LO, I WILL TELL YOU A MYSTERY

Chapter 5 Heroes and Heroines

(Author's Note: Grace's story of the Lands and Heroes was taken from Bertholt Brecht's play GALILEO, with some deliberate changes.)

Dear Diary:

It's been several days since I've been able to write, since I've been separated from my laptop. I'll explain that soon. I have time to catch up now because I'm sort of grounded for the first time in my life. Dad's caught some bad habits from Mr. Girardi, and I'll explain that, too.

Anyway, on the morning after our chase, the Girardis met us for breakfast, and the man told us that the police had caught the guy in the Mercedes with his cousin's pocketbook, and a will inside. Joan was puzzled, so we spelled it out. Apparently the jerk thought he was going to inherit a lot of money, hence the Mercedes. But his cousin had found a later will that favored her and froze him out, and was on the way to a lawyer's office to ask about filling it with the probate court. His last chance was snatching her pocketbook, but it didn't it occur to him that a bright girl might notice the odd connection between Mercedes cars and purse-snatching. Where there's a will, there's a way to mess things up.

Girardi had also gotten his colleagues in Arcadia to transmit some mug photos over the Internet. Dad decided to have the Rivers look at them, but because of the three-hour time-lag between Washington and California, we'd have to wait until almost noon to call them.

The Dads suggested that Joan and I repeat yesterday's plan of going to see the sights -- and this time, no detours. We agreed, and we had better stick to the agreement. I didn't know if Dad put a GPS transmitter in the Girardis' car, but I wouldn't put it past him.

----

Joan gazed at the magnificent Lincoln Memorial, and wondered. She knew God had chosen other "friends" throughout the ages and molded them to carry out great deeds; was Lincoln one of them? Or did he attain greatness on his own? Somehow she hoped that the latter was true.

Veronica had a peculiar expression as she beheld the edifice. "What are you thinking?" Joan asked, then hoped desperately that Veronica did not ask her the same thing.

"It just occurred to me," muttered Veronica, "that we don't have any monuments in Neptune. Or any heroes worth building memorials to, for that matter. Tour guides may say 'There's the former mansion of famous movie star Aaron Echols', but that's not the same thing."

John had heard vaguely of a movie star named Aaron Echols. Veronica sounded very bitter to utter his name, and Joan decided not to press the subject.

"My friend Grace once told me a weird joke," Joan said. "A German says to a Swiss man: "I pity your land. It has no heroes.". And the Swiss replied "I pity your land. It needs heroes"'".

Veronica laughed. "That's Neptune. It needs heroes, and doesn't have any."

"Looks like a lot of people walking down that path there," remarked Joan, looking around. "What's over there?"

Veronica was apparently used to orienting herself -- which was not surprising if she had a habit of chasing strange cars. "There's a sign. The Vietnam War Memorial."

Joan's mother, an artist and art teacher, once described the difference between the two memorials. The Lincoln: a great white edifice thrusting up into the sky, largely intended to be viewed from the outside. The Vietnam: a dip in the ground, bounded on one side by black rock, inviting one to enter and contemplate..

Joan could not think of them in mere artistic terms, though. To her they represented two forms of heroism. Lincoln had achieved two great acts: freeing slaves, and saving the nation from the barbarians who would have torn it apart. The soldiers listed on the wall had died for -- Joan wasn't sure exactly what, since the tragedy had taken place two decades before she was born, but they had died for something. And to think that Joan often bitched if handed a new mission, even one she knew would have good ripples. She felt, vaguely, that she should somehow live up to the two monuments.

The two girls were walking further in the park when Joan's cell phone rang.

"This is your Dad," said Girardi's voice. "We were in luck; we managed to reach the Rivers early. They recognized Hunter's picture. He wasn't the person who negotiated their loan, but they've seen him in the office, probably the moneybags behind the operation. Keith thinks he has enough to return to California. I'm going to ask the police chief in Arcadia for permission to go with the Marses. It's way out of our jurisdiction, but there are a LOT of people in Arcadia who will be glad once Hunter is behind bars..

"I? Not us?" That was going to short out her mission, just when she had developed fresh motivation to carry it out!

"I'm sending you back to Arcadia, Joan. I don't want you getting near Hunter. Yeah, I know you think he wouldn't hurt you, but that was a year ago."

"What is he saying?" asked Veronica. Joan handed the cell to her and Veronica listened for a long time, doubtlessly hearing the Hunter story from Will's point of view. Finally she shut it off and returned it. "I guess we better go. I'm glad we met, Joan."

"Yeah," said Joan, too busy thinking to respond in kind.

The girls got back in the Girardi's car, and drove east along Constitution Avenue, the park's north boundary. It was not the most direct route home, but how could two tourists resist a path that took them by the White House and the Smithsonian Museums? At least that's what Joan would say if Veronica asked about her itinerary..

They reached 14th Street, one of the city's main thoroughfares, and Joan took a right turn, heading toward the Potomac River and the Commonwealth of Virginia on the other side.

"What are you doing?" shouted Veronica. "We're going the wrong way!"

"No," said Joan. "I'm going to National Airport and catching a plane to California, before Dad can stop me. I'm seeing this case through."

Even with her attention on the highway bridge, Joan was aware that Veronica was rummaging for something in her purse. "I can't go along with this, Joan. I promised your Dad and mine that I wouldn't drag you into trouble again."

"You're not dragging me into trouble. I'm dragging YOU into trouble."

Veronica laughed. "Wow. OK, I'll let myself be dragged. I didn't know that you had it in you. Both the courage, and the cynical rationalization."

"You'd be surprised if you knew what I was really like," said Joan. Boy, what an understatement. God's errand girl--- "What were you rummaging for?"

"My taser. Don't worry, I left it in California. And even if I had it and disagreed with you, I'd know better than to zap somebody driving me over a river. Too many people whom I know have gotten drowned."

Ick. Remind me not to get on her bad side. "OK. California, here I come."

TBC