by Stan Schatt
“Mister Goldstone has a few minutes. He’ll see you right now.”
Jack walked into the large office and Goldstone rose to shake his hand. Fred had left the Navy a couple of decades earlier and built a very large insurance practice, but he still served as a major source of support for his fellow SEALS, whether that meant helping them find jobs or helping them reconnect with friends. He seemed to know every current or former SEAL in the San Diego area. Jack carefully closed the door behind him before taking a seat.
“What’s up?” While Goldstone’s body no longer rippled with muscles, his gravelly voice and steel blue eyes commanded respect. His head seemed to spring directly from his body with no discernible neck. The man’s huge hands looked as if they could still tear a man apart. While time had etched tracks across his forehead and under his eyes, his trim build suggested he still could fit into his service uniform.
“I need to talk with my former team, and I hoped you knew where I could find them.”
“You guys sure got a raw deal. As I told you the last time we talked, you did the right thing and so did your men. They backed you even though it meant washing out.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m just surprised you guys haven’t remained tight.”
Jack flushed. “It wasn’t my decision. I had my problems when I came home, and my shrink ordered me to avoid seeing them for a while because of the nightmares I had.”
“Why now?”
“I need to let them know what’s happened to one of us. You know the motto about never leaving anyone behind.”
Goldstone nodded and sighed. “Okay, I’ll give you what I have.” He turned to his computer and typed for a while and then printed a sheet. “Here’s the contact info I have. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them would just as soon not hear from you.”
“I argued with my shrink but she threatened to cut off my meds if I didn’t follow her orders.” Jack realized he was shouting and had drawn the attention of the receptionist, who crammed her neck to peer into the small glass portion of the door.
Goldstone spread his arms in a calming gesture. “I’m not the one you have to convince. I just meant I heard that some of them are having problems, and it’s easy enough for them to second-guess the price they paid for supporting you.”
Jack thanked him, took the printout, and left Goldstone’s office. The receptionist made no effort to hide her unhappiness that he managed to break through her protective wall and see her boss. He walked down the block to his mother’s office.
Her law offices occupied one of the top floors of the new high-rise and offered a view of the city that on a clear day extended as far as Jamul. The plump middle-aged woman sitting at the desk outside his mother’s office eyed him and smiled.
“Jack, it’s been too long. Is your mother expecting you?”
“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Foster. No, I just thought I’d say hello if she’s free.”
She already had picked up her phone and whispered something into it. She listened for a couple of seconds and then nodded to Jack.
Marjorie Starling rose from her enormous desk and hugged her son as his feet sunk into the plush purple colored carpet she had insisted on for her office. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I had a meeting down the block so I thought I’d drop by to say hello.”
Marjorie Starling’s face relaxed. “I meant to call you, but today’s been one meeting after another. I just received verification from my investigator.” She opened a drawer and withdrew a single sheet of paper from a file and handed it to her son.
“You found my biological parents?” Jack felt a lump in his throat.
“At least one of them. I’m sorry it took so long, and I hope it brings you some closure.”
Jack’s ears caught the inflection in his mother’s voice. “Mom, you know better than anyone that this doesn’t change anything. You’ll always be my mother.”
Marjorie bit her lip and smiled. “I go through this with so many clients; it’s harder when it’s your own child. I know how you feel. You need to do me a favor now.” Her voice did not leave any room for a refusal.
“What do you need me to do?” Jack smiled. “Is there someone you want me to kill?”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that. I told your father that we discovered at least one of your biological parents, and he’s taking it very hard. You need to go visit him right away. He has late afternoon office hours today even though students rarely come.”
“Mom, you know where this is going to lead. It always ends the same way. I just don’t have the energy to argue with him.”
“I don’t ask much of you, Jack, but I’m asking you as a personal favor to go there. He just needs some reassurance you love him. I know you do, but he needs to know it too. I love the man dearly, and I have to live with him. So, do it for me.”
Jack let his breath out slowly. “I want to touch base with this person first, if I can. I’ve waited an awful long time. I’ll stop by the campus right afterwards. He’s there until six, isn’t he?
Marjorie beamed at her son. “Yes, his undergrad class ends at four, and then he has office hours until six. He’ll be very happy to see you. Just don’t fight.”
Jack smiled thinly. “I promise I’ll try not to get in an argument with him. He probably has a fellowship already lined up and needs an answer tonight.”
Marjorie put her hand on her son’s arm and gripped it hard. “You’re doing the right thing. I’m okay with you deciding on your own whether or not to go back to school. I can understand you want to do everything on your own terms. Just remember that your father loves you. Trying to help you is his way of showing that love.”
She looked at her watch and sighed. I’m afraid I have a client scheduled in a couple of minutes, but we can talk later.”
“I’ll call you,” Jack said. He failed to hide the excitement in his voice. He hugged his mother and hurried out of the office. Jack glanced at the paper his mother gave him. It identified his biological mother as Vivian White, age forty-one, currently a waitress at the Waffle House in El Cajon. Her California Driver’s license listed an El Cajon address with an apartment number. Her age made Jack whistle. She had been only seventeen when she gave birth. No wonder she put me up for adoption. He called the Waffle House using the number his mother had given him.
“Waffle House,” said a gruff male voice with a Spanish accent.
“May I talk with Vivian White? I believe she’s one of your waitresses.”
“She’s off today. You call back tomorrow,” the man said and then hung up.
That kind of charm will bring in the customers in droves, Jack thought. He plugged the residence address into his navigation system and headed to the freeway. Since he already was downtown, it would only be around a twenty-minute trip. He debated all the way there on how to start a conversation after twenty-five years. He realized that the bar where he met Maurice was only a few blocks from the woman’s apartment. He’d been running in circles all day.
The El Real Apartments’ best days had been several decades earlier. Now the faded green paint failed to hide the need for new stucco. The patched roof didn’t inspire confidence that it could survive a major storm. Nobody had bothered to pick up the collection of empty beer cans that glittered on the faded lawn like fool’s gold. Jack climbed to the second floor and knocked softly on the door. His heart beat so rapidly that he wondered if he would be able to go through with it. He heard a television blaring a commercial, and then he became aware that someone turned down the volume; he then heard footsteps inside approach the door.
“Who is it?” The woman’s voice sounded tired as if she’d been sleeping.
“Mrs. White? Could I please talk with you? I’ve been looking for you for so many years.”
Jack heard a deadbolt lock turn and a chain release before the door swung open. Time had not been entirely kind to his mother. Her blue eyes looked faded, perhaps from too man
y disappointments, while her light blond hair worn medium length now showed a lot of gray. Her high cheekbones and small nose suggested she once had been a real looker, but dark circles under her eyes and a forehead now filled with deep wrinkles reflected a life in which she struggled to survive.
She stared at Jack as if she’d seen a ghost. Her mouth began quivering and tears began rolling down her cheeks.
“I know who you are! You look just like John!”
Jack took a step toward the woman and tentatively reached out with his arms to hug her. She collapsed into his arms and sobbed. He noticed a man staring at them through his open door. “Maybe we should go inside and talk,” he said.
Reluctantly the woman released him and opened the door wider. Jack entered and sat at a sofa facing an armchair. The woman moved the chair closer to the sofa and sat so that their knees almost touched. Stains of all kinds covered the gray threadbare carpeting. The room contained an uncomfortable looking sofa along with a small arm chair and coffee table, a floor lamp with a bare light bulb that cast shadows, and an older model television turned to some soap opera that Jack didn’t recognize.
“How did you find me?” she said in a shaky voice that revealed she hadn’t regained full control of her emotions.
“There are investigators who do that for a living. I’ve been trying to find you for years. I hope I haven’t upset you too much.”
“No, but you have to understand that I was so young that I couldn’t give you a good life by myself. John disappeared, and my parents refused to let me bring a baby home. I didn’t have a choice. I loved you so much. I prayed every night you would have a good life.”
Tears started to blur his vision. “I don’t blame you. The people who adopted me gave me a good life. I graduated from college and joined the Navy. I became a SEAL. Can you tell me anything about my father?”
Vivian White took a few deep breaths that seemed to calm her. She opened the handbag on the adjacent coffee table and took out a few tissues. She dabbed the tears from her cheeks and blew her nose before she was ready to talk. “John looked exactly like you. He was so handsome and the smartest man I ever met.”
“What did he do for a living?”
“He said he was a scientist, but he was very secretive. I never did find out where he worked. He spent lots of time writing what looked like chicken scratches in his notebooks. I opened one when he was out and tried to read it. I think he wrote math equations, but I never knew for sure.
I told a girlfriend about him once, and she said that maybe he was in the witness protection program. That made sense to me because he always was looking over his shoulder as if he feared someone was following him. Shortly before you were born he simply disappeared.”
“Can you tell me anything else about him? Anything would help me. I thought about him so often while growing up, but I never could fill in a face. Do you have a picture?”
“I destroyed his picture many years ago on a day when I was feeling sorry for myself. As I said, he looked just like you –same blond hair and blue eyes and muscles. He had this cute way of crinkling up his eyes when he looked at me. He said he saw me in pink.”
“He said that? He said he saw you in pink?”
Vivian nodded. “Yeah. Once he said he saw someone in black and it seemed to scare him. He spoke very good English like he was educated, but he had a slight accent. I never could figure it out, and he never admitted to being from anywhere else.”
The two talked for another hour, but Jack learned little more about his father. Vivian’s life had been a series of one bad decision after another. She never had given up, though, and she had always worked because she hated the idea of welfare. Jack gave her his phone number, and they promised to stay in contact. While Vivian soothed one ache that Jack lived with since he was small, he still wondered about his father. Why would he leave so suddenly? Why would he not follow up with at least one letter? Where did he go? Was he married? There were more questions than answers, especially since John probably wasn’t his real name.
Chapter 10
JACK HAD THE FEELING he was running around in circles and, in fact, he was. He found Interstate 8 completely jammed, and he drove through the stop and go traffic with his fingers drumming on his steering wheel in frustration until he could exit at College. He drove toward the new Physics and Astronomy building and into the crowded visitor parking lot. He had one major advantage over all the others looking for parking, though, and that was the disability placard in his glove department. He carefully placed it on his dashboard and pulled into a roomy handicapped parking spot. The placard was only good for one more month, so why not use it?
He climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and then headed down the hall toward his father’s office. He knocked on the door and braced himself, vowing to try to keep his promise to his mother and not have another argument.
He heard sounds coming from inside, including a man’s voice clearly raised in anger, but couldn’t make out the words. His father’s softer voice replied in what sounded like a conciliatory tone meant to calm the other person, but it only seemed to infuriate the man still further. Jack caught those last angry words as the door opened.
“You’re going to be damned sorry if you don’t change your mind. This is your last chance!”
The door opened and a middle-aged man wearing an expensive looking suit brushed by Jack and strode down the hall toward the elevator. He looked vaguely familiar.
Professor Aaron Starling opened the door and stared up at his son, his eyes magnified by the dark-framed glasses that balanced precariously on his substantial nose. Short, balding, and about twenty pounds overweight, he stepped aside and Jack eased by him. Befitting a full professor who directed several graduate students, his corner office offered a view of the campus and mountains behind it. Professor Starling sat behind his desk and motioned for his son to take the chair facing it.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that. If I’d known what he really wanted, I wouldn’t have accepted the endowed chair.”
Then Jack realized whom he’d seen. “That’s John Anderson?”
The professor nodded sadly. “He’s crazy. Let’s not go into that right now. To what do I owe this very rare pleasure?”
“Mom told you that she found one of my biological parents?”
“She did.”
Jack waited, but his father didn’t continue. The silence grew. “You know I love you and Mom. This is just something I needed to do. If nothing else, I’d like to know what kind of health history runs in my family.”
“You mean your real family?”
“No, you and Mom will always be my real family. I’ve told you that more times than I can count. I just don’t know how to get through to you.”
“We don’t see much of you. Even though you’re all grown up, we still worry about you.”
“I understand that. Look, did Grandpa tell you to become an astrophysicist?
“No, you know that he wanted me to go into the family business.”
“He didn’t see any use for all that schooling, did he?”
Professor Starling smiled. “It was difficult for him to understand why anyone would want or need that much education since he only made it through the eighth grade.”
“I just wanted to see whether or not I could cut it as a SEAL. Did you know that there’s a 98% dropout rate?”
“I didn’t know that, but you’re capable of being successful at anything you try. As I remember, you did very well here.”
“I just needed to get away.”
“Suzie still drops by occasionally and asks about you.”
“Let’s keep her out of this. I’m here to tell you that I love you and no phantom father will ever take your place. Am I getting through to you?”
Professor Starling studied his son and then his own face began to crumble. He rose as tears cascaded down his face, and he hugged his son. Jack held him tightly, and he could feel his father’s body shake through his s
obs. He gained control slowly until finally he broke away from his son and dabbed his cheeks with a handkerchief.
Jack looked at his father’s whiteboard and saw it covered with mathematical symbols. He studied them and recognized some of the differential equations.
“It looks like you’re back to your theory of quantum teleportation. I recognize the Bob and Alice equations.”
Professor Starling smiled with pride. “I don’t know how many people who haven’t taken graduate level physics classes would recognize that. You’re right. I’ve had a breakthrough of sorts regarding entanglement. I’m scheduled to present my new paper this next month in New York. What are you up to?”
Jack bit his lip. He didn’t want to ruin what up to now had been unusually pleasant. “Remember how we used to go to planetarium nights at the Reuben Fleet? They had a great show the other night about the possibilities of finding life on other planets, your favorite subject.”
Professor Starling’s eyes brightened. “Well, if my theory holds, someday we’ll be able to visit some of those places without spending lifetimes getting there.”
“I thought about that. Are you up on the latest candidates for alien life?”
Professor Starling nodded. “Sure, probably more up-to-date than NASA would like me to be. I think I’ve taken you to every science fiction movie where there’s at least one alien; unfortunately, most don’t do a good job making aliens credible. We’ve had that conversation before.”
“I know. Anyway, I think the movie listed a couple of planets named Kepler-62e and some planet named Gliese with a number after it.”
Starling reached for his pen and notepad and doodled as he talked. “The Kepler designation means that the planets have been located via the Kepler telescope. The Gliese 677 planet is a bit more interesting, though. Did the film explain where it’s located?”
“No, at least I don’t remember.” Jack felt pleased that he’d managed to turn his father’s attention away from his current unemployed status.