No Pit So Deep: The Cody Musket Story

by James Nathaniel Miller II

  “Roger that,” Cody said. After handshakes and hugs all around, the two guest couples left the room.

  Sly and Julia had decided to leave their son in the room since both toddlers were snug asleep on the foldout bed. Cody followed them down the hall a few feet to ask if they would keep Knoxi the next morning after breakfast so that he and Brandi could talk. They agreed.

  When Cody reappeared, Brandi had his phone. “Sweetie, you must have ten text messages here. They are from two different people — Chavez and Sabre.”

  “Don’t worry about reading my text messages.” He grumbled as he took the phone back from her. “Let’s just get some rest. I’m wrecked.”

  “I’m a big girl, Cody. I’m guessing these are people you served with, right? And they want to help?”

  “They want to get involved if I say the word.” Cody took a deep breath. “When I disappeared before the news conference yesterday, I went to call them. That’s why I was AWOL.”

  “Involved? How involved? You mean like bodyguards?”

  “Maybe.”

  Brandi glanced at the two toddlers asleep on the foldout. “Do you sometimes wish you could go back to their age and start over? Don’t you wish we could’ve met under other circumstances?”

  “We don’t get to choose the circumstances.” He sat down on the sofa. “We can only choose where we go from here.” Cody stared at the floor.

  She waited a moment, then sat next to him and changed the subject.

  “I enjoyed meeting Dawg and Silver. They love you. What’s their story? What’s your history with them?” She rubbed his right shoulder and hoped he would raise his head.

  “Our freshman year in college, Dawg and I were thrown together as roommates. He had been one of the top three high school basketball stars in America, so there was lots of pressure. I was just an unknown scholarship athlete. We ran in different circles and played different sports — not much in common."

  Brandi got up, walked to the entry, and turned the knob to soften the lights. “I’m listening, Babe. Keep talking.”

  It was the first time she had addressed him with his military call sign. He lifted his head.

  “Midway through the first semester his mom died. She had raised him by herself and worked three jobs to support her family. It hit him hard. Then he tore an ACL in his first game. Several months later, the knee hadn’t healed as fast as expected and he got depressed. His grades dropped. I helped him study. We became friends.”

  Brandi seated herself on the recliner across the table from him. She placed her white tennis shoes next to the chair and removed her knee socks, which she had worn to hide the still painful burns and abrasions.

  Cody continued, “When summer came, he called me from New Orleans so depressed that he wanted to end his life. He was drunk. His girlfriend had left him. His knee still hurt. Somehow, he believed he would never play basketball again.”

  “Wow. Hard to believe it’s the same guy I met tonight.” She reclined and raised the footrest. Her left foot, both ankles, knees, and shins were inflamed.

  Cody stood, moved to the front of her recliner and sat on the edge of the coffee table.

  “How do you walk without limping? That’s gotta hurt. Your skin looks gross. You gotta stop wearin’ the tennis shoes. You got any more of that Blue stuff.”

  She creaked out a hoarse response. “Blue Tech? In my purse. Didn’t want to wear the flip-flops to the game cuz my feet looked so bad.”

  He reached for her purse and dumped the contents onto the table.

  “Cody, don’t you know you should ask a girl to open her own purse and let her get what you need?”

  “Been awhile since I spent much time with a girl. Guess I’m outta practice.”

  He retrieved a wet towel from the kitchen, soothed her injuries, and began applying the balm to the inflamed area.

  “Oh, Cody.” Her eyes were so heavy she couldn’t hold them open.

  “This is gettin’ to be a habit.” He grinned.

  “And this is for my security, of course, right?” She yawned. “You’re gonna put me to sleep.”

  “That’s okay. It’s late.”

  “But I wanna hear the rest of the story about Dawg and Silver first.”

  “Well, Dawg read me his suicide note. It was nothin’ more than a list of failures — stuff he figured he’d never achieve cuz he wasn’t smart enough. First item on the list was to marry a woman as great as his mom. He thought he had found her, but she had just dumped him.”

  Brandi’s eyes were shut. Should he go on? Was she still listening?

  He dropped his volume. “I reminded him that he was gifted, smart, but several former high school teachers had told him he was dumb and would never amount to a thing if he couldn’t play basketball. The only dumb thing he did was to believe ‘em.”

  She opened her eyes. “What did you tell him?”

  “I asked him what his mother would say. He said his mom would tell him he could be as smart as he wanted to be. So I suggested we keep his list, but change it from a suicide note to a list of goals to accomplish.”

  “How did he respond?”

  “I wasn’t very good at praying in those days, but I prayed a short prayer for him over the phone."

  “Long-distance prayer?”

  “Right. Next semester, he was back in school and he met Silver. After she came his way, the rest of the goals on the list were a piece o’ cake.”

  “What an answer to prayer. Cody, if you —”

  “The next year, I met Hanna Kyle. We were sophomores. We fell in love, and I asked her to marry me. But one night, a month before the wedding, she went to sleep in her dorm room and never woke up — some sort of congenital heart thing.”

  Brandi lowered the footrest and leaned toward him on the arm of the chair.

  “I had no parents by then. After I lost Hanna, I didn’t have anybody. I hit a low. I planned to drop out o’ school. I shut myself off and wouldn’t let anyone in the dorm room. But Dawg removed…” He paused, chuckled and took a long breath.

  “Cody? What did Dawg remove?”

  “Dawg removed the hinges from my door and carried me outside. I didn’t have the heart to resist. When he got me to his car, Silver was waiting. I hardly knew her then, but she talked to me like an older sister, scolding and loving me at the same time.”

  "Oh, Cody. Sweet. Hand me that box of tissue."

  He handed her the box. “They lived off campus. Invited me to move in with ‘em. With Silver pushing us both, Dawg became an Academic All-American, and I graduated early and became a US Marine.”

  Brandi blotted her eyes. “I’ve seen Silver’s face on some magazine covers.”

  “Silver is a scrapper, a fighter, grew up in theprojects of West Dallas, lost a brother to a gunfight. She earned a basketball scholarship to Baylor, went to grad school, became a financial genius.She’s turned Dawg’s capital investments into hundreds of millions.”

  “I didn’t know about Hanna. She must have been amazing.”

  Cody picked Brandi up, cradled her, and carried her back toward the sofa, his forearms so gentle she scarcely felt them. Eyes closed, she was a princess carried on a cloud.

  He eased her onto the sofa and knelt beside her, placed a pillow at one end of the couch and motioned for her to lay her head down. She melted into the perfect cushion, soft and light, luxuriously deep.

  Cody placed his hand on her forehead and said a prayer. In ten seconds, she was motionless again. He walked to the entry and further dimmed the lights.

  As he tiptoed toward the door to the adjacent room, Brandi’s shallow voice called, “Good night, man of steel.”

  When he turned around and their eyes met, she rolled onto her side and faced him. A sudden adrenaline rush had her pulse racing. After a momentary pause, Cody nodded, backed away, and left the room. She breathed a deep sigh of relief — and disappointment.

  She lay on her back again, closed her eyes, and scolded herself. Don’t
complain. He’s exactly what you prayed for.

  Then she stood up and stepped over to the closet. Exhausted, she changed into her blue ”I Love The Son” pullover shirt and dropped the rest of her clothes into the closet floor. Two bloodshot eyes stared back at her in the mirror.

  She grinned at her reflection and whispered. “Yes, Cody, I will marry you.” Brandi cocked her head. “Uh, of course, I’ll marry you, man of steel.” Next, she turned up the volume. “Just say the word, Babe, and I’m yours.” She placed her hands on her hips and rotated them. “Well, it’s about time, Cody Musket. Marry me when? Tonight?”

  “What did you say?” Cody had reappeared.

  Brandi jumped. She clutched her heart to keep it inside her chest, then scooted over to the refrigerator and opened the door.

  “Oh! Cody, you scared me. I, uh, was just getting some water.” She pulled a cold bottle from the fridge and shut the door.

  “Didn’t mean to walk in on you. Thought I heard my name.”

  Her face, pale when he had set her on the couch earlier, now blushed like a favored rose.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve seen you in that pullover before.”

  He left again and closed the door. She scurried back to the mirror, pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, and watched herself giggle until she hiccupped.

  After drowning her hiccups with the contents of the bottle, she gathered up the extra pillows in the room, threw them onto the king bed, and burrowed into them.

  In the other room, Cody collapsed into the middle of his bed.

  Brandi’s tenderness and the prayer he had prayed over her stayed with him. His sleep was sound. This time, the nightmares stayed away.

  The Long Tunnel

  On Wednesday morning, it was checkout day for coaches, players and fans. In two days, the baseball regular season would continue.

  A security team escorted Cody and Brandi to breakfast at a second-floor coffee shop. Tanner and Julia met them there and took Knoxi with them, as planned, when breakfast was finished.

  After they returned to their suite, Brandi went to change in the bathroom but stayed for thirty minutes. Cody decided to lie down on the couch and shut his eyes.

  When Brandi finally returned wearing cutoffs and a Pirates game jersey, she was tight and nervy.

  Cody sat up. “What’s wrong?” Butterflies whiffled inside his gut.

  Brandi sat down next to him. “I just got off the phone with Vic at the Gazette. Dupree’s wrists had been tied.”

  “So it was murder,” Cody said. “But I guess we already knew that.”

  “He also said the Houston mayor is trying to make trouble for you.”

  “Trouble? What kind?”

  “He texted me a USA Today headline that quotes Mayor Leonard Beeker saying that he questions your medals and says you aren’t coming clean. Do you know him?”

  “I’ve met him,” he muttered. “He’s a Nam vet, seventy something, a popular ol’ guy, but he always looks at me sideways.”

  “Do people take him seriously?”

  He walked to the sink and ran the water to splash his face. “I dunno where Beeker gets his information, but I’m not ready for anything to come out in the press. I just want it to go away.”

  “So now what?”

  “We get your stuff out of your apartment in Pittsburgh tonight like we planned and then fly to Houston tomorrow. Derek’s arrangin’ a charter.”

  “Is it too dangerous to go to Pittsburgh? I mean if Dupree was —”

  “I don’t know if Pittsburgh is more dangerous than anywhere else. How large is the trafficking syndicate? Does the location make any difference?” He snatched a towel, dried his hands and face. “All that evidence you’ve collected. Just need to get in and out quick — hit-n-run.”

  “Why don’t we alert police or the Sheriff? They could provide protection again.”

  “I got a better idea. Derek can leak a story that we’re headed to Houston tonight. What if there’s a mole in Pittsburgh? Can’t take a chance. No one but your parents should know we’re coming.”

  “Now you sound like Sly.”

  Cody tossed the paper towel into the trash and then stood motionless, staring at the floor. Brandi stiffened her back.

  “I’ve never been so scared,” she said. “I’m used to being in control. Right now, everything is spinning apart.”

  He took two steps toward her and stopped. "Before I say anything else, you should know that I didn’t bring you here just for your security. There were…there were other reasons.”

  Brandi managed a chuckle. “Ha! Did you honestly think I didn’t know that?” She wanted to pursue the subject, but other things were pressing.

  They sat in quiet reflection for a few moments, and then Brandi broke the silence.

  "Cody, what could Beeker say that would be damaging? Why would he want to hurt you?"

  He came and sat with her on the sofa. “I didn’t want to tell you, but it’s time.” He pulled in another deep breath. “What you’re gonna hear isn’t the account written by generals and historians.” He leaned forward, hands on knees, staring at the carpet in front of him.

  Brandi’s thumping heart made her bruised neck throb.

  “I told you the story before, but I left some things out. When the seven Taliban showed up at the crash, they had five young boys with ‘em.”

  She caught her breath. Cody stood up and moved to the window and gazed at a passing cloud. “They singled out one little kid. They made him —” He turned around to face her and threw his hands into the air but did not finish his sentence.

  “Made him do what, Cody? What did they make him do?”

  “They made him shoot Harry.”

  Brandi didn’t make a sound as Cody told her of the decision to leave the other four boys tied up. “We planned to go back and get them in a few hours.”

  He turned back toward the window and gazed at the rooftops across the street. “Those kids begged me to take them along.” He shook his head. “If only I had.”

  He looked straight down at the street twenty floors below and placed both hands on the windowsill. “For four years, I’ve —”

  He dropped his shoulders and shook with emotion but recovered quickly. Brandi walked up behind him, wrapped her arms as far as she could reach around his broad shoulders, and pressed her cheek against the back of his neck.

  “Cody, if you want to stop, it’s okay.”

  Primitive curiosity made her want to know what happened to the four children, but now, touching him with her arms and face, she could feel the tremors that ran through him beneath the surface. He brushed her aside and returned to the couch. She followed.

  “The helo never came. We never went back for the kids.”

  “I was taken to a village near a ravine. They locked me in a truck trailer, a torture chamber — hooks, electric batteries, wires everywhere. Bloodstains and the smell of vomit, urine and feces made me wanna puke. I was left there for what seemed like forever. No water. No food.”

  Brandi had the crawly feeling again, like during his nightmare. She must hold herself together.

  “I heard children crying. It seemed far away, but hard to tell because my only connection to the outside was a small vent on each side of the trailer. Some abducted kids are treated relatively well. I had no way of knowing their condition at that time, but later —”

  “Later what? What did you find out about their condition?”

  He shut his eyes. “I saw no sign of the POWs. The bloodstains were at least a week old. The helicopter survivors had not been in the trailer.”

  Why had he evaded her question about the condition of the kids? Brandi walked to the refrigerator to retrieve two bottles of cold water and compose herself. Three swallows, then she sat back down.

  Cody just placed his bottle on the coffee table and continued. “Intel had told us that people in this region were more brutal than most because they were secularists and hardliners. They don’t
torture people just for information. They do it for hate and cold-blooded pleasure.”

  No matter how well Brandi had prepared herself, it could never have been enough. Something evil and foreboding had invaded their room but she was too old to hide under the bed. She sat on her hands and braced for the worst.

  “Finally, this big Taliban officer came in with three subordinates. One carried a small cup of water for me but no food. I learned later that this guy in charge was a wanted terrorist.

  “They tried to make me tell ‘em where the SEAL team was hiding, but I didn’t know. I lost track of time, didn’t think they’d ever stop.” He shuddered. “I woulda made up any story to get ‘em to stop. I told ‘em the SEALs had left the area, but they knew it wasn’t true.”

  He reached for the water bottle and downed half the contents. Brandi kept silent.

  “Finally, I could hear activity outside the trailer. I assumed it was morning again. Then I heard these indescribable screams. I didn’t know if it was even real at first. Sounded like some small animal, but then I realized — Men’s voices chanting, shouting, the smell of gasoline and flesh burning. It took a maximum effort to keep my sanity. You can’t imagine. Sometimes I still hear it.”

  He put his hands over his ears, flinched his eyelids shut, and rocked back and forth.

  Brandi’s eyes burned and she became lightheaded. The rocking scared her.

  “Cody, I think —”

  “They made sure I heard every sound.” He stopped rocking and leaned forward. “Right after that, the soldiers — totaling about three-hundred — decided to move on. They hooked the trailer to a tractor. That’s when they threw me on the street.

  “At first, the townspeople moved back and became quiet — so quiet I could hear a gasping sound. I looked up and saw the smoking body of a child hanging about six feet off the ground.”

  Brandi lost all the air in her lungs. “Oh, Lord Jesus. No. No. No.” She battled the urge to run into the bathroom and cry her eyes out.

  “He was one of the four we had left behind. Didn’t make any sense. Did they think he was a traitor? Nothing makes sense over there. His tiny face was beyond recognition, but I knew who he was because two of the older men standing there were holding those little scuffed boots and the pants and shirt he was wearing when I…when I had left him tied up.”