Page 28 of Casualties of War
Stuart’s announcement that he and Parris were divorcing was a genuine shock to Adán. He gripped his bottle of Perrier, staring at the top of Stuart’s head as the man recovered his composure. They were sitting on Adán boat—the first sail boat, which he had wanted all along. They were a speck on the ocean, twenty miles from shore.
“In God’s name, why?” Adán demanded. “I don’t understand. Is itbecause she is away so often? Surely you can work something out?”
Stuart shook his head. “It’s not because she’s gone so much. That I could handle. Ididhandle it.” Misery filled his face. “I can’t stand waiting for her to come home on a stretcher or in a casket. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want a folded flag on my mantle, Adán. It would…it would kill me.” He wiped his eyes. “It’s betterto not know at all. To not have to wait.”
Adán adjusted the wheel, and tightened the jib sheet, thinking hard.
“You think I’m crazy. I can see it in your face,” Stuart said.
Adán shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all. I’d never thought about what she does that way.”
“I guess you have to live with a soldier to get it,” Stuart said, his voice strained.
“Ididlive with soldiers,”Adán shot back.
Stuart’s eyes widened.
“I grew up in a military family,” Adán reminded him. “My uncle is the President of Vistaria and he got the job because he was the strongest general in the Vistarian Army. My other uncle is up to his neck in army stuff. Military service is the backbone of Vistarian society. Even my father served, before he came to Hollywood. I grew up watching soldiers leavetheir families and head out. Pull on that rope next to your hip, until it’s tight.”
Stuart worked the sheet and anchored it, winding the wrong way. He was a newbie around boats and he was too upset to care.
“I had forgotten about your family history,” Stuart said. “Only, that’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because…well…a man heading off to war is…well, it’s different.”
“Now you’re just being sexist,”Adán said, with a small smile. “Women serve in the Vistarian Army, too.”
Stuart’s gaze met his. “You ever kiss your wife goodbye and know there was a chance she might not come back?”
Adán drew in a deep, deep breath and let it out. “No.”
Stuart got drunk to the point where Adán told him to stay on the seat and not trip him up while he guided the boat back to the marina. That day made Adán thinkabout one-man sailing and finding a boat he could handle by himself.
After the divorce, Adán saw Parris less often. She and Stuart remained friends but of the once-a-year-catch-up variety. Stuart avoided learning about her day-to-day life.
Adán thought about contacting Parris directly, only it felt like a betrayal of his friendship with Stuart. Also, he had no ideahowto contact her anymore,short of asking Stuart for her details and he wouldn’t do that. Besides, she was never home.
On top of that, the years of endless work had netted Adán a career jammed full of work. His contracts extended for three years and Ariella juggled up to five years ahead. Even if Adán wanted to track Parris down, he didn’t have the time.
They were all good reasons, just not the real reason he didn’treach out to her. Guilt was a mental monster lurking in his soul. It kept him contained and alone and told him emptiness was all he deserved.
* * * * *
The sparkling resorts and buildings of Acapulco glinted in the late afternoon sun, as Adán adjusted the course to head north of the city and reeled in the spinnaker. The waters around Acapulco were busy—pleasure craft and monster ocean cruisersand a sprinkling of fishing boats heading out for night fishing. It kept Adán’s mind off old memories for a while.
An hour from the big house, he was hailed by an antique wooden fishing boat that paralleled his course and demanded he drop sail.
Adán used the glasses to check the boat out. Every man standing on the crowded deck wore the dark green Loyalist uniform.
He’d met the new Vistariannavy.
After checking his passport and reaching out to the big house for further instructions, the lieutenant in charge ordered his crew to tow Adán into the big house. The rope was tossed across and secured. The fishing boat, with a powerful engine hidden beneath the creaking hull, set up a steady pace across the choppy waters, heading for shore.
It left Adán with nothing to do but sit and watchAcapulco draw closer and wonder about the reception that awaited him. In between, he mused about the past.
The past had been with him throughout the journey south, for Parris had sent him here. Parris and her pure ideals and intolerance for bullshit, who had shaved away his illusions until all that remained was undisguised truth.
