No Pit So Deep: The Cody Musket Story (26 page)

“We were a half day’s march into enemy territory. We knew that as soon as we left, these kids would run to their parents and give away our position. We would be ambushed before the end of the day. We would be coming home in body bags.”

Cody knew the look. He dreaded Beeker’s next words.

“We drew straws.” The mayor’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I pulled the short one.”

Cody leaned back. “You’ve carried this all these years?”

“For forty-five years I’ve kidded myself. Maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe I just dreamed it. Maybe all soldiers do it, even some of the medal winners like…even guys like Cody Musket.” He glanced up briefly.

“But now, I’m an old man. I found out four days ago that I have about six months — glioblastoma, brain cancer. I can’t pretend anymore. My parents survived the Nazis only to give birth to a murderer. What you said about becoming like your enemies…” He covered his face with his hands.

It gave Cody no pleasure to see Leonard Beeker crumble. “We lose a piece of ourselves in war, Leo. It sometimes makes us do horrible things our hearts don’t want to do. After that, we feel broken, dirty, like Satan’s offspring.”

Leo stared into Cody’s face. “When I heard you speak this morning…” He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “The shadow of death — you said we see that shadow because we don’t believe God loves us. I know God couldn’t possibly love someone like me, and I never thought you would forgive the things I said about you in the press.”

Cody trusted Leo with the rest of his own story, the parts he had not shared earlier — the children who had died because he departed from the mission plan, the secrecy, and having to live with a medal he did not deserve. He told about shooting the unarmed Al Adami.

“Jews and Christians are brothers, Leo, and I would count it an honor if you would let me say a prayer with you.”

“Don’t waste your breath. I’m not worth it.”             

“I believe Jesus suffered to pay for the unthinkable things I’ve done cuz He believes I’m worth it. But you gotta decide for yourself what you believe about that. What you did is horrible but not beyond God’s forgiveness. You may think of yourself as a worthless ol’ fossil that nobody could love, but God doesn’t see it that way and neither do I.”

Cody said a prayer to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob for an enemy — now a friend.

A Presence hovered.

On Monday morning, Cody and Brandi met for breakfast with Baker and Elena Rafferty. Brandi had reserved a booth near the back of the coffee shop.

Baker was tall and muscular with a deep timbre in his voice. His handlebar mustache was curled on the ends, a la Rollie Fingers, a Hall of Fame pitcher Cody had once met. He tended jovial, but Cody sensed he was covering for deeper sorrows.

Elena was frail and quiet, but she had a pleasing smile. She sat close to Baker and kept her hand on his knee when he talked.

“I hope you folks don’t mind,” Cody began. “Brandi and I did some checking on you late last night. Your background story is the subject of several blogs.”

“We didn’t wanna pry,” Brandi assured. “Just wanted to gather public information to help us understand why you are unemployed.”

“We noticed you’re from Chaserburg, Maine,” Cody said. “Are you in Texas to find work?”

“I joined the Chaserburg police force when I was discharged from the Navy,” Baker responded. “After that incident with the kid, things totally fell apart. Now, no law enforcement agency will hire either of us. We finally started driving five days ago in search of work. Two years now without a job.”

“So you’re just wandering across the country?” Brandi asked.

Elena spoke up for the first time. “We left our three-year-old son with my mother and emptied our savings and just took to the road. We had received a response to our inquiry about a job here in Houston at a private security company. They wanted a husband-and-wife team, but by the time we arrived here, the opening had been filled by a local couple.”

Cody addressed Baker, “We know about the mission in the Chechen Republic ten years ago that went wrong. You were the leader of that SEAL team.”

“Yes. So you know I was the only one to survive. It was a judgment call, my call — a fatal error.”

“I understand,” Cody said, “but you were promoted and given a medal. You and your men saved everyone in that compound.”

“Correct, with the help of three brave locals who picked up weapons my fallen fighting men had left in the street. There isn’t a night that passes I don’t dream about it. I was getting past it until I shot that kid in Chaserburg. And now…”

“But honey, the kid was with guys who had guns, and they were shooting at us.” Elena looked across the table at Brandi. “We weren’t married then. We were partners on patrol looking for a gang of five who had just murdered a judge and his wife.”

“I know.” Brandi leaned forward. “Baker returned fire and hit one of ‘em — a fourteen-year-old boy.”

“But when the fight was over, we couldn’t find a weapon on him,” Baker said. “The kid was a bystander caught in the middle of the fight. The incident went viral. All the information about my PTSD counseling and the men I lost in Chechnya became public.”

“We both were exonerated for the shooting but eventually fired due to political pressure,” Elena added. “But what you said yesterday…” She looked at her husband. “That part about the shadow of death and losing your hope —”

Baker stepped in. “You see, two days ago, we had reached the point of just giving up. Our savings runs out in a month. We have my military retirement, but we have an autistic son, and —”

“Then, yesterday,” Elena smiled. “We…” She glanced at Baker and grasped his hand. “We prayed. For the first time in our four-year marriage, we prayed, just the two of us, together.”

“Yeah,” Baker affirmed. “See, we were supposed to meet a guy for breakfast in this very same coffee shop — another job interview. He never showed. We went back to the car.”

“That’s when it happened,” Elena broke in. “I was crying. Everything was all wrong. There was just no place for us in this world. Then he grabbed my hand and said two magic words —
let’s pray.”

By now, Brandi’s eyes were filling up. She pulled a tissue from her purse and offered one to Elena.

“I rather think she was shocked. I prayed, or at least I tried. Wasn’t much of a prayer.”

“Ohhh. It was a great prayer.” Elena leaned her cheek on Baker’s shoulder.

“It was a first for us,” Baker asserted. “I said
amen
afterward because I once heard a Navy Chaplain say that. Then I turned the ignition, but the friggin’ car wouldn’t start.”

Elena chuckled. She looked across the table at Brandi and Cody as Baker continued.

“Finally, I sat there banging my fist on the steering wheel and this van from Fox News shows up. But instead of asking for a jump-start, I roll down my window and ask him what’s happening. This media guy gets out of the van and says, ‘Cody Musket is speaking.’ I ask him who the heck Cody Musket is.”

Elena jumped back in. “So I say to him, ‘Honey? Seriously? You don’t know who Cody Musket is? Brandi and the Babe?’” She chuckled again. “I couldn’t believe he didn’t know, after all that news about you guys last week.”

“Yeah. She knew who you were, so we followed the Fox News guys into the meeting. Then, when I heard you speak…” He put his hand over his eyes.

With a weighty expression, Elena finished his thought. “He said that when he heard your story at the meeting, he knew for the first time in his life there was a God.”

Brandi touched Cody’s forearm and leaned close to him. An impulse of the moment took him. He cleared his throat. “So, you see, it’s like this. Brandi and I plan to buy a home here in Houston. My apartment is too small for the three of us. We can’t live in a hotel forever, and we’ve got a security problem. We need someone to guard our property twenty-four seven, uh, preferably man and wife.” He looked at Brandi. “Right?”

Brandi’s lips parted, but she offered not a word. The couple across the table now stared incredulously at each other.

“I mean, we talked about this didn’t we, Wonder Woman? About a live-in arrangement? For somebody just like the Rafferty family?”

Brandi’s face lit up like the sunrise over Galveston Bay. “You mean we’re gonna buy a home here?”

“We talked about it,” Cody prodded. “Don’t you remember? We have a daughter who is almost two. She needs to be protected.”

“
Ohhhhh,
of course,
that
home,” she gushed as she looked across the table again. “Um, I’m sure we can find one with a guest house big enough for the three of you in back of the Olympic pool with a —”

Cody held up a stop sign. “Uh, we haven’t discussed the details yet, remember?”

She put the brakes on. “Well, man of steel, I hope Elena likes shopping for furniture and picking out interior colors. We’re gonna have a lot of decorating with
two
houses!”

“We don’t know what to say,” Baker answered. “I can’t think of a better gig. Only problem is,” he smirked, “I’m a Red Sox fan. Must we watch your team play?” His handlebars seemed to vibrate.

“I don’t believe in cruel and unusual treatment of employees,” Cody assured.

“Well then,” Brandi shook her shoulders, “I have an appointment this afternoon at the spa here in the hotel. I think Elena should join me for a facial, mani and pedi. We have a lot to discuss.”

“
Oh, how much fun!”
Elena was exuberant. “You guys can argue about sports or something. We girls have important things to worry about.”

“Okay, you’re both employed,” Cody said. “But these women are gonna have to lighten up a little, don’t you think, sailor?”

“Roger that, Boss.”

Cody resumed baseball activities seven days later. He was voted the league’s most valuable player and won American League Rookie of the Year honors while leading the Astros to a playoff berth. They were defeated in the American League Championship Series by the New York Yankees. A New York reporter pointed out that baseball fans in the Big Apple were known for being verbally brutal to visiting players. Referring to those fans, he asked Cody what it felt like to be in enemy territory.

“You gotta love these fans,” Cody said. “They paid good money, and they’re just havin’ fun. I know what it’s like to face
real
enemies, and baseball fans do not fall into that category.”

Brandi managed her newly found fame well. She became accustomed to the tight security and all the eyes that watched her. Her appellation, First Lady of Camelot, did not stop her from being tough as nails when it came to keeping Cody focused.

Planned Childhood would become more than a dream as Brandi forged a solid foundation with help from Julia and Silverbelle. Future plans called for establishing bases around the world which would serve as safe houses for rescued children. They secured financial commitments from professional athletes and other compassion-minded celebrities. Brandi formed alliances with several organizations that reached out to displaced or abused children and young women.

When Brandi asked Cody how he planned to “hit the bad guys where it hurts the most — in the wallet,” he would always say, “You never know.” Was she, or was she not on his
need to know
list? But did it really matter?  She had his heart. Did she really want to know everything that was in his head?

Cody’s new pajamas, courtesy of Brandi, never became
holey
in the knees again.

Knoxi became a straightforward media darling. Always quotable, she was never at a loss. On November 29, her second birthday, she was asked by
Fort Worth Star Telegram
reporter Sam Hummer what Cody did in his spare time now that the baseball season was over. She replied that she wasn’t sure, but that something secret went on every Sunday afternoon in her parents’ bedroom.

“It must be good,” she said, “cuz I heard my daddy tell my mama he was makin’ good use of the off-season.”

______________________

Before you read one last chapter which introduces the opening of Part II, I want to say, “Thank you!” I hope the story of Cody and Brandi thrilled you as much as it did me when I was writing it.

If No Pit So Deep has tweaked your senses in a good way, you can help me reach more readers by simply spreading awareness (blabbing it everywhere, friends, social media) and
especially
by posting a review with your favorite online retailer — just one or two lines written from your heart will do, and it takes only a minute.

You may contact me, James Miller, at
[email protected]
. I will read and personally respond. Check in on
www.authorjamesmiller.com
for updates about the coming release of No Pit So Deep, Part II and to check on special promotions.