Monsanto's Gift To War

Smitty isn't Schulte. He doesn't drive a Cadillac and doesn't hit his wife often any more. Schulte, on the other hand, drives a Cadillac and hits his wife usually on weekends for no good reason. He's been doing that for more than 40 years ever since the boys came home from Viet Nam not knowing they had been touched by Agent Orange, Monsanto's gift to war. They had a double wedding with girls they liked in high school. Smitty says therapy has helped a little. He hasn't struck his second wife in years. But Schulte hasn't changed. The police have come again tonight, sirens blaring, gumball lights swirling. Two big officers, matched like bookends, march Schulte out in cuffs. He's cursing at his wife who's in a nightgown bawling on the porch as if Schulte's going back to Nam again. Smitty swears Schulte never left the paddies, that he's still knee-deep in water bright with Agent Orange, Monsanto's gift to war. Donal Mahoney