Hey Guys. This entry picks up right after "No Place Like Home" When Tag and I finally let go of one another, we sat up, clearing our throats, rubbing our eyes, and in general, pretending as if it hadn’t happened. But it had. He had mentioned that when things were settled, he wanted us to take a little trip to California, see the sights around Los Angeles. He’d never been, even though it was so close. I knew L.A., and in my humble opinion, it was an absolute, total sewer. The whole state was like a hospice for the terminally trendy. But, if he wanted to go, we’d go. Hell, if he’d said he wanted us to swim in the frickin La Brea Tar Pits, I’d have dived in head first, as long as I was with him. I suddenly got this image in my head, of Tag and me, as tourists, visiting the Magic Kingdom, giddily spinning in a giant tea cup, wearing mouse ears, the whole bit. It was so absurd. I tried to keep from laughing; biting my lip, but it was no use. He looked at me, as I started to snort, and snicker, asking, what was so funny, and I had told him. He had the same reaction. The more he laughed the more I did. I was laughing so hard, my belly started to hurt, as I helplessly rolled around, trying to keep from peeing myself. It was fantastic. At last, we got control of ourselves, our donkey brays diminishing to the giggles. He had risen to leave, putting his hand on my head, and mussing up my hair. He admonished me to work on the list, and to get some rest, or else. I had promised I would. He paused at my door, and turned to look at me. “I almost forgot. I left a little Graduation present there.” He nodded at my nightstand, where a package, neatly wrapped in brown paper sat. No Tag, I don’t…” I tried to protest. “I know we’ve never done birthdays, or Christmas, but I figure we’ve got to start someplace. You can open it later. It’s not much, but I wanted you to have it.” He said smiling. “Thank you.” I said weakly, the tears threatening again. “You know, I… I…” he started. I knew what he was trying for. It was about the only four letter word neither of us could say out loud, but I heard it anyway. “Yeah, me to.” I grinned at him. He closed the door, and I listened to his footsteps all the way to the elevator. It seemed we both had a few minor issues with expressing our feelings. But we’d work it out together… together, another new word in my vocabulary. I picked up the package from the nightstand, and set it on my lap. It was square, about six inches on each side, and four inches deep. I delicately began peeling the tape, not wanting to tear the paper. I would save it. I folded the free edge back, exposing the polished surface, of a box, made of dark hardwood. It looked expensive Oh God, I thought, he got me a jewelry box. But I had no jewelry, or any use for it. It was just stupid ornamentation. Besides if I did have any, I’d be afraid of loosing it. Did he expect me to turn all girly overnight? There was a note folded beneath the wrapping. I opened it. Written in black ink, in Tag's precise hand, it read, Kiddo You deserve this. You’ve earned it. Tag I deserved a jewelry box? I didn’t get the symbolism, but okay. I removed the simple, elegant box from the paper. I supposed I would have to get used to this sort of thing. I flipped up the bonze hasp on the front of the box, and opened the lid. I heard myself gasp. The interior of the box was lined with royal blue velvet. There, in the center, lay a medal, its gleaming five pointed star surrounded by a green laurel wreath. In its center, was the bas-relief profile of Minerva, the Roman warrior goddess, encircled with the words, “UNITED STATES OF AMERICA”. It was suspended from a bar that read “VALOR,” an eagle perched on its top. Above the eagle was the pad of the light blue silk ribbon, to which it was attached. It was dotted with thirteen white stars. I lifted it as if it were made of ashes, my hands beginning to tremble, and turned it over to read the inscription on the back of the bar. “THE CONGRESS TO Captain Nathaniel R.Taggard.” It was the Medal of Honor. I knew that he was an officer, great soldier, and a good man, but I had no idea he had been decorated with the highest honor his country could give. And he thought me worthy enough to receive it. I had never even known his name. Until now he had always been just Tag. I had been raised by a patriot, a hero. He had made me who I was. My chest was going to burst. If I had died right then, it would have been the greatest day of my life. There was someone else I wanted to share this moment with; a long suffering ally. I dropped down onto my belly on the floor, and reached under my bunk, back into the corner, behind my foot locker. My fingers found what I was searching for, as I touched fur. I pulled it out, and sat up. I held Gunny up in front of me, smiling at him. He looked back, with his one good eye, and the black button I had sewn on as a replacement. Gunny had survived a lot of nighttime battles, and it showed. He was almost flat from me rolling and laying on him. His once white fur was now a sort of grayish, yellow. His pink nose was threadbare, and faded, and his ears hung limply from his head. I had long since squeezed away their ability to stand. His tail was eroded to a stump, and there were crude stitches here and there, where I had stuffed his guts back in. But he was still gunny. Gunny was a stuffed rabbit, and the only toy I had ever owned. Tag had smuggled him on base like contraband when I was first born. His name came from the fact that, when I was first learning to talk, apparently I would confuse the B, and G sounds. I called the bunny Gunny, and it stuck. The ridiculously pathetic irony of Gunny was not lost on me. I mean, a mutant tween assassin, with a stuffed animal? Oh, Please! My emotional dependence on an inanimate object, was proof positive of just how totally frickin whacked I was. I ragged on myself constantly for keeping him; hidden under my bed, like a dirty magazine. I had actually thrown him away once. I had dropped him in the garbage can, closed the lid, and walked away. I made it all of three feet before I tuned, ran back pulled him out, and apologized. Right now, I didn’t care. I hugged him to me, breathing in his mustiness. He smelled like me, and Tag, and little fleeting moments of happiness. I got back on the bed, pulling the sheet up over us, and sat there petting him. He had gotten me through some dark nights. He was going with us, I owed him. I looked at my new treasure, gleaming in my hand, then down at poor battered Gunny. I opened the clasp on the medal, and gently pinned it to his patched, fraying chest. Gunny was a hero too. Another stupid tear escaped, and I swiped at it, as I stared smiling, at the two greatest gifts I had ever received; both of them from Tag. I closed the medal's case and set it carefully on my nightstand. Nathaniel; what a strong, beautiful name. I lay down on my bed, pulling the covers up around me, and Gunny; my eyes growing heavy, suddenly drained again. I was warm, and safe, as I drifted away. Maybe if I dreamed, it wouldn’t be about the past again, but rather the future I never thought I’d have.