By the time Trevor got up
at quarter to nine on Tuesday morning, his mother and Franklin were gone. The teenager showered and dressed in blue
jeans and a Fire Department New York Station 83 t-shirt Captain Blain had given
him. He padded through the quiet apartment in his stocking feet as he headed to
the kitchen. He didn’t have to work today, but almost wished Nicole would have
reason to call him to come in. He had nothing to do and nowhere to go. His only
friend to speak of was Zach, but he knew Zach was scheduled to work from noon
to nine, so there was no point in trying to get together. Besides, the stuff
Zach was into could get a guy in trouble.
Trevor had recognized that fact since the night of the party, and had
limited his activities with Zach to meeting him at the movies, or in-line
skating with him at Central Park. There
was a part of Trevor that recognized his concerns about furthering his
friendship with Zach were a direct result of his father’s teachings, and then
there was a part of him that didn’t want to acknowledge that fact. Especially
not on this morning.
Trevor ate a bowl of
cereal while watching TV in the living room. On Tuesdays, Catherine had a play
date Malaya took her to, whatever the heck a play date was. Trevor knew he’d have the apartment to
himself until Deborah arrived at one. He set his empty bowl on the coffee table
and watched television until noon. In a
way, this act was in pure defiance of his father. TV viewing at home had been limited throughout Trevor’s growing
up years, and it was unheard of that he sat around doing nothing but watching
television on a sunny summer day.
Despite his thoughts of
defiance, the teenager paid little attention to what he was viewing. He reflected upon his conversation with his
father from the night before, and his anger burned hot. He had reached out to his father and had
been rebuffed. He had tried taking the first step toward making things right
between them, but had been pushed away.
Kinda like how I’ve been
pushing him away, were the thoughts that Trevor did his best
to ignore.
Trevor aimed the remote
control at the TV and shut it off. He
carried his cereal bowl to the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher, then went
to his bedroom. He put on a pair of tennis shoes, and grabbed his wallet and
apartment key off his dresser. Five minutes later, Trevor was standing on the
sidewalk in the warm July sun. He
headed for the crosswalk up the block, waited for the walk signal, then made
his way to Central Park. He had no idea
what he was going to do in the park, other than walk around for a while. He was bored, he was lonely, and he hated
living in New York. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to get used to the
latter. His father didn’t want him to come back home, so Trevor figured he had
no choice but to make the best of a situation that was going from bad to worse
with each passing day.
____________________
John Gage could make
little sense of where he was, or what was happening around him. When he’d tried to remove whatever it was
that was causing the discomfort in his throat, they’d restrained his arms. When
that had only made him fight harder, they’d given him something that had made
him sleep so heavily that when he woke up, he couldn’t tell if five minutes had
passed, or five days. He couldn’t
recall ever having felt so weak, and the last time he’d been this hot had been
so many years ago now that he could barely remember the incident. At least not at this moment. He knew it had something to do with an
animal and a virus, but that was as much as his muddled brain could
recall.
At some point, he
recognized Jennifer and Roy standing on either side of his bed. They were trying to explain something to
him, and then that word he’d heard several times recently, hantavirus, was said
again by Jennifer. But if Johnny had any knowledge of what the word meant, he
was too sick to recall it.
When Johnny could no
longer focus on Jennifer or Roy’s words, and when he could no longer keep his
eyes open, he felt Roy cover his captive right hand and give it a light
squeeze. He squeezed back, but he knew his grip was weak and he wondered if Roy
even felt it. As consciousness faded,
he wished he could give Roy a message. He wanted Roy to call Trevor for him. He
wanted Roy to tell Trevor that Papa loved him.
He didn’t care if Trevor thought ‘Papa’ was a name used only by little
kids. He didn’t care if Trevor had made
the decision to stay in New York with his mother. Johnny just wanted his boy to know how much he loved him. There
was a frightening sense of urgency surrounding that thought, as though if he
wasn’t able to tell Trevor that now, he might never get the opportunity to
again.
Johnny squeezed Roy’s hand
once more, but no matter how hard he tried, was unable to open his eyes. And even if he had been able to stay awake,
the tube in his throat would have prevented him from speaking, which meant he
had no way of asking Roy to convey his message to Trevor. As the sedative
pulled him under, Johnny could only hope Trevor knew how much his father
cherished him.
____________________
Trevor arrived back at the apartment at four-thirty that
afternoon. He could hear Deborah moving
around in the kitchen, but didn’t go in and say hello to her. Malaya and Catherine weren’t home. Trevor
had their routine memorized by now, so knew that they had come back to the
apartment shortly after he had left so Catherine could take a nap. After she woke up, she would have been given
a snack, and then they would have left the apartment again, this time headed
for one of the Central Park playgrounds.
They’d be home at six-thirty, because that’s when Deborah served supper.
Trevor had stayed in the
park most of the afternoon. He’d wandered
around the zoo, then sat on a bench and watched people as they walked by. He’d bought himself a hot dog and a Coke for
lunch, then an hour later, an ice cream cone for dessert. He thought a lot about his home in Eagle
Harbor, and everything he was missing about it. His friends, the small town atmosphere, living out amongst the
pine trees and mountains, his animals, the guys at the fire station, Clarice,
Carl, and Gus, and though he felt like a baby for admitting it to himself, he
missed his father most of all.
The teenager thought about
his future that afternoon, too. A
future that contained attendance at a snooty boarding school, and that meant
returning to this world of concrete and skyscrapers each time he was on a school
break. Would his dream of being a doctor in the Alaskan bush die before he ever
got the chance to pursue it? Would New
York change him to that degree? Or
would the opportunity pass him by the longer he lived away from Alaska? Gus had told him Alaska was in his blood, and
that he’d find out he wouldn’t be happy living anywhere else. Well, now Trevor
knew Gus was right, but if he couldn’t get back to Alaska until he was out of
medical school, would Alaska still be in his blood, or would his love of the
place he’d grown up in be gone? Trevor
couldn’t imagine that happening, but maybe it would. He’d be around
twenty-eight years old before all his schooling was completed. Thirteen years
was a long time to be away from the place and people you love.
Upon arriving at the apartment,
Trevor entered his bedroom and shut the door.
As long as he was at the dining room table at six-thirty, Deborah
wouldn’t bother him. He looked from the TV to the computer, trying to decide
which form of manufactured entertainment he wanted to partake in. Neither really interested him any longer,
but he decided to sit down at the desk and click on the Internet icon. He usually had several e-mails each day from
his friends in Eagle Harbor, and there was always one from Libby.
The teen got into Hotmail
and entered his user name and password. His inbox registered ten new messages.
He clicked on ‘Inbox’ and took note of the addresses that appeared. His eyes
started at the bottom of the list and worked up. He recognized Connor’s address, smiled when he spotted Kylee’s,
and saw that the twins, Dylan and Dalton Tierman, who were his neighbors and
still good friends, had each sent him a message. He saw messages from five
other school friends, and then frowned with puzzlement when he spotted the
address of the most recent message. Dr. Jennifer DeSoto.
He assumed Libby was using
her mother’s e-mail address for some reason, but was curious as to why, so he
opened that message first. By the time
recorded, he could see that it had arrived just a few minutes earlier.
~
~ ~
Trevor,
I’m
sending you this through Jennifer’s e-mail address at Rampart. Your father is very sick, and is in the
Intensive Care Unit here. Please call Jennifer or me as soon as you possibly
can.
Uncle Roy
~
~ ~
Trevor had to read the message twice to fully absorb the
meaning. It was vague, yet there was a
sense of urgency behind it that caused the boy’s stomach to clench. Several
spaces beneath his name, Uncle Roy had included his cell phone number, his home
phone number, Rampart hospital’s phone number, and home phone and cell phone
numbers for Jennifer.
In his haste to get to the
phone, Trevor tipped over his chair. He
crossed the room in four strides and picked up the receiver. He looked at the computer and dialed the first
number Roy had listed – the one for his cell phone.
The phone was answered on
the third ring. Trevor felt like his heart was in his throat when he said in a
rush of words, “Uncle Roy, it’s Trevor. What’s wrong with my pops?”
____________________
For the first time in his
life, Trevor Gage had to make some major decisions without the input of his
father. As soon as he broke the phone connection with Roy, he dialed
information. He asked for the number of the United Airlines desk at LaGuardia
Airport, and then waited while he was automatically connected. Thanks to the
credit card his mother had given him when he’d first arrived, within ten
minutes Trevor had a non-stop flight booked to L.A. He called Roy back and told him he’d be arriving at LAX at nine
forty-five that night, California time.
Roy didn’t question Trevor
as to how he’d gotten this accomplished so quickly. He assumed either Trevor’s
mother or stepfather was at home and assisting him with the arrangements, and
Trevor had no reason to tell him otherwise.
When he hung up from his
most recent phone call, Trevor sat down at his desk and furiously pecked at the
keyboard in order to send an e-mail to his mother.
~
~ ~
Mom,
Pops is
sick and in the Intensive Care Unit at Rampart. I’m not sure what’s wrong, but Uncle Roy said Pops has a virus of
some sort, and that it’s serious, and that he’d explain it to me when he sees
me. I’m leaving for L.A. in a little while. I booked a flight using the credit
card you gave me. You can take the money out of my savings account in order to
pay the bill.
I’m not
sure if I’ll be coming back to New York or not. It depends on if Pops needs me,
and if he wants me to stay. If I don’t
come back here to live, thanks for everything.
I love you.
Trevor
~ ~ ~
Trevor typed Roy’s home
phone number and cell phone number beneath his name in the event his mother
wanted to get in touch with him, then sent the e-mail and signed out of
Hotmail. He grabbed his suitcase from beneath the bed and started emptying his
dresser drawers and closet. His mother had purchased so many clothes for him
since he’d arrived that he could never fit all of them in the suitcase, which
mattered little to the teen. Not for the first time since arriving in New York
was Trevor discovering that new clothes, his own TV, DVD player, computer, and
credit card, meant little to him. He
didn’t care what his mother did with the clothes he left behind, many of which
he’d never even worn. She could return
them and get her money back, give them to Goodwill, pack them up and send them
to him at a later date, or throw them in the garbage for all he cared.
The teen rushed into the
bathroom across the hall and scooped up his toiletries. He deposited them in an
inside zippered compartment of his suitcase, then looked around the bedroom to
make certain he wasn’t leaving anything behind that he wanted to take with him.
When Trevor was satisfied
he had everything of importance, and when his suitcase would hold no more
clothes, he shut it and pressed in the buttons that would secure the latches.
He picked up the phone and called the doorman on duty. He requested that a taxi be summoned for him
while he opened the drawer to his nightstand, grabbed a pen, and tore a piece
of paper from a notebook. When he hung up the phone Trevor wrote a note to
Malaya. He told her his father was ill
and he’d left for Los Angeles. He also
told her he’d contacted his mother about the situation, and asked her to tell
Catherine goodbye for him. He tore a piece of Scotch tape from a roll that was
in the nightstand drawer and ran down the hall to Malaya’s room. He secured the note to her door, ran back
to his room, and grabbed his suitcase. As long as Malaya knew why he’d suddenly
disappeared, and that he’d told his mother he was leaving, she wouldn’t care
one way or the other where he was.
Trevor popped his head in
the kitchen as he headed for the front door.
As was normal for this time of day, he found Deborah on the phone, talking
to whom, he wasn’t certain, while she prepared the supper. She gave Trevor a curt nod when he said,
“Deborah, I’ve gotta go. I left Malaya
a note explaining where I’ll be,” and then returned to her conversation. Trevor knew Deborah wouldn’t care one way or
another where he was either. First of
all, she wasn’t the nanny, and second of all, now she’d have one less person
she’d have to cook for.
Trevor rode the elevator
to the lobby. The doorman had done his
job and had hailed a cab for Trevor. The teenager tipped the man as he hurried
past him.
Trevor had three stops to
make before going to LaGuardia. The
first stop was at his bank, where he went to the ATM and withdrew five hundred
dollars from his savings account. The next stop was at the Gap. Trevor was glad
Zach was busy with a customer. He
didn’t have time to talk to his friend right now. He spotted Nicole folding
sweaters in front of a shelving unit and hurried over to her.
“Nicole—“
The girl turned around and
smiled when she saw who had called her name. “Hi, Trev. What are you--”
“Listen, Nicole, I’m
really sorry to do this to you on such short notice, but I’ve gotta quit.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, but I just
found out my father’s really sick. I’m
leaving for L.A. in a little while.”
“But I thought your father
lived in Alaska.”
“He does. He’s visiting
friends of ours in California.” Trevor glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I
gotta go. I don’t wanna miss my flight. Thanks for everything, Nicole.”
“You’re welcome. If you come back to live here again after
things...calm down, come see me. You’ve been a terrific employee. I’d hire you back in a second.”
“Thanks, Nicole. I
appreciate it. Bye.”
“Bye, Trev.”
Trevor rushed out the
door, giving Zach only a wave when the teen caught his eye. He knew Nicole would explain everything to
him later. Trevor didn’t have the time to wait around until Zach’s customer was
gone.
The last stop Trevor had
the cabdriver make was at Station 83.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Trevor
said to the man as he hopped out of the back seat and ran for the engine
bay. He saw the engine was gone,
meaning Captain Blain wasn’t there, if he was even on duty today. Trevor caught sight of the two paramedics
who had helped him the night he was mugged, sitting at the kitchen table. They
looked up as he ran in.
“Hi, Trevor.”
“Hey, Trev.”
“Hi. Captain Blain’s not
here, is he?”
“No, the engine’s out on a
run.”
Trevor thought a moment,
and then asked, “If I leave him a note would you guys give it to him?”
“Sure,” one of the young
men said while the other nodded and asked,
“Need a piece of paper and a pen?”
“Yeah.”
Trevor was handed the
small notebook and pen most paramedics carried in a shirt pocket. He leaned over the table, using it as a hard
surface to write on.
~
~ ~
Captain Blain, my father
is really sick and in the hospital. I’m
leaving tonight to see him. If I don’t come back, I want to say thank you for
all you’ve done for me, and for letting me hang around the station. Because of you, I’ve missed Alaska, and my
father, a little bit less.
Thanks,
Trevor
~
~ ~
Trevor folded the note and
wrote ‘Captain Blain’ on the outside of it. He handed the note to one of the paramedics,
while returning the notebook and pen to the other.
“Thanks, guys.”
“You’re welcome.”
“See ya’, Trev.”
“Bye, kid.”
Trevor didn’t take the
time to tell the men this might be the last time he’d see them. He figured Captain Blain could do that after
he read the note.
“Bye. And thanks again for
helping me the night I got mugged.”
“Sure, kid,” and “No
problem, Trev,” were the last things Trevor heard as he raced for the cab that
would take him to the airport.
Roy glanced at his
watch. It was nine thirty-five, meaning Trevor’s flight was due to arrive in
ten minutes. Roy stood in the waiting
area of the terminal where the passengers on Trevor’s plane were due to
disembark. Roy had left Rampart at five-thirty with Libby. They’d stopped and bought a bucket of
Kentucky Fried Chicken to take home for dinner, along with mashed potatoes,
gravy, and coleslaw. Joanne had just
arrived home from work when Libby pulled her Neon into her grandparents’
driveway.
Roy had talked to
his wife that afternoon and filled her in on all that had transpired, and then
called Chris to do the same, as well as cancel that night’s scheduled cook-out.
He’d gotten a hold of Charlie Dwyer as well, briefly explained the situation
that had occurred, and canceled Wednesday’s lunch. He didn’t have to call Kelly
Brackett about Thursday’s lunch plans.
The doctor was Rampart’s administrator, and word that John Gage had been
hospitalized had reached him. Doctor Brackett had come to ICU that afternoon to
see Johnny and talk to Jennifer. Roy knew the man would contact Dixie, or she’d
find out the next day when she reported for work. She was seventy-seven now, but still a strong presence in the
emergency room on the two days a week she worked.
For the time
being, Roy didn’t attempt to get in touch with any of the guys about Saturday’s
picnic. He decided that could wait at least one more day until he was able to
tell them something more definite about Johnny’s condition.
Because Jennifer
wasn’t sure what time she’d leave Rampart, she requested that Libby spend the
night at Roy and Joanne’s. After
supper, Libby helped her grandmother change the sheets on the bed Johnny had
been sleeping in so the room would be ready for Trevor, while Roy called
Jennifer to get an update on Johnny before he left for the airport. The news he
received wasn’t good.
Keeping Johnny
stabilized was becoming increasingly difficult. The test results had proven Johnny
had HPS. Jennifer had told Roy that for those patients who don’t survive the
virus, pulmonary edema as a result of irreversible injury to the heart was
generally the cause of death. If there
was any good news, it was that the fifty percent of patients who did survive
hantavirus almost always recovered as quickly as they had fallen ill, and
rarely with any adverse long-term effects. Further good news came as a result
of Mike Morton recognizing the HPS symptoms and correctly diagnosing the virus
in Johnny so quickly, which again meant recovery from the illness, would likely
be rapid. Now, however, it was a matter of waiting to see which side of those
fifty-fifty odds Johnny landed on. Which, of course, was far easier said than
done for the man who had been Johnny’s partner all those years at Station 51,
and who had remained Johnny’s friend long after that partnership had come to an
end.
Roy looked out the
big picture window and observed Trevor’s plane taxing to the concourse. Trevor
was the first person to stride down the corridor, and just by watching him
walk, Roy was taken back to the first time he’d met Johnny thirty-six years
earlier. Roy hadn’t seen Trevor since
the previous summer, and though he’d always recognized that Trevor looked like
Johnny, the resemblance was even more obvious now that Trevor was rapidly
approaching adulthood. Tall and lanky,
dark headed with brown eyes. His loose stride was the same loose stride Johnny
had possessed as a young man, and when the teenager put his arms around the man
who was his father’s closest friend and said, “Hi, Uncle Roy. Thanks for coming
to pick me up,” Roy could tell the boy’s voice had changed since last summer,
too, and now he sounded just like a young John Gage.
Roy patted Trevor
on the back. He thought of this young man as a grandson, maybe even more than
he normally would have because he had no living grandsons of his own. Despite the problems Trevor had been giving
Johnny, Roy was proud of the way the teen had done the right thing and come to
be by his father’s side as soon as he possibly could. He was even prouder when,
as they walked to the baggage claim, Trevor told Roy how he’d made the
arrangements himself since his mother and stepfather were in Paris.
“I e-mailed my
mom, though, so she knows where I am. And I gave her your home phone number,
and your cell phone, so she might call. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s
okay,” Roy said. “That was good
thinking on your part.”
“It didn’t feel
like I was thinking. I just...I just did what I had to do so I could get out
here as quick as I could.”
“You did fine,
Trev,” Roy assured. “A lot of kids your age wouldn’t have known where to begin
when it comes to making their own travel arrangements.”
Roy saw the fear
in Trevor’s eyes when the boy asked, “How...how is he?”
Roy wasn’t going
to lie to Trevor, and besides, Johnny’s son was too old now for Roy to
sugarcoat the situation. He placed an arm around Trevor’s shoulders as they
continued walking toward the baggage claim.
“He’s having a
rough time of it. The doctors are having challenges getting him stabilized.”
Trevor stopped and
turned so he was facing Roy. He ignored the people who had to walk around them,
not noticing they were blocking the center of the corridor.
“Stabilized
how?”
“This virus causes
fluid...plasma specifically, to leak from the capillaries and into the lungs’
air sacs. That action places a lot of stress on the heart. In addition to those
issues, your father’s blood pressure dropped dangerously low several times today. He’s on intravenous medication in an attempt
to combat that, but it hasn’t been as successful as the doctors hoped it would
be. They may have to change the medication, which could be a positive or a
negative depending on how Johnny reacts to it.”
“But can’t they
give him something? You know, like a shot of penicillin or some other
antibiotic? He gets bronchitis really
bad every winter, and sometimes that turns into pneumonia. He’s even been put
in the hospital for it a couple of times, but antibiotics always clear it up.”
“I know,” Roy
nodded, aware that Johnny had grown especially susceptible to bronchitis and
pneumonia as he’d gotten older, “but antibiotics don’t work on viruses, and
there aren’t any other medications available at this time to fight HPS. All the
doctors can do is provide what’s referred to as ‘aggressive supportive
measures.’”
“And that means
what?”
“It means that
they try to stop everything that’s going wrong in an effort to help your father
gain strength so his body can fight this invader.”
“Will what they’re
doing work?”
“In approximately
fifty percent of the cases it does. And when supportive measures do work,
Jennifer says the patient usually recovers very rapidly, to the point that within
two or three days he can often be sent home from the hospital.”
“But only fifty
percent of people who get this virus live?”
“Yes,” Roy quietly
acknowledged. He could have predicted what Trevor was going to say next. The
boy’s face paled and his voice was so soft Roy could barely hear him.
“Those...those
aren’t very good odds.”
“No, they’re not,”
Roy agreed. “But if anyone can beat them, it will be your father.”
“But you can’t
promise me that, can you?”
As much as Roy
hated to say it, he forced himself to respond to the teenager.
“No, Trev, I’m
sorry,” Roy said as he lifted a hand and gave the boy’s shoulder a light
squeeze. “I can’t promise you that.”
“That’s what I
thought.”
Trevor turned and
started walking again. “Come on. Let’s get my suitcase and go to the hospital.
I wanna see my pops.”
Roy was again
reminded of Johnny, since he had to rush to keep up with the young man and his
long strides. His original intention
had been to suggest they return to his house, where Trevor could get some rest,
then go to the hospital after breakfast the next morning. But by the set of
Trevor’s shoulders, and the determination on his face, Roy knew better than to
argue with the boy. He’d learned long
ago not waste his breath when Trevor’s father had that same stubborn set to his
shoulders, and that same firm look of determination on his face. Roy couldn’t help but smile slightly as he
watched the boy grab his luggage from the carousel without ever breaking his
stride for the double doors at the far end of the corridor.
Trevor, as much
as you might not want to hear this given your recent arguments with your
father, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, kiddo. You can believe your old
Uncle Roy when he tells you, the apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree.
Just by looking at
Trevor, Jennifer could tell he was exhausted. Of course, his internal clock was
currently three hours ahead of Pacific Time, meaning it was well after one in
the morning in New York. Nonetheless, Jennifer didn’t suggest the teenager
forego a visit with his father until after he’d gotten some sleep. Like her
father, Jennifer knew arguing with Trevor would be a lost cause. He was too much like Uncle Johnny, though
she imagined it would be a few more years yet before he recognized that fact.
Or, at least, willingly recognized it.
Because Roy had
done a good job of explaining to Trevor what Johnny’s current condition was,
and because on the drive to Rampart he’d explained to the teenager what
hantavirus was and how Johnny had likely come into contact with it, Jennifer
didn’t waste time going over all these things again. Instead, she took a few minutes to prepare Trevor for what to
expect when he saw his father. Trevor nodded as Jennifer told him about the
ventilator, IVs, monitors, and cooling blanket. She knew Trevor was an intelligent young man, and under normal
circumstances, would readily understand the purpose of all the equipment. But
Jennifer could tell that, as a result of his weariness and anxiety, the
teenager was only half listening to her as he continued to glance toward the
double doors that would take him to the ICU.
“He drifts in and
out of consciousness,” Jennifer said next, “but even when he looks like he’s
sleeping, it’s quite possible that he can hear what we’re saying. That’s why
it’s important that you take the opportunity to speak with him when you’re in
the room. He’ll want to know you’re here, Trevor. It might even help him find
the will he needs to fight this virus.”
“Okay,” Trevor
nodded.
“He’s got a
bandage on his forehead. I don’t know if my dad told you, but your father
evidently grew dizzy and fell. When that happened, Dad thinks Uncle Johnny
struck his head against the kitchen table. We’ve done a CAT scan of his head,
and taken x-rays of his neck. Everything looks fine.”
“His neck?” Trevor
questioned.
“He took a tumble
into Dad’s pool, as well. The CAT and
x-rays were more of a precaution than anything else. I couldn’t find any
serious injuries as a result of the falls, but I wanted to make certain, of
course.”
“How did he fall
in Uncle Roy’s pool?” the teenager questioned, more confused now by this odd
situation than he already had been.
“I’ll explain it
to you on the drive home,” Roy promised. He smiled slightly as he added,
“Suffice to say, your father never does anything the easy way.”
Trevor was
satisfied with Roy’s promise, so returned his attention to Jennifer when she
spoke again.
“We have your father
restrained, so don’t let that alarm you.”
“Restrained?”
“Because of the
high temperature he’s running, he doesn’t always know where he is or what he’s
doing. I had to order restraints for his wrists to keep him from pulling out his
IVs and the breathing tube.”
Trevor didn’t like
the thought of his father being treated like that, a fact Jennifer could easily
discern just by looking at his face.
“I didn’t want to
have to do that to him either, Trev, but I had no choice. It’s for his own good. We can’t have him
fighting the things that are put in place to help him. If his temperature drops to the point that
he’s more lucid, I’ll remove the restraints.”
“All right,”
Trevor reluctantly agreed. “That’s okay, I guess.”
“Are you ready to see your
father now?”
There was no
hesitation when the boy responded with, “Yeah.”
Jennifer led the
way through the double doors with Trevor and her father following her. Johnny’s room was the third one on the left,
directly across from the nurses’ station. Trevor paused for a moment in the
doorway as he saw his father for the first time since leaving Alaska in early
June. The physical changes the boy had to absorb were profound. His father’s
pallor was a waxy gray. Weight loss and illness made the bone structure in his
father’s face sharp and prominent, and made his bare shoulders look scrawny and
knobby.
Trevor’s voice was
barely above a whisper when he asked, “Did he lose all that weight just in the
past few days?”
“Some of it,”
Jennifer answered. “But in my opinion he was already too thin before he got
ill.”
Although there
wasn’t a hint of accusation in Jennifer’s tone, Trevor came to his own
conclusion.
I did this to
him. It’s my fault. He...he...was he so upset ‘cause I was gone that he wasn’t
eating like he should have been.
Now Trevor knew
what it felt like to be responsible for another person, and as a result of your
actions, discover that you’d fallen woefully short where those responsibilities
are concerned.
Trevor didn’t ask
for Jennifer’s permission as he approached his father’s bedside. The ventilator was on the opposite side from
the boy, but he had to be careful not to jostle any monitors as he wormed his
way to the bed railing. His father was under a cooling blanket, and without
having to ask, Trevor knew the man was naked. While Trevor understood the need
for this from both a medical standpoint and comfort standpoint, he hated to see
his father vulnerable like this. He hated to see the man he’d always thought of
as so strong and indestructible, reduced to this person Trevor barely
recognized, who was dependant on others for his every need.
Trevor looked at
the hanging IV bags that held a variety of medications, including an antiviral
medication known as Ribavirin. Jennifer had said that there had been some
success using this drug in Asia against various strains of HPS. Unfortunately, those strains weren’t the
same as what was found in the U.S., but the Centers for Disease Control recommended
trying it if the doctor felt, given all other factors and the patient’s medical
history, it was safe to do so. Jennifer
had told Trevor not to get his hopes up surrounding this drug though, and like
her father, said that supportive measures were really the best thing they could
offer at the moment.
The teenager heard
the ventilator assisting his father in getting air. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to die as a result of
your own body drowning you, which was what was happening as a result of his father’s
lungs filling with fluid. And, in the
end, if HPS killed Trevor’s father, it would be a toss up as to how the man
died. It could come from either
respiratory failure, or from shock and heart failure. In the end, it didn’t matter much, because Trevor knew you needed
your to heart pump, and your lungs to fill with air. One working without the
other just didn’t cut it.
Trevor bent over
the bed railing and placed a kiss on Johnny’s feverish forehead, while rubbing
a gentle hand over the man’s bare shoulder.
He couldn’t stop the silent tears that ran down his face as he recalled
Clarice’s words from two months earlier.
And, before you know it things will change again, and the man who loved you and raised you won’t be here to come home to anymore. When that happens, you’ll wish with all your heart that you had the opportunity to call him papa one more time.
It took more
strength than Trevor thought he had in order to speak. The lump in his throat
was enormous, and he didn’t want Roy and Jennifer to know he was crying. But then the raw fear hit when he realized
how true Clarice’s words might be. How those words might turn out to be a
predictor of something that was going to come to pass long before Trevor was a
grown man, and long before he was ready for that event to happen.
The teenager straightened so he was standing
over his father. He ran a hand through
Johnny’s hair, in the same way Johnny had done to him so many times throughout
his childhood when Trevor was sick, or had woken from a bad dream, or even just
when they were sharing quiet time together right before Trevor would fall
asleep.
“Pa...Papa, I’m
here,” the boy said in a choked voice.
He swiped an arm across his eyes, swallowed hard, and tried again with
more volume. “I’m here, Papa. I flew in from New York and Uncle Roy brought me
right here. You...you have to get
better, Papa, so we can go home together to Eagle Harbor. I don’t wanna live
with Mom anymore. I...I haven’t wanted
to live with her for quite a while now.
I...I knew I had made a mistake not long after I got there. I...I’m so
sorry. I know...I know I hurt you a lot and...and I’m just so sorry. I just
want you to get better, Papa. You have to get better, please. I need you. I need you, Papa.”
Trevor’s tears
stared in earnest again and he buried his face in the crook between his
father’s neck and shoulder. His own shoulders shook with the force of his sobs.
The young man was allowed the next few minutes like this with his father, and
then he felt two hands on his upper arms that urged him to stand.
“Come on, Trev,”
Roy said quietly, “let me take you to my house. You can get some sleep, and
then we’ll come back in the morning.”
The comfort he was
seeking from a father’s embrace the teenager received from Roy DeSoto.
“It’s my fault,
Uncle Roy,” the boy mumbled into Roy’s shoulder. “It’s all my fault.”
Roy patted Trevor
on the back. “No, Trev, it’s not your fault.
There’s nothing you could have done to prevent what’s happened to your
father.”
“But if I hadn’t
left...if I hadn’t gone to live in New York, then he wouldn’t have taken extra
vacation time and gone to Chet’s. I know he went ‘cause I wasn’t home. ‘Cause
he was upset because I was gone. He didn’t tell me that, but I knew. He never
would have gone it if hadn’t been for me and what I did to him.”
“Trev, you don’t
know that for sure. He might have gone
to Chet’s even if you had been living at home, and if so, he would have taken
you with him. If that had been the
case, and you had gotten sick too, how do you think that would make your father
feel? Do you think that’s what he’d want?”
“No, but—“
“Enough,” Roy
commanded with a sternness he hadn’t used on a teenager since the days of
raising his own three kids. “Enough
now. I’ve known your father for more than twice as long as you’ve been on this
earth, and if there’s one thing I can tell you without a doubt, it’s that in
this situation there are no buts. Your father wouldn’t want you to be sick,
Trevor. He doesn’t care that you went
to New York. All he cares about is that you’re with him right now, and that’s
what you’re gonna have to remember over the next few days as we all try our
best to help him get through this.”
Trevor pulled away
from Roy, glanced over his shoulder at Johnny, then turned and looked Roy in
the eye. “But what if he dies?”
“Then he’ll die
knowing his son loved him and was with him until the very end.”
Trevor didn’t like
hearing what Roy said, but he acknowledged the truth behind the paramedic
chief’s words with a nod of his head.
He’d taken the first step toward becoming a man when he’d made
arrangements to leave New York as soon as he’d found out his father was ill.
He’d taken the second step toward becoming a man when he’d told his father he
was sorry for hurting him. Now he had to take the third step. The step where
you saw something through that might tear your heart out by the time it reached
its conclusion, rather than take the easy way out and run from the pain.
The teenager
turned to face his father once again. He reached down and took Johnny’s hand in
his and gave it a light squeeze. He
kissed his father’s cheek and said, “Papa, I’m going to Uncle Roy’s now to get
some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning. I love you.”
If Trevor hadn’t
been holding his father’s hand, he wouldn’t have realized there was an
acknowledgement to his words. He felt a barely perceptible squeeze, and knew it
meant that Johnny had heard everything he’d said. He squeezed again, felt a
tiny squeeze back, and then reluctantly broke contact with his father as Roy
placed a hand on Trevor’s back and urged him from the room.
Trevor looked over
his shoulder one last time. “I’ll be back in the morning, Papa.”
The teenager saw a
tear trickle out of the corner of his father’s left eye. Whether that was a voluntary action, or an
involuntary one, Trevor didn’t know. Regardless of the source, it caused Trevor
to get choked up again. He quickly
turned and followed Jennifer and Roy out the doorway. He had to be strong for
his father now, so if Trevor cried again tonight he’d do so alone, and behind
the closed door of the guestroom at Roy DeSoto’s house.
Joanne and Libby
were waiting up when Trevor and Roy arrived at eleven-thirty that night. Joanne could tell the hug she gave the boy
brought him to the verge of tears. The only thing she said when she kissed his
forehead and then released him was, “Sit down at the table, Trevor. I’ll get you
something to eat.”
“I’m not very
hungry. Besides, it’s late. Everyone
probably wants to go to bed.”
“Not before you’ve
had supper,” Roy insisted as he helped his wife pull left over chicken,
potatoes and coleslaw from the refrigerator.
Libby got a glass from a cabinet and poured milk in it for her friend.
Joanne heated the
potatoes, gravy and chicken in the microwave, while Roy put the coleslaw in a
bowl. To Trevor, it felt like it had been years since people who cared about
him had pampered him, when in reality, it had only been since early June when
he’d left his father’s home. Being at
the DeSotos’ for just this few minutes, reminded the teenager of what family
life was all about. And, it also made him aware once again, that it wasn’t
about a TV in your bedroom, an around-the-clock nanny, a maid, and parents who
were never home.
Roy and Libby
joined Trevor at the table, while Joanne put a plate of cookies in the center
and poured lemonade for herself, her husband, and granddaughter.
“I thought I was
supposed to be losing weight,” Roy teased his wife as he reached for an oatmeal
cookie.
Joanne swatted his
shoulder as she sat down next to him. “You’re always supposed to be losing
weight, but since you don’t work too hard it, a late night snack isn’t going to
make much difference one way or another.”
“I’ve been waiting
ten years to hear you say that.” Roy
looked at Libby and Trevor. “Kids, you heard her. No more diet for Grandpa.”
Trevor and Libby
exchanged smiles at this long-running joke.
And once again, it felt good to Trevor to be amongst people who loved
him and knew him in a way his mother didn’t, and probably never would.
“How’s Uncle
Johnny?” Libby asked when Trevor had finished his meal and reached for a
cookie.
Roy was aware of
Trevor’s eyes on him as he gave his granddaughter a reassuring smile. “He’s
still having a rough time of things, but he’s holding his own. Your mom is
going to stay at the hospital tonight in the event she’s needed.”
“She doesn’t have
to do that,” Trevor said. “I...I appreciate it, but I know she’s been on duty
since this morning. She could have gone
home and let another doctor take care of Papa.”
“Yes, she could
have,” Roy agreed. “But do you really think she would?”
Trevor was aware
of the long history his father had with the DeSoto family, including the time
he’d kept Jennifer safe from a deranged man when she was nine-years-old. Not to mention having kept Libby safe from
the same man seven years earlier.
“No, I guess not.”
“You’re right
where that’s concerned. Don’t worry about Jennifer. She can sleep at the hospital, and as soon as your father shows
signs of improvement she’ll go home.”
“So you think he
will? Show signs of improvement, I
mean?”
Roy regretted the
hope he’d just given the boy, because at this point he had no answers one way
or another. “I hope he will, Trevor,
but I can’t make you any promises. You understand that, don’t you?”
Trevor’s eyes
dropped to his plate. He left the cookie there untouched as he nodded. “Yeah. I
understand.”
When Joanne could
see Trevor had no appetite for dessert, she urged everyone to call it a
night.
“Libby, you’d
better get to bed. Like me, you have to work tomorrow. Trevor, the guestroom is
ready for you, hon. You should go to bed, too.
Uncle Roy said the two of you are going to the hospital right after
breakfast.”
Trevor didn’t
argue with the woman. He was exhausted, and like the DeSoto family, ready to go
to bed. He started to carry his dishes
to the dishwasher, only to have Joanne take them from him.
“I’ll do
that. You go on to bed.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re
welcome. You know where everything is,
I think, but if you can’t find something, just let one of us know.”
“Okay.” The teenager looked at Roy. “If Jennifer
calls, you’ll—“
Roy nodded. “Yes.
If Jennifer calls during the night I’ll wake you up.”
“Thanks.”
Trevor picked up
his suitcase and followed Libby down the hall that led to the bedrooms. While
he’d be staying in the guestroom, Libby would be staying in her Uncle Chris’s
old room.
Joanne put an arm
around Roy once she heard the guestroom door close. She leaned into his shoulder and said, “He’s really gotten tall
since we last saw him. He looks so much
like Johnny did when you first starting work with him.”
“I know. I thought
the same thing when I picked him up at the airport tonight.”
“How’s Trevor
doing with all of this?”
“Well, he’s
worried, that’s for certain. And he’s blaming himself, which I suspected he
might.” Roy kissed the top of his
wife’s head as he reached over to shut out the kitchen light. “For Trevor’s
sake, I hope Johnny pulls through, because if he doesn’t, I have a feeling that
young man will blame himself for of this for the rest of his life.”
“Johnny wouldn’t
want that.”
“No, Jo, he
wouldn’t. But Trevor needs to hear that
from Johnny. Hearing it from you, or
me, or Jennifer, or anyone else, isn’t going to change his mind. There are just
some things a boy needs to hear from his father, and this is definitely one of
them.”
Joanne couldn’t disagree
with her husband on that issue. The two of them walked hand in hand to their
bedroom at the end of the hall, both praying that the telephone wouldn’t ring
during the night.
The pride Roy felt
regarding Trevor the previous day rose to an even higher level on
Wednesday. Whether sleep had given
Trevor the strength he needed, or whether he’d woken with a new resolve, Roy
wasn’t certain. All he knew was the
teary eyed boy of the evening before had been replaced by a young man determined
to help his father in any way he could.
Jennifer met Roy
and Trevor in the waiting area outside the ICU when they arrived at Rampart at
nine that morning. All she could report was that Johnny was no better, but he
was no worse either. Upon hearing those
words, Roy had a feeling they were in for a long day.
Jennifer left to
shower, change her clothes, and get some breakfast in the cafeteria. She promised her father and Trevor she’d
return within the hour, and at that time would take them in to see Johnny.
After Jennifer had
turned to head for the doctors’ locker room, Roy was taken back a bit when
Trevor said, “Uncle Roy, I think you’d better go ahead and call the guys and
cancel Saturday’s picnic like you were talking about doing last night.”
It wasn’t that
Trevor didn’t have the right idea. It was just that Roy wasn’t prepared for the
teen to take charge in quite this manner.
He smiled slightly as he agreed, “You’re right. I’ll do that now.”
“And I’m going to
call my grandpa.”
“Would like me
to?”
“No,” Trevor shook
his head as he punched his grandfather’s number in on Johnny’s cell phone. “I can do it. Then I’ll call Carl and
Clarice, too.”
“Okay,” Roy
agreed, allowing Trevor to handle this as he saw fit.
Roy admired Trevor
for the way he gently broke the news to his grandfather. The man was only two
months short of turning eight-five, and long distance travel was getting more
and more difficult for him due to a bad back and arthritic knees from his years
of physical labor on his ranch. Trevor
remained as upbeat and positive as he could while he talked to his
grandfather. Knowing that sitting in a
car or on an airplane for any length of time caused the man a good deal of
pain, made Trevor assure, “No, Grandpa, you and Grandma Marietta don’t need to
be here. Papa will be...he’ll be okay.
He’s pretty sick right now, but Jennifer and the other doctors are doing all
they can to help him.”
Roy heard Trevor tell Chad
Gage that he was fine, and that he was staying with Roy and Joanne. Then the teenager promised his grandfather
he’d call back that evening with an update on Johnny’s condition. When Trevor said goodbye and broke the
connection he looked at Roy and said quietly, “He doesn’t know.”
“Pardon?”
“I could tell by some
things he said, that Grandpa doesn’t know I’ve been living with my mom since
June. He thought I was out where with
Papa on vacation this week. I...I guess I should have told him the truth, but I
didn’t. I let him...I let him go on thinking that was the situation.”
“Don’t worry about
it, Trev. You didn’t do anything wrong. Given your grandfather’s age, and the
news you just had to tell him about your father, it’s probably best that the
rest was left unsaid.”
“But I can’t
believe Papa didn’t tell him what was going on.”
Roy smiled. “Just like a fifteen-year-old boy doesn’t
always tell his father everything, a sixty-year-old man doesn’t always tell his
father everything either.”
“ ‘Cause Papa
thought Grandpa would lecture him?”
“I don’t know,”
Roy shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe he just didn’t want your grandfather’s opinion
on the matter. I’ve come to learn that
once a man has raised his own kids to adulthood, it’s pretty tempting to offer
advice to someone who is still going through the process of raising a child.
There were a number of times when I didn’t appreciate the opinions of outsiders
when Chris, Jennifer, and John were growing up, so I’m sure your father feels
the same way. And, some things are
simply private – not always meant to be shared with your father - no matter how
old you get.”
“I suppose,”
Trevor agreed. “Or maybe Pops was protecting me. You know, wanting Grandpa to
still think well of me.”
“I’m sure that had
something to do with it, too.”
“I don’t deserve
that.”
“Trevor...”
The boy waved the
warning he heard aside. “I know, I know.
There’s no point in me placing blame on myself.”
Though Roy could
tell Trevor didn’t mean the words he spoke, he let the subject drop as the
teenager keyed in Carl and Clarice’s home phone number. The conversation that
ensued was similar to the one Trevor had just had with his grandfather. He told
Carl and Clarice of the situation, though was more forthright about how ill
Johnny was than he had been with Chad, and then assured them he was fine and had
a place to stay for as long as necessary at the DeSoto home. As he’d done with his grandfather, Trevor
promised Carl and Clarice he’d call with an update that evening.
As Trevor was
saying goodbye to Carl and Clarice, Roy called Marco’s restaurant. When an
employee of the man’s finally got him to the phone, Roy took a few minutes to
explain what was going on.
“So it’s really
serious?” Marco asked.
“Yeah, it’s
serious.”
“All right. Well, listen, Roy, don’t worry about calling
the other guys. I’ll take care of it as
soon as I get off the phone with you.”
“Thanks, Marco.”
“And when Johnny’s
better, if getting everyone together for a picnic at your place doesn’t work
out, then we’ll get together here at my restaurant before Johnny and Trevor have
to fly home.”
If there was one
thing Roy could always count on with Marco, it was a positive outlook.
“All right,” Roy
agreed, knowing how busy everyone was on summer weekends, meaning it might now
be impossible for all the former A-shift members to get together in the near
future. “We can leave the possibility open, if nothing else.”
“Call me tonight
and let me know how Johnny’s doing.”
“I will.”
“And tell Trevor
his father’s too tough to give into a virus.
We know that from experience.”
Roy smiled a
little in memory. “Yeah, I guess we do.
Okay, I’ll tell him. Bye, Marco. And thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.”
When the
connection was broken Roy sat down on the couch and held up his cell phone.
“This will ring within the next fifteen minutes, and it’ll be Chet Kelly.”
“How do you know
that?” Trevor asked as he sat next to the paramedic chief.
“Because I know
Chet.”
By Roy’s watch, it
took exactly nine minutes for Chet’s phone call to come in. Roy smiled at
Trevor as he said, “Hello?”
“Roy, what the
hell is this Marco was tellin’ me about Johnny catching some virus at my
house?”
“Chet, calm down.”
“Look, my house
isn’t infected with anything, and you make sure and tell Jennifer that.”
“You’re right,
your house probably isn’t infected, because Johnny was the one who cleaned it
and got sick. But, if I were you, I’d hire a professional cleaning service to
go through the place before you and the boys go up there in August. And make sure you tell whoever you hire that
it’s important they wear masks and rubber gloves.”
“All right, if you
say so. But what the hell is this virus?
Marco said something about Johnny catching it from a mouse?”
Roy took the time
to explain to Chet what hantavirus was, how Johnny likely caught it, and what
effects it had on the human body.
“Johnny’s that
sick?”
“Yes, Chet, he’s
that sick.”
“Can I see him?”
“Not today.
Jennifer’s allowing only Trevor and me to see Johnny for the time being.”
“But—“
“Chet, he won’t
even know you’re here, so for now it’s best if you don’t stop by.”
“You said Trevor
was there?”
“Yeah. He flew in
last night. He’ll stay with Joanne and me until...he’ll be staying with us.”
“Good. That’s
good. Johnny would want him there.”
“I know.”
“Well, tell Trevor
I said his old man’s a scrapper. Tell
him the last time I bought a fixer-upper it almost killed Johnny three times,
but in the end, he always came out on top.”
“I don’t think
I’ll mention anything past your first sentence, but I’m sure Trevor will appreciate
your thoughts.”
“Yea