It would have been explosion number eight. Victor was with him. Same old story with a much worse ending. They were in a convoy of four Humvees, patrolling one of the city’s major thoroughfares. An RPG struck the Humvee in front, with fortunately little damage, but enough to bring the convoy to a temporary halt. Rusted and decaying cars lined both sides of the road. Shots broke out. Thibault jumped from the second Humvee in the convoy line to get a better line of sight. Victor followed him. They reached cover and readied their weapons. Twenty seconds later, a car bomb went off, knocking them clear and destroying the Humvee they’d been in only moments before. Three marines were killed; Victor was knocked unconscious. Thibault hauled him back to the convoy, and after collecting the dead, the convoy returned to the safe zone.
It was around that time that Thibault began to hear whispers. He noticed that the other marines in his platoon began to act differently around him, as if they believed Thibault were somehow immune to the rules of war. That others might die, but he would not. Worse than that, his fellow marines seemed to suspect that while Thibault was especially lucky, those who patrolled with him were especially unlucky. It wasn’t always overt, but he couldn’t deny the change in his platoon members’ attitude toward him. He was in Ramadi for two more months after those three marines died. The last few bombs he survived only intensified the whispers. Other marines began to avoid him. Only Victor seemed to treat him the same. Toward the end of their tour in Ramadi, while on duty guarding a gas station, he noticed Victor’s hands shaking as he lit a cigarette. Above them, the night sky glittered with stars.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m ready to go home,” Victor said. “I’ve done my part.”
“You’re not going to reup next year?”
He took a long drag from his cigarette. “My mother wants me home, and my brother has offered me a job. In roofing. Do you think I can build roofs?”
“Yeah, I think you can. You’ll be a great roofer.”
“My girl, Maria, is waiting for me. I’ve known her since I was fourteen.”
“I know. You’ve told me about her.”
“I’m going to marry her.”
“You told me that, too.”
“I want you to come to the wedding.”
In the glow of Victor’s cigarette, he saw the ghost of a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Victor took a long drag and they stood in silence, considering a future that seemed impossibly distant. “What about you?” Victor said, his words coming out with a puff of smoke. “You going to reup?”
Thibault shook his head. “No. I’m done.”
“What are you going to do when you get out?”
“I don’t know. Do nothing for a while, maybe go fishing in Minnesota. Someplace cool and green, where I can just sit in a boat and relax.”
Victor sighed. “That sounds nice.”
“You want to come?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll call you when I plan the trip,” Thibault promised.
He could hear the smile in Victor’s voice. “I’ll be there.” Victor cleared his throat. “Do you want to know something?”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
“Do you remember the firefight? The one where Jackson and the others died when the Humvee blew up?”
Thibault picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the darkness. “Yeah.”
“You saved my life.”
“No, I didn’t. I just hauled you back.”
“Thibault, I followed you. When you jumped from the Humvee. I was going to stay, but when I saw you go, I knew I had no choice.”
“What are you talking ab—?”
“The picture,” Victor interrupted. “I know you carry it with you. I followed your luck and it saved me.”
At first, Thibault didn’t understand, but when he finally figured out what Victor was saying, he shook his head in disbelief. “It’s just a picture, Victor.”
“It’s luck,” Victor insisted, bringing his face close to Thibault’s. “And you’re the lucky one. And when you are finished with your tour, I think you should go find this woman in the picture. Your story with her is not finished.”
“No—”
“It saved me.”
“It didn’t save the others. Too many others.”
Everyone knew that the First, Fifth had suffered more casualties in Iraq than any other regiment in the Marine Corps.
“Because it protects you. And when I jumped from the Humvee, I believed it would save me, too, in the same way you believe it will always save you.”