by Larry Bond
“I’m okay,” said Josh. “Where’s Mạ?”
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, sir. Where’s Mạ?”
Greene looked at Mara. She seemed as calm and collected as ever. He turned back to Josh.
“You know what, Josh? I thought about it. She’s pretty young. For her to go over this. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Are you really okay?”
“Yes, sir. We—it’s been like this ever since that night.”
“I can imagine.”
He could do more than imagine. He could remember. For just a moment, Greene felt as if he were back in the cell in the Hanoi Hilton. Every day was intense. Every day there was more and more pressure. It went on like that, becoming the norm.
“Josh, if you can’t go on, I understand,” said Greene. “I know it’s—it may be difficult.”
“I can do it,” said the scientist. He glanced at Mara, then turned back to Greene. “I have to do it.”
“Then let’s go tell the world what’s really going on out there,” said Greene, taking hold of his arm and turning toward the elevator.