Say Uncle

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Say Uncle Page 27

by Benjamin Laskin


  On the fifth day Sharc entered my room and dropped into a leather chair. He looked exhausted and very old. We stared at one another for a long while. I saw his eyes well up, but no tear fell out. He looked at me like a disappointed father at his wayward son.

  “Agent Fuckwit,” he said finally, “you win.”

  “I told you—”

  “I know what you told me. And I know that it is bullshit.”

  “Then I have nothing else to say.”

  “I do. This morning I put in my resignation. I’m done.”

  My mind scrambled to make sense of this latest ploy. It was a move I never anticipated.

  Sharc chuckled, sensing my wariness. It was a sad chuckle. “What,” he said, “no sigh of relief? No congratulations? Not even a good riddance to bad rubbish?”

  “How about a big wet kiss?” I said.

  He smiled, something I saw him do only once or twice in all the years I knew him.

  “Shit, Fuckwit, we go back a long way, you know that? We’ve seen a lot of changes in this goddamn world together. Hell, I think you and me caused half of ’em!” He let out a big, phlegmatic laugh. “I know we’ve had our disagreements, but we made a good team. I gave you a lot of crap and you goddamn deserved every bit, but you always got the job done and I respected that.”

  “Until now, you mean.”

  “I told you. I’m out. I quit. I don’t give a rat’s ass anymore.”

  “You never quit. We both know that.”

  “Look at me, Agent. Have you ever seen a more miserable looking carcass?” He opened his arms wide in invitation to all his bloated, bovine glory.

  “You should have taken better care of yourself, Sharc. You look like a leaky carbuncle.”

  “Hell, if I’d have known that the good Lord meant to keep me afloat this long maybe I would’ve. But I was never pretty like you, Agent, and knew I never could be. I also didn’t have a lady like Anya planning me fancy dinners either.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t going to take that bait.

  “I was married once, though. You know that?”

  “Who the hell would marry a repulsive ogre like you, Sharc?”

  He nodded. “I wondered the same thing, but a fine, purdy young gal, in fact. Her name was Cassandra.”

  “Cassandra, nice. Daughter of Priam, the king of Troy, endowed with the gift of prophecy but fated by Apollo never to be believed.”

  “She must’ve recognized my beautiful soul,” he grinned.

  “Glad to hear it,” I said. “What happened to her?”

  “She passed away twenty-one years ago. Brain tumor.”

  “Kids?”

  He shook his head. “I shot blanks. Just as well, I suppose…”

  “Well, Sharc, I’m really enjoying this little heart to heart, but why now?”

  “I told you. I’m never gonna see you again and I just wanted you to know a few things before I went.”

  “Okay, so you’re human and you got a beautiful soul. Is that it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, thanks a lot, Sharc. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Oh, and one more thing.”

  “You sleep with a teddy bear?”

  “I’m changing your sorry-ass name.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “From now on you’ll be known as Director.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right. You’re taking my place. You’d better start packing. You got a plane to Washington to catch.”

  “Have you lost your mind? I can’t take your place.”

  “Why not? You’ve been in the Organization from the get-go. You got the experience and expertise. Just think, all those questions you’ve asked me over the years, you’ll get the answers.”

  “But I don’t want it.”

  “You’re too old for field work. We got to put you somewhere.”

  “I’m not too old. Give me your youngest agent, I’ll kick his ass.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Sharc said, striking the air with his fist. “Kick ass!”

  He pushed himself out of his chair and shambled to the door. His hand on the knob, he turned and looked me in the eyes, his own absent of any humor.

  “One last thing,” he said. “Keep in mind that not everyone in the Organization has as beautiful a soul as I do.” He nodded. “Good luck to you…Ellery.” He opened the door and walked out.

  Slugger

  Excerpts from Journal Six, continued…

  An hour later there was a knock at my door. I snapped my suitcase shut and hollered to the person to come in. I half-hoped to see Sharc’s ugly mug again, back to yuck it up over the joke he had just played on me.

  “Director, it’s time to go.”

  I turned around. “I’ll be damned,” I said. “Piranha, you son of a bitch, how ya doin’?” We shook hands. “Time’s been good to you old friend.”

  “Looks like you’ve been weeding her garden yourself, Agent Fuck—, I mean, Director.” We chuckled. “May I suggest, Sir,” he said, “that your first act of business as Director be you do something about that God-awful name of yours? Congratulations, by the way.”

  “Condolences, don’t you mean?”

  He laughed and picked up my suitcase and led me outside to a waiting jeep. Forty minutes later as we sat in a plane waiting for takeoff, I looked out the window and saw soldiers lifting a heavy-looking sack used for dead bodies onto the plane.

  “Who died?” I asked.

  “Huh? You don’t—? Sharc.”

  “What? I just talked to him a couple of hours ago. He looked…well, he was alive. What the hell happened?”

  “Killed himself, I’m afraid.”

  “But why?”

  “You ought to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “That project meant everything to him.”

  “You knew about it?”

  “It was my idea.”

  I recalled Sharc saying it had been inspired by a comment Piranha had made about growing spies like tomatoes in a greenhouse. But I wouldn’t have called the mammoth program that evolved from it his idea. Piranha always had a big ego, though. Deservedly so, I supposed. He was the best of us, and the fact that he was still among the living was proof of his skills.

  Piranha was a couple of inches shorter than I, with Nordic good looks, blue eyes, and a firm jaw. I was three years older, which meant nothing now, but when we were young soldiers going through training camp he was the young buck with something to prove. He and I competed for top honors in everything during our training years.

  “You’re blaming me for him killing himself?”

  “No, and he didn’t either. He blamed himself. A man takes full responsibility for his own. If he blamed you why would he have asked you to take his place?”

  “Why indeed?” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Piranha. We both know you were his favorite. We both go back the farthest and like you said, the project was your idea.”

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but once we’re back in Washington and you’ve had time to go over the reams of paperwork waiting for you, you’ll know anyway. It’s the stats.”

  “Stats?”

  “You’ve got a better batting average than me, Slugger.” He laughed. “‘Slugger,’ how about that for your new name?”

  “Sharc made you privy to such information?”

  “You mean case histories? Of course not. But last night we had a long talk. He told me he was submitting his resignation and picking you as his heir to the throne. He wanted me to know his decision was objective and not based on any favoritism. He showed me what amounted to a scorecard of all our missions over the years. Sharc was a meticulous record keeper and had developed his own ranking system for evaluating his agents. He said it helped him choose the best man for each mission. Anyway, you came out on top.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “Why should it?”<
br />
  “Didn’t you once say that second place was no place?”

  “Did I say that?” He laughed. “Tell me I wasn’t that cocky!”

  He shook his head in amused disbelief. “Well, I regret that age has mellowed me some over the years.”

  The plane took off and Piranha, accustomed as I was to years of flying, was soon fast asleep. This time, however, I couldn’t sleep. Sharc had thrown Slugger a screwball and I was caught swinging at air.

  Whammo!

  Zeeva said, “You guys ready?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “but are you going to tell us where we’re going?”

  “Home,” Johanna said.

  “Thank God,” Doreen said. “Then let’s get going.”

  We gathered up our stuff and started walking.

  “So, it’s over?” I said in disbelief, as they marched off ahead of me.

  “Almost,” Noriko said.

  “But we’re going home, right?” Doreen said. “It’s back to my own bed, school, life as usual, right?”

  “If that’s what you want,” Noriko said.

  “But it can’t be over,” I protested. “So Clownhead fessed up and told you what you wanted to know? You don’t expect me to believe Doreen and I went through all we did just to flush that loser into the open. I don’t buy it.”

  “Sounds good enough to me, Guy,” Doreen said. “Just keep walking, and pick up the pace, will you?”

  “Have a little dignity, Doreen,” I said. “If you buy this bunk, then you and I were nothing but bait. I’m not going home till I get some answers. No, I take that back. I want more than answers. I want to meet Ellery Channing. Bring me the head of Ellery Channing!”

  Zeeva said, “Your brother has watched way too much TV.”

  “There’s no talking reason with you girls, is there? Where’s Max? He’s a guy. He’ll listen.”

  Johanna said, “He and Melody went on ahead to make travel arrangements.”

  “We got return tickets,” Doreen said.

  “You won’t be going back the way you came,” Noriko said. “We’ll drive south, do some island hopping, and then you’ll fly out of Penang.”

  “Malaysia?” I said.

  “Yep. It’ll take an extra few days this way but you’ll be home soon enough. Besides, the islands are lovely.”

  “Fine,” I said. “As long as Ellery Channing is sitting on the beach waiting for me.”

  “Guy,” Doreen scolded, “would you stop? It’s over. He doesn’t want to see you, okay? Accept it. It’s not up to you and it never was.”

  “No, I’m not going to accept it. I’ve spent my whole life on my back saying uncle. I want to stand on my feet and say it to his face. You go home, Doreen. You got a life. I won’t have one until I find Ellery Channing.”

  “Noriko, Johanna, talk sense into my moron brother.”

  “Guy,” Johanna said, “maybe Doreen is right. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you. Maybe he can’t.”

  “What d’ya mean he can’t? He’s the friggin’ Director. He can do whatever he damn well pleases.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Noriko said. “He’s not Director anymore.”

  “He’s not?”

  “Far from it,” Johanna said. “I thought you said you read the journal?”

  “Half, and then the damn batteries went out in my flashlight. But if he’s not the Director then why can’t he talk to me?”

  “He made a promise.”

  “What promise? To who?”

  Noriko said, “He promised your parents.”

  “My mom and dad?” I exclaimed in incredulity. “Doreen, what the—? Do you know about this?”

  “Shit…” she said.

  “I knew you were hiding something! Just tell me, for Chrissakes.”

  “Guy,” Doreen said, “I don’t know everything. I only know one thing and I’m not telling you, so forget it.”

  “Well I’m not getting on that plane home with you until you do.”

  “I can’t, Guy. Just trust me on this one, okay?”

  “You promised too, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s just great. Aren’t you sterling. Shit. Zeeva…?”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  Until now Aidos had steered clear of my ranting, keeping about ten steps ahead of us. She walked silently with her bow and quiver of arrows around her shoulder. Her thick black hair tied in a ponytail bounced on the middle of her back. She seemed more interested in the landscape and the butterflies than in our conversation.

  Aidos was an odd one. I had read rumors of some of her feats and exploits five years earlier when the Pinecrest thing was news, but she wore nothing on her sleeve. She was sunny, modest, and seemingly imperturbable. Although she shared many of the other girls’ talents and easily kept up with them, I found it difficult to understand what a nice girl like her was doing hanging out with a group of badasses. Clearly, the ‘greenhouse girls’ considered her an equal. I even had the impression that they might have envied her. Aidos seemed to possess an uncommon faith, as if she walked with angels and was privy to their whispers, like Joan of Arc—peasant girl, warrior, and saint.

  I trotted up beside the Maid of Pinecrest. She smiled and said, “Hi, Guy.”

  “Did you promise anyone that you wouldn’t talk to me about certain things?” I asked.

  “I try to avoid making promises.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, if I’m being asked to promise not to repeat something I’m about to be told, then that person doubts my powers of discernment, and shouldn’t be telling me in the first place.”

  “I never thought of it that way before,” I said. “So you didn’t—”

  “But if I do make a promise,” she added with a mischievous smile, “I never break it. Your word is the keystone to your integrity, and integrity is the most valuable thing a person possesses.” She put her arm around my shoulder and smiled again. “So, what is it you want to know?”

  “Nothin’,” I mumbled. What’s the point? I thought. “Forget it. I don’t even know what I want to know…”

  “Cheer up, Guy. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks, that’s all. You can do as your sister says and go home and put it all behind you and pick up where you left off.”

  “There’s nothing to pick up! Where I left off was scholastic probation. Do you think the dean will look fondly on my hasty departure to sunny Siam a week before finals? Not likely.”

  “There are hundreds of colleges that will give you another chance, Guy. I wouldn’t worry about that.”

  “Maybe, but…”

  “Is there something else?”

  I heaved a sigh that could have snuffed out all the candles on Methuselah’s birthday cake. “Only everything,” I muttered.

  “That’s right. There’s everything else.”

  “I was being ironic, Aidos.”

  “Sure you were. Now, can I ask you something?

  “Anything. Unlike everyone else around here, I have no secrets, no promises, and no integrity. So shoot.”

  “Do you feel that you’re the same Guy you were before this all started?”

  “That’s it? That’s your question?”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  I rolled my eyes, sighed heavily again, and hung my head. “I don’t know. My prospects sure aren’t any rosier.”

  “And by ‘prospects’ you mean…?”

  “Women and wampum,” I said. “Of course. Duh. Dames and dollars. Babes and bucks. Cuties and coin. Gals and, um—”

  “Are you being ironic again, Guy?”

  “…Gelt. Yeah, you heard me right.” What the hell, I thought. I was tired of everyone and their evasive questions and answers. “Mistresses and money, baby. Though I suppose I’d have a much better shot at the former if I had a lot of the latter first. And don’t knock ‘em. With goals like these men have become president.”

  I heard laughter behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at the laggard
s. Doreen was recounting her love life and its long list of loser boyfriends, a history that the other girls were finding quite amusing.

  Aidos said, “So I’m to understand that’s really what you think life is about? That’s what you want to do with your time here? You’re sure about that?” There was no sarcasm in her voice. No frown on her pretty face.

  I nodded, unequivocally affirming my life’s dream.

  Aidos took my hand, laced our fingers together, and smiled.

  Whammo!

  I gasped and stopped in my tracks. My eyes bugged and my jaw swung unhinged about my knees.

  Aidos grinned, tugged me forward, and then gave my hand another light squeeze.

  Double whammo!

  Now, I knew well what a randy river of testosterone bubbling through my veins felt like, and this was nothing like that. When Aidos took my hand I felt a vitality of a very different order. I felt as if my entire body had lit up like Las Vegas Boulevard. All my senses started snapping to attention as everything around me became more vivid and vibrant. I smelled the trees around me as if they were bending over and exhaling in my face. Behind me the girls’ voices were so loud I thought that they were right on my heels. I checked and was surprised to see that they had actually lagged even further behind than before.

  I gave Aidos the fish eye. “What are you doing?”

  She replied by sending me another mind-swiveling jolt.

  “Aidos, you’re freaking me out.”

  She unlaced her fingers from mine and we kept walking. But the feeling lingered.

  “How’d you do that?” I said, mystified. I thrust my hands out before me and looked at them as if I was trying them on for size. My whole body, in fact, was like something I had just discovered. I hopped up and down and did a quick boxer’s sprint. Aidos smiled. Aidos laughed. Aidos glowed!

  “You didn’t answer my question, Guy.”

  I couldn’t answer, not without sounding like a babbling idiot. My mind was racing to the twelve corners of infinity and I was supposed to defend a life’s dream of ladies and lucre? What was that peabrain Guy thinking?

  “Who are you?” I stammered.

  “Sorry, but I asked you first.”

  Not in words she didn’t, but I knew very well that she had. I don’t know what she did to me or how, but it had suddenly become crystal clear that Aidos was right. My real question wasn’t the angst-filled: ‘What do I want from life?’ It was: ‘What was I going to do with my life?’

 

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