PMadriani 12.5 - The Second Man by Steve Martini Read Free Book Online

useless. But the worst part—­the worst times are when you’re free. When you’ve got nothing to do. That’s when the devil comes visiting,” said Akers.
    â€œYou mean when you’re off duty?”
    â€œNo. I mean when you’re done. When they’ve used you up, turned you out,” said Akers. “That’s when you sit around thinking. Because there is nothing else to do. As long as you have another mission, you’re fine. You’re busy. Your mind is focused on trying to survive, trying to keep your friends alive. It’s when they take that away from you, that’s when you descend into hell. It’s the random nature of all of it that drives you crazy. You wonder why them and not you? Why did they have to die? Why do I deserve to live?”
    â€œYou can’t think that way,” said Joselyn.
    â€œOh, yes, you can.”
    â€œIs that why you got out? Left the Navy?”
    â€œI don’t know. Some of the guys used to do the Clint Eastwood thing. Remember the movie, the Western, the line before he blows the guy’s head off . . . ‘deserve’s got nothing to do with it.’ But he was wrong,” said Akers. “Deserve has everything to do with it. A foot this way, a yard that way with a bullet or a hot piece of shrapnel makes all the difference in the world.”
    â€œYou’re not God,” said Joselyn. “You can’t change fate or the fact that a bullet and another man shared the same space at the same time. That’s physics.”
    â€œIs that what it is?”
    Joselyn looked over at him. He was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, animated, muscled arms flexed as if he might rip the steering column from the firewall of the car by its roots. A rivulet of a tear ran down his cheek from under the dark glasses. She couldn’t see his eyes.
    â€œI didn’t mean to raise subjects that are painful,” said Joselyn.
    â€œFrom my experience, there’s not a whole lot in life that doesn’t come with some kind of pain.”
    â€œIt’s been that bad?”
    â€œAt times. But they tell me it’s good to talk about it.”
    â€œWho’s ‘they’?”
    Â­â€œPeople. Friends. You know.”
    â€œMaybe we need to find something happier to talk about,” said Joselyn.
    â€œAgreed.”
    Akers took one hand off the wheel, settled back into the seat, and relaxed a little. He glanced into the rearview mirror, then goosed the accelerator until the speedometer reached seventy-­five, where he set the cruise control.
    As the car settled in, open road and empty lanes, he said: “You know, I find it very easy to talk to you.”
    â€œI’m glad.”
    He reached over and put his hand on her thigh. “You’re a very nice lady.”
    She picked it up by one finger and handed it back to him. “And you’re married, and I’m in a relationship,” said Joselyn. “Let’s not forget that.”
    â€œWhere’s your sense of adventure?” he smiled.
    Joselyn took out her sunglasses, saw they were smudged, and exhaled on the lenses. She looked about for something to wipe them with. Seeing nothing, she reached forward to open the glove box to see if there was some Kleenex. Instead, what she saw inside was an Avis rental-­car envelope with the contract sticking out of it. “You didn’t rent the car?”
    He looked over, saw the open glove box, and quickly reached across to slap it closed.
    â€œThere was no need to spend the money on a rental.” Joselyn knew he was out of work and probably short of cash.
    â€œMy car wasn’t up to the trip—­pretty beat-­up,” he told her.
    â€œWe could have taken mine,” she said.
    â€œMy party. I invited you. It’s all right. Don’t worry about it,” he told her.
    â€œAt least let me pay for it,” said Joselyn.
    â€œNO!” The