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“Well, whoever had Col. Lee tell them off surely has a bleak outlook for their life and freedom going forward,” Mrs. Melissa Trent said as her husband Sgt. Vincent Trent and younger son Milton came into the house half-dried by the deep summer heat and explained why they had been soaking wet.
Andrew Ludlow, ten years old, had been doing his best to be the hero no one expected but they still needed, having washed out the eavesdropping ears of nine-year-old brother George and nine-year-old friend Milton and finally Milton's father Sgt. Trent after they heard Col. Lee's comeback to whoever that was –
“ – Who is about to die!” Milton said.
But still, as time passed, and Col. and Mrs. Lee were seen interacting with the seven Ludlow grandchildren who were in their charge, it was hard to believe that anyone, anywhere, had anything to fear from the Lee husband, whose patience and understanding with children seemed almost infinite.
“But they are children,” Sgt. Trent said. “I'm sure nobody who saw Col. Lee's ancestral uncle Robert E. with his own children when they were that age could have ever guessed the damage he would do.”
“Nope,” Mrs. Trent said. “And see, here is the thing, Vincent, as someone who shares a similar diagnosis to Col. Lee: there's another way to look at bipolar disorder that catches people who don't have it by surprise, just like the ability to hyper-focus in ADHD and OCD is amazing when people who learn differently can harness it. That is, Vincent, people like us who are neurodivergent can access parts of us to levels someone who is not neurodivergent would never think of going toward – not that it wouldn't be possible with training and study, but if your brain doesn't work like that normally, it just doesn't.
“Col. Lee made things work without a diagnosis for decades, which says that he has learned how to harness both the ups and the downs of bipolarity – his calm, angelic manners are the pendulum, swinging back and forth but always the same in appearance, always pulled by gravity back to center, and he seems to have a deep intellectual and spiritual center of gravity.”
“What that means is, Vincent, ain't nobody ready. Even with a good medical regimen that he uses now, he can get to the dark side of his personality, and farther into it, than anyone can dream. He also can go the other way … his capacity for joy, too, must be immense.”
Sgt. Trent smiled.
“Probably only Mrs. Lee knows about that … but he was radiant with joy Sunday in worship with all of us, and every now and again, even in the service, he would get on some stringed instrument and just take us all away with his improvisations … he can indeed get out into that realm. And … I remember us back before you had your diagnosis. The good days, then, were amazingly good.”
“They were, but because I didn't have a clue what was going on, I didn't have any kind of control,” Mrs. Trent said. “And, because Col. Lee has a high degree of control and also is on his medical regimen, whoever that was might survive although they may not enjoy surviving.”
“They won't,” Sgt. Trent said. “I remember being briefed about Col. Lee on the mission my unit worked with Special Forces on, with him as commander: 'Just understand: Col. Lee never bluffs. If he says such-and-so is going to happen, then unless God intervenes, count on it!'
A little bit later, Sgt. Trent got a phone call from a business associate adjacent to the Ludlow Bubbly for which the sergeant was the vice president, and found out what was going on. His wife saw him shaking his head when he got off the phone.
“People do not learn – but then it is kind of hard, because Col. Lee just let the sheriff's department get all of the credit on the latest – but anyhow, someone was trying to semi-legally tip off with some funds from the Lofton Trust, and Col. Lee is the newest trustee and blocked all of that up. That's why that person called to threaten Col. Lee.”
“And that's why if that person did not realize from Col. Lee's comeback that he had better get somewhere, sit down, and shut up with the quickness, he is going to have hot crow going down his gullet and coming back up with the quickness.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Sgt. Trent said. “And it's a shame, because, if you have a choice, why would you put yourself through that over a few dollars?”
“Some people think money is god,” Mrs. Trent said, “and sometimes, the punishment for idolatry is Col. Lee on a day when he is not in the patient mood he is today with Lil' Robert and Amanda in their antics.”