Face watched the proceedings from the path. BA stood among the other mourners, blended in well. He could have been any other relative or family member for all any random observer might notice. Most of the people gathered were African-American. It was difficult for BA to not stick out anywhere, given his size and his penchant for gold, and now his new unique hairstyle. Only a handful of times, aside from dress blues, had Face seen BA wear anything that didn't simultaneously draw attention while also acting as a subconscious buffer between himself and those around him.
While BA usually wore his individuality proudly, there was a time and a place for shock value and this was neither.
His layers of gold had been removed to leave room for the tie around his neck. Only one tasteful chain with a pendant adorned him. Face couldn't see it too clearly from where he leaned against the hood of his car but he thought it might have been the St. Michael he'd given BA a few years ago in Vietnam. Patron Saint Michael the Archangel, protector of soldiers.
Face was touched that a personal gift from him was the one BA had chosen on such a solemn occasion. He hoped it brought him comfort.
It had been a bitch to find overseas during wartime, too. Harder than it should have been under the circumstances. He was glad it was being put to use.
The service eventually concluded and the mourners began to disperse. BA hugged the woman that had been at the forefront of those gathered. The boy's mother, clearly. Face watched as BA tucked a piece of paper into the woman's hand. She tried to refuse, to give it back, but BA gently insisted. Her fist closed around it and new tears erupted. There was another hug before they parted ways.
Face waited, not bothering to be unobtrusive. He wasn't hiding.
He had watched from enough distance to be respectful of the service while still remaining plainly visible to BA. It would not have been right of him to watch from a close distance, intruding, and he would never insert himself into the midst of the grieving without a right to be there.
BA passed up his own van and followed the path several yards beyond it to stop before Face.
"What're you doin' here, Faceman." It wasn't a question. It was a demand for an answer.
"I'm sorry about the kid, BA," Face said sincerely.
"Lenny." BA's eyes wandered for a moment until they landed on the boy's mother as she got into the back of a limo, then swung back to Face. "His name was Lenny."
Face gave a nod of apology. "Why didn't you tell us, BA?" If there were a little hurt lacing Face's words, neither man would acknowledge it.
BA's brow wrinkled. Unwilling or unable to give voice to what was going on in his head, the sergeant seemed to grasp for an explanation. It bothered Face. The four of them were so entwined within each others' lives that personal privacy wasn't always a luxury to be had. The little they were able to hold onto they sometimes hoarded with jealousy. Some things, however, weren't meant to tuck away and crouch over and hide from those who cared about you. BA, while not a man who had ever flaunted his private affairs in any sense, had never been one to hide away from his friends, metaphorically speaking.
"You have your ready bag in the van?" Face asked with a nod to BA's beloved GMC.
BA blinked as if taken aback by the sudden topic change. "Yeah," he finally answered.
"We've got a job out of town. We're rolling out in a couple of hours but we have time for some coffee and pie at Martin's Diner."
BA shook his head. "I think I'll just go home 'till it's time to head out."
Face studied him for a moment. "I think we both need pie." Then he got into his car, turned around, and drove the path slowly toward the cemetery gates as BA stood watching and got smaller in the rear view mirror.
BA might come or he might not but if he did Face would be there waiting for him.
BA couldn't say why he'd decided to join face at the diner. He hadn't meant to. He'd planned to head home and sit quietly in the last couple of hours of solitude and privacy he'd get for a few days. He was halfway to his neighborhood when, without any forethought at all and so unexpectedly that he surprised even himself, BA turned his van around.
He pulled into Martin's Diner parking lot less than ten minutes later. Faceman was already there. Face's hands cupped a steaming mug of coffee and a piece of pie sat next to it, untouched. Across from him was a glass of milk and another piece of pie. Rhubarb, if BA had to guess. It was his favorite.
He slid into the booth across from Face and was satisfied to see that Face had, indeed, ordered him rhubarb pie. "Thanks, man," BA said just before gulping half the glass of milk. It was still cold.
"Told you we need pie," Face answered as he picked up his fork and took a bite from his generous slice. It was apple. Face always had loved apple pie.
BA set his milk glass down. "Hannibal got you snoopin' on me?" He didn't bother with niceties.
Face shook his head as he took a moment to swallow his dessert before answering. "No. But he did ask me to help keep an eye on you in case you need us. The snooping is a perk," he tried to joke. It fell flat in the face of BA's scowl.
"Well stop it," BA warned.
"Calm down, BA," Face soothed his friend. "I'm not getting into anything personal. I was just curious where you were going, dressed up like this." Face waved a gesture at BA's attire. "You know I'm curious by nature. It would be cruel and inhumane to expect me not to want to find out."
"Well, now you know. And it better be all you go lookin' to find out. Ain't nothing' happenin' that's any of yall's business."
"You're our business."
"Well go find other business," BA suggested harshly as he took a large bite of his pie. There was a reason Martin's Diner was one of their favorite spots.
"Just out of curiosity," Face continued fearlessly, "Does this kid's death have anything to do with you going to jail a couple of nights ago?
For being, generally, the least reckless of his teammates, Face sure knew how to poke the bear, BA mused.
"His name is Lenny," BA reminded Face coldly. "And it ain't none of your business."
Too close. This was getting too close to things BA didn't want his friends knowing about or involved in. Maybe pie wasn't such a good idea.
"Okay." BA narrowed his eyes. The lieutenant had given up far too easily. "Regardless, it was nice of you to pay for Lenny's funeral."
Of course, least reckless was relative.
"You said you ain't snoopin'," BA accused.
"I don't have to snoop to see the obvious, BA. I know you know Lenny from the youth center, which is for low-income and at-risk kids. This means his family - just his mom as far as I can tell- doesn't have much in the way of money. Even for a cheap funeral. This one wasn't cheap and I can't imagine this woman, as much as she loved her son, having the money to pay for a limo to and from. Or those large flower arrangements. Certainly not that casket. It was top of the line."
BA glared but refused to defend himself. He hadn't done anything wrong.
"I saw you give her a check, too."
"So?" BA asked defensively.
"So, nothing." Face shrugged. "I think you did a good thing. I'm just worried about where it's coming from."
"It's coming from wanting to help the family of a kid I cared about, man." BA was angry now. He wasn't sure where Face was going with this but it felt like he was trying to minimize BA's actions toward the grieving family.
"Okay," Face acquiesced. "But BA...you know you have nothing to make up for, right? No matter what happened to Lenny, it wasn't your fault, it couldn't be your fault. Shitty things happen to good people. We see it all the time. This is one of those times."
BA shook his head, unable to find the words that would match what he was feeling. Instead, he pushed the remains of his pie away and stood. Even amazing rhubarb couldn't soothe the roiling acid that had become a familiar warning in his stomach.
He leaned down towards the table and braced himself on his hands, coming close to the lieutenant's face. "Some things people have to deal with alone. This is mine. Stay out of it. Put that in your report to the Colonel," he added sarcastically.
He was almost to the door of the diner, Face still behind him sitting in the booth, when a spikey-haired teenager called to him from a seat at the counter.
"Hey, cool Mohawk, dude!"
"Ain't no Mohawk," BA growled. He slammed the glass door open with enough force that it hit the wall outside and jangled the bell raucously.
The kid just gaped as BA stalked to his van, threw himself into the driver's seat and peeled out.
