I want to see my babies. Please?" Why didn't you just go home?" I asked her. "You forget where we live or something?" Amy..." My dad squeezed me."What... No ... But see, Jimmy ... He'd find me, he'd ... He'd hurt me again, see?" Mom looked around nervously. "I can't stand her too long. He'll see me." Jimmy? Who's Jimmy?" Daddy asked, looking at my mom with confused eyes."Probably her pimp," I said with a snort. "I bet he's black or something." Yeah." Mom nodded, looking at me. "He's my pimp.. There was one paperwork line for next-of-kin, the final paperwork on whom we wanted notified if we got injured in training or shot up in Iraq. I had put Emily out of my mind fairly successfully over the last 2½ months, but for some reason, I wanted to put her down as the person to be notified. That was silly, and I couldn’t have if I had truly wanted to: I didn’t know her phone number or address. Tuesday, April 22, 2014 I was sitting at what passed for home for me, a bunkhouse on a cattle ranch. More

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