by J. F. Smith
When the game was over, he wanted to get home to look around to see if he could make it happen or not, but had to first contend with Bret and Jim. They saw the job of supporting Matt only beginning at the softball game… that was just the warm up. Since they wanted to make sure he didn’t have a chance to second guess his decision, they insisted they go out drinking after the game, and Matt spent the better part of the afternoon indulging them.
When he finally did get some time to himself at home, he was able to focus on his other task. He did a little searching on the internet and found what he was looking for remarkably easily. The harder part was the conscious decision to violate his promise to not talk about what happened in Syria to anyone. He knew he wouldn’t need to give away anything that mattered. He wouldn’t put the team at risk, or the rest of the process of dismantling what they could of Al-Hashim’s world. But he had given an absolute promise nonetheless, and honoring that commitment was very important to him. But so was something else.
The other thing that bothered Matt was that he knew this plan could backfire on him. He prayed it didn’t. He just had to show a little courage and faith that it wouldn’t.
So on Sunday afternoon, Matt found himself on a beautiful residential street. The kind with large, mature trees that grew in a canopy over the road, lined on either side with expansive, well-kept lawns. He stood in front of a house he had never been to before in his life, ringing the doorbell of the front door. It was a large, well-kept brick house with black shutters and a wide front door with mullioned glass panes on either side of it.
He waited apprehensively. He might have come all this way only to find no one home, but at least he would have tried, and could try again if necessary.
He was about to decide if he should ring the doorbell again, or just leave, when he heard the front lock turn in the door and watched the door open.
The man that opened the door had to be in his sixties, but looked older than that. More worn down and moving slowly. He was well-dressed, though, and looked at Matt a little suspiciously, like Matt was going to try and sell him life insurance or a cable TV package. Matt instantly recognized the ears that clearly stuck out from the side of his head, though, like a taxi driving down the street with its doors open.
Matt asked, “Hi, uh… Dr. Thomason?”
The man squinted at Matt and answered, “Yes, that’s me. Do I know you?”
“No, sir. You don’t. My name is Matt Goodend. But I know your son, Travis.”
Dr. Thomason squinted a little harder. “Oh.”
“I know this may be a little strange, Dr. Thomason, but I felt a need to come and let you know that, recently… that I got to know your son as a result of some trouble I found myself in overseas. I can’t talk about it very much, at the request of the Department of State, but you and I both know what your son does for a living.”
Matt shifted nervously from one foot to the other as Dr. Thomason studied him. “But I wanted to tell you that your son is an amazing sailor. Getting to know Travis a little, I doubt he brags about himself, but I thought you’d like to hear it from someone with direct experience.”
Dr. Thomason watched Matt, his mouth pulled into a slight frown. He said gruffly, “Hmmph. He’s not what you think he is.”
Matt immediately assumed that the gay thing must be playing into this a little. And it shouldn’t. It would hurt Matt to hear anyone say this about Mope. But his own dad? It was heartbreaking.
Matt said, “Well, I mentioned I got into some trouble. And Travis, your son, saved my life. Twice. And I don’t mean like pulling me out of a burning building or giving me CPR, Dr. Thomason. He put himself in serious harm’s way to save my life both times. And then he made it seem like it was nothing and that he’d do it for anyone. And while I can believe he would do it for just about anyone – there’s certainly nothing special about me – I can tell you for absolute sure, what he did definitely wasn’t ‘nothing’. And since he probably won’t ever even mention it to you himself, I wanted to take the chance to tell you personally just how proud you should be of your son. Of Travis. I only got to spend a few days getting to know him due to a very odd circumstance, but I’m more proud to say that I know him than anyone else I think I’ve ever met. To be able to refer to him as a friend is a huge honor for me, even if it’s one I probably don’t deserve.”
Matt reflected for a moment. “Mmmm… Dr. Thomason, you say Travis isn’t what I think he is. I’m not sure what you think your son is that changes any of this. But it seems very strange to me to focus on what you think might be missing in your son instead of seeing what’s actually there. Even if he had not saved my life, I think I would have more respect and admiration for Travis than any person I’ve ever met.”
Dr. Thomason got quiet for a minute, his aged eyes distant. “He’s not his older brother, though. Chris would have been even more than what Travis is,” he said, attempting to be defiant, attempting to hold onto a way of thinking that had served him for the last thirty-plus years.
Matt had a hard time listening to this. Maybe this was all pointless. Maybe Mope’s father had built the wall around himself so thick that nothing could get through. But he needed to hear it. He was going to hear it.
“Travis told me that his older brother had passed away… that you lost your son. I’m very sorry for that. But with all due respect, Dr. Thomason, Travis is the one that’s here. And he’s the one that actually has accomplished so much that few people in the world could. I don’t think I knew what it meant for someone to be an actual hero in real life. But I do now. You son did that, Dr. Thomason. Travis did that. I came away a different person from everything that happened to me because of your son.”
Matt stopped talking. He had had his say, and waited to see if it made any difference to Dr. Thomason at all.
Mope’s father dropped his eyes from Matt, looking out past him into the manicured yard and quiet Baltimore street beyond. He finally nodded a few times and said, “Well… Matt? Right? Thank you, Matt, for coming by to tell me.”
Dr. Thomason’s mind seemed to be on Matt’s words and he didn’t wait for any response from him. He fumbled with the door, finally closing it and leaving Matt on the front step.
Matt turned around and looked at the young, green leaves shimmering in the spring sunlight over the yard and over the road. He wondered if this was all for nothing.
Chapter 28 – The Seven Word Statement
Matt sat in his living room, on the edge of his sofa, with the TV news mumbling in the background. He wasn’t looking forward to the weekend alone and had spent a lot of the previous week wondering if he had really done the right thing breaking up with Brian. Deep down, he knew he had, but he still didn’t like not having Brian in his life, either. That, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t heard from any of the SEALs in two weeks, made him very depressed. Jim and Bret had been great about trying to support him, even if it was a little too much at times. Even today, for a Friday night, he knew they’d try and get him out and cheer him up. He knew they’d be scheming to get him to move past Brian, but Matt wasn’t sure he was ready to start plowing through whatever set of guys they might be lining up.
He was about to turn the news off so he could answer his cell phone when he heard a name mentioned on-air that made him forget all about the call. He left the cell phone ringing in his pocket, forgotten, and actually turned the volume up so he could hear the CNN announcer more clearly.
The announcer said that the Pentagon had, earlier that day, announced a development in the war in Iraq. US Special Forces had captured Shahrokh Al-Hashim, an Iranian national that was believed to be a significant player in the supply and coordination of insurgents within Iraq. At the same time, they were announcing that infrastructure Al-Hashim had put in place to ensure a steady flow of explosive materials, those typically used in IEDs in Iraq, had been disrupted after a long and careful intelligence gathering mission. The announcer mentioned that the Pentagon refused to give any detai
ls on how Al-Hashim had been captured, or where.
Matt sat on his sofa for a long time after the story was over, his mind thinking about that night in Latakia. He found it very surreal that he knew more about the intimate details of that capture than any other person alive, except maybe Mope. The news and the Pentagon had made it sound so generic and impersonal – US Special Forces had captured him. But it was Mope. It was a real person that had done that, that had risked his life. All of them had risked their lives. And this was just the one incident that Matt actually knew about. It made him think about all the news stories about things happening in Iraq and Afghanistan. All of these stories had real people behind them.
His mind had already been on the team all day, all week actually, but hearing the news story and knowing that the government was now acknowledging Al-Hashim’s capture, put him in even more of a funk. He decided he needed to get out of the apartment and think through all the thoughts and feelings playing bumper cars in his head.
Matt suppressed a twinge of guilt as he felt his cell phone buzzing yet again in his pocket as he locked his front door, but he didn’t answer it. He knew he wasn’t going to answer it. He even had a very good guess as to who it was without looking at it. It was almost certainly either Bret or Jim, but even though this was surely another attempt by them to keep his spirits up and get him out where he could get his mind off of everything, he didn’t want his mind off everything. He wanted to think about it. So, even though it was a Friday night, one week after he had dumped Brian, he wanted to be alone. He wanted to be alone to think and remember.
He stepped off of his front step out onto the sidewalk so he could walk the few blocks over to Chimborazo Park. It was already mid-April, and it had been a perfect spring day, so Matt had his favorite long-sleeve t-shirt on, plus new jeans and sneakers he had bought the week before. He put his hands in his pockets and headed out.
As much as he didn’t want to feel disappointed, he did. Since he had said goodbye to Mope, Petey, Baya and Desantos the day he watched them leave on the Chinook helicopter, he had not heard from them. He really had thought he’d hear something by now. He had sent a couple of emails to them, but just short ones asking them to let him know they were really ok. He was worried that something had happened and he would have no way of knowing. He tried to tell himself that surely Dr. Thomason would have said something when he spoke to him a week earlier if something had happened to Mope. But still. It felt almost like part of himself was missing to not have any contact with them. The thought that maybe they had simply moved on to other things and forgotten about him hurt even worse. What if that was what had happened? He didn’t know what he’d do if that was the case.
In the park, there was a band setting up on a temporary stage for one of the free concerts they occasionally held there in the warmer months. People were already starting to gather in anticipation of it, spreading out on the large lawn in front of the stage. They were setting up blankets and picnic dinners, having a few drinks, and having a good time while they waited.
Matt wondered, what if the guys had all moved on and forgotten about him?
He also thought about what he had done up in Baltimore the previous Sunday afternoon. Had that been the right thing? Was it meddling where he wasn’t wanted? Would it just make things worse between Mope and his dad? The more he thought about it, the more he thought it had been a bad idea. Did he really expect to change Dr. Thomason into the loving father Mope had longed for in a five minute conversation? God, he felt how stupid an idea it was now.
He had wanted to do something, though. Anything that would re-connect himself with them. Help them. Especially Mope. He had meant every single word he had said to Dr. Thomason. Matt didn’t think there was anything in the world he wouldn’t do for Mope.
He wandered around the park for a few minutes and watched as more and more couples and groups and families arrived for the concert. It was a beautiful spring evening for some live music, and the grassy lawn was alive with people in love, people with friends, people with family. He had thought he wanted to be alone when he walked out of his apartment, but now it just hurt. He envied the carefree people around him.
Had he been too quick? Had he walked away too easily? If he had done more, could he have made things right between him and Brian? Matt wondered if he were to call Brian right then, would he be able to make things right? Could they maybe start over and get it right this time?
Matt’s shoulders slumped and he wanted to kick himself. Why did he do this kind of thing to himself? It was depressing to think of how easily he wound up blaming himself yet again for what he knew were Brian’s faults. He wanted to punch himself for actually considering calling Brian. He wound up feeling worse than when he had started out. He hated being like this.
Matt put his hands back in his pockets and started to walk back to his apartment, not wanting to be around even the crowd in the park.
As he came around the bend that led to the edge of the park closest to his way home, he saw a familiar face. But it didn’t help his mood any. It made it much worse.
Brian waved and came up to him.
“Hey Brian. What are you doing here in the park?” asked Matt, his voice far more doleful than he would have liked it to be. He didn’t seem to have the willpower to lift it up any, though.
Brian said, “Looking for you, of course.”
Matt looked confused. “How did you know I’d be here?”
Brian rolled his eyes. “You always come here when you want to pout and wallow in self pity.” The tone in Brian’s voice wasn’t nearly as harsh as it normally would have been when saying something like that. Matt didn’t want to be happy to see Brian, and he wasn’t. But, at the same time, it felt a little good having someone know him that well. The mixed up emotions were eating him alive.
Brian turned to walk with Matt as they continued back towards his apartment.
“So, Matt… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done those things, and I’m sorry you got hurt. But look at you, Matt, you’re miserable.”
As much as Matt didn’t want to believe that Brian had really changed, that kind of genuine apology from him was something he had never heard in the entire year they had been together. Maybe Brian had changed, after all.
Brian pushed his arm up against Matt’s as they walked along. He said gently, “If you think that you can move past your overreaction, though, we could try again. Make this work. Make this relationship better.”
Overreaction? Matt sighed. The new and improved Brian had lasted precisely three seconds. Brian had clearly not really changed at all.
Matt said, “Brian, I don’t trust you and I don’t have any faith in what we had, or could have, together.”
They had turned onto Matt’s street, and Matt started to say something else, but his voice trailed off when he looked down the sidewalk to where his apartment was. There was a crowd of people standing on his front steps.
Brian stopped when he saw the crowd, too. He asked Matt, “Who are all those people?”
Matt’s brow creased. “I don’t know.”
They walked a few steps closer. Matt saw a group of guys, well over a dozen of them, standing on his steps. He didn’t recognize any of them.
But then he heard a booming voice from inside the crowd, “Shit! I guess Richmond lets the queers run free range here!”
Brian stopped dead in his tracks, but Matt suddenly felt the world lift from off of him. He yelled, “PETEY!” and started running towards the crowd just as a tall, fire-headed Navy SEAL pushed his way through.
Matt hit Petey almost full speed and grabbed him with all of his might. He didn’t care how queer it looked or how much grief he’d get from Petey. All that mattered was seeing Petey again, and knowing they were ok after all.
His collision didn’t budge Petey one bit, though, and the tall SEAL put his arm around Matt and hugged him back slightly. He said loudly, as pissed off as usual, “Goddammit, Cornhole! You’re getting your faggot
stink all over me!”
Petey pushed back on Matt’s shoulders so he could get a good look at him, and grinned widely. Matt felt like his own grin would have split his face in two if it got any bigger. Matt noticed Baya and Desantos walking up behind Petey, both of them clearly happy to see him as well.
When they got to Matt, they both gave him a hug and each rubbed on his head a little.
Brian had caught up to them at this point. He said to Matt, “You mean you actually know these assholes?” Brian looked like he had just stepped in dog shit.
Matt’s grin never wavered. He punched Petey in the chest, hard, but it was like punching a concrete wall and Petey didn’t even notice. “Know them? These are some of the finest assholes in the whole US Navy!”
Petey looked over at Brian, a cold scorn on his face that could have put out a roaring fire. He asked Matt with a slight sneer, “Am I interrupting your little pussy party? Oh… wait… is this your butt-buddy Brian?”
Brian took a slight step back, not quite sure he wanted this Petey person paying attention to him now, on reflection.
Matt was definitely ready for Brian to go away now that the guys were here, in person. He was happy and excited and didn’t want anything bringing that down.
He said to Petey, knowing it would probably make him happy, “Well, not so much anymore, Colorado. We pretty much broke up a week ago.”
Brian scowled and cut in, “We’re not done, Matt. You may think we’re done, but I don’t think we’re done. I still want to talk about this and we’re going to…”
“No WE aren’t, Brian. It’s over. There’s nothing else…”
