"Fire 2," graphic by the author, Deeann D. Mathews
The heat from a late spring day combined with the heat of a hot grill – Sgt. Trent stood in the midst of all of of that and marveled at the intensity and the magic of it all, as raw protein turned to a delectable food in five different ways in front of him.
Chicken, burgers, sausage, ribs, and grilling cheese – halloumi was the cheese and Mrs. Trent-again-to-be had brought it with her on her visit that day – and indeed, it made a nice alternative to tofu for Vanna.
But, back to barbecue … Sgt. Trent was a master of Tennessee-style barbecue … he was so good he had been playfully accused of witchcraft at a soldiers' contest during his last deployment, because the quality of meat wasn't the same that he could get back home and he still managed to make it taste like home.
He just didn't mention that his mother Gladys always sent barbecue sauce in his care package, along with extra spices and rubs … her sons kept up the art that their father had taught them, and Sgt. Trent did not let his skills lapse, even in the 120-degree heat of an Iraqi summer.
It was about 90 at that moment in Lofton County, VA, and son Melvin filled in for a fellow sergeant and poured water all over his father's head.
“Thanks, son.”
“I'll be back in 15 minutes for another dump.”
“Thanks, son.”
There was madness to the method, but magic in the real world was messy.
Mrs. Trent brought a huge mulberry cobbler out and slid it onto the other half of the grill to cook, and Sgt. Trent smiled and thanked God again that his wife, once and soon-to-be-again, understood the grilling life because her father was also a grillmaster.
“Mesquite and mulberries,” she said. “Makes such a beautiful harmony.”
“Yep,” Sgt. Trent said. “Everything will be done at about the same time, too.”