Chapter 22

 

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.

 

 

   Chapter 23

 

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.

 

   Chapter 24

   

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.

 

   Chapter 25

 

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. 

 

   Chapter 26

 

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.”

 

“Yeah...yeah, maybe it’s better not to say anything about the other stuff.  Sure, I gotcha’, Roy. Just tell Trev that Johnny’s tougher than old shoe leather, and that I know he’ll pull through this.”

 

“I’ll tell him.”

 

“Keep me updated, okay? And let me know as soon as I can visit Johnny.”

 

“Yes on both accounts.”

 

“I suppose Gage’ll give me hell about this house.”

 

“I don’t think so. It’s not your fault.” Roy cast a meaningful glance in Trevor’s direction. “It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s a rare virus. It’s not as though anyone infected Johnny on purpose.”

 

“I suppose you’re right.”

 

“I know I’m right.”  Roy saw Jennifer getting off the elevators. “Look, Jennifer’s headed this way so I need to go.  I’ll call you this evening and let you know how Johnny’s doing.”

 

“All right. Thanks, Roy. Bye.”

 

“Goodbye.”

 

“Oh, hey, Roy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Tell Johnny...well, tell him I said to hang in there. Tell him we can’t have a 51s reunion without him being there, too.”

 

“Okay. I’ll tell him. Talk to you tonight, Chet.”

 

“Yeah, talk to you then.”

 

Roy stood and slipped his cell phone in the leather carrier he had hanging from his belt.  Trevor did the same thing with his father’s phone. Roy put an arm around Trevor’s shoulders as they fell in step with Jennifer and walked with her through the double doors that led to Johnny’s room.

 

____________________

 

Trevor left his father’s side that day only when he was forced to do so by Jennifer or Roy.  Johnny’s temperature was still elevated, so Trevor bathed his face using a cloth he’d dip in cool water. He was careful so he didn’t get the bandage damp that covered the gash on Johnny’s forehead, and careful that he didn’t bump any monitors or IV lines. The fever and lack of consciousness on Johnny’s part concerned the teenager.

 

“He’s not unconscious because of his head injury, he is?” Trevor asked Jennifer late that morning while he wiped his father’s face with the damp cloth.

 

“No, Trev. Remember that I told you the CAT revealed nothing that would cause me concern. He didn’t even need stitches.”

 

“But what about the fever?  Why isn’t it responding to medication?”

 

Jennifer smiled.  “You’re going to be quite the doctor some day, kiddo. To answer your question, the fever is a result of your father’s immune system trying to fight off a foreign invader.  In the case of HPS, the fever doesn’t generally respond favorably to any medication. This is another area where supportive measures are the main thing we can offer.”

 

Though Trevor didn’t have much of an appetite, Roy took him to the cafeteria at noon to eat lunch.  Roy had arranged for them to meet Dixie there since she was on duty.  The elderly nurse gave Trevor a hug as he stepped into the cafeteria with Roy.

 

“You look more and more like your father all the time, Trevor.”

 

Trevor smiled, and replied in a way he wouldn’t have just two months earlier. “Thank you.”

 

Dixie squeezed Trevor’s arm as she released him.  “I don’t believe in making promises I can’t keep, so please understand that this old nurse can’t offer you any guarantees.  But, I can tell you that I know what a tenacious man your father is.  He has a reason to fight this battle, Trevor, and that reason is you.  I know Johnny won’t call it quits without giving this virus a run for its money.”

 

“But even if he fights as hard as he can, he still might die,” Trevor said.

 

“Yes, he might,” Dixie nodded. “But not because he gave up. Just remember that.  It’s important that you know your father would never give up.  You’ve given him so much to live for. It’s because of you that he’s accomplished the things he has since moving to Eagle Harbor.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Trevor denied, not able to believe that the existence of one little boy could make that big of a difference in anyone’s life.

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Because Johnny told me so right here in this hospital seven years ago when he was recuperating from his encounter with Evan Crammer.”

 

Trevor looked at Roy, who nodded his head. 

 

“He’s said the same thing to me several times.”

 

“But I don’t get it,” Trevor said as Roy put a hand on his back and urged him to begin moving through the food line.

 

“You don’t get what?” Roy asked as he picked up a plate and utensils. 

 

“What difference did I make?”

 

“A father wants to make his children proud of him, Trev.  He wants to set a good example for his children, and through that, give them all the things they need in order to go out and make their way in the world once they reach adulthood.  Some of those needs are met through money, like in the form of college tuition.  But a lot of those needs are met by what you learned from you father as you were growing up. By the things he taught you that will inspire you to be a good person - the kind of guy who treats other people with respect, and who offers a hand to someone in need.”

 

“Like Papa does.”

 

“Yes,” Roy agreed. “Like your papa does.” 

 

Dixie was now well ahead of Trevor and Roy in the food line.  The teenager glanced at her as he put a spoonful of spaghetti on his plate, then returned his attention to Roy.

 

“Uncle Roy, do you think Dixie’s right?”

 

“Right about what?”

“That Papa will fight as hard as he can because of me?

“I know she’s right.”

 

“Even after everything I’ve done? You know, disobeying him, saying mean stuff to him, and then going to live with my mom?”

 

“Yes, Trevor. Even after everything you’ve done.”

 

“It’s that big,” the boy remarked thoughtfully.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“A father’s love. It’s...it’s so big that the bad stuff a kid does doesn’t really matter.”

 

“Oh, it matters. But not enough to make a father stop loving his son, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m asking.”

 

“Well, you don’t need to.  Your father never stopped loving you, Trev, any more than you stopped loving him.”

 

For the first time in his life, Trevor really absorbed the meaning of the word love. It wasn’t just a word you said, or even just a feeling you carried inside. It was a bond between two people that not even angry words and misunderstandings could sever.  As Trevor had said, it was that big. And now, finally, after all their trials and tribulations, he understood the enormity of his father’s love.

 

Trevor was quiet as he ate lunch with Roy and Dixie. When he was finished, he was anxious to get back to the ICU. Roy didn’t try to dissuade him. He remained behind with Dixie so he could finish eating, while telling Trevor to go ahead.

 

“Just make sure you check with one of the nurses before going in,” Roy reminded.

 

“I will.”

 

The teenager put the tray that contained his dirty dishes on a collection cart, and then bounded from the cafeteria with a spring to his step Roy hadn’t seen Trevor had arrived.

 

“He’s got the Gage energy,” Dixie remarked with a smile.

 

“That he does.”

 

“He’s sure anxious to get back to Johnny.”

 

“Yeah, he is.  That’s why I’ll hang around down here a while longer.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I have a feeling Trevor has some things to say to his dad...papa, and whatever those things are, they’re just between a son and his father, you know what I mean?”

 

     Dixie reached over and patted Roy’s hand. “Yes, Roy, I know what you mean.  I guess this old nurse, and this old paramedic, can still dispense some pretty good advice to an impulsive young guy by the last name of Gage, who reminds me an awful lot of another impulsive young guy by the last name of Gage that we used to know.”

 

     Roy laughed. “It seems we can.”

 

Dixie turned somber as she squeezed Roy’s hand. “I don’t want to lose him, Roy.”

 

“Neither do I, Dix,” Roy said as he squeezed back. “Thirty six years of friendship is a lot, I suppose, but believe me, in many ways it seems like only yesterday when Johnny first came to see me about joining the paramedic program.  I’m not ready to let go of him yet, either, and I plan on telling Johnny that before I leave here today.”

 

When Roy finally stood and walked away, Dixie thought his back was a little straighter, and his gait a little lighter. As though, for the moment, he had captured a time long in the past now when they were all young, and when the golden years of their lives seemed so far into the future that they didn’t even contemplate them, let alone imagine those years would arrive in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

 

 

   Chapter 27

 

Trevor found himself remembering so many things that afternoon as he attempted to give his father whatever relief possible through use of the cool, damp cloth. He quietly spoke of them to Roy, and to his father as well. There was the time when he was four, and had an earache so painful that he couldn’t lie down without screaming.  His father had sat up with him all night, cradling Trevor’s sore ear against his chest while rocking back and forth in the wooden rocker that had sat in one corner of the great room when Trevor was small. 

 

Then when Trevor was seven he’d been hospitalized at the small Eagle Harbor Medical Center with pneumonia.  His father had spent three nights at the hospital with him getting what little sleep he could in a chair, then going to work each morning and returning again each evening when he’d gone off duty.  Trevor never realized at the time how worried and tired his father was, or how sore his back was from sleeping in that chair, but upon reflection now, he realized the sacrifices his father had made for a young boy who was scared and didn’t want to left alone all night at the hospital.   

 

At age eleven, Trevor had broken his right wrist snowboarding. It had been his father who’d written out his homework throughout the four weeks that cast was on, and never complained about it.  It was his father who had done all those things, and so many more.  His father, and not his mother, because she hadn’t been there, and hadn’t wanted to be there, and now that was just one more fact Trevor finally understood.

 

There were times when Roy took the cloth from Trevor and assisted the teen in his efforts to bring Johnny’s temperature down.  Trevor smiled when he heard Roy tell Johnny that he wasn’t to give up, and that he had a lot to live for yet.

 

“Besides, you don’t want one of Chet’s houses to get the best of you, do you?”

 

Trevor wasn’t certain what that last reference meant, but he didn’t ask Roy to explain it either. He was just happy someone else was by his father’s side that shared a history with him, just like Trevor did. Trevor felt like if anything could help his father at this point, it was the knowledge that his son had returned to him, and that his best friend was here as well.

 

Twice during that long afternoon Johnny’s elevated temperature brought on delirium that caused the fire chief to fight against his restraints.  Trevor never knew what terrifying images his father’s mind was producing, but he surmised the nightmares had do with him and Roy, because it was their voices that calmed the man down.

 

“Johnny, it’s okay, you’re fine.  Everything’s okay,” Roy would assure while gently pinning Johnny’s shoulders to the bed. “You’re fine, Johnny.  Trevor’s here.  He’s staying with Joanne and me. You don’t have anything to worry about anything except getting better so you can go home with your son.”

 

“Papa, everything is okay,” Trevor chimed in when he had to assist Roy with preventing Johnny from attempting to climb out of the bed. “Papa, you’re gonna be okay.  I’m here, and Uncle Roy’s here.  You need to rest, Papa. You need to calm down so you can get better.”

 

Trevor didn’t want to leave the hospital that evening, but both Roy and Jennifer insisted that he must as they stood outside Johnny’s room with Trevor. 

 

“Aunt Joanne’s expecting us home for supper,” Roy said.

 

“I’m not—“

 

“I know you’re not hungry, but you have to eat.”

 

“Trevor, I want you to go home with my dad,” Jennifer said.  “You’re tired, and you need to call it a day. Plus, you still have phone calls to make to your grandfather, and to Carl and Clarice.”

 

“But—“

 

“It won’t do your father any good if you collapse from exhaustion, and I have to admit you to the hospital, now will it?”

 

“No, I guess not.”

 

“Therefore, it’s in your best interest to go home and get some rest.”

 

“But what if he gets delirious again and Uncle Roy and I aren’t here? You said it was because of us he calmed down.”

 

Jennifer couldn’t deny she had said that, but she wasn’t going to allow Trevor to use it against her, either, in an effort to get his own way. 

 

“You and Dad were a big help, and I do think Uncle Johnny knows you’ve both been here with him. But I also believe he’d want the two of you to go home now, eat supper, and get some rest.  Please, Trevor, do this for your father without giving us a hassle over it.”

 

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

 

Jennifer smiled as she briefly laid her palm against the side of the teenager’s face. “You aren’t causing trouble, sweetheart, but I do want you to go home now without giving me or Dad an argument.”

 

“You’ll call if anything changes? If he...if he gets worse?”

 

“Yes,” Jennifer promised. “I’ll call if something changes.”

 

“I just...it’s just that I need to be here if something...if something happens. I...I have to be with him if he...if he...if he dies, Jennifer.  I need to be here with him if that happens.  I need to...I have to be able to tell him...to tell him goodbye.”

 

“I realize that,” Jennifer said. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

“All right,” Trevor responded, satisfied to some degree since he’d gotten Jennifer’s word on the matter.  “I wanna say goodbye to him before we go.”

 

“Okay,” Roy agreed, while Jennifer granted her permission with a nod.

 

Jennifer and Roy remained in the doorway while Trevor walked to his father’s bedside. Like the previous evening, he bent and kissed Johnny’s forehead.  He reached down and clasped his left hand around his father’s.

 

“Papa, I’m going back to Uncle Roy’s now. I’ll see you in the morning. Be...be strong for me.  I love you.”

 

The teenager started to leave the room, then paused a moment and turned around for one last look at his father. Though neither Roy nor Jennifer saw Johnny’s gesture, Trevor did. John’s eyes never opened, but he gave his son a weak, wobbly, side-ways ‘thumbs up.’ And for the first time since receiving Roy’s e-mail, Trevor felt a small margin of hope.

 

____________________

 

Johnny didn’t like being restrained, and he didn’t like being so damn hot. It felt like he was trying to fight a forest fire while tied to a tree.  He briefly wondered what joke Chet Kelly was playing on him, and then wondered why he’d even thought of Chet Kelly.  He hadn’t worked with the man in close to three decades, yet for some reason Chet’s name came to mind.

 

He felt someone’s lips brush his forehead, and was confused as to who this person might be until he heard the voice. His heart rate sped up a bit. He wanted to talk to his son. He wanted to say, “I love you,” in return, but the tube in his throat wouldn’t allow him to even mumble those words, and it took too much effort to open his eyes and look at his boy. He tried to give Trevor a thumbs up, which was the only way he had of reassuring the teenager that everything was going to be okay.  He heard Roy’s voice, and deciphered enough to realize that Roy was taking Trevor somewhere.

 

No! No, bring him back! I want my son with me.  I want him here.

 

Johnny curled the fingers of his right hand toward himself, in a gesture that beckoned Trevor to return. He didn’t know how much time passed before he felt a woman’s hand slip into his and give it a light squeeze. It took him a long moment to identify her, but he was finally able to get his muddled brain to focus. Dixie told him he had to continue to fight hard in order to get better, which he took to mean was the only way they were going to let Trevor visit again.  He wanted to tell her that wasn’t fair.  He wanted to tell Dix he felt even worse than he had when he’d suffered from that stupid monkey virus, and it wasn’t right that she, and Roy, and Jennifer, were keeping his son from him.

 

It just wasn’t right, and it was at that moment John Gage’s stubborn resolve kicked in with full force.

 

 

   Chapter 28

 

Thursday was, in many ways, a repeat of Wednesday.  Trevor remained at his father’s bedside as much as Jennifer would allow.  Johnny’s temperature was still elevated, and he was never more than semi-conscious throughout the day. The one thing that did differ from Wednesday was the fact that shortly after noon Johnny began to stabilize. By the time Jennifer sent Roy and Trevor home early that evening, she was, “cautiously optimistic,” as she phrased it. She was leaving the hospital then, as well, for the first time in more than forty-eight hours in order to get some sleep in her own bed. She had left instructions to be called if Johnny’s condition changed for the bad or the good throughout the night. In light of that, Jennifer called Libby and requested that she spend the night with her grandparents again. 

 

Joanne and Libby were both home from work when Roy and Trevor arrived from the hospital at six. Supper was in the oven, and by six-thirty, everyone was seated around the table eating. Trevor assisted with the clean up that night; despite Joanne telling him it wasn’t necessary.  When the kitchen was back in order and the dishwasher was cycling, Trevor used his father’s cell phone to call his grandfather, and then to call Carl and Clarice, in order to give the promised updates, just like he’d done the previous evening.  He couldn’t tell them much other than to say Johnny was “holding his own,” and that Jennifer was, “cautiously optimistic.” He smiled slightly when he realized he’d already spent too much time at Rampart because he was picking up on the medical vernacular. 

 

While Trevor was making his phone calls, Roy called Chris, followed by Marco, and then Chet. Similar to Trevor in regards to his calls, Roy couldn’t give the men information that differed much from what he’d told them on Wednesday evening.  As Roy assumed he would, Marco said he’d pass the message on to Hank Stanley and Mike Stoker, thereby once again saving Roy additional time on the phone.

 

It took some talking on Libby’s part, but she finally convinced Trevor to swim with her in her grandfather’s pool.

 

“Come on, Trev,” Libby had said when Trevor turned down her offer to swim after he got off the phone with Carl. “All we did last night was sit around and watch TV, and you weren’t paying attention to what was on, anyway. Let’s swim for a while.”

 

“All right,” Trevor reluctantly agreed, “as long as someone can hear the phone ring.”

 

“We can hear the kitchen phone through the patio screens,” Roy assured, “and I’ll bring my cell phone outside, too.”

 

 Roy and Joanne sat on the deck as the sun slowly set, watching Trevor and Libby talk while they hung over inflatable rafts and floated in circles around the pool.

 

Joanne looked at Roy and smiled. “It’s different from just last summer when they were shrieking, and splashing, and carrying on while dunking one another under the water.”

 

“Yes, it’s different,” Roy agreed realizing, not for the first time, that his granddaughter and Trevor were growing up far too quickly. 

 

Trevor and Libby got out of the pool as darkness fell and the cool night air made bobbing in the water uncomfortable. Libby took a shower in her grandparents’ bathroom, while Trevor made use of the shower in the bathroom that was located in the hallway next to the guestroom. No one had wanted dessert after supper, so Joanne got out vanilla ice cream, pound cake, and strawberries for a late night snack.  The foursome lingered around the table a bit, then Joanne and Libby headed for bed. Once again, they both had to work the next day. In light of that, Roy told his wife that he’d clean up the kitchen before going to bed. 

 

After the women had retired for the night, Trevor asked, “Do you mind if I use your computer again to check my e-mails? I wanna see if I have a message from my mom.”

 

“No,” Roy said as he gathered up the dessert plates. He’d allowed the boy to check his e-mails the previous evening, but there had been no message from Ashton, and she hadn’t called yet either. “Go ahead.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Trevor walked down the hall to the office, as Roy and Joanne referred to the room that had been John’s.  He shut the door three quarters of the way so the light wouldn’t disturb Joanne or Libby. He pulled the chair out from the computer desk, sat down, and got on-line.  As he signed into his Hotmail account, Trevor could faintly hear the sound of the television in the living room. He knew it was his Uncle Roy’s habit to watch the news before going to bed.

 

When the news ended, Roy shut the TV off. He stood, shut off the living room lamp, then shut off the kitchen light as he passed the switch. It was ten minutes after eleven now, and he had assumed Trevor had gone to bed until he saw light spilling into the hallway from the partially closed office door.  He entered the room, and found Trevor sitting on the daybed with an open photo album in his lap.

 

“Did your mom get in touch with you?”

 

Trevor looked up. “Yeah. Finally. She asked a lot of questions that I had to answer, but I think I explained everything about the virus right.”

 

“She wasn’t upset because you came out here, was she?”

 

“No,” Trevor shook his head.  “I knew she wouldn’t care.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Trevor said as Roy sat down beside him. “She loves me and everything, but she...it’s not the same as with Papa. I can’t explain it, but it’s just not the same.  One thing I learned this summer, is that he’s been more of a mother to me than she ever will be, as strange as that sounds.”

 

“It doesn’t sound strange. I understand what you mean.”  Roy looked down at the album Trevor had open. “I see you’re looking through the old pictures of your father and me when we worked together.”

 

“Yeah. Sorry. I should have asked first.”

 

“You don’t need to ask,” Roy assured. He’d shown the pictures to Trevor a number of times over the years, so the teenager knew exactly what photo album they were in. 

 

Trevor slowly turned the pages, smiling at some pictures, chuckling at others, and outright laughing at a few.  Especially the ones someone had taken when Johnny was dripping wet, or had his face covered with flour, thanks to a Phantom prank. Roy got just as much enjoyment out of the pictures as Trevor did, even though he’d seen them enough times to now have them memorized.

 

Trevor tapped a photo with his index finger. “Here’s one of Pops leaning on a counter talking to Dixie.”

 

“Yes, that was the old nurses’ station before the ER was remodeled about twenty years ago.”

 

“I wonder what he’s saying to her. See,” Trevor pointed at Dixie, “she’s rolling her eyes.”

 

“I don’t remember what he was saying, but by the look on Dixie’s face, I’d guess he was running one of his wilder schemes by her.”

 

“Schemes?”

 

“Your father was forever coming up with some idea that was supposed to make things better for us. Trouble was, those ideas just never seemed to work out the way he thought they would.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like the time he thought it would be a good idea for all of us guys on the A-shift to buy a hotdog stand.  He got everyone excited about the prospect, and then the stand burnt down the next day.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“That was sure bad luck.”

 

“Your father said the same thing. About one hundred times, actually.”

 

“What else did he do?”  

 

“Well, there was the time he told Cap he could fix the station’s TV when it broke.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“While Johnny was trying to fix it, it sparked and caught fire.”

 

Trevor laughed. “I bet Captain Stanley was mad.”

 

“Let’s put it this way, he wasn’t very happy with your father, and assigned him to latrine duty for the next two shifts.”

 

“Pops has never told me about any of this stuff. Was there anything else?”

 

“Trevor, there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to tell you all the zany things your father did.”

 

Trevor grinned. “Try me.”

 

Roy chuckled while offering up a few more memories.  “Well, let me see...there was the time he wanted to make things easier for us by not having to write down our calls, so he installed a tape recorder in the squad. Only trouble was, he blew a fuse and almost burned his hair in the process. Then there was the time he had your Aunt Joanne furious with him.”

 

“Over what?”

 

“Joanne was upset with me because I had made a comment about liking Mike Stoker’s spaghetti, which your Aunt Joanne took to mean that I didn’t like her spaghetti.”

 

“Oh boy.”

 

“Oh boy is right. Then your father, in an insane effort to help, called Jo and gave her Mike’s recipe.”

 

“Aunt Joanne was really mad, huh?”

 

“Oh yes. Mad at me for telling Johnny about our fight, and mad at Johnny for interfering.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“She didn’t invite him to supper for two weeks. Then he showed up on our doorstep with flowers and a lost puppy dog expression on his face, and that’s when she forgave him.”

 

 “That’s funny, ‘cause I can’t imagine Aunt Joanne getting made at Papa. She always spoils him.”

 

“Yes, she does,” Roy agreed. “But every so often he could cross the line with her back then, though he always knew how to set things right with her again.”

 

Trevor was eager for more of these stories he’d never heard before. “Anything else?”

 

“Well, there was the time your father and I had decided to go into the floor cleaning business together.  We were all set to buy the equipment, when Johnny convinced me we should talk to a guy we knew first, who had experience with the business. I didn’t wanna wait because I was afraid someone would buy the stuff out from under us. Which was exactly what happened after your father assured me no one would buy anything between noon and one, since that’s when people normally eat lunch.  Or at least I believe that was the method to your father’s madness. I never was quite certain, and I wasn’t foolishness enough to ask him to explain it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because he would have talked for a solid thirty minutes on the subject, and when he was done, I would have still been as uncertain as I was when he started.”

 

Trevor laughed, then looked down at a picture Joanne had taken that showed Johnny and Roy standing next to Squad 51. 

 

“You and Papa were good friends, weren’t you?”

 

“Yes, we were,” Roy confirmed what Trevor already knew. “We still are.”

 

“I know. I’m glad...I’m glad he’s got a friend like you, Uncle Roy.”

 

“And I’m glad I’ve got a friend like him.”

 

When Trevor didn’t say anything, but instead continued to gaze down at the picture, Roy brought a hand up and rested it on the back of his bowed head. 

 

“I’m calling it a night, Trev. How about you?”

 

“In a few minutes.”

 

“All right,” Roy said as he stood. “See you in the morning.”

 

“Yeah, see you in the morning. Uncle Roy?”

 

Roy turned around, though he already knew what the teenager was going to say.  The brief conversation was a repeat of what had taken place the previous evening.

 

“If Jennifer calls—“

 

“If Jennifer calls I’ll wake you up. Yes.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

As Roy was drifting off to sleep fifteen minutes later, he heard the muted sounds of Trevor walking from the office to the guestroom across the hall. He wasn’t sure what it had been about those old pictures that had brought the boy comfort, but whatever it was, Roy understood it, because he’d sought comfort in them several times himself over the years.

 

____________________

 

 

When the first shrill ring sounded, Roy thought it was the alarm clock. Joanne set it to go off at five-thirty during the weekday mornings so she didn’t have to rush, and could enjoy her breakfast along with reading the newspaper before leaving the house two hours later. Roy burrowed deeper into the pillow, wondering why his wife hadn’t shut the alarm off.  He felt her elbow him in the ribs, then sat up when she said with urgency, “Roy, that’s the phone.”

 

  Roy groped for the portable phone that was on the nightstand by his side of the bed. The first rays of morning sun were creeping in through the draperies, giving him just enough muted light to see by. His heart was heavy as he picked up the receiver. Despite the improvement in Johnny’s condition the previous afternoon, he was certain this five a.m. phone call was the news he’d been dreading since Johnny had been admitted to Rampart three days earlier.   

 

“Hello?”

 

When no one answered, Roy said again, “Hello?”

 

The voice was so hoarse and soft, that it took Roy a moment to realize whom his caller was.

 

“Hi...hi, Roy.”

 

“Johnny?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Johnny?” Roy questioned a second time, unable to hide his astonishment. He felt Joanne sit up beside him.

 

“It’s Johnny?”

Roy nodded while holding up a hand to indicate he needed Joanne to be quiet so he could hear. The words that followed were slurred and weak, meaning Roy had to listen hard to decipher them.

 

“Roy...Jen’s holdin’ the phone to my ear, an...and she’s only giving me a minute, so can I...can I talk to Trevor?”

 

     Roy smiled. “You sure can. Hang on.”

 

     “Hey...thanks.”

 

     Roy knew Johnny’s thanks encompassed a lot of things the man didn’t have the energy to voice right now.  Thanks for fishing him out of the swimming pool.  Thanks for recognizing how sick he was.  Thanks for remaining by his side as much as possible throughout this ordeal, and most of all, thanks for contacting Trevor, and for giving him a place to stay.

 

     “You’re welcome.  Now hang on. I’ll get Trevor.”    

 

     Roy hopped out of bed, put his robe on, and hurried to the guestroom with the portable in hand. He pounded on the door four times with his fist.

 

“Trevor! Trevor, wake up!”

 

     Roy never gave it a thought that he’d scare the boy. A tousle-headed Trevor, dressed only in pajama bottoms like his father had been three days earlier, pulled the door open. When he saw that Roy had the phone in his hand, Trevor paled.

 

     “Is it Jennifer?  Is Papa...”

 

     “Here,” Roy said as he thrust the phone at the teenager.

 

     “What?”

 

     “Just put it up to your ear and say hello. But hurry.”

 

     Trevor had no idea who was on the other end of the line, or what this was all about, when he put the phone to his ear and gave a cautious, “Hello?”

 

     “Hi...kiddo.”

 

     “Papa?”

 

     “Yeah...yeah, it’s me.”

 

     “Are you okay?”

 

     “I must be if...if I’m talkin’ to you.”

 

     Trevor couldn’t help but smile, while at the same time tears ran down his face. He could tell his father was exhausted, and the man’s voice was weak and gravelly, but Trevor fully understood the significance of this phone call. 

 

There were a lot of things Trevor Gage had to say to his father, a lot of things he needed to say, but he could hear Jennifer’s voice and had a feeling the phone call was going to end soon.  Therefore, he settled on saying the most important thing.

 

     “I love you, Papa.”

 

     “Love you...love you too, Trev. Jenny...Jenny says I’ve gotta go for now.”

 

     “Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

 

     Trevor never heard his father’s response. He handed the phone to Roy, who passed it to Joanne. She was standing behind her husband, and by the time she got the instrument Jennifer was on the line.  While Joanne listened to the update her daughter gave on Johnny’s condition, Trevor smiled at Roy.

 

     “He’s okay. Papa’s gonna be okay.”

 

     “Yes,” Roy confirmed. “I’d say he is.” 

 

     The paramedic chief heard the relief in Trevor’s voice as the boy whispered, “I’m so glad.”

 

     Roy reached out and pulled the teenager to his chest. He’d learned in recent years that it was easier to be open with his feelings than it had been when he was younger.  Whether that was a result of getting sentimental in his old age, or whether it was the grandfather coming out in him, he wasn’t certain.  But he didn’t have a grandson to hug any longer, and hadn’t for nine years now. So, he did for Trevor what he would have done for Brandon in this situation. He hugged him, gave him a pat on the back, kissed the top of his head, and said, “I’m glad, too, Trevor.  Your Uncle Roy is glad, too.”

 

     When Trevor stepped out of Roy’s embrace, he scampered around the room, getting clothes out of his suitcase with one hand, while making his bed with the other.

 

     “I need to call my grandpa, and Carl and Clarice. And you need to call Chris, and Chet, and Marc—“

 

     “I think we’d better wait a few hours to make those phone calls. It’s a little too early to be disturbing anyone.”

 

     “Yeah, I suppose,” Trevor agreed, while noticing Roy was still standing in the same spot. “Come on! Let’s hurry. I’ll buy you breakfast anywhere you wanna eat and then we can go to Rampart.”

 

     “Trev, it’s not even five-fifteen yet.”

 

     “I know. But this way we can get a good parking spot.”

 

     Roy shook his head and smiled as he watched Trevor vault the bed in order to get on the other side of it. The boy’s comment had made no sense since visitor parking was plentiful at Rampart, and his enthusiasm and energy were overwhelming for such an early hour. His mouth was running on at a mile a minute as he tried to decide what restaurant they should eat at, and what he’d order, and whether he should have eggs, or pancakes, or French toast, or maybe all three. But none of this should have come as a surprise because, after all, Trevor was Johnny’s son, Roy thought with deep affection as he watched the boy ricochet around the room.

 

He was Johnny’s son, and without a doubt, a chip right off the old block.   

 

 

Chapter 29

 

     As past cases of HPS had proven, if the patient survived the cardiopulmonary stage of the virus, he usually recovered rapidly.  Johnny wasn’t an exception to this rule, and was released from Rampart on Monday.  Jennifer wouldn’t allow him to fly back to Eagle Harbor until the following Sunday.  She wanted him to rest at her parents’ home that week, and wanted to do follow-up blood work on Thursday to make certain he was well on the road to recovery.

 

     The only excitement Jennifer granted her patient that week, if one could call it that; was the cookout Joanne and Roy hosted on Wednesday evening that included Chris’s family, Jennifer and Libby, as well as Kelly Brackett and Dixie McCall, since Johnny and Roy’s lunch with them never materialized due to Johnny’s illness.  Then on Friday, Jennifer allowed her patient to meet the men of the A-shift at Marco’s restaurant for the noon luncheon Marco hosted for his former co-workers in a small, private dining room.

 

     Because of the last minute alteration of plans, just the men attended the reunion. No wives, no children, and no grandchildren, which Roy thought was a nice change.  Not that he didn’t enjoy showing off his family, and seeing everyone else’s families at the picnics he’d hosted each year for the past twenty, but it was fun to talk nothing but shop and old times all afternoon without interruptions, or having to stop and track down a wandering grandchild.  While Roy and Johnny were at the reunion luncheon, Libby and Trevor spent the afternoon together at a movie, and then swimming in Roy’s pool. 

 

After Johnny had assured everyone that other than being a little tired, he was fine; the fire chief experienced his fair share of ribbing over another one of Chet’s houses wreaking havoc with his body. 

 

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault,” Johnny had defended himself. “As far as I’m concerned, Kelly’s houses are just plain bad luck.”

 

“Yeah,” Chet snorted, “where you’re concerned is right, Gage. The rest of us don’t seem to have a problem with ‘em.”

 

“Evidently the rest of you don’t work as hard as I do on your fixer-uppers, Kelly.”

 

Chet pointed his fork at Johnny. “Listen, Gage, I’ll tell you who works hard, and it’s not some pampered fire chief from Alaska who—“

 

“Hey, you twits, shut up and let us enjoy our lunch, or I’ll give both of you latrine duty for a month.”

 

Hank Stanley’s remark brought back a flood of old memories regarding how many Gage-Kelly arguments they’d all sat through thirty odd years earlier. Everyone laughed, even the two combatants, and then the subject changed and the reunion continued until five o’clock, when Hank left to head home to Monterey.

 

As they parted ways in the parking lot, Chet gave his foe a hug. “Take care of yourself, Gage.”

 

“I will.”

 

“And listen...I’m glad you’re back on your feet.”

 

“Me too,” Johnny said as he stepped out of the man’s embrace. “And the next time you buy a house?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

 “I don’t wanna know about it.”

 

“Aw, Gage, you’re gettin’ soft in your old age.”

 

“No, Kelly, actually, what I’m getting in my old age is smart.”

 

“You?” Chet laughed as he climbed in his Jeep. “Smart?  That’ll be the day, Gage. That’ll be the day.”

 

Johnny smiled and shook his head as the Jeep pulled out of the parking lot.  He looked at Roy and said, “He’ll never change.”

 

“Would you want him to?”

 

Johnny thought a moment as he and Roy walked toward the mini-van. “No, I guess not.”

 

“That’s good, because you’re right. Chet will never change.”

 

With the exception of the reunion luncheon and the cookout with Roy’s family, Johnny spent that week resting as Jennifer had instructed, while reconnecting with his son.  They took a walk around Roy’s neighborhood each afternoon, also per doctor’s orders, and cleared up a number of misunderstandings.

 

As a result of that time spent alone together talking, Trevor now knew that his father had no memory of him calling and asking to come to L.A. He realized this was because of how sick Johnny had been on that Monday night, and not because Johnny didn’t want him there.  Likewise, Johnny discovered that Trevor thought Johnny wanted rid of his responsibilities to his son when no protest was given regarding Trevor moving to New York. Johnny assured his son, that no, that wasn’t the case at all, and that his reason for not protesting had been because he’d feared he’d lose Trevor for good if he didn’t allow the teenager to see if living with his mother was really what he wanted. Through their conversations, they both came to realize that if each of them hadn’t been so stubborn that last night they’d spent together in Anchorage, then perhaps all that followed would have never happened.  But Johnny, far better than Trevor, understood it was a road they had to travel as father and son.  Fortunately, that road had taken them in a circle that had ultimately brought them back together with a stronger bond, and a mutual respect for one another that had been lacking from their relationship since Christmas.

 

On their last Saturday afternoon in Los Angeles, Trevor and Johnny were once again taking a walk.  That evening Johnny was taking Roy, Joanne, and Trevor out for dinner. The next morning the Gage men were scheduled to fly out of LAX at ten. On Monday, Johnny would see his own physician. He anticipated being told that he needed another week of rest at home, before he returned to duty at Eagle Harbor’s fire station.

 

It was during that Saturday walk that Trevor was forthright with his father regarding the party he’d gone to in New York and what had occurred there. As well, he told Johnny about how his friends from Station 83 had prevented him from being seriously injured when they’d stopped the mugging Trevor had undergone because he’d been doing exactly what Johnny had told him not to – walking home after dark. Trevor was surprised when Johnny didn’t yell at him, or even scold him.  Instead, he said only, “Thanks for telling me. You made the right decision when you left that party. And as far as the mugging goes, well, it sounds like you made some good friends at Station 83.”

 

“Yeah, I did,” Trevor acknowledged at the thought of the men who had come to be such a large part of his life for the month and a half he’d lived with his mother.

 

Father and son walked in silence for a few minutes, then Trevor said, “You know, Pops, you and Mom don’t have much in common.”

 

“No, we don’t. Now you know why a marriage between us wouldn’t have worked.”

 

“And it wouldn’t have worked because she didn’t want me.”

 

Johnny stopped walking and turned to face his son. “Who told you that?”

 

“Mom did.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. And it really doesn’t matter anyway.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Trevor said. “Because even though Mom didn’t want me, you did.”

 

“There was never a minute that I didn’t want you, Trev. From the day your mother told me she was pregnant, I wanted you more than you’ll ever know.”

 

“Maybe a couple of weeks ago I wouldn’t have known how much you wanted me, Papa, but now...well, believe me, now I do.”

 

Johnny smiled while gently hooking his son around the neck and pulling Trevor to him.

 

“It feels good to hear you call me papa, again,” Johnny said as he kissed the boy’s forehead.

 

“It feels good to say it, too.  For a while...well, for a while, I thought I might not get the chance.  But Chet’s right, you are tougher than old shoe leather.”

 

Johnny laughed at the odd comparison, but coming from Chet Kelly, he knew it was a compliment.

 

Johnny released his son and the two resumed their walk. He gave Trevor a mock punch to his jaw.  “Chet’s right, kiddo.  Your old man is tough, and don’t you forget.”

 

“I won’t forget it, but you’re not old.”

 

Johnny smiled, but didn’t remind his son that just two months earlier, Trevor’s opinion on this subject was quite different from what it was today.  But that’s what growing up was all about.  Sometimes life taught you some hard lessons, and if you were lucky, you learned from those lessons and stored them for future reference.  Obviously, Trevor had learned well.

 

“Well, regardless of whether I’m old or not, let’s pick up the pace. Uncle Roy wants to leave for dinner by five-thirty.”

 

“I don’t know why. Aunt Joanne is gonna watch everything he eats anyway, and then tell him what he can and can’t have.”

 

Johnny laughed again, amused at how well his son knew Roy and Joanne. He grew serious when he thought of all the things Roy had told him Trevor had done for him while he’d been sick.

 

“Trev, I just want you to know I’m proud of how you’ve handled yourself...proud of the way you helped me since you came here last week.”

 

“I’m proud of you, too, Papa.  And you know when I said...well, in the restaurant in Anchorage when I asked you what you’ve done that comes close to comparing to what Mom’s done?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, now I know.  And what you’ve done for me is a lot more than she ever has, or ever will.”

 

“Trev—“

 

“I know you don’t wanna hear me say that kinda stuff about Mom, because you’ve always wanted me to think good of her.  But this one time I need to say it to you, because I had to go all the way to New York to find out it’s true.”

 

Johnny gave a slow nod of understanding. “I guess you did.”

 

With that, Johnny placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. They walked back to Roy’s house, where they enjoyed one last evening with the DeSotos before returning together the next day to their home in Eagle Harbor, Alaska. 

 

 

Epilogue

 

September 2007

 

On a Saturday afternoon in mid-September, John Gage stood outside the old metal building that served as Gus’s office. He shaded his eyes and looked up at the sky.  The Cessna was banking to the left as it came in for a landing.  Its wheels gently kissed the runway and bounced lightly three times before coming to a firm landing.  The plane slowed until it was being driven off the runway and onto the grassy strip where it would be secured for the night.  Trevor opened the pilot’s door and jumped down. By the time Gus was climbing out of the passenger side, the teenager had reached his father.

 

“Did you see, Pops?  Did you see?”

 

“I sure did.”

 

“It was awesome! Just great! It’s beautiful up there. It’s like...it’s like a freedom I can’t describe. Just as soon as I get my license, I’ll take you up with me. You’ll be my first passenger.”

 

“I’d better be.”

 

“I gotta secure the plane and do a few other things for Gus.  I should be ready to go in about a half an hour or so.  Do you mind waiting?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Okay, I’ll be back in a little while.”

 

“Take your time.”

 

Trevor ran toward the plane owned by Gus that he’d just taken his first flying lesson in.  When he was halfway across the runway, he turned around and gave his father a thumbs-up.

 

“Thanks, Papa!  Thanks a million!”

 

Johnny smiled and nodded at his son as Gus joined him.  When Trevor turned around and resumed his run to the plane, Gus said, “You did the right thing, John. He’s a good boy.  A real good boy. He’s ready for this responsibility.  If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to give him lessons.”

 

“I know.”  Johnny watched his son work. “It’s hard for me to let him go sometimes, Gus.  Hard for me to face the fact that he’s growing up.  But he is, and little by little I’m finally learning to adjust to that fact.”

 

Based on all Gus knew had happened since Trevor had left for New York in June, he said, “I think both you and Trevor are learning to adjust to that fact, and doing a pretty good job of it, too.”

 

“Thanks, Gus,” Johnny said with a smile.  “Thanks a lot.”

 

The fire chief started walking toward Trevor. “I’ll see you later.  I’m gonna help my son finish his work so I can take him to dinner and a movie.”

 

“Sounds good, Chief. Have fun.”

 

“We will.”

 

Gus stood outside his office watching the father and son work together in harmony.  No one could predict what the future held, but he knew whatever that future was, John and Trevor Gage would face it together.  And really, what more could a father want? Gus had a feeling that if you asked John Gage that, he’d flash that crooked grin of his at you while saying firmly, “Nothing.  Absolutely nothing,” and mean every single word of it.

 

____________________

 

 

After returning from Juneau later that night, Johnny and Trevor took turns using the computer in Johnny’s office.

 

 

____________________

 

 

 

Hi Roy,

 

Trevor had his first flying lesson today.  I don’t know when I’ve been that scared. Probably not since you and I had to run for our lives when that paint store was about to explode. I’m still not real crazy over the idea of Trev taking these lessons, but like you told me one day while I was recuperating at your house, sometimes a father just has to sit on his hands and let his little bird leave the nest.  Well, my little bird left the nest today in a big way.  I wasn’t sitting on my hands, but I did have my eyes closed half of the time he was up there. But don’t tell Trevor I said that.  And most of all, don’t tell Chet I said that.

 

Thanks again, Pally, for offering me advice where raising a teenager is concerned when I asked you for it, and thanks for not shoving it down my throat when I didn’t ask for it.  And if I haven’t already said it, thanks for all the help you gave Trevor and me in July. Talk to you later.

 

Junior

 

____________________

 

 

Hi Libby,

 

     I took my first flying lesson today.  It was more fantastic than I can describe.  

 

     School’s fine.  I like being a sophomore. It beats being a freshman, where you’re the low guy on the totem pole. So far my grades have been really good, so it’s not as hard as I thought it would be, even though I’m taking three classes they normally only offer to juniors.

 

     Things have been going really well between Papa and me. We still have our disagreements, but we’ve learned to talk them out most of the time. I got really mad at him last week because he wouldn’t let me go to a party I’d been invited to since it was on a school night, but just when I was about to start yelling, I remembered how sick he’d been in July, and how scared I was that he was going to die.  I was still mad at him, but I didn’t yell, and neither did he. 

 

I’m happy I’m living back in Eagle Harbor with Papa.  I never felt like I was at home when I was living with my mom, but I feel like I’m at home here. Clarice says that’s because this is where I’m meant to be – here in Eagle Harbor with Papa. I know she’s right, so I didn’t deny it when she said it.

 

 

     Talk to you tomorrow.

 

Trevor.

 

P.S.  Papa was so cool about my first flying lesson. It didn’t bother him a bit. He didn’t close his eyes once, even though I thought he might.  I’m glad he finally understands that I’m growing up. But, it feels good to still be his little boy sometimes, too.  I think I finally understand what being a father is all about. And someday, when I have a son of my own, I’ll be the kind of father to him that my father is to me.  The best.   

 

I guess a kid can’t ask for anymore than that, can he?

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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Assistance from numerous friends during the writing process of A Father’s Love, was greatly appreciated. 

 

Thank you, Peggy and Becca.  You both answered medical questions for me, and you both gave so generously of your time. Thanks so much, Becca, for helping me flesh out the paramedic scene.  Peggy, a big thank you for the medical beta read from start to finish.

 

Thank you, Audrey, Terri, and Janet, for answering questions on topics that literally spanned the distance between New York City and California.

 

As always, thank you, Debbie, for the beta read.