“Yes, I can see it.”
“But you still don’t approve?”
“I didn’t say that. Part of me keeps balking at the idea, but another part...” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s all so damn complicated.”
“And the suffering makes it more so.”
“You think any of them will ever find peace again?”
“I hope so. They wouldn’t if they had to go through due process, that’s for sure. Besides, if it happens I am wrong to be playing God this way, I’ll answer for it some day.”
“So will they.”
“Right. One thing for sure: Eberhardt and Ira Erskine already have.”
She was quiet for a time. Then, “I really don’t know you as well as I thought I did,” as if she were a little nonplussed by the admission. “Either that, or you keep changing in ways I’m not sure I understand.”
“Do I seem that different to you?”
“Right now, yes.”
“Maybe I am. But in only one way.”
“Which way?”
“I’m like the kid who comes to realize Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are a couple of big-time frauds. After nearly sixty years I’ve grown up. I don’t have any more illusions, pretty or otherwise. I’ll never have another as long as I live.”