Spiral

because his real love outside the military was sailing. Helides graduated West Point while most of us came from ROTC programs, but the man treated us all as sons. And in a bar one night when he wasn’t around—the Skipper drank alcohol but never cursed and didn’t suffer gladly those who did—six or seven of us took one of those expletive-laden, drunks-in-arms oaths to watch out for him like we would our own fathers. In the end, of course, Helides was the one who watched out for us, especially during the all-night horrors of the Tet Offensive, keeping us together—and almost sane—as we lost whole squads of our troopers behind barricades of Jeeps, the MPs standing their ground against Viet Cong armed with AK-47s when all we had were the .45 calibre Colts drawn from our hoi— ”John, you are still there?”
    ”Sor—” Last time with the apologies. Last time.
    ”John?”
    ”I just kind of... zoned out for a minute. The Skipper died?”
    ”No,” said Justo. ”No, he has had his share of health problems, but that is not why I am calling you for him.”
    For him. ”What’s the trouble then?”
    ”If you do not know already, I think the Skipper would want to tell you this himself.”
    If I didn’t... Shaking my head, I finally started focusing. ”He’s in Florida, then?”
    ”Yes, but not Miami. Up in Broward.”
    ”Broward.”
    ”The county, which for you is the Fort Lauderdale area, twenty miles and a little north of here.”
    ”Justo, the Skipper wants me for something... professional?”
    ”Correct.”
    ‘You might remember, I’m not licensed down there.”
    ”It will not be a difficulty in this situation.”
    ”What situation?”
    ”As I said, if you do not know already—”
    ”—the Skipper wants to tell me himself.”
    ”Yes.”
    ”And not over the telephone.”
    ”For a good reason, I believe.”
    I considered it. Surrogate father, surrogate son. And then I realized something else.
    For the first time in almost two weeks, I hadn’t thought about Nancy for five minutes.
    ”John, if this is truly a bad time...”
    ”No, Justo. No. I’ll be there.”
    ”I am very glad you will come.” A different tone of voice now. Relief, maybe? ”And do not worry. We will fly you into Fort Lauderdale, and I will have you picked up by Pepe—you remember him, yes?”
    ”Tough guy to forget.”
    A musical laugh. ”And he has become only more so. However, my Alicia and our three daughters love him, and I could not do without his help. When can you leave Boston?” In my mind, I went back over what I’d seen at the office that day. ”How about tomorrow morning?”
    ”Excellent. You have a preference among the airlines?”
    ”One flight’s about the same as another,” I said.
    Which did make me think of Nancy, and of how stupid my last comment would forever sound.

TWO

    In fact, until the plane was ready to leave, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk onto it.
    Things weren’t helped any by the people around me in the shared departure area at Logan, either. Across from my row of seats sat an elderly man in a wheelchair, wearing a cardigan sweater and a watch cap, booked on a later flight to Miami than mine for Fort Lauderdale. Flanking him were his sixtyish daughter and son-in-law, whose conversation seemed fixated on coffee.
    She said to her husband, ”What are you buying him coffee for now?”
    ”Your father wanted it for the plane.”
    ”They seat him, they’ll bring him coffee.”
    ”He told me they don’t bring it when he wants it.”
    ”Of course they don’t. It’d spill when the plane moves.”
    I watched the old man, smiling happily, his head following the conversation like a spectator on the sidelines of a tennis match.
    ”So,” said the son-in-law, ”this way your father’ll have it first.”
    ”No, this way he’ll spill it first.”
    ”It’s just a small cup.”
    ”So, that means it won’t spill?”
    ”No, that means he’ll finish the thing by the time the plane’s moving.”
    The daughter upped the ante. ”How’s my father gonna finish that much coffee without having to go pee-pee?”
    ”Now I’ve got to worry, will they take him to the bathroom?”
    The old man’s smile broadened. One of his remaining joys clearly was watching two experienced opponents pound away at each other.
    The gate agent called my own flight. Walking toward the jetway, I found myself thinking, After this reduced, elderly man, it will be good to see the Skipper