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That summer seemed to drag on forever. He just continued in his state of limbo, working and having lunch with Trina a couple of times a week. Then she dropped a bomb on him. She got engaged. He wasn’t sure if Trina would have let this interfere with their relationship. He didn’t wait to find out. He knew that it was high time for him to be a man and stand up on his own. She was headed back to MSU for a final semester, so he decided it was a perfect time for him to pull back.

The last time Lovelle had made such an abrupt change in their relationship he hadn’t even considered what he was doing. He had put their friendship on a distant back burner while he concentrated on Katie. He had stupidly failed to realize how that would hurt her, and nearly lost her friendship as a result. This time he decided that, as much as she might protest, he would just tell her what he was doing, and give her no say in the matter.

“Curtis, you’re being ridiculous,” she said sternly. “Paul doesn’t care how close we are.”

“No, Trina,” he mocked her tone, “Paul loves you, and he won’t tell you to stop being the caring person you are because that’s why he loves you. But I can guarantee you he would be tickled to see me disappear.”

“You don’t even know him. He’s not the jealous type.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that. Just because he trusts you that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get jealous. People can be jealous of a lot of things, including the affection you share with a friend.”

They went back and forth like that for a little while until he finally insisted, “This isn’t up to you. I’ve made up my mind. I was hoping you’d understand. But, you can’t make me see you any more than I want to.”

“Maybe I don’t need to see you at all!” She virtually spat the words at him.

“Trina,” he softened his tone, “You know that’s not what I want. I just want you guys to be happy. I’m not gonna let myself get in the way of that. All I’m saying is that I need to stop leaning on you so much. You both deserve that.”

Trina sighed in resignation. She cried and hugged him, which made him cry. It seemed to him to be stupid, because they weren’t saying goodbye. She was making way too much out of this whole thing. But a woman crying always upset him.

It would be a couple of months later that Paul would pull him aside and tell him that he really didn’t have to do what he did, but, that he really admired Lovelle for putting her happiness ahead of his own. Lovelle took that to mean that he really did need to do it, but, Paul didn’t think it would be good form to tell him so.

So Trina went back to school and Lovelle went from
thinking
that he was lonely, to finding out what lonely really was. He needed a friend, or girlfriend, badly, only he just couldn’t bring himself to make that move. Despite more than a year with no contact, he was not ready to give up all hope for a future with Katie.

CHAPTE
R
NINE

It was September again when he finally heard from the Bureau. He had been granted an interview and within days he was in Washington, DC, sitting across the desk from possibly the most serious man he had ever met, Special Agent Ripley. Ripley wasted no time in informing him how fortunate he was.

“Do you know how long it has been since I interviewed anyone who’s resume was as thin as yours?” he asked rhetorically. “Four years.” He paused, apparently for dramatic effect, but Lovelle took it to mean that he expected a reply.

“I really appreciate the opportunity.”

“If you didn’t speak Arabic we wouldn’t be talking right now.” Ripley continued as if Lovelle hadn’t even spoken.

Over the next hour and a half the agent grilled Lovelle more like he was a suspect than a prospect, periodically reminding him of how under qualified he really was. Lovelle couldn’t help thinking that the only thing missing from the process was a bright hot light shining in his eyes.

He went home all but certain that he wouldn’t hear from them again. He immediately began working on plan B. He had already done research into several police departments which were desperate enough for officers that they were recruiting out of state. He had to make some choices about where he might want to live, and about which departments would offer the best opportunity.

Despite the certainty he felt about his failure to get into the Bureau, he decided to wait a couple of weeks before he would start applying. Right before his self-imposed deadline had passed, he got his second interview. He was so excited that he was almost giddy. He figured that if he could make it past Agent Ripley, then it should be downhill from there. So off he went to DC again.

He found himself in a carbon copy of Ripley’s office, sitting across from a similarly stern looking man. This time, however, he was confident he could handle whatever was thrown at him.

To his surprise, Special Agent Barnum was completely cordial. For forty-five minutes they had a pleasant conversation about his background and his aspirations. Then Barnum got to the meat of the matter.

“So I gather Agent Ripley gave you quite a hard time?”

“No, he was just doing what he had to do.” Lovelle replied, trying to seem more self-confidant than he actually was.

“Yes, well, it’s easy enough to say that now, but I’m sure you didn’t feel quite the same way when you left here that day.”

“It was pretty trying.” Lovelle conceded, “But, I’m not exactly applying for dog catcher either.”

Barnum smiled. “True enough.” He set down some papers he had been shuffling through, but not really looking at. “With your atypical profile there is one thing that Agent Ripley had to determine, your commitment to doing this job. If he could shake your confidence in your ability, or make you waver in your determination to join the Bureau, then you wouldn’t be ready. But he was very impressed with you and your maturity, and so am I. I think you’ll make a fine agent.”

So there it was. All Lovelle needed to do was pass his drug screen and background check and he was in. It was the first time he had felt any sense of having control over his life since the day when Alicia came to visit him at school and he found out just exactly what kind of mess he had made of things. He was excited, and not simply because one of his plans was actually coming together. He genuinely wanted to be an FBI agent. He felt like he could make a difference in the world. Even if he failed to prevent September 11 from occurring, he could still do some good. And he felt a sense of accomplishment. This was an honest achievement that didn't come from having some foreknowledge or other undue advantage from having been on the merry-go-round before. Being thirty something didn’t automatically get him good grades in college the way it had in high school. He had worked hard.

Lovelle shared his good news with Trina before anyone else, even before he had got back to his hotel. She showed her appreciation of this gesture later by visiting him the first day she arrived home from school at the Thanksgiving break. They hadn’t spoken very much over that semester, and he had seen her on only one of her weekend trips home. And even though she never vocally expressed her discontent after their conversation, it had been clear right from the outset that there was a chill in their relationship. But now she was about to graduate, she would be back home to stay, and they were good again.

With two areas of his life seemingly now under control, Lovelle finally felt like he could talk to Katie again. The good news provided him with an excuse to call, and his renewed sense of control in his life provided him with the ability. Still, when it came time to make the call he was nervous. As the phone rang his palms began to sweat. “Hello,” she answered.

“Hi. Katie?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Hi… this is Curtis.” he said tentatively, already wondering if this was a mistake.

“I know who it is. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“Then it’s okay?”

“Of course. I told Trina it was.”

“I know, but you might have said it because you’re too nice to tell me to get lost even though that’s what you wanted me to do.”

“Well, that’s not why I said it. I said it because you’re my friend. I really missed you. I can’t believe you made me wait over a year to talk to you.” Her tone lightened, and so did his tension.

They talked for two hours that afternoon. They caught up on just about everything. The only subject they didn’t touch was his feelings for her. They scrupulously skirted that topic, even as it hung over their conversation like a black cloud. At the end he promised her he wouldn’t wait so long to call again, and she informed him that she wouldn’t let him.

That was the day Lovelle really started to let go of the past. He started to believe that time really does heal wounds, if you let it. And although he would never stop loving Katie, or stop grieving for his son, he could get on with life and find new people and things to be happy with. He realized that it was his obsession with retroactively preventing those wounds that was keeping them open. And it was his failure to control his future by sheer force of will that was now letting them heal. By giving in and acknowledging to himself that only dumb luck could hope to return these things to him, he was able to find some peace in the face of his loss.

Other than the brief period after he started working with Katie, this was the best he had felt since he had begun this new life. Unfortunately it didn’t last. In early December he got a call. His background check results were in, and he was out. It turned out that one of his cousins, someone Lovelle wouldn’t recognize if he walked right through his front door, had disqualified Lovelle. A cousin, who had been completely out of touch with their family since the man’s mother divorced Lovelle’ uncle and moved with their two kids to Idaho, was wanted by the FBI. He had gotten into some trouble as a young man and spent some time in prison. There, he had learned a trade and made some new friends, and now he was a counterfeiter for the Aryan Nation. It was a double strike in the Fed’s book, and enough to keep Lovelle from getting the top secret clearance required to be an agent.

“Sonofa…,” he yelled after he hung up the phone. “That Sonofa…,” he yelled again as he threw the cordless phone against his bedroom wall, spilling its guts onto the floor. He stood there for a long moment seething. He was literally shaking with anger. Then his mother burst in.

“Are you all right?”

She had never seen him like that. He was hardly prone to emotional outbursts, and he was especially controlled in the presence of his parents. He explained the situation and his mother quickly joined him in cursing her nephew. She attempted to console him, but this commiseration was about as close as she could get. If anyone ever wondered where his detached and logical manner of dealing with problems came from, they only needed to look at his mom. She was in no way lacking in compassion. His parents could be both kind and generous. But no one in his family could be accused of wearing their emotions on their sleeves.

What Lovelle needed was Katie or Trina. But he wouldn’t lay this at either of their doorsteps. This was a burden he would have to bear alone, at least for a while. Eventually everyone would find out. But until he had his own emotions stabilized he was determined to keep it to himself.

Over the next few weeks he struggled with the question of what to do next. At times he was squarely focused on finding another way to stop the September 11 attacks. But at others he wanted to embrace the notion that he had failed. That he had been released from his obligation. It gave him a sense of relief the same way finally giving up on Katie had. Life could be so much easier if he didn’t place these burdens on himself. Instead of being obliged by his knowledge of events to come, he might actually use them to his advantage. For a time he thought about moving to Las Vegas and becoming a professional sports book gambler. He even briefly pondered the possibility of making a few choice public predictions and becoming a professional psychic.

As tempting as those prospects were, he just couldn’t abandon his quest. For one thing, there was still plenty of time for him to formulate and enact a second plan. And for another, this had never been about his happiness. This was about doing the right thing, even when it was the hard thing to do. It was bigger than him.

But what could he do? He had to go back to the drawing board. He needed a completely new strategy. He considered continuing on with his applications to the police departments. But that didn’t seem like the wisest course. Sure, he might do some good in that capacity, but it would hardly have put him in a position to stop the hijackers. The military crossed his mind. Military Intelligence might give him the opportunity he needed, but, while entering the armed forces would be simple, landing that particular job could prove rather tricky, or impossible if another security clearance check were required.

Other than being in either an intelligence, or a counter-intelligence position, he could not imagine another career path which could directly lead to the terrorists. So he started thinking about who else could have done something to preempt the attack. His list was mostly composed of politicians and other government officials. People who had pursued policies that helped Bin Laden expand his power base; or who had missed opportunities to seize him. People who set up the airport security rules and procedures. And ones who had failed to heed warnings about suspicious activities and individuals.

And then he realized that he was concentrating on the people that he considered to bear the blame, when there might be a whole host of people who were in no way responsible, but who might have been well positioned to do something if only they had known what he knew. This might include baggage screeners, customs and immigration officers, flight instructors, or other random individuals who would have contact with either the hijackers or the plotters. He wondered if he might be able to position himself to deal with the terrorists directly, if only he could remember their names and faces. But, that was his problem. He had always struggled with the recollection of details. Names, faces, and dates were not his strong suit.

He remembered Mohamed Atta, and the “shoe bomber” Richard Reid. With that and a smattering of other facts, he was confident that he could piece the rest together if he had the authority and the resources of the FBI. But without that, he wasn’t sure what he could do.

He could attempt to get the information into the hands of people who did have the resources to deal with it. But, without more detail he couldn’t imagine his somewhat vague recollection of events leading up to that day would carry much weight. As he remembered it, there were numerous warnings from people of substantial credibility, yet nothing was done. He could hardly imagine how he might hope to influence anyone.

Lovelle let things drag on for a while without making any kind of decision. Eventually friends and family took notice. His parents were concerned that he was letting the FBI rejection drag him down. They just wanted to see him do something that looked like a positive career step. And Trina and Katie had both come to suspect that things had fallen through, and were just wondering when he would tell them. They would tell him so when he finally confided in them.

Both women were typically sympathetic and insisted that there was no reason to spare them from his misery. They insisted that was what friends were for. He responded to both of them that he felt like all the grief was flowing in one direction, and he was tired of being a broken record.

“You’re not a broken record,” Trina teased, “You always find something new to be depressed about.”

“Well, I’m glad my misfortune amuses you,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to find something else to fail at so you won’t get too bored.”

“Shut up!” she cocked her head, doing her best valley girl imitation.

She wouldn’t let him go that day until they had talked through the situation. This was unusually awkward, since, for once, Trina really couldn’t help him. Unlike in the past, he really couldn’t let her get to the crux of the matter. Previously, although he had to leave out certain details, his troubles were either matters which were relevant only to the life he was currently living, or matters of the heart where he had always been able to create a fiction which could explain why he was forlorn, such as the mystery girl, or just simply that he had fallen head over heals for “Katie from work”. But, this time there was no way to express how important it was that he join the FBI, and that no other sort of law enforcement or public service could substitute. He knew it would seem like an odd obsession if he tried to explain it in any other way than the truth, so he didn’t express the sentiment at all. What Trina was left with was someone who didn’t seem capable of getting past what should have been a small setback.