His Other Life

Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

MAVERICK

Seattle, September 13, 1952

Dear Cass,

The trees are beginning to change here at home, and yesterday there was a chill in the morning air that brought me back to Seoul before the frost set in. Though I admit to occasional days of unbecoming self-pity at my remaining aches and pains, I still count my blessings daily that I have my life. That was no more true than when I read your harrowing description of the latest attacks. It pains me to hear of your terror as you sheltered with the others, and I pray the war will be over soon and you on your way home. You are truly the strongest woman I have ever met, but it is no wonder you dream of flying away. Even here, I sometimes watch the hawks and eagles up high with a pang of jealousy at their freedom. Do you know if Captain Eddings still keeps that black kite as a pet? It never sat right with me, and I think not with the poor bird either. But maybe no one is ever really free.

No, I am too morose today. Something about you brings my guard down even from the other side of the world, and I can’t help but be honest—like the thought of you reaches deep into my heart. It is just that work has been hard to come by, and so many here are blissfully ignorant of what is taking place beyond our borders. I spend too much time with myself.

But I will end on a happier note. The neighbor’s dog just had a litter, and I am taking one of the pups. I will name him Pip for our favorite literary character. I hope to send you a photo of him next time.

Is it too much to say that I wish one day to be in your calming presence again? (There I go with that honesty.)

Yours truly,

Maverick