No Mangan Is An Island
A Mangan Trilogy
Part One:
You Crazy Diamond
Friday May 23,
1980
Sleepyside-On-The-Hudson
Dan put his arm around his wife,
Emily, as they walked out of the movie theatre surrounded by friends.
Right now, he was celebrating the wedding anniversary of two of his best
friends, Jim and Trixie Frayne, who were married ten years ago today.
Celebrating this occasion along with Emily and himself were Mart and Diana
Belden, Brian and Honey Belden, and Rob and Mindy Belden.
Laughing and chattering on as if
they were the only group of people in the world, they piled into their cars
and headed over to Wimpy’s, an old train car diner that had truly stood the
test of time. When they were all seated, and drinks were ordered, Trixie
managed to get everyone’s attention.
“I saw the most peculiar man as
we left The Cameo,” Trixie said with a gleam in her eye. Everyone burst
out laughing, and Jim leaned down for a peck on the cheek.
“Trix,” Jim started. “It’s
our anniversary. Do you think we could have it mystery-free?”
Trixie giggled. “Did I say
he was mysterious, Jim Frayne?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him as
the waiter served the drinks. “I only said he looked peculiar.”
“The terminology is synonymous when
we’re referring to the vocabulary of Detective Belden,” said Mart.
He was still the same old Mart, just as Dan first remembered him the day
they met in history class.
Trixie only smirked. “It’s
really nothing, but it was this man. I’d say he might’ve been about
fifty or sixty years old and he was sort of staring at someone. At
first I thought it was us, but he was kind of staring past us.”
“Good Lord, Trixie! Now that
is suspicious!” Mart teased again only to receive a small swat from his wife,
Diana.
Honey stifled a giggle. “Oh,
leave her alone, you guys! Go on, Trix.”
“Thank you, Honey.” Trixie
tried to recall the man she saw. “He was sitting on the bench across
the street from the theatre holding a newspaper as if he was reading it.
But he wasn’t really reading it. It was slack in his hands as if he
had been reading it but was distracted by something. I turned to look
behind us but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so I just figured
that he was spacing out.”
“I saw him too,” Rob piped up.
Rob was the youngest Belden. “I didn’t think much of it, I guess.
Just someone staring off into space.”
“I didn’t notice a thing,” Emily
said, winking at Dan. “I was busy hanging onto the arm of a very attractive
cop.”
“Well, it doesn’t make any difference,”
Brian said. “He might be just a loner or someone out for a walk.
Anyway, we’re here to celebrate my sister and her husband on ten happy years.”
He raised his tall glass of Coca-Cola. “Congrats!”
Everyone else followed suit.
Throughout the evening, they laughed
and joked about past memories of Bob-White adventures. Dan cracked
a few jokes about his so-called adventures at home while everyone else traveled.
During all the fun, no one seemed to notice the same middle-aged, slightly
graying man who sat alone at a small table across the room. No one,
that is, until Mart stood up to make a toast.
“Before we dispense of these joyous
festivities and journey to our respective living quarters, I would like to
propose an additional toast.” He held up his Cherry Cola and grinned
at the nine other people who sat around the large round table. Each
one grinned up at him and waited for him to start. “To friendship and
acquaintances. To those related and extended. To sisters and
sisters-in-law. To brothers and brothers-in-law. To the agonizing
adolescent years when we felt we knew it all and were unconquerable.
To the adult years that proved our ways erroneous. To the blissful
times we’ll by no means want to forget and the distressing times that we
are incapable of forgetting. To the…”
“Mart,” Jim interrupted. “I
hate to interrupt but our plane leaves for Hawaii tomorrow morning at ten-thirty.
You think you could speed things up?”
Mart pretended to be offended, but
chuckled. “My arm was getting tired anyway. Anyway, in not as
many words…”
“TOO LATE!” the whole table crowed
back at him, which ensued much laughter.
“…To all the Bob-Whites. You
make any occasion special. Trixie Belden for always finding something
that looks mysterious. Jim Frayne for clipping her wings when they
need a little trimming. Brian Belden for being there for us to look
up to for direction and guidance. Honey Wheeler for getting us out
of sticky situations with her endless tact. Diana Lynch for being a
very artistic, lovely, beautiful, wonderful woman, mother, friend, lover…”
“MART!” the whole table yelled again.
“Er…um, to yours truly for the educational
value…”
“GET ON WITH IT!”
“To Dan Mangan for…”
At that moment they heard a small
clatter on the other side of the diner, where the man was sitting.
The man did not look up at the group, although he had been listening to them
the whole time. Dan turned to look out of curiosity but turned his
attention back to Mart in hopes that he would soon finish his toast.
“…for his unconditional support
and for letting us be his friends. We are the Bob-Whites!”
Everyone waited for Mart to continue.
Finally, he took a drink of his cola and looked at everyone expectantly.
“I’m done now,” he said.
Instead of raising their drinks
right away, they all cheered and laughed as Mart turned beat red.
“It wasn’t that long, was it?” he asked them.
Everyone laughed harder. Mart
was the longwinded one, and he showed it well.
Ten Acres – Jim
and Trixie Frayne
Trixie flipped the light switch
off and climbed into bed next to her husband, who leaned over and planted
a kiss on her freckled nose.
“That man who made that clatter
at Wimpy’s, Jim,” Trixie said as she returned his kiss. “He’s the one
I was talking about.”
Jim chuckled, his green eyes twinkling
in the moonlight coming in through the second story bedroom window.
“You shamus,” he sighed. “No sense in getting involved with this mystery.
We’ll be in Hawaii soon and there’ll be no mysteries or anything this time.”
He leaned in for a deep kiss and pulled her closer.
“Not even a teeny weeny mystery?”
she asked and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.
“No,” he answered huskily and tenderly
kissed her neck.
She raised her hand up and stuck
her index finger and thumb out, leaving an inch of space between them.
“Not even this small of a mystery?”
“No,” he replied quickly and slid
his hand up and under her nightshirt.
“How ‘bout this small?” she giggled
and moved her index finger and thumb together so that there was half an inch
between them.
Jim lightly tickled her underneath
the nightshirt. “I don’t care if it’s the Mystery of the Missing Pencil,
Trix. The answer is still no.”
She giggled a little, enough to
make her curls bounce. “You’re no fun!”
“Oh yeah?” He threw her a
very broad grin and moved his hand down to caress her thigh. “Let me
show you just how boring I am.”
Trixie let out a slight giggle as
she let Jim work his magic and slowly claim her body. Much like a very
similar evening ten years ago between the same two people, they became one
soul again as they celebrated each other’s love.
Saturday May
24, 1980
John F. Kennedy
Airport, New York
10:15 AM
Dan and Emily watched as Trixie
and Jim prepared for their departure to Hawaii for a week. Trixie’s parents arrived shortly before the take off so they could see their children off.
Seven-year-old Katje, Trixie and Jim’s oldest daughter, clung to her mother’s arm while Jim held five-year-old Aubrey. Both girls had inherited Jim’s dark red hair and freckles. Aubrey fussed as Jim handed her over to his father-in-law. Dan took note of how brave Katje was as Trixie and Jim said their good-byes. Her face worked a little as she tried to hold back her tears. She knew that they were coming back; she just didn’t
understand why she couldn’t go to Hawaii with them.
Dan and Emily chattered lightly
as they headed back to their home, built on the Wheeler game preserve just
a mile away from Mr. Maypenny’s old cabin. As they drove past, Dan
gave the cabin a slight, respectful salute.
“I sure do miss that old man,” Emily
sighed as she took a hold of her husband’s hand. “It’s almost as if
I still want to see smoke coming from the large kettle above the fire pit.”
“I know,” Dan replied. “I
have to remind myself some days that he’s gone and that if I want hunter’s
stew, I have to make it for myself.” Dan grinned as he pulled onto
the Mangan’s long driveway. “I guess I’m no stranger to loss, but there
are times I think it gets a little ridiculous. It seems like everyone
I ever cared about was somehow taken from me.”
“But you had Regan.”
“I know, but I went for years believing
he was dead. I didn’t even know I had an uncle until he showed up to
take me to Sleepyside.”
Emily grinned. “Well, some
people aren’t even that lucky. They are left with literally
no one.”
“I wish I had them back,” he sighed.
Emily said nothing. Dan was
able to read her facial expressions and knew she was thinking of something
else. In fact, she seemed to have the same expression Trixie had at
the diner last night.
“Come on, Emily. What gives?”
he asked.
Emily giggled. “It’s nothing,
Dan.”
“Oh no you don’t, Em,” he laughed.
“You can’t get anything past me anymore. I can read you like a book,
remember?”
“It’s nothing, Dan. Really.”
“Okay, Em, suit yourself.
You don’t have to tell me.” Dan knew full well that she’d tell him.
“Whatever you have going on in that brain of yours can just stay there.
I don’t need to know. It’s probably just female things that us men
wouldn’t know anything about.”
Emily’s eyes twinkled as she laughed.
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you. I was thinking about that middle-aged
man from the diner last night. He seemed to know us, or well, know
you guys at least.”
“Probably just some passerby or
whatever. I’ve never seen him before, and Trixie didn’t seem to recognize
him. She just thought he looked…dare I say it…mysterious.”
“Well, if he shows up again, I think
I might talk to him. He might want information about Sleepyside, or
surrounding areas. He might be lost.”
Dan pulled the car up into the driveway,
which circled around to the back of the cabin. “Try not to think of
him,” he said as he turned the car off. “He’s probably gone on to the
next town.”
Dan rolled over and rested his arm
across Emily’s waist. Her long, black hair tickled his nose a bit as
he rested his head close to hers. Her bare legs entwined with his as
he planted a small kiss on her ear. She sighed a bit and murmured something
incoherent. He blinked his eyes a bit and realized the moonlight was
pouring in through the window. As quiet as possible, he got out of
bed and reached for his sweat pants and put them on.
Dan padded over to the window to
pull the shade down. As he reached up for the shade, he noticed a slight
movement in the woods outside. He took a closer look, but didn’t see
anything.
“Probably just an animal,” he muttered
to himself and pulled the shade down.
Sunday May 25,
1980
The Mangan Cabin
Dan blinked awake early that morning
and noticed that the shade on the bedroom window proved useless as the daylight
seeped in, lighting up the entire room. Trying to be as quiet as he
could, Dan got dressed and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. As
it percolated, he scanned the contents of the refrigerator. He reached
in to retrieve the eggs, but stopped when he heard a knock at the door.
Dan peered through the kitchen window
and saw that it was none other than the same middle-aged man from Wimpy’s.
“May I help you?” Dan asked upon
opening the door. The stranger seemed tongue-tied as he stared at Dan.
The stranger had shaggy gray hair
with streaks of black in it. His blue eyes were framed with wrinkles
and black and gray thick eye-brows. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved
or changed clothes in days.
“Are you lost, sir?” Dan pried.
“Do you need to use the phone?”
“No,” the man croaked. “I…I…”
He stared at Dan for the longest time, hardly breathing. “I shouldn’t
have come here.” With that, he turned and hurried away.
“Wait!” Dan called after him and
ran after him. “What do you mean by that? Do I know you?”
He stopped and turned around.
“You did at one time. But not anymore.”
“‘Not anymore’?” Dan repeated.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
He turned to walk away, but Dan reached out and took him by the arm.
“What are you afraid of? Tell
me who you are. Maybe I can help you.”
The man’s blue eyes drifted from
Dan’s face to his neck. “Never mind,” he said again. “You must
have given up long ago.”
Dan was at a loss. He struggled
to make sense of the man’s actions and to put a name with the face.
Reading the actions of a fifty-something man was very different that what
he was used to. Trying to read minds and actions was part of his job
as a police officer, but this had him baffled.
“Given up on what?” Dan asked, still
holding on to the other man’s arm.
“Waiting.”
“Why don’t you go home?” Dan
wasn’t sure what to make of this man. He turned to face the man directly
and put a hand on each shoulder. “Are you feeling all right?
Do you need to eat something? Do you need to call someone?”
“No, Danny, I’m fine.”
Dan looked at the man suspiciously.
“Funny how you seem to know me, yet I don’t know you. It’s been literally
ages since anyone has called me ‘Danny’.”
The man gave Dan a withered look.
“I’m not surprised. You haven’t seen nor spoken to me in…” his voice
choked, “…in twenty-eight years.” A few tears came spilling down his
rugged face as he turned his head away from Dan. “Danny, where is that
chain with the airplane on it?” he asked, ignoring Dan’s question.
Suddenly Dan’s face went pale as
he automatically put his hand up to his neck, where he had worn the chain
until he joined the Cowhands. “It…it doesn’t, um, fit anymore.
How…how d-did you know about… You’re one of the men in Dad’s unit,
aren’t you?”
The man looked out into the game
preserve that surrounded the cabin. “I guess you were never told, Danny,
about your father.”
Dan narrowed his eyes. “My
father died in North Korea while on a mission. He was killed in a car
accident. I have the letter that was sent to my mother.”
“Car accident?” he replied in surprise.
“Is that what they told you?”
Dan was going to fling a quick response
back at the older man, but bit his tongue. “Who are you? Were
you in Korea?”
“Yes, I was in Korea. I’ve
been in Korea since 1953, when your father died in this ‘car accident.’”
“You didn’t answer my question.
Who are you?”
Dan looked into the stranger’s anxious
blue eyes. Why doesn’t he just
come out and say who he is? Dan thought to himself.
“I would like to explain,” the man
said quietly. “Do you mind if we go inside?”
Dan didn’t answer right away.
He stared at the disheveled man for a bit. It hurt to think of his
father and how he died. Dan was only four years old when Tim Mangan
was killed. He grew up wondering what his father was like, how things
happened in Korea, and what his life would have been like had his father
lived. But still, how did this stranger happen to know certain things?
Who was
this man?
“I would like to know about him,”
Dan said. “I was only four.” He still hadn’t taken his hand down
from his neck, where the chain once hung twenty-some years ago. “Emily
should be up by now. Let me check to make sure she’s decent before
I invite you in.” Numbly, Dan turned and headed back up the steps of
the cabin.
“Emily?” he called down the hallway.
“You up?”
His wife appeared in the doorway
of the bedroom, tucking her blouse into her jeans. “Coffee smells great,
Dan,” she started but suddenly noticed his face, still pale in color.
“What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing, Em. I just wanted
to make sure you were decent. We’ve…we’ve got company.”
“What’s wrong, Dan?”
“Remember that stranger from the
diner? The one that Trixie thought was so mysterious?”
Emily nodded as she zipped her jeans.
“What about him? He didn’t follow us here, did he?”
“I’m afraid he did. But, there’s
nothing to worry about.” Dan wrapped his arms around her and planted
a kiss on her forehead. “He’s someone who knew Dad in Korea.
He came here to talk with me. That’s all.”
She let out a sigh of relief.
“That’s good. I thought that we were gonna have to call the police.”
Dan chuckled. “Hey, I am the police in this house, remember?”
“That’s right, but just keep in
mind who wears the handcuffs in this family,” she murmured in his ear as
she slid her hands down and squeezed his butt.
Dan laughed. “Not now, Em.
Later, I promise. Company, remember?”
She pulled away and giggled.
“Why don’t you invite him in for breakfast. I have to leave in a minute
for my doctor appointment.”
“Oh, I forgot about that.
How long will it take?”
“It’s just a routine check-up, Dan.
It’ll probably take me probably half and hour tops.” She headed for
the bathroom. “Invite him in, Dan. Once I do my hair, I’m leaving
so you two can talk guy stuff.” She plugged in her curling iron and
ran a brush through her hair.
Dan headed back down the hallway
and through the kitchen. The stranger was still waiting for him.
“You can come on in, mister.”
Nervously, the man came in and stood
in the kitchen. He looked around and took in the Rustic and Eastern
Indian décor. As Dan poured coffee, a tall woman with a slim
build and dark skin and hair came into the kitchen.
“Have a seat,” Dan said, gesturing
to the table. “Emily this is…” He looked at the man blankly.
“It just occurred to me that I never got your name.”
“Patrick,” he answered nervously.
“Patrick, this is my wife, Emily.”
He reached his hand out and shook
hers. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t force
himself to.
“I would love to stay, but I can’t,”
she said and grabbed her jacket and purse. “But, I’m sure you two will
have plenty to talk about.” After a quick kiss from Dan, she waved
at Patrick and left.
“You have a beautiful wife, Danny,”
Patrick said, trying to make small talk to ease the awkward silence.
“How long have you been married?”
“Almost seven years,” he answered.
Both men took sips from their mugs,
creating another moment of awkward silence. Dan couldn’t really think
of where to begin. There had never been anyone around could who could
answer any questions he ever had about his father. Now there was, and
Dan didn’t know where to begin.
“I suppose you want the truth,”
Patrick said quietly, lowering his dark blue eyes to his coffee mug.
“The truth?”
He set his coffee mug down on the
wooden table and folded his hands. “Your father was not killed in that
‘car accident’ that the letter spoke of.”
Dan felt taken aback by Patrick’s
words. “Then how did he die?”
“Let me explain further. My
memory is a little rusty since this was so long ago, but let me try.
It was February, and we were stationed just on the South Korean border. We
were one of the units who would receive severely wounded soldiers who were
stationed in Communist North Korea. The Koreans had bombed a MASH unit
along the boarder and our unit was instructed to head over and bring any
survivors up to our hospital to recover.” Patrick paused, trying to
remember those events. “What happened on our way back is when the so
called ‘car accident’ happened. We were in the last jeep in the caravan
with most of the medical equipment that was used for on-site first aid.
I’d say we were a little ways behind the rest because of having to haul the
equipment."
“What happened next is something
that’s always been rather foggy in my memory. Maybe I’ve always tried
to forget it. I’m not sure. We were riding along, in broad daylight,
listening to the worst rendition of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” sung in Korean
over the radio. It’s about the one thing there was to listen to over
there. We were about halfway back when we were ambushed by Koreans
who had sneaked over amidst all the action. It’s amazing how much goes
unnoticed when too much is happening around you. I think they were
hoping to find a ranking officer in the jeep, but once they realized that
we were just privates, they were disappointed.
“Looking back on it, it seemed very
surreal. They were fierce with their tactics as they dealt with us.
All they had time to do was grab four of us while the others fired a few
hundred rounds into the jeep, killing the rest of the men. We were
taken into the forest and held to the ground by gunpoint as they removed
our tags and fatigues. We were stripped naked. They threw our
clothes into the jeep and fired directly at the gas tank. Within seconds,
the jeep had ignited and burst into flames. It all happened so fast,
Danny. Before we knew it, the four of us were being carted across the
border. We were prisoners.”
Dan took a deep breath. Either
way, he knew that whether or not he died in the jeep, or was one of the men
carted away, he still had died.
“So Dad must’ve died in the fire.”
“No, Danny,” said Patrick.
“Your father was one of the men who was taken captive.”
“But the Military never told Mom
that. They sent her a letter. I still have it if you’d like to
see it.”
Patrick nodded. “I would.”
Dan stood up from the table and
headed for the cedar chest in the living room. Different keepsakes
and tangible memories were stashed away in this chest: photo albums,
scrapbooks, Dan’s black leather jacket, Emily’s wedding saree, and a wooden
box that held his father’s uniform, pictures, and letters. He lifted
the heavy box and carried over to the table.
The crisp green uniform was pulled
out first, followed by a journal, a scrapbook, and a series of envelopes,
most of which were addressed to Megan Mangan, Dan’s mother.
“I never look at them,” Dan said
as he spread the letters out on the table. “It’s just too painful.”
Patrick said nothing, but just nodded
his gray head.
Dan felt an envelope and pulled
out the letter. Inside the letter, were his father’s dog tags.
“This is it, Patrick.” Dan handed the letter to the older man.
“In that letter, I’m sure it states that my father, Tim Mangan, died in a
car accident in Korea.”
Hands shaking, Patrick unfolded
the letter.
Dear Mrs. Timothy
W. Mangan,
It is with deepest
regret to inform you of your husband’s death. On February 26, 1952,
your husband, Private Timothy Winston Mangan, was killed in a car accident
while on a mission near the North and South Korean border.
It was requested
by Private Mangan that upon his death, you be contacted first and receive
his belongings, which will be presented to you at a later date.
Please understand
that your husband died while serving this grand country.
Funeral arrangements
are in progress and we will be contacting you with further information.
Again, our deepest
regrets to both you and your son.
Sincerely,
Gen. James A.
Hoffmann, United States Military
Col. Marvin
N. O’Reilly, United States Army
“Your mother should’ve received
a different letter, possibly dated a few years later,” Patrick said, still
holding the letter and tags.
“To my knowledge, that’s the only
letter she received. She died before she could tell me much,” Dan said,
sitting back down again and taking another sip of his coffee. “Then
again, I was always off with my friends causing trouble, never giving her
much of a chance to tell me anything.”
“Megan’s dead?” Patrick asked, almost
too quickly. Dan noticed this and wondered if this man knew his mother
and father before the war.
“Mom died when I was thirteen.”
This news seemed to hit Patrick
rather hard…too hard. As Dan picked up the scrapbook, a photo fell
out and landed on the table face up. Patrick reached over and lightly
picked up the photo.
“Oh, God I’ve missed her so much,”
he mumbled and then caught himself and clapped a hand over his mouth.
Dan stopped what he was doing and
stared at Patrick. “What do you mean by that?” Without giving
Patrick time to answer, Dan continued. “You know something, you’ve
acted weird this whole time. Now you see a picture of Mom, Dad, and
myself and you say something that you obviously didn’t plan on saying.”
Dan braced himself on the table and leaned over to look the man in the eye.
“Out with it, man,” he demanded. “Who are you really? You come
here and act as if I should know, then you give me some yarn about how my
Dad wasn’t killed after all and how he was taken prisoner instead.
Here’s a question for you, Patrick: If my dad is still alive, then
whose funeral did we attend?”
“Think back to that funeral, Danny,”
Patrick snapped. “Was there a body?”
Dan let his head hang as he closed
his eyes and thought back twenty-eight years to the funeral services held
by Father McKinney at the church on Van Buren Avenue. There were flowers,
Jesus on the Cross, a small photo of Dad, an American Flag, and all who were
present were Mrs. Dempsey, Mom, and myself. Father McKinney said a
few things and a prayer. Flowers, Jesus, Cross, photo, Mom, Mrs. Dempsey,
Father McKinney, and myself. A few men in uniform showed up to talk
with Mom. There was no coffin—no body.
“It’s still impossible,” Dan said
when he lifted his head to find Patrick staring at him. “He would’ve
come back to us.”
“Would he really have?”
“What the hell’s that supposed to
mean?” Dan snapped, his eyes narrowing and turning a colder shade of blue.
“You trying to say that my father would just abandon us? No.
He was killed.”
“What about pensions?” Patrick asked.
Dan began to stack the envelopes
and pictures and snatched the letter and tags away from Patrick. “Pensions?
There was no pension. We were poorer than poor. Mom died from
exhaustion. She worked herself to death. My father wouldn’t have
abandoned us to live the way we did.”
“When a soldier dies, whether it
be in battle or not, the widow is entitled to a pension. Children are
taken care of. College money is even available. Had I died in
Korea, you and Megan would’ve been taken care of, no questions asked!”
“What did you just say?” Dan said,
stopping what he was doing.
“I…I…”
Dan set the photo album down on
the table again along with the letters. “I could’ve sworn that you
just told me that you’re my dad.”
He took a deep breath. “You
know, I had twenty-eight years to think of what I would say if I was ever
given the chance to meet my son again. I had many things rehearsed.
But, over the years, things begin to fade.” A few tears escaped as
he lowered his head in his hands. “I knew it was going to be a hard
thing to do, but I had to do it. I had to before I forgot about you
all together.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “My name is not
Patrick, Danny. You know who I am now.”
Dan slowly sat down and lightly
gripped the edge of the table, as if to steady himself. “Excuse me,
I need to…” His voice caught. “He slowly stood up and numbly headed for the bedroom.
He closed the door behind him, sat
down on Emily’s side of the bed and stared out the window at the game preserve.
Emotions flooded over him as his vision grew blurry with tears.
Forgotten?
How could he have forgotten Mom and me? Mom was the woman he adored
so much and couldn’t wait to have back in his arms. Was it all a lie?
Did he ever plan to come back home? If he never had any plans to, why
show up now? My life was fine until he showed up! It’s like my
image of him has been scarred for life. He might as well be dead now.
He’s dead to me at least!
The tears came freely now.
Sobs from deep within came pouring out as he lay his head down on Emily’s
pillow.
All the years!
One big lie!
One excruciatingly
painful lie…
He didn’t hear the bedroom door
open. Rather, he felt someone sit down on the bed. Dan didn’t
even look up at him.
“What gives you the right to just
walk into my life nearly thirty years later just assuming that I’d be happy
to see you? Mom worked so hard!” Dan paused to dry his tears
and open his bloodshot eyes. “I remember Mom’s sobs at night and how
Mrs. Dempsey would come to her room and comfort her. That’s not how
it should’ve happened. You were supposed to come home so we could once
again be a family.”
“I know you’re hurt, Danny.
I don’t blame you. And, when I came here, I didn’t expect that you
would just take me back into your life again. I won’t be surprised
if you told me just how much you despised me, and how much I screwed your
life up for you.” Tim rested his hand on Dan’s arm. “I came back
here because you needed to know the truth.”
“No offense, um…dad,” Dan said as
he sat up and looked down at his hands. He wasn’t sure of what he was
going to say next, but he was going to say it anyway. “But I think
I could’ve gone on with my life believing you were dead. Now, I’ll
live the rest of my life knowing that my father didn’t care enough about
us to come back home.”
“You know, everything I told you
was true. The Koreans took us to their prison camps.” Tim looked
over at his son. “They did give us an opportunity to leave, however.”
Dan glared at his father.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I was young, Dan.
I was impressionable. I made decisions based on what I didn’t know
was deceitful actions and unfair advantages the Koreans had over us.
There were 23 of us who were held captive at the camp. We were told
repeatedly that if we were to go back to the States, they would kill us.
We didn’t know this at the time, but they would leak so-called Communist
information to us until we felt we had a full understanding of what it was.
Then they would tell us daily that if we were to go back to the states, due
to the fact that we were now spies, we would be killed.”
Dan shook his head. “But wouldn’t
you do it for your country?”
Tim laughed. “Country?
The things they said scared us, Dan. We were all twenty-year-old kids
without a clue. A few weren’t even married. When one of them
challenged the Koreans, he was beaten severely for it. Country or no
country, I wasn’t about to die for anyone or anything. I didn’t even
want to be over there in the first place, and now I was facing death.
Tell me, Dan, at twenty, would you have done the same? Do you know
what it’s like to be scared? I’m talking sweating blood scared?”
Dan’s eyes bore a hole through his
father’s eyes. At twenty, I was
in training to become a police officer. At twenty, I knew what I wanted
to do.
Tim continued. “They have
probably made movies about this war by now, and I’m sure some of it has a
hint of truth to it from certain points of view. But not much of it
is from the viewpoint of a prisoner of war who was scared to death.
They never show anything that really happened. And since you’re Tim
Mangan’s son, you have a right to know the truth.”
Remember when you were young,
You shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there's a look in your eyes,
Like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
You were caught on the crossfire
Of childhood and stardom,
Blown on the steel breeze.
Come on you target for faraway laughter,
Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr,
and shine!
You reached for the secret too soon,
You cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night,
And exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome
With random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner,
and shine!
To be continued…
Disclaimer: All characters
with the exception of Emily are property of Randomhouse and were used without
permission.
A big, big Bob-White thanks to Dana
for all her information about the Korean War. Without her expertise,
this story would probably have just been an idea that would never get written
down. And an equal size thank you goes out to Mary, who is left with
no hair as she corrected all my grammatical errors and edited this for me.
Thank you, Dana and Mary! You guys are the best!!!
An Honorary Bob-White whistle goes out to Chelsea and Pat for answering my "Military Help" request at Zap's. You guys are the best!!!
The title of this trilogy is taken
from the phrase: “No man is and island.”
Coca-Cola and Cherry Coke are products
of the Coca-Cola Corporation and were used without permission.
The title for Part One and the lyrics
at the end are taken from “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” by Pink Floyd.
Used without permission.
Emily is a character that gets little
to no airtime in this one because I haven’t actually introduced her yet.
She is coming up soon. I promise. :)
The “airplane necklace” that Dan
and Tim refer to first appeared in Daniel Mangan’s chapter of “Canon in Sleepyside
– Daniel Mangan – The Jazzman’s Son”. Tim gave it to Dan the day he
left for Korea.
Mrs. Dempsey is from “Canon in Sleepyside
– Daniel Mangan – The Jazzman’s Son”. She was the Mangan’s next-door
neighbor and gave Megan and Dan a home while Tim was off to war.
The letter explaining Tim Mangan’s
death is taken from “Canon in Sleepyside – Daniel Mangan – The Jazzman’s
Son”. This letter was delivered to Megan Mangan.
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