Caleb yawned. He was getting bored with simulations and games. Putting down his plastic AK47, Caleb walked to the intercom and asked in Russian for his butler to get him a milkshake. Like everything else in his life, his normal snack of rich cheeses and exotic juices was becoming bland and mundane.
You see, Caleb lived in a penthouse on an island off the coast of soviet Russia. He had cooks, servants, and a butler at his command, but ultimately he had to answer to his trainer, Anton. Anton was a harsh man, who was very demanding of Caleb in training, but Caleb liked him nonetheless. He was the only other person on the island besides the servants, and was the head overseer of a very special project. A project to turn Caleb into a super soldier.
In 1987, Caleb lived in Alaska, and neither him nor his parents knew how special he truly was. That was the year the missiles launched, and all hell broke loose. When the Soviet Union and America entered a nuclear war, the whole world held their breath, thinking that the end had come. As a surprise to all, however, it didn't. having hyped the amount of nuclear warheads that they had, both countries built up their defense systems so well that only three warheads struck America, and only four hit the ground of the Soviet Union. The ones that did fall however, hit hard, and with over a million deaths in both countries, the two entered a brutal war on the battleground of Alaska and other bordering lands.
This is where Caleb's story starts. When he was eight, the Russians invaded his town, killing civilians and destroying property. When a team of soldiers entered his house, Caleb killed one with his bare hands, and shot two others before he was subdued. The soviet sergeant, seeing that this boy would make the perfect soldier, contacted chairman Gorbechev and received permission to train Caleb in secret, after assimilating him into communism.
"Caleb! Look sharp!"
"sorry sir," responded Caleb in Russian, standing perfectly strait.
"first a lesson, then we train," declared Anton.
Caleb nodded in accordance.
"who is our savior and protector, our valiant leader and the benefactor of all men?"
"chairman Gorbechev."
"right. Who would threaten our perfect way of life, with their poverty and evil?"
"the capitalists sir, those American scum."
If there was anything Caleb hated most in the world, it was Americans. In fact, he was ashamed of his ethnicity, and often wished he was a Russian like everyone else. Having few memories of the people he grew up with, all he really knew of Americans was what Anton told him, and from what he had heard, they were evil people. While the rich bathed in money, the poor starved and died, and the government did nothing about it. Not only were they oppressing their own people, but they wanted to spread their evil ways across the globe, and take the soviet union, where no one was poor, and everyone was happy. Caleb's main goal was to go to war, and finally get a chance to drive back those horrid capitalists in the glorious name of the motherland. Naturally, Caleb was grateful to have been taken in by such a wonderful country, for as he had been told, his own parents had been about to sell him into slavery.
"you have done exceptionally well my son, and soon, I'm sure they will consider sending you to the front."
"but I'm fourteen, I want to go now. I hit all sixty targets, and broke seven boards with the butt of my gun!"
"trust in the wisdom of the elders young Caleb, they have their reasons for holding you back."
"ok," Caleb said dejectedly.
"on a happier note, because you have done so well, I have granted you a pass to the other island this weekend."
"Yes!" cheered Caleb. His favorite place in the world was that island, and he only got a pass to it if he performed well in training, which he almost always did. Caleb laid back on the sofa and sighed contently. There were many people on that island, a few of whom he was friends with, but only one he thought about constantly.
When he had first gone to the bigger island, he had played with a plethora of kids, and made some friends, but mostly enemies, because of his looks and his accent. Over the years though, Caleb grew to like a girl named Eva, and soon learned that she reciprocated his feelings. Now they anxiously awaited every weekend, looking forward to the time they would spend together.
When the ferry arrived at the island, a bunch of teenagers were already playing capture the flag, and reluctantly agreed to let Caleb play. They resented him partly for being so athletic, but mostly just because he was American. Often, the boys used to make fun of him for it, but Caleb gave a few black eyes, so they stopped. Besides Eva, there were only several who actually liked him, and only one or two who would call him a friend.
"I hate my voice," Caleb complained later.
"but Caleb, I like your accent."
"well I don't. why can't I just be Russian like you."
"Caleb you should be proud of who you are, just because your parents were Americans doesn't make you one. We know you're Russian at heart," consoled Eva, laying her hand on his back gently.
"yeah ok," Caleb said glumly.
"I think I'll feel better once I get the chance to prove myself; once they let me fight in the war," he said, proceeding a period of thoughtful silence.
"you don't need to prove anything to anyone, especially not me. I like you Caleb, so why don't you?" asked Eva
"what? like myself?"
"yeah."
"because every time I look in the mirror I see the enemy. I don't want to ever be like them, but I'll always have to look like them." the anger and resentment of both himself and his enemy was evident in his voice. Eva didn't know how to console him, but wished that she did.
They both sat there for a moment, staring off into the setting sun, with their feet dangling over the edge of an eroded beach. Finally Eva leaned over and kissed him on cheek.
"you'll never be one of them."
---if you liked this, be sure to check out the next chapter, linked here: topic73742.html ---
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