...We will NEVER forget...
The
following Riptide tribute was written by the incredibly talented
Sheri Young. For more stories, and to purchase other stories written
by Sheri, please visit her Riptide
Fan Page for details.
COMING TO TERMS I found Nick seated in the corner of the benchseat, one knee up, with a forearm resting atop. He was leaning back, almost in a casual manner, but his eyes were riveted to the small television set, unable to leave the horrors displayed on its screen, just as we all were. I knew that's where I'd find him. I knew we'd all end up here.
"Hi, Nick." Was that my voice?
The Italian looked up and seemed to be grateful for the momentary distraction. He shifted in his seat, bringing the leg down and crossing the ankle over his other knee. "Hey, Boz. How're ya doin?" Nick snorted at the ridiculousness of the question.
"Pretty much like everybody else, I imagine. Want some coffee? I can start a pot." Nick looked like he hadn't slept in days. Then again, had any of us? "I'm surprised Cody's not here. Did you call him?"
Nick rubbed at weary blue eyes. "Hmm? Oh, no, I didn't. I just..." He shrugged. "I know we don't have to start on the Crowell case until next Thursday, but.... I don't know, I just ended up here. How's Gloria? How's little Allen doing?"
He'd found a way to bring a smile to my face. "Allen Ryder Bozinsky is doing just fine, thank you very much." I picked up the newspaper that had been left on the end of the benchseat and tossed it onto the coffee table. I knew neither one of us was interested in coffee. It would have just been something to keep me temporarily occupied. I eased onto the seat.
"He's too young to understand about planes becoming bombs and... and hate. Thank God for small favors. Gloria is... a lot of things. Numb... angry.... grief stricken. Like we all are. Ashley?"
Nick shrugged. "We cried... we talked... we cried some more. She went into work today, although I'm not sure why. I mean... nobody's flying anything for at least a few days yet. We're still grounded. I suppose she'll just be pushing papers around and trying to reschedule charters." He shook his head. "Like anybody gives a damn. Codi was asking some difficult questions."
"Such as?"
I turned to look over my shoulder in the direction of the unexpected voice. Okay, there was nothing unexpected about it at all. "Hi, Cody."
The blond captain of the Riptide nodded. "Boz." He patted my shoulder then leaned forward and shook hands with Nick. "I'm glad you guys are here. I figured you would be, but ya never know for sure. What kind of questions is she asking, Nick?"
Nick exhaled loudly. "Things like 'Da? Why did all those people die?' and 'will that happen to us?' You know... the easy stuff."
I winced. Nick's daughter was a couple years older than my boy, and at that moment, I was grateful for the difference. "What on earth did you tell her?"
"I said that there are good people in the world, and there are sick bastards in the world." Nick grinned at Cody's quiet chuckle. "Okay, I didn't use that exact terminology. I told her that she was safe because she's surrounded by people that love her. God... I wish it was that easy. Those people in New York, D.C. and Pennsylvania all have people who love them, too."
Cody rested a comforting hand on Nick's shoulder. "I understand, buddy. We have to keep it as simple as we can, though. Our kids can't live in terror." His voice got quiet, somber. "Neither can we."
"Terror, my ass!" Nick sat bolt upright. "Terror's not what I'm feeling, Cody. I am seriously, one hundred percent, no doubt about it pissed. GOD! What I'd give for the chance to kick some..."
"Hey, hey, hey..." And just as he had since the beginning of this glorious friendship back in the jungles of hell called Vietnam, Cody found a way to soothe his volatile friend's ruffled feathers. "I know that, Nick. Believe me, I'd love to be your door gunner. But... it's like Bush said. We've got to do whatever we can to keep things safe right here at home. I gotta tell ya, buddy. Selfishly? I'm praying like hell that you DON'T get called up."
I cleared my throat. Damn lump. "You really wanna go, Nick? Aren't you afraid?"
His head snapped up. "Any man who says he wants to walk into war or that he's not afraid is full of shit. But... if called, I'll go without hesitation. And I'd take care of business." His eyes were like steel. "Or by God, I'd die tryin'."
"We've got families now. YOU've got a family." Cody held up both hands to stop the protest. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm WELL aware that all those men and women who will be going over there have families, too, but... you're mine!"
His eyes locked onto Nick's, then mine, with an intensity I don't remember seeing before. "We ARE family. Always have been, always will be. I mean... here we are!"
Nick sighed, lowering his gaze. "I know what you're saying, Cody. I do. It's just... Jesus, I feel so helpless. Like you said, Code, we'll be going over. It's just a question of when." He toyed with an almost unseeable string on his jeans, but I had a feeling it was an excuse to keep his all too readable eyes shielded. "And I think we all know I will get the call. The question's not only when... it's also where. Don't know whether it's to remain stateside or... or someplace else."
"I know." I had to strain to hear Cody's response.
My own heart feeling like it was about to sink into my stomach, I hoped a shift in focus would help us all. "How are the twins taking things, Cody? I know they're several months older than Allen, but they're still awfully young."
Cody snorted. "They haven't really paid that much attention to it. I think... well... it's more like a... I guess a video or a movie or something. C.J. will glance at it for a few moments because of the sirens and all the activity, but he doesn't... you know. He doesn't grasp it. Nicky Jake is more interested in looking for bugs in the yard. When they see Gina crying... " He leaned against the main salon doorway and rubbed at his chin. "...OR me... they probably think we're just watching a sad movie. We've tried to make a point of keeping the news stuff to a minimum so they're not over exposed to it, and take my word for it, that's not an easy thing to do. As soon as they go down for a nap or call it a day? We seem to be drawn to Fox News."
He wasn't unique. As devastating as it was, as much as it made me sick to my stomach, I couldn't seem to stop watching it, myself. "Want some coffee, Cody?" I can't believe it. I said it again.
"No, thanks, Boz." He strolled over to the benchseat, sitting on the opposite side of Nick from where I was. "I'm not even sure why I'm here. God knows, nobody's going to call with a new case right now. Everything else seems so... so..."
"Unimportant?" I offered.
Nick planted both feet on the floor, and leaned forward, both elbows resting on his lap. "It does and it doesn't."
I raised a brow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean worrying about things like... like... are they going to put a new traffic light on Grosvenor or... who's going to play in the Super Bowl. That stuff suddenly doesn't mean jack squat. But, God! The flag flying over the Post Office? I drove by that this morning, and I'm dead serious, it damn near brought tears to my eyes. Let me ask you this. When the news first came out... what's the first thing you wanted to do?"
"That's a no-brainer," Cody responded with a quiet snort. "It's easy. Get every one of my loved ones together in one room, lock the door and throw away the key."
Nick snapped his fingers. "Bingo! There ya go. That's the stuff that seems more important than ever. Now do you see what I mean?"
I nodded. He was exactly right. And the irony wasn't lost on me. I had a feeling it wasn't lost on Cody, either. The one who'd spent so much of his life being a loner was the one who stated it so simply. "That's why we're all here," I said.
Cody pondered before answering. "You're right, Boz. The three of us have gone to hell and back a number of times. I'd go to war with you guys any time. I just... never thought..." He closed his eyes. I think he was still fighting to come to terms with it. "Not on our own shores. Not like this."
Nick gave Cody a moment before he spoke. "I needed to be here. You know... with you guys. Hearing your voices on the phone wasn't going to cut it. I know we see each other every day, just like we have for years and years..."
"And years," I managed to work up a grin. I could see this wasn't easy for him. For any of us.
Nick's voice was low. Numb. "Yeah... and years. When you called last night, Code? And said not to bother today? I just... had to. It's kinda nice that you two felt the same way."
Allen reached over and rubbed his shoulder. "Absolutely. I'm learning a lot these days. About... myself? My country? About evil. About not taking things for granted." He stretched his arm across the table and took hold of my hand. "About the importance of family."
Nick looked up, and I couldn't help but notice his eyes were moist. "I find myself wondering if those people... in the Towers... the Pentagon... and on the planes. If they'd remembered to tell their loved ones how important they were to them on that morning. You know? I mean... You're just going to work, right? It's just another day." He shook his head. Yep, he was still struggling with it, too.
"That's one of the lessons I was talking about, Nick." Cody gave that shoulder a squeeze. "We can't assume anything anymore. I think... I think that's why we're all sitting here today. Because... we don't want to leave anything unsaid."
Nick nodded. "Probably so."
"That doesn't mean I think old Binny boy is sitting on his rock figuring out how to take out the Riptide," Cody hastened to add.
My heart jumped. "Did they confirm that it was him after all? I hadn't heard that announced definitively." I'd had my strong suspicions, though. All fingers seemed to be pointed in his evil direction.
"No, not officially," Nick informed. His tone told me he was convinced Bin Laden was behind the abominable terrorist attacks.
Cody rose, arching his back before shuffling toward the coffee maker, although I had a feeling he wasn't any more interested in it now than he was when I'd asked earlier. "As I was saying, I just think the days are gone where we could just... rest on our laurels, I guess. If you care about somebody, by God you'd better say it."
"Innocent people," I found myself saying. "It could have been any one of us. When I saw those... those normal everyday people running down the streets, I thought to myself 'what if it'd been you, Cody... or-or-or you, Nick. What if it'd been me'. And I remembered that just the day before I'd snapped at you for kicking Roboz when he wouldn't get out of your way, Nick. What if those had been our last words to each other?" Nick blew it off with a wave of his hand, but I couldn't dismiss it quite so simply. How could I have lived with that?
Cody returned to the table after staring at the coffee maker as if wondering why he'd gone to it in the first place. He eased back into his recently vacated position on the benchseat. "I've found myself thinking about that, too. Let's face it. We all know just what we mean to each other. But... man! We do have a tendency to bicker over the stupidest stuff sometimes."
"That's because it's normal," Nick countered. He rested his arms on the table, folding his hands in front of him. "It's what normal people do. We ALSO know that no matter how much we bicker or whatever the hell it's about, when it's all said and done, we're still there for each other. It goes without saying."
Cody furrowed his brow as he allowed Nick's works to sink in. "Yeah, but... does it? Should it?"
The lump in my throat was starting to hurt. Maybe a soda would convince it to go away. Forget coffee, it required too much effort. I walked down in the galley, opened the fridge, pulled out three Pepsi's and brought them up into the main salon. "I think Nick's right. It does go without saying. Whether it should?" I set a soda in front of each man, and popped the top to my own. "That's hard to say... now. When things were normal? Maybe not so much."
"Normal." Nick raised his hands and covered his face with them for a moment. He lowered them with a heavy-hearted sigh. "When is it ever going to be normal again?"
Cody shook his head. "It'll never be normal again. At least, not normal as we knew it. I'm not sure, but... I have a hunch we'll all develop some... some NEW type of normal." He opened up his Pepsi and took a sip. "Thanks, buddy."
I nodded. I can't remember if I said "you're welcome" or not. "Guys? Why do I find myself breaking down when I watch the news or even read about it in the paper. I mean, it's not like I suffered any personal loss, because I didn't, thank the good Lord. Yet, I find myself on the brink of tears..." I couldn't continue or I'd be proving my point. I took a swig of soda, hoping that would stop the inevitable.
This time it was Nick who applied a gentle grip to my shoulder, while Cody watched. "Sure you did, Murray. We all did. We lost some of our innocence on the eleventh. Our complacency. We allowed ourselves to believe it could never happen to us. Not in our backyard. We lost our sense of security. We've now seen our freedom threatened, and I think because it COULD have been any one of us who was killed or... or who was left behind ... we have each felt threatened, like, we've lost a piece of ourselves. I can never..." The swallow was hard enough for me to hear. "... LOSE you guys."
I heard his voice break, and felt my own tears stinging my cheeks. Cody was sniffling when he put his hand on top of Nick's. I put my hand on top of his.
"God, please take care of those who lost loved ones," Cody said with his voice breaking.
I'm positive Nick must have lowered his head. I'm not sure because I'd lowered my own.
"And take care of the innocents," I added.Nick's voice was soft. "Please give us strength and protect our family."
"Amen." I think we all said that.
We remained that way, each quiet, keeping that physical contact as if afraid to let go. When the phone rang, we all jumped. The moment was broken. I wiped at my eyes while Cody answered the phone.
He cleared his throat first, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Hello. Riptide Detective Agency...."
I glanced up just in time to see the color drain from Cody's face, and I knew. I couldn't bring myself to look at Nick, but I could sense by the way he abruptly slid out from behind the coffee table and got to his feet that he knew, too.
"Certainly," Cody spoke into the phone, his voice flat. "Yes, he's right here, Colonel. Hold on." He held the receiver out, and Nick grabbed it.
"Hello?"
Cody took a step back, but remained standing, his arms crossed. My eyes met his, and I realized they must have been mirroring my own. I stood, too.
"Yes, sir. I can be there in...." Nick checked his watch. "I should be able to be there in no more than twenty... twenty-five minutes, sir."
It always fascinated me how Nick's whole body language changed in the instant he went from being a civilian to all Army. The shoulders squared, the back straighter. Even his voice seemed to change. Was that pride? Sense of duty? I didn't want to let him go. But we knew this would come, and Cody and I both knew our roles.
Nick hung up the phone. When he looked at us, the grief and numbness appeared to vanish, replaced by steely determination. "I have to go."
"I know." Cody gave him a grin. "We'll mind the store. You... you take care of business over there. And watch your six, I MEAN it. We'll take care of everything here."
I squared my own shoulders, as slight as they may be. "We'll make sure Ash and Codigirl are okay. E-mail us when you can. You better believe you'll have tons of e-mail waiting for you!"
Nick actually laughed at that. Maybe the comment wasn't as stupid as it sounded when I'd said it. "Don't criticize my typing, okay? You know how I am."
I'm sure I blushed. "I wouldn't do that."
"I know you wouldn't." He ruffled my hair before placing one hand on my shoulder and one on Cody's. "I'll do proud by you, guys. And I won't let this country down." I felt that hand tighten on my shoulder. "Whatever it takes, my friends."
Cody wrapped an arm around that shoulder and brought his free arm over and draped it around mine.
"Whatever we have to do." we responded together.
With heartfelt aloha to those who sacrificed on September 11, 2001 and after, and to those who continue the struggle to defend our precious freedom. God bless. Sheri Young
Note:
The following letter was posted on an AOL message board. With complete
approval from the author, I am proud to post it again here. Thank
you, Leonard P., and God Bless.
Hit The Buildings, Missed America . . . .
An open letter to a terrorist:
Well,
you hit the World Trade Center, but you missed
America.
You hit the Pentagon, but you missed America. You used helpless
American
bodies, to take out other American bodies, but like a poor
marksman,
you STILL missed America.
Why? Because
of something you guys will never
understand.
America isn't about a building or two, not about financial
centers,
not about military centers, America isn't about a place,
America
isn't
even about a bunch of bodies. America is about an IDEA. An
idea,
that you can go someplace where you can earn as much as you can
figure
out how to, live for the most part, like you envisioned living,
and pursue
Happiness. (No guarantees that you'll reach it, but you can
sure
try!)
Go ahead
and whine your terrorist whine, and chant
your
terrorist litany: "If you cannot see my point, then feel my pain."
This concept
is alien to Americans. We live in a country where we don't
have
to see your point. But you're free to have one. We don't have to
listen
to your speech. But you're free to say one. Don't know where you got the
strange
idea that everyone has to agree with you. We don't agree with
each
other in this country, almost as a matter of pride. We're a
collection
of guys that don't agree, called States. We united our individual states
to
protect
ourselves from tyranny in the world. Another idea, we made up on
the spot.
You CAN make it up as you go, when it's your country.
If you're free enough.
Yeah,
we're fat, sloppy, easygoing goofs most of
the time.
That's an unfortunate image to project to the world, but it
comes
of feeling free and easy about the world you live in. It's
unfortunate
too, because people start to forget that when you attack
Americans,
they tend to fight like a cornered badger. The first we knew
of the
War of 1812, was when England burned Washington, DC to the
ground.
Didn't turn out like England thought it was going to, and it's
not going
to turn out like you think, either. Sorry, but you're not the
first
bully on our shores, just the most recent.
No Marquis
of Queensbury rules for Americans,
either.
We were the FIRST and so far, only country in the world to use
nuclear
weapons in anger. Horrific idea, nowadays? News for you bucko,
it was
back then too, but we used it anyway. Only had two of them in the
whole
world and we used 'em both. Grandpa Jones worked on the Manhattan
Project.
Told me once, that right up until they threw the switch, the physicists
were
still arguing over whether the Uranium alone would fission, or
whether
it would start a fissioning chain reaction that would eat everything.
But they
threw the switch anyway, because we had a War to win. Does that
tell
you something about American Resolve?
So who
just declared War on us? It would be nice to
point
to some real estate, like the good old days. Unfortunately, we're
probably
at war with random camps, in far-flung places. Who think they're
safe.
Just like the Barbary Pirates did. They were wrong. So are you.
Better
start sleeping with one eye open.
There's
a spirit that tends to take over people who
come
to this country, looking for opportunity, looking for liberty,
looking
for freedom. Even if they misuse it. The Marielistas that Castro
emptied
out of his prisons, were overjoyed to find out how much freedom
there
was. First thing they did when they hit our shores, was
run out
and buy guns. The ones that didn't end up dead, ended up in prisons.
It was
a big problem then (especially in south Florida). We solved that
problem.
As for you, you're only the newest problem, not the first.
You guys
seem to be incapable of understanding that
we don't
live in America, America lives in US! American Spirit is what
it's
called. And killing a few thousand of us, or a few million of us,
won't
change it. Most of the time, it's a pretty happy-go-lucky kind of
Spirit.
Until we're crossed in a cowardly manner, then it becomes an entirely
different
kind of Spirit.
Wait until you see what we do with that Spirit, this time.
Sleep tight, if you can. We're coming.
God Bless the USA!!!!
A wonderful message by George Carlin:
Life
The paradox
of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but
shorter
tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend
more,
but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger
houses
and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We
have
more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment,
more
experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink
too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too
little,
drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too
tired,
read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have
multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too
much,
love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've
learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years
to life
not life to years.
We've
been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing
the street
to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not
inner
space. We've done larger things, but not better things.
We've
cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the
atom,
but not our prejudice.
We write
more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've
learned
to rush, but then we wait. We build more computers to hold more
information,
to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less
and less.
These
are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and
small
character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days
of two
incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes.
These
are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality,
one night
stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from
cheer,
to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the
showroom
window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology
can bring
this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to
share
this insight, or to just hit delete.
Remember,
spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not
going
to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who
looks
up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up
and leave
your side.
Remember,
to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is
the only
treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Remember,
to say, "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones,
but most
of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes
from
deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment
for someday
that person will not be there again. Give time to love,
give
time to speak, and give time to share the precious thoughts in your
mind.
Life is
not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the
moments
that take our breath away.
HOW TO STAY YOUNG
1. Throw
out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and
height. Let the doctor worry about them. That is why you pay him/her.
2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.
3. Keep
learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening,
whatever. Never let the brain idle. " An idle mind is the devil's
workshop." And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.
4. Enjoy the simple things.
5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.
6. The
tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who
is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.
7. Surround
yourself with what you love, whether it's family, pets,
keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.
8. Cherish
your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable,
improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.
9. Don't
take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, to the next county,
to a foreign country, but NOT to where the guilt is.
10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.
AND ALWAYS
REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we
take,
but by the moments that take our breath away. If you don't send
this
to at least 8 people.....who cares?
- George Carlin
Space
Shuttle Columbia
February
1, 2003
God Bless
Her And Her Crew
"...
to her crew and to the families of her crew -- we will find out what happened,
we will fix it, and we will go on..." NASA
"The
same creator who names the stars also knows the name of the seven souls
we mourn today. The crew of the shuttle Columbia did not return safely
to earth but we can pray they are safely home. "
President
George W. Bush