11 May 1970
Ocean City, New Jersey
Bruce sits at the kitchen table of his parents’ condo in New Jersey. His mother brings out a roasted turkey and sets it in the middle of the table. His father pours him a beer in a pilsner glass. Bruce is mesmerized by the table, and he tells his mother she’s outdone herself.
“It’s not every day you get to cook for a veteran,” his mother replies.
Bruce watches his mother take his plate and start piling food onto it with hefty portions. He takes the plate back and takes a roll from the basket. Then he looks across the table. “Mom, can you pass the fucking butter?”
His mother drops the serving spoon and it flips over itself and lands in her lap. She looks at him as if he has set the tablecloth on fire.
“Oh, shit.” Bruce covers his mouth and shakes his head. He is wide-eyed. He can’t believe it. All he learned in Vietnam was how to curse.
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