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He was a peculiar guy. I'd never met him, just seen his picture and heard tell of him from the veterans of GEE's early days... And I'd seen him on film... sitting right underneath a five-ton container of radioactive waste, getting thrown into the sea when it was dropped on his Zodiac... And he was like that even when he wasn't working — a drunk, a bar fighter. But the guy I was looking at was totally different. Shit, he was drinking herb tea. He talked in a slow, lilting baritone murmur, he paused in the middle of sentences to make sure the grammar was right, to pick just the right word. But it wasn't a wimpy Boone I was looking at. I had to remember the action he'd just pulled off, on short notice, on my behalf....
Boone turned and looked at me with his invisible smile again. (en) |
