The Last Resort

As a year winds down, the Army, like many businesses, sweetens the pot for those it is trying to lure. This year, after two months of lagging recruitment numbers, the Army introduced a special offer: Those agreeable to being shipped out to basic training within 30 days of their enlistment would receive a special bonus of $20,000, atop any other Army bonus for which they might have qualified. Beaver quickly accepted the offer.

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"This is for Kalani," he says, while driving. He envisions better schools for his son and unique cultural experiences for the entire family. As a private first class, he will earn only about $18,400 a year, a sum less than some fast-food workers make. But other Army benefits -- from educational aid to housing allowances -- more than offset the downside of a meager salary, he believes. Immediate financial relief will quickly come to the Beavers in the form of a $2,100 monthly stipend that the family -- his wife, Teresa Beaver, and Kalani -- will receive for housing in Hawaii while Beaver goes through basic training at Fort Jackson. It is proof, as he sees it, that better times are ahead, especially for Kalani. "I don't want him to have to worry about money," Beaver says. "I want him to see everything the mainland or Europe has to offer. I want him to see the Grand Canyon, the White House, a major league baseball game . . . I want to have a little money to take him on a vacation. I want him to dream about doing something big. It's hard to dream here; people are trapped. The Army is the only way for me to do it."

Today, he has a few of his son's needs to address. A recent eye examination revealed that Kalani, a promising baseball player, has problems clearly seeing objects at a distance. They have an appointment at an optometrist's office to pick up his new glasses, which they hope will make it easier to distinguish fastballs from curveballs. "You're a good hitter now," Beaver says to Kalani as they walk into the office. "Imagine how much better you'll be when you can see the ball a little better."

The optometrist strolls by and says hi. A woman serving as an office assistant presents Kalani with his glasses.

"Try them on," Beaver urges his son. "They're good for picking up girls." He feigns a punch at his son's midsection.

Kalani chuckles. "Dad."

Kalani slips on the glasses, and the assistant smiles at him.

"Oh, you're gonna see the baseball better than ever with those things," his father says.

"Oh, no, I don't think those glasses are for sports," the office assistant interjects. A surprised Beaver pulls his head back. "We need something for sports," he tells her. "We thought we were getting something for sports. Could you ask the doctor if these are for sports?"

"Well, he just left -- he's at lunch right now," the assistant says.

"He left? I just saw him a second ago."

"You could come back in about an hour," the assistant says. "Or early next week."