“Of course you were homesick. How did college go?”
“I played strong safety,” I said. “And returned punts. At the start of my junior year, I tore up my knee and couldn’t play anymore.”
“And you didn’t stay in college?”
“No,” I said. “Without a scholarship we couldn’t afford it. So I quit and boxed for a while.”
“You were good?”
“I was good, and I got a lot of fights. The Great White Hope and a former college kid to boot.”
“But you didn’t like it,” she said.
“I fought a couple guys who became contenders, one became champ for a while. And I realized the difference. I was good. They were great. And the only way I was going to get to the top was to play the White College Boy thing.”
“Which you didn’t want to do,” Susan said.
“Correct,” I said. “So I moved on and took the exam and got on the state cops and you know how that all went.”
“And you weren’t tempted to go back to West Flub-a-dub?” Susan said.
“My father and I talked about that,” I said. “He was certain that Boston was where I should be and I was too. So I stayed and missed them every day.”
“They were here,” Susan said.
I looked at her for a moment.
“They are here now,” she said. “With us. Wherever you are, they will be. You contain them.”
I felt my throat tighten for a moment. I nodded slowly.
“Yes,” I said. “With us.”
Chasing the Bear Page 9