The Grey Man- Changes Page 11
The old man smiled. “I’m not going anywhere in a hurry Momma Trần. And I appreciate the tea. How are the family all doing?”
Mrs. Trần served the old man a cup of tea and harrumphed. “They all lazy. No work, just want money. I make them clean today, your room clean too. I also make damn sure Billy pay them well!” she cackled.
The old man laughed at that. “I’m sure you did, Momma. You always did have a head for money.”
She cackled again. “Man not manage money. You all think with little head. Woman think with big head. That is why I become accountant many years ago. I know Loc would spend every piaster unless I hold money.”
The old man nodded as he thought back over the years to the stories of their lives. Loc and Nin Trần had run a rubber plantation for the French in the 50s after Loc had lost an arm in World War II. Barely escaping with their lives and their children when the VC started the war against South Vietnam, they had run from the plantation just ahead of the battle. They’d made it out in 1975 with 50 others on a small boat and ended up at Grande Island in the Philippines, then sponsorship by a Catholic church here in Houston. They’d started over with nothing.
Just then, Billy charged through the door. “Damn, I’m fifteen minutes late and you’re already trying to corrupt Momma. Momma, don’t believe a word this asshole says!” He winked at the old man as he gave Mrs. Trần a quick hug. “Make yourself comfortable, John. I gotta get out of this damn monkey suit.”
The old man just shook his head. “Take your time. I’m not starving or anything.”
Mrs. Trần cackled again. “Billy, you no make mess in your room. Pick up your damn clothes.”
Billy threw over his shoulder, “Yes, mother.” He laughed and disappeared down the hall.
Mrs. Trần grumbled, “Men! You are all alike. Useless but for one thing.”
The old man held up his hands. “I didn’t say a word! And I need to get my clothes out of the car. Can I have one more cup of tea please?”
Mrs. Trần nodded gracefully as the old man got up and retrieved his bag. Walking back in, he headed down the hall to the spare bedroom and saw that Mrs. Trần had put fresh towels and a washcloth on the bed for him. He flipped the bag onto the bed and headed back to the kitchen just as Billy emerged from the master bedroom. He and Billy came back into the kitchen together and Billy rummaged around in the fridge till he found a Diet Coke. “These damn things are going to kill me,” he said. “But I’m not getting any exercise and I’m getting way too fat. I need to actually start working out again.”
The old man sipped his tea and laughed. “Don’t you get enough exercise with all your jumping around and histrionics in the courtroom, Billy?”
“Shit, that’s all an act. You know that.”
“Yeah, but still. I hate to say it, but Momma looks like she’s aging pretty badly.”
Billy sighed. “Yeah, losing the old man four years ago and then Anh dying three years ago damn near killed her. And me too.”
The old man said, “Yeah, I know that’s tough. I still miss Amy every day. It’s still hard to believe Anh is gone.”
Billy walked over to the piano and picked up a picture, staring down at it for a minute. “Harder than you know, John. I thought I’d lost her when the VC took over, and getting that letter from the PI was like a new lease on life.” Turning the picture around, he said, “You remember this?”
The old man squinted and realized it was the four of them, taken in 1976 when Billy married Anh and he and Amy stood up with them. It had always struck him as a funny picture, because he and Amy had towered over both Billy and Anh. She had been dressed in a traditional Ao Dai and looked all of about sixteen, even though she was twenty-five at the time. “Yeah, I remember it. Those were the good times.”
Billy sat the picture back on the piano and meticulously arranged it in the same place. “I’d just gotten started in practice, didn’t have a pot to piss in. Anh was helping with the yard care business, and I was chasing ambulances all over Houston. Anh knew she’d never be allowed to be a nurse here, and that threw her back into flowers and music.” Billy softly rubbed the top of the piano and continued, “She loved growing flowers, and she loved her music.”
The old man said, “I remember us sitting here just after you bought this place, and her playing that piano for us and telling Amy how much she loved it.”
Billy sighed. “Come on, let’s go eat. Enough of this maudlin shit. You up for some Vietnamese food?”
“Sure. What about Momma?”
“The kids will bring her something. They usually come over Friday nights to hear her stories. I’ll drive.”
Fifteen minutes later, the pulled into a small strip mall and walked into a tiny restaurant at the end of the mall. As they walked in the door, silence fell over the restaurant until Anh’s younger sister Han came out from the back. She rushed quickly to Billy and hugged him, chiding him in Vietnamese for not coming in more often. Billy hugged her back and murmured something in Vietnamese that caused her to blush prettily. The volume of conversation picked back up and Billy introduced the old man, drawing a deep bow from Han and a welcome in Vietnamese.
The old man bowed back and from the back of his mind came the phrase, “Cảm ơn, Han.”
Han said something else in Vietnamese, and the old man replied, “I’m sorry Han, my Vietnamese is long gone. I can remember bia Làm ơn and Nhà vệ sinh/wc ở đâu? But that’s it.”
Han laughed and led them to a table in the back, asking if they would like a beer. Billy nodded and the old man figured why not, since he wasn’t driving. Han brought them two bottles of 33 beer and the old man burst out laughing. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen or thought of this since I left ‘Nam. Salut, Billy!”
Billy joined in the laugher and clinked glasses with the old man. “Yep, some things you never forget. And she has Mekong back there too!”
“Oh, hell no, Billy! I kinda remember the last time we got shitfaced on that. I hurt for three days.”
Han began bringing out food starting with pho and the conversation stopped until the last bits of mango were eaten. Both the old man and Billy were sweating and the old man figured he’d pay for it later, but he really enjoyed the meal. Rather than green tea, Han brought them cups of coffee to finish the meal, and the old man slumped back contentedly. “That was excellent! I’d forgotten how good Vietnamese food can be, once you get by the nuc mam. Can I at least buy supper?”
Billy shook his head. “Nope, that’s one of the reasons I don’t come in here a lot. They won’t let me or my guests pay. Damn hidebound people, they think they owe me something. They don’t realize Anh paid that debt years ago by marrying me to start with.”
“Can I at least leave a tip?”
“Nope, I tried that and they chased me down in the damn parking lot and made me take it back.”
Han came back and asked, “Is there anything else, gentlemen?”
The old man said, “Nothing but our thanks for an outstanding meal, Han, Cảm ơn”
Han nodded and replied, “Then please come back. You don’t have to bring him, but you are always welcome, Mr. Cronin.”
Billy motioned and they left quietly. Once outside the old man asked, “How the hell did she know who I am?”
Billy chuckled. “She’s heard stories from Anh and I guess from Momma and Poppa Trần. Must not have been the good stories, since she didn’t run screaming out the back door!”
The old man just shook his head. The drive back to the house was quiet, each lost in his own thoughts. Back at the house, Billy flipped the TV on to the news, and poured two shots of Macallan, handing one to the old man as they sat down.
Billy adjusted the volume and turned to the old man, “So, what time are you meeting with the oil people in the morning?”
The old man took an appreciative sip. “Nine o’clock. I should be done by noon at the latest.”
“You need me to go along? You know they want to screw you out of ev
ery dime they can.”
The old man thought for a minute. “Nah, this is just a lease extension. I don’t think I need your expertise unless they try to push me into a farmout or some crap like that. They sent me the preliminary paperwork last week, and I’ve bounced it against the last lease we signed twenty years ago. Only thing that is changing is the royalty goes from 1/8th to 1/6th on this lease. We’re still flowing about half the wells, and the company isn’t planning on cutting production any time soon. Jesse bitches about them not taking taxes out, but the way I look at it, that would just be one more way to backdoor us on the royalties.”
Billy replied, “Well, if you need me, I can get there in a half hour. Is there something else bothering you John?”
The old man took another drink and put the glass down. “Billy, I think I’m going to get sued for police brutality. We had a stop where a young female decided to fight and she got scratched up a bit. She blames me, and said quote, ‘I’m going to own you’, unquote.”
“Ouch. And you guys still don’t have cameras right?”
“My car doesn’t, but Trooper Wilson’s does. I’ve sent a request over for her tapes, but I’m not sure what, if anything, they will show. You know how we angle the cars, and she was behind me.” Getting up, the old man went to the spare bedroom and rooted in his bag, bringing back a copy of the arrest paperwork and pictures taken at intake and on release, along with copies of the VCR tapes from the suicide watch. He dropped them in Billy’s lap. “This is what I have. You know what’s funny? I didn’t even take her down. Wilson did that.”
Billy flipped through the paperwork quickly, then picked up a lined yellow pad sitting on the end table. “So witnesses are you, Wilson and Hart? What about the other kid in the car?”
The old man replied, “I don’t know how much he saw. I had Hart pull him out and take him back to his car.”
Billy asked, “Any idea who they might use to file the action?”
The old man replied, “Well, probably Hector Rodriquez, he was picked up as the local rep for this Antonio Moretti, who said he was the senior partner at Howland and Associates out of New York City.”
Billy whistled. “Somebody’s got money. Howland only plays with the big dollar types. They’ll probably file in Fort Stockton and then request a change of venue. Can’t have the locals that know you actually be the jury, ‘cause that wouldn’t go well for them. The question is will they try a COV to El Paso or Houston?” Billy scribbled some notes to himself, whistling quietly as he flipped back and forth through the file. “Okay, if they actually file, no discovery without me present. Any questions, any questions, referred to me, got it?”
The old man nodded. “Yeah, got it.”
“Now, what else is bothering you John? Honestly you look like shit.”
The old man sighed. “Billy, I’m thinking about going across the border and taking on the cartel. They’re going to try to hit me again, and some innocent people could die this time. I’m not sleeping and I’m turning into an asshole both at work and everywhere else. I’m just tired of dealing with it. It’s about time to force the issue once and for all!”
Billy set his glass down carefully and looked the old man in the eye, “You try that shit, and I will shoot your ass John! There is no fucking way this is your fault, and getting yourself killed isn’t going to help a damn thing! What would Jesse say if she heard you talking like this? Have you even told Jesse they tried to hit you? This isn’t the John Cronin I’ve known for thirty plus years.” Billy jumped up and started pacing the floor, “What’s got into you?”
The old man leaned back. “Billy, I missed all the cues last time, I survived that shoot out by sheer luck, nothing else. No, I haven’t told Jesse and don’t know if I should or not. And now Jesse and the others are coming for Christmas.” Tears rolled down his face as he continued, “I don’t want them to have another shot at Jesse, and I don’t want to see her hurt, much less Aaron, or Matt or any of the other folks that will be showing up. Dammit Billy, I can’t protect her!”
The old man leaned forward and put his head in his hands, as Billy stood there stunned. Billy finally regained his voice, “I think you’re both over estimating them and underestimating Jesse, Aaron, Matt and everyone else around you. And I’m not even going to get into how much you’re underestimating yourself! Dammit, John, I know what you’ve been through. I’ve seen you in action, and I know how good a man you are. This isn’t you. Fuck it, let’s get drunk and we’ll finish this conversation in the morning.”
Billy and the old man finished the bottle of scotch and staggered off to their respective bedrooms to sleep it off, and the old man actually slept through the night for a change.
On Leave
Jesse smiled as she saw Marines in MARPAT walking tiredly into the baggage area at LAX. She finally saw Aaron looked worn and in charge of the team, as he was mustering people and giving them the return dates. He hadn’t even looked around to see if she was there. It wasn’t until Mac pointed her out that Aaron even looked up from his wheel book.
When he did, he came quickly over and pulled Jesse into a hard embrace, mumbling over and over, “I missed you, Jesse. I love you.”
Jesse kissed Aaron and replied, “I love you, too, Aaron Miller, and you stink.”
Aaron said with a grin, “Well, let’s see you come out of the FOB, two flights, and then fly half way around the world in twenty hours with no shower and no sleep and see what you smell like. If you don’t like it, I can go back.”
Jesse grabbed him fiercely. “Like hell you will!” Then she pushed him away saying, “Go do what you need to and then we can drive home. I brought the truck just in case you needed to carry extra stuff back.”
Aaron grabbed her hand, and walked slowly back to the troops. “Anybody need a ride, or is everybody taken care of?”
A round of “I’m goods, nopes, and got it, Gunny” satisfied Aaron as the baggage from their flight started popping out of the baggage carousel. Amazingly, their bags were the first out and Jesse was shaking her head until an airline captain came over. “Gunny, all your folks get their bags, okay?”
Aaron turned. “Yes, sir, captain, appreciate your taking care of us. Semper Fi!”
The captain replied, “Semper Fi, Gunny. Y’all take care and enjoy your Christmas.”
The captain took a minute to shake hands with each of the Marines and with a wave, departed for the hotel. Once Aaron had confirmed everyone had bags in hand, he slung his backpack and put his other arm around Jesse. “Let’s get out of here. I want a steak, a shower, and you. Well, not necessarily in that order.”
Jesse arched a brow and looked at Aaron. “A shower, yes, but the others we night have to negotiate,” she said with a smile. Aaron blushed slightly as Jesse continued, “Since I’m still hobbling, I got a handicapped placard and I was lucky enough to find a space right across the street on this level of the parking garage.” As they stepped out of the baggage area Jesse asked, “What was the deal with the pilot in there?”
Aaron replied, “Turns out he saw us come in at BWI and he found out how many of us were on his flight. He talked to the baggage folks to make sure our bags were loaded last to be first off. He’s a former Marine fighter pilot in VMFA-232, and flew F-4s in Vietnam. Nice guy, and he made sure we all got fed on the airplane too!”
Jesse hugged Aaron. “I’m glad, because I was afraid you’d want to stop and eat on the way home.” Holding out the keys as they got to the truck, Jesse said, “You’ll probably have to move the seat and reset the mirrors, I kinda screwed up what you had, but it’s the only way I can drive it.”
Aaron popped the doors, got Jesse’s back rest situated and helped her into the cab, then flipped his backpack behind the driver’s seat. Climbing in, he looked around and grumbled, “Was there anything you didn’t touch?”
Jesse shrugged. “Sorry! As soon as I can drive my car, I’ll go get it, and you can have your truck back permanently.”
Aaron
leaned over. “Sorry, Jesse. I meant that as a joke. I’m tired. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.” Aaron got everything rearranged to his satisfaction, started the truck and headed out of the parking toward I-405.
Within a couple of miles, it was obvious Aaron’s anger was building and Jesse asked, “What’s wrong, Aaron?”
Aaron snapped, “These fucksticks won’t maintain the right interval, and every time I try to get interval, some asshole jumps in.”
Jesse said, “What are you talking about?”
Aaron said sheepishly, “Sorry, babe, it’s just that where we are, you don’t bunch up vehicles, you maintain interval to keep from losing more than one vehicle to an IED, and gives you options if you get ambushed. And I just realized I’m not there, I’m here.”
Jesse leaned over and squeezed his arm. “Aaron, you don’t have to apologize. I was just trying to figure out what was setting you off.”
Aaron replied, “I know, but getting my mind around being home is gonna take a few days. This time yesterday, I was on a patrol up on the border and figuring we’d be getting ambushed.”
After a quick shower, Aaron and Jesse went to dinner. Aaron got his steak, then they came back to the apartment. After he walked Boo Boo, Aaron admitted he was beat, so they headed for bed.
Aaron pulled Jesse into his arms and said, “I’ve been dreaming about this for the last three months.”
Jesse snuggled in and said, “Me too. This bed’s lonely without you.” She raised up and kissed him, and he returned the kiss passionately. They caressed each other, and made love slowly, until both were panting and blissfully satiated. Jesse fell asleep smiling as Aaron held her, a tear rolling down his cheek.