In the epilogue chapter of A.T.X.D. Rising Darkness (Book 5 of the series), main characters First Sergeant Richard Johnson and Captain Ashley Miller have finally married and now we are seeing a honeymoon scene at the latter's childhood home in Pasadena, Los Angeles. It's a quiet scene, but it gives yet another eye-opening look into the happier parts of Ashley's past given her experience as a battle-hardened yet still beautiful and caring soldier.
Like Richard’s place back in Colorado, Ashley’s room had been kept relatively tidy and undisturbed by her parents. But like any child’s bedroom, it was here among a scattered array of personal treasures and articles that the Captain’s true tomboy colors showed: instead of dolls, there were action figures of female athletes or strong women characters from movies and video games. Instead of pink, Ashley’s bedroom had been painted a shade of blue that had faded to an almost sky-like ambiance. And the walls were still tagged with a well-organized, scrapbook array of photos of Ashley through the ages: a little 4th grade girl running with her mom at a morning school jog; a graceful ballerina performing in a school production of The Nutcracker; a middle school softball player with a stone-hard look of determination and her bat held at the ready; a mid-teenager in a military fatigue costume and construction boots pretending to be a G.I.; and a high school senior in a flashy street-kid costume performing on stage with her fellow dance teammates.
“I’ve heard from some of your Stealth Angels that you were also a Bruins soccer girl, Ashley,” Richard commented as he continued to gaze over the photos. “Cassy even says you’re a Mia Hamm-equivalent.”
“*Pssht*, by her standards,” Ashley playfully scoffed, “which, to be fair, are highly accurate given Cassy’s own experience in the sport. But still, I would not have been worthy of a place in the Hall of Champions.”
“Um, something about this photo suggests to me otherwise.” Richard had been looking through one of a few photo albums he had been given permission by his wife to observe, this one focusing on her late high school and college years, when he found a photo of the Captain on the soccer field. Next to a team picture where an only-slightly younger Ashley knelt amongst a group of gleefully tough blue-uniformed ladies, Richard saw a photo of his wife gallantly charging at the ball in an attempt to sweep it towards the goal net. Adjacent to this photo was of a different game at night: Ashley was facing to the right of the camera, having deflected the ball off her chest and preparing to fire it towards an unseen target with her knee. A small cluster of grass particles fluttering around under her momentarily airborne cleats and barely reflected in the field lighting suggested that Ashley was midway through a dash across the field when the ball came flying her way, forcing her to adapt on the spot, jump and fire it back in a hopefully advantageous direction. So much like the quick-witted and adaptable Captain I know, Richard thought to himself.
Opening up the closet, meanwhile, Ashley was heartily elated to find, amongst the arrangement of shirts and jackets, her old UCLA Bruins soccer jersey. And down below, mounted on a couple shoe boxes above some more casual footwear, the Captain was even more surprised to find her old but relatively polished Adidas Copa Mundial soccer cleats that she used to wear in college. But carefully secured by the blunt spikes of both shoes, Ashley found a note written on a full-sized piece of notepaper by her Mom. Picking up the boots in one hand, Ashley retrieved the note in the other and read it silently:
To my All-Star-Ashley,
Just a family heirloom to remind me of the tomboy and girly warrior your father and I raised. But why a pair of shoes? Well, first of all, I remembered how much of a sneaker fan you’ve always been since you were little. But more importantly, because these aren’t just any old-fashioned soccer boots. To me, they are a symbol of you as a person. I didn’t understand it at first when we were shopping for soccer gear Downtown prior to your first quarter and you picked up this pair from the men’s aisle. Although I wanted you to try something more modern and, I’ll regretfully admit, appropriate to your gender, I remember how firmly you wanted this pair because they made you feel like one of those World Cup superstars from the 90s. And after all the games I attended to watch you play, I could see just how right you were. So when you left for the Navy and then that A.T.X.D. force you couldn’t tell me about until only a few months ago, I held onto your cleats because, being an athlete myself, they were one of the best physical things I could use to preserve you in my memory…. especially if I lost you.
In preparation for the life ahead of you, I thoroughly polished up these babies as something for you to carry into the future. Hopefully, you will use them again for their intended purpose on the field of play. But even if you don’t, let these world cup beauties be a reminder for you, and a symbol to that lucky husband of yours, that you are a strong girl who will firmly dig in when the going gets tough, leave her mark where it will show the greatest, and score every goal she sets her mind to.
Good luck in life “Captain”, and please try to link up with Dad and I again whenever you can.
Much love,
Mom
Ashley was on the verge of crying as she re-read a couple parts of the note. She then took a moment to hold both of her old college soccer shoes in either hand and gently clap their soles and cleats together, to which they responded with a few firm thumping clicks. She also bent down, lined up one shoe with the sole of her old-school Vans hi-top sneaker, and was relieved to find that, from this vantage point, the Adidas boot still seemed to match her current shoe size despite it having been almost a decade since she last wore these.
The Captain’s fascination with this blast from the past was then distracted when Richard commented, “Hello, what’s this?” When Ashley looked up, her husband pointed to a photo in the scrapbook of her in high school among a group of girls who were all holding football helmets. Some of them, including Ashley, had black no-glare stickers smoothed over their cheeks, and they all looked ferociously determined. “Is that what I think it is?”
“A powderpuff game? Yup,” Ashley replied with a sheepish grin and a soft nod. “Where the boys goof off as cheerleaders and the girls do the hardcore charging and tackling. That was a game to remember. In fact, Mom didn’t know about it until the night I played. Hoh God, she flipped her lid way off.”
“Why?”
“Have you not watched football before, Richard? Mom was worried that her baby girl was going to get all dirty and bruised in a game she felt was bloodsport; maybe even worried I was going to get a concussion that night.”
“And was she right?”
“Well, I got bruised, a little muddy, and tossed around that night by some of the junior girls. But I persevered without a head injury or losing a tooth…and maybe I scored a touchdown once. Mom was still a little nerve-racked after that night, but still commended me for my victory and persistence.”
“Wow, and to think I’ve only known you for about six years. I feel like there was so much about you I missed the opportunity to see.”
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