“Got some news today,” said Joe.
“Oh?” Mary studied her husband’s face, trying to guess: good or bad? “Didn’t know the shop was open on Christmas Eve.”
There was only one matter up in the air, and that was where they were to be stationed next. So far his career had taken them to Baltimore, Richmond, and, for the past two years, Bangkok, where Joe worked on an antipiracy task force with the Thai police. She knew that he desperately wanted to be sent to Headquarters FBI in Washington, D.C., to head up the legate program. For a boy from the South End, running the Bureau’s network of liaison agents, or legates assigned to foreign embassies, was as far from Boston as you could get, Bangkok notwithstanding.
“Sacramento,” he said finally, breaking a crooked grin.
Mary swallowed. Sacramento was a backwater. It was not the Christmas present either of them wanted. She did her best not to scream. “How long?”
“Two.”
“Two years? And then D.C.?”
“Heck, yeah,” he said with feigned optimism. “They can’t keep me away forever.”
Mary smiled back at him. She knew he was crushed, far more disappointed than she could ever be. “Bring it,” she said. Then an afterthought: “Sacramento have a hoops team?”
“The Kings. They suck.”
“Then the seats’ll be cheap. We’ll get down close for the Celtics.”
“That’s my girl.” Joe smiled harder, and she saw a glint of something in his eye.
“Come on, let’s go. We don’t want to miss the big moment.”
Ahead, twenty or so guests had formed a loose circle at water’s edge. Most had already assembled their lanterns and stood holding the large white frames, anxious to be given the go-ahead to light them.
“You guys doing okay?” Mary asked.
“Jessie already finished,” said Grace.
“It was simple,” said Jessie, holding hers up for examination.
The lanterns were tall rectangular boxes fashioned from oiled rice paper. It was necessary to insert bamboo struts into each corner to expand them to their full height. A strut wide enough to support the candle held the bottom open. Once the candle was lit, hot air rose and was trapped inside the paper until enough accumulated to lift the lantern into the air.
“Let me help, mouse,” said Mary.
Grace surrendered her lantern, and Mary quickly realized that the task was harder than she’d expected.
“Mom, let me do it.” Jessie took Grace’s lantern and had it finished in a jif. “You want me to do yours and Dad’s, too?”
“We’ll be fine,” said Joe.
The hotel manager waved his arms and called the guests to attention. “It’s time,” he said. “Please light your candles.”
The sky had darkened considerably in the past few minutes. An azure belt stretched across the horizon. A multitude of stars danced overhead. Jessie struck a match and one by one lit the candles. The four stood facing one another, arms outstretched, fingertips cradling the lanterns.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the hotel manager. “I wish you all a Merry Christmas.”
Behind them, a cry went up as someone released the first lantern. All eyes turned to the masked light as it crept into the sky. Another lantern joined it, and then another, and soon a dozen pale lights were floating upward, a timid band of souls ascending to heaven.
“Now?” asked Jessie.
Joe looked at Mary. She nodded. “Now,” he said.
They released their lanterns simultaneously. For a moment the translucent boxes hung before their eyes, neither rising nor falling, and Mary bit her lip, hoping that they hadn’t let go too soon. But then each began a steady, twirling ascent into the sky.
“Go,” said Jessie.
“Away,” said Grace.
A hush fell over the assembled guests. No one spoke. The only noise was the rhythmic brush of the ocean across the sand. Mary took Joe’s hand. He grasped Jessie’s, and she took Grace’s. Grace grinned and took her mother’s. They were connected. One circle. One family.
Mary thought, This is everything I ever wanted. And, How did I get so lucky? And, Please, God, I don’t want this moment to end.
They held hands as the lanterns floated higher into the sky, ever farther out to sea, and the flickering lights grew dimmer, until one by one they blinked a last time and were gone.
Somewhere close, a firecracker exploded. And then another. The sharp noises broke their trance. All at once the beach came back to life. Men and women hooted and cheered and shouted “Merry Christmas!” Everywhere there was activity and merriment.
Mary looked at her family, but no one said a word. It was as if they all were transfixed, or, as she came to believe later, after so much had come to pass, that in some indefinable way they knew that this was the last time they would share such a moment. That the world as they knew it was coming to an end, and that somewhere over the horizon a shadow lurked, and it was coming their way.
“Merry Christmas,” said Mary.
“Merry Christmas, Mommy,” said Grace.
“Love you,” said Jessie.
“Love you,” said Joe. “All my girls.”
The last lantern disappeared from view. Finally they dropped hands.
It was magic.
Monday
1
“Felix will be there in ten.”
“All clear?”
“Nothing out here but tumbleweeds and horseshit.”
“Welcome to Texas.”
Special Agent Joe Grant of the Federal Bureau of Investigation stared out the window of the Chevrolet Tahoe. The ground was barren, scrub sprouting here and there out of the dirt. Across the yard stood an old windmill, the kind with the tiller and the spoked wheel. Farther down the road he spied a telephone pole strung with wires. Beneath it sat the rusted carcass of an ancient tractor. He sighed. The place had probably looked the same in 1933.
“Stay back a ways once he pulls in. Don’t want to spook him.”
“Now you’re even talking like a cowboy,” said Fergus Keefe, a supervisory special agent from the Cyber Investigations Division and his colead on the case. “That ought to go over big in D.C.”
“Ain’t there yet.”
“If half of what Felix says is true, this is your ticket to the show.”
“I’ll believe it when I’m holding the plane ticket in my hand.”
Sacramento’s the last stop, they’d promised him. You’ll get to D.C. straight after that. But that was before Semaphore came around. Semaphore threw a wrench into everything. If he wasn’t so good at his job, Joe thought, he’d be in Washington right now, looking at the dome of the Capitol Building and giving briefings on the Hill. Instead he was parked in the questionable shade of a cedar tree on an abandoned cattle ranch smack dab in the middle of Texas Hill Country. D.C. might as well be on the far side of the moon.
“Felix is turning onto RR 3410,” said Keefe.
“Roger that. Wait right there. He sees that dust behind him, there’s no telling what he’ll do. He’s nervous enough as it is.”
“Felix” was the confidential informant’s code name. For Felix Unger, the OCD half of the Odd Couple.
“I’m pulling over,” said Keefe. “He’s all yours. And don’t take any chances.”
“You think he’s packing? Felix? A PhD from MIT? The guy’s annual 401(k) contribution is bigger than my entire salary.”