And Crawling Things Lurk

Cedar City, California

One year and two months later

Don laid down the basting brush on the side of the gas barbecue and closed the lid before turning to greet Jim and Pam when they walked through the gate.

“Hey there, buddy,” Jim called out. “Welcome home. Catchin’ on to married life, yet, are you?”

Don scooped in his new bride with one arm as she was walking past. “Oh, sure. It’s a cinch. Just do what I’m told and no back-talk. Hell, we learned all that back in boot camp.”

Laura nuzzled his ear and turned her head to smile at her employer as she responded to her husband. “And don’t you forget it.” Then to Jim, to whom she handed a glass of wine, she added, “He’s a fast learner.”

Pam gave Laura a hug when she received her wine glass and blew a kiss to Don before asking, “So, how was the cruise? Did you two get out of your cabin long enough to go ashore? I hope you brought me a souvenir.”

Laura gave Pam a big grin, and then with eyes wide to show her shock, she replied, “You mean we didn’t have to stay in the cabin the whole time? Don, you said we had to stay in the cabin. You said it was the rule of the sea. And after I promised Pam I’d get her something from at least one of the ports.”

“What are you talking about?” Don responded. “I was looking forward to getting in some skeet shooting off the stern and taking some yoga classes – oh, man, Jim, you should have seen the yoga instructor. Anyway,” back to his bride, “you’re the one that locked the door and tossed the key out the porthole.”

“But you’re the one that tossed our clothes out after it. More crap about rules of the sea, as I recall.”

Pat grinned and said, “So, overall, a passable honeymoon.”

Returning the grin, Lauren replied, “Eminently!”

They all turned toward the gate when it opened and watched Muri precede her parents into the back yard. Wearing a big grin, Muri marched straight into Laura’s arms.

Don greeted Muri’s dad with a handshake and a nod to her mom. “I’m glad you could come, Mister Astor…Missus Astor.”

“Please,” her dad replied. “Make it Lee and Ellen, and we’re truly happy to be here. When Muri said she thought it was to honor Jackie, we wouldn’t miss it.”

“Is Carl here, yet?” Muri asked, looking at who was present in the back yard, and then up at Laura from under her arm.

“Not yet. He and his friend should be here any time.”

“Who is his friend? Did he know Jackie?”

Don answered, “Well, he’s someone from the army, is all Carl said. You’ll have to ask him if he knew Jackie.”

“What’s he coming here for? Are they going to have a parade or something?”

Don looked over at Jim and shrugged his shoulders, so Jim responded. “Could happen, I suppose. I wouldn’t oppose it.”

“So, what is he coming for, then?”

“Looks like you’ll just have to wait and see like the rest of us. Carl just said to make sure we were all present, including Gramma. She should be here any time, now. Ray is picking her up.”

Don’s reply and grin got a stomped foot response from Muri along with, “When I saw her yesterday she didn’t say anything about it.”

Don had leaned up against the picnic table and crossed his arms in a familiar pose he assumed when they ran across each other at the Dairy Queen. “Carl only told us about it yesterday. Gramma didn’t know about it until I went to see her last night right after I called your dad. We don’t know what’s going on, either, only that Carl asked us all to be here when he brings someone from the army that he says has something really, really important to tell us regarding Jackie, and that we’ll like it. There, now you know as much as I do.”

Muri looked at Laura, at her mom and dad, at Jim and Pam, and again at Don. “I bet they are going to have a parade and call it the Jackie Simms Memorial Parade or something…or maybe they’re going to put a plaque next to the flagpole in the park with Jackie’s name and all, ’cause now everyone knows he was a real hero, after all. Do you think they’ll let me be in the parade?”

Jim rubbed his chin for a moment before replying. “A situation like that would call for you and Don, and Carl, too, sitting up in the judges stand with the mayor and anyone else important. Or, I suppose, they could let you ride in the convertible leading the parade.”

Muri eyed him for a moment while one eyebrow slowly arched before turning back to Don. “Is he teasing me?”

She looked at Laura when Don’s only response was a shrug. Laura said, “With these two, the most likely answer is, Of course. But neither parade nor plaque are out of question. I think a parade, maybe even yearly, named after Jackie would be very nice, and certainly appropriate. I like the flagpole idea too. Like you said, he was a real hero.”

At the sound of a car door closing out front accompanied by the voice of the dispatcher speaking over the police radio, Don said, “That must be Gramma.”

After a moment, the gate opened, and Ray walked in with Jackie’s grandmother.

Muri walked over to her and planted a kiss on her cheek before asking, “Do you have any idea what’s going on? They won’t tell me anything. Well, hardly anything.”

“No, I don’t, dear, only that it’s about Jackie. Good afternoon, Ellen. Lee, that darned faucet still makes that irritating noise. It’s not impossible to live with, but it refuses to be ignored.”

With a chuckle, Lee said, “I had doubts that simply bleeding the air out one time would do it. I’ll take another look on Saturday, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, sure, that’ll be fine. I really appreciate you coming over. Thank you. Good evening, Officer Evans. It’s good to see you again. You have a lovely place, here.”

“Well, thank you and come on in, but, please, just call me Don, and this is Laura, and that’s Pam and Jim. Thanks, Ray.”

With a wave in acknowledgment, Ray turned and went back through to the gate to resume patrol.

Don handed Gramma a glass of lemonade when she declined wine. He had just got her settled into one the new plush chairs surrounding a fire-pit when the sounds of car doors closing out front announced another arrival. He said, “Okay, that has to be Carl. No one else is coming.”

Moments later, the gate opened, and Carl walked in leading a man Don didn’t know. The stranger was about Don’s age or a year or two older. He was taller and looked fit in his U. S. Army class-A uniform. Rows of ribbons filled most of the space above his left breast pocket. On the top row he recognized a Purple Heart, a Silver Star, and a Distinguished Service Cross. The decoration commonly referred to as scrambled eggs covered his hat bill, and the silver eagles perched on his shoulders identified him as a colonel.

Carl was still the biggest person, by far, in the back yard, but he seemed less imposing than Don remembered. The wide shoulders slumped just enough to suggest a level of weariness unaccounted for by the mere passage of a year’s time. He knew the retired academician had spent most of the time since the event in trying to convince his fellows that it had, indeed, happened. Even with the actual body of the beast on hand and available for examination, not to mention the horror of her leavings in the pit beneath the mansion, it was simply too much for the establishment to readily accept. Even when Carl was able to convince someone to actually see and touch Sofia’s body, including resorting to x-ray, MRI, dissection, or anything else that wouldn’t totally destroy it, the response was often skepticism, and at times, even accusations of fraud. Although, no one could come up with a way he could have pulled off such an elaborate scheme. It was easier to just shake their heads and walk away. Still, he kept at it, and he claimed to be gradually winning over the less skeptical.

Laura met him with a long, silent hug.

As they broke apart, he lifted her left hand and lightly caressed her new wedding ring with his thumb. “So, does this mean it’s too late for me to come a courtin’?”

With a grin and a wink, she leaned into him and replied loud enough for all to hear, “Of course not. We just won’t tell him.”

His laugh was almost like the Carl of old, and it felt good in Don’s ears. He turned to the man that had come in with Carl and held out his hand in greeting. “Good evening, Colonel, and welcome. Hope you like baby back ribs.”

“Love ’em. Do you do ’em southern or southwestern?”

“Southern. My beef ribs get southwestern.”

“Have you tried Kansas City for beef?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s a toss-up, though. Come on and let me introduce you around.”

After they made the rounds, ending with Gramma, the colonel smiled, and shook her hand as he removed his hat and knelt before her. “Missus Simms, it is a pleasure to meet you. I understand Mister Sanders didn’t tell anyone here the reason for my visit, so let me ease any misgivings by saying it is to personally deliver an invitation for you to come to Washington D. C. next month. Airfare and accommodations will be provided. It seems the events here last year in which your grandson once again demonstrated his valor, has brought his name back to the fore more than what some of my colleagues and I have managed. Even as unbelievable as those events were, as Mister Sanders can attest, they had the effect of bringing again to light the actions Sergeant Simms had taken in Somalia. Still, I am proud to say our endeavors played at least a small part in achieving an upgrade of the Silver Star previously awarded to your grandson. I am now honored to extend to you this invitation to a ceremony at the White House on October fifteen at which time the President will present to you the Medal of Honor in the name of Sergeant John R. Simms.”

Gramma accepted the piece of paper and read silently as her eyes glistened with increasing moisture. Silence reigned in the back yard other than the sizzle of fat dripping on hot metal in the barbecue. A dog barked in the distance. Another one answered from farther away. From more distant, yet, came wafting the mournful baying of a hound.

Muri stepped over to Don, took his hand in hers and said, “He really was a hero, wasn’t he? A real one.”

“He really was,” Don echoed. “A real one.”