The First Bad Man

EPILOGUE

The flight from China was full of families and it took a long time to deplane. Then there was an endless line at Customs and the teenager in front of them couldn’t find his passport. Finally they were headed down the long corridor to Arrivals. Moms and dads and husbands and wives at the end of the hall were exclaiming and hugging. As they walked he wiped his face with his hand and smoothed his hair down. She looked at him nervously.

“Are we late?”

“We’re a little late. It’s okay.”

“What if she hates me?”

“Not possible.”

“What should I call her? Ms. Glickman?”

“Just call her Cheryl.”

“Is that her? That woman waving?”

“Where?”

“Down at the very end. With the blond lady. See?”

“Oh. Yeah. She looks old. Clee came too, that’s Clee.”

“She’s so happy to see you — oh, she’s running.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s pretty far.”

“We could meet her halfway — should we run?”

“Really? I have my bag. How about you just run and I’ll catch up?”

“No, no. We can walk.”

“It’s just — my bag. Oh wow. She’s really gonna run the whole way.”

“Yeah.”

“Just go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, give me your bag. I’ll catch up with you. Go.”

He ran toward her and she ran toward him and as they got closer they both started to laugh. They were laughing and laughing and running and running and running and music played, brass instruments, a soaring anthem, not a dry eye in the house, the credits rolled. Applause like rain.