The army recruiters were stationed at a folding table outside the cafeteria. They’d Scotch-taped posters of diving fighter jets to the wall, peeking out between olive and gold balloons. A matching banner festooned the table. A blond girl and a guy with a crew cut hung out behind racks of brochures and clipboards.
Be Strong. Army Strong.
Robert lingered around the booth, avoiding the cafeteria and watching other kids pick up fliers. Some took them as a joke. One kid snickered out of the recruiters’ earshot. “I enlisted Connor. He’ll look great with a shaved head.”
Robert finally walked over and scrawled his name and phone number on the sign-up sheet. He was only the fourth student to do so, not counting Connor’s involuntary drafting.
“Have you guys gotten to go places?” Robert asked them. “Do you train kinda far away?”
The girl straightened. “I served in Afghanistan for a year. I’ll go back in four months.”
“I was in Germany,” the guy quickly added. “Before that I spent time in the Philippines. And now we go all over the country for recruitment. So being in the army definitely takes you places.”
“What makes you want to join the army?” the blonde asked.
“I want to join the air force. Be a pilot.”
“Do you have good eyesight?”
“Perfect.” Robert was guessing. “Bionic.”
The recruiters laughed. Crew Cut said, “Well, that’s one requirement down. You’ll get a call in the next couple of weeks.”
Robert saluted, and pocketed a pamphlet and a free sticker. That night, he practiced simulated flights over Afghanistan.