Ticket to Ride (29 page)

Then he and his middle finger were gone.

“I'm sure we'll have a nice time when we all get together,” Wendy said.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, “as long as Mike doesn't bring a knife or a gun.”

She laughed. “Well, at least he stopped in to see you.” Then that cheerleader face of hers, so finely wrought despite the shadows of coming age we both bore, became mournful in the full flush of the sunlight. “I don't know what I'd ever do if I saw someone I love in a wheelchair because of some goddamn war. I've seen him around most of my life. Running and playing and horsing around. And now look at him. And for no good reason at all.”

She started to cry, and I could see she was embarrassed. She managed a smile. “Listen to me, Sam, I sound just like you.”

Then she leaned down and put her face into my neck and she slid her arms around me. Her skin was warm from her tears. She stayed like that for a while. Long enough for me to have the same pictures of Mike she had, of him running and jumping and horsing around.

Things he would never be able to do again.

And for no good reason at all.

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copyright © 2009 by Ed Gorman

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