“All Parents records are confidential. Unless it’s a capital offense. Another reason I’m perfect for this,” she said. Puppy nodded and yawned. “You should rest.”
“So should you. I’m just pitching.”
Beth doodled in the dirt. “Do you believe in ever-lasting love, Puppy?”
Now Puppy had the opening to say he loved her. He tensed. “I’ve never been there.”
“Not even with Annette?”
He hesitated. “In the beginning. Then the illusion kicked in. Love’s a tricky mirror.”
“What about Zelda?”
“She’s a friend.”
“You love her more than you ever could a partner.”
He saw Beth’s expression, the realization making his stomach sink. “You love her, too. That’s why you’re doing this.”
Beth rested her chin on his shoulder. “Does that hurt you?”
“Because I go to sleep at night imagining kissing your breasts?”
She laughed so loud the dirt on the grave stirred. That didn’t make him feel any better. “I didn’t think it went quite that far.” Beth grew serious. “Yes, I love her. She’s very unique.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Is there something I should know?”
Now it was his turn to make the dirt dance. “This isn’t exactly a relationship with a future.”
She shrugged sadly. “What is?”
He followed her long look at the grave. “Was he?”
Beth sighed. “It was painful love from the start. He had dreams up his ass and no ladder tall enough to reach them. But he was a good guy. And we had a child.” She suddenly squeezed his hand. “I would’ve liked to have loved you, Puppy. I mean that. It would’ve simplified so much. Frecklie views you like a father. You have the makings of a good Catholic. You’re decent.”
“You forgot something. Oh Puppy, kiss my breasts.”
She chuckled. “You’re obsessed by them.”
“Metaphoric.”
“If I were a different person I’d let you see them.”
“Jesus wouldn’t like such talk.”
“See. You already have me thinking things I shouldn’t.”
“That’s what friends are about.” He hugged Beth. “You better never hurt my Zelda.”
She gave him a mock salute.
“Does Zelda love you, too?”
“After tomorrow night, how could she not?” Beth shivered in the brisk wind.
“We should get you home.”
Beth patted the lumpy backpack. “Sometimes I nap here.”
He cringed. “In a cemetery?”
“It’s like being in the waiting room of Heaven.”
He didn’t buy that, but this would be as close as he’d ever get to spending the night with her. They rolled up, arms around each other, wrapped in two woolen blankets. He prayed to Jesus not to let him get an erection.
“Puppy?” she whispered after a while, waking him.
He sat up in alarm and she gently laid him back down. “Nothing’s going wrong tomorrow. Don’t worry. But you never know. Most of these people didn’t expect to end up here so soon. So if something goes south in a handcart, as my father used to say, I want you adopting Ruben.”
He rubbed his bleary eyes. “What?”
Beth kissed his cheek and tucked him in. “You’d do it anyway. I just wanted you to have my blessing.”
• • • •
LIEUTENANT ARTITO DIDN’T like being in charge, especially when he’d had no time to prepare. Sure, when Tomas was gone, he was head of the detachment. But Tomas was never gone. In the eighteen years he’d been in Grandma’s security platoon, Tomas had always been here wherever she went, whatever the time, whatever the circumstances. Like her sixth toe.
Grandma looked at him impatiently and hurried along the long marble corridor past the fresh flowers on the tables and laughing HG children throwing balls. He still sometimes thought they were real and made a wide arc, catching up to Grandma as they went onto the dark green lawn of the House.
“We weren’t scheduled for this, ma’am.” He tried blocking her without seeming to.
“Now we are.”
“Shouldn’t I call Major Stilton?” Tomas had already ignored three pleas, but at least it’d seem like Artito was doing his duty.
“Aren’t you capable of handling me?” Grandma smiled faintly.
He stiffened. “Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ll see about that.” She tapped her feet and the ‘copter appeared. Grandma hopped in. The baffled platoon looked at Artito for guidance; he snapped orders for them to haul ass up and out.
The ‘copter skipped south, Grandma’s face pressed against the window in amazement.
“How far back do they go?” She pointed at the streams of cars.
“Northwest to the Poconos, north to Albany, south to Philadelphia, east to Hartford. There’s no traffic movement anymore, ma’am. Just cars. People.”
“Show me.”
Artito grunted at Lt. Onuyomi, who spasmed nervously until he found the raw surveillance footage. Grandma’s lips parted slowly in thought.
“How will they watch the game?”
“It’ll be on the vidsports, ma’am.”
“Are screens on the highways, Lieutenant?”
Artito really hated Tomas at this moment. “I don’t believe so.”
“Then how will they watch?” She touched his wrist. “That’s not an accusation, but a question.”
“I guess they can’t.”
Grandma nodded. “See how much easier it is when you’re not afraid? Get Commissioner Kenuda on his tracker.”
The platoon exchanged puzzled looks.
“It’s that gizmo over there.” Grandma pointed to a black keyboard in the corner. “Dial 22, then ask for Third Cousin Kenuda and say it’s Grandma.”
Three soldiers banged into each other scrambling to fulfill the order.
“Now let’s get closer.”
Artito nodded carefully and ordered the ‘copter to drop a hundred feet. They drifted over the Grand Concourse where tents had been pitched, barbecues grilled, children ran around, between and on top of cars. Everywhere, baseball banners flew.
“I’ve never seen so many people out,” she marveled.
“There were millions for the Surrender, I mean Truce Parade, ma’am.”
“Because they had to be. Today, they want to be. Look at them. How happy everyone is. Why is that?”
No one knew the right answer. Grandma laughed her warm, reassuring sound, as if they were being bathed in soapy bubbles. They offered a variety of opinions about this just being spontaneous and fun and an adventure.
“There’s more. Can something spontaneous and powerful be controlled or does
