October 29, 2009, Minnesota
wo hours after leaving Art Revel’s townhome, a little after 9
T AM, Bell stared at the sad remnant of humanity to which Colonel Brewster had been reduced. Elise, his caregiver, had introduced Bell to Brewster, but he’d shown no reaction.
The colonel sat in a wheelchair, unmoving, his head tilted to the right and hanging down nearly to his chest. Elise had wiped the drool from his chin when they’d walked in, and now, less than two minutes later, she did it again.
“I’m so sorry you have to see him like this. He was the nicest man. But he hasn’t had a lucid day since just before that nice Sar-gent Walker came to visit him, a few months ago.”
Bell looked right at Brewster, and while the colonel didn’t so much as twitch a finger, she could swear he reacted when Elise said the name Walker.
At age 94, Colonel Jacob J Brewster was frail of body, and his mind wasn’t doing much better. He still had good days, when he could remember who he was and what he had done with his life.
Other days he just sat, stared, and drooled. That’s what his caregivers told him, on his lucid days, when he asked them about his bad days, and told them he wanted the truth, no matter what. So, they told him he was pretty much a mindless vegetable on his bad days, but they also said he was always kind to them, on good days and bad, and they’d be honest with him, even if it hurt.
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The thing is, on those bad days, there was a far, tiny corner of his mind that was still aware. From that corner he could see himself, sitting there. He would think, from that tiny piece of mental real estate, “Ok, I’ve been sitting here in one position long enough. Time to move, turn my head, look at something different. I could tell Elise thanks for wiping my chin. Ask her to turn the radio on. Give me a kiss. Do something, anything!”
Never was there a response, no matter how loud he hollered from that little corner. He couldn’t make a connection between that mental corner and the part of his mind that commanded his muscles to move. It was frustrating as hell. That tiny part of his mind was forced to sit and watch while the rest of it was gone fishin.’
He’d told the staff about that corner, that he could still hear what they said and still see their face if they parked it right in front of his eyes. He even repeated a few of the things he could remember they’d said to him, just to prove he wasn’t whistling Dixie.
He still had near-perfect eyesight, and the staff knew that when they found him wigged out, he really appreciated it if they turned him around in his wheelchair and rolled it up close to the window, positioned so he could stare out the front of the building and across the sidewalk, toward the little pond, where once in a while he could see a duck land or take off or swim. Movement, that’s what that little corner of his mind craved when the rest of it dozed off, the more movement, the better.
One day in 2008, while he sat staring at the duck pond from that tiny corner of his mind, Brewster found out what it took to wake up the rest of his mind. It took the ugly countenance of Sgt. Billy Walker.
Walker had arrived the day before for his usual triennial observation of Brewster, only to find a new family living in Brewster’s home. Walker watched the security company and found his old, bribable confident still employed there, so he followed him to the same bar as he had twenty-eight years earlier. God, he just loved people of habit! Only cost Walker four rounds of drinks to find out where the good colonel was.
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Brewster recognized Walker, though forty years had passed since last he’d seen him. He passed right in front of Brewster’s eyes as he walked to the front entrance. Brewster felt an electric jolt pass through his body. It brought his mind to the highest state of wake-fulness he’d experienced in five years. If he could file that short video image away in the tiny corner and play it back next time he zoned out… Ack, why think of next time? The ugly bastard had come to kill him. Now!
Think fast, that’s what he needed to do. Ha! Fat chance of that.
If he could wheel himself faster than he’d ever done in the past ten years, down to the dayroom, the staff would just find him, all excited that he had a visitor after all these years here alone. No, the dayroom was no place to hide.
Ah, what if he wheeled himself to another room, one with a comatose patient who wouldn’t make a fuss and give him away?
No, they’d still find him, and even if it took a while and his visitor left before they found him, it would only tip Walker off to the fact that Brewster was alert and recognized him, and knew enough to hide. No, better to hide right here, in the open. He’d done it often enough without trying. Now he just needed to fake it. Elise might even help him out by laying it on thick and heavy about how he zones out now and then.
He could hear Elise bringing the killer down the hall, saying how nice it was that an old military buddy had come to see him, but don’t be disappointed if he doesn’t seem to know you’re here, because he’s like that more and more. Way to go, Elise! Way to Go!
When Walker and Elise entered his room, they found the colonel in his wheelchair, in the same spot Elise had left him two hours ago.
“Jacob? Can you hear me, Jacob? You have a visitor, an old Army friend. Here, I’m just going to turn your chair around so you can see each other.”
Half of Brewster’s room went zooming past his eyes as Elise turned his chair, and then, there he was, Walker. His knees anyway.
Brewster made a point of not moving his eyes or making any other 282
move that would give him away.
“Here, Mr. Walker. I’ll just put this chair in front of him. If you sit at eye level there’s a better chance he’ll see you.” Elise moved the chair, and Walker sat on it. He looked Brewster right in the eye and spoke, cheerfully and loud.
“Hi Colonel Brewster. It’s me, Billy Walker. Remember me?”
Brewster didn’t move, not one muscle, nor twitch an eye, nor even close his mouth to lick up the drool. This was easy, so far.
Elise dabbed at his lower lip with a Kleenex. “Jacob, honey, can you hear? It’s Sgt. Walker, come to see you. Jacob?”
Addressing Walker now, Elise said, “I’m so sorry, he’s such a nice man, but he hasn’t had any lucid days at all since that last stroke, six months ago.”
What? Don’t overdo it, Elise.
“Elise, maybe you should leave me with him for a while. I’ll talk to the colonel about the old days; maybe it gets through to him, eh?”
“That’s a good idea. Oh, I’m so glad you came by Mr. Walker.
You go ahead and talk all you want. I’ll be at the station, end of the hall, if you need anything. Goodbye, Jacob. Have a good visit.”
Elise left, closing the door behind her, and Walker started in right away talking about ‘remember when we was in Germany together and the P.I. and other stuff that never happened, just as a show for Elise. Then he quit talking while he crept over to the door, pulled it open a crack, and peeked around, to be sure Elise had, in fact, left the immediate area.
Then he just took a stroll around the room, picked up some of Brewster’s stuff. He could hear him, but didn’t dare turn around. He made his way back to his chair and sat down, putting his face near Brewster’s, holding up Brewster’s prized old Zippo lighter in front of Brewster’s face. He flicked it open, thumbed the thumbwheel, and fired it up three times.
“Colonel, I bet you was gonna leave this to me in yer will.
Maybe I’ll jus take it with me when I leave today.”
He could have the damn lighter; didn’t like Walker’s mention 283
“So, you really as brain-dead as they want me to believe? Huh?
Anything at all goin’ on up there?” He reached out and thunked Brewster’s skull three times.” Brewster didn’t flinch. Walker leaned in and looked deep into Brewster’s eyes for several seconds. Then he took his finger and poked Brewster right in the eye, not hard, but still, a poke in the eye, and Brewster sat like a rock, no reaction.
Hm. That was kinda funny, though. Man gets poked in the eye, you’d expect some kind of involuntary reaction.
“Well well well. The great Colonel Brewster. It’s come down to this, has it?”
He jumped up and checked the hall again. Then he came over and put his face close again so he wouldn’t be heard in the hall. He drew a hunting knife from somewhere, showed it to Brewster, right in front of his eyes, then he pressed the flat of the blade against Brewster’s cheek, “Any time I want, asshole, I can jus reach out and snuff you, like the roach you are.” Brewster was proud of himself, not moving his eyes toward the knife, not giving himself away.
Walker put the knife away.
“You never knowed it Colonel, but I kept an eye on you, once I got otta the slam. You remember that, don’t you? Gettin’ me sent to jail? Cudda got you any time, there in your house with the fence and the gate, jus didn’t want the complications. Got the rest of ‘em though. Them what turned against me, that bastard prosecutor, n Sandy.
“Knew there’d come a day like this. I tell you what though, when I kill you, I don’t want it should look like I did, you know?
So, I’m gonna figure out how I want to do that. Then I’ll come back.
Hope I catch you on one-a them days when you can recognize me.
That’d be just the best, you know? You knowin’ jus b’for ya go it was me put you down.”
Walker stayed with Brewster for nearly an hour, seeming appreciative of having someone to talk to, telling him how he’d gotten even with each of those who’d wronged him, even some ideas he had for Brewster. He talked about Peterson and Holling, how he’d 284
been justified getting rid of them, just protecting his enterprise, and they shouldn’t have expected anything less from him.
He unburdened himself regarding his failure to get Hardson, said Hardson was really the brains behind that little enterprise in Nam, and Hardson was the one Walker now wanted most, because he got clean away.
Then he just walked out, giving Brewster three more goodbye thunks on top of his head. Still had his lighter, too.
Brewster didn’t know if Walker could see into his room from the front sidewalk, but he stayed in position a good five minutes to give him time to clear out. When he decided it was safe to move, he spun his chair around to look out the window, and… But something was wrong, his view didn’t change. He shook his arm muscles out a bit and rotated his head to get out the kinks. Then he moved the right wheel backward again. Should’ve seen movement, but there wasn’t any. He’d just begun trying to puzzle that out when Elise walked in.
“Hey Jacob, did you have a good time talking to Sgt. Walker?
He was here a long time. I so hoped he could-a said something to rouse you.”
Yeah, wait until you hear what he said to me Elise, you aren’t gonna bel…
“But he said you just sat there the whole time and didn’t move.”
Well, duh, the guy wants to kill me, and it’s not like you to interrupt me when…
“Oh Jacob, I feel so bad for you. I wish you could come back, just once more.”
Elise? Elise, what’s going on?
“Well, Jacob, I’ll get you turned around so you can see the pond again. There. How’s that?”
Better. I was trying to do it myself when yo…
“You watch the pond ok, Jacob? I’ll be back in an hour with supper, k?”
When Elise left, he sat there in his chair, thinking.
Well what the hell? WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!
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Standing with Elise, looking at Brewster now, Bell wondered if she had sensed mental movement in Brewster. She’d already tried to connect with his mind, as she had with others, but it was like shouting into a large void that sucked the volume out of her effort.
When Elise left the room, Bell said the name Walker twice to gauge Brewster’s reaction, and she felt it again, a mental flinching.
She tried two more times. It felt like trying to remember someone’s name, picturing the person, having the name tantalizingly close, but just out of reach, and the harder you try the more difficult it becomes.
C’mon, Bell! Try harder! I’m right here! I’m…
“Help me out here, Jacob,” she said aloud. “I have a unique talent. I’ve always been able to touch another mind, if I really need to badly enough. It’s not working with you. Yet I can tell you’re there, just out of range or… I just don’t know…”
She turned and walked toward the door, thinking.
No! No! Don’t leave! I’m here! Look harder!
“I wasn’t leaving,” she said, turning around. “I was just… Wait a minute. Did you just say something?”
Damn straight I did! Whoopee! You’re almost there, honey!
Keep a look’n!
“Ach, it’s just no use. I can’t reach you, Jacob.”
Yes, you can! Don’t quit! Just a little fu…
“I met the man you knew as Walker. As evil a man as I’ve ever known. I crushed him, Jacob. He’ll never be able to hurt you. He won’t even remember you.”
Oh, well, that’s a load off my mind, such as it is…
She dragged a chair in front of him and sat down.
“There, now we’re eye to eye, Jacob.”
Cowabunga! If I were thirty years younger, honey…
“The thing is, Jacob, there’s something out there that makes Walker look like a boy scout. I think it’s my job to deal with it.
Because if it weren’t for me, it wouldn’t have come here. Well, 286
maybe it would have. It’s confusing. I think it’s my problem because I’m the only one who knows. I’m confronting it. That’s settled. It may be the last thing I ever do. Doesn’t matter. I feel I was brought into being to confront this, and if I go out doing it, that’ll suit me just fine. It’s like a circle closing. We’ll go out together, it, and me. We’ll leave the world a better place.”
Wish I knew what the heck you were talk’n bout honey. I don’t like the sound of it though. If there were a way I could help…
“I thought you could help me Jacob. Rummaging around in Walker’s mind, I came across another name. Someone else who served with you. He seems connected to the thing I must deal with.
Walker looked for years, couldn’t find him. His name is Hardson…’
“ HARDSON !!!”
“WHOA…” Bell recoiled so violently she knocked her chair over backward. She tucked her head toward her chest as she completed a backward somersault, finishing on her hands and knees, facing Brewster from eight feet away. She didn’t dare move. She could still see the neural pathway that had snaked its way out from a tiny corner of his mind with a burst of anger and loathing at the mention of that name. It lost form every second. She concentrated.
A mental sprint to follow the steadily dimming pathway through convoluted twists and turns, until at last she rounded a corner, and there he was. She had him.
“Jacob? Is that you?”
“Bell! As I live and breathe, I thought for a minute there you’d given up on me.”
“I don’t give up.”
“Wow. I just got the feeling… Don’t take this the wrong way.
The feeling you’re a whole lot older than you look.”
“That’s possible. Mind to mind, like this, you may see more of what I am, a combination of me and the endowment I was given, the abilities I have.”
“Yes, Yes, I can. Oh, it’s beautiful Bell. Beauty, inside and out.
To think I lived to see this! If there is an eternity, I will be eternally grateful for this moment.”
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“I need to ask you about him, Jacob. Do you know where he is, Hardson?”
“In a word, Alaska.”
“Ah. Blizzard, mind-numbing cold. That fits. What’s he doing there? Do you know?”
“This info’s quite a few years old. I’m not sure why, but I figured I should keep tabs on his whereabouts. I asked men I knew to keep me advised on his movements. He hated Greenland, hated the cold. But it seems he got accustomed to it. He went to Alaska from Greenland. Moved around a bit. Learned to fly, got ‘im a license and a bush plane. High wing tail dragger. Last I heard, he’d moved into a decommissioned radar site up on the North Slope, above the Arctic Circle. Cape Lisburne. No idea what he does for money.
Could be living on his pension, if his needs are simple enough.
There’s a runway. He could fly out for supplies.”
“Great. That’s what I needed. Know how I can get up there?”
“Don’t know why you’d want to. There’s regular service to Kotzebue, an Eskimo village about 100 miles south. You could charter a plane from there to Liz.”
“Ok, Jacob. Thanks a million. I gotta run. If it’s ok with you, I’m gonna try to take a more direct route out of here, and I’ll leave a trail. Maybe it helps you. I’m not sure. You game?”
“Are you kidding? This is the best day I’ve had in ten years.
You can do anything you want while you’re in here. But listen. You be careful where you’re goin.’ And good luck. Sump’n tells me you’re going to need a lot of it.”
“I will Jacob. Bye”
When Elise came back, Bell had just finished withdrawing from Brewster’s mind, and righting her chair. As Elise walked up beside her, Bell said, “Jacob, can you hear me, Jacob?”
At first, he didn’t move. After a few seconds, he began lifting his head up off his chest, and Elise grasped Bell’s hand. He finished straightening his head and lifted his own arm to wipe his own chin with his sleeve. Then he smiled wide, and focused his eyes, for the last time, on the two women standing in front of him.
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“Elise. Bell,” he said. “Oh, what a wonderful way to go.”
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