“Scarecrow!  My office, now!” 

Billy’s roar nearly rattled his teeth.  He’d been expecting it after the evening’s earlier fiasco, but he’d held onto the hope that Billy Melrose would skip the lecture until he had a chance to get a good night’s sleep.  Sleep?  He’d nearly forgotten what that was.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a peaceful night. 

What had possessed him to go running into that warehouse, guns blazing, without backup?  Even he knew he was losing control.  The question was, if he knew what was happening, why didn’t he stop himself?  Did he want to die?  He was tired of fighting the voice in his head.  He knew deep down it was right.  He had a future, once upon a time, but he had let it go.  He’d watched as that future quit the Agency and walked out of his life. 

Over the years he had come to terms with his decision, or so he thought.  He told himself that she was better off without him.  He would only bring danger to her life, and she would only leave him like the rest. 

He stood silently, nodding at Billy at expected moments, not paying attention to the angry man in front of him. 

“Do I make myself clear, Scarecrow?” 

“Uh, yes, sir.”

“Good, now what about those reports on the former employees?  I need the whereabouts of everyone who has left the Agency in the past ten years.  You promised me if I took you off the Spring Cleaning detail, you’d take care of them for me.  Now here it is already August, and I have yet to see them.” 

“I know.  I have them just about finished.  I only have one more left to do.”  He knew from the look on his supervisor’s face that Billy was well aware of the name on that last file. 

“Well, see that they are all on my desk by Monday morning.”

“Yes, sir.”  He gave Billy a mock salute as he walked out the door. 

Lee silently thanked him for sparing him yet another lecture about Amanda King.  The one he’d received after the whole Joe King/Estocian Government case was enough to last a lifetime. 

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February 15, 1985

“Mrs. King was a big help on this case.  It was good to see her again.”

“Billy, knock it off, will ya?”

“What?  I was just commenting that she was once again an asset to the Agency.  What’s wrong with that?”

“I know you, Billy!  You still think I should have asked her to stay last year.  Look, she left on her own.  I had nothing to do with it.  She’s an adult.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Bil-ly!” 

His boss’s rumbling laugh was enough to annoy him, without his next words.

“Yeah, I know what you’re going to say. ‘ You don’t need her, and you’re a better agent without her.’  Am I right?”

“Damn, straight!”

“But are you a better man?” he asked in a solemn voice.  Billy strolled out of the Q Bureau, leaving Lee with his mouth hanging open.    

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Shrugging off the daydream, Lee picked up the phone and dialed the number he hadn’t used in years.  Funny, it was still engrained in his memory. 

“Hello?”  Came the raspy, yet familiar voice on the other end of the line.

“Uh, Amanda?”

“Yes?  Lee?  Is that you?”

“Yeah,” he choked out, then cleared his throat, and continued,  “Yeah, it’s me.  How are you?”

“I’m well.  And you?” 

She sounded shocked to hear from him.  ‘Of course she’s shocked.  You haven’t spoken in over nine years.’  “I’m good.  Look, Amanda, I need to see you.  I mean, I’m reviewing all our former employees as a favor to Billy, and you’re the last person on my list.”

“Ah, I see.” 

Was that disappointment in her voice?  “So, can we meet?”

“Well, now really isn’t a good time.  See, my flight leaves early tomorrow afternoon--”

“Listen, Amanda.  It’ll only take a moment of your time.  I just need to go through the standard questions, and then you can be on your way to . . . where did you say you were going?”

She huffed, apparently annoyed at his interruption.  “I’m flying to Hawaii tomorrow to get married, Lee.”

“Married?”  He wanted to scream.  Why did he feel like he’d just been punched in the stomach by one of the bad guys?  She was getting married?  What did he care?  She hadn’t been part of his life for years.  ‘She was never a part of your life, Stetson.  She was merely an acquaintance.’  He shook the thoughts from his head and focused on what she was saying.  

“I guess I could meet you in the morning--”

“Great, why don’t we meet at that café down the street from the Agency at ten?”

“Sure, Lee.  See you then.” 

Why did she sound so sad?  She’d always sounded so upbeat and happy.  Was she still mad at him after all this time?  

“Bye, Ama--” He heard the hum of the dial tone before he had a chance to finish. 

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Leaving the drycleaners after picking up his suit, Lee decided to stop off at the liquor store adjacent to the cleaners to buy some Scotch.  If he was going to have to come face to face with his past, he might as well do it with a familiar friend. 

He was just about to walk up to the counter to purchase the Scotch, when a young man sauntered in.  He wore baggy jeans that hung off his hips, a dark concert T-shirt, and several gold chains around his neck.  He seemed anxious.  Sensing trouble, Lee walked over to the wall of wine bottles the shopkeeper was always bragging about.  He pretended to search the wall for the perfect bottle while carefully watching the young man’s actions. 

“Yo  yo  yo!  Check it out, G!  You payoff for lotto here, right?”  At the cashier’s hesitant nod, the young man continued.  “Bam!”  He slapped the lotto ticket onto the counter and smiled brightly.  “238 bucks, baby!  Pay up, G!”

The elderly Chinese shopkeeper pushed the ticket back at the young black man and yelled, “You drew the lines in, I know all about this scam.  You go, or I call 911!” 

“Why you play me like that, G?  It’s real.  Check it out!  You didn’t even look at it.  Now pay up!”  He pushed the ticket back toward the man. 

“It not real!  I call cops!  Get out of here now!” The man picked up the telephone and started dialing. 

When the young man whipped out a pistol and aimed it at the proprietor, the occupants of the store drew in a collective gasp.  “Hang up the phone, G!” 

Painfully aware of the innocent shoppers in the small, dank store, Lee knew nothing good would come from this standoff.  He strode to the front of the store, intent on breaking things up before they got any worse.  Unfortunately, the man brandishing the gun saw him coming and cut him off. 

“Stupid ass white boy in $2000 suit gets capped for trying to be a hero--news at eleven.  That’s what you want to see?  He shoved the gun into Lee’s chest.  “Do you wanna die?”

“No.  I’m just looking to make a business deal.  You sell me the ticket for $200, I take it to another store, one where the cashier doesn’t have a death wish . . .” Lee glanced at the man behind the counter and shook his head.  “And I make thirty-eight bucks.  Simple as that.”

The gun-toting punk seemed to think about the offer for a second, and then grabbed the bottle of Scotch from Lee’s hand.  “Yeah, all right.”  He sauntered over to the counter and snatched the ticket from the cashier.  He looked pointedly at the frightened man.  “You blew it, man.  You blew it.  Ticket was real, dawg.”  He shook his head.  “Damn, you had your chance, too.” 

Lee stepped over to the man behind the counter, took out his wallet, and laid a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.  At the owner’s look of confusion, he added,  “For the Scotch.” 

As he stood by the door, Scotch in hand, the young man called to Lee.  “Come on, Lee.  Let’s get out of here.”  

Once they had left the store, the young black man handed him the lottery ticket.  Lee took it and tucked it in the inside pocket of his jacket.  “How’d you know my name was Lee?”

“I saw it in your wallet when you paid for the Scotch.”

Lee shook his head, wondering how he’d seen it from his position at the door, but shook it off as he handed the man two hundred dollars. 

“Nice doing business with you.”  The man turned to leave, but stopped as Lee spoke. 

“Hey, um.  Why’d you pull that stunt in there?  You might want to re-think your plan for next time.  You’re going to end up getting killed.” 

“You’re talking to the wrong person about regrets, Lee.”

“I mean there are programs out there--”

“Wait, are you actually trying to save me?  He looked around the empty street and laughed.  “This is crazy!” he shouted to the sky above.  “The man thinks I need to be saved!”

“Hey, everyone needs something.”

“Yeah?  Well, what do you need, Lee?

“Me?”

“You just said everybody needs something.”

“I’ve got everything I need.”

“Wow!  It must be great being you.”

“I’m not saying you’d be able to do it without some hard, honest work and possibly some medication, but I--” He was once again cut off by the younger man’s laughter. 

“You know, I’m going to really enjoy this.  You just remember you did this, Lee.  You brought this on yourself.”  He tossed him the bottle and disappeared into the dark night, leaving Lee standing there in confusion.

“What the hell was that all about?”

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He entered his apartment, tossed his keys onto the bar, and pulled a glass from the shelf.  Pouring himself a drink, Lee trudged over to the couch and plopped down, propping his feet on the coffee table.  It had been a long day.  A lot of feelings he thought he had rid himself of years ago had found their way back into his life. 

Loosening his tie, he took a gulp of Scotch.  What would it be like to see her again after so many years?  Would she bring back the same feelings he’d fought to hide for so long?  What were those feelings anyway?  Was she really flying off to get married?  ‘Face it, Stetson.  You’re too late.  Do your job and then leave her alone, for good.’  He swallowed back another shot, and then staggered to the bedroom, hoping the alcohol would allow him a dreamless sleep. 

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