The Low Road

"Looks like he got his money's worth."

"Looks like it. I think Tasha, Lin, and Sienna got more than they bargained for though. I don't know how they felt about it at the beginning, but by the end, when he was in the hospital, they were all in. They held his hands, read to him, sang to him, and talked to him right up to the very end. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, one of them was always there. When it got close, they were all there, all the time. Sure as hell wasn't about money by then, he'd never have known if they left." He studied the table for a minute. "I was there. They really loved him."

I looked closer at the pictures and managed to ignore the remarkable amount of bare skin. Lin touching his hand and resting her head against him sitting next to a campfire. Tasha with her forehead pressed to his at a ballgame, both obviously laughing near to tears. Sienna with her arms around him while they floated in the water, both of them half asleep and dreamy. Amber was always there, watching him with concern and care, taking her laughter in his. Holding his hand at every opportunity. Not the slightest fleck of jealousy anywhere.

"Schnell had two albums of the pictures sent to me. Probably two hundred pictures or maybe more. I've got one of the albums at Headquarters. Not sure what the hell to do with it."

"What happened to the other one?"

"He said to do whatever I wanted with it. I gave it to his ex-wife. She finally stopped arguing about the insurance after I gave it to her. A lot of the pictures are more...graphic than the ones I have on my phone. Made it pretty clear that they'd done their damn level best to make him forget she even existed."

"Helluva way to go."

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" He looked up at the night sky. "I don't think it was ever about the money though. It wasn't for Amber anyway."

"Really?"

"I was worried when Schnell told me about the deal. I knew I had a vulture on my hands and I wasn't going to let that happen, so I looked into it a bit. Found something a little odd and just decided to let it go. I was right. I just got this a few weeks ago. She must have been just about three months along at the funeral."

He pulled a picture up on his phone. The picture was of Amber, much less formal in jeans and a t-shirt, smiling and holding a baby, sitting next to a picture of Schnell in his full dress uniform. The baby's resemblance to Schnell was unmistakable.

I blinked. "What the hell?"

"Schnell never really looked into things or connected the dots. He was too distracted to really pay attention to anything beyond the fact that she really seemed to be the only one who cared at first. Then they kept him distracted. I guess I can understand that. Diaz admitted that Amber paid him to make sure Schnell ended up in her club in Atlanta that first time. I never said anything and I'm pretty sure Schnell never caught on. She didn't want him to know."

"Know what?"

He pointed to the shelf behind her in the picture, where another framed photograph of another Soldier sat.

"She used to have a twin brother. Her last name was Campbell."

Post Production Notes:

We all have to walk the Low Road eventually; it is inevitable. Perhaps, though, we may not have to walk it completely alone.

Through Amber and her choices, Peter Schnell lives on. Antigone would recognize the obligation that Amber felt, both for her brother, and for Sergeant Schnell.

This was a short one -- we're hoping to see all the craziness of the last year or so slow down, but we still have a bit to go. Some of the issues are boring, some are as dramatic as anything you'd see in fiction. We have several more tales in the chute. (Hah! One of my first stories has "coal shoot" in it vice "coal chute" -- see, I really can learn!) We will get them done. One way or another.

Special thanks to my friend, we'd been sharing tales of the oddest funerals we had been involved in when he told me the tale on which this story is based. He even had proof of at least some of his story.

Very Special Thanks to the Missus, who has a special knack for developing characters and for hearing the real voice of the story. Without her, I wouldn't even have started writing; with her, the stories are far better than I could write on my own.

I talk with a lot of other writers and I get amazing advice and suggestions; they're mostly far more experienced than I and they've been incredibly selfless. You know who you are, so thanks a hundred times over.

And I still shake my head in wonder when I see the kind of encouragement and support I get from the readers here. I couldn't have asked for a better place to learn to do this or a better group of people to learn from. Thank you.