Chapter 24 - The Call Sign
At seventy five, my granddaughter Rachel interviewed me for college project about identity.
“Grandpa, what name do you think of as you?”
“Ethan.”
“Not Dad?”
“That’s role.”
“Harrier?”
“No.”
She laughed.
Then:
“Was there time?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“Life.”
Then she asked:
“Do you think being Ranger made you save Mom?”
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“I found her because I came home early.”
“Training helped?”
“Yes. I noticed scene details and didn’t touch more than necessary.”
“Then?”
“The people who saved her were paramedics, doctors, investigators, and Violet herself.”
Then:
“What did you do?”
“Stayed.”
She wrote.
I liked.
Then:
“Why are stories online all about revenge?”
“Because revenge has clearer shape than recovery.”
“Did you want revenge?”
“Yes.”
“Did you do?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because wanting is not instruction.”
She looked up.
That became line in project.
Then:
“Was police detective corrupt?”
“Aaron Cole committed obstruction to protect brother. He was convicted. That doesn't mean every officer at scene was corrupt.”
“Megan?”
“Did job.”
Then:
“Was Mason evil?”
“He committed serious crimes.”
“Not answer.”
I thought.
“No. I don't use evil as complete explanation.”
“Why?”
“Because if only evil people hurt us, we can stop watching ordinary choices.”
She stared.
College student impressed or bored.
Then:
“What about Grandma Violet?”
“She’s your mom.”
“Grandma Violet? Wait Rachel is granddaughter, Violet is her mother, so she wouldn't call Grandma. Sorry. Let's adjust. She asked:
“What about Mom?”
“She was sixteen and brave.”
“Did bravery save?”
“Partly. Recording helped. But she was also allowed to be scared.”
Then Rachel:
“She hates when people call her brave.”
“I know.”
Then:
“What word?”
“Alive.”
Violet, now fifty? Wait at Ethan75, 34 years after start, Violet50. Yes. She walked into room carrying coffee.
“Are you making me documentary?”
Rachel:
“Grandpa’s being dramatic.”
Violet:
“Standard.”
Then she saw ring on table.
“You still have that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Waiting for someone who wants.”
Rachel:
“I want.”
Violet:
“No.”
Rachel:
“I’m twenty.”
Violet:
“Still no.”
I laughed.
“It's mine. I decide.”
Both stopped.
Then we all laughed.
No became joke because no was safe.
Then I decided ring would go to veterans museum? Maybe no. I gave to Rachel eventually? She wanted. But it might carry weird. I kept until death/estate. Let's say I wrote in will: Rachel can have ring if she still wants; otherwise donate to unit association.
Transparent.
No surprise.
Then estate.
Laura and I had wills.
Violet knew.
No secrets.
No hidden keys.
No tapes.
No Kestrel.
The story had become family history, not active threat.
Then at seventy six, I returned to Maple Drive neighborhood? No need.
I drove past once.
Children chalk on driveway.
Door closed.
I smiled.
May you like
No alarm check.
Progress.
