Alexa and the Combat Boots
Alexa found her brother Adam’s combat boots in the back of his closet underneath an old sweatshirt and a Red Hot Chili Peppers poster.
She had been looking for his porn - she knew must have a stash somewhere and only thing more pleasurable that the thought of being able to tease him about it was the prospect of looking at it herself. Adam had been away at college in West Virginia for three months now and Alexa had been spending a lot of time in his room. At first it had just been to take advantage of the collection of movies and video games he had left behind, but as she had grown more comfortable with the idea of Adam not being able to appear at any given moment to chase her out of his space, she had started investigating the past contents of her brother’s life.
She assumed he had taken most of what was really important with him, and indeed, many of the drawers she opened yielded nothing more than paper and leaky pens. She couldn’t rid herself of the thought, however, that there was something in there that she needed to know about, or that she would unlock some great secret if she could only find the right key.
The porn was a sidetrack to her mission, but after being hugely disappointed by a journal she found with nothing written in it, she felt she needed something more entertaining.
But then she found the combat boots. They were old. She had some vague memory of her father giving them to Adam one Christmas... some story about them having belonged to a fellow soldier who had been seriously injured in some freak accident during a training mission and was now a vegetable in some shitty veteran’s home.
Adam had gotten very quiet and a little purple in the face and said “thank you sir” and then spent the rest of the day absolutely intent on finding all the changes in the “spot the difference” challenge in the Washington Post Magazine.
Alexa didn’t think she had ever seen Adam wear those boots.
But there they were, buried under some adolescent relics and all she could think were that they were the greatest pair of shoes she had ever seen. They were small, too. Small enough the fit her feet well enough that they were comfortable to walk in. Boots were way better than porn.
She put them on. They felt warm on her feet. She stomped around the room a little bit in them. They were totally fucking awesome.
Just as she was about to start a fake fight with herself in the mirror, the phone rang. Knowing she was the only one home she walked across the hallway into her parents bedroom to grab the receiver.
“George residence” she answered, as is her father were somewhere in the room, observing her ettiquette.
“General Knowles?” aske the voice on the other end. “No, sorry I think you have the wrong number.”
“Ah yes, General Knowles” said the voice.
“No, wrong number.”
“But this is General Knowles who I’m speaking with?”
“No... sorry, who is this?”
“This is General Knowles. Speaking. And I need to speak to General Knowles.”
Alexa hung up the phone.
She proceeded back to Adam’s room to continue her search mission when she promptly tripped over the shoe laces she had neglected to tie.
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