. “I’m sorry son, but by law we have to turn you over to Child Services. Until then you’ll be staying here. If you have to spend the night, we’ll make room for you over in the Enlisted Barracks.”

Before Raymond could ask another question, the Duty Sergeant knocked on the door jam. “Sir we just got a call from the townies. The suspect had a single car TA. The meat wagon is in rout to take him into custody as we speak.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Any word on the Child Advocate?” McCloud asked with some relief. At least the drunk wouldn’t be getting out on bail or seeing the inside of a cell. The man was dead and that was the end. Justice served in his mind.

“About that, sir. It seems that the local Child Services Advocate wants to talk with you before trying to find a place for Mr. Rockwell.” He point to the Colonel desk phone. “She is holding on line four sir.”

“What’s the problem Sergeant? Why would they need to talk with me first?”

The Sergeant sighed. “Sir, it has something to do with finding a home to place Mr. Rockwell. The local foster homes are full or will only take preteens.”

Colonel McCloud could tell there was something else that his Duty Sergeant wasn’t saying, and it had to do with Raymond. Reaching over he picked up the receiver and hit the button for line four. “Lieutenant Colonel Richard McCloud here. Who do I have the pleasure of talking with? Thank you, Ms. Honeysuckle I hope that you can help me out. You see we have a dependent who has just lost their parents in a traffic accident. Yes, the dependent is a minor. He’s fourteen. What in the name of hell does that have to do with the price of tea in Shanghai? Look Ms. Honeysuckle by law this is a civilian matter. No, we can’t just put the boy with a family on Post. What the hell is your problem? Just do your job and find the boy a foster family. I don’t care what you have to do. What do you mean it’ll be a few days if not next week? Damn it lady I told we cannot do that by law. No, we are not going to just put the boy in a holding cell. What are you nuts? Okay we can do that. Understand that you will be out here in the morning and I will want answers. Goodnight.” When McCloud returned the receiver to its cradle he slammed it down.

“Gods be damn, lazy, good for nothing, moving hard target, absolutely worthless bureaucrats. I couldn’t find a lazier assed REMF if I tried.” Raymond looked up at the PM with wide unbelieving eyes. He had never seen or heard a PM raise so much hell over anyone like this before in his young life. For Raymond it would be these Officers that were always the finest of examples for all Army Officers in his young eyes. “Sergeant get me the DO and have him report back here immediately.”

“Yes sir. That’ll be Captain Marks, sir. I’ll go ahead and call over to our barracks. I’ll let the QC know we need a room and bed for Mr. Rockwell while we’re waiting on the Captain. I’ll also arrange for a meal-ticket and get one of the patrol units to take the kid back to his place, so he can pick up a change of clothes along with his toilet kit. He’ll need that in the morning, sir.”

“I’ll take him home myself Sergeant. The other suggestions you can carry out.” McCloud turned to Raymond. “Come on, son. Let’s take you home and get those supplies. I have a feeling that you’re going to need them.”

The young boy stood up as if walking towards the gallows. Raymond knew three things for now that were his main concern. One, the person who had caused his parents’ deaths was now dead themselves. Second, the Army would take care of him for the foreseeable future. It was like his father always told him, the Military take care of their own. And thirdly his secret would remain his for now.

At just after midnight Colonel McCloud escorted a very tired Raymond Rockwell into the 566th Military Police Company Barracks. The CQ or Charge of Quarters for that night was a young Corporal by the name of Lisa Martian. The twenty-year-old MP took over escort duties for Raymond the moment McCloud and Raymond walked through the doors. She could tell the boy was close to dropping out. After showing Raymond where his room was Lisa left the boy alone to unpack. Raymond quickly unpacked his clothes for the next weeks. After that he grabbed his shower kit then went and took a quick shower. Once showered he laid down on the single bed in the room and fell into a very fitful sleep. In the morning the new CQ showed Raymond where he could get something to eat. Some of the soldiers in the CONONE Mess-hall gave Raymond a strange look before going back to their meals. Other than that, no one bothered the boy. The few MPs that were eating in the mess-hall knew who he was made sure that no one bothered Raymond.

Over the next five weeks Raymond’s days were filled with a blind mind-numbing drudgery as he waited for the State to find him a place to stay. That or a member of his extended family to take him in. He already knew that it was hopeless looking in here in the States. The only person on his father’s side, an Aunt that could take him in had already informed the Child Services Agent that she couldn’t. That was four days ago. The real bitch was the local CS Agent couldn’t find a foster home for Raymond anywhere. They all said that he was too old. One though said that they couldn’t deal with a half-breed in their home.

The biggest problem though wasn’t finding a foster home. No, it was trying to handle all the details of the funerals for his parents. The boy was overwhelmed with all the many forms and insurance policies that had to be taken care of. If not for the Judge Advocate Office Raymond would have been lost. They had assigned a young Captain during the fourth week to help the boy. It was this Captain that found his parents Wills and emergency contact information.

He quickly contacted his father’s sister. It was only then that the reason behind her turning Raymond away was brought to light. Raymond’s aunt was currently a resident in a long-term health center. The woman was paralyzed from the neck down. She had been this way for the last five years and in no condition to take care of a teenage child. With the last of the Rockwell family now out of the picture the young man went in search of his mother’s family. It took the Captain getting ahold of the State Department to find them. Mishi Rockwell had been born Mishi Nagata in the town of Yomitan in Okinawa, Japan. The State Department was finally able to make contact with Raymond’s grandparents two days ago.

Raymond was sitting in his usual spot in CONONE at lunch time when Captain Jason Hill found him. One of the things that amazed the young Army Captain was the way the boy had comported himself over the last five and a half weeks. Most early teenagers would have been throwing an emotional bitch fest over the death of their parents, not being able to move about freely, or even having to stay in an Army barracks. Not Raymond though. He had held his head high from the fourth day. Even when they held the memorials for his parents he refused to take anyone’s pity. It was if the boy was willing to take on the world with no one by his side. Just to prove that he was worthy of his father’s name. Even the Provost had commented on how the boy was acting. Stating that he hoped his daughter married a young man as fine as Raymond Rockwell. That was high praise coming from Colonel McCloud.

Walking up to the table that was filled with three Military Police Specialists and Raymond, Captain Hill smiled down at the boy. “Excuse me gentlemen, but I need a word with Raymond. Would you mind?”

The Specialist sitting across the table from Raymond stood up grabbing his tray. “No problem, sir. We’ll catch you later Ray.”

“Sure, Specialist Davis. You guys be careful out there. And remember to watch each other’s backs.” Raymond told them in much the fashion his father would have. He watched as the three young men bussed their trays and left the mess-hall to carry out their afternoon patrol duties. Raymond envied the three men as they had something to fill their days, whereas all he had was endless waiting. Waiting to find out what the worthless bureaucrats had for him to deal next. He had come to truly understand Lieutenant Colonel McCloud’s attitude towards bureaucrats. “What can I do for you this afternoon, Captain? More insurance paperwork.”

Sitting down across from Raymond Hill placed his briefcase in the empty seat next to him before smiling. “Nope. Today is a day that I have been working long and hard for Raymond. We found your family. Well, to be exact, we’ve found your grandparents.”

For the first time in almost six weeks Raymond saw a ray of hope in what has been a dark time in his young life. “Really sir? You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

“I would never make that kind of joke, Raymond.” Hill was dead serious as he went on to explain what would happen over the next few days. “Now, over the next few days there a few things that need to happen. The first of which is we need to get your quarters squared away for your grandparents’ arrival. By ‘we’ I mean the both of us. They and you will be staying there until the final arrangements for your parents can be made. While that is happening, your quarters will need to be packed up and clean for final inspection by Housing.”

“Captain, any idea of where the Household Goods should be sent?”

“That will be up to your grandparents. I can tell you that most of it will be placed into storage until they can decide on how it such be dispensed.” Hill stood up and motioned for Raymond to do so as well. “Time to get a move on Raymond. We don’t have a lot of time to get ready for your grandparents’ arrival.”

“Um… sir I know this is going to sound crazy. What happens if it is not my grandparents but one of my mother’s brothers or sister? Do I still go with them?”

“Nothing will change Raymond. The only difference will be your aunt or uncle having to take responsibility for your wellbeing.” Little did Captain Hill know just how far his simple answer would go wrong. Even as he and Raymond were cleaning Raymond’s on post house, Yoshi Nagata was flying nonstop from Tokyo International Airport to Cincinnati International Airport. No one could know the impact of that first meeting on young Raymond’s life that Yoshi Nagata, the youngest child of Eiji and Kazue Nagata, and baby sister to Mishi, would have on that fateful day.

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This is a back burner story that I have been sitting on for the past few years. Weather or not, I continue with posting this story will be up to my readers comments. I look forward to reading them and hope that you will want to read more.

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