Amerikan Eagle

“Who cares? Its just labels, that’s all. Progressive, liberal, Communist, socialist, even Republican… labels. Call us the resistance, if you like. But what counts is the fight, what people bring to the fight, and I’ve been in the fight for years. Sam, do you know what it’s like to see children at your school, children in what’s supposed to be the richest and safest nation in the world, wearing scraps of blankets? To see brothers and sisters take turns eating breakfast because there’s not enough food at home? And who’s helping them? Nobody, that’s who! If that makes me a bad woman, someone who uses her family to help, then damn it all to hell, I’m proud to be a bad woman, a bad wife, a bad mother—”

“But what—”

She shook her head, furious. “So when I’m told to prepare for a guest from that scheduled train, I do just that. And when I’m told to give myself up to the FBI so that you do what has to be done for the greater good, whatever that is, then I do it. I’m sorry, and maybe you don’t believe me, but I didn’t know it was going to end with Tony being killed. And I didn’t know Tony was going to try to shoot Hitler. I just knew he was in terrible danger, that he was part of something I belonged to as well.”

“And what about Toby?”

She looked toward the boy’s bedroom, and her sharp voice faltered. “He’s a brave boy. A very brave boy… He did what I asked him to do, whether it was delivering messages or trusting his mother, and I wish he had a brave father to look up to.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

Her sad eyes pierced him. “What do you think? From what you’ve told me, what I’ve seen in the papers, Tony was ready to sacrifice all to get himself killed in an attempt to assassinate Hitler to draw attention from what was being planned for that bastard Long, and there you are, protecting both Hitler and Long. Two fascists destroying what’s left of civilization. I secretly saw Tony a few days ago. He said he was doing it all for Toby and what kind of life our son was going to have. Can you say the same thing?”

“I was doing my job,” he countered, knowing how weak it sounded.

“That’s some job you’ve got there, Sam Miller.” She walked away from him, then turned, eyes wet with tears. “I’m going to my dad’s place, Sam. And I’m taking Toby with me.”

He was chilled, as if his blood had been replaced by salt water from the harbor. “For how long?”

“However long it takes for me to think things through. I need to be with someone committed to our fight, someone who wants to change things, to make things better. You’re just part of the system, and… and I’m not sure if I can live with someone like that. Over the years, you’ve done some things here and there—giving money to refugee kids, looking the other way at our basement station, ignoring some of the stupid laws from D.C.—but I need more.”

“Sarah, you’ve got to—”

“Sam, please,” she interrupted. “I feel guilty about a lot of things, and one of those things is your brother. Right now I want Toby to be proud of his dead uncle, a man who sacrificed himself for everything, and I’m not sure what Toby has to be proud of when he sees you. And I don’t like feeling that way.”

“So your dad’s place is the answer?”

Again a sad look that went right through him. “I don’t see why not. I’ve always trusted Dad even when you’ve had nothing but contempt for him. I admire him, too. He’s put everything on the line to do what’s right.”

Then it made sense. The visit to the store days ago from the man called Eric the Red. The encounter at the island: You think you know everything about me, everything about how I think and work. Kid, you know shit.

Sam said, “Your dad is your connection, isn’t he? The one who told you what to do. On the surface, he’s a full-fledged member of the Party. Underneath, he’s something else.”

“Very good, Inspector. You figured that out all on your own.”

With his newly minted inspector’s badge weighing in his coat pocket, he found he could not say a word. And what about Pierce Island, he thought, should he tell her about Pierce Island and her father and the sailor?

No, that would sound like cheap revenge and nothing else.

Again saying words he couldn’t believe he was saying. “So you’re off to be with your father, your resistance leader.”

“For now.”

He could hear the sobs from his son, weeping over his shattered models, crying over the broken dream that his father could protect him. Sorry, kid, he thought, so very sorry.

“Tell Toby… tell him I have to go out on a case, all right? I don’t want to make a scene. Tell him I’ll make it all right.”