Memorial Day
Joe has had a rocky relationship with his subject, Duncan MacLeod. It has cost both of them friends and will always be difficult for them.
Cord was part of Joe's life before the Watchers and one of the "Band of Brothers". Marines take that phrase seriously. I've run into people I knew 40 years ago and been greeted as warmly as any blood sister or brother could wish for.
Joe is torn between the knowlege that Cord is a cold blooded killer, and the fact that he saved Joe's life. Duncan's "We're through." hurts him deeply and from the set of Duncan's shoulders, he too, is hurt.
I printed out the e-ticket. "I owe you this much, Andy."
It had been more than twenty years since I'd been in D.C. I'd made a decent life for myself. The Blues bar was picking up steam and my assignment, Duncan MacLeod, looked like he was going to stay in Seacouver for a bit.
Mike would keep an eye on the place while I was gone. Mac… I didn't really want to see him right now. He was right, Andy had forced the confrontation. It didn't make it any easier to know that the man who'd saved my ass in 'Nam was dead at Mac's hand.
Charley was dead too.
I hate this. Immortals have to live with this bloody, murderous way of life all the time. There's a difference between Watching them deal with it and having to deal with it myself.
James is dead, two people, close to me, dead. 'Nam was a war. I killed there, too, and lost friends, men I'd eaten with, slept in the mud with… I needed to remember them. I needed to quit pretending it didn't happen or that it wasn't as bad as the killing the Immortals do.
I tried to sleep on the plane but the closer to D.C. I got, the worse I felt.
The wheeled luggage was easy to handle and the shuttle got me to the hotel quickly. I changed clothes and decided to go down to the restaurant for dinner.
I sat there, sipping scotch and trying to decide what to eat. There were couples and families all around me. People going about their business, talking and smiling as though there was nothing special about the day. I finished my drink and suddenly unable to deal with having all those smiling faces around me, I left the table, asked the waiter to charge the drink to my room and walked out to the cabstand.
"The Wall," The cabbie didn't even hesitate. The day had
turned shadowy and by the time I got out of the cab, there was a slight
drizzle.
It fit my mood.
The lawn was green with the May grass. Flowers and candles were placed at many sections of the Wall. People were standing, or sitting quietly, staring at it; reading the names…Some of the cherry trees still had blooms. The stark, black marble marched across the area, gold names picking up what little light was left.
My brothers and sisters; Air Force, Army, Navy… Marines. The sudden pain was a knife in my gut.
Did MacLeod feel like this about Brian Cullen or Michael Moore?
How many
wars had he fought with the men around him falling? Were the soldiers
that fell at Culloden as close to him as these men were to me?
Vietnam was bad. My legs were really the least of what I'd left there.
My soul was scarred and my innocence was left in those small villages
with the screams of the dying.
Looking at the names, my eyes burned and I fumbled for a handkerchief.
I sat down on a handy bench. They were all there, the men of the company I'd gone through Boot Camp, ITR and all the almost ritualistic bitching and moaning that went with it.
"Sleep well, my friends. Sleep well." I let the drizzle dampen my overcoat. It only seemed right that I should be miserable here where the results of misery were remembered. The crowd had thinned out, the rain growing heavier. Finally, I got up to look for one more name. I knew it was there. I'd read the list when the Memorial went up. It hadn't really registered with me, that Andy was Immortal. I think the combination of having to learn to walk again and going off to become a Watcher blurred that particular fact.
Toward the end of the shining blackness, there it was. Andrew Cord, SSGT, USMC. God, Andy. I wish you'd never gotten involved with the arms dealers. I wish you'd never come to Seacouver. I wish…
Too late to wish for things to be different. Too late to go back
and tell Andy to get the hell out of town. He wouldn't have gone,
anyway. The fight was inevitable. Mac couldn't have done anything
else. Neither could Andy and neither could I.
Maybe that was the saddest part of all of it. Andy Cord was my brother, part of the "Band of Brothers…" Duncan MacLeod was my friend. Like so many other things in life, there were no good choices…
"Good bye Andy." Slowly, I got to my feet. Almost automatically, my right hand came up in salute.
The Wall was almost invisible in the gathering darkness. Only a few candles still burned in the rain. There was a taxi at the corner. As we drove away, I took a last look at the memorial, the past was the past but I would never forget any of them.
That last duty was done. Time to move on. Memorial Day, the day of remembrance was over.
~30~