Chapter 9
They opened the door to Mack’s Diner and walked in at 9:00 AM on a Thursday morning. The restaurant was busy, with smells of strong coffee, fresh bacon, and warm biscuits, and the room was loud with chatter. Evelyn greeted them at the door, two menus in hand. Had she seen them pull in and park in Molly’s jeep?
“Good morning, Molly. Two for breakfast?” Evelyn was all friendly business.
“Thank you, Evelyn. This is my friend Bart McKinnon.”
“Nice to meet you, Bart. I remember you from prior visits.”
“Yes, I like the rib-eye.”
She seated them at the best table available in the middle of the room.
Molly said to Bart, “It won’t be five minutes before Betsy from the store just happens to drop by. I guarantee it. Evelyn and Betsy are thick as thieves.”
They studied the menu, Molly kicking Bart under the table when Betsy walked in to talk with Evelyn. “Okay, success. Job done. We’re no longer gossip. It’s out in the open. No secrets. Thank you for coming.”
Bart nodded, but didn’t say much during breakfast. He wasn’t the easy going, light-hearted guy she’d spent the eveningwith. He seemed uncomfortable, constantly surveying the room, on edge.
Finally, she asked, “You okay?”
“Fine. Not my thing being in a crowded room.”
She thought about that. He was a loner. Lived in the wild. Kept to himself. Was recovering from PTSD. Didn’t like being in a crowd. She appreciated his doing this as a favor, but wasn’t sure what to make of it.
She was seeing a different person than the mountain man staying at her cabin.
Molly steered the open air Jeep around the twisty turns of Summer Lake Road. Shadow and Bear were sitting in the back, noses in the air, the warm, late morning breeze felt good.
Bart’s reaction to the crowded dining room was on her mind. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about your military disability? I mean, I understand you have PTSD from your service. But, honestly, you seem pretty normal to me. I can’t see or feel a disability.” She paused, looking over at him. She wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her question, but they were going to talk with his therapist, and she wanted more context. She added, “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
He didn’t answer right away. Molly looked over at him several times. He’d heard her. She assumed he was processing his response.
“It’s both complicated and simple.” He paused. “The simple part is that the Army feels guilty about what this war has done to its best soldiers. There are many more instances than just Roddy killing a man in a bar fight. A lot of good soldiers came homefrom Afghanistan and got involved in violence. The army’s post war reentry program didn’t work. We didn’t properly reenter, and instead became liabilities. So the simple answer is that the disabilities represent guilt money. The army is paying us off to keep us quiet and out of the way.”
“Okay, I get that. You mentioned that before. What’s the complicated part?”
“The basis for my disability is that I’m not employable due to the PTSD. That’s the army deciding I can’t be trusted in routine nonmilitary employment. The concern is that I could go off like Roddy at any time. If so, I end up in prison and the military suffers bad press and pays damages in a lawsuit. So it’s better to keep us out of the employment world, at least for a while.”
“You seem pretty together to me.”
“This is eight years later. I’m a lot better than when I returned. But, as you could see, I was not comfortable in that crowded room of people. I was watching the door and constantly scanning the room for trouble. Who knows how many people in that room were wearing bombs under their coats? I was imagining what I’d do if an ambush came out of the kitchen. I understand that wasn’t going to happen, but I’m trained to think like that. I was on high alert, prepared to protect you from any contingency that could arise.”
That caught Molly off guard and silenced her for a minute. She’d sensed that at breakfast, but his explanation pulled it together. He was still seriously damaged. The army might be right. Maybe he wasn’t ready for society. His therapist was fine with him staying in the wild. Molly didn’t know what to say as she steered the Jeep around a few more bends in the road.
Finally, she said, “Thank you for telling me that. I understand better.” She paused. “But you’ve been in that dining room before.”
“Yes, I come at odd hours, like late afternoon or before closing when it’s not busy. Gloria wants me to periodically go to public places, and I have to report in to her on that. That’s part of what I’m doing today.”
Molly listened as he continued. “When I was in the diner before, I sat in a quiet corner where I could see the entire room, and it felt safe being alone. I don’t worry about myself. Sitting with you in crowded room is unsettling. I’m trained to protect the people I’m with.”
“I see.” Molly wasn’t sure where to take the conversation, then remembered they hadn’t finished the original discussion about the disability. “Are there other complications to the disability?”
They were at the intersection of Summer Lake Road and the main highway into Omak. She waited for an opening and gunned her powerful V-8 Jeep out onto the two-lane road. Shadow barked her approval of the faster speed. She liked the wind in her face.
“Well, this is kind of weird, but the other guys are convinced it’s a factor.”
“What’s that?”
