Page 41 of Bones

“Anything is fine with me.” When he stopped on one of the old Rambo movies, I shook my head and said, “Except that.”

“Why? You got something against Rambo?”

“No, I’m just not in the mood for a trigger-happy militant with a bad haircut.” His mouth dropped like he was wounded by my comment, so I asked, “Why? Is this your favorite movie or something?”

"No, I wouldn’t say that, but Rambo is one of the classics.”

“A classic? I think you’re pushing it there a little.”

“No way.” Wyatt’s brows furrowed. “He’s a Vietnam War veteran who takes justice into his own hands. The man is an American legend.”

“Who made his name by blowing people up.”

“He’s a highly skilled soldier.”

“Um-hmm.”

“You know, it’s not just about blowing people up. There’s an emotional side, too.”

“Oh really?”

“Absolutely. He’s struggling to process his own trauma from the war. The whole thing speaks to the strength of humanity in the face of adversity.”

I started giggling as I said, “I can’t tell if you are being serious right now.”

“Of course, I’m being serious.” His face showed zero emotion as he told me,

“You can’t go wrong when you’re fighting for what’s right.”

“Okay, fine. We can watch it.”

“Nah.” A lopsided grin crept across his face. “I’m not in the mood for an American legend tonight.”

“Seriously?” I gave him a nudge and chuckled, “You put me through all that for nothing.”

“Just giving you some insight on a classic.” He started flipping through the channels, and when he couldn’t find something that appealed to him, he offered the remote to me. “Your turn.”

“Okay, but I don’t think I’m going to have any better luck.” I started flipping through the various movie channels, and it wasn’t long before I came across an old Morgan Freeman movie. “How about this one?”

“Looks good to me.”

We both settled in on the sofa, and it wasn’t long before we were both engrossed in the movie. It was a thriller where several women were being held captive in a cave—one of them being Freeman’s niece. It was an older movie, but Wyatt seemed to be enjoying it. I didn’t really care about the movie. I was just happy to be there with him.

When it was over, I motioned my hand towards the screen and announced, “I knew it was him.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.” I rested my head on Wyatt’s shoulder. “They always try and make it the guy you least expect, but they’re the ones I always expect the most.”

“So, you knew that from the start that it was the cop?”

“No, but all that good ol’ boy, ‘I’ll take care of you and watch over you’ stuff, is always a red flag. They try to give you this false sense of security by making the bad guy look innocent. It never works, especially when it’s some sweet, little old guy who lives alone and has no life.” I was tired and rambling when I closed my eyes and told him, “They are always the ones with some shady background that no one thought to check out.”

“You’re right.”

Wyatt sat up, and I could tell by his expression that something was wrong, but I had no idea what had him so rattled. After several seconds, he stood and said, “I’ve gotta go.”

“What? Right now?” I glanced over at the clock as I told him, “It’s after midnight.”

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