His Hero in Uniform (text)

(Let me know if you guys want to see more of this stuff, or just want me to focus on Hercules? )

Character 1: Capt. Walter P. Bernhardt (27y)
Character 2: Jeroen Dejongen (18y)
----
Title:
His Hero in Uniform

Scene 01:

The relentless thunderstorm had finally begun to subside, leaving behind a world washed clean and glistening. Jeroen, clutching the precious box of colored pencils and sketchbook to his chest, stood beneath the overhang of the old stone church. The schoolmaster's special assignment weighed on him, a delightful responsibility to capture the spirit of liberation for the upcoming celebration. The school doors were now closed, and remain close until the celebration.

Just as a particularly loud clap of thunder echoed in the distance, a jeep rumbled to a halt at the curb. A tall soldier with sandy hair and kind eyes behind his sunglasses leaned over. "Hey there, kid," he said, his American English a foreign melody. He held out a chocolate bar, its sweet scent cutting through the damp air. "Where do you live?"
The muscular soldier in the jeep wanted to offer a ride to the drenched young lad.

Jeroen, understanding only a smattering of English, just stared, his blonde hair plastered to his forehead by the lingering drizzle. The soldier, noticing the sketchbook, pointed at the colorful box. "Crayons?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Realizing words weren't bridging the gap, the soldier pulled out a folded map. He pointed to it, then tapped his chest and made a questioning sound. "Home? House?"

"Huis!" Jeroen exclaimed, the Dutch word familiar on his tongue. He eagerly pointed to a spot on the map, a little ways outside of town. A thirty-minute walk, he figured.

The soldier nodded in understanding. "Hop in," he gestured to the jeep. The canvas tarp overhead kept them dry as they drove through the receding puddles. a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the jeep's engine.

Walt dropped him off near his small house, offering a friendly wave as he drove away. It wasn't until Jeroen was inside, the warmth of his home enveloping him, that he realized his precious colored pencils and sketchbook were still on the jeep seat. A wave of disappointment washed over him.

That night, sleep eluded Jeroen. The image of the handsome soldier's smile kept flickering in his mind, mingling with the thought of his lost art supplies and the lingering sweetness of the chocolate bar in his pocket.

The next morning dawned bright and clear. As Jeroen stepped outside, a familiar sight greeted him. Walt's jeep was parked near his house, the tarp now neatly stowed away. Walt, sunglasses perched on his nose, leaned against the vehicle, a thin plume of smoke rising from the cigarette in his hand.

A surge of happiness bubbled up in Jeroen. He hurried towards Walt, who grinned warmly. "Hey there," Walt said, reaching into the jeep. He held out Jeroen's sketchbook and color pencils. "Forgot these." He then offered another chocolate bar, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Jeroen's heart fluttered. He took the offered items, a shy smile gracing his lips. A silent understanding seemed to pass between the boy and the soldier, a connection that transcended the barrier of language.   

End of Scene 01