Chapter 72
THE CHRISTIAN DEMOCRATS managed to pull it out in the regional elections, and a day or two later, Teo’s story about the Mirfield broke.
He had been able to confirm the drug charges and also managed to get his hands on a copy of the toxicology report.
Out of one hundred and ten men aboard the sub, twenty-four had tested positive for marijuana, including the XO.
Islanders were outraged, not just because so many of the men aboard the Mirfield had been high when they’d crossed the Atlantic (and quite possibly when they’d navigated the narrow channels of the archipelago), but also because the command had not been transparent about the investigation.
Protesters gathered down at the harbor, waving signs that translated roughly to: SHOULD WE TRUST OUR FUTURE TO A BUNCH OF DRUG ADDICTS?
and SHAME ON UNCLE SAM. I really liked this sign because someone had gone to the painstaking trouble of re-creating the iconic I WANT YOU recruitment poster, except that in this version, Uncle Sam was not pointing his finger but holding a big joint between two fingers.
It was very clever, but when I described it to Paul over dinner, he wasn’t amused.
“This isn’t a joke, Eileen,” he said, and I sat up a little straighter.
“No, I know. It’s very serious.”
The protests rankled Paul, who felt that the navy was handling the situation, and the archipelago and its residents had never been at any real risk. “These guys are so well trained, they could be drunk as skunks and still execute an emergency blow blindfolded.”
I was fairly certain Teo would disagree with him on that point.
But it wasn’t like I was going to tell him that.
In fact, when it came to Teo, I wasn’t sure what to tell Paul.
I had just had this very nice lunch at Francesca and Bernardo’s, and my inclination ordinarily would have been to tell Paul all about it, minus the PCI stuff, which always made him nervous.
I knew, however, that the second I mentioned Teo had been at the lunch, Paul’s head was going to explode.
I practiced breaking it to him gently, saying something super-casual, like Teo stopped by Francesca’s the other day during my lesson, and we all wound up having lunch or I had lunch at Francesca’s the other day, and you’ll never guess who dropped by.
But even those admissions were technically lies, because I had known Teo was coming for lunch when I’d accepted the invitation.
I went back and forth on this for days and finally realized too much time had passed to say anything at all.
But it’s funny how even a lie of omission begets more lies.
Because later, when Paul and I talked about what had happened with the Mirfield, I couldn’t admit to knowing much.
If I did, Paul might ask where I was getting my information, and I’d be right back where I started.
It was a tricky business, and I resolved to think twice about the invitations I accepted moving forward.