Days which Bear and I had a funeral were blessed; the work required enough concentration to be distracting. The work was a good reason to crawl out of bed. Other days when nothing was on tap, I began my weed-whacking odyssey late in the afternoon often finishing after sundown. Those gloomy days taught me darkness could be my friend, it coddled me tight in its bosom, protecting me from a didactic world.
After a dismal day of weed whacking, Fernwood faded in dying gray. Welcoming the darkness, I shuffled past the ashen tombstones. Passing under the trees between the cemetery and my house I heard Shannie's voice, "Come with me to Washington."
Shannie was nowhere to be found. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to sprint for the safety of my bedroom. With Shannie-like determination, I kept a normal stride.
"Up here," Shannie's voice called after me.
I glanced up. Shannie sat in a tree. "Come with me to Washington," Shannie repeated from the branches where I used to spy funerals.
"You scared the shit out of me!" I snarled.
"I think I'm on to something," she said ignoring my complaint.
"Not this again!"
"Yes this again. There's going to be a parade in D.C. Count's unit is marching. It'll be a good chance to talk to some people, find out what happened."
"I told you I don't care."
"I think your full of shit," Shannie's eyes glowed like emeralds in dying light. "You walk around like a zombie. It's like you're dying to find out and won't admit it to yourself."
"Bullshit," I protested.
"I'm only going to ask you once more; Come to Washington with me." Shannie swayed with the breeze.
Avoiding her gaze I kicked at the ground.
"You coming or not?" she implored.
"Why should I?" I mumbled.
"Cut the shit, do you want to go or not?"
"NO!" I answered.
"Suite yourself," Shannie swung off the tree. "I'll ask Beetle. She'll go."
"Fuck her!" I protested. "I'll go!"
***
The sun reflected off the Potomac as Shannie and I made our way through the crowd lining the Arlington Memorial Bridge. Its shadow skimmed over the water reaching for the distant Fourteenth Street Bridge. Overhead, the chopping sound of a helicopter washed down upon the crowd. Around us, people looked skyward. Taking advantage of the crowd's preoccupation, Shannie led us to the parade's disassembly area. It was here that Shannie choose to lie in ambush, waiting for the right moment to assault any member of the 2nd Brigade, 101st airborne.