03 February 1990 – Fort Bragg, North Carolina

Jeff Knox strode down the hallway of a different yet similar Army barracks. He hadn’t heard from Tom Pelley since they jumped into Panama. Tom was assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 504th PIR, and this was his barracks.

They kept in touch here and there, seeing each other occasionally around the base. 1st and 2nd Battalion were both in the 82nd Airborne’s 1st Brigade. Both were on the same duty cycle, and both jumped into Panama for Operation Just Cause. Jeff transferred down from Walter Reed to Womack in mid-January. The balance of the 82nd returned from Panama on the thirty-first. But Jeff had been unable to reach his friend since. Multiple phone calls went unanswered.

Jeff checked in with TC’s squad leader before trying to see him. It was a courtesy to let the man know about the visit. Jeff stopped in front of TC’s assigned room and knocked on his door. He took a step back when it opened. TC was pale and much thinner than Jeff remembered him. There were dark circles under the man’s eyes, suggesting a lack of sleep.

“TC...” Jeff whispered.

“What the hell do you want, Yankee?”

Jeff was taken aback by his tone. “I haven’t heard from you since we jumped. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine. Anything else?”

“I kinda wanted to know why you’ve been ignoring your phone.”

“Maybe it’s because I don’t want to talk to you!”

“What did I do?” Jeff asked the man he considered a friend.

“Leave me alone!” TC snarled. He slammed the door in Jeff’s face.

A stunned Jeff stared at TC’s door, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Jeff noted the pictures on that door. They were of TC’s roommate, one of the soldiers the division lost during operations in Panama. Jeff felt a hand on his shoulder while he tried to make sense of his interaction with TC. The hand belonged to TC’s squad leader, SSG Alonzo.

“Tom and Ricky were close,” Alonzo explained. “Everyone in the company liked Ricky, but he and Tom were tight. I didn’t want to say anything before you came up. I hoped your coming by might snap him out of whatever funk he’s in.”

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Jeff said, shaking his head. “I guess I’ll head back to my barracks.”

“How’d it go?” Ken asked, hearing his roommate return.

Jeff didn’t answer Ken, causing Ken to look up. It was then that Ken saw the look on Jeff’s face.

“Jeff? What’s wrong?”

Again, no answer.

“Jeff?”

Jeff dropped into the chair at his desk, looked at the ceiling, and sighed. “You know how you called me at Walter Reed? Visited me when I was transferred down here to Womack?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“I found out why I couldn’t get ahold of TC. His roommate died during Just Cause.”

“Shit...”

“Yeah. He won’t talk to me. He slammed his door in my face.”

Ken nodded. “He’s gonna be angry for a while, I’m guessing. You can’t help him until he wants help.”

“I know,” Jeff said. “It hurts, though.”

“I don’t know what to do, Mrs. Pelley,” Jeff said to TC’s mother over the phone later that night.

“I know this is going to sound trite, Jeff: Tommy’s got to want the help you’re trying to give him,” Mrs. Pelley replied with clear resignation in her voice. She echoed Ken’s words from hours before. “We came up to visit him when he got back, but he pushed us away, too. We cut our visit short. I guess we all just have to give him time to work this out for himself.”

“If you say so, Ma’am.”

Jeff was still asleep in his bunk when the pounding on his door began. He was on a medical profile. This meant that, unlike Ken, he was allowed to skip PT and sleep in. Ken could at least run. With a groan, Jeff rolled off the bunk and made his way to the door.

Opening the door revealed a wild-eyed TC.

“LEAVE MY FAMILY THE HELL ALONE, YOU YANKEE SONUVABITCH!” the man roared.

“Your family is worried about you, TC! Your mother and sister both called while I was at Womack to ask me to check on you! You ignored my phone calls after you returned, so I went to your barracks to do EXACTLY that!”

“I DON’T WANT YOU TALKING TO THEM!”

“Is that how I’m supposed to repay the kindness your family showed me last year? Ignore them? Blow them off?”

“LEAVE. US. ALONE!”

Jeff saw he wasn’t going to get through to TC at the moment. He took a step back and slammed his door shut, frustrated. The pounding restarted before the echo faded. A look of anger settled over Jeff’s face as he tore his door open. TC held his arm back, ready to pound on the door again. The look on Jeff’s face made him pause.

“You best get your ass out of my barracks, Specialist,” Jeff said in the coldest voice he’d ever used. “If you’re not out of here in ten seconds – ten GODDAMN seconds – I am going to make sure you have your head up your ass! Literally! Now get out!”

TC said nothing, glaring at him. He lowered his arm, turned, and walked away without a word.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Pelley,” Jeff said, his voice devoid of all joy. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your family’s supper.”

“Jeff? No, I wouldn’t have answered if we were still eating, you know that. Jeff, what’s wrong? Is it about Tommy?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Ma’am, I’m afraid I had words with your son this morning.”

”’Words,’ Jeff?” Jeff relayed the interaction with TC the best he could. “Jeff, I hope you know that there’s no way Tommy could expect you NOT to call us.”

“At this point, Ma’am, I can’t say what TC expects,” Jeff sighed. “At the end of it all, Mrs. Pelley, though TC is my friend, he is your son. He’s going to need plenty of support from your family to help him through whatever it is he’s dealing with. The best way for me to support him is by not making him feel that I’m spying on him.”

“Jeff, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that, for your family’s sake, I need to back off and not contact you for a while. I don’t want him turning on you.”

“Jeff, no...” She knew what was coming.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Pelley. I really am. I hope I’ll be able to reconnect with you, Dr. Pelley, Miranda, and most of all TC, soon. All the best.”

“Jeff, please wait...”

Jean Pelley’s voice cut off when Jeff hung up.

Jeff made another attempt to visit TC the following week. He hoped they could both be more reasonable this time. He stopped to see SSG Alonzo again before heading to TC’s room. Alonzo shook his head.

“Don’t bother.”

“He’s still closing himself off?”

Alonzo shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s not here anymore.”

“‘Not here anymore?’ Where is he?”

“Transferred out. He left early this week.”

“Where?”

“Korea somewhere. I’m guessing the DMZ, but I’m not sure.”

Jeff thanked the sergeant and walked outside. He scratched his head for a moment before heading back to his barracks.

“You know, people are usually dead drunk when they decide to do something like this.”

“That’s a sweeping generalization, Ken.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

“It’s not like we’re getting our girlfriend-of-the-week’s name tattooed on our chests or anything. And it’s not like we weren’t there, either.”

“Very true.”

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” asked the shop’s owner when they entered.

“Yes, Sir. What would be involved in getting this design done?”

The tattoo artist looked at the paper Jeff held. “Colors?” Jeff held out an 82nd patch and 1/504th’s jump status oval. “The stars in the same color yellow?”

“Gold for the stars above the rest of design. A bronze color for this one here, if possible?”

“The outline would take a day, and filling in the colors would have to be spread out over a few weeks. That bronze star might look better as a bronze-shaded silver one. Solid bronze might get lost in the 82nd patch. You both looking to get this one?”

“To the 24th Infantry Division,” Jeff said in Japanese while raising his beer in salute. The two friends shared a final drink as roommates in late June.

Ken wouldn’t be part of the 504th after tomorrow. He returned his issued equipment earlier in the week. Ken would sign out of the unit following his promotion ceremony in the morning. He’d always be a part of its history, though. Jeff’s best friend would depart for his PCS leave after the ceremony. Ken would report to Fort Stewart and the 24th Infantry Division on July 30th.

“You’re taking this better than I thought you would.”

“No, I’m not,” Jeff groused. “I’m just faking it pretty well.”

“We knew this was coming, Jeff,” Ken reminded his best friend.

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“‘All good things must come to an end.’”

“Thank you, Geoffrey Chaucer.”

Jeff helped Ken carry his belongings out to his car the following morning. He stood next to the car trying to think of something to say when Ken surprised him.

“Hey, you know how I took yesterday off to ‘take care of things in town?’”

“Yeah?”

“Well, what I needed to take care of wasn’t here in Fayetteville.”

“Where was it?”

“Charlottesville.”

”’Charlottesville?’”

Jeff noticed Ken looking behind him. He turned and almost fainted. Jeff saw the most beautiful thing ever walking towards him – Keiko Takahashi. He and Keiko had agreed to NOT keep in touch. They didn’t want to pressure themselves.

Her freshman year was kind to her, and she looked more mature. Her looks were more womanly than before, less teenager-like. She wore a sundress that matched her dark eyes and hair and also flattered her figure. Her walk was confident and assured while she approached. Jeff felt a sense of completeness as he gathered her in his arms and kissed her.

“Keiko-chan,” Jeff whispered.

“Hello, Jeffrey. I am glad to see you well.”

“And you, you are more beautiful than ever.”

“Thank you, Jeffrey. Our time is still years away. But I wanted to see you, even if for only a few moments.”

“I am glad you did.” Jeff registered the ‘years away’ she mentioned. He would bear whatever burden necessary to be with this woman in the end.

“I wish we had more time together today, but Ken and I must leave for the airport soon.”

“This was more than I’d expected when I woke this morning. I trust you when you say our future is coming.” They shared another kiss before Jeff turned back to Ken. The two friends shook hands.

Ken looked Jeff in the eye and quoted:

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother

“I proudly call you my brother, Jeff. I will be even prouder to call you my brother-in-law when that day comes.”

Jeff was at a loss as to how to respond at first. He then remembered an old Irish prayer:

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

They embraced, wishing each other well. Jeff gave Keiko one more kiss. He then watched the two siblings drive away. It was every goodbye Jeff ever experienced rolled into one.

The sounds of saber-rattling dominated the summer. The US and Iraq sniped back and forth over the subject of Kuwait, a small, oil-rich emirate in the Persian Gulf. The Iraqi leader, Saddam Hussein, was the personification of the adage ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ Once acceptable to the US during the Iran-Iraq war, he was less so now. Jeff noticed an increase in training tempo during Training Cycle in mid-July.

Iraq invaded and subjugated Kuwait, its ‘nineteenth province,’ on August 2, 1990. The forced annexation took mere hours. For Jeff, it was one more case of déjà vu all over again. He saw the same type of escalation before Panama. 2nd Brigade was the duty brigade and shipped out within hours of the invasion. 3rd Squad was well-prepared when the rest of the 82nd Airborne received deployment orders.

The 82nd was little more than a speed bump in the desert until their pre-positioned equipment arrived. The arrival of various armored divisions made the ‘desert shield’ more than just a name. Jeff celebrated his 21st birthday by running through a platoon-level training exercise in full chemical protective gear. The Iraqis had a reputation for using chemical weapons. It took multiple showers to get the charcoal from the MOPP gear out of his skin.

The Soviet hardliners in Moscow only recently returned to power through a successful coup, opposed any UN sanctions against Iraq. The US used the absence of the Soviet’s UN ambassador to ram resolutions authorizing the use of force against Iraq through a Security Council meeting at the end of November. Resolutions condemning Iraq and approving sanctions also passed in the General Assembly.

The Soviets could do little more than watch the growing tide of displeasure with Iraq. The Security Council vetoed any attempted reversal of previous decisions. The Soviets touted the strength of the Iraqi military hardware which they provided. Both countries predicted sad times for the US-led coalition.

The 82nd held its place in the desert for months, running exercise after exercise. NCOs from every allied unit maintained a delicate balance of readiness: too much training and their units would lose their edge, too little, and they wouldn’t be ready when combat began. The Soviets continued to laud Iraq’s military capabilities and its place as the fourth-largest army in the world. The confidence they displayed early on started waning as Desert Shield continued.

The two sides hurtled headlong towards the deadline for Iraq to pull out of Kuwait. The point of no return was the middle of January 1991. The deadline passed without the UN-mandated withdrawal. The world held its breath.

Desert Storm began with a massive air attack at 1800 hours, Eastern Standard Time on January 17, 1991. The recently launched Cable News Network made its name by scooping the Big Three networks. Their live reports from Baghdad while the first bombs fell captured the attention of billions of viewers.

Coalition forces breached the defensive sand berms far to the south of the Iraqi capital on February 24th. Coalition air forces flew thousands of sorties and dropped millions of pounds of ordnance in those five weeks. If it moved, it died. If it didn’t it died faster.

The Coalition’s iron fist smashed the world’s fourth-largest army in just over four days; it became the world’s largest collection of scrap metal under the onslaught. US Army’s Central Command tasked the 82nd Airborne with securing the area around Tallil, Iraq when the ground war stopped at the end of February.

Jeff was exhausted after two weeks of clearing bunker after Iraqi bunker. The 82nd still camped in the desert, and he’d been spitting sand and dust for seven and a half months. Maybe he could transfer to Fort Wainwright, Alaska, for his next tour. Snow sounded pretty good right now.

“Hey, Sarge!” came a shout from behind Jeff. He turned to see one of his soldiers, Mendoza, jogging over to him. “Sarge, the Captain wants to see ya over at the CP.”

“Okay, thanks, Ricky.”

Jeff walked to the company’s command tent, making sure he was as squared away as possible. Jeff ducked his head while he entered the tent and looked around for his company commander. His company chain of command all stood near the captain’s desk. This was either going to be very good news, or very bad. Jeff made his way over to the group after removing his helmet. Jeff drew himself to attention in front of the desk.

“Sir, Sergeant Knox reports.”

Jeff did not salute since they were in a combat zone. The captain, who stood by the desk, nodded at him.

“At ease, Jeff. Have a seat.”

Captain Matthews motioned to the cheap metal chair next to Jeff. Jeff sat and looked at the somber faces of the other men before turning back to the captain. CPT Matthews sighed.

“Jeff, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but I just received word that Ken Takahashi was KIA two weeks ago during the Ground Phase, back on twenty-eight February.”

Jeff felt like a giant punched him in the stomach. He couldn’t breathe, and his vision started to gray out. He put his head in his hands and tried to keep his composure. Ken Takahashi was his roommate from the day Jeff reported into the 82nd to the day Ken transferred out of it, almost two and a half years. They preferred to forget about Campbell. Ken was his best friend, a man he called ‘brother.’ Today was to have been Ken’s 23rd birthday.

The tears Jeff tried to hold back began to fall, and he couldn’t stop them. Jeff barely registered the hands on his shoulder and the back of his neck. Jeff was able to compose himself and raise his head after a few minutes. The hands he felt belonged to his platoon sergeant and first sergeant. They lost friends in combat earlier in their careers. They understood the pain he felt.

“I’m sorry, Jeff. I know how close the two of you were.”

The others present in the tent expressed their condolences as well. The colors seemed to be missing from the world around him. Jeff didn’t remember leaving the CP. He found himself sitting on a low dune, looking out over the Iraqi desert as the sunset. He was a clear target, but he didn’t care. There was a muffled <whump> when someone sat in the sand next to him. He turned to see who it was and started to scramble to his feet.

“As you were, Sergeant, as you were,” Warren Thomas quickly said. “Keep your seat.”

“Yes, Father.”

Chaplain (Major) Thomas was a Catholic chaplain attached to 1st Battalion. The pair watched in silence while the sun slipped lower and lower. Reds, oranges, and golds spread through the sky as it disappeared.

“We don’t take time to appreciate that often enough.”

“No, Father, we surely don’t.” Jeff picked up a rock, turned it over in his hands then tossed it away. “That’ll happen again tomorrow whether we’re all here or not, won’t it?”

“That’s correct, Jeff. There wouldn’t be anyone to appreciate it, though.”

“Father, you shouldn’t be exposing yourself to the enemy like this.”

“What about you, Jeff?” Jeff shrugged. “You think your death wouldn’t matter, then?”

Instead of answering the question itself, Jeff responded with lyrics from a song:

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

“Pink Floyd,” Father Thomas said, nodding. “But what of your family? Won’t your death matter to them?” Another shrug. “The young ladies I keep hearing about? The ones who visited you two years ago? No? Ken’s sister, maybe?”

Jeff reacted to that question, looking sharply at the priest.

“You have to pay attention in this job, Jeff. You might need some little piece of information you’ve heard one day. What about Miss Takahashi then? Don’t you think she’d care more than a little?”

Jeff hung his head. The pain of Ken’s death came rushing back. He tried to shove it into a corner, but he should have known from experience that wouldn’t work. Tears for his friend fell again. They fell for the future lost, for the pain Keiko and her family now experienced.

“Why, Father? Why? What purpose does his death serve?” he asked, the tears leaving streaks in the dust on his face.

“Those questions are as old as the human race, Jeff. Let me ask this in return, something you seldom hear asked: what purpose did Ken’s life serve? At a minimum, it was to be your best friend and the man responsible for introducing you to his sister. Will his death be an excuse for you to stop living now? Or will it be the reason you live? Carpe diem, Jeff. Carpe diem.”

Jeff nodded and wiped his face. “’L’audace, l’audace, toujours l’audace!’ Grab life by the throat.”

“Exactly, Jeff. Otherwise, it’s just existing.”

Jeff looked back at the western sky. The red glow faded towards a bluish-purple as the minutes passed.

“Thank you, Father,” Jeff said, turning back to the priest. He rose and dusted himself off. “You’ve given me something to think about.”

The green of spring seemed unnatural now. The 82nd landed back at Fort Bragg a week ago after eight months in the desert. His family drove down to witness his return.

Kara cried when Jeff told her about Ken; she liked Ken immediately when they met two years ago. Jeff’s parents would never have the chance to meet him now. They saw the positive effect of Ken’s friendship on their son’s life, however. Jeff also told his family about the decision he made in Iraq and why.

“Is that what you want, Jeff? Is that what will make you happy?”

“It is, Mom. That’s where my future lies.”

“Honey, as long as you’re happy. That’s all your father and I want for you. I finally understood that someone else can’t define your success the day you left home.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Are you going to call Ken’s family?”

Jeff shook his head. “I wrote them a letter while I was over there. I think that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I put it in the ‘Out’ box in the company office when we got back yesterday before I even took my shower.”

His parents nodded. “It was good of you to do that,” his father commented.

“You two would have been disappointed if I hadn’t done that. I mean, sure, I bring death from above, but there’s no reason for me to be impolite.”

Jeff stepped into the Alpha Company office in mid-April.

“Hey, Sergeant Knox! Good morning.” Specialist Chris Vander Byl was the Alpha Company clerk.

“Mornin’, Dutch. I need to submit this.”

Chris’ eyebrows rose at the form Jeff handed him but said nothing. He pointed out spots where Jeff needed to initial and then asked him to sign the bottom of the form.

“You want the Captain to see this now?”

“No time like the present, Dutch.”

Chris knocked on CPT Matthews’ door and handed the form back to Jeff.

“Come!”

“Sergeant Knox to see you, Sir.”

“Thanks, Chris. Come on in, Sergeant!”

“Good morning, Sir. I have something you need to see.”

Jeff handed the form to his CO after he saluted. CPT Matthews’ smile faded. He fell back into his chair, still staring at the form. He looked back up at Jeff.

“Is this for real?”

“I’m afraid so, Sir.”

“Have a seat, Jeff.” The captain reread the form in disbelief while Jeff sat. “When?”

“I have sixty-one days of leave accrued now, Sir. The day after Memorial Day? With what I’ll accrue between now and then, that will take me past the end of my enlistment period.”

“The Army as a whole and this company, in particular, will be lessened by your departure, Jeff. You’d have made an outstanding senior NCO or officer.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Sir, thank you. I would have left the company after the summer regardless though, Sir.”

“True enough. May I ask a personal question, Jeff?”

“How much of this is due to Ken’s death, Sir?” The captain nodded. “I won’t deny that a fair amount of my decision stems from that fact, Sir. There are other considerations, too. There’s a young lady in my future, Sir. To be more accurate, she is my future.”

“Someone who doesn’t approve of the Army, Jeff?”

“Not quite. Keiko Takahashi, Sir.” The captain’s eyebrows rose. “I met her two years ago when Ken’s family came to visit.”

“From what I remember hearing, she’s quite the catch.”

“No argument there, Sir. I’m sure I’ve only begun to learn how true that statement is, too.”

Terry Matthews nodded again. “Twenty-eight May’s in a little less than two months, Jeff. Keep running past the finish line.”

“You can count on me, Sir. You’ll get my best effort.”

“I always do, Jeff. Dismissed.”

CPT Matthews watched Jeff come to attention, salute, and leave his office. He sat at his desk lost in thought for many minutes. A quiet knock brought him out of his musings.

“Yes, Chris?”

“Do you need anything, Sir?”

“Would you bring me a Form 638, Chris?”

It took almost a month for the rumor mill to catch wind of what transpired in the company office. Jeff sat in his barracks room while he reviewed his final school paper. He heard a knock and looked up. 1SG Haversmith stood in his doorway.

“Hey, First Sergeant,” Jeff said as he rose. He came to a loose position of parade rest.

“At ease, Jeff. Have a seat. This is your room, after all.”

“Thanks, Top. Have a seat yourself. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Do you have any soda?”

Jeff offered what was in his small fridge. He handed the first sergeant the soda he requested.

“What can I do for you, Top?”

“You can call me ‘Dave’ for starters, Jeff. Is it true what I’m hearing?”

“Depends, Top ... uh, Dave. What are you hearing?”

“That you’re gonna ETS?”

“‘Fraid so, Dave. Twenty-five days and a wake-up, now. I’ll go on terminal leave at that point, on two-eight May. I’ll officially Echo Tango Suitcase on zero-two August.”

“You were talking about going career, maybe even going to OCS.”

“Change is the only constant, Dave. Ken’s death has a lot to do with this change, but his family’s visit two years ago has even more.”

“Why’s that?”

“Ken’s little sister? Keiko? Love at first sight, Dave.”

Dave’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. Ken’s sister? Did he know?”

“He knew. Gave me his blessing, even.”

“Is she that against the military?”

Jeff shrugged. “Beats me, Dave. I guess I’ve soured on it. Four years, two war zones, my best friend dead...? I used to see a future in the Army. Now it’s just darkness when I try to picture that future. I can’t see it any longer.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Not quite sure, yet. Keiko will be in school until ‘94, earning a bachelor’s in English and a master’s in teaching. We’ll see what happens when we get to that point.”

The news spread like wildfire around the company. One of 3rd Squad’s newest privates thought he could coast because Jeff would slack off due to his imminent departure. He was wrong. There was ample time for that private to consider his error while he ran the division’s obstacle course twice in a row. Jeff made sure his Class-A uniform was clean and pressed for the Memorial Day celebrations. He’d need it soon thereafter, too.

Lieutenant Colonel Reich called him up in front of the entire battalion at his final formation on the 28th. Colonel Reich told the battalion how Sergeant Knox performed with a high level of professionalism and dedication since being promoted. He presented Jeff with his fourth Army Commendation Medal, the one Captain Matthews recommended him for in mid-April.

The battalion’s NCOs took Jeff to the E-Club for some going-away elbow lubrication after close of business. Jeff drank lightly, not wanting to lose a day of travel to a hangover. He did need to help Dave Haversmith off his barstool, however.

Jeff joined Alpha Company for one last PT session on the morning of the 29th. He would be sedentary over the next month or so, and he needed the exercise. He cleaned up in the latrine before returning to his room for the last load of his belongings. He could get away with the PT session, but not eating at the DFAC. He turned in his meal card the day before and it was time to go.

He stopped at the CQ desk where he shook hands with the duty NCO, Emilio Vasquez. He turned his room key over to Emilio also. Jeff made sure his buddy knew his address in Massachusetts before he left. He kept himself from turning to look at the barracks he called home for over three years.

“Don’t look back,” the band Boston once sang. “The road is callin’, today is the day.”

Jeff placed the last box in the back of his pickup, followed by his duffel bag. He locked his truck’s cap and started the engine. Jeff turned in a slow circle and took in one last memory of 1st Brigade’s area. He drove off Fort Bragg for the final time and watched the base recede behind him as he drove down the All-American Expressway.

He took State Route 87 south to Interstate 95. Where they intersect, I-95 runs northeast-to-southwest. Jeff put the rising sun in the rearview mirror and drove into his future.