He found the one he was looking for, on a corner. It had a large backyard and the grass was neatly cut. The house looked well maintained, but didn’t look occupied.
Puller walked around the perimeter of the property until he reached the rear yard. He came to a spot pretty much in the center of the yard and thought back to that day.
He’d been outside playing. A ball and a glove.
His brother had been somewhere else, probably at the library reading a book.
His father was, as usual, gone.
So he’d been playing catch with himself. He had spent a lot of time by himself. His brother was intellectually advanced far beyond his age. He liked to think, not throw balls.
He turned and looked at the window in the middle of the rear of the house. That was his parents’ bathroom.
That was where the face was. His mother’s.
He squinted because he was facing east and the sun was coming up.
In the crevice of his eyes he could see her smiling at him. The towel wrapped around her head. The contented look on her face.
But was she content?
Where had she gone that night? When she believed her husband would not be home?
The answer hit him like a Ka-Bar in the gut. Another man?
He took pictures of everything he was looking at.
He heard the voice as soon as he snapped the last frame.
“Hello?”
Puller turned to see a man staring at him from the corner of the yard. He didn’t like it that someone could get that close to him and he not be aware of it.
The man was about five-ten. He looked to be in his late seventies and his upper torso was thickened, but he was still in decent shape. His hair was white and thinning on top, his mustache more salt-and-pepper. He was dressed in khakis, loafers, and an Army green windbreaker.
Puller walked over to him and the face came more into focus. And then it clicked.
“Mr. Demirjian?”
Stan Demirjian came forward, but he didn’t have the same level of recognition on his features.
Then it hit him. “My God. Are you one of the Puller boys?”
“John.”
The men shook hands.
Demirjian said, “You look like your daddy. But you’re even taller.”
“You still look combat ready.”
The man laughed. “As if.” Then he stopped laughing and his features became somber. “I guess they told you.”
“It’s why I’m here.”
“I can understand that. I drove over this morning just to have a look around at the old place. Never thought they’d shutter Fort Monroe. Not with all the history and everything. Captain John Smith discovered the place. Point Comfort. First slaves came through here, you know, traded for damn supplies Dutch skippers needed.”
“But even DoD needs to get with the times and save money,” Puller pointed out.
“Yes, they do. We lived here on post housing. Took about a year to get.”
“Right.”
Demirjian took on a wistful expression, as though he were peering deeply into the past. “Monroe was where the big dogs lived. One- and two-stars didn’t even have entourages like at other installations. Walked the streets by themselves. A hundred full colonels here when most posts were lucky to have a dozen.”
“It was special in that way.”
“But your daddy didn’t need no entourage. Man was a damn load to handle all by himself.”
“I wouldn’t dispute that.”
The two men stared uncomfortably at each other.
Demirjian blurted out, “Look, I just want you to know right off that I don’t agree with Lynda. But she was insistent. And she’s…”
“I know about her medical condition and I’m very sorry. I only have really good memories of her from our time here. She’s a fine lady. And I hold nothing against her.”
“That’s real nice of you to say, John. Lynda’s been a wonderful wife and mother and grandmother. But she just wouldn’t let this go.”
“When did it start?”
“About three months ago. Out of the blue. We’d just moved her into a facility to help her…needs.”
“And she just started talking about my mother and father?”
“You have to understand, John…” He paused. “Heard you were in the Army too.”
“CWO, 701st MP Group out of Quantico.”
“That’s an elite group,” said Demirjian. “You get nominated for that group, not selected.”
“Yes sir.”
The older man waved off this form of address. “I never got the sir when I was in uniform because I wasn’t an officer. And I sure don’t deserve it now, Chief Puller.”
“You were a top-notch SFC. Dad always said so. And as you know, he was a tough man to please. And call me John.”
Demirjian looked around. “I remember coming over and barbecuing in this backyard. You and your brother running around playing Army soldiers. It was in your blood.”
“You were a good friend to Dad. And to us.”
“I would have run through a wall for your father, John. Hell, I did run through a wall for him. A wall of ground fire, mortar rounds, even napalm dropped by our fly guys. Happened about five times a day in ’Nam. And your daddy was right there beside me every time. And he was already a lieutenant colonel at that point. He didn’t have to be running with the grunts like that.” He rubbed his chin and continued. “When he got his second star they made him commander of the 101st. Best leader the Screaming Eagles ever had in my humble opinion. Then he got his corps command when they pinned on the third star.”
“Helluva career,” said Puller. He felt a bit awkward, unsure where this trip through his father’s past was supposed to lead.
Demirjian looked down at his shoes for a few moments. “I have no idea what set off the notion in Lynda’s head about all this. She was moved to the hospice part of the facility a month ago. That’s when she told me she wanted to let the authorities know about this. That about gave me a heart attack. I begged her to just drop it. Thirty years ago? Who would remember anything? And your father and the way he is? Not able to really defend himself?”
“So you know about that?”
Demirjian stared over at Puller, his features crumbling. “I visited him up where he is now.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Puller.
“This was about a year ago. He wasn’t himself anymore. But he remembered me. He remembered some of the old days.”
“He did back then. Not so much anymore.”
Demirjian shook his head. “I’m one tough son of a bitch and I left that place bawling my eyes out. To see your daddy like that…”
Puller didn’t say anything. He let Demirjian regain his composure, rub at his moistened eyes, and then continue.
“But Lynda wouldn’t let it go. If I didn’t help her she’d just get someone else to do it. That’s what she said. Well, I figured that it would be better coming from my hand, so to speak.” He glanced up at Puller. “Did they show you the letter?”
“They did.”
“Well, I softened the tone a lot. I’m sure it still shocked the hell out of you, but her words, well, they were far harsher than what I wrote in that letter. Part of me felt like I was betraying my wife for doing that.”
“It would be an awkward situation for anyone, Mr. Demirjian, and especially so for you. I wouldn’t want to be in that spot.”
“I don’t want you to believe for one second that I agree with my wife on this, because I don’t. But she’s dying, John, and this was so important to her. I didn’t want to open a can of worms for your daddy. He’s the last man on earth I’d ever want to hurt. But like I said, if I didn’t do it, Lynda would have found someone else.”
“I understand.” Puller paused and considered carefully his next words. “Do you think it would be possible for me to talk to her?”
“I thought you might ask that.”
“I don’t want to do it if it will upset her. I mean that.”