The morning came too soon, although ‘sleeping in’ like I’d loved to do when not at one of my jobs in college, had gone the way of the dinosaurs, lost somewhere down at the bottom of the A Shau Valley. That the valley’s name was known by no one, so never brought up by me anywhere at any time except with Gularte, was beside the point. My eyes popped open at six or a bit earlier every day, rain or shine, dark or light but that was only if I’d slept at all during the night. Amazingly, the Christmas presents from the Western White House had played so wildly, through my mental process as I’d lain with my wife on the night before, that I’d escaped the necessity to check the flank security I didn’t have but had to usually get up and check anyway.

Galloways called me from a block away, not on the phone but through the ether between us. Lorraine made better coffee than either Mary or I, even though we had purchased a coffee maker at some considerable expense for us. Three days to Christmas but only two to the Eve. The tree was up and I was still hard put to get gifts that had real meaning for my wife and daughter. I’d found a Winnie the Pooh doll at Coronets, although it was twenty dollars which seemed way out of the ball part but would have to do. My wife was getting high heels, lingerie, and a swimsuit I’d picked out for her in Laguna Beach. When I’d told Gularte about the gifts, he’d laughed for quite some time.

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