Chapter 11 - The Ghost at the Gate-11
Two weeks after my promotion ceremony, I was driving back to the Lake Oswego compound in my civilian SUV after attending a charity gala for The Whitmore Foundation.
As my vehicle approached the outer security gate of the gated community, the automatic headlights illuminated a figure standing on the sidewalk under the pouring rain.
It was a man wearing a soaked canvas jacket, his shoes worn through at the soles, holding a plastic grocery bag over his head to shield himself from the downpour.
As my SUV slowed down near the biometric scanner, the man turned his face toward the lights.
It was Mark.
He looked unrecognizable. His hair was thin and greasy, his face gaunt, his eyes sunken into dark circles. He was shivering violently under the cold rain.
When he recognized my vehicle, he froze, taking a slow step toward the driver's side window.
I lowered my window two inches, keeping the doors locked, while two armed security guards from the gatehouse immediately stepped out, their hands resting on their sidearms.
"Anna?" Mark croaked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain against the roof. "Anna... is that you?"
"Mark," I said quietly. "You are violating the five-hundred-yard terms of your civil restraining order."
"I know... I know, I'm sorry!" Mark stammered, wiping rainwater from his face with a shaking hand. "I just... I work at a diner three miles from here now. I saw your picture in the newspaper... I just wanted to see if... if you were okay. If Maya was okay."
I looked at him through the glass. "Maya is safe, healthy, and happy. And I am doing very well."
Mark looked at my shoulder, where the silver star of a Brigadier General was pinned to my coat. He let out a dry, broken laugh that turned into a sob.
"A General..." he whispered, shaking his head in utter disbelief. "I had a General as a wife... and I threw you out for a major who didn't even care about me."
"You didn't throw me out because of my rank, Mark," I corrected gently. "You threw me out because you thought I had nothing left to give you."
Mark buried his face in his hands, weeping openly under the rain. "I'm so hungry, Anna... I haven't eaten a real meal in three days... my landlord is kicking me out of the shelter tomorrow..."
I looked at my security guards.
"Give him two hundred dollars cash from the gate petty fund," I instructed the lead guard. "And call a taxi to take him back to the city center."
Mark looked up, tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks. "Anna... you're giving me money?"
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"I am giving you a taxi ride away from my home, Mark," I said, my voice firm and clear. "Do not ever come back to this gate again. If you step foot on this street again, the guards will have you arrested immediately."
I rolled up my window, activated the gate scanner, and drove through the iron gates as they closed behind me, leaving the ghost of my past standing in the dark rain forever.
