The Forgotten Read Online Free PDF Page B

entire corps composed of up to five divisions, totaling nearly a hundred thousand highly trained soldiers, in combat. And he was now intently watching a TV show where people guessed the prices of everyday stuff in an attempt to win more stuff.
    “Can I keep the letter, sir?” he asked.
    Now that Puller had been summoned and had the letter and matter seemingly in hand, his father no longer seemed interested or upset. He waved his hand in a vague symbol of dismissal.
    “Take care of it, XO. Report back when the matter is resolved.”
    “Thank you, sir, I’ll do my best, sir.”
    Even though his father wasn’t looking at him, he performed a crisp salute, spun on his heel, and exited. He did this because the last time he’d seen his father he’d walked out on him in both disgust and frustration, leaving the old man to scream after him. Apparently that memory no longer resided in his father’s mind.Along with a lot of other things. But it had remained in Puller’s mind, stark and fierce.
    However, as his hand hit the door pull his father said, “Take care of Betsy, XO, she’s the real deal.”
    Puller looked back at his father. The old man had turned and was staring at him. His ice blue eyes appeared to hold as much lucidity as they ever had. He was no longer in
Price Is Right
land.
    “I will, sir. Count on me.”
    On the way out Puller ran into his father’s primary-care physician. Balding and slight of build, he was a good doctor and labored here for far less money than his medical degree from Yale could have earned him elsewhere.
    “So how’s he doing?” asked Puller.
    “As good as can be expected. Physically, he’s still an amazing specimen. I wouldn’t want to arm-wrestle him. But up top things seem to be continuing to slip.”
    “Anything that can be done?”
    “He’s on the meds typically prescribed for his condition. There is no cure, of course. We can’t reverse things now, though the future holds some promise for that. I just think it’s going to be a long downward spiral, John. And it might speed up as time goes on. Sorry it’s not better news.”
    Puller thanked the doctor and headed on. He knew all of this, but still asked each time he was here. Maybe part of him thought the answer might one day turn out to be different.
    He left the hospital and walked to his car. On the way he took the letter back out of his pocket. His aunt had helpfully written in her phone number in Paradise. He reached his car, sat on the hood, slid out his phone, and punched in the digits.
    Puller was not someone who liked to put off to the next minute what he could do in the current one.
    The phone rang four times and then went to voice mail. Puller left a message for his aunt and then clicked off and put the phone away.
    He gazed at the letter again as he sat there on the hood of hisMalibu. Well, it actually belonged to the United States Army, but Puller
was
the United States Army, so maybe it was the same thing.
    A letter with troubling concerns. But then again he’d only tried to call her once. Maybe she was simply at the doctor’s. Elderly people spent much of their time at doctors’ offices. He had certainly seen that with his father.
    Puller sighed. In many important ways this was not his problem. His father had probably forgotten all about the letter. Puller hadn’t seen his aunt in a long time. She had not been a part of his life as an adult. But she had been when he was a young boy. Sort of a substitute for a mother who was not there because she couldn’t be.
    All these years later Puller still could recall vividly moments spent with Betsy Simon. She had been there for him when he needed something that he simply did not have in life. Things that little boys needed. Things that fathers could not supply, even if they happened to be around, which his father had not. He’d been too busy commanding thousands of men to do things not just the Army way, but also
his
way. Betsy Simon had filled that void. She was