05 April 2005 – Arapahoe Road, Boulder, Colorado

The number of people attending the wake surprised Jeff and DJ. It seemed a second group of roughly the same size joined the entire group from yesterday. Once people started walking past the closed casket, the line didn’t stop moving for almost an hour.

“I’m shocked by how many folks turned out,” Gene Krebs muttered to Jeff. Two of his men flanked the casket as people filed by.

“DJ seems to know most of them, too. That’s probably the main reason there’s such a good turn out.”

“Hopefully there’s a decent turnout for the service tomorrow, too.”

Jeff grunted in assent.

An hour later Jeff rode back to DJ’s home town of Niwot with DJ’s family. While Mr. and Mrs. Schultheis visited DJ at Walter Reed soon after his return from Afghanistan, his brother and sisters hadn’t been able to. At sixteen, fifteen, thirteen and eleven, they’d just started back to school when DJ was wounded. Jeff caught sight of the other Schultheis kids mobbing their older brother yesterday at the funeral home out of the corner of his eye. They’d last seen him at Christmas.

“DJ says you know Kelsey Goodacre!” chirped thirteen year-old Yvonne from the back seat of the Suburban.

“Well, it’s fairer to say I know her guitarist, George Adler, Yvonne. I’ve only met Ms. Goodacre once.”

“Still!” she breathed. Her eleven year-old brother, Herman, snorted.

“Do you not like Ms. Goodacre’s music, Herman?”

“It’s okay, Mr. Knox, but Vonni plays it so loud!”

DJ told Jeff that Herman frequently felt overwhelmed by the estrogen level in the Schultheis household, especially from his three teenaged sisters.

“It’s Jeff, Herman,” he reminded the youngster. “And Avalanche games don’t get loud?”

“Yeah, but I like those!” Jeff smiled at the boy. Herman was a hockey nut. He’d have to keep that in mind.

After dinner DJ and Jeff hopped into DJ’s car and drove north, into the neighboring town of Longmont, to meet the soldiers from 12th Group. They walked into the bar DJ recommended as the meeting place near the state highway. The place looked friendly enough, and had more than enough space for the expected number of guests. In addition to the SF soldiers, the leadership from both the VFW and American Legion posts would be there. They all wanted to make sure every detail would be ready for tomorrow’s funeral.

DJ sat with his back to the bar during the discussion.

“Does anyone need anything from the bar?” he asked an hour into the meeting.

When no one else said they wanted anything, he hopped up and walked over using his crutch. The pretty young bartender smiled at him when he approached. She had a friendly smile.

“May I have a cola please, miss?”

“Coming right up!” she said before reaching down for a glass.

DJ’s eyes narrowed when he heard her voice. He searched his memory, trying to place it.

“Penny?”

The bartender’s smile widened.

“Hi, DJ.”

“Wow, Penny, you look great! And those glasses are much more flattering than the ones you had in high school!”

“Tell me about it,” Penelope Price grumbled. “I know what you folks in the military call my old frames! BCGs, RPGs – both descriptions fit!”

DJ shared a laugh with the young lady. “I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but what are you doing working here? You were headed for a career in the graphic arts, if I remember correctly.”

Penny smiled. “You remember correctly. I work at a design firm in Boulder full-time. You remember hearing about my photographic memory in high school, right? I was bored one night during freshman year in college and on a whim I grabbed a mixology book from a nearby bookstore. I read the whole thing. Well, all those recipes stuck in my head. At a friend’s party later during college I helped someone make a drink they wanted.

“One thing led to another and I wound up being the unofficial bartender that night. My friend mentioned me to her uncle who owns this place. He just had a bartender quit on him and needed help. He gave me a tryout and hired me at the end of that night two years ago. It’s really helped me out of my shell. I couldn’t even look at my boss, Mr. Farley, when I started. I work here two or three nights a week. I like it.”

“I’m glad tonight was one of your nights, then,” DJ smiled.

Penny blushed. “I overheard one of the guys from the Legion post over the weekend talking about what you would be doing for your friend. I swapped with someone so I could be here during your meeting tonight.”

“Why, Penny?” DJ asked with a crooked smile.

“DJ, what was my nickname in high school?”

“‘Pretty Penny,’ why?”

“You called me that. You were the only one who was nice to me then. Everyone else called me ‘Porky Penny.’”

“Everyone else was an idiot, Penny! So you weren’t some size zero toothpick. Except for those birth control glasses you wore you were a good looking girl then, and you’re even more so now!”

“Then how come you didn’t ask me out when we were in high school?” she asked with some anger in her voice. “Geez, I had the biggest crush on you!”

DJ looked like he’d been slapped. His mind whirled as he tried to recall their interactions during high school.

“Penny,” he whispered, “I’m sorry, but every time I said hi to you you’d reply, and then you’d clam up and run away! I guess I’m an idiot. I didn’t recognize that for what it was until right now.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Penny reached over the bar, grabbed DJ by the shirt, pulled him in, and kissed him. A cheer rose from the veterans, soldiers, and other bar patrons. The pair separated, both blushing. “I’ll meet you at the funeral home at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, DJ.”

DJ nodded and walked back to the table holding his drink. Jeff clapped him on the shoulder once he sat down.

“Strong work, Ranger!”

Penny waited in her car at the funeral home for DJ to arrive the next morning. She clung to DJ’s arm when he led her over to his family, looking like a skittish deer. Between his mother and his sisters Ellie, Johnna, and Yvonne they soon put her at ease. They considered anyone outside of their family who could accept DJ as he was now, to be an instant superstar.

During the reception which followed the funeral, Penny continued to cling to DJ. DJ loved how much more at ease she was as compared to while they were in school together, despite her nervousness, and how much more freely she smiled at people. Her smile lit up the room.

Penny became a constant presence at the Schultheis home during the two days before DJ and Jeff returned to Washington. Tears tracked down her face while she hugged DJ goodbye at the FBO on the morning of their departure.

“I’m coming back you know?” DJ asked in a gentle voice.

“I don’t want you to go!” she sniffed. “I finally found the nerve to show you how I feel about you and you’re running away!”

“There’s not much running in my future, Penny,” DJ joked. “If there was, the only direction I’d be running is toward you. I’ll be back in a few months, no more than six. I have a new source of motivation.” He leaned in and kissed her lovingly. “I’ll call you tonight.” Penny nodded.

Harriet Schultheis rubbed Penny’s back while they watched DJ and his friend walk to the plane.

“He’ll be home before you know it, Penny.” She led the young woman back to their car.

Jeff looked across the aisle at DJ. The younger man stared out the window as he’d been for the hour since takeoff. Jeff knew what was going through his friend’s mind.

“You okay, DJ?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. He turned away from the window. “Does it hurt like this when you leave Keiko, Jeff?”

“It hurts, that’s for sure. I imagine it’s similar to what you’re feeling: it’s like part of you is missing, right?” DJ nodded in confirmation. “You’re in love with the girl already, bro, or at least in serious like with her. Have you always felt this way about her?”

“No, I can’t say I felt like this about her when we were younger. Penny’s a year younger than me, and we never had the conversations back then that we’ve been having over the past few days. I’ve talked with her more in the past three days than the three years we were in high school together. She’s right. She was a little heavier in those days than she is now, and her glasses were atrocious, but if our classmates could see her now...”

“Like you said, you’ve got up to six more months of rehab before Walter Reed will discharge you. I don’t think I have to tell you to keep in touch with her, or to be completely honest with her. Did you tell her about your ex and what she did to you?” DJ nodded to say he had. “Then Penny knows the pain your ex caused you when you were at your most vulnerable. Your family looks like they’ve already welcomed her, so the hard part’s over.”

“Yeah,” DJ sighed with a smile on his face. “I think Ellie’s gonna be really disappointed in her big brother if he screws this one up.”

“As much as you love your family, DJ this is for you, and not them. You have to find your happiness and let your family find their own.”

DJ nodded again. “Speaking of happiness, if you know who donated the use of this plane, please thank them for me. I hope Dom will rest easier now that his final wishes have been carried out.”

“I think he will,” Jeff replied. “And you’re welcome.”

“Huh?”

“You said to thank the person who donated the use of this plane. That person is telling you that you’re more than welcome.”

“Wait, you paid for this plane? This must have cost you a fortune!”

“A few thousand bucks, Deej, that’s all. I’m assuming you know what Neptune’s Forge is?”

“You know my dad owns an electrical supply business and he’s a distributor for them. What do they have to do with the plane, though?”

“I own fifteen percent of Neptune’s Forge.” DJ’s eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped. “Their principal inventor and CEO, Sacha Cohen, was one of my mom’s first math students when she started teaching. I invested just after Sacha started the company, and I’ve kept investing. The cost of this charter isn’t even one one-thousandth of one percent of what I expect this year’s dividends to be.”

DJ finally found his voice. “What the hell are you doing in the Army if you’ve got that kind of money?”

“DJ, do you seriously think Sacha would be allowed to run that kind of company if the people who attacked us in 2001 took over this country? What would happen to your mom? To Ellie, Johnna, and Yvonne? I have a wife and a daughter to think about, plus all the other women I know among my relatives, friends, and coworkers. Do you think notations in a bank ledger somewhere would matter at all in that case?”

DJ didn’t answer and looked lost in thought. They spent the rest of the two-hour return flight – thank heavens for a tail wind – laughing at stories from their time together in 2d Platoon. Their banter continued during the drive back to Walter Reed to drop DJ off. Jeff carried DJ’s things to his room. DJ used both his crutches when tired.

“Be safe heading home, Jeff,” DJ said while hugging his friend goodbye. “Are you going to stay the night at a hotel before you go?”

“No, Deej. It’s only noon here, and I think I can beat rush hour traffic along the way if I head home now. I miss my family, and it will give me a day off with them at home tomorrow before I report to 10th Group Monday morning.”

“I think you’re nuts, but I can see your point. Keep in touch, Doc.”

“Count on it.”

Colonel Brubaker and his command sergeant major sat down with Jeff Monday morning to outline his role and his responsibilities. He would coordinate with multiple people – the entire Group staff, actually – as well as the commander’s office at Donovan Army Community Hospital to ensure the SF medics received the proper supplies, training, and resources needed to do their jobs in garrison and down range. He’d report directly to the group’s sergeant major.

Jeff sat in the small office they assigned him, planning an approach to his new job. He looked up when someone knocked on the door. Jeff didn’t recognize the clean-shaven sergeant smirking at him until he read the man’s nametape. Jeff’s gaze returned to his desktop while his shoulders slumped.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he muttered before looking back at his visitor. “I ain’t shed of you yet?”

“Don’t you know I’m the gift that keeps on giving?”

“Seeing you again is giving me chest pain, that’s for sure. Please tell me this job wasn’t your idea.”

“It was, why?”

“Mick, the last time you arranged a job for my sorry ass it didn’t turn out so good for me.”

“What’s the big deal?”

“I got blown up!”

“It looks like you got better...”

“Oh, thank you very much, John Cleese. Roman Harvik and Captain DeFusco might have something to say about that. Well, the captain will have to wait until he wakes up to chew your ass.”

“Did you get a chance to visit the captain while you were down at Walter Reed?”

“I tried to. He was unconscious both times I checked on him, both when I got down there and before I came back. The second time his wife was in his room. I didn’t want to bother her while she visited her husband.”

“Mrs. D is a nice lady. She would liked to have met you.”

“Maybe there’ll be a chance later on. Medically the captain’s okay-ish. His arm’s healed, the swelling in his brain’s gone way down, and that collapsed lung is back to normal. Once he wakes up he’ll need lots of surgeries, and a lot of PT and OT to get back in shape so he can get on with life.”

“Here’s hoping he does.”

“So, Mick, what are you doing here and not at Fort Carson?”

“Before I rehabbed and could get myself back into fighting trim they already filled my spot in the team. SOCOM gave me the choice to either join another team there or transfer out. I haven’t been back east in a while, so when I heard there was an open 18-Delta spot here I jumped at it.”

“Does this base feel small after the others you’ve been posted to?”

“Sure, but how can a base shoehorned between four established towns compete with others which could easily spread out? When they established Devens here in 1917 they still used horses for horsepower, not engines, so they didn’t need that much space – unless they were doing artillery training. Plus, we didn’t always stay on-post for our training in the 12th any more than your Ranger battalion did. We can fly out of here or Hanscom and be dropped over the training areas on South Post, Fort Drum in upstate New York, Camp Edwards down the Cape, or at any one of a bunch of other places. It’s only an hour or two drive to my parents’ house in Dover, too, depending on traffic. Not too many places have that going for them.”

“What are you doing for lunch?”

“Eating.”

“I see your wit wasn’t located in your appendix. Is the NCO Club here any good? You can make up for your transgressions by buying me lunch.”

Jeff’s computer and software skills allowed him to make a presentation to the sergeant major within two weeks of being assigned to 10th Group. He developed a new way to track available medical supplies, to account for training completed and anything still needed by 18-Deltas, and to list the training opportunities available. His systems were easy to use, understand, and keep updated.

“And this only took you two weeks?” asked Command Sergeant Major Nolan Edwards.

Jeff shrugged. “I studied the tasks that you and the colonel gave me for almost a week before I started putting this together, Sergeant Major. The software is stuff we already had on the computer and, as long as the Army keeps it updated, it should work for a good while. The trick will be to keep the databases current. Keeping track of the training opportunities coming up will be a headache, but not a bad one. A major problem would be someone falling behind on this.”

“Well, excellent work on this, Knox. I’ll let you know if the colonel wants a briefing on it.” Edwards smiled. “You want a chance to get out of the office and creep around the woods a bit?”

“You have fun scaring the poor kiddies again?” Mickey Kasperson asked six weeks later.

“Hey, they’re the ones who wanted to be Army lieutenants and joined ROTC. You pays your nickel and you takes your chances on that one. Sar’Major Edwards threw me a bone when he asked if I wanted to help out the OPFOR when the kids come here to train. That’s just plain fun, right there!”

Mickey chuckled as Jeff drove them to his house. Mickey’s car was in the shop – again – so Keiko and Jeff offered him the use of Jeff’s pickup for the weekend. He had to ‘endure’ dinner with the Knox family first.

“I think the word’s out that a disgruntled doc has taken up permanent residence on that training lane. The cadre from the area ROTC programs and the pre-camp like my way of telling the cadets to wake up and smell the coffee.”

“Yeah, any thought they were just going to skate into Advanced Camp went right out the window your first time playing OPFOR. You know, it’s kinda weird seeing you wearing the old woodland BDUs and not the newer OCP pattern the Army rolled out last year.”

“I still had my old gear and uniforms, so it was easier than trying to figure out how to modify the OCP stuff to look different enough. The colonel also okayed my temporary uniform deviations. I’m glad I found that MOLLE vest again! I got too used to having stuff right there when I reached for it. Going back to the web gear would have been a major step back.”

Jeff turned onto the gravel access road leading to the paved portion of his driveway. When the trees thinned out he could see someone sitting on his front steps. His awareness level kicked into high gear. Keiko and the kids should still be at the dojo this afternoon. He scanned the rest of his property. Mickey picked up on his friend’s increased attentiveness.

“What’s up, Jeff?”

“There’s someone on the porch. No one should be home.”

Jeff left the truck parked in the driveway instead of opening the garage and giving whomever another potential way into his house. The pair approached the person huddled on his front steps.

“Can I help you?”

Once again, seeing Mishka Gupta’s face surprised him.

“Hi, Jeff.”

“Mish? Are you okay?” He saw tears on her face. He knelt in front of her so she wouldn’t have to look up at him.

“Sorry, I’ve been waiting for your family for a few hours. I was afraid I’d come all this way and they were on vacation or something.” She wiped her face. “Hey, wait a minute, what are you doing home? I thought your battalion was scheduled to be deployed until June or July?”

“I got clipped at the end of October. I was rehabbing here until March, and then got assigned to the 10th Special Forces here at Devens when the Rangers cut me loose.” He waved at Mickey, who stood behind him. “This is my friend Mickey Kasperson from the 10th. He’s the reason I got hurt.”

“You got hurt because you got in the way of an RPG, wise guy.”

“Ignore him,” Jeff muttered to Mish. “Mickey, this is a friend from AIT, Mishka Gupta.”

“A pleasure, Miss Gupta. Your being here will moderate the pain of being in Jeff’s presence until his family returns.”

“You keep flapping your gums and you’re not getting dinner.”

“That’s cruel. I like Keiko’s cooking.”

“Who said anything about Keiko cooking dinner?”

Mickey looked frightened. He turned to Mish.

“We should run. I know some good restaurants nearby.”

Mish giggled. “I should at least stay for dinner if I’m going to beg a place to stay from this evening’s chef.”

“Hear that? I’m a chef!”

“Oh you’re a few things I can’t say in front of a lady, but ‘chef’ isn’t one of them.”

Jeff disarmed the alarm and waved his guests inside.

“Get inside, cretin,” he said to Mickey. Mish laughed at their antics.

“It’s like being back at Fort Sam. I can see you joking with Terrance in my head while I listen to you two!”

“Terrance,” Jeff chuckled. “I need to call him. He’s at Fort Lewis, and scheduled to ETS at the end of July. If you can stand it, Mish, can you keep this guy company while I get cleaned up?”

“Why are you all camo’ed up in the wrong camo, if I may ask?”

“He’s been torturing ROTC cadets as part of an OPFOR unit all day. Keeps his skills sharp for when he joins us in the field.” Mish raised an eyebrow at Mickey. “I’ll fill you in while he washes behind his ears. Of course, I should turn off the hot water while he’s in there.”

“Won’t work, fella,” Jeff commented while walking away. “Separate tankless hot water heater for each floor.”

“Dammit!” Jeff heard while he climbed the stairs.

When he came back down, Mickey had Mish giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Do you guys need anything to eat or drink?”

“I already raided the fridge for the young lady, Jeff. You’re not a very good host, leaving your guests to wither away while you attend to yourself.”

“No tacos al pastor for you, pal. And you can walk home.”

“You’re making al pastor?” Mish asked with a wide smile. “I love that! I haven’t had any since we left San Antonio!” She cast a glance at Mickey. “Wait, do you eat pork?”

“‘Observant’ is not a word one needs to use when describing Sergeant Kasperson here.”

Mickey smiled at Mish. “The best description of me I’ve heard in regards to my father’s faith, is that I’m ‘Jew-ish.’ Mom’s Catholic, so we loosely celebrated both while I grew up. I don’t get cranked up over either.”

“Yeah,” Mish said sadly. “Mom freaked out when she caught me eating a burger after I got out.”

“The whole sacred cow t-hing?” Mickey asked while they followed Jeff into the kitchen.

“Among other things,” she grumbled. “Mom and Dad expected me to buy into the whole traditional Indian culture after I ETS’ed: stay at home, be a good little wife to the grease-ball they’d picked out for me, and pump out grandkids. It’s like they wanted me to forget all about joining the Army and deploying! Dammit, I’m proud of my service!” She sighed.

“It all came to a head three days ago. Mom and I had a pretty good screaming match that night, before Dad came home from work. Then, he laid out his ‘expectations’ when he got home. I packed my duffel the next morning, walked to the bus station, and came here. I took a taxi here from the bus station in Fitchburg. I should have remembered that Keiko is a teacher and timed my arrival better.”

“She and the kids are at the dojo tonight, Mish. They won’t be home until about 1730.” Jeff finished building the standing al pastor skewer and slid it into the oven. “Either of you want a beer?”

Keiko and the kids found Jeff and his friends on the back patio when they came home. Each of them were already two or three beers in and laughing up a storm.

“Hey, my Keiko-chan!”

“Hello, Jeffrey. Michael.” Keiko cocked her head. “Mishka? How are you?”

“Well, honey, that’s what we’re trying to help her figure out. Mish is kinda on the outs with her folks at the moment. She’s gonna crash in our guest room like I told you I offered when I ran into her in Afghanistan.”

“Of course. Mishka, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Jeffrey, I will go get our little dragons – and myself – cleaned up before dinner.”

“I forgot how nice your wife is, Jeff,” Mish sighed as Keiko ushered the kids upstairs. “Do you always call your children ‘dragons?’”

Jeff smiled. “Little dragons is a common term for kids in youth karate programs, though we call Sabrina ‘our little ninja’ when we talk about her karate skills.”

“How old are they now?”

“The twins are eight. Sabrina will turn seven in about a month.”

An hour later laughter rippled around the dinner table. Uncle Mickey made silly faces and ate like an ogre. Mish covered her mouth while she laughed. Keiko rolled her eyes.

“It is like having five children when Michael comes to visit,” she sighed to Mish while they cleared the table.

“Your kids really seem to like him,” Mish commented while leaning against the counter. Keiko gently refused her offer to help clean up further. Jeff already cleaned what he used to make dinner, so Keiko only needed to load the dishwasher.

“They genuinely do,” Keiko admitted. “To say I was somewhat cold to Michael when Jeffrey first brought him home a month ago would be an understatement. The children, however, harbored him no ill will and attached themselves to him immediately. For his part, Michael was reading to them within a half-hour of walking through the door. He uses them as stand-ins for his nieces and nephews.”

“Why would you harbor him any ill will?”

“It was Michael’s suggestion to his team commander which put Jeffrey in a position to be injured.”

“Jeff mentioned something about being wounded. Mickey said something about an RPG?”

Keiko told Mish the story while they sat at the kitchen table.

“They were serious about that?”

“Very serious, Mishka. My heart about stopped when a sergeant from the casualty assistance office at Fort Benning called here. We are lucky to have my parents living next door. I dropped the children off to them within minutes of receiving the call and was on a plane to Germany within hours.” Keiko brushed a tear away.

“The scariest thing in the world is seeing someone you love lying helpless in a hospital bed, especially when the only way you’ve ever known him is as a vital, healthy man.” She reached over and held Mish’s hand. “I know of the loss of your friend, Mishka, and I do not mean to discount her death in any way. I mention Jeff’s condition when I arrived at Landstuhl only because it was the most difficult and frightening moment of my life.

“Whatever you are experiencing in your dispute with your parents is difficult, yes, but I cannot imagine it is more difficult than losing your friend. Your parents have understandably been a major part of your life thus far, but you must balance honoring your heritage and them with living life in your way. We are raising our children to speak Japanese as I did while growing up. Our sons each carry one of my brother’s given names. And we celebrate Jeff’s Greek and Irish roots. We include our families in our lives while we maintain our own individuality.

“Have you spoken to your parents since your departure from home?” Mish shook her head. “As a parent, I know I would be worried beyond belief had I not heard from one of my children for nearly forty-eight hours after they vanished.”

“I wouldn’t know what to say to them right now, Keiko,” Mish whispered. “I don’t know how I feel about all this just yet.”

“And you do not need to at this point, Mishka. Tell them you are safe with friends, and you will call them back in a few days once you have had time to think about the situation.”

“You’re right, Keiko,” Mish sighed. “I’ll call them.” She reached for her phone but Keiko stopped her.

“Let us get you situated in the guest room, and you can call them from there once you are settled.”

“Are you feeling better after a night’s sleep, Mish?” Jeff asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

“I am, Jeff, thanks to you and your family,” she replied while smiling at the Knox kids with her in the back of the Suburban.

“Like we told you last night, the guest room is yours for as long as you need it. We’ll get you a key when we get home.”

Mish still couldn’t believe her friend’s generosity. She hoped he spoke the truth before she left Afghanistan. In fact she gambled he had by spending two days on a bus to get to his house. She knew of many folks who were told “whatever you need” by their friends, only to have those friends balk when the time came. She resolved not to take advantage of this family.

“Do you think your family is going to cause any problems?”

“I doubt it. Mom got the message loud and clear when I left. And I laid down the law – spelling out my expectations – over the phone to my father last night. They can let me go my own way, or not have a daughter any longer.” She took a deep breath. “So what are we doing here?” Mish asked as they pulled into a parking lot.

“Well, when one visits a car lot, Mish, one is usually looking to buy a car.”

“I see your sarcasm wasn’t affected when you were wounded,” Mish chuckled.

The six of them barely stepped out of the car before a salesman oozed up to them. He was every bad stereotype of a car salesman rolled into one: slicked-back dyed hair, disingenuous charm, flashy suit, and a too-ready smile.

“Hey, how are we today?” he schmoozed while shaking Jeff’s hand. The handshake was too forceful, as Jeff feared it would be, and the salesman’s clammy grip made his skin crawl.

We? “Good. You?” he replied in a monotone. Jeff only asked in return because that’s the way he was raised.

“Excellent, excellent! What can I help you with?”

“I’m here to look at another Suburban.”

“Great!” the man enthused, seeing the dollar signs of his commission in his head. He put a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Let’s start over here!”

Jeff didn’t budge when the salesman tried to steer him down the line of cars. He glanced at his shoulder, pointedly removed the salesman’s hand, and looked back at him.

“Let me rephrase that: I’m here to look at a specific Suburban.” Jeff rattled off the stock number of the vehicle he saw online and its trim level. Mr. Slick Salesman frowned.

“Well, I’m sure that’s a nice vehicle, but let me show you one that’s a step up from that.”

“You can go now.”

Mish tried to stifle a giggle but Jeff heard her soft snort.

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘You can go now,’ Slick. I wanted to see a specific vehicle with specific trim and options. You ignored me. I’ll find it myself before I let you ignore me again. Adios.” The man walked away in bewilderment.

“Well, that was fun!” Mish chirped. “Can we do that again?”

“Again, Dad! Again!” the kids echoed while Keiko covered her laugh.

Jeff shook his head. Looking around the lot, he spotted a young salesman standing nearby but not approaching anyone. Jeff watched the man offer his help to customers if they drifted near, but otherwise he left them alone. Jeff walked over to the young man.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning. Jeff Knox,” he said while offering his hand.

“Jacob Simsbury, Mr. Knox. Your family?”

“Yes. My wife Keiko, our three kids Alex, Ryan, and Sabrina, and our friend Mishka Gupta.”

“Very nice to meet all of you. How may I help you today, sir?”

“I’m looking for a Suburban I saw online.” Jeff repeated the car’s information. Jacob looked down the line of Suburbans.

“With that information at hand the car should be easy to find, sir. Let’s start over here.”

Jeff and his family inspected the exterior of the car while Jacob retrieved the keys. To Jeff’s eye there were no major differences between Keiko’s Suburban and this new one. The kids pronounced it acceptable. He also saw the looks that Mish and Jacob traded while he checked the car.

“Looks good, Jacob. We’ll take it.”

“Yes, sir. Will you need financing?”

“No, cash sale.”

“Certainly, sir. Do you have a number already in mind, or would you like to play the ‘let me talk to my manager’ game today?”

Jeff laughed. “I’d rather avoid that, if it’s all the same to you, Jacob. I wouldn’t want to cut into your commission, though.”

“No worries on that, Mr. Knox. I get salary plus commission here, so I won’t lose much regardless. Plus seeing you cut Phil off at the knees is worth the difference.”

“I’m guessing that was Slick? That first salesman?”

“Yes, sir. Let’s get the paperwork done while I start having the car prepped. You’re here early enough that you shouldn’t have to wait past this afternoon for it. You’ll need to go to the Registry and get plates before you can drive it away, of course.”

“Of course.”

The sales manager tried to draw Jeff into the pricing game despite Jacob’s mentioning no financing would be needed. The game continued for a minute before Jeff repeated his offer followed by one simple phrase: “And that’s out the door,” meaning the sale price would include sales tax, title, and plates. When the manager balked, Jeff expressed his regrets to Jacob at the loss of his commission and turned to leave.

“Wait!” the manager called. Mish and Jacob bit their lips when Jeff smiled before turning back to the manager.

Jeff dropped Keiko and the kids at home before taking Mish to run to the bank and Registry to get the vehicle plates.

“You know Mish, my bank is a good place to open an account if you’re looking to.”

“Why would I need to open an account around here, Jeff?”

“Well, I figure since you traded phone numbers with Jacob that you’d be hanging around for a little while.” He glanced at his passenger. “Huh! I wouldn’t have bet that you could blush so red, given your skin tone.”

“I guess I need to find a job, too,” she said as her face returned to its normal color. “I can’t keep sponging off you and Keiko forever. I’ve been keeping my AAFEMS EMT certification current.”

“I can point you at a couple good ambulance companies where you can get started.”

“Thanks. What about your ambulance company? What’s going on with that?”

“Funny you should ask...”

“‘We find it’s always better to fire people on a Friday. Studies have statistically shown that there’s less chance of an incident if you do it at the end of the week,’” Sean Brophy quoted before a company meeting at DMD on July 1st.

“We’re not firing the guy, Sean,” Seamus pointed out.

“Technically, no, you’re right. How long do you think he’ll stay after we make this announcement though, Dad?”

“Until his contract runs out next year,” Seamus replied. “You know, just to spite us?”

Sean chuckled and nodded before motioning for his father to precede him into the training room. Almost all of DMD’s employees waited for them there, including as many on-duty crews as possible. The room quieted before the pair reached the podium.

“Good morning,” Seamus offered. The employees returned his greeting. “As many of you know our fiscal year closed yesterday, which marked the end of another successful year for the Brophy Ambulance Group and for Devens Medical Defense in particular. Our success may be attributed to all of you and your hard work over the past twelve months. Sean and I continue to receive positive reports of your conduct almost daily, regarding the quality of your patient care, and your friendly interactions with our vendors, suppliers, and contracts. You are magnificently continuing the Brophy tradition. You make our jobs easier. Thank you.”

Applause rose from the employees. Those who’d been with Brophy and DMD for a while knew Seamus was genuine in his praise. He never missed an opportunity to thank those who worked for him, nor to brag about them to those outside the company.

“With our success comes growth, both here and in Malden. Today I can announce that Clinton and Sterling have approached DMD about providing paramedic coverage in their towns.” Louder applause. “Brophy EMS in Malden will soon begin serving another community – Stoneham – and three new nursing facilities. This growth will require changes in our leadership. Things are about to get busier for both Sean and Mr. Haussmann.”

Erick Haussmann puffed up with pride, clearly expecting a promotion. That was not to be.

“As of today, Sean becomes the Vice President of Brophy Ambulance Group. He will oversee both of our divisions. Pete DiFranza is promoted from Brophy EMS operations manager to general manager. Josh Erickson from Wilberforce Ambulance Service will join us as new operations manager for our Malden operation.”

More applause started for Pete DiFranza, who filled in at DMD when they needed supervisor coverage during Jeff’s absence. He was well liked.

“For DMD, we are creating a separate general manager’s position to handle both this division and the new BLS transport service we are adding to it. Mr. Haussmann will continue as interim operations manager of the ALS non-transport service.” Haussmann’s face fell. “Shawna LaStrange will be the operations manager for DMD’s new BLS transport service. She will help us grow it to include ALS transfer capabilities in the near future. Sheila Klaussner is promoted to communications center manager and will oversee its coming expansion.”

Seamus stepped around the podium to stand directly in front of his employees.

“The general manager’s position here was given careful thought. In the end, we decided to appoint someone with a proven track record, both within our ambulance companies and outside of them. Someone who has literally given his blood, sweat, and tears for us all. Someone who has overcome all obstacles placed in his way throughout his life. Someone who was instrumental in setting up a program to ensure others received proper credit for job training received while serving our nation.”

The crowd began to murmur now.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce Devens Medical Defense’s new general manager, Jeff Knox.”

And they all erupted in cheers.

Jeff walked into the training room with his family. As was his custom before his enlistment, he wore the same dark green shirt and gray pants his crews wore. The only differences between his uniform and theirs were the four small silver stars he now wore on each collar point, and miniature jump wings, CIB, and Combat Medical Badge. He acknowledged their cheers, clearly overwhelmed by the honor. He addressed them once they took their seats again.

“Thank you all very much. It humbles me to receive such an ovation even after being gone for nearly four years. I am also humbled by the faith Seamus and Sean have in me to lead such a great group of people.” Jeff took a deep breath. “Five years ago many of us stepped into this building unsure of what this venture would become. All we had to offer our contracted towns at the time were promises. We could point to Brophy and its reputation, but we didn’t yet have one of our own to stand on. Over the course of a single year you, all of you, built that reputation. Over the course of that single year I could point to any of the crews on our intercept trucks and tell people, ‘I’d want them treating my family.’ In EMS there is no higher praise.

“Over the course of that year I could point to anyone in the front office and say to someone, ‘They’ll get you what you need.’ In that one year our Training Division, thanks to Tara Bergeron, became the premier ALS training site in the state. Almost singlehandedly Tara took an idea of how to get Army medics their civilian EMT certification, and built it into a program which is now an integral part of the Army’s initial field medic training. This is the commitment to excellence you all made, the reputation you built, and the path you’ve walked since we opened our doors.

“Now it is time to build upon that foundation. We will bring our commitment to excellence to new communities and new programs. We will continue to make this the place everyone wants to work at, to be the people willing to encourage newer EMTs, to groom and coach and guide those who join our new transport arm to lead the way when their turn comes. As general manager I’ll point the way, but it’s you who will get us there. My commitment to the Army ends in October, so I won’t be here full-time just yet, but I know DMD will be in good hands with all of you until then.

“When Seamus and Sean asked me to take this position, my wonderful wife Keiko asked me if I wanted to return. I answered her with a line from an old Army cadence: ‘I like it. I love it. I want more of it.’ I love my family. They are the reason I’m so eager to head home at night. But I also love my family here and I’ve waited too long to come back. I love the job we do, being able to help those in need, and how all of you make that happen. Let’s see what’s next together.”

The ovation at the end of Jeff’s speech lasted three times as long as when Seamus introduced him. Everyone wanted to shake his hand after that. He was sure it would be swollen that night.

“When are you running for President, Jeff?” Seamus joked when he reached Jeff.

“I may have jumped out of planes for a living, Seamus, but I ain’t that crazy.”

“I don’t suppose you noticed Haussmann leaving the room?” Sean asked.

“I saw it. Did he trash his office on the way out?”

“I think he thought about it. Abby glaring at him when he got back there made him think twice. He took his personal stuff and left. She says she owes you a kiss for getting rid of him, by the way.”