Chapter 19

Saturday is Cowboy's gymnastics class. When the lesson let out, Tank and Cowboy climbed into the truck. "You hungry, son?"

"I'm starved," Cowboy said as he gulped down water.

"What would you like for lunch?"

"PIZZA and salad!"

"Well, we are close to the second-best pizza in town, Pino's."

"Where's the first best place?" the boy asked.

"Shorty's, but it is in a part of town I'm comfortable bringing you without more guys with us."

"Is it bad?" Cowboy asked with large eyes.

"It can be. Someday we'll get a group together. In the meantime, it's Pino's pizza. I'll call ahead. What do you want on your pizza?"

Cowboy thought, and with a sly smile, said, "Broccoli!"

Tank raised one eyebrow, "I like broccoli, but I will not eat it on a pizza. Try again."

Cowboy giggled. "Spinach and feta?"

"You are in luck. Mr. Pino is Greek and has a Greek pizza on the menu. I don't know if it has spinach, but it does have feta. We can get a side salad as well."

"Yeah! I love feta."

"You are one weird kid. You know that?"

"Next time, Dad, maybe we could have sushi pizza."

Tank scrunched up his face. Usually, he kept his facial expression neutral, he found he connected better with his son if he relearned how to express himself visually. "Now that is disgusting."

Cowboy giggled. "Or maybe ice cream pizza."

"Talk to your mother. I'm sure she will figure out a way."

The boy sat back pondering, "Rice Krispy-marshmallow crust, ice cream with fruit and butterscotch syrup."

"You've been thinking about this for a while?" Tank asked.

"I may have dreamed it or saw a TV chef make it."

Tank and Cowboy walked into Pino's to the pickup window. Mr. Pino himself was here to greet them. "I don't get a chance to make Greek pizza very often."

Tank pointed to his son, "Mr. Pino, it was his idea."

"You like Greek food?"

"Latrévo to ellinikó fagitó!," Cowboy smiled. (I love Greek foods)

Tank looked down, "Where did you learn to speak Greek?"

"I only know a few things, mostly foods on the menus and OPA!"

Tank chuckled and turned to Pino, "If you could serve the pizza flaming like saganaki, he'd be thrilled."

Pino laughed, "Give me a day or two notice to order the cheese and work on the recipe. Your order will be up in a few more minutes."

Turning to Cowboy, "I've got to hit the head, son. What about you?"

While the two went into the men's room, Stephanie and Lula walked into Pinos and took a booth on the side. A few minutes later, Tank and Cowboy emerged and went to the pickup window. Being trained to be aware of his surroundings, he saw the women but chose not to acknowledge them. Stephanie and Lula saw them.

"Who's the kid with Tank?" Lula asked.

"I don't know. Maybe the kid is part of a Big Brother program. You know all Rangeman are required to do community service."

After Tank and Cowboy left, the waitress came to the women to take their order. "Della, you know who the kid was with Tank?" Stephanie asked.

"I think I heard Tank call him son, but I didn't think he's married."

"He ain't," Lula sneered while shaking her head.

Della blanched at Lula's acerbic reaction. She needed to defuse the situation. "Well, maybe I got it wrong. Maybe it was a general term for the kid."

Stephanie brushed it off, but Lula brooded. "He said he ain't got no living family either. Yo sure you ain't seen no kid at Rangeman?"

"Nope, other than Lester." She made a mental note to ask Ranger when she saw him next.

The idea so encompassed Lula, for the next week, she asked whatever Rangeman came to pick up the files at Vinnie's if Tank had a son. Remembering Tank's instructions, they said no. Not satisfied, Lula went to Tank's old house to do surveillance. The two-story duplex typical in this part of Trenton appeared occupied. The shades on the front were halfway up. There was no newspaper by the front door. A car she didn't recognize drove up. A shorter man got out. He was a Latino. Did Tank move? Knocking on the house next door, Lula asked if Tank had moved.

The middle-aged woman answered. "Yes, last Spring. He wanted to purchase a home, not rent."

"Do you know where he went?"

"No."

That night Lula mumbled to her friend, Jackie, about Tank moving and not telling her. "Nobody knows where he's gon', or they ain't telling me. Maybe he's got himself a new girlfriend, and she got a kid."

Two days later, Jackie called Lula, "I saw yo' man. I'ze on a job out west and sees him get into one of dos black vehicles, so I followed. He lost him in Ewing, but I can tell where I seen him."

Lula set out to find Tank. Her Firebird was a bit too flashy to follow him, so she began borrowing cars. It was pure luck Tank was driving down River Road when Lula spotted him. Swinging around, she followed them towards the country club but going beyond and pulling through large security gates. Is this where he now lived? As she watched from across the street, Tank wrapped one arm around a woman, kissed her on the forehead. The boy was the one from Pinos. All three walked into the sizeable one-story house.

Looking at the house size, the acreage, Lula became enranged. Tank had a new woman! That should be her house and her kid! Returning to her apartment on Comstock, near Stark Street, she was furious. Calling Jackie, Lula told her all about her discoveries. "He dun got a girlfriend with a boy, and they live in a big house behind walls."

"So he do have money, huh? You weren' sure 'cause he don't drive a fancy car."

Lula was furious. "That should be my house! I needs that money to help with my court fines."

-0-

"Mama, you coming home for Thanksgiving," Cowboy asked his mother on her nightly call home.

"Of course I am. I'll be home tomorrow night. This was a brief trip. No way I'm missing Thanksgiving dinner with my two favorite men."

"Are we going to have a real turkey?" the boy asked.

"Real Turkey? No, I think we'll have a plastic one. That way, we can serve it every year."

The boy was exasperated. "You don't eat plastic turkeys! I mean our turkey to cook, not dinner at the NCO club. Dad said he would cook one on the barbeque if you could do the sides, whatever that means."

"The sides are the extras like dressing, potatoes, vegetables and…

"Brussel Sprouts! They always have soggy green beans in that slimy sauce."

Rain laughed. "For some people, that's the best part of the meal."

"Ick. I like green beans crunchy and cold."

"Tell your father I am willing to cook whatever I have time for, but he has to do the shopping."

"Dad said I could invite three friends for Thanksgiving."

"Your friends will be eating with their families," the mother counseled.

"Rangeman friends. I was thinking Dr. Bobby, Hector, and Bink."

"What about Abuela Ella and Abuelo Luis?" Rain inquired.

"They are going to Newark. Abuela Ella has family there."

"If those men have the day off and they haven't promised to go someplace else first, they may come. Talk with your father before you ask the three men."

"Ma'am," Bink, one of the younger Rangeman men began.

"It's Rain, please. Ma'am make me feel like you will salute."

"Thank you ma'..ah, Rain, isn't pumpkin pie, is it?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I'm from Tennessee. I think that was sweet potato."

Rain smiled, "Correct."

"But there's something different about it," the dimpled Rangeman asked in his southern drawl.

Rain was impressed. Most people couldn't tell pumpkin from sweet potato pie, let alone discern differences in the seasonings. "First, I use brown sugar, not white plus a tablespoon of molasses. Then I impart my special kiss, rum."

"That's it!" Bink said with a big grin. "My grandma used molasses and whiskey."

"I sincerely hope she wouldn't use Kentucky bourbon as you are from Tennessee," Rain chuckled.

"No ma'am, she used only Tennessee whiskey, especially on her Christmas fruitcake. She called it baptizing it in goodness."

Bobby joined the conversation, "What else did she add whiskey? I need some new recipes."

"There wasn't much Grandma didn't add her elixir. Baked goods like sweet rolls, cakes, scones, cookies, even caramel corn, and of course BBQ sauce," Bink answered.

Rain chuckled, "Did she save some for sipping?"

Bink laughed, "Sure 'nough. She said it helped with her rheumatism. When anybody got sick, they got whiskey toddies unless they had intestinal distress."

After dinner, the guests did the dishes while Tank carved up another whole turkey. He included a big jar of mayonnaise, several bread loaves, lettuce, and tomatoes, sending the men back to Rangeman with sandwich makings and three extra pies for the holiday workers.

Cowboy watched but held his tongue. When everyone had left, he hesitantly asked, "Are there leftovers for us?"

His mother threw her arm around the boy's shoulder, "We will be eating left-overs tomorrow and the next. I'll make turkey noodle soup for Sunday."

"Can I have a sandwich now?"

"Cowboy, you just ate."

"I'm hungry. I'm a growing boy."

Tank looked at Rain, "I think a growth spurt is coming."

Rain shook her head, "Maybe I could rent his clothes. He grows through them so quickly."

-0-

"When is Mama coming home?" the young boy asked his father.

"She'll be home at the end of next week, the same day or night you get out of school for the Christmas holiday." Tank suspected she'd be coming in on a late flight if she made flights from Albuquerque. It was right before Christmas, and the airlines often overbooked. She promised to call and let them know when she boarded the flight to Newark.

Cowboy looks pensive. "If she gets a job in New Mexico, we will have to move again. Would you come with us?"

The question tore Tank. He knew the boy was worried about separating from him and was too. He and the boy were learning about each other, growing closer. He did not want to separate from him. His fears from last Spring they would live apart were coming true. "No, my work is here at Rangeman."

"Can't Mama work at Rangeman?"

"We don't do the type of work she does. She is an intelligent woman who deserves to do what she loves."

"Doesn't she love you?"

"That's different. That's personal love, not work love. I don't know if she loves me."

"Do you love her?" he asked innocently and maybe a bit hopefully.

Did Tank love Rain? He knew he did but was it the type of love that built families? He could see himself married to Rain, but only if she could find happiness in Trenton. That he seriously doubted. He could not answer his son. Instead, he pulled into their home parking garage. "Let's go hunt up some grub. It is dinner time."

Early December, Rain was excited to be going to New Mexico for a job interview, actually multiple interviews. In addition to The Air Force Research Center at Sandia Base, Northrup Gruman and a supporting civilian company, ASP. Yes, she had discounted New Mexico because of the schools, but with Tank stepping up to foot private education for Cowboy, the prospect became viable.

She was busy consulting with both the Air Force, and a private company, ASP, on an experimental module she had proposed several years prior as part of her first master's thesis. Imagine her surprise when ASP contacted her to come and discuss the feasibility and outline a preliminary program. It was the most promising job interview to date.

"How long will you be gone?" Tank asked.

"Two weeks. ASP closes between Christmas and New Years'. It saves everyone asking for leave at the same time. I may have to go back after the first of the year."

Tank was nervous. Rain might get a job offer.

In a technology-rich SE Albuquerque area, the Air Force had their research labs on Kirtland AFB in conjunction with Sandia National Laboratories. Civilian support companies such as ASP and Northrup Gruman were only a few miles away. Rain would not be racking up miles on her rental car for this visit.

Her reception was warm. This was the first time companies were interested in her. For the last three days of her interview, she was invited two hundred miles southeast to Holloman Air Force Base, where testing facilities on systems she had helped design for the Army and being shared with the Air Force. She was excited to see her work advance, but an upset stomach dampened her enthusiasm. Except she suspected it wasn't an upset stomach. Remembering her night with Tank, she consulted information on the Depo shot and saw it could take months to regulate back to proper ovulation cycle. She had briefly considered the Morning After pill but was called out of town and forget about the pill. While she could justify pregnancy prevention, her morals didn't fit with post-conception birth control.

Her fellow engineers kidded her about not tolerating the hot chile on so much of the food, assuming that was the reason for her nausea. The foray into hot chile sauce, salsas, and refried beans was a challenge for one used to fruits and vegetables. The ride back on the van wasn't helping her nausea. When the group stopped at a well-known roadside café for Green Chile Breakfast Burritos, complete with sausage and fries or papas, she could not walk into the building for the smell of the meat and grease. "I'll stay outside, upwind," she told the others.

Rain found a secluded area to vomit and was now sporting a grey pallor over her rich brown face. As they loaded back into the van to continue their way back to Albuquerque, one engineer compassionately said, "You can sit by the door. Holler, if we have to stop. There are no restrooms for the next 50 miles."

Everyone was loaded into the van to resume their journey. Ten miles down the two-lane road, a large tractor-trailer load of metal pile passed the other way. The chain holding the pipe snapped. Suddenly six-inch metal pipe fell from the trailer as the van passed, going in the opposite direction. The timing was perfect. Instead of smashing into the side of the van, two pipes crashed through the van's windshield. Instantly, the driver and two passengers were decapitated. A fourth had his arm torn from his body by the missile-like pipes. The van continued out of control, running off the road rolling multiple times before falling into an arroyo.

Cars coming upon the pipes were swerving, often crashing until the isolated two-lane state road had six-car accident closing the road. In such a remote area, help was slow to arrive. The nearest sizeable town sent rescue vehicles, but it was 30 miles away. By the time people were cut from the wreckage, the Med-Evac helicopter from Albuquerque was on the ground waiting to receive the most severely injured, of which Rain was one.

At 1330, a call came to Tank. The Trenton Core team was in the conference room when Hal knocked on the door, "Excuse me for interrupting, but there's an emergency call for Tank from Albuquerque."

The hospital in Albuquerque was calling to report Rain was critically injured. Ranger watched his second in command slam down his granite face. After answering questions, he said, "Yes, that's correct. He's right here." Tank handed the phone to Bobby, who identified himself. Tank sat like a stone. The conversation continued but concluded with, "We are on our way. Our cell numbers are…"

When Bobby ended the call, he looked at Tank who sat like solid black granite. Bobby addressed those in the room, "Rain was in an auto accident south of Albuquerque. She was airlifted to their Level 1 trauma center in Albuquerque. Critical. She was rushed into surgery."

Ranger picked up his phone, mumbled a few words before hanging up. "You and Bobby fly to Albuquerque. Take the Rangeman jet."

"What about Cowboy?" Bobby asked. Tank was still distracted by the news.

"He is family. We will take care of him," Ranger answered.

Bobby tapped Tank, "Go get your to-go bag. I'll meet you in the garage." Tank nodded and walked out. Bobby stayed. Looking at Ranger he said, "It's bad. Real bad. She may not make it through surgery."

Ranger paused for a moment. His friend was finally finding his heart with a son and perhaps a woman. Now, this has occurred. "That's why I'm sending you. Take care of both of them."

Lester sat quietly, listening. When it was only him and Ranger, he spoke, "Tank has always been a rock. I've never seen him freeze like that."

The need for a to-go bag always on the ready wasn't critical now that Bobby was no longer at the government's beck and call. But years of training had Bobby's clothes and personal items already folding and compartmentalized for rapid deployment. His bag was in his third-floor office. He knew Tank's was on the fifth floor, close at hand.

Luis, Ella's husband, was waiting next to Tank's vehicle when the big man approached. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Tank's mind was further ahead. He glanced down at his to-go bag, knowing it held everything he needed. What could he have forgotten?

"Your son. He should be going with you, or his father, should talk to him."

"I'll call when I get there," the big man replied.

"No, you talk to him before you go. He'll be here from school shortly. He might lose his mother. When he needs his only family member, his father, you can not go missing."

It was another of those parental rules Tank had not yet considered. "What can I tell him. I barely know anything?"

"You assure him you are his father and will stand with him, help him, be with him. You can't do anything to help the situation in New Mexico, but you can help your son here and now. The time you give him in the next few hours is critical."

Tank threw his head back and if looking to Heaven for inspiration. He thought of how he learned his father was killed in the mill explosion. Strangers didn't tell him. It was his mother. The shock and pain surfaced all these years later. It was Christmas, just as now. How could God take him during a celebration time? They had been playing football in the backyard only a few hours before. The house still smelled of his father's aftershave. His slippers were still beside the back door. No, rushing to New Mexico will only be to wait, perhaps hours.

Should he take Cowboy? How would he react to seeing his mother in intensive care? Or worse if she doesn't make it? One way or the other, he had to know and, if necessary, say goodbye to her. Tank knew he had to take the boy.

"I think he should go with me. Do you think Ella could come?"

By this time Bobby had come into the garage. "You thinking about taking Cowboy with us?"

Luis spoke, "I'll call her."

Ella walked into the garage a few minutes later. "You are taking Pierre?"

Tank let out a sigh, "Yeah. He needs to see her or have closure."

"I agree, but you two will be distracted. He needs someone with him."

"That's why I'm asking if you would consider coming along?"

Ranger stood off to the side, listening. "What you are doing now is more important than Rangeman. Bobby will be with you to answer medical questions and for support. Ella will be there for your son." Turning to Ella, Ranger asked, "Is there someone who could fill in for you here?"

Ella grabbed her phone as she ran back into the building. Luis watched and said, "She's calling her nieces." Since Ella was Ranger's aunt, he knew Ella had more than enough family to fill in. Turning back to Tank, Luis said, "Go home and pack your son's needs. I'll drive Ella and Bobby to the plane."

Instead of being brought to Rangeman after school, Cowboy went to his home. Bink answered the boy's question before he asked, "Your father is at home already."

Tank was packing a bag for Cowboy when the boy walked in. "What are you doing, Dad?"

Tank sat on the bed and pulled his son close, "Your mama was in a serious traffic accident in New Mexico."

The boy's eyes got wide. "Is she alright?"

"No, son. She is seriously hurt. You and I, along with Dr. Bobby and Ella, are flying out there this afternoon."

The boy grabbed his father, clinging tightly. Trying to hold back his fear and tears, he was failing. Tank's stomach clenched. It was how he held onto his mother those many years ago in Louisiana. He was on one side, his sister on the other, their mother wrapping her arms around her children.

"It's almost Christmas, " the boy began. Tank felt his heart broke. He knew the pain of losing someone in his family during this season. He did not want that for Cowboy. He had no words on consolation for his son. "I know, son, I know."