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Authors: Sharon Hamilton
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was some beautiful farmland here, and Cooper had to agree. Not like the wheat and vegetable farm his parents owned back in Nebraska, but it did make him pine for home, just a bit. Being stationed in San Diego had its perks, but even though he slept in his motor home with the ocean as his backyard, there still wasn’t enough space around him. Green space, that is.
“How long we gotta smell this crap?” Fredo said as he adjusted his rear view mirror.
“It could be worse. If we went the other way, we’d be smelling garlic.”
“And I’d say that would be a huge improvement. God never intended man to eat green things.”
They followed the instructions Cooper had written down, snaking through modest neighborhoods in San Jose. At last they found the one story light blue and crème house with a bicycle upended on the front lawn, and stopped.
The two SEALs arrived at the front door and heard a TV blaring inside, and a woman shouting commands to a couple of kids who were running on what sounded like bare hardwood floors. When Coop rang the doorbell, the footsteps came straight their way and stopped at the front door, which opened. A little girl of about four greeted them. Her sweet round face with bright pink cheeks stared up at them.
“Hello, Gentlemen.” she said, with difficulty at the size of the word rolling around in her mouth. “May I help you?” The authority in her voice impressed even Cooper. He kneeled down and spoke to her eyeball to eyeball.
“I’m here to see your daddy, I think. That is, if his name is Irving.”
She giggled. “He doesn’t like to be called that. My mommy does that when she’s mad.” She scratched the back of her head with her right hand, her other hand scrunched up her Halloween costume princess gown. She was about to reveal another family secret but her father interrupted her.
“Okay okay,” a booming voice came from behind her, down the hallway. The man had loose curly dark hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes were protected by thick dark framed glasses, and, just like in a movie, the nose bridge was repaired with a piece of silver duct tape. “Missy, you and Peter go see your mommy in the kitchen. I’ve got some business to discuss with these gentlemen.”
The little one did as she was instructed. Irving stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He let out a sigh. He pulled his fingers through his unruly hair, which returned right back to the same place it had been. Irv’s eyes were dark brown, appearing below bushy black eyebrows.
Coop noticed the sounds of a nearby freeway, which was better than the jarring racquet coming from the TV inside.
“Irv Palmer.” He extended his hand to Cooper. “You must be the guys from San Diego?” Irv squinted as he leaned back to take in all of Cooper’s six foot seven frame like he was looking at a skyscraper.
“Yessir. I’m Cooper and this is Fredo.” They shook hands. Cooper noticed his palms were sweaty, and smooth, like a woman’s. His white skin was pasty, further indication this man spent almost no time outside.
“Well,” Irv said as he rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go look at your drone, shall we?”
He led them across the driveway and through a garden gate to the side yard. Instead of opening the garage door, he walked them through a single door he unlocked with a key he’d retrieved from the pen protector in his shirt pocket.
Inside, the walls bore shelves, packed to the ceiling with boxes and parts. There was a replica of one of the space shuttles hanging from the ceiling, its NASA logo still proudly displayed. Fredo whistled. Cooper was speechless.
“Gentlemen,” Irv said as he pushed his glasses back onto his nose, “welcome to my man cave.” Irv cracked back his fingers. Fredo winced. He looked genuinely proud of the place, which had the pungent smell of electrical tape and lubricating oil.
A long workbench went the length of the garage’s south wall, with natural
“How long we gotta smell this crap?” Fredo said as he adjusted his rear view mirror.
“It could be worse. If we went the other way, we’d be smelling garlic.”
“And I’d say that would be a huge improvement. God never intended man to eat green things.”
They followed the instructions Cooper had written down, snaking through modest neighborhoods in San Jose. At last they found the one story light blue and crème house with a bicycle upended on the front lawn, and stopped.
The two SEALs arrived at the front door and heard a TV blaring inside, and a woman shouting commands to a couple of kids who were running on what sounded like bare hardwood floors. When Coop rang the doorbell, the footsteps came straight their way and stopped at the front door, which opened. A little girl of about four greeted them. Her sweet round face with bright pink cheeks stared up at them.
“Hello, Gentlemen.” she said, with difficulty at the size of the word rolling around in her mouth. “May I help you?” The authority in her voice impressed even Cooper. He kneeled down and spoke to her eyeball to eyeball.
“I’m here to see your daddy, I think. That is, if his name is Irving.”
She giggled. “He doesn’t like to be called that. My mommy does that when she’s mad.” She scratched the back of her head with her right hand, her other hand scrunched up her Halloween costume princess gown. She was about to reveal another family secret but her father interrupted her.
“Okay okay,” a booming voice came from behind her, down the hallway. The man had loose curly dark hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes were protected by thick dark framed glasses, and, just like in a movie, the nose bridge was repaired with a piece of silver duct tape. “Missy, you and Peter go see your mommy in the kitchen. I’ve got some business to discuss with these gentlemen.”
The little one did as she was instructed. Irving stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He let out a sigh. He pulled his fingers through his unruly hair, which returned right back to the same place it had been. Irv’s eyes were dark brown, appearing below bushy black eyebrows.
Coop noticed the sounds of a nearby freeway, which was better than the jarring racquet coming from the TV inside.
“Irv Palmer.” He extended his hand to Cooper. “You must be the guys from San Diego?” Irv squinted as he leaned back to take in all of Cooper’s six foot seven frame like he was looking at a skyscraper.
“Yessir. I’m Cooper and this is Fredo.” They shook hands. Cooper noticed his palms were sweaty, and smooth, like a woman’s. His white skin was pasty, further indication this man spent almost no time outside.
“Well,” Irv said as he rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go look at your drone, shall we?”
He led them across the driveway and through a garden gate to the side yard. Instead of opening the garage door, he walked them through a single door he unlocked with a key he’d retrieved from the pen protector in his shirt pocket.
Inside, the walls bore shelves, packed to the ceiling with boxes and parts. There was a replica of one of the space shuttles hanging from the ceiling, its NASA logo still proudly displayed. Fredo whistled. Cooper was speechless.
“Gentlemen,” Irv said as he pushed his glasses back onto his nose, “welcome to my man cave.” Irv cracked back his fingers. Fredo winced. He looked genuinely proud of the place, which had the pungent smell of electrical tape and lubricating oil.
A long workbench went the length of the garage’s south wall, with natural
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