Let's Ride

I was told not to start a story like this, but screw 'em I'll start my story any f*****g way I like. My name is Nikki Cormak, I live outside Logan Utah, I'm twenty-five years old and an ex-Marine. It's a warm Sunday in October of 2012, and I don't have to work today, so I guess this is as good a day to start this as any. I've only been back since the end of June, I served with the first Marine Division, fifth Marine regiment in the Headquarters battalion, as a sergeant, I was in what they called a "Female Engagement Team" or FET and I'm just damn glad to be home, alive, and in one piece. The Corps was after me to re-up but that FET business made me nervous, as far as I was concerned, it was nothing more than a set-up for an ambush, there were five of us that went out and got cozy with the female Afghan's because their men folk didn't want our guys talking to their women. This was a bunch of crap as far as I was concerned, the guys used to tell me, that they just stood out in the fields where the women were slaving away, pretended to be looking at something in the distance, but actually talking to one of the women. Nobody could tell they were actually talking, so no ridiculous Muslim "laws" were broken, the guys got the information they needed, everyone was happy. Then some i***t got the bright idea to bring female Marines into the picture and try and be more "user friendly" but it was just a recipe for a disaster waiting to happen as far as we were concerned. Anyway, I'm here, they're there, all's right with the world. I help my dad (ex-Marine) run an auto parts store here in Logan, sometimes I make parts runs to some of the truck stops located on I-15 or I-84. My mom and my younger brother were killed in a car wreck eight years ago, it was winter, they were hit by a pick-up head on in a blizzard on route 89, nobody was drunk, it was just one of those things, right place wrong time, anyway dad and I miss them terribly. After the accident, dad almost "climbed" into the bottle, but I got him "help" and was able to prevent that accident from claiming another "victim." Dad had high hopes that my brother Torry would join the Marine Corps, well that never happened, so I went instead, actually the experience turned out to be good for me, I was able to focus on living instead of the past, a sense of belonging, but most of all restoring something in my dad. He came to see me graduate from boot camp on Parris Island he didn't show it but I could tell he was damn proud of me; I gave him something to live for. And so that's how it's been. Every year, (except when I was overseas) dad and I go to the cemetery on mom's birthday (May 12th) and Torry's (October 22) and put flowers on their graves, we stand and remember, tell them what's been going on, sometimes we'll cry but the important thing is that we remember. One thing about all this, and I don't know whether it's good or bad, but dad and I have grown very close, it's affected my love life, I've gone through three boyfriends dad simply just didn't like, however I'm currently going with a guy named Greg Thomas. Dad approves, actually both of them get along pretty good, they've gone fishing a couple times together at Bear Lake, and are talking about a hunting trip over to Wyoming this fall. Greg's only fault as far as dad is concerned is that Greg didn't serve in the Marines, but the Army. This is always a source of contention between them, Greg served in a recon unit in Afghanistan as I did, and got out two months before I did, we discovered that we may have actually seen each other once, in the 'Stan, we didn't know it then, but he was with a unit that stayed briefly next to where my unit was operating last year. Anyway, once he and dad get "going" I have to jump in as "peacemaker" but it's mostly in friendly jest (I hope). Two things fuel the thing that keeps us going, our love for each other, and our love of Harley's, I have a 2010 1200 custom Sportster, Greg has a 2008 105 year anniversary Road King, both of us belong to the Northern Utah chapter of the Harley Owners Group and the many friends within. Greg works for the State Highway Department, and sometimes we get a little "business" thrown our way, but no one's complaining.