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diff --git a/15-RemembranceDay.rst b/15-RemembranceDay.rst new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60823f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/15-RemembranceDay.rst @@ -0,0 +1,1239 @@ +Episode 3.15, Remembrance Day +----------------------------- + +Saturday at last! Joan rummaged sleepily in the refrigerator: no +milk. That's what she got for sleeping so late. She smiled, +remembering last night; Grace and Adam had come over with some videos +and snacks. Joan and Luke had commandeered the living room for the +evening, built a fire to drive away the damp chill of the November +evening, made popcorn, and the four of them settled in for an evening +of "serious, thought-provoking and educational British television." +Joan giggled as she remembered Luke saying that just before "Monty +Python and the Holy Grail." Apparently Luke had seen it before, but +Joan hadn't, and hadn't known what to expect. Joan giggled again. +Later on, during the Flying Circus video, Grace had started a popcorn +fight. It had taken them nearly an hour to clean the room up when +they finally called it quits for the evening, about three in the +morning. + +As Joan continued to look for something for breakfast, Will's +minestrone soup simmered in the big soup pot on the back burner, +filling the kitchen with its aroma and making Joan even hungrier. +"Dad must have gotten up early and started it," Joan thought. "I +guess I could raid the soup for breakfast." Her stomach growled. "No, +better not. Too much junk food last night. + +The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Joan said, to no one in particular +-- was she the only one at home? She hadn't seen anyone yet, but +she'd bet that Luke was still asleep. Opening the door, she found +Friedman standing there. "Oh. Hi, Friedman. Come on in; I think Luke +might still be asleep. Go dump a glass of water on him or something." + +Friedman stood there in the doorway, looking a bit embarrassed. "Uh, +I didn't come to see Luke." +"Well, who else? Like you came to see Mom? Dad? Kevin maybe?" +"No. You." +Joan stopped for a moment. "Friedman, if you're going to make a pass +or ask me out, the answer is No. N-O." +"No. No, that's not it. Although..." +"Friedman!!!!" +"Well, okay. It's about... Uh.. You know the 12th is next Saturday." +"Oh. Yeah." +"I was thinking... Maybe some of us could go out to the cemetery, +take her some flowers or something. And you... You were Judith's best +friend. I'm going to ask Adam and Grace and maybe Luke, but only if +you're interested in going." +"Yeah." Thinking about it, Joan nodded. "That would be great. Come on +in for a minute, Friedman. We shouldn't be standing here with the +door open. Mom is always on us about the heating bills." +"Thanks." They stood there by the door. "You still miss her, don't +you," Friedman said. +"I'll never get over it, losing her like that," Joan said, almost in +a whisper. +"I won't, either," Friedman said. +Joan looked at him intently. "It sure seemed like you got over Judith +last fall. One week it was Hamlet and Ophelia, and the next week you +are on the make again, like Judith never happened." +Friedman looked down. "Yeah. I'm ashamed of that. I think I was +running from it, from how I felt. I couldn't deal with it." Looking +at Joan, he continued: "Judith didn't even like me. I know that. But +I don't think I'll ever love anyone like I loved her. You, of all +people; you know she was special. All that Shakespeare -- I really +meant it. I still do: + +"Doubt thou the stars are fire; +Doubt that the sun doth move; +Doubt truth to be a liar; +But never doubt I love, +O dear Ophelia..." + +Joan smiled at him; he had tears in his eyes, and was even more +embarrassed. +"OK, I'm outta here," he said. +"You sure you don't want to dump that glass of water on Luke?" +"No. I've gotta go." Opening the door and stepping through, he turned +back and added, "Joan.... Thanks." +"See you around." +With that, he closed the door and was gone. Joan stood there a +moment, thinking of Judith. With a sigh, she walked back to the +kitchen. + +Before she had opened the cupboard to see if there were any granola +bars left, the doorbell rang again. Joan smiled: Friedman must have +changed his mind about dousing Luke. She opened the door, starting to +say "Come on in, Freid..." + +Standing there was a man in his late 50's. "Um... Excuse me, sir. I +thought you were someone else." The man stood there for a moment. He +was a bit under six feet tall, solidly built, with grizzled and +dirty-looking hair, wearing filthy jeans and an old Packers +sweatshirt, and a black knit ski hat. To Joan, there seemed something +slightly "off" in his manner, perhaps in his eyes. He kept looking +from side to side, as if he were afraid of something. + +"May I help you, sir?" Joan prompted. +The man stood there, as if Joan's question had surprised him. +Collecting his wits, he said "Yes. I'd like to see Will Girardi, +please." +"He's not here." With a sudden fear, Joan realized that except for +the sleeping Luke, she was alone in the house. What did this man +want? +"Oh." He stopped for a minute, as if he hadn't expected that answer. +"Umm... Just tell him that Billy Caruso came by. Tell him... Tell Mr. +Girardi that I'll be back." With that, he turned and walked away. +Joan shut the door as quickly as she could without slamming it. She +bolted the lock, and leaned back against the door to catch her +breath. +-------------------------------------- +Kevin was in the garage, considering what to do next on the boat, +when his cell phone rang. +"Hello," he said. +"Is this Kevin Girardi?" a woman's voice asked. +"Yes ma'am, this is Kevin." +"You probably don't remember me, but I am Louise Taliaferro. My son +Ricky played baseball with you in high school. I called your house +the other day and your mother gave me your cell phone number." +"Yeah. I remember you, Mrs. Taliaferro. You used to sit in the third +base stands with Mom. Yeah... Clear back to T-ball. Ricky and I used +to end up on the same teams most years. How's he doing these days?" +There was a moment's silence on the other end. "Kevin, that's why I'm +calling." +"What's wrong? Has something happened?" +"I don't know if you heard, but Ricky enlisted a few months after you +all moved away. He's... He's been hurt. He's lost both of his legs, +over in Iraq." +"Oh God." +"They've taken very good care of him. He's back in the States. He's +in Walter Reed Hospital." +"I'm really sorry. That's terrible." +"Kevin... This may be hard... Ricky is all right, as far as his +physical health goes. They've done some operations and have all the +shrapnel out of his intestines. He has a plate in his skull, and that +is okay. And some other things, little things I guess in comparison. +But he... He has given up. It's like he doesn't want to get well. He +just lays there in the bed and won't talk to us." +Kevin took a long moment and a deep breath. "Yeah, it's hard. Ricky +was like me. He was always an active guy. And now... At least I still +have legs, not that they do me much good..." +"Could you go visit him? Talk with him?" +"Well, yeah. Walter Reed is in DC. That's an easy drive from here. +But... Mrs. Taliaferro, after my accident I was like that too. Mom +and Dad tried everything and I didn't care. I'll go see Ricky, but it +probably won't help." +"Maybe seeing you, talking with you might help." +"Because I'm a gimp? Dad tried that; he hooked me up with one of his +old buddies that is in a chair and plays basketball. I walked out on +him. So to speak." +"Ricky always looked up to you." +"I think it needs to be the other way around. I'm nothing compared +with someone like him, someone that has put it on the line for his +country." +"Kevin, just go see him. Please." +"Of course I'll go. I'll do whatever I can. I wish I knew what would +help." +"So do we, Kevin. So do we." + +Joan took her first sip of the minestrone. "This is scrumptious," she +said, "Even better than usual." +"Yeah, I love it when you fix this," Luke said. +"Luke, don't talk with your mouth full," Helen said. Luke nodded, as +he ate more of the soup. +Will smiled, glad that his efforts were appreciated. "Mom used to +make it a lot this time of year. You can still get good fresh +vegetables for it in November, and it sure took the chill off rainy +days." +"Pass the bread, please," Kevin said. Joan handed the basket to him. +"This is good, too," he said. +Will nodded. "I thought I'd try this. It's from Mallory's Bakery. We +like their cinnamon rolls; I think we'll have to add their Italian +bread to the list." +"It's good just to have everyone here," Helen said, smiling. "We've +been so busy. We don't have the whole family to supper enough +anymore." They ate in silence for a bit. Joan was the first to get a +second bowl of the soup. + +Kevin asked, "Mom, did you talk with Mrs. Taliaferro?" +"Yes. She called Thursday, said she wanted to talk with you about +something. Something about Ricky." +"Yeah. She got a hold of me this morning. Ricky joined the Army, and +he got sent to Iraq, and his Hummer got blown up." +"No!" Helen said. The others all stopped eating. +"He's in Walter Reed hospital," Kevin continued. "Without legs. +That's why she called. It sounds like he's taking it about the way I +did -- badly." +"I always liked Ricky," Joan said. "He was cute. Is he okay?" +Kevin looked at her like that was a stupid question. Joan continued, +"You know, other than the legs. Is he going to live?" +"Mrs. T. says so. He's got some other stuff, but she says it's minor +in comparison." +"Pretty much anything is," Will said. +"But he doesn't want to live. Just like I was. She wants me to go see +him. I told her it won't help, but she's right; I need to go." +"I'll go with you," Will said. "How about Saturday?" +"No," Kevin said. "I need to do this myself." +"Kevin, I don't think you should drive by yourself all the way to +DC," Helen said, with a worried look. +"Your car is old." Will said. "What if you break down on the +Beltway?" +"Dad... don't do this," Kevin said. "You're treating me like I'm +helpless." +Will said, "We'd both feel better if someone went with you. And it's +not because you can't walk. I'd feel the same way if it was Helen +going and not you." +"It's not that far to drive. What's the big deal?" +"Okay. Okay.... you're right. You're a grown up and we need to treat +you like one," Will said, looking unhappy about it. "Do as you +please." +After a moment, Kevin said "Maybe I'll see if Andy can go. He knew +Ricky better than I did. Yeah, that would be good. I'll call him +after while." +Helen said, "Please tell Ricky that we wish him the best. Maybe Will +and I can go see him some other time." +Kevin nodded, with a smile now that the situation was resolved. + +"Any other bombshells today?" Luke asked. +"Luke, that is sick," Joan said. +Looking embarrassed, Luke said "I didn't mean it that way. I meant, +any other major occurrences we should know about?" + +"Will and I had a nice morning. The house was quiet when we got up, +unlike how it was about 2 o'clock this morning" +"Could you hear us?" Joan asked. "I'm really sorry. We were trying to +be quiet." +Helen laughed. "It's okay. We're glad you all were having a good +time." She continued, "Will started the soup and we went to the +grocery store, and had coffee at Mallory's, and a couple of their +cinnamon rolls." +"And you didn't bring us any?" Luke said. +Ignoring that, she continued, "It was really nice to have a morning, +just the two of us." + +Joan said, "I was up before sleepyhead," looking at Luke. "Friedman +came by. He's organizing some people to go out to Judith's grave next +Saturday." +Helen reached over, putting her hand on Joan's; she looked at her +mother quizzically. "I dreamed about Judith last night," Helen said. +"Probably it was just that I was thinking about her yesterday, and +how it's been a year almost since she died." +"What did you dream?" Joan asked. +"Oh nothing, not really. It was just you and her sitting here at the +table in your pajamas like she had maybe stayed the night over here, +talking and laughing and eating breakfast. It was really just a +moment, and then it was gone." +"I miss her," Joan said. No one else said anything. Joan toyed with +her soup, no longer hungry. The others returned to eating. +"Oh. I almost forgot," Joan said, the memory startling her out of her +thoughts of Judith. "Right after Friedman came by, there was this guy +that came to the door, looking for Dad." +Will looked up and nodded, as if to say "Yeah, tell me more." +"He was kind of creepy looking. Said his name was Billy Caruso." +Will set his spoon down, exchanging a glance with Helen. "Yeah. I +know the guy," he said. +"I told him you weren't here. He said to tell you he'd be back." +Seeing the look on her parents' face, she asked "Is something wrong?" + +After a moment's silence, Will said "Billy Caruso was in a liquor +store robbery back in Chicago, back about the time Kevin was born." +"Yes. I was still pregnant." Helen said. +"He killed Mike Soucek. My partner." +"Mary Soucek and I were in childbirth classes together. She lost her +baby. I think it was the stress. That hurt her worse than losing +Mike, I think. It would have been their first child and would have +given her something. She ended up with nothing." +Will said, "At the trial, after they gave the verdict, the bailiffs +had to haul him out of the courtroom. He was screaming at me. +"Girardi, I'll get you for this. I'll kill you, and your wife too. +You just wait. I'll be back." +"I'll be back," Joan said, looking horrified, "That's what he said: +"Tell Mr. Girardi that 'I'll be back.'" +-------------------------------------- +Adam was coming from the art room. Grace caught up with him in the +hall: "You hear about Friedman?" +"Something about Judith, and Saturday at the cemetary, right?" +"Yeah. I thought Judith was ancient history for him." +Adam nodded. "I'm glad he remembers her. I do too." +"Yeah. Me too. But I hope he doesn't start spouting Shakespeare +again." +-------------------------------------- +The telephone rang. Again. On the fourth ring: "This is the Girardi +residence. We're not available, so leave a message after the beep." +"Ummm.... Billy Caruso. Mr. Girardi, I need to see you. Some place +away from the station. I know where you live now, so I'll come find +you soon. Oh, and your daughter is a nice girl." +-------------------------------------- +"Anything for me today?" Luke asked, as he dropped his backpack by +the door and saw Helen leafing through the mail. +"Let's see... Penn State, and Princeton, and Dartmouth, and here's +Maryland." +"Again. This will be three catalogs they've sent me." +"I don't suppose there's anything for me," Joan said. +Helen ignored her, going on with Luke's mail. +"A letter from Duke..." +"Good basketball team, but not my thing." +"Umm... here's a letter from MIT..." +Luke grabbed it from her hand, tearing it open with trembling hands. + +Luke read: "We are pleased to invite you to register now for the fall +of 2006 under MIT's early decision program..." With a whoop, he began +dancing around the room, to Joan and Helen's amazement. "Yeah!!!! +MIT, here I come!!!!!" + +"Already?" Joan said. "Aren't you, like, not old enough yet?" +"Sure I am," Luke said, stopping his dance. "I'm graduating this +spring with you guys, aren't I?" +"Well yeah. But you're... you're just a kid. You're not even +seventeen." +"A week and a half short. Might as well be." +Helen said, "Joan is right. Maybe you ought to wait for a year, maybe +go to Dawson and live at home." + +Luke stopped short. "I don't believe this. MIT wants me, and you +won't let me go." +"It's not that," Helen said, searching for the right words, as Joan +looked from her to Luke and back. "You're just... young. Too young to +be that far away from home." +"I'm way more mature than Joan," Luke said. +"That may well be," Helen said. Joan's mouth dropping open, "Mom!!!!" +"But you're still not old enough," Helen continued, "A year at Dawson +would be a good transition..." +Luke interrupted her: "I'm plenty grown up enough to do this, whether +you like it or not. I have a full scholarship; I can move out and go +on my own." +Joan was trying to get their attention: "I'm almost eighteen. I'm a +grown-up." +"No you can't," Helen said to Luke, ignoring Joan. "They won't let +you in until you're eighteen. Not without our permission." +"What am I going to do at a 'podunk' college like Dawson? Twiddle my +thumbs all year? Play rock-paper-scissors with Joan?" +"We'll talk about this later," Helen said. "When your dad gets home." +Luke turned and stormed off in tears, stomping up the steps. + +Will lay on the bed, still in his clothes. He watched Helen brush her +hair, as she stood in front of the mirror in her nightgown. She was +so beautiful! That was the least of it; she was honest, and strong, +and she always understood what was going on, even with the kids, when +they were being teenagerish like Luke had been tonight. And she was +brave, with the special courage of a cop's wife. + +Helen lay down the brush, turned and saw Will looking at her. She +smiled, and came over to her side of the bed. She lay on her side, +looking at Will. "You're worried," she said. +"I don't like people shooting at me. But that's my job. What I can't +take is you and the kids being in danger." +Helen nodded. +"That creep. He comes to our house, talks to our daughter. Says 'I'll +be back.' Leaves phone messages. Here, on our home phone, not at the +station." +"We'll be OK," Helen said. +"He killed Mike." +She said nothing; Will continued, "He was my first partner. My +friend. We'd talk about the Bears, and the White Sox. And about you, +and Mary. We were both trying to figure out you girls, and not doing +very well." +Helen giggled. "Mary was so sweet, really just a kid. She and I were +trying to figure out you guys. We weren't making much progress, +either." +"He was maybe the only guy I ever knew that I could talk to about +anything. Whatever was on my mind, he'd listen. He'd make me laugh +about it, and it would be all right." +Helen took Will's hand. +"That day at the liquor store... we'd done all the training, but this +was our first time with the real thing, someone shooting at us. I +swung the squad car across the street to block it, facing the store, +in case he had a car there and made a run for it. Mike called for +backup and I got out and returned fire, taking cover behind the car +door. As soon as he got off the message, Mike did the same on the +passenger side. That Caruso slime had a Uzi; got it at a gun show and +had someone modify it so it would shoot full automatic. Every time +one of us tried to get off a shot, he'd let off a full burst. Just as +the backup got there, he hit Mike, and he went sprawling into the +street. He was gone. Just like that; some loser with a gun in a +liquor store, and Mike was dead. I'd never seen anyone die before, +and here was my best friend, splattered all over the street. Thirteen +bullets in him, the report said. I was crazy mad; I wanted to rush +the guy, and kill him barehanded. It was good that Otis was there; he +saw what I was going to do and ran over and grabbed me, sort of +tackled me into the car, when he could have gotten hit himself doing +it. 'Girardi, do your duty. Don't think about it now. Just do your +job.'" + +Helen spoke: "I rushed over to their house as soon as I heard. Mary +was just sitting there at the kitchen table, not even crying. She +wouldn't say anything, just kept, scrunching up one of the blue +napkins and pulling it and wadding it up again. Her eyes... she died +that day, just as much as Mike did. And then when she had the +miscarriage... I wish I could have done something for her. Anything." + +"You stayed by her through the funeral. You took her to the hospital +when the labor came. You stayed with her at night for weeks, until +Kevin was born." + +"It wasn't enough." +"It's never enough. There's no answer for something like that." Will +continued, "You just have to go on. She has, you know." + +"She never married again. She takes care of her mother and hardly +sets foot out of the house. She never really dealt with losing Mike, +and the baby." + +"Don't blame yourself, Helen. You did all that anyone could do. You +were a friend." +-------------------------------------- +Luke slammed his locker door as Joan came toward him. He had not come +down to supper last night. She had heard him and Dad shouting at each +other last night when Dad tried to talk to him in his room. This +morning he skipped breakfast; he tore through the kitchen, grabbing a +couple of power bars from the cabinet and almost running out the door +with his backpack. + +She rushed to catch up with him as he headed to class. "Luke, I'm +sorry," she said, touching his arm. He brushed her aside. "Go away. I +don't want to talk to anyone." She stayed beside him as he pounded +through the hall. "Talk to Grace. Talk to someone," she said, as he +ignored her and walked away. "Don't be like this," she shouted at him +as he disappeared around the corner. + +Grace came up beside Joan, watching Luke go. "Been a long night," +Grace said. "We were IM-ing all night about it." +"What are we going to do?" Joan asked. +"Nothing," Grace said. "Nothing we can do. He's come up against a +brick wall, and he's got to learn that there's some things you just +have to live with." +-------------------------------------- +The bookstore had been quiet all evening. Joan was checking over +stock lists at the register. She looked up, hearing a customer +approach the desk. She was an elderly Oriental woman, tiny and +dignified. She could not have been any more than five feet tall, but +she carried herself as if she were an empress. She wore a black +raincoat, and had gray streaks in her short black hair. Her eyes were +dark and solemn as she looked at Joan. + +"Ma'am, are you ready to check out?" +"Yes, Joan. I found what I wanted." +Joan grimaced. "Oh, it's you. Where have you been?" +"Everywhere," the woman replied, smiling slightly. +"Figures. You do get around." +She smiled more broadly, now a wide grin. "Yes. Part of my job." +"OK, what do you have today?" +She laid a book on the counter: "Poems of the Great War." [use the +URL to link to Amazon, and check the title...] +"Cheery reading," Joan said. "Something lighthearted for when you've +had a hard day?" +"This one is good. It is by Wilfrid Owen," she said, opening the book +and reading: + +Quote: +What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? +Only the monstrous anger of the guns. +Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle +Can patter out their hasty orisons. +No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells, +Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, -- +The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; +And bugles calling for them from sad shires. + +What candles may be held to speed them all? +Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes +Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. +The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; +Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, +And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. + +"Mr. Owen wrote truly." + +"So what is it with you and war? Do you like death?" +"Let me read you another one." + +Quote: +Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, +Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, +Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, +And towards our distant rest began to trudge. +Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots, +But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind; +Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots +Of gas-shells dropping softly behind. + +Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! -- An ecstasy of fumbling +Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time, +But someone still was yelling out and stumbling +And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime. -- +Dim through the misty panes and thick green light, +As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. + +In all my dreams before my helpless sight +He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. + +If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace +Behind the wagon that we flung him in, +And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, +His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin, +If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood +Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs +Bitter as the cud +Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -- +My friend, you would not tell with such high zest +To children ardent for some desperate glory, +The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est +Pro patria mori. + +The woman closed the book. "You really think I want these things to +happen?" +"You let it happen," Joan said. "You have let millions of people get +killed in wars. Or crippled, like poor Ricky. Not to mention people +like Judith. Or my Dad's old partner. He and Mom still hurt over that +one." +"Billy Caruso had free will. So did Mark Soucek. Their free choices +brought their paths together that day. Mark chose to do what was +right; your father did, too, even though it put both of them in +danger. Billy chose to do what was wrong." +"You're big on this free will stuff. What about Hitler? And all those +people that died in the war he started, and in the concentration +camps? Millions of them." +"Yes. I was there. I have been on every battlefield since the +beginning of your species. And in every prison camp and field +hospital. And burial ground." +"Couldn't you, maybe, zap some of these people, make them stop +killing?" +"Joan, you know better than that. I am all about free will. I can +send people like you to tell them what they should do, and I have. Oh +yes, I have sent many... But I am not going to 'make' them do +anything. I choose not to be that kind of God." +"What about death? Why do you let it happen?" +"It's complicated." +"Yeah. That's what you always say. Can't you elaborate? A little?" +"Remember when Kevin used to play soccer?" +"Yeah. He was good at it, like he was at everything. But it was +sooooo boring. All those guys running up and down the field, and +standing next to Mom on the sidelines, listening to her gossip with +the other soccer moms." +"What happens when a soccer player gets taken out of the game for a +substitute?" +"He goes to the sidelines, maybe sits on the bench." +"But he's still there with his team, even though he can't go back in +the game again." +"Yeah." +"He's watching the game, and cheering his teammates on. Right?" +"Yeah." +"He's still part of the team, just as much as anyone on the field." +"Yeah." +The woman laid a $50 on the counter, and picked up the book. +"Keep the change, Joan. Put it in the till for Sammy." +"So that's my answer?" +The woman opened the door and walked out, waving over her shoulder as +she came past the window on the sidewalk. +-------------------------------------- +"This is the Girardi residence. We're not available, so leave a +message after the beep." +"Ummm.... Billy Caruso again. Mr. Girardi, I'm still looking for you. +I'll come by next time I'm in town." + +Joan lay in bed Friday night, sleepless. She was worried about her +dad; that Billy Caruso guy really had him shook up. And she was +worried about Luke. And she missed Judith. "I'm lucky; I have +friends. I wouldn't trade Grace and Adam for anyone. But Judith... it +was like she was a part of me, like she could read my mind..." With +such thoughts Joan finally drifted off to sleep... + +Joan and Judith sat at the Girardi kitchen table in their pajamas +eating breakfast. The sun was up, shining brightly in the window. +"How's my crocus doing?" Judith asked, taking a bite of a donut. "The +one you brought home and put in your room." +"It's growing. That's more than I usually manage with plants. +"You do know what kind it is, don't you," Judith said. +"I have no idea," +"Joan of Arc. I picked it out 'cause it made me think of you." +"Uhhh... did you know about me and... uh... why I was interested in +Joan of Arc?" +"I didn't know you were interested in Joan of Arc. I just knew your +name is Joan. That was enough connection to buy that kind at the +store." +Judith finished the donut, and reached across for another one. "So +you and Rove are back together." +"Yeah. You see all this stuff ?" +"Be nice to the boy. He's OK, even if he did cheat on you. Typical +male: guys are all worthless scum." +"I thought he was better than that," Joan said, absentmindedly +stirring her cereal. +"Well, now you know. If it makes you feel any better, he hated +himself for it." +"Good." +"Yeah. He was like a rabbit in a steel trap. He didn't know how to +get out. You know how he is. He's helpless when it comes to dealing +with people. Even with you." +"So you watched all of this?" Joan said. +"Well, some of it. I'm not God. I can only be one place at a time. +But I do keep an eye on you guys when I can. Better than watching the +soaps." +"I don't think I want to know." +"Relationships suck. But being alone sucks worse." +"Yeah. Tell me about it." +"Am I going to have to listen to more Shakespeare today?" +"I don't know. Probably." +"I still can't believe he memorized Hamlet. For me. That was insane." +"He was in love." +"Yeah. Right. All hormones and one kiss. Friedman is worthless scum +like the rest, fickle as the wind. But... when all is said and done, +my kind of guy." They both giggled at that. "Except he's still alive +and I'm dead." Judith added, "That's a problem, but he'll get over +it." +"Won't we all," Joan said. +"Yeah. 'Death and taxes,' my dad used to mutter. Trust me, death is a +lot more sure than taxes." +-------------------------------------- +"Andy, I'm glad you could come," Kevin said as his friend settled +into the passenger seat and closed the door, which wouldn't latch. +"It needs more of a slam," Kevin said. Andy slammed it this time, and +it held. "The Gimpmobile has its quirks," Kevin added with a grin. +"Yeah. I hope it gets us there. Have you ever driven it this far?" +"Once. When I came out to see you." +"Wonderful. We'll probably get on the Beltway and the transmission +will fall out or something." +"Life's an adventure," Kevin said as he pulled out and headed down +the street to the Interstate ramp. +"Right about that. Let's see... To turn the radio on, you give it a +thump there?" +"That's it. Hope you still like country. The tuner broke and it only +gets one station now." +"I can tell this is going to be fun." +"Don't worry. The maintenance is up to date, and this baby runs like +a top." The engine coughed, as if for emphasis. Kevin laughed: "Well, +at least it runs." +"Yeah. You're making me more confident all the time." +-------------------------------------- +Friedman put on his best shirt and a tie, looking in the mirror and +getting his hair just so. His hands trembled a little; this was +almost like going to the funeral again. Picking up a paper from his +dresser, he looked at it again, mouthing the words. It would have to +do. +-------------------------------------- +Kevin and Andy rolled through Rockville on I-270, staying in the slow +lane. A sixteen-wheeler roared by after sitting on their bumper for +over a mile. "Speed limit is 55," Kevin said. "What's his problem?" +"They must think we're yokels from out in the country -- never seen a +big city interstate before," Andy said. +"Yeah. I'd probably be going 70 or 75 like they are, if the +Gimpmobile could do it. Fifty-five is about it, unless it's +downhill." +They rode on, negotiating a busy set of interchanges. +Kevin asked, "Did you know Ricky joined the Army?" +"Yeah. He signed up the day he turned eighteen, a couple months after +you guys moved away." +"He was always pretty quiet. He just played ball and went on his way; +never did all the crazy stuff we did. Never saw him at a party, not +once." +Andy said, "Most I ever got out of him was that Ben Franklin quote: +'Early to bed and early to rise.' He said he was in bed by 8:00 most +nights and up at 3:30 or 4, even on weekends. +"Great on the field, though," Kevin said. "Not much got past him at +short, and seems like he'd always scratch out a single when we had to +have it." +Andy said, "Never got any notice for it. Coach never gave him much +credit, either. He was into home runs, and Ricky couldn't hit it out +of the park if his life depended on it." +"I wish I'd known him better." +"Me too," Andy said. "Funny how you can go right on through with a +guy, from T-ball and Little League on up, and sort of take him for +granted, and never get to know him, not really." +"Yeah. I'll say this for him. I never heard Ricky say anything +negative about anyone." +"He usually didn't say much, period." +"His mom sounded pretty desperate on the phone," Kevin said. "About +like my mom must have been." +"He's their only child." +"I don't think that matters. Mom and Dad have Luke and Joan, and they +still were basket cases." +-------------------------------------- +Joan watered the crocus in her room; today of all days it had started +to bloom, despite the dismal day outside. She smiled, thinking of how +Judith would like it that the flower picked today to start blooming. +Joan was glad of the dream she'd had last night about her. "I guess +there'll always be a connection," she muttered, looking up. "Just +like You keep telling me." She looked at the clock; almost time to +go. What on earth was she going to wear? +-------------------------------------- +"Why are we stopping?" Andy asked, as Kevin signaled, slowed, and +pulled onto the narrow shoulder. +"Oil light's on." +"Here? On the Beltway?" +"Murphy's Law. It had to be here. Right where 270 joins the big +dance, and just four miles or so to our exit." Kevin grinned at his +friend, as he hit the button for the emergency flashers. "It does +this sometimes. That's why I keep a case of 50-weight in the back. +Glad you're here -- I can add the oil, but I have trouble getting the +hood closed." +Kevin started to open his door. A truck horn blared, as a +sixteen-wheeler roared by. "Uh.... Andy. Maybe you should do the oil. +I don't think I have enough room on this side to get out. Not without +ending up as road kill." +-------------------------------------- +Helen brought the coffee over, and refilled Will's cup and her own. +He nodded his thanks, munching absentmindedly on his toast. She sat +down, smiling as she smelled the hot coffee, and took a sip. +"Why do I do this stuff?" he asked. +"What stuff?" +"Work. Being a cop. Chasing bad guys." +"You're still thinking about Mike, aren't you." +"Yeah. And that slimeball Caruso." +"And?" +"Maybe its time to quit." +"Why?" +"When it puts you guys in danger, that's it. I need to do something +else. That creep has called four times this week and keeps saying +he'll come get me. What if Joan answers the door again? Or Luke?" +Helen sat down her coffee cup. +"Honey, you know better than that." +"Than what?" +"We know there are risks. I know it, the children know it. Every day, +in the back of our minds, we know that you might not make it home. +That scares the crap out of me, and I know it does the children, too. +But we all want you to be who you are. And that's being a good cop. +If something happens to any of us because of that, that's OK too. We +are sure going to stand with you, and if that means some danger, so +be it." +-------------------------------------- +"Is this the exit?" Kevin asked. +Andy glanced again at the map. "Yeah, this is it." +Kevin signaled and took the exit lane for Georgia Avenue. +"Kev, I'm scared about this." +"Yeah, me too." +"Like, what if he doesn't want to see us?" +"Could happen. We've come all this way. We'll just sit there if he +ignores us. I did that to a lot of visitors when I didn't want them +around. Everyone feeling sorry for me. I learned to tune it out." +"I mean, Ricky is a disabled vet. A hero. And we're just old +ballplayers. At least you have a connection." +"The gimp thing, yeah." +"I don't even have that." +"Lucky you." +"Yeah." + +By this time, they had reached the hospital complex. Kevin drove +slowly, looking for a place to park. He had his handicapped permit, +but all of the handicapped places were taken. He finally found a +place, far out on the edge of the complex. +"Guess we'll get our exercise today," he said. +"Looks that way. At least it's not raining." +"Not yet," Kevin said, looking at the gray overcast. +-------------------------------------- +Ricky was in a ward with seven other patients. The room had large +windows overlooking a courtyard, and would probably be cheerful on a +sunny day. Today it was gray, and dominated by the fluorescent +lights. Ricky was awake, and saw Kevin and Andy come in, but he +turned his face to the wall. Kevin rolled up beside the bed, and Andy +sat in the chair near the foot of the bed. They sat there in silence +for a few minutes; Ricky continued to ignore them. +"Kid, we're not going anyplace. In case you're wondering," Kevin +said. No response. "Well, we're here, if you decide to notice us." +They continued sitting there: five minutes. Ten. The ward was quiet. +Several of the patients were asleep. A couple of the others were +watching TV. There were the constant beeps and noises of the medical +equipment, and voices in the hall as people came and went. Kevin and +Andy sat, looking at one another and at Ricky. Andy made a motion as +if to ask, "Should we leave?" Kevin shook his head, "No." Ten minutes +became fifteen. + +Without looking at them, Ricky said, "Go away. I don't want to see +anyone." +Kevin said, "No." +Looking at them now, Ricky said, "Mom put you up to this, didn't +she?" +"Yeah." +"She thinks because you're in a chair that you and I might have +something in common." +"Something like that, I guess." +"It sucks." +"Yeah." +"Now that we've covered all possible topics of conversation, you've +done your duty. Leave. Get out of here." +"No." +"I could ask the orderlies to throw you out." +"Yeah." +"Just so you'll know, you are not going to cheer me up. I'm way past +that." +"So we figured." +"Well, why are you here?" +"We came to see you." +Ricky smiled, bitterly. "And here I am, America's hero. Plate in my +skull, sponges in here where I used to have guts, not even able to +pee without a catheter. Just one hand that I can use, until they do +another half-dozen operations. And no legs. In case you didn't +notice." +"Yeah." +"Do you know any words besides 'yeah' and 'no?'" +Kevin smiled; "A few." He continued: "Ricky, this sucks. I know that +Andy and I, we can't do any good or change anything. But when we +heard about you being here, we had to come. If nothing else, we'll +just sit here." +"Misery loves company." +"Yeah." +"There you go again; you need to enlarge your vocabulary, Kev." +-------------------------------------- +Out in the garage, Adam finished packing his backpack, making sure +there was plenty of padding around what he'd made. Last of all, he +took a little box from the work table, and slipped it in his pocket. +It was time to go; he'd better grab his coat. Maybe an umbrella too; +it looked like it might rain. +-------------------------------------- +"So we had patrol, 0600 hours, and we drew the one Hummer that still +didn't have any armor. The mine was right next to the bridge. Ripped +us apart. I'm the only one they drug out that still had a pulse. +Lisa... And Ishmael and Freddy. They probably never felt a thing. I +didn't either, not then. Didn't wake up until Germany, and I don't +remember much of that." Kevin and Andy continued to listen. "They +flew Mom and Dad over. They were by my bed in the recovery room, +after they took the legs. That was when it began to sink in, when I +saw their faces." +"Yeah," Kevin said. +"God, this sucks. I don't mind it so much about me. It's them. They +don't need a cripple for their only child. I'm never going to be able +to do anything, just lay around and cost lots of money and have +everyone feel sorry for me, or pretend that I'm invisible." +The three of them were silent. There was nothing to say. + +"Helen, go upstairs. Now." +"What?" +"Go upstairs. It's Caruso. Coming down the walk. No, I'm coming up +too; I need my gun." +Will hustled an unwilling Helen up the steps and into their bedroom. +"Stay here. If you hear anything happen downstairs, call 911." +The doorbell rang. +"Be careful, Will." +He had his gun now. "Always. I want to come home to you. That has +kept me alive more than once." +The doorbell rang again. Will walked down the steps, his gun ready. +The doorbell rang a third time. +Will stood to the side of the door, opened it quickly and took +position, ready to shoot. +Billy Caruso stood there, not moving, not saying anything. He was in +a battered gray overcoat, hanging open over the old Packers +sweatshirt he'd worn when Joan talked with him. His eyes were on the +gun in Will's hands. "Go ahead and shoot. I deserve it," Caruso said. +"What do you want?" Will said, still ready to shoot. +"Oh, put that away. I guess it doesn't matter any more. It won't +change things." Caruso held his hands out, palms up, as if to say +"I'm not armed." Will lowered his gun. +Caruso said "They let me out last month. 'Good behavior,' they said." +Will said "Yeah. I checked with the Illinois corrections people. I +can't believe they'd let a creep like you back on the street." +"I've been looking for you," Caruso said. +"So I hear." +"You get lots of time to think when you're locked up. Lots of time. +You remember things, lots of things you'd just as soon forget." +Will waited, still alert for trouble. "And?" +"Well, I had to face up to what I'd done. And I didn't like what I +saw. No, not one bit." +"You killed my partner." +"Yeah. A guy with a pregnant wife. Doing time doesn't even begin to +deal with it." +"No. I wish they'd executed you." +"Me too. It would have been easier than living with it." +"So why are you here?" +"I came looking for you, like I said. When I got out, my daughter +said I could come live with her in Philly. She's all grown up now and +has kids of her own, and a husband." +"I don't really care," Will said. "You can live under a bridge for +all I care." +Caruso nodded, and continued: "I got a job now, washing dishes at a +factory cafeteria. But that's not why I came here." +"Well, spill it," Will said. +"I know nothing I can do will change anything. Nothing can undo what +I did that day. But I have do to what little I can." He reached +inside his overcoat. Will raised his gun again. "Get your hand back +out where I can see it," Will said. +"Oh. Yeah. I guess you're right." Very slowly, Caruso pulled an +envelope from an inner pocket of his coat. Will lowered his gun. +"A couple of years ago, my mother died. I was the only child, so I +got her estate. Quite a bit, actually, a couple million dollars. +After I made sure my daughter and her family were set up all right, +there's still a lot left. Can you... could you see to it that it gets +to that woman, your partner's wife? And any family she has?" +Will looked at the envelope as Caruso held it between them. "You +can't buy your way out of what you did," he said. +"I know that. I know it won't really change anything, but I have to +do what I can. Here's the information, and the address of my lawyer +in Chicago that has the money. I've told him to do whatever you tell +him. He could put it in a trust to give her an income, or whatever." +"Why didn't you just have him do it directly? Why come to me?" +"I don't want her to know where this comes from. It would just open +old wounds. And if you decide it is more than she needs, you probably +know some other cops' families that need it. Just do whatever will +help people, that's all I'm asking." +He handed the envelope to Will, and turned to go. +"Hey Caruso," Will said. He turned back, looking at Will. "Good luck. +Good luck with everything." +-------------------------------------- +Ricky smiled and said, "Guys, I'm glad you came." +"Yeah, we are too," Andy said. +"You especially," he said, looking at Andy. "I know Mom put Kevin up +to this, but you -- you didn't have to come. You're not a gimp." +"Sometimes I wish I was, instead of Kev. Or instead of you, now." +"No you don't. Don't ever wish to be like this." Kevin and Andy took +Ricky's good hand, held it, squeezed it hard. They began to leave. + +"Can you do something for me?" Ricky asked. "Yeah, anything," Andy +and Kevin said at the same time. All three of them laughed at that. +"Lisa... God, we didn't even get to that. Lisa was... well, sort of a +girlfriend. Sort of. It was real on and off. And we'd had a fight the +night before and she wasn't talking to me that morning. If only... if +only I could take back some things, some of what I said." +Andy sat back down. Kevin wheeled his chair back around. +"She was a sweet girl, cute brunette from northern New York, a little +town close Fort Drum. Her dad had been career army, clear back to +'Nam, and she'd always been around military. He was so proud of her +-- I went home with her on leave, the one time we had a chance. And +now she's dead." +By this time, Ricky was crying, the tears running down his cheeks. +Andy reached across and got the box of tissues, and dried some of the +tears; Kevin held Ricky's hand. +"She's buried at Arlington. Could you guys go there for me? Take one +of those Veterans' Day flags, maybe. And some flowers. She loved +daisies. God, when she would put them in her hair... I can't believe +she's gone." +Andy was crying too. "Yeah. We'll do it." +"Spc. Lisa Macmillan. She'll be in the new section, where they're +putting the Iraq and Afghanistan people. Way off away from the +tourists." + +They sat in silence for a while. Kevin asked, "Rick, you going to be +OK?" +"No," he answered, trying to smile. +"We'll come back. Arcadia is not that far away. And call me, +anytime." "Me too," Andy said. +"Yeah. Thanks again. Thanks.... Don't forget about Lisa. Tell her.. +Tell her I love her. I always will." +"No. We'll take care of it. We'll head over there soon as we leave +here." +-------------------------------------- +Joan stood by Rocky's grave. She had come early, so that she could be +there for a few minutes alone. + +"Rocky," she said, "I only knew you for such a little while. I wish +it had been a lot longer. You were... you faced death well. A lot +better than I ever will. You saw it coming, and made it your friend." + +She looked around, half-expecting to see him the way she had at his +funeral, but he was not to be seen. "It sucks that you died so young. +I know you're OK now and everything, but I still don't like it. Your +mom misses you. But I guess you know that." + +She sensed that someone had come up beside her. Turning, she saw that +it was Adam. He was in a dark hooded raincoat, with his backpack. +"Hi," he said. +"Hi." +"I thought you might be here." +"Yeah." + +They stood there for a bit. "I wish I'd met him," Adam said. "He must +have been a good kid." +"Yeah, he was." +"You okay?" he asked. +"No. Are you?" +"No." +Joan began to cry. Adam shyly took her hand. She held it tightly, +grateful for the contact. + +After a long while, he said, "Jane?" +"Mmm-hmm?" Joan replied. +"I was wondering, you know, if maybe... " Adam faltered to a stop. +Turning to him, "Yes?" +"I want to go over to Mom's grave." +"Sure." +"That's why I came out early. I went over there, and I couldn't do +it, not by myself. Would you go over with me?" +Joan squeezed his hand. "Of course I will." + +They walked hand in hand down the row of tombstones; Elizabeth's +grave was not far from Rocky's. Joan and Adam stood at the foot of +her grave for a long while. A cold drizzle began to fall. The bare +limbs of the trees on their left rustled as the wind picked up. + +Adam spoke, so softly that Joan could not tell whether he was talking +to himself or to her. +"I remember when I was in kindergarten and we were supposed to draw a +house. All the other kids drew a kid house, you know, a box with two +windows and a door and a curl of smoke from a chimney. The teacher +loved it, and told them how good they all were. My house was +different. I got this idea that I'd show all the rooms at once with +all the furniture and the plumbing and the electric wires, all kind +of piled up in four or five dimensions, and all the people that had +ever lived there before us. The teacher frowned at me when she saw it +and said 'Now Adam. Be a good little boy and draw a house the way it +is supposed to be.' I didn't know what to do, so I started crying, +and the other kids made fun of me, all except Grace. She told them to +shut up. She hit one of the boys, and the teacher made her go sit in +the corner." + +Joan held Adam's hand. She was starting to cry again. +"I took it home, all smudged where I'd cried on it. I didn't even +have to tell Mom what it was. As soon as she saw it, she said 'That's +our house, isn't it?' She hugged me, and hung it on the refrigerator. +It stayed there for years." + +"I wish I'd known her," Joan said. +"She would have liked you. She saw lots of stuff that other people +can't see, and she would see what a good person you are." +Joan didn't know what to say to this. Adam took his hand from Joan's, +and reached into an inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out a little +cardboard box, what might have once been a box for a ring. "I made +this for you, Mom," he said. He opened it, and took out a tiny +sculpture: a woman surrounded by a nimbus of bright wires, looping +around her like ripples in a three-dimensional pond. Kneeling on one +knee in the wet grass, he set it gently at the foot of the tombstone. +"If there's ever any good ripples that come from me, you're the one +who started it." + +Joan stood behind Adam, her hands on his shoulders. She was +awestruck. The little sculpture was exquisite, like a tiny jewel, or +a star in the night sky. Looking up, she saw that Grace was standing +there. As Adam stood up, Grace came over and hugged him, hard, +neither of them saying a word. Finally she spoke, "The others are +here. We'd better go." + +The three of them walked toward the chapel, as the drizzle grew into +a steady cold rain. + +"This is the third time we've crossed this bridge," Kevin said as +they crossed the Potomac in heavy afternoon traffic. +"I think we just need to get in that lane and we'll be able to get in +the place this time," Andy said. "Yeah, there it is. There's the +sign." +-------------------------------------- +Friedman, Glynis and Luke stood inside the chapel waiting for them. +Joan went to Luke, taking his hands in hers. "I'm glad you came," she +said. Luke smiled, a little. "I'm sorry I've been such a grouch," he +said. +"It's OK. For what it's worth, I'm on your side. You would knock 'em +dead at MIT, now or anytime." +"Thanks. Thanks, Joan. That means a lot." +"Tell her about the admissions guy," Grace said. +"Oh yeah. I called the admissions office yesterday after school and +told them the situation. He said that the scholarship still holds, +even if I don't start until fall 2007. And he said I might as well +get some general studies courses out of the way at Dawson. They would +work with the Dawson people and make sure that the courses transfer." +"Luke, that's great news!" Joan said. +"I still want to go. It's not fair." +"Unchallenged," Joan said. "Life's not fair, is it?" +"No," he said, sadly shaking his head. "That's kind of what today is +all about, I guess. Life is definitely not fair." + +The six of them walked down the drive toward Judith's grave. The +little group huddled together against the wind, now blowing steadily +as the temperature dropped. A few leaves, the last of the season, +swirled around them. They saw two people standing by the grave, +holding one another. "I wonder who that is," Grace said. The two +people heard the group and turned to see who they were. "Look, it's +Judith's parents," Joan said. + +"Mr. Montgomery. Mrs. Montgomery," Joan said, as the group gathered +beside them. Seeming surprised that the young people had come, Mr. +Montgomery said "It is a dark day for this sort of thing. I'm glad +you came." +"We had to," Joan said, finding herself the spokesperson for the +group. "We haven't forgotten." +"Nor have we," Mrs. Montgomery said. +"We don't want to intrude," Mr. Montgomery said. "We've been here for +a while, and I guess we'll go now." +"Don't go," Joan said. "Stay here with us. We all cared about Judith. +We ought to all be here together." +Touched by Joan's offer, Mr. Montgomery said "Thank you. That is very +kind." + +The tombstone read: + +Quote: +Judith Montgomery +Beloved Daughter +March 9th, 1988 +November 12, 2004 + +There were flowers on the grave, obviously from the Montgomerys. The +eight of them stood in a little group around the grave. + +"We failed her," Mrs. Montgomery said. "We were so busy with our jobs +that we didn't have time for her. She made it hard for us to try and +get through, but that doesn't excuse us. We didn't try hard enough. +If only we could start over..." + +Joan came over and hugged her. For a moment, Joan could think of +nothing to say. Slowly, she said "Judith is all right now. Everything +is all right." + +"I wish I knew that," Mr. Montgomery said. "God, I wish I knew that." +Not knowing what else she could say, Joan kept her silence, and +hugged him also. + +Grace spoke up. "Judith, you rocked. You broke every convention. You +turned everything upside down. We miss you, girl." + +After a moment, Luke said "You have gone on into another continuum. +You see things now that our eyes are too dim to see. You hear things +our ears are too dull to hear. If there is a God, you must be seeing +Him face to face, and you must know the things that still mystify us. +We will come to you, but you can no longer come to us. Go gently and +be at peace, friend." + +Glynis said "I didn't know Judith much at all. But I wish her well. +And I'm here for all of you... all of you, my friends." She turned +away, shy at having said what she said. + +Adam set his backpack on the ground, opened it, and pulled out +something wrapped in a cloth. He motioned for Joan to help him, and +the two of them unwrapped it. + +It was Judith, whirling on one foot in a wild dance, her arms +outstretched and her hair flying about her. She had a huge smile on +her face as she looked skyward, as if she were caught up in a moment +of fierce joy. + +"Here. You should have this," Adam said. +They looked at the sculpture, and at Adam. "We can't take this. +It's... it is stunning," Mrs. Montgomery said. "You should sell this; +it would be worth a lot of money." +"No. I can't sell something like this. I made it for Judith. I was +going to leave it here, but you should have it." + +Joan added her voice: "Yes. You should have it. I think Judith would +want it that way." Adam pressed the sculpture into Mr. Montgomery's +hands. Reluctantly, he took it, cradling it carefully in his arms. + +Joan began to speak. "You saved my life, Judith. Back there at crazy +camp, I was losing it. I was going insane, and didn't believe in +anyone or anything anymore. But you drug me back up and made me keep +on living." Looking down at her feet, Joan continued, "I wish I had +been there for you. I was too wrapped up in myself last fall, and +I... I wasn't paying enough attention to you or to anything. I didn't +see what was happening to you, not until it was too late." + +Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out three balls. "I still have +the juggling balls. I... I try sometimes, for you. But I just can't +do it, not without you." Sobbing now, she said "I miss you so much! I +wish you were still here with us." Grace and Luke hugged her and held +her as she turned away, trying to hide her tears. Mrs. Montgomery +came over, shyly, and took Joan's hand. "Thank you for everything," +she murmured. "You were there for Judith when no one else was." Joan +smiled through her tears and nodded. + +"I was crazy last fall," Friedman said, while this was going on. "No, +I've always been crazy." The others smiled. "Judith, you were crazy +too. You were a blaze of light, too bright to bear... I guess maybe +too bright to last on this earth." + +After a moment he continued, "You weren't exactly falling for my +boyish charm. Not even for my Hamlet. And that's OK. But I hope you +realized that I really did love you." + +Looking at Glynis, who seemed uncomfortable with his remarks, +Friedman continued, "I've moved on now. We all have, because we must. +But we will remember you, always." + +Looking around at the group, as if unsure whether to say more, he +continued: + +"Judith, now you sleep. 'Perchance to dream?' +Or is it a formless night without morning, +The end of a 'tale +Told by an idiot, +Signifying nothing?' + +Was I no more than a pest? +Or do you dream of me, as I of you, +Awaiting a morning where +Even love stillborn +is honored?" + +-------------------------------------- + +There were rows of graves, some of them fresh, all in military +precision with identical white markers. Many of them had little +American flags from the crowd of visitors for the Veterans' Day +ceremonies the day before. Kevin and Andy were alone in the cold +rain, except for an old woman down the way in a black raincoat but +bareheaded, kneeling in the wet grass and weeping silently by a fresh +grave. + +Quote: +Lisa A. Macmillan, Spc. U.S. Army +Operation Iraqi Freedom +August 18, 1984 - September 4, 2005 + +Kevin rolled up to the marker, leaned over, and planted the little +flag by it, next to one that was already there. Andy gently laid the +little bouquet of daisies on the mound, where grass was just +beginning to grow back. + +"Lisa, friend of our friend," Kevin said, softly. "We don't know if +you can hear us, but Ricky misses you. I think he wishes he were +dead, too." +"He wants you to know that he loves you," Andy said. "He's a good +guy, and we hope you'll think well of him." +"We wish you well, wherever you are. May you have rest, and peace." + +The old woman stood, slowly and with effort, and with a last look at +the grave began walking their way. She nodded to them as she passed, +her black-and-gray hair soaking wet and plastered to her forehead, +her face wrinkled, her Oriental eyes dark and sad, and red from +weeping. They returned the nod and watched as she slowly made her way +down the row, tiny and fragile-looking in the rain. + +-------------------------------------- + +The rain fell steadily, harder now than before. Joan and Adam walked +slowly along the sidewalk, holding hands and sheltering under his +umbrella. Their breath was now making clouds of steam, as the +temperature continued to drop. Each of them was lost in thought, glad +simply to have each other's company. They were almost to the Girardi +house before Adam spoke: + +"I was thinking... you know, the other part of a year ago." +"Yeah. I was thinking about that too." +"It was good." +Joan looked at Adam, and smiled. He smiled back, his little smile +that she loved. "You were so handsome. I thought my Prince Charming +had come to sweep me off my feet." +"You were beautiful. I've tried to draw you, what you looked like +that night. I can't. I don't have any way to measure up to it." +"That was such a good time," Joan said. +"I really thought things were going to be OK," Adam said, softly, +"Like I'd finally found someone, and we'd be together forever." +"Yeah, like the old stories: 'And they lived happily ever after.' +Hasn't happened." +"No. I wish it had." +They walked on a bit. Adam broke the silence: "I hate that I screwed +things up." +"You weren't the only one. We both screwed up. I sometimes wish we +could go back a year, back to that night. And before Judith died. I +wish we could bring her back." +"I wonder if we'll ever be like we were a year ago. Seems like +another universe or something." +"I guess not," Joan said. "It's like being a child, maybe. We can't +go back there again." She stopped and turned to Adam. "But we're +where we are now. And we can go on from here, the best we can." +"Unchallenged," he said softly. +Adam kissed her, a shy little kiss on the cheek. "I love you." +She smiled at him. "I love you too." Gently, she reached up and +touched his face. + +They embraced in the cold rain, kissing tenderly and long as the +early dark of November deepened around them. |