Chapter 39

I’d given my okay to put myself on exhibit because of the fact that Lieutenant Claire had gone out on a limb to get me on the show. And, because I saw it as an opportunity to make some serious points with my son, oh yeah. Was I thinking rightly—arguable—but it was my thinking and I was going to play it through to the bitter end.

“So, you gave in without a fight,” said Jeffrey.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “Well she does outrank me, us.”

“Hmm,” he said.

“So you coming to the big expose?” I said.

“You think I’d; miss an opportunity to see you embarrass the United States Army?” he said. “Of course I’ll be there with rotten tomatoes and everything!”

“Well, good. Try not to be too critical, if you don’t mind, I am handicapped you know,” I said. My friend forever just laughed.

I was still in the guest house. By that I mean I had not left it for any reason since my first foray inside the main structure of castle Cord on the first day I’d arrived, now four days gone. I had gotten two visits in my time alone: one from Owen and one from Abigail. The kids had gone home after that first day; well, they did have lives. Ronald of course was holed up on the hill and that was fine.

I hadn’t talked to Claire since she’d come by to inform me of my fate per this coming Friday. That would be tomorrow. I was nervous. I wasn’t nervous for me, no. I was nervous for my son. He would be on the show too. Well, Claire said that he would be. She’d been going to talk to Owen and make sure it would be all right. It did bother me that I didn’t have a say in having, my son be with me on my big night, that it was up to them the Cords. Talk about proof that I had no say in how the kids were raised and dealt with.

“He wants what!” said Abigail.

“He wants Ronald to share the stage with him,” said Owen.

“With all of those injured and disfigured soldiers!” she said. “Owen, do you think that’s a good idea? He’s only ten years-old. “The images his young mind is going to be exposed to! I just don’t know.”

“So, you’re going to prove to him that he really doesn’t have any say in the raising of his children,” said Owen. She took a step back at the man’s tone of voice.

“Well I...” she started. “I mean no. It’s not that. Maybe if I went to him and asked him if he’d thought it through what he was asking the boy to do,” she said.

“Absolutely not! If you did, we’d be back to the way it was after the fiasco at the wedding,” he said.

“No, he gets to make decisions just like us. We are not going to gainsay the man on any subject where the children are not in actual immediate physical danger. And even then; he will be listened to and respected,” said Owen. She nodded, but it was clear that she was not in agreement with her man.

She left him standing there and went to their room. She had to think. Was her husband right? He usually was. She had never tried to undercut or even question his decisions. But this was about her children, her son. Okay, and Sam’s son too. But, she could see a serious set of downsides to his being on that stage, and the upsides were nowhere near as compelling. Did she dare to intervene? Did she even dare to ask the man to think about his desire to have the boy with him? No, she didn’t, dare that is. She’d just have to cross her fingers and hope for the best.

I was once again picked up by Claire to go to a venue of somebody else’s choice, this time her choice.

“Nervous,” she said. I was the only passenger. She was talking to me.

“A little. Is Owen bringing Ronald?” I said.

“Don’t know. I would guess it would be the two of them,” she said.

“Abigail and Owen?” I said.

“Yes. I did talk to him about it. He said he would. They’ll be there. The twins too if I have it right,” said Claire.

“Okay, good,” said.

We were not the only vets to be feted on the show. Cable-9 was noted for its recognition of veteran groups especially wounded vets like us.

Claire wheeled me into the ready room. Women were powdering a face here and there to reduce glare as we were told. Then it was time for the show. Claire was my caretaker for the next forty-five minutes. She wheeled me out on the stage I was looking around for my little man, but he wasn’t there. Not on the stage.

“Claire?” I said.

“I don’t know. I’ll go check. They left before we did I think. But, I’ll go check,” she said. I nodded.

“They wouldn’t have not come. I was certain of that. Well, I had been certain.

The program continued. It was maybe fifteen minutes into the show. I hadn’t been asked anything to that point. Claire came back.

“They’re all here except Abigail and Ronald,” she said. “Owen is going to check for me.”

Then I saw her, Abigail. She’d come in and Ronald was with her, but they took seats in the gallery not on the stage. The interviewer came up to me with a microphone.

“And Mister Bradshaw...” she questioned me for a couple of minutes about the incident in the Hindu Kush. I hear your son is going to be here on the stage with you,” she said. She looked around. No movement from the gallery where Abigail and my son were stationed.

“I guess he couldn’t make it,” I said. I saw Owen wave at me. He was in the second row. Abigail and Ronald were far in the back. I don’t even know if he knew they were there. I did but him? I’d been the last interviewee. There turned out to be a reason for that.

“And ladies and gentlemen we have a very special guest for this very special soldier tonight. “General Shelby, will you please come out on the stage,” the lady said.

The now four-star general came out and he had with him a small box he was holding in his hand.

He came up to me. “Sergeant Bradshaw, the Army of the United States and in concert with the Congress of the United States wish to present to you the Distinguished Service Cross for valor in combat with the forces of the enemies of the our country.” He handed me the medal. I thanked him, but I was staring out into the auditorium where I knew my ex-wife and our son were though I could not see them anymore. Everybody was standing and applauding. My Silver Star had been upgraded. I saw the hand of Claire Cunningham in this one, and maybe even Owen, unlikely as that might have been. I could not have guessed how he would have been an influence in that one, money or no money.

I was mortally disappointed that my boy had not been up on the stage with me, but more than that, I could not understand why! There was no good reason.

The show ended. And Claire wheeled me out to the back of the stage and Owen and the twins were there to greet me, but no Abigail or Ronald, not at first.

“Here they are,” said Owen.

“Dad,” said Ronald. “That is so cool.” He took my medal and was holding it in his hand.