Chapter 39
(original posting starting on September 11,
2011)
Prologue
September
11, 2002
Vincent
Abate, Scott Matthew Davidson, Shannon Fava, Charles Kasper, Ganesh Ladkat,
Catherine Nardella, Lt. Daniel O’Callaghan, Deepa Pakkala, Shawn Powell…
He
stood, numb, listening to the endless drone of names being read.
Though he was only one of many, the crowd around him was silent, the only
sound the continuous roll call of the dead.
When one voice grew hoarse with exhaustion or emotion, another picked up
and carried on.
Ye
Wei Liang, Jude Moussa, Ann Nicole Nelson, Edward Rall, Capt. Timothy Stackpole,
Maurita Tam, Michael Uliano, Peter Vega, Barbara Walsh...
It
was unfathomable to him, this requiem. Not
honored war dead from decades past but his contemporaries, people he worked
with, went to school with, ate with, shopped with.
Not soldiers but innocent victims of terrorism.
Alexander
Napier? Did he ever bump elbows with
him on a crowded subway? Jennifer
Kane? Did she ever flirt with him at
a hip nightclub in the Village? Azael
Vasquez? Did he deliver empanadas
and tacos to him in the wee hours of the morning while he was pulling an
all-nighter during med school?
As
soon as he had looked at the schedule and learned he would not be working today,
he knew he would end up here, drawn inexplicably to this stark patch of nothing
in the middle of the largest, busiest city in the United States.
Patrick
Adams, Clinton Davis Sr., Lt. Harvey Harrell, Allison Horstmann Jones, Douglas
Karpiloff, Wanda Prince, Gregory Sikorsky, Suzanne Youmans...
When
he had arrived, he had seen Trixie near the temporary stage talking to a guy in
a black suit similar to hers. Simon
assumed the preternaturally tall man was a fellow agent and as he wasn’t
currently in Trixie’s good graces anyway, he didn’t interrupt to say hello.
While looking for a place to stand, he had also spotted Brian in his lab
coat. He was with Honey, Diana and
Tad but none of them saw him and he decided he’d rather be alone than go join
the two couples.
Yvonne Bonomo,
Sgt. Michael
Curtin, Margaret Echtermann, Gayle Greene, Anthony Infante Jr., Carlos Morales, Michael
Chung Ou, Scott Rohner, Amy Toyen…
Some
wept, some clung to loved ones, others—like him—stood as if in shock, unable
to comprehend the volume of loss on one sunny autumn morning ... was it really
just a year ago?
How
many others, not on that list, were dead? Emotionally,
spiritually, walking like zombies among the living, struggling to go on?
How had he been so lucky to survive? He
knew it was due in no small part to Hallie Belden.
Not by anything specific she had said or done but merely by her presence,
by showing him that something beautiful and good still existed in the world.
To
think that he could destroy such hope in one careless night.
Carl
Asaro, Gerard Baptiste, Debra DiMartino, Steven Furman, Ervin Gailliard,
Stephanie Irby, Luis Jimenez Jr., William Krukowski, Beth Quigley...
They
had made amends. They had agreed to
a peace treaty for the sake of their family and friends.
But that was all. Though he
could still feel the heat between them, though he was certain she did too, she
kept her distance. Always polite.
Always cordial. Always with a
flicker of regret in her eyes but also a flicker of distrust.
He
had created that wariness in her.
He
shut his eyes and inwardly cringed at the memory.
Last
weekend in Indian Lake was the clincher. She
hadn’t come out to the woods to see him. She
hadn’t come to the Founder’s Day fair. She
hadn’t responded to his heartfelt letter at all.
The only time he had seen her was at church and that was only because
Sally had arranged it. As soon as
the service was over, Hallie had made her excuses and gone home.
She
didn’t want to see him.
As
the toll of the dead continued, he wondered how long he could stay and listen.
But then he wondered if it would be disrespectful to leave. He
stared at his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets, contemplating his options but
beyond really caring.
Christopher
Colasanti, Lisa Egan, Nizam Hafiz, Robert Hamilton, Andrew Jordan, Maureen
Olson, Lt. Michael Quilty, Ruben Solares, Kevin York, Adel Zakhary…
Her
touch caught him by surprise. She
wrapped her hand around his arm and slid her long, thin fingers into the crook
of his elbow.
He
turned slowly—so very slowly—to stare at her, afraid any sudden movement
would make the glorious mirage of her disappear.
She
stared straight ahead, her focus elsewhere and nowhere, as seemingly unaware of
him as if she was merely holding onto a lamppost for support.
He
turned to face forward with her, not speaking for fear of losing the magic of
the moment, and after another dozen or so names had been read off, she leaned
her head against his shoulder with a whispered sigh.
And
that was all.
Things
were winding down—chairs folded, microphones put away, extension cords wound
up—yet still they stood there, an island of two as the sea of humanity flowed
past them.
He
opened his mouth but she spoke first.
“Simon
Drake, take me home with you.”
His
heart flew into his throat, mercifully blocking whatever response he had been
ready to blurt out. He closed his
eyes and fought silently with himself—with the lustful, feral Simon who wanted
to shout, “Yes! Hell, yes!”
“Did
you drive or take the train down?” he asked, when Good Simon had finally
wrested control.
“The train.”
“Are
you staying with Diana and Tad tonight?”
“I want to stay with you,” she said softly.
“No,”
he replied with extreme reluctance. “Not
like this. I don’t want there to
be any excuses this time that we acted out of overwrought emotions and physical
need.”
He paused to let his words sink in, then added as a consolation, “How about I
take you to dinner? I’ll drop you
off at Diana’s afterward.”
Her
voice was small as she asked, “Is there someone else?”
“No, Hallie Belden.” He turned his head and pressed his lips lightly against her temple. “There will never be anyone else again.”
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Author's Notes
Prologue (1,035 words)
All names listed are 9/11 victims from the World Trade Center, found here, including that of Lt. Daniel O'Callaghan, which I stumbled on purely by accident after indicating in Chapter 35-Locked Out that Dan's sometimes partner Aidan O'Callaghan had lost a brother on 9/11. Also included is Margaret Echtermann, my friend Susan's second cousin.
I didn’t find a lot of specific detail on what exactly went on that first anniversary at Ground Zero, so my apologies if am off in my story. I pieced together ideas from photos found here and a Presidential address found here.
Story header photo/title is from Istock.com and was created by Mary N (Dianafan) to look just so gorgeous I could cry! Thank you Mary! The photo is of the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. Vine section divider is from Webweaver.