He let that sit.
“Light refreshments will be provided.”
Nobody in the room moved.
“This boy’s father,” the admiral said, “ran into fire for his brothers. Just like his grandfather did for
me. And he didn’t come home.”
He looked down at Caleb.
“This boy doesn’t lack a father,” he said. “He has the bravest father in this room. He just can’t sit at
this table.”
He looked up at the room.
“So his father’s father came instead,” he said. “In the uniform he earned. With the medal he earned
pulling a frightened nineteen-year-old out of a burning hangar bay.”
He looked at me.
“And somebody asked him to leave,” he said, “because his uniform was a distraction.”
I heard a sound from the front of the room.
Dr. Prentiss had been standing by the stage the whole time. Listening.
Now he sat down. Hard. In the nearest chair. Like his legs had given out.
