ASYLUM: Epilog

 

Epilog

   General Debra Monroe-Menendez smoothed the last page and then closed the binder. Daniel’s journal would be a good addition to the Cadet Library. She had been reluctant at first to allow it to be added to the listings, but yes, a good addition. Rising from her desk, she leaned on her cane until she reached the large bay windows that overlooked the Parade Ground. The huge manicured lawn was bigger than two football fields and directly across the parade aground was the Menendez Tomb, Daniel’s final resting place. There was a formation of Cadets standing at attention for reveille and the American flag was being raised, she drew herself to attention and raised her hand in salute as she remembered her and Daniel doing the same thing, fifty years earlier. The flag reached its apex and the Cadets shifted to parade rest as they listened to one of their instructors. Behind her, she heard the door to her office open.

   Carrie Michaels walked in with a tray and sat it down on Debra’s desk, “Cornflakes, just like you asked for and some of that god awful Krank. Why anyone would even want to drink that crap is beyond me and to think you send all the way to Kansas for it.” She shook her head and her once red, but now white ponytail, flopped back and forth from one shoulder to the next. She was still a tiny little thing, but she carried her sixty plus years with authority.

   “Still leaving for Holloman this morning?”

   “Yep, I’ll be there until my grand-daughter, Tabitha, gives birth and then head back this way as soon as I can.”

   “Take some time, Carrie, you’ve earned it,” Debra replied.

   Carrie kissed Debra’s cheek and quickly left as Debra returned her eyes to the Tomb.

   “Commandant Monroe?”

   Debra smiled and said, “Becky? You know how I feel about that.”

   The young woman smiled in return and said, “I know Grammy, but we’re both in uniform and Grandma Danni bit my butt the last time I called her Grandma when we were both dressed to kill.”

   “Has she arrived?”

   “Yes, she has, and boy is she full of piss-n-vinegar.”

   Debra chuckled, “Danni is always full of piss-n-vinegar.”

   Colonel Danni Monroe walked past Becky, her grand-daughter, and said, “I heard that, you old bitch.”

   Debra’s smile widened and she held her arms open as Danni stepped into her embrace, “I’ve missed you, how was Seattle?”

   “Wet, does the sun ever shine there?”

   Debra laughed, “How is the new rain gear doing?”

   “Most of the Rangers prefer the old ponchos, they say the new stuff holds water vapor and you may as well not wear anything once you’ve sweated in it all day.”

   “Same thing we said during the trials; remember when Daniel said those who don’t study the past are doomed to repeat it?”

   “Of course, and he was right.” Danni walked to the bay window and stared across to the tomb, “Oh! They finished the marble facing!”

    Debra stepped beside her and looked, “Last week, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

   Danni shrugged and said, “Daniel wouldn’t have liked it, he would have preferred the original concrete.”

   “Yes, he would have, but he would have also recognized the importance of it being grand instead of utilitarian.”

   Danni looked at Debra’s desk and asked, “His journal?”

   “Yes, the head librarian wants several copies for the Autobiography section and I was wondering if I should allow it. There’s a lot of personal, private talk in there.”

   “And?”

   “I was talking to some of the new Cadets, the ones from Seattle.”

   “The orphans we sent back here?”

   “Yes, I was telling them about Daniel, what he means for us, why he was important. One, in particular, made the comment that no one could live up to his legacy and I explained how he had been an orphan also, just like they were. I told them about his humility, how he always thought he wasn’t enough and yet he was everything.” She sighed, “They need to know we all come from humble beginnings, we all have things about us that maybe we aren’t proud of, but those things help create who we are.” She nodded and finally said, “I’m going to allow ten copies, but it needs an epilog; it ends abruptly.”

   “We all end abruptly,” Danni said. “And we have lost another grandchild and a great-grandchild.”

   “Combat?”

   “Childbirth. Mary Elizabeth. She was in labor for thirty-six hours, then, massive hemorrhage. The baby had the umbilical cord around his neck.”

   “It was better for us, sometimes I wonder why the girls today…”

   “Because they want the same things we wanted.” Danni sighed and added, “Are you going to write the epilog?”

   “No, I don’t think I can. It would be too…no. You?”

   “I’m willing to try, but what would I say?”

   “Just tell the truth, how he waited until we were all there in the clinic and just went to sleep.”

   “I should lie, you know? Something about insurmountable odds, heroic bravery while killing scores of the enemies of the Republic. A legendary death for a legendary man. People would believe that, but not dying in his bed from pneumonia.”

   “Did he ever tell you how he envisioned his death?”

   “Yes, and he got what he wanted, you, me, and the children gathered around him.”

   “He wanted a family so bad. Do you ever wonder what he would think of what we created, our extended family?”

   “God, are you kidding? He would have been so proud; all the kids running everywhere.”

   “Do you remember his last words?” Debra asked.

   Danni closed her eyes and said, “I am loved, by those I love, I finally feel special.”

                                                                   The End