by Ames, Alex
“But it’s not only her performance, it is also her personality,” Compston said. “She is eighteen but has the presence of a much more mature person. The selection process is confidential, but I can share an anecdote with you. The final interview is kind of reviewing the recruit, verifying any assumption or hunches, and simply getting to know the candidate better. Agnes came into the room, three highly ranking officers in uniform opposite her, me on the side, observing. All the officers sat straighter when she approached the desk, and after she sat down and looked at everyone, I had the feeling that the power structure of the room had changed for a second. Your daughter, a mere high school student, for a moment commanded the room. And keep in mind that the military is all about chain of command. Usually everyone inside a room full of soldiers knows exactly who is in command of what and whom. And your daughter disrupted that.”
“Is that good, or bad?”
“Your daughter is a natural leader. She has presence. She will go very far.”
“If she’s not killed first?” Rick asked. “Just keeping my role as the proud but concerned father.”
“Agnes will be serving in the US Navy. She will defend and enforce US interests anywhere necessary. In good times and bad times. Live with this, and Google the statistics yourself, Rick,” Compston said. “I promise you: she will be an excellent officer, and she will have a lot of fun. And my personal prediction, which we will keep between ourselves: she will become a four-star general by the age of forty.”
Rick shook his head. “This is hard to digest.”
“I can only tell you my observations and personal opinion. Nothing I say will convince you to shed your fears. You will have to work that out for yourself. You had other plans for her, or saw her in other roles, but she is an adult now and is taking control of her own life.”
“You are right about that. I saw her more with a Nobel Prize than with some golden stars on her shoulders. Or at Harvard, kicking scientific ass,” Rick admitted.
“I’ve had this discussion many times before. ‘Such an excellent student, now lost to the military.’ But, in all fairness, why shouldn’t the military get the smart ones, too, once in a while?” Compston finished his coffee. “To keep the stupid assholes at bay. Rick, I have to go. Give my regards to Agnes.”
The men shook hands, and Rick watched Compston walk and click out of the store.
General Flint. Now that’s a thought to get used to.
thirty
A Harebrained Scheme
Agnes
Dana was not privy to the details of the plan until the last minute, to avoid unintended verbal spills. Agnes purloined her late mother’s still valid driver’s license and, with Britta’s help, attempted to add twenty years to her face with makeup and Mom’s reading glasses. The result was stunning, and both girls had to swallow several times in recognition of their mom’s features looking back from the mirror.
“It’s like this magic mirror where Harry Potter sees his dead parents for the first time,” Britta whispered, and the sisters sat spellbound for a while. Agnes didn’t even dare to do a impersonation of their mom.
Charles bypassed Agnes’s open door, cool as ever. “Nice work, sisters! Hi, Mom!”
The tickets were purchased via prepaid Visa. “A practice that will flag us with Homeland Security, for sure, together with the fact that we’ll only have carry-on luggage,” Charles predicted. “But in our favor: single white mom with three kids, nothing more unsuspicious for the TSA. You just need to act convincingly, Agnes.”
Agnes felt the nerves coming on. “Hope that some of Louise’s skill rubbed off on us.”
Tuesday morning came. School wouldn’t start until the following week, and Rick had a job interview with a conventional shipbuilder in Santa Barbara. At eight-thirty he left the house. At 8:45 a.m., Mrs. Flint and her three kids got picked up by a taxi service and driven to LAX. Dana had to pee twice from excitement, but they made it in time for their flight to Baltimore. Security was tight, but there were no guns, knives, or water bottles in the possession of the Flint posse, and also their shoes were not considered threatening. Most importantly, Agnes’s make-up and acting skills held the test of various real-life interactions, including constant giggles from Dana, so no issues.
All four of them sat fidgeting and restless in their seats before takeoff. Charles and Dana because it was their first flight, and Agnes and Britta because they expected to be pulled out of their seats by a determined sky marshal, or, worst case, by their furious father.
None of that happened, and American Airlines moved them to thirty thousand feet fifteen minutes later, direction: Baltimore.
It was cold. Very cold. “Take jackets” had been Charles’ logistical advice, but being a native Californian who had only left the state once to cross into the Nevada desert, he had no further practical knowledge on how to beat real snowstorm weather.
“Shoot,” Britta said. “Coming so far to be beaten by a wall of cold.” They had retreated into the terminal after the first failed attempt to get outside to wait in the taxi line. A straight ten-yard jump from sliding door to taxi door was feasible, but not a fifteen-minute wait at ten degrees with a cold-charged nor’easter controlling the outside. Charles spotted a limo service sign, and they were able to negotiate a cash transaction. Ten minutes later, a young Indian guy with an iPad reading “Flint” came into the terminal.
He gave the mock Flint family a lookover. “You are aware that our beaches are closed this time of year?” he asked.
Dana giggled. She was still crazed-up by the exciting stunt the whole gang had managed to pull off.
At eight o’clock in the evening they entered Johns Hopkins Hospital through the main entrance.
“How do we do this? She is Louise Waters; they will not let us into her room,” Charles asked.
“Open and honest,” Agnes said and approached a receptionist. “Excuse me, we are visitors of Louise Waters. Could you let her know that the Flint kids are here?”
“Sorry, but we have a policy not to disturb patients after eight o’clock. And we cannot confirm that this Miss Waters is a patient of ours.”
“Maybe she is registered as Mrs. Ivana Voda? We came all the way from California to visit her. It is important.”
“No, I am sorry. I can’t help you.”
The Flint kids regrouped. Charles had an idea. “Do you still have Floris’s number? He should be around somewhere nearby.”
“Sure, good idea.” Agnes got out her phone and called the bodyguard. After a few rings, the phone was picked up, the background sounds indicating a bar or restaurant.
“Floris, this is Agnes Flint. We are in Baltimore and would like to see Louise.”
“Agnes? Baltimore? Now?”
“We’re in the lobby at Johns Hopkins.”
A moment of silence. “You guys are beyond . . . Give me your dad.”
“Um, we are alone.”
“Alone? As in no Dad?”
“No Dad. Long story, but in a nutshell, we bolted to visit Louise. Dad wouldn’t let us.”
“Godverdomme!” came over the line. “In the lobby?”
“Yup.”
“Your dad knows this?”
“Nope.”
“Whatever happens, don’t move. Be over in five.”
Three pair of eyes looked at Agnes, who smiled confidently. “One step closer to our goal.”
Agnes’s phone rang. It said “Dad” on the display and she held it up for her siblings to see.
“Don’t pick up!” three voices sang.
“I think we should. He will be scared for us.”
“Daddy calls the police,” Dana said.
“Maybe even the FBI,” Britta said.
Charles stole glances left and right as if he expected to see an FBI agent lurking around the corner.
The phone kept ringing.
“I think we really, really should.”
“Overruled, Agnes!” Charles and Britta said.
> “Yes, overglued,” confirmed Dana.
“Telling him where we are might buy us time,” Agnes tried.
“All right, if . . .”
The phone stopped ringing, truth and consequence postponed.
A few minutes later Floris’s huge body walked through the sliding doors, and even the security guard shrunk back at first sight. The kids knew Floris as the tough guy without any emotions, but for the first time they saw him worried. He had the phone to his ear. “I see them. They are fine. Look a bit tired, but they are fine. Call you back, Mr. Flint.” He pocketed the phone.
“Hi, Floris,” they chimed.
“Hi, kids.” Floris stared at them. “You guys are crazy. Do you know how worried your dad is?”
The kids stood silently, the enormity of the harebrained scheme starting to sink in.
“He’s coming here right away.” Floris wagged his phone.
“Can we see Louise?” Dana asked, ever the practical one.
“Are you even aware of how sick she is? She made it through the last day of her medical trial and is in pretty bad shape,” Floris explained, sinking to one knee to hug little Dana gently. She almost fell into his arms, dead tired, only kept awake from adrenaline and the hope to see her friend Louise again tonight.
Floris organized rooms at his hotel, and the little group rode back in the big black SUV. After check-in, it was immediate silence from all of them, Charles started to snore right away, and Dana was already gone during the short ride to the place. Floris called Rick to give a brief update and then also went to bed. He was not a man of many thoughts, relying in life on his size, strength, and politeness, never much for books or social activities. But this night he thought about the attachment of the four kids to Louise in her time of crisis and their determination to travel the country to see her. Floris did not much understand the motivations of other people nor the complexities of Louise’s and Rick’s relationship. And he thought that these four kids sleeping in the room opposite had been the only people visiting Louise out of their own accord.
Rick
His hunt for an overnight flight had been successful, not direct but via Phoenix, booked ultra-last-minute via smartphone during the dash to the airport; Hal drove him. Rick was crammed between overweight fellow Americans and on the second leg between very small but constantly yakking Asian guys. He had brought his ancient iPod but wasn’t able to enjoy Bob Seeger or Bruce Springsteen.
During the flight, Rick had time to reflect on the turns his life had taken over the last nine months since Josh and his crazy boat project had arrived at the shipyard. Meeting Louise and falling in love. The ups and downs in the business with the final failing. This new year would be a year of change and decision. A new job for himself. Either close to home or moving the family? Agnes would leave for school in the summer. Little Agnes, who was such a child’s child in her early years, always dreamy and focused on Barbies, horses, and drawings with lots of pink. That epic remark she had made shortly after she turned six and started kindergarten: “This school thing sucks. I have no time for it anymore. All I want to do is play, play, play!” And then later, as if a biological switch had been turned on overnight, she had abandoned Barbie, fantasy books, and Legos and had turned into a little woman, becoming a mall professional, hanging out with her friends, and turning very serious. And even more serious after her mom died. So many changes in so little time.
Baltimore was colder than he had anticipated, and he shivered from the wind blazing through his light jacket and pullover combination. He hadn’t had time to hunt for the down coat at home. Floris had texted him the address of the hotel, and the cab took its time through the morning traffic. He had worried so much about the gang that he had had no time to think about Baltimore and Louise in advance. What am I supposed to do now with my kids?
He arrived at the hotel and hurried to the restaurant. The hostess spoke to him, but he did not hear her. He saw his kids merrily around the table, and they looked back at him. Their looks were not worried; the opposite, they appeared genuinely glad to see their father. As he started walking toward them that moment, that very moment, he knew that they had been right and he had been wrong. It came to him like a fundamental truth, filling a large void inside of him that had been there since Bella’s death. He had brought Louise into their lives, and in a short while—even faster than Rick himself—the kids had accepted her totally and without reservations. Not as a new mother, but as a friend, as a new part of their family. Louise had been important to them. And he had let them down after Louise and he had fallen out, like in a bad divorce where the parents fought on the backs of the kids.
The four Flint kids knew they were right. Sometimes fate had to be pushed, decisions had to be forced. Even though all four still felt bad about lying to their father, they knew that their decision to come here had been correct. They had the moral high ground, and they did not waver. Whereas any other family would have started a shouting match, the father screaming and the kids crying or protesting, nothing like that happened at their reunion. All five knew who had been right and who had been wrong.
“Daddy!” Dana jumped up from the table, cereal flying, and ran toward her Dad, breaking the ice, as usual. Rick swept her up and hugged her, kissing her hair several times. He kept Dana in his arms, and the rest of the gang all came for the big tearful group hug.
Rick
The crying kids and their father hugged for a long time. Floris smiled and sipped his coffee, very likely glad that the responsibility for the gang had been transferred back to the parent. Protecting a superstar or politician? Anytime! Herding a family? Nightmare! Then Rick joined the breakfast table, and the kids told him about their adventures.
Later Floris called up Louise’s doctor and arranged for a visit.
They arrived at the hospital, and Dr. Singh greeted them.
“Are you really a doctor?” Charles looked him up and down. “You can’t be older than Agnes, my big sister.” He pointed at Agnes standing beside him.
“I assure you, I am a fully certified oncologist. And experienced. And I am older than your sister. But she for sure is much more charming than I am.”
For once Charles was silent and in awe; he had met a peer.
Britta whispered to Agnes. “Genius bromance in action. Pretty soon they’ll start reciting pi, seeing who’s first to give up.”
“Follow me, family.” Singh led them toward the intensive care unit.
“What happened to Louise?” Rick asked. “Is the cancer eating her up?”
“In layman’s terms, her body was poisoned by the experimental drug she had been taking and developed a sort of allergic reaction. Our gamble did not pay off. We had to put her into an artificial coma to stabilize her. It’s now a race against time. We’ll wait for the drug to be resorbed and then go for full-blown chemotherapy with possible bone marrow transplant.”
“She has a donor?”
“We are looking.”
They entered the intensive care unit. The Flint family looked at Louise’s small body through the wide glass window that separated the main area from her room. They hardly recognized Louise, who was under the bed sheets with lots of tubes and machines connected to her.
Charles whispered the names of the various pieces of equipment, but no one paid attention to him. Britta had teary eyes, Agnes held one of her father’s hands, and Dana held the other. It felt like a wake because flowers stood left and right in the front room.
Singh shrugged. “Not much to see. She’ll sleep peacefully for the next few days. Inside her body, of course, the war continues.” He studied a chart. “If the trend continues, we will wake her up day after next.”
“Can we be in with her?” Agnes asked.
“Sorry to be the bad guy here,” Singh said. “You guys look ill-prepared for the Baltimore winter, probably imported half the US germ population from your plane, and I can’t risk the slightest infection that might delay the chemo. So only one of you, after he
avy disinfection and in full gear. But not all five.”
All kids looked at each other. They had taken a long trip and huge risks to come here and see Louise. But the chance of seeing her father being back with Louise overrode the disappointment. They all turned their look at Rick.
“Your girl, Dad!” Britta said.
“Can I hold her hand when I am with her?” Rick asked Singh.
Singh looked up, confirmed with Floris, and nodded. He went to fetch the nurse, and then Rick was outfitted in a green paper suit with a hairnet, shoe-bags, mouth protector, and latex gloves. Before he went in, Dana approached him. “Gift for Louise. Because she is sick,” she said with a serious face and held out her little blue teddy bear that had been won at the Santa Monica Pier a long time ago. The nurse took it, sprayed it generously with disinfectant, and then gave it to Rick.
Floris took the kids outside to give Rick and Louise some privacy. Rick entered the room. He stood there for a few moments and then sat down on Louise’s right side into a recliner reserved for visitors. He had to perch on the edge to be able to reach Louise. Her hands were placed beside her, various tubes attached to them and her arms.
Rick carefully placed the bear beside some of the other memorabilia on the side table and awkwardly got hold of the part of the hand that was available.
“Hey there, Lou. It’s me,” he started. Was it really true that coma patients could hear the voices of people? He glanced at the heart rate monitor that steadily ticked at fifty-one beats-per-minute. No change there.
“Seems you are not excited to see me,” he joked and had to laugh, which turned into a sob. “Oh, Lou. What a mess we’ve made.”
He paused to catch his breath and to wipe away some tears. “Charles told us all about coma patients and how they feel that someone they love is close by and that the voice of a loved one comes through. I hope this is true and not some Charles-ism, like the moon landing conspiracy. I need to tell you so many things, I don’t know where to start. And when you wake up, I’ll have to tell you everything all over again. But I can’t sit here and say nothing. So, I will to tell you about Agnes. She decided to skip the Ivy Leagues and attend the Naval Academy; my girl will become a navy officer. That was a shocker, I tell you. But she had already started to set things in motion last summer, going through the motions with her other college applications. Did you know about this, Lou? I hope not, otherwise I’ll kill you when you wake up.
