‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Leave us alone for a minute, please. Namtaan, you stay.’
The regulars scuffled out of the room.
‘I’ve thought a lot about you through the years,’ Cody said, leaning against the windowsill, and stared out across the fields, and then he chuckled. ‘We saw some good days together, didn’t we?’
‘That’s a fact,’ Hatcher said.
‘Remember that New Year’s Eve? We went to New York, both ended up in bed with that girl, what was her name?’
Hatcher had to think for a minute before he remembered. ‘Linda.’
‘Yeah, Linda.’
‘A very compassionate soul, Linda.’
‘Wasn’t she, though,’ said Cody’. He turned to face Hatcher. ‘You know, I’ve owed you an apology for a long time.’
‘You don’t owe me anything, Polo.’
‘I had dinner in Saigon with my- dad about a month before I went down. The last time I saw him. He told me you were in Nam working undercover for him and had been for a couple of years. I felt about an inch tall, remembering what I said that night in San Diego. I guess my mouth ran a lot faster than my brains in those days. For what it’s worth, I apologize.’
‘Thanks. That means a lot to me.’
‘You’re a persistent son of a bitch, you know.’
‘I’ve been told that.’
‘So what’s the message, Hatch?’ Cody asked seriously.
‘It’s from your father.’
Cody was surprised. ‘My father knows I’m alive?’ he said.
‘That’s what I was sent over here to determine.’
‘Forget it,’ Cody said. ‘Let the dead stay dead.’
‘There’s no way to put this gently,’ said Hatcher. ‘Your father’s dying of cancer.’
Cody was jarred. He stared into space, then sucked in his lower lip. His eyebrows bunched together. ‘Oh Jesus,’ he said, and his shoulders suddenly sagged and the middle went out of him and he reached out and leaned against the window shutters. The seams in his face grew deeper. After it sank in for a full minute, he asked, ‘How long?’
‘Six months, maybe, if he’s real lucky.’
‘Oh God . . .‘ The words choked off in his throat. He lowered his head and tears ran down his cheeks. Pai stood beside him and put her arm around his waist.
‘Y’know, I never thought I’d see him again, I took that for granted. I just never thought about . . . that someday . .
‘He doesn’t care what you’ve done or what you’re doing,’ Hatcher said huskily. He just wants to know you’re alive, to see you once before he dies.’
‘God,’ Cody said. He wiped his face, and the age lines painted on it by his wife came off on his hand, leaving behind the true furrows of age and hard times. He stared out the window for a very long time. Neither Pai nor Hatcher said anything.
Finally Cody said, ‘Funny, isn’t it, how things you thought were important suddenly become — insignificant. All my life I had to toe die mark. Being Buffalo Bill’s son wasn’t easy. I couldn’t fail at anything —, He stopped for a moment, then shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘that’s not fair, I didn’t allow
Hatcher remembered that night when Cody had torn up his room in a drunken rage because he was alone at Christmas.
‘Hell,’ Hatcher whispered, ‘that was twenty-five years ago.’
‘Twenty, fifty, no difference, lie never forgot it. And he never let me forget it. That decision to go Navy clouded our relationship from then on. Maybe it still clouds it.’
‘Doesn’t much matter anymore,’ Hatcher said.
‘It does to me,’ Cody said in a faraway voice.
Cody continued to look out die window, shaking his head, clinging to Pai.
‘Look, Polo, I can’t say anything for Sloan, and I don’t know what the hell Porter’s motives were,’ said Hatcher. ‘Your father doesn’t give a tinker’s damn what happened or what you’re doing. He’s dying, for God’s sake, he wants to say good-bye. My job is to set up a meeting somewhere safe so you can see each other once more.’
‘What irony,’ said Cody. ‘As Prophett would say, two warriors facing each other across the river and no way to say good-bye.’
‘His abstract poetry eludes me,’ Hatcher snapped with a touch of irritation.
