The Adored (38 page)

“I’m coming back in three days.” Johnson said assuredly.

“What? There’s a thing called my wedding on Saturday,” Trout said incredulously.

“I know. I’ll be there, you know that. I’ve got a lot to take care of in a short period of time.”

“Tray, like what? What can’t wait?”

“Well, I’ve got to talk with my father. I want Silvana and her daughter to move into the guesthouse while I’m gone,” as Johnson said this Trout just shook his head. “Then I’ve got to plan the next year to get assigned back here as quick as possible.”

“You start thinking like that and you’ll get your head blown off when you go back to Kabul. You keep focused. If she’s still here when you come home, then go see her. But after four days Tray, to upset your whole life, it’s not good.”

“Look, Winny, don’t say anything to the other guys.”

“Don’t say anything? That’s all they’re talking about. ‘Who’s cast a spell on Tray? Who’s this mysterious spirit who knocked Tray senseless?’ Seriously, none of us have ever seen you like this.”

“Me neither,” Johnson concluded.

Chapter 50

On his return from San Juan, Tray Johnson was met at Kennedy Airport by his father, the Admiral. Tray had taken a speaking engagement for the Greenwich Veterans of Foreign Wars, and his father drove him to the Burning Tree Country Club to give the talk.

He was introduced warmly to the audience of roughly two hundred men as one of Greenwich’s own. Tray Johnson was Brunswick School alum, the son of a Rear Admiral, a US Naval Academy graduate, and currently a Lieutenant and Navy Seal serving in Afghanistan. The applause for each life stage Johnson passed through was long and well meant. His speech had been prepared more than two months before as he agreed to speak at the request of his father, who was a member of both the Veterans group and the Country Club.

“Finally,” Lt. Traynor Johnson spoke to the rapt attention of those who had served before him, and while listening to him, realized they were being well represented now, “territorialism is one of life’s most primitive manifestations. Trees battle adjacent trees for light in a silent overhead war. Ant colonies destroy one another over the invasion of a tunnel system. The Native American Indian fought to the death for what was part of his existence: land, more than that, the earth. And the Arabs will never let Israel live in peace as they view that land as theirs.

“The British, who invented the rule of law, tried to clarify things legally in the Middle East. At the end of World War I, they accepted an outsized leadership role in carving up and codifying the remnants of the Ottoman Empire. Where those states exist today is much the same as Winston Churchill, as Britain’s Colonial Secretary, and his colleagues defined them from 1917 to about 1922 in a series of declarations, agreements, correspondences, and papers. The problem is that they conflict and shift commitments regarding the division and governance of the Middle East. And as Britain exited the empire business totally, some of these same problems occurred as they partitioned India and Pakistan.

“Since that time nothing has worked well. All of the wars in Europe and the Middle East after the Peace of 1919 resulted from the mistakes and arrogance of the victors. World War II, Iraq, Iran, the six-day war, Afghanistan, India versus Pakistan I, II and III, and the War on Terror all spring from that period in time.

“What America is working for now is to bring the peace process along. General Curtis Lemay, former Air Force Chief of Staff, stamped the slogan; Peace is Our Profession, on the Strategic Air Command, the wing of the Air Force at the time that had all of America’s nuclear bombers under its mandate. Teddy Roosevelt said ‘America should walk softly and carry a big stick.’ Both of those concepts are embodied in our efforts in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan. We must be strong but humble among the people we are trying to help. The past hatred must end; war must end.

“We must realize that territorialism is instinctive and one of nature’s first inclinations. We must help the world find solutions peacefully and fairly. That is not what has happened to date.

“Thank you for having me here today. It is great to be back in Greenwich, to be with you once again.”

There was sustained applause, but none more than from Admiral Johnson.

Later after the hand shaking and one-on-one chats, while walking out to the car, Admiral Johnson said: “Tray, that was an excellent talk, well-thought-out and well received. Now this other news you shared with me on the ride from the airport we need to spend more time on.” And the discussion began in the car on the way to their home, not ten minutes from the Club, and continued at home.

“I want you knowing what you are doing. I want it so well-thought-out that you are asking me in advance for what help you’ll need from me,” the Admiral Johnson told his son.

“Thanks, Dad,” Tray Johnson told his father.

“What does your friend Silvana think of coming here so quickly? Has she told her family?”

“No, sir. And she doesn’t think much of it herself.”

“Tray,” the Admiral said, somewhat frustrated, “what are you thinking? And when would you expect her to come here?”

“Soon.”

“Tray. This is, and I don’t want to be judgmental, but it is rash.”

“I agree. I know. It goes against all my development. I know it’s not like me. But I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before,” the younger Johnson said to his father.

“It doesn’t sound like it to me,” his father said.

The circular nature of this discussion lasted almost thirty minutes: question, answer, question, answer. And with each question posed, Tray Johnson was more convinced how right his feelings for Silvana DeLuna were. And with each question answered, Admiral Johnson grew more worried about his son’s decision making in this process.

“Son,” the exasperated Admiral said, “you and I both know this is not like you. It is not well-thought-out. So you still have some more thinking to do. I am here, however you need me, for whatever counsel you want. In the end, Tray, it is your life. Whatever you decide, whether you think I’m on board or not, I will support you and do what you ask me to.”

“Thank you, sir,” the grateful son said.

“One more important thing, Tray. In the Navy men are addicted to two things—their ship and her crew. That’s somewhat true in life.”

“How do you mean, sir?”

“The men I’ve known in and out of the Navy all seem to have two addictions—to a thing and a person. Usually they’re aligned; when they’re not, problems can occur.”

“You’re trying to tell me something, and I’m missing it,” Tray stated.

“I see you so committed to your mission with the Seals it is an addiction. That’s good. Navy men thrive on their mission; it is addictive.”

“And my other addiction?”

“It was your men, is your men. But this new romance, all you are trying to do here in such a short time span, it will be in conflict with your devotion to your men.”

“I’m sorry, sir; I don’t see it that way at all.”

“No, you wouldn’t, Tray. That early step of romance, when infatuation occurs, is blinding.”

“But you were in love once.”

“Yes, I still am, but when I went off to sea, it was done. I knew your mother was here, waiting for me. It was not a distraction.”

“Exactly, and Silvana will be here for me.”

“It is not done. Your heart is not settled.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Tray pleaded.

The Admiral rattled off in quick succession: “Parker Barnes—drugs and Lenny Crane; Winston Trout—solar energy and Emily Albright.”

“No Dad, not even close, something else.”

“Those two examples are in harmony.”

“Alright, I give. How are they in harmony?”

“Take Parker, unfortunately his addiction is to drugs, almost unbreakable. His friendship with Crane supersedes his relationship with the other six of you because of his addiction and which I’m sure Crane assists him in.”

“Well we’ve talked about that before, Lenny probably is a person who supports Parker’s drug habit.”

“And therefore, Parker has his two addictions in harmony.”

The Navy Seal shook his head. There was logic to his father’s thinking, but he felt it was forced.

“And Winston,” the Admiral began.

“Forget Winston, that’s an easy one. I get that.”

“OK, let’s talk about Sebastian or Eddie Wheelwright.”

“Why all my friends?”

“These are examples we can both relate to. I’ve known them as long as you have, if not as well.”

“What’s your theory with Sebastian?”

“The thing is power. The person is you seven brothers. He uses power all the time. He does a good deal of exercising it through the seven of you.”

“He’s being helpful.”

“That’s a way to look at it. But he would be in conflict if you boys rejected his power.”

Tray laughed, “Have you always had these ideas.”

“Frames.”

“Frames?”

“They’re frames to help you see things about people. You can break them down further to view courage or fear. I gave you an approach a while back to think about, that would help you see those characteristics in your men.”

“Yes. But have you always thought of my friends in those terms too?”

“This is how I’ve taught myself in life. It’s a helpful way to see people and what they’re up to, what they’re capable of.”

“And Eddie?”

“Ah. Conflicted.”

“How so?”

“He’s driven. Committed to playing the game and succeeding. He lives it and breathes it. Consistently. And while he was with Valerie McGuire, she fed that. She had the same desires he had.”

Tray looked at his father. “Where are you getting this stuff? You’re scaring me.”

“Now I hear from you and your friends he’s got this new hot number.”

“Santa?”

“That’s what I hear. And I imagine his focus had been quite divided.”

“Why? Santa can’t be his addiction; can’t she get him in harmony?”

“Not that. But Valerie is undone.”

“What. You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do know that. You don’t spend half your life loving someone and just end it over a wild fling.”

“So all these talks we had and all this time.”

“And the time you bring the boys by and you would all catch me up on your adventures, I paid attention. It’s what I do. A sailor is always alert.”

“I see some application.”

“You need to think about it. Being unsettled, unresolved in your two addictions in life is not good. Get in harmony with yourself.”

“I will think about it.”

“The last thing I’ll say on the subject is that this seems more one-sided than it should be.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Dad.”

“I don’t mean me, dummy.”

“You mean Silvana,” Tray replied.

“Yes, it seems your impetuousness will override her judgment of what is best for her and her daughter. It almost sounds as if you are the solution to her problems.”

“Dad, what do you mean?”

“Tray, think about it. She’s a single mother. You say she runs a small laundry by herself. She lives in a small town. Obviously she is not well-to-do.”

“It’s not like that,” a now younger son said to his father.

“Tray, when you’re in love, nothing seems as it is. But trust me. A young woman alone in the world with a child needs the security a man can provide.”

“And I want to. I love her.”

“But you need to find out if she loves you.”

“I know she does. We are of one mind,” a now confident Tray Johnson told his father.

“Infatuation is a beautiful feeling. It will lift you up to heights you could not imagine. But when infatuation ends, there is no safety net to catch you. And it does end. And what was built during the period of infatuation needs to have a strong enough foundation to survive. Many people wake up six months into their lives together, about the time infatuation ends and wonder who it is they are sitting across the table from in the morning.”

“Dad,” the younger Johnson smiled.

“Don’t “Dad” me on this one. I’ve been there a few times more than you. And I got very lucky that the woman I sit across the table from every morning still loves me. Why, I don’t know since I was on a boat away from her in most of our younger years.”

“And this may happen to me also.”

“But, son, we did have more than three days together before we decided to move in together,” a wearying father said to his son. “Alright, you’re tiring an old man out. You’ve gotten my advice. Now it’s up to you to think this through.”

Traynor Johnson rose and saluted his father, as he always did when leaving the Admiral. The Admiral rose, smiled, returned the salute, and hugged the young man he loved.

Chapter 51