"What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

For all intents and purposes, he was a ghost. I had never expected to see him again. I figured he was on his way to Russia to break heads or on his way to a tropical island somewhere in the company of grass skirt-wearing women, who were thinner than I and with significantly bigger boobs. The thought made me well up. I had a knot in my throat. I couldn't have answered him if I tried.

In typical Brodie fashion, he ...