Karma by Alaina Beaulaurier

“Sgt. Fernandez is a whore” stared at me from the back of a porta-potty door. Its sloppy letters were scribbled in black Sharpie, permanently hand-written in a little corner of government property. I slowly scanned over the other words scribbled on the back of the locked door. Most of these slurs were about women I never met. Their only lasting impression on this battalion were the dirty words written about their genitals emblazoned on these four plastic walls. I shuffled my M16 rifle out of the way with my foot, making room for my hand to reach into my cargo pocket. I dug for a tampon only to come up with nothing. Shit. I had used my last one.

The nearest tampon available was stuck in a rucksack 30 feet away from my seat. I shifted my weight uncomfortably, thinking about the available solutions. Usually I would call another female to come to the rescue. But I was the only female in a 17-mile radius of unforgiving sun, dirt, and gun ranges. There would be no woman waving a white flag of relief today.

“Hey, Gates?” My voice sounded unnatural and weak. I adjusted my tone and tried another yell, a little more assertive this time. “Gates!”

An awkward “Yeah?” met my ears.

“Hey, I uh … I need you to get something out of my pack.” I tried to make my voice sound as cavalier as possible.

“What?” Gates’ voice was flat. I could picture his face twisted up in confusion, imagining what sort of request this had to be.

“In the outer left pocket of my ruck I have some tampons. Could you bring me one?” My voice was met with dead silence. After a moment I heard footsteps walking away. “Thank you!” I called after him, in the fleeting hope that he was indeed retrieving a tampon and not leaving me stranded.

The shuffling of his boots returned, and I heard a loud thump against the side of the porta-potty. “There,” he said.

“It’s in the left pocket,” I directed from inside the four walls.

A pause was followed by a low grumble, “Yeah … I’m not touching any of those things. Here’s your rucksack.” The sound of his footsteps retreated towards the range. I popped the door open a couple inches and reached around the side of the porta-potty corner. I pulled the ruck closer to me and reached inside, grasping a plastic, pink tube of sanctuary.

—

“Your rucks need to be at least 33 pounds,” a voice rang out over the dozens of soldiers. Their green Kevlar helmets bobbed like lily pads on the surface of a small pond. I slipped through the crowd, looking for a familiar face. “We will weigh your pack at the beginning of the march and at the end. If your rucksack is not 33 pounds at the end of the 12 kilometers, you will be eliminated. Do not include your water during the weigh in. If you drink your weight and come up short at the end, you will be eliminated.”

In the sea of green, I spotted Mayfield and made my way over to him. This was the third military competition that we had finished together. “Are you ready for this march?” I sang out.
“Yeah, have you already done the weigh in?” Mayfield looked down at my bag. His hand reached out and secured a loose strap.

“Mmhmm,” I nodded my head. My Kevlar was a size too big. The bounce of my nod caused my helmet to fall over my eyes, obscuring my vision. “This fucking helmet that Garcia gave me is enormous. I’m going to be blind the entire jog.”
“Already giving excuses for coming in last I see?” Mayfield joked as my hand slammed the helmet back in place.

“Those are fighting words, Mayfield. I would watch it if I were you.”

A voice called out over my right shoulder, “Hey Beau!” It was Gates.
I turned to see him making his way through the crowd. “Hey, what’s up?”

Gates spoke in a quiet mutter, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was thinking, since you’re the only woman competing here and all … I can help you out if you want.”

I could feel my face darken as I stared at his determined expression.

“If you want,” He continued, “You can put some of your weight into my ruck, and I’ll set it down near the finish line. Then you can grab it back before you weigh in at the end.”

He really doesn’t think I can do this, I thought to myself. He pities me. I tried to compose my thoughts, but before I could take a breath the words, “Fuck you,” flew from my lips.

Gates let out a nervous laugh, “Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding. Seriously, fuck you, Gates,” anger swelled with every word that left my mouth.
His mouth seemed to hesitate before finally breaking into a smile, “Honestly, sometimes I can’t tell when you’re joking or not. Your sarcasm can be so thick. You let me know if you need me, okay?” Gates’ sparkly white teeth almost blinded me as his grin widened.

“Thanks for the generous offer, but I’m good,” I said. The heel of my boot stepped off in a brisk march away, rage fueling every step. All around us soldiers started to surge forward towards the starting line.

Here we go, I thought to myself. See you in seven miles.

—

A red sign that marking the end appeared at last after miles of monotonous dirt. I had been on Gates’ tail for the entire race. Sweat had soaked through every inch of my uniform, creating a white mask of salt as the beating sun dried it to my skin. I could hear cheers ahead as the finish line neared. My body ached as I willed myself to go faster. The rucksack cut divots into my shoulders and hips.

Gates crossed the finish, his figure immediately collapsing. Disappointment welled up inside me. I had a fantasy of beating him, and the realization hit me that I would not be able to beat his time. Silhouettes of the scorers started to come into focus as I neared the finish line. Cheers slowly diminished and shocked whispers broke out. An astonished voice rang out from the time keeper, “Is that the girl? Fifth place out of the entire company?”
I should have been proud. Fifth place out of 70 soldiers wasn’t terrible. I thought bitterly, but it would have been so good to beat Gates. I crossed the finish line and immediately shrugged off my pack, feeling the soreness of every muscle as the pounds slid from my shoulders. Hernandez came by to weigh my gear. His voice towered over me as I laid spread eagle on the ground, “Damn Karma, you really sucked wind going up that hill.”

“Karma?” I asked.

He smiled, obviously glad that I had asked. “Yeah, Karma. I figured Karma is a bitch, and you’re the only bitch here that gave everyone what was coming to them. No one thought you would score in the top half, let alone fifth place.”
I laughed, unsure of whether this was a compliment or not. “Whatever, I’ll take it. I just want a shower.”

—

I slipped out of my tent, rushing toward the crowd that was slowly queuing. It was our last night in the field, and awards were about to be given. Taking my place at the back of my platoon, I tried to peer over the heads of those in front. Mosquitoes relentlessly landed on the bare skin of my face and neck. I jerked, irritated by the insects’ touch.

“Stop moving around,” my squad leader berated from my right.

I rolled my eyes. Like anyone can actually see me back here, I thought to myself. I begrudgingly stopped squirming and let the mosquitoes feed freely.

A light breeze kicked up dust while the sun went down, giving the sky a hazy orange hue. Silence broke out over the group of soldiers. The award ceremony had begun. The first, second, and third place recipients were called to the front of the formation. Their earned distinctions were accompanied by little silver coins presented by the Command Sergeant Major himself. He wasn’t a brief speech giver; his words drawled on while my thoughts wandered toward the cot I would be sleeping on once the formation was released.

“Specialist Beaulaurier, post!” rang out across the formation. Startled, I fell out in a jog and ran to the front of the formation. My hand snapped to a salute, wondering why I had been called out if I had not placed in this competition. The Sergeant Major’s droning voice echoed out, “Specialist Beaulaurier was the only female to participate in this competition. For this, she has earned a Sergeant Major’s coin. Thank you for your participation.” His weathered face looked worn from the many speeches he had given over his career. I could see laugh lines neighboring his pale blue eyes. A tiny peak of the silver coin glimmered from the inside of his palm as he reached out to shake my hand, transferring the coin into my possession. I could feel my face turning bright red. But I don’t deserve this, I thought. Clapping and excited cheers followed me as I jogged back to resume my position in formation.

It’s a participation coin, I thought, ashamed. I glanced over at Gates. His brow was furrowed as his eyes stared straight ahead. Gates scored better than I had, and I got recognized because I have a vagina and he doesn’t? My brain impatiently tried to rationalize this. I could feel the silver start to grow hot from my sweaty palm. This isn’t fair.

I heard a whisper next to me. “Go Karma!” Hernandez said in a proud voice. I stared down at my boots, too uncomfortable to respond. Darkness had completely washed over us, and the company was dismissed for the evening. I put my head down, trying to quickly make my way to my tent.

“Beau!” Gates’ voice beckoned me over.

“Hey.” I awkwardly met his gaze.

“I just wanted to congratulate you.” His pearly grin seemed to light his face through the dusky night.

My voice wavered, “Really? I thought you might be a little pissed that they recognized me and not you.”

“Oh no, of course not.” He quickly brushed off. “It’s good when they give women prizes for competing. It makes them feel good, ya know?”

I nodded my head slowly. “But we’re all soldiers, right?” I took a quick breath and continued, “It shouldn’t matter whether I’m a female or not. We all competed in the same competition. I kind of feel like this is a pity award.”

Gates smacked a mosquito from his neck. “Yeah, well…” he said unsympathetically, “No one really expected you to do that well anyways. You should be glad that they gave you something. It encourages all the other women to give these competitions a shot. Gives them something shiny to look forward to.” Gates chuckled at his own joke.

I squinted my eyes at him. He just will never get it, I thought to myself.

“I’m going to head to bed,” I said. “I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I placed my coin on the edge of my cot. Staring at it, I felt alienated from the other competing soldiers. I grabbed the coin and buried it deep in the left pocket of my ruck. Yeah, I thought to myself, Karma is a bitch.