Chapter 4 - The Threat Across the Wire
There was a scuffle of fabric, the sound of a heavy hand grabbing the receiver, and then Howard’s gravelly, alcohol-thickened voice filled the speaker.
“Julian! What the hell is the matter with you? Disrespecting your mother like that! You think because you wear that little trident you can talk to us however you please? You get your priorities straight, boy! Nora’s playing dress-up in an office, and you’re wasting military fuel to hold her hand!”
I felt the blood drain from my face, but Julian didn’t flinch. He didn’t raise his voice. He dropped it, lower and deadlier than an approaching storm.
“Listen to me very carefully, Howard,” Julian said, refusing even to call him father. “You have spent my entire life belittling Nora. You told her she wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t tough enough, that her service was a joke. You told the whole town of Scranton that you were a tragic patriot whose body failed him before you could serve.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Howard yelled, though a flicker of unease crept into his voice. “I had medical issues! Everyone knows that!”
“Everyone knows the lie you told them,” Julian replied softly. He opened the manila folder with one hand, flipping through the pages of yellowed microfiche records. “I have your service jacket right here, Howard. Naval Station Great Lakes, 1978. You lasted exactly forty-two days in boot camp before you were caught stealing commissary funds and faking an injury to avoid physical screening. You were discharged under Chapter 11 for entry-level fraudulent enlistment.”
Complete, absolute, suffocating silence gripped the line.
I stared at Julian in stunned disbelief. Forty-two days? Discharged for theft and cowardice?
“Where... where did you get that?” Howard’s voice had lost every shred of its booming arrogance. It was thin, reedy, and suddenly the voice of a terrified, pathetic old man. “That’s private record. That’s sealed!”
“Nothing is sealed from Naval Special Warfare when a sailor’s security clearance gets flagged for family fraud,” Julian lied smoothly, though the documents were terrifyingly real. “For thirty years, you displayed Grandfather’s medals on your mantle while telling everyone you couldn’t serve because of your knees. You hated Nora because every time she put on that uniform, every time she advanced in rank, she achieved the honor you were kicked out of the Navy for stealing.”
“Julian... please,” Beverly’s voice pleaded faintly in the background. “Don’t do this. Your father’s heart...”
“Nora and I are taking four days of terminal leave starting right now,” Julian said coldly. “We have an eight-hour drive north. When we arrive on Birch Street tomorrow morning, we aren’t coming for your barbecue. We are coming to collect Grandfather’s footlocker, his medals, and every single piece of naval history you’ve defiled with your presence. If you aren’t on the porch waiting with those boxes, Howard, I will personally hand-deliver this discharge record to the Scranton Veterans of Foreign Wars post, where you’ve been drinking free beer under false pretenses for twenty years.”
Julian didn’t wait for a response. He tapped the red button, ending the call.
The wind off the bay seemed warmer now. My heart was pounding against my ribs, an electric mix of shock, vindication, and grief coursing through my veins.
“Is that true?” I whispered, staring at the file. “Dad was... discharged for fraud?”
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Julian handed me the folder. “He’s a counterfeit, Nora. He always was. He tore you down because looking at you reminded him of the absolute coward he was at nineteen. Now, Commander Whitaker... go change into your travel whites. We have a nine-hour drive to Pennsylvania, and we’re going to settle this debt once and for all.”
***
