at 1000 hours today for you to use a long as you like.”
Bryant thought that seemed a little urgent and asked the captain if he knew what the emails were all about. His mind was busy with the possibilities. Captain Fredericks said he could not elaborate but scheduled them to meet at 1500 that same day.
The communications room was filled with computers and soldiers, Marines, and other personnel filling the chairs lined up along the bank of screens. Bryant checked in with the technician who oversaw assignments to the various computer stations.
“Oh yeah.” The technician nodded when Bryant indicated who he was. “I have a station reserved for you. I just need to let a Marine know his time’s up.”
He moved over to the chairs and tapped a hatless bulked-up Marine on the shoulder. It was not hard to tell that he was unhappy with his disengagement from the lifeline home. Some sharp words were exchanged, but finally the Marine stood and solemnly walked out of the building.
Bryant was informally escorted to the chair, still warm from its previous occupant. He received brief and unnecessary instructions on how to access his emails and then was left alone. He pulled up his email and began to read.
Dear son,
Thanks for the email you sent to me. It’s good to know you are okay. I imagine you would not tell me if you were in danger, but at least I know you are alive. I guess that makes a strange kind of segue (I had to look it up ) to the next topic.
I saw the doctor yesterday, and the news is not good. He told me that my lab results had indicated cancer cells in my bloodstream. He said that would explain my stomach pain and tiredness I have had for the past several weeks. Jesus, I don’t know how this could happen after everything else!
My doctor has informed my brother about what to expect. He said he was considering sending me to Bend or even Portland for more tests and treatment, but he said it was probably too late. After going over what I could expect, I agree. I have seen even more changes in the past few days. It seems so strange, but in a way, it’s a relief knowing what’s going on.
I don’t want to sound too dramatic, but I don’t know if I will be sending any more emails. I will have my brother or his wife email you with more stuff and if there are any more changes. I hate to tell you this through an email. It seems too impersonal. I hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Mom
“Damn!”
What will I do now? I have to get back to see my mom. I can’t believe she might be dying. This feels like too much. Images raced through his mind of the fight, the brig, the mission, and now his mother dying. He felt crazy.
There was another email in his inbox. He hesitantly opened it. It was a communication from his uncle. He knew it was important if Uncle Jeff had taken time to write.
Shawn,
Your mother asked me to fill you in on what’s going on here. I think you got her earlier email and that you know by now that your mother is sick. In fact, the doctor doesn’t expect her to live more than a month. I don’t write much, but I have to let you know some of the things that are important. Your mom has taken the time to write out a will, and she even got a trust. I told her she didn’t need to do that, but she thought she should. I hope you can get here in time to see your mom, but you may not. I guess it’s hard to communicate with active military. Anyway, there are some things that you need to know. The boys and me have pretty much taken over the ranch. Your mom wanted you to know that she is selling the ranch to me. She has health insurance, but she still has considerable medical bills. I offered to help, but she thought she should take a different course. She wanted to create a trust that would make sure you were taken care of financially. She asked me to give you the details. The ranch was appraised at $4.5 million with the BLM lease agreement, house, barn, and equipment. She offered to sell it at below market value as part of my inheritance. I will be paying $4 million. I have already obtained funding for $1 million plus fees, and your mom has agreed to carry the remainder ($3 million) in a loan with a 4 percent interest annually. The loan is for one year, and I will have to come up with the money or refinance for a balloon payment. I will be making monthly payments of approximately $150,000 until I refinance. She asked me to let you know if you come home, you can stay in the house even if your mom is not with us. I don’t even care if you stay there for a long as you want. You can think of it as your place as long as you’re here. Me, Stephen, Sam, and your Aunt Sally will just work the ranch like we’ve been doing for the past year. Sorry to let you know this way, but your mom thought you should know.
Uncle Jeff
Shawn stared at the computer screen. His mind was swirling. What…this can’t be real. He felt so far away from his home. And now it was no longer to be his home. He had spent most of his early life on the ranch, working, hunting, and playing. It was all he really knew, other than Navy life and Afghanistan. The ground no longer seemed solid. He was afraid to stand. He hesitated but decided to refresh his email. A new email from his uncle popped on the screen.
Shawn,
I forgot to mention a couple of things. The most important is that your mother reminded me that your family also owns a cabin in Montana. I’m sure you remember. It’s a great little cabin on the river with ten acres, made of cedar and dating back fifty years, I think. You probably remember that your father and mother used to take you to the cabin a couple times a year. He told me that it was built by your father and grandfather. He loved it. When your dad died and your mom remarried, you didn’t get to go over to the cabin any more. Hank didn’t take much interest in the cabin. So they rented it out for vacationers to Yellowstone. You were about eight years old. I guess you remember some of that. I have only been there one time. I offered to buy it too, but Linda said she wanted to let you have the choice. I took a short trip over there just to check it out, and it’s in pretty good condition. It needs some repairs. Linda asked me to pay someone to take care of the worst problems. She also asked me to check with you to see what you wanted to do with it. I would still buy it if you were interested in selling it. Let me know when you decide.
Uncle Jeff
Grabbing his head with both hands, Shawn put his elbows on the computer desk and just sat quietly with his head bowed. The Marine next to him put his hand on his shoulder and said, “You okay?”
“Yeah, not really,” he replied. “I’ve got to go home.”
The Marine nodded and said, “I get that.”
Even though there were several soldiers, Marines, and others standing and waiting for a computer, no one interrupted Shawn or demanded he relinquish his computer. There seemed to be an understanding, an acceptance of his need to stay seated at the computer even though he was not using it.
Finally, he got up and headed back to his barrack. When he arrived at his barrack, he decided to get a shower and obtain a fresh uniform. It was impossible to sit or relax in any manner. He did some laundry, remade his bunk, repacked his backpack, and even sharpened his knife. His mind was constantly busy with thoughts of having to go back stateside and what he would find there. He was fighting tears. He had not seen his mother in over two years, and the news about her cancer was hard to take. He was totally unable to process the sale of the ranch. He had always assumed the ranch would be waiting when he got back—that it would always be a part of his life.
Shawn had frequently fantasized about owning the ranch and running the cattle up into the hills on BLM land. He also looked forward to planting and managing the hay harvest. With the conflict between him
