Chapter 33

As I had promised Randi, Thanksgiving was celebrated at my house. She and Samantha were in the kitchen talking about writing while Arnie and I sipped our drinks on the porch. We hadn’t talked since the shoot-out at the I.A.F. building.

“Didn’t save much of anything did we?” I mused, not really expecting an answer.

General Hortencio Villarosa had signed the treaty the very next day and in less than a week American “advisors” were “in country.” The first one died a week later, while on patrol. His name was Norman Powell and I saw his picture in the morning paper. There are no nameless, faceless dead.

“There was nothing you could do for the kid,” Arnie said.

“Oh, I got him his second chance, that’s for sure.”

That second chance for Marty Fernandez was an admission to a psychiatric hospital where he was kept on a round-the-clock suicide watch. Four days later though, he leaped out of his new therapist’s third floor office window and died instantly on the hood of a visitor’s car forty feet below.

“You gave me a second chance too, remember?” Arnie reminded me.

“No. I wasn’t smart enough for that. Samantha knew what you needed. A way to recoup your honor. That’s why she told you where I was instead of calling the police.” Arnie began to disagree but I waved him off. “No. She didn’t tell me that. She wouldn’t. I called the Rev. Your work for him was nowhere near Georgetown. In fact he told me that you’d delivered the guy to him at six A.M.”

“It’s what I am, Leo. The code is a part of me all the way through. I wish I could come all the way home, and sometimes it really hurts, like at the wall, but I have to accept that that’s the price I pay, and for right now, I’m willing to pay it. Besides, I have friends who are willing to meet me halfway.”

“That’s right, you do, friend.” Though I was smiling at his words, inside I remembered my lie to Samantha about what I was doing in Gutierrez’s office. One day a lie like that would cost me more than it was worth. You can’t have it all, Haggerty, I thought. When was I going to learn that?

Randi came out and told us that dinner was ready. I followed Arnie inside and took a moment to appreciate the bounty before us. Since Nate Grossbart had been able to extract the full death benefits due Marta Vasquez from her husband’s life insurance policy, he gave me no more trouble than I expected when it came to paying my bill. A fair piece of that fee was on the table or in the oven or chilling in the refrigerator.

Samantha came up to me, kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear, “I’ve been in the kitchen talking to Randi.”

“What about?”

“About writing, school, being a woman, boys and men—and you. You know how you said your work was as enduring as bubble gum? Think again. You’ll be a part of that child forever. Like you’re a part of me.”

“I’m a lucky man indeed,” I said and put my arm around her.

When we were all seated, I looked around at my makeshift family. They were not exactly what I had once envisioned but I was well blessed. Samantha suggested a moment of silence before we ate. We bowed our heads to give thanks. Through it all, though, I heard the sound of distant guns.