Chapter 65
"For the last time, I don't need gas money. I'm gonna slap you upside the head if you bring it up again. Geeze, Gage, can't a guy do a friend a favor?"
As Johnny sat in the passenger seat of Chet's Mustang listening to Kelly spout off, he knew he'd pushed the issue of money too far. Chet might talk like he was the biggest cheapskate around, but Johnny knew, as much as Chet denied it, deep down the Irishman had a soft heart and was actually an easy mark for hard luck stories.
The paramedic chief smiled at Chet's indignation, remembering the years of bickering and practical jokes that had gone on between the two of them when they worked at 51. True, there had been times when Johnny wondered what the heck he'd ever done wrong to deserve being the target of all the Phantom’s pranks, but at some point over the years he'd come to realize that there were all kinds of people and relationships. Though it might not always appear that way on the surface, Chet was a good friend, and there weren't too many other guys Johnny knew who would drop everything at a moment's notice and drive him out to San Bernardino.
Of course, there was one other person who would do it. Roy. The smile left Johnny's face. Under ordinary circumstances Roy would have been the first one Johnny called when he suddenly remembered the summons he'd received last week. A summons he'd all but forgotten about in the aftermath of John's reappearance and the mix of emotions Johnny had been experiencing since he'd heard the news.
When he'd received the notice from San Bernardino County Municipal Court he'd wondered how they could go ahead with a trial before they knew what had happened to John. He'd even called Detective Salazar to ask about it and was told the D.A. was going ahead with the assault and grand theft auto charges. Since they didn't have enough evidence to charge the two boys with kidnapping, or even possible murder, they would leave that for future action. And though the detective hadn't said it in so many words, Johnny knew they wouldn't be able to press for those kinds of charges unless John's body was found.
After he'd hung up the phone he remembered crumpling up the summons and tossing it to the back of his desk, wondering what the hell they could do to him if he didn't bother to show up. So many things didn't seem to matter in the face of the hopeless depression he'd felt with John’s still missing.
And then Friday evening Chris had showed up to tell him that, by some miracle yet to be fully understood, John had returned home, safe and apparently unharmed. Everything else had been pushed from Johnny's mind. He'd spent the entire weekend grappling with the confusing mixture of joy, relief, guilt and regret, that there'd been little time to think about anything else.
This morning though he'd woken up with something nagging at him. Something more than just the realization that it was his birthday and there would be no dinner at the DeSoto's this year. He didn't blame them. They needed to spend family time together; make up for the heartache they'd all endured. The last thing they should be worried about was whether or not John Gage had a birthday cake.
Especially since you were the one who caused all the pain in the first
place.
That little voice in his head was persistent and always seemed to find an opportunity to remind him of the fact that if he hadn't turned off the freeway, John would never have been missing for two weeks. He had to make a conscious effort to ignore that voice. It was an old enemy, one he'd come to know well after Kim and Jessie were killed. If he listened to it, it could lead him too easily into a path of depression and darkness. So, instead, he tried to remember what it was he was supposed to do today.
He got up, dressed, and hobbled into the kitchen to put some coffee on. While he waited for it to brew, he sat down at his desk and shuffled through his recent mail, hoping to jog his memory. That was when he found the wadded up paper that ordered him to appear in court as a witness at the trial for Shawn Reynolds and Daniel Wyatt.
The lethargy of the other day was gone, and he knew he needed to be there. The only problem was getting to San Bernardino since he still wasn't able to drive. As much as he hated having to do it, he'd have to call someone and ask a favor.
Johnny reached for the phone and automatically began to punch in Roy's number before his fingers froze half way through. The easy friendship, that a few weeks ago would have had him dialing without a second thought, didn't seem to be there. He was hesitant about asking. He tried to tell himself it was because he didn't want Roy to have to sit there and face the two boys who had caused him and his family so much grief, but Johnny knew that wasn't the reason. He knew deep down that he was afraid he'd lost the right to ask favors of Roy.
And so, when his fingers moved again, it was to hit the button to end the call. For a moment Johnny let his hand stay on the phone, not moving. He was so used to being able to call on Roy for anything that for a moment his mind was unable to think of what to do next. But finally he forced himself to act, and his fingers found a different pattern - another number, though not Bob Emery’s. He’d asked enough favors of Bob lately. This time, he called Chet.
He felt bad for asking. In Johnny's book Chet still qualified as a newlywed, and the Paramedic Chief knew he would be dragging his friend away from his wife and new baby. But Johnny was in a bind, and all jokes and pranks aside, he knew if Chet could possibly get away he would do this for him.
Two hours later found the two old friends in Chet's Mustang driving along the 91 Freeway on their way to San Bernardino. As Johnny had predicted, Chet had been more than willing to drop everything and drive him to the courthouse. Chet waved aside all Johnny's offers to make it up somehow, but the Irishman had taken great offense at the thought of taking any money for the trip. And as Chet finally wound down from his affronted tirade, Johnny wisely decided to drop the subject forever.
"Okay, okay," he relented with a resigned shake of his head. "Forget I ever mentioned gas money." He held up his hands in a sign of truce. "Can I at least say thanks for doing this? I mean, it was kind of last minute notice. I'm sure Jeannine still needs you at home as much as possible to help with the baby."
Chet's face took on a chagrined look. "Well... to be honest... she was sorta glad to get me outta the house."
Johnny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're kidding, right?" Ever since Chet got married he'd talked nonstop about the joys of matrimony and had taken it upon himself to make sure his still single friends knew what they were missing. "Trouble in paradise, Chester?"
Chet shook his curly head. "Nah. Not really. It's just since Collin was born things have been a little stressed. She says she's not getting enough sleep." Chet snorted. "I told her she should try being a fireman."
"I take it that didn't go over very well," Johnny chuckled.
"Like a lead balloon." Chet blew out a loud breath. "It's amazing how sleep depravation can make a chick cranky." He shrugged his shoulders. "We've just been getting on each other's nerves a little. So she was glad to have a day without me hanging around."
"Glad I could help ya’ out," Johnny quipped, but couldn't help feeling a little concern about his friend's home situation. He regarded Chet with a critical eye, trying to see under the public facade a little. When he couldn't tell anything just by the Irishman's face, Johnny decided to probe a little.
"So... how's fatherhood working out for you? Is it everything you thought it would be?"
Whatever undercurrent Johnny had thought to detect in his friend's demeanor vanished utterly in the smile that lit Chet's face.
"Hey, man... that's been the greatest part about being married," Chet gushed. "I mean, I thought being married was great before, but now... Man, Gage, I can't even describe it, but when that little guy smiles at me..." Chet gave up trying to find the words and trailed off with another shake of his head, this one in wonder. "I tell ya’, John, having a kid is the greatest thing in the world. You should try it some day."
Johnny had been watching Chet struggle to put his feelings into words and smiling with understanding amusement, but the smile vanished at those words, and he suddenly felt like he'd been slugged in the gut. He tried his best not to let his feelings show on his face, but he must not have succeeded for Chet suddenly blanched as he realized his blunder.
"Oh, shit... hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean... shit." He studied the road ahead intently for a moment before he glanced back over at Johnny. "I didn't mean... I mean, I know you were a father, John. I just meant... you know, like you should try it again... sometime."
Johnny gave his friend a tired smile to let him know he wasn't angry, then turned his gaze out the window at the passing scenery. Ever since Kent Stone’s sudden reappearance in Johnny’s life six years earlier, his friends from 51 knew about Kim and Jessie, but he didn't expect them to think about them all the time. Hell, probably most of the time they forgot John Gage had ever been married. He certainly did his best to help them do that. So why was he suddenly upset over Chet's innocent comment, and his awkward stammering about something that happened so many years ago that it sometimes seemed like a dream to Johnny himself?
He sighed, wincing slightly at his still tender ribs, and turned back to Chet. The smile he forced was a little more believable than the last one.
"I know what you meant, Chet. But I think I'm a little old to start over like that."
"Too old? What are you talkin' about? You're a year younger than I am."
"Yeah, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm not married. I'm not even close. So you hafta figure in the years it would take to not only find a girl I like, but..." he ticked off his points on his fingers of his good hand one by one, "fall in love with her, have her fall in love with me, get married, wait a year or two to get to know each other, think about having a kid, try to have a kid, wait nine months to have the kid." He raised an eyebrow at Chet to emphasize his point. "Ya’ see what I mean?"
Chet stared at him for a long moment, then turned his eyes back to the road and gave a derisive snort.
"Geeze, Gage, I've never met anybody else with your knack of making something so simple sound so complicated."
Johnny laughed lightly, then resumed watching the houses that were flying past them. After that, conversation lagged between them. Chet tried a couple of times to pick it up again, but without much success. They passed the last few miles of the trip in silence until at last they exited the freeway, and without much trouble, turned onto the street where they could see the three story courthouse.
"Here we are," Chet announced. He checked his watch as he pulled into the parking lot. "And with about ten minutes to spare. Good thing we were going against traffic."
Since Johnny was still on crutches, Chet dropped him off at the curb, then went to park the car. Johnny stood silently as he waited, his mind going over again what he might have to say inside. He wasn't looking forward to facing the boys who attacked him, and he was certainly glad the judge had decided John didn't need to be here. Salazar had informed Johnny that attorneys for both sides had agreed to allow John's statement to the police to be entered into the record, rather than make the five year old appear in court and testify. Especially since it had quickly become obvious that the boy really hadn't seen much. He couldn't identify either of the defendants by their photos and he hadn't seen the assault.
Johnny was particularly glad for that. Roy's family had been through enough because of Johnny's lack of judgment. At least he could take comfort in the fact that their little boy hadn't been a witness to the violent beating his uncle had received.
Johnny breathed another sigh, tempering this one out of respect for his half healed ribs. Chet walked up beside him, then reached out to hold open the big door.
Chapter 66
The judge banged his gavel, signaling the end of the morning’s proceedings. There would be a two hour lunch recess before the trial resumed. As the once quiet courtroom filled with the scrapping of chairs and the murmuring of the spectators as they made their lunch plans, Danny sat slumped in his seat. He watched absently as his attorney silently scribbled notes on his yellow pad.
The morning had gone as expected. John DeSoto's deposition was read into the trial record, the owner of the blue Nissan had shown up to state for the record that his car had been stolen from Huntington Beach while his family was spending the day there. Several San Bernardino County cops gave their reports of the arrest. It was all rather mundane, and Danny had listened to it, feeling strangely detached. He didn't suppose it mattered much anymore whether he went to jail for two years or twenty. The only person in the room who would miss him would be his mother. He glanced behind him to see she was still sitting in her chair. Her face, always careworn, was drawn with worry, but she did manage to give him a supporting smile.
Danny felt a strange flash of pride that caught him by surprise. He'd always been a little embarrassed by his mom, especially when he compared her to Mrs. Reynolds. Shawn's mother was always dressed in her best, in clothes that had to have come from Nordstroms or Sax. Danny had never seen the woman with a hair out of place or a smudge of dirt on her hands or face, while his mother never had new clothes to wear, never went to the beauty shop, except to apply for a job once, and always looked like she'd just finished cleaning someone's house. He couldn't count the number of times he'd been at Shawn's home and wished he could trade places with his friend.
But today, as Danny had watched Shawn's mother come into the courtroom, he realized that the emotions on this woman's face were far different than the one's he's seen constantly on his own mother's. Evelyn Reynolds looked more annoyed than worried, more put out than anxious. And in a revealing rush of understanding, he knew he would never want to live Shawn's life. He didn't know why he'd never figured it out before, but he knew he already had more than his friend ever would. He only hoped that he hadn't come to this understanding too late.
"Do you think they'll let me off the assault charges?" he asked Mr. Beckworth quietly. His previous lethargy had disappeared and staying out of jail suddenly meant a great deal to him.
Stan finished what he was writing and set his pencil down. "I can't tell you for sure, but I think it went okay." He steepled his fingers thoughtfully, then nodded his head slowly, giving Danny a tight smile. "I think Chief Gage helped us out quite a bit. It's a good thing he regained his memory of what happened."
Danny let out along breath of agreement, and his eyes moved to the back of the courtroom where he could see the paramedic chief still sitting in his aisle seat waiting for the crowd to shuffle past. Seeing him brought back the familiar deep rooted pang of regret for what Shawn had done to this man - for what he had allowed Shawn to do. Danny still had nightmares about that day; dreams that were gruesomely vivid and would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. Looking at Chief Gage, Danny wondered what kind of dreams plagued his sleep. It had been frightening enough to have to watch Shawn's act of violence. Danny couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be on the receiving end of that tire iron. To see the rage in Shawn's eyes directed at him and know he was going to die.
Danny thought he suppressed the shudder that image caused, but Stan looked over at him with concern.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." Danny chewed on his lip a moment, still turned in his seat watching as Chief Gage slowly pulled himself up on his crutches. He was seized by a sudden wish to talk to the man, to stand face to face. To do what, he wasn't exactly sure, but he knew once the chief left the courtroom, Danny would never see him again. He would lose his chance. "Is it okay if I get up... walk around a little?"
Mr. Beckworth followed his gaze, his brows drawn together as he realized who his client was watching. When he turned back to Danny, he gave the boy an inscrutable look. "Don't try and leave the courtroom," he cautioned with a smile that told Danny the man knew he wasn't planning any stupid moves. "We'll grab some lunch when you're done."
"Right. Thanks."
Danny got up from his seat. Though he wasn't wearing any restraints, his legs were still a little wobbly from sitting for so long. He saw the vigilant eyes of a San Bernardino deputy keeping a close watch on him; almost daring him to try and do something foolish.
Danny took a few tentative steps, unsure of himself now that he was actually moving. But he felt someone take his hand and glanced down into the eyes of his mother. He hadn't realized he'd moved far enough to be standing beside her.
He could see the worry there in her gaze, but she managed to give him a smile. It was an attempt to be strong for him. She had always tried to be strong for him, despite the many times he'd disappointed her, and in another moment of clarity he realized he was the one who should have been strong for her. He couldn't talk around the sudden lump in his throat, so he settled for squeezing her hand before he moved down the aisle. His desire to talk to the injured paramedic chief before he walked out of the courtroom, and out of Danny's life, had suddenly become a desperate need.
~ ~ ~
Johnny got to his feet, glad his role in this trial was over. The emotional roller coaster he'd been on since he'd been attacked had left him spent, and sitting in the witness stand facing the boys had been harder than he'd expected.
They'd looked different than he remembered. Cleaned up and dressed up for court, with their hair cut and wearing ties, they could have been any kid off the street. But Johnny had looked in their faces as he sat on the stand and had seen through the facade.
Shawn looked exactly like what he was. A spoiled rich kid whose face wore a look of smug assurance. Confident that his parents' money would get him out of trouble, he wasn't sorry for what he'd done. No matter how much his attorney tried to convince the jury that Shawn had been an unwitting victim, Johnny didn't buy it. The boy in front of him was no innocent kid who thought a little marijuana wouldn't hurt anything. An unknowing child who'd had been duped by street thugs who'd sold him something he hadn't bargained for. That image didn't jive with what Johnny all too clearly remembered now. The person who'd attacked him was no inexperienced boy on his first bad trip. He'd wielded that tire iron with too much savage enthusiasm for him to have been strictly chemically motivated. No, there was something brutal in Shawn Reynolds' eyes that Johnny had seen before, and it made his blood run cold to think there could be more than one Kent Stone in this world. He felt no regret for his testimony, knowing it would help put this kid away for a long time.
The other boy Johnny wasn't as sure of. His memory of that day had cleared for the most part, with only a few vague gaps. One thing he was certain of was that the blond haired teen whose face broadcast his fear and remorse all too clearly, hadn't been a part of the violence. The paramedic chief didn't know this boy, didn't know the dynamics of his relationship with Shawn Reynolds. He did know something had kept Danny Wyatt from stepping in to help, from putting a stop to the attack. But Johnny had a vivid recollection of the boy's fearful voice shouting for his friend to stop, and seeing Danny today had only reinforced his belief that if the teen could have figured out a way to stop his friend from hurting anyone, he would have. Of course, that fact didn't make any of the anguish of the last few weeks go away. There was still the aftermath of these boys' choices to deal with.
Johnny sighed softly, his mind gently calling up faces from long ago - faces that lived only in his memory. There was always the aftermath.
He sighed again, this time more resolutely. It was over now, as far as it concerned him. He'd given his version of what happened to the best of his recollection, and whatever decisions were made now were up to the judge. Johnny was more than ready to get out of here and go home.
"Hey, Gage, I'm gonna go get the car. You wanna wait here?"
Johnny glanced up from maneuvering his crutches. "That's okay, Chet. I can meet you outside."
"You sure?"
Johnny wondered if he looked as wrung out as he felt. He must, judging by the way Kelly was hovering over him.
"Go on, man... you're worse than Roy."
Chet made a "very funny, Gage," face and headed towards the large oaken double doors that lead out of the courtroom. Johnny's eyes followed after his friend, but his mind was on his last words, wondering if he would be able to salvage enough of his friendship with Roy to ever have to worry again about his former partner's penchant for playing mother hen.
"Mr. Gage... uh, Chief... Chief Gage?"
The hesitant voice cut into Johnny's musing and he turned to find himself facing Danny Wyatt. This close up, and so obviously nervous, the boy looked far younger than his nineteen years, and Johnny had a sudden recollection of what it was like to be this age and in over your head. Nevertheless, he kept his face impassive. After all, if this kid had shown a little more guts; had had the strength to stand up to his friend, Johnny wouldn't be on crutches, and Roy and his family wouldn't have spent the last few weeks in Hell. He straightened up as much as he could and regarded Danny evenly, waiting for the boy to speak.
"Uh... I wanted.... I mean, I know you probably need to go, but I..."
The blond's fair face was flushed red, and he shuffled his feet a bit as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. For a moment Johnny wondered if he would lose the struggle and simply give up and walk away, but somehow he found the strength of character he'd lacked on that desert road. He lifted his head and met Johnny's gaze for the first time.
"I figured I'd never see you after today and I... I wanted to tell you I'm sorry... about everything." He gave his thin shoulders a self-conscious shrug. "I know that doesn't make it all go away. If I could go back and change things... do stuff different, I would. If I'd known Shawn was gonna..." Danny paused and shook his blond head. "Nah, I can't just lay it all on Shawn. I shoulda’ done something. But I didn't. That's what I'm sorry about. That I didn't do anything."
He paused and there was a long silence. Johnny didn't say anything; didn't know what he was supposed to say. If this boy had come to him for absolution, Johnny didn't think he was ready to give him that; not yet.
After a moment, Danny nodded, apparently accepting the silence for what it was. And he seemed to understand.
"I just wanted you to know that," he said softly. "I hope someday that it might matter to you."
He tuned to go. Johnny stared after him for a moment, then something inside himself couldn't leave it like this.
"Hey," he called quietly. When Danny turned around, Johnny gave him an understanding nod. "It matters," he said. "It does matter."
The ghost of a smile played on the boy's face, then he merely nodded too before he turned around and walked back up the aisle towards his attorney.
Johnny watched him go. He didn't know what the outcome of the trial would be, or if this kid would see some jail time. But he was suddenly glad he'd been able to testify that he hadn't participated in the assault. Hopefully, those responsible for meting out justice would see the truth in what had happened, and Danny Wyatt wouldn’t be punished for having made a poor choice of friends.
Knowing there wasn’t anything else he could do here, Johnny turned and headed out of the courtroom. Chet would be wondering where he was.
Chapter 67
Danny stared out the passenger side window of his mother’s old Pontiac. Even though they were backed up at a red light in the middle of rush hour traffic, he couldn’t take in enough of this world outside his cell walls to suit him. Because of his newfound freedom, Danny vowed he’d never again do anything that might land him in jail. He knew how fortunate he was. There was no way he was going to blow this second chance the judge had given him.
Danny couldn’t help but smile a little as he thought of the way the smug look on Shawn’s face changed to horrified shock when Shawn’s expensive lawyer didn’t get him off scot-free like Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds had predicted would be the case. Instead, when the trial resumed after lunch, the jury listened to three more testimonies, then were dismissed to the deliberation room. When they returned thirty minutes later, the jury foreman announced that they’d found Shawn guilty of grand theft auto and assault with a deadly weapon with the intent to kill. The judge sentenced Shawn to ten years in prison, with the possibility of parole in three. There was an outcry by Shawn’s lawyer that the judge quickly silenced. Danny overheard the man whisper something about “immediately getting to work on an appeal” to Shawn’s parents, but that didn’t prevent Shawn from being led away in handcuffs by two deputies.
Danny’s heart thudded a dread-filled beat then; certain he was going to receive the same sentence as Shawn. But the jury only found him guilty of auto theft. Thanks to Chief Gage’s testimony, Danny was exonerated of any assault charges.
After the jury foreman sat back down, the judge stared at Danny over the top of his glasses. The silence was unnerving, but Danny refused to give into his urge to squirm and cast his eyes downward. For the first time in his life, Danny acted like a man by sitting still and not breaking the judge’s gaze.
What the judge had seen in him, Danny still wasn’t sure. Maybe it was Mr. Beckworth’s skills that caused the judge to be lenient with Danny. Or maybe it was Chief Gage’s testimony that helped Danny’s cause. Or maybe when he was sizing Danny up, the judge could see a young man who’d made a lot of stupid choices as a result of the company he kept, and who was sincerely eager for the chance to prove that he wasn’t like Shawn Reynolds. That he could think for himself, and make good decisions that would lead him to good places – or at the very least, keep him out of trouble.
Danny turned and smiled at his mother when she reached across the seat and squeezed his left hand. She looked tired and worn out, as if this recent ordeal had aged her twenty years, but she looked happy too, and relieved. So very relieved.
“You were lucky,” she said softly.
“I know.” He squeezed her hand in return, thinking of how right she was. He had been lucky. The judge sentenced him to a year of probation, a year of community service, job counseling, and he demanded that Danny get his GED.
“If you don’t get that GED in six months time, Mr. Wyatt, you and I will be seeing one another again right back here in this courtroom, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
After the judge was done speaking, Mr. Beckworth had explained to Danny that his probation officer could set up the job counseling for him, and direct him to the community college closest to his home where Danny could take the GED test, or take any courses he needed to in order to brush up for the test.
“I’m expecting good things from you, Danny,” Mr. Beckworth said. “I believe in you.”
They were only four simple words - “I believe in you.” But they meant more to Danny than Mr. Beckworth would ever know. It was the first time anyone had told him that. The first time anyone had voiced faith in him.
“I’ll be keeping in touch,” the attorney promised. “Checking up on you every so often to see how you’re doing.”
Danny had smiled. “I’d like that. Thanks. Thanks for everything.”
The man winked at Danny. “Not a bad day’s work for a guy who isn’t as smart as Shawn’s lawyer, huh?”
Danny laughed, shook Mr. Beckworth’s hand, promised he’d get his life on the right track, and said he’d look forward to hearing from Stan now and then.
Danny’s mom released his hand as the light turned green and she returned her attention to the road. When they were flowing smoothly in traffic again, Danny announced, “Mom…Mom, I’m gonna start pulling my weight at home.”
Mrs. Wyatt glanced at her son, but didn’t say anything.
“I mean it,” he promised. “I’m gonna change, Mom. I really am.”
And he was. No longer was Danny going to sleep until noon while his sister got up at six each weekday morning in order to report to her job as a receptionist in an office complex. No longer was Danny going to freeload off his mother, while his sister financially contributed to the household. No longer was Danny going to watch his mother work two jobs – the one she held Monday through Friday as a file clerk at a insurance firm, and then the ten hour shift she put in each Saturday as a cashier at the 7-11 a few blocks from their house, while he did nothing but hang out at the beach. It was past time for him to become the man of the family. Or at the very least, past time him for him to act like a man, instead of like a boy who was free to come and go as he pleased, and beg a few dollars off his mother or sister so he could eat lunch at McDonald’s.
“I wanna get a job, Mom. I wanna help you out with the bills just like Julie does.”
The woman’s tone was hopeful, but yet held doubts based on Danny’s past history.
“I’d like that. It would be good for you to have a purpose. To have someone who depends on you to be at work each day.”
“I know. Only…only I don’t know who would hire me. Especially now. ‘Cause of what happened when I was with Shawn.”
“I’m sure your probation officer will help you.”
“Yeah, I suppose, but I don’t wanna wait. I wanna get a job as soon as I can.”
His mother was quiet for a moment, her attention seemingly on her driving. When she finally spoke, she said, “I can talk to Mr. Burke. I think he’d give you a chance, Danny, if you’re honest with him about the trouble you’ve been in, and sincere about wanting to stay out of trouble.”
“I do wanna stay out of trouble.”
“He’s looking for two full time employees right now. The work won’t be too exciting, and he doesn’t pay more than minimum wage to start, but if you do a good job for him it might start you on your way to better things.”
Danny nodded. Mr. Burke owned the 7-11. His mother had always spoken highly of the man, saying he was easy to work for. A pleasant man who cared about his employees.
“What kinds of things would I have to do?”
“Check in inventory and stock shelves. Sweep and mop the floors. Wash the windows. Empty the trash. Clean the bathrooms and keep them stocked with paper towels and toilet paper. Greet customers and help them find what they’re looking for. Make coffee. Probably work behind the cash register eventually.”
“I can learn how to do those things. All of ‘em.”
“Don’t forget, you have to get your GED too.”
“I won’t. I’ll get it as soon as I can. I’ll tell Mr. Burke that.”
“All right. I’ll call him this evening and see if he’s got the time to interview you tomorrow.”
Danny smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
The young man fell silent, wondering what kinds of questions you were asked at a job interview, and how you should dress. He’d talk to Julie about it tonight after supper. She’d give him some pointers. And he’d ask her to trim his hair some more, so it didn’t hang below his collar in the back. Danny didn’t think he’d want to work at 7-11 for the rest of his life, but like his mother said, it might lead him to better opportunities. Once he proved he could be a valuable employee, then getting another job should be easier.
Danny had always liked to work with wood, and had taken carpentry classes in high school. Those were about the only classes he’d been serious about and done well in. A neighbor down the street did home remodeling, additions, and built garages and carports. He employed a small crew of two or three men. Maybe Mr. Anderson would be willing to hire Danny after he’d gotten his GED and was finished with all the requirements of his probation. Danny hadn’t spoken to the man in several years now, but when he was twelve and thirteen, he’d worked for Mr. Anderson picking up nails and scrap lumber from job sites, earning five dollars a day for a couple of hours of work during summer vacation. He probably would have continued to work for Mr. Anderson throughout his high school years if he hadn’t chosen to spend his summers hanging out with Shawn.
Danny wondered what path his life would have taken had he made other choices. Had he not followed Shawn around like a faithful puppy dog, willing to come at Shawn’s beck and call. Had he continued to work for Mr. Anderson, and graduated from high school.
The young man sighed as cars whizzed by them. Maybe there was no use in wondering. Maybe the only thing to do was go forward. To put the past behind him, be thankful he wasn’t sitting in prison with Shawn, and for the first time in his life, make his mother proud of him. Prove to her that he could be the man she could rely on, while showing Mr. Beckworth that yes, he could believe in him. That Danny was determined to turn his life around, and not take for granted this second chance he’d been granted.
It wouldn’t always be easy, this new leaf Danny was turning over. He knew that. Old habits die hard, as the expression went. But all he had to do was think of Shawn relentlessly beating Chief Gage with that crow bar, and then the police throwing him up against the hood of a car and screaming, “Where’s the boy? Where’s the boy?” and then the weeks he spent in a jail cell, wondering if he’d be tried for murder and sentenced to death for a crime a he didn’t commit. All Danny had to do was think of those things and then his determination kicked in. If he had to work at 7-11 for years and years to come…well, that was a far better alternative than sitting on death row.
Danny looked at his mother, silently promising that he’d make her life easier. That she wouldn’t have to worry about him any longer, and that once he started earning a weekly wage, she could quit her job at 7-11 if she wanted to. When she caught his eye, Danny smiled and vowed, “It’s gonna be okay, Mom. I promise things are gonna be okay from now on.”
The smile his mother gave Danny in return told him she believed what he said. A warm feeling filled Danny as he realized he was taking the first steps toward being the man of the family, and the person his mother could depend on to make her daily load a little lighter.
Chapter 68
Johnny woke with a start, roused from a sound sleep in his recliner by a succession of slamming car doors and Joe barking. He listened as the dog’s barks changed to the distinct “talk” Malamutes were known for. A combination of a wolf’s howl followed by a drawn out “Bow wow wow,” as though the dog was trying to convey something important. Joe only “talked” when he was familiar with Johnny’s visitors. Strangers received the deep, throaty bark that warned them to be wary until Joe’s master came out of the house and said everything was all right.
Although Chet hadn’t been willing to take gas money from Johnny, he did agree to Johnny buying him lunch after they’d left the courthouse. The conversation that took place during their meal centered mostly on work and Chet’s baby boy. Chet seemed to realize Johnny had no desire to talk about the trial after he asked, “What kinda time do you think those punks’ll have to serve?” and Johnny shrugged, saying nothing more than “I dunno,” before changing the subject.
They’d arrived back at Johnny’s ranch a few minutes after three. For as much as Johnny appreciated Chet’s assistance that day, he was glad the Irishman didn’t want to stick around. Maybe Chet could tell how tired Johnny was. Or maybe he wanted to stay ahead of rush hour traffic. Or maybe he was just anxious to get home to his wife and son like he said.
Johnny made his way through the barn after Chet left, seeing that Bob had been there sometime during the day and fed the animals. Johnny turned the horses out into the corral, then went into the house. He’d had Chet stop by the mailbox so he could grab his mail. Johnny tossed the mail on the kitchen counter, too tired to look through it. He’d just eased into his recliner and set his crutches against the wall when the phone rang. He was glad he had a phone on the end table next to him, because if there hadn’t been one there he would have just let it ring.
Johnny kept the call brief. Maybe too brief considering it was his father on the other end of the line, wishing him a happy birthday. But he didn’t feel like telling his dad about the trial, or talking about much of anything, other than to let Chad know that John had been found safe and was reunited with his family.
“So everything’s good then, right? Between you and Roy, I mean?”
“Yeah, Dad. Sure,” Johnny said with false confidence. “Everything’s fine.”
“And you’re doing okay?”
“Yep.” Johnny ignored the pain in his leg and arm as he gave that answer. “I see Dr. Brackett tomorrow. I think he’ll okay it for me to teach when the next training session starts.”
That answer seemed to relieve Johnny’s father. Johnny knew it was times like this when his dad didn’t like him living so far from White Rock. Times when Johnny could use help from his family. But because of Kim and Jessie’s deaths, White Rock was a place Johnny knew he’d never return to on a permanent basis. Too many ghosts from his past remained in that small town he’d once called home.
It was shortly after he’d said goodbye to his father that Johnny fell asleep in his chair. He hadn’t even stayed awake long enough to turn on the TV. As Joe continued greeting whomever had just pulled in his driveway, Johnny squinted at the VCR. The small green numerals read 6:45. He couldn’t believe he’d been asleep for three hours. Other than being a little bleary eyed and mentally foggy like anyone was when woken from a sound sleep, Johnny realized he felt a heck of a lot better than he had when he’d arrived home.
The paramedic grappled for his crutches, put the footrest on the chair in the “down” position, and struggled to his feet. He’d barely gotten himself turned toward the kitchen when he heard voices and someone knocking on his patio doors. He looked up. At any other time it would have been funny to see the DeSotos grouped together smiling and waving at him through the glass, their arms laden with grocery bags and boxes wrapped in birthday paper. Like the All-American family on some kind of a good-will mission. Which, in many ways, Johnny supposed they were. Nonetheless, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell them to come in, or tell them to go away. If it hadn’t been for John, who was crouched down in front of everyone, and although waving, looking so uncertain at Johnny, as if he wasn’t sure what place he now held in “Uncle Johnny’s” heart, if any place at all, the paramedic chief probably would have told Roy he didn’t feel like having company tonight.
With the aid of the crutches, Johnny made his way to the kitchen and maneuvered around the table and chairs. He unlocked the patio doors and slid one open. Before he could say anything, everyone yelled, “Happy Birthday!” in unison.
“What’s this all about?” Johnny asked as the family paraded past him, Roy leading the way.
“When you didn’t show up for your birthday party, we decided to bring the birthday party to you.”
Johnny stared at his friend’s back for a moment. The birthday supper that had been planned months earlier was scheduled to start at 6:00. It was only 6:45 now. Which meant Roy hadn’t waited until six o’clock to see if Johnny would show up. If he had, there was no way the DeSotos could have gathered together all the things they were pulling out of the grocery bags and arrived at Johnny’s ranch, which was almost an hour’s drive from their home, a mere forty-five minutes later. There was no doubt in Johnny’s mind that Roy knew he had no intention of showing up for the birthday celebration given recent events, and that sometime in the last couple of days Roy planned this surprise visit.
Chaos reigned for the next thirty minutes. A chaos that almost seemed staged, as though everyone, including Johnny, was afraid if they quit talking, pulling food from bags, searching the cabinets for dishes, glasses, and silverware, getting ketchup, mustard and pickles from the refrigerator, setting the table on the patio and lighting the grill, that they’d have to figure out where they still stood with one another. Where this friendship stood that had for so long been a part of their lives.
John romped in the back yard with Joe while Roy tended to the hamburgers and hot dogs he was grilling. Chris and Jennifer were in the kitchen with their mother, helping Joanne with whatever she directed – warming baked beans in the microwave, putting macaroni salad and coleslaw in serving bowls, mixing together a Jello salad, piling a plate with hamburger and hotdog buns, opening a bag of potato chips, making lemonade, and filling glasses with ice cubes.
Johnny stood on the deck with Roy, watching John. It didn’t take him long to figure out that the boy was only pretending to play with Joe. He kept casting mournful glances in Johnny’s direction before dropping his eyes to the ground again. Johnny used his crutches to get himself to the edge of the deck where the stairs started and sat down.
“Hey, Little Pally, come here for a minute.”
“I’m playin’ with Joe.”
“I see that, but since when is playing with Joe more important than sitting on my knee.”
“I can’t sit on your knee. You’re hurt.”
Johnny patted his uninjured left leg. “Sure you can. This one’s in tip top shape.”
Johnny sensed Roy watching him and John when the boy finally trudged toward the deck with slumped shoulders. John’s demeanor was shy and wary. The uncertainty Johnny had picked up on when the DeSotos first arrived now back in full force. It wasn’t lost on Johnny that John had been avoiding him. But then, Johnny had been avoiding John too, no less shy and uncertain about their future relationship than his namesake.
John climbed the steps, but didn’t immediately sit on Johnny’s lap like he normally would have. Johnny had to reach out, gently grasp John around the waist, and place the boy on his left knee. He held the child like that, neither one of them speaking, until John finally relaxed and leaned sideways into Johnny’s chest.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Johnny.”
Johnny reached a hand up and brushed it through the boy’s hair. “Sorry for what, kiddo?”
“For not helping you when those bad boys hurt you. For running away and hiding. Are you…” John swallowed hard and looked up at Johnny. “Are you mad at me?”
Johnny couldn’t hug the child close enough then. He rested his chin on the top of John’s head while assuring, “No, John. No. Never. I’m not mad at you. I thought maybe you were mad at me because I didn’t come for you like I promised I would.”
“How could you? Those bad boys hurt you.”
There were so many things Johnny wanted to say to the boy like, “You were my responsibility. I should have come for you no matter what.” Or, “You’re my best friend’s son. He trusted that I’d take care of you and get you home safely. I should have done that. I should have never gotten off the freeway.” But in the end, it was the five year old’s words that summed up the situation.
How could you? Those bad boys hurt you.
John was right. How could Johnny have come for him? He couldn’t have. And when he’d told John to hide, he’d had the boy’s best interests at heart. As Dr. Edwards would have assured Johnny, nothing was more important than that.
“I guess I couldn’t have, now could I?”
“Uh huh.”
“And there’s no reason for me to be mad at you because you did exactly what I said. You ran and hid.”
“But I would have karate chopped them guys for you if I’d stayed.”
Johnny chuckled. “I’m sure you would have, but that’s not what I wanted you to do, John. I wanted you to hide, because the most important thing to me was that you were safe, and the boys didn’t get a chance to hurt you.”
“But they hurt you.”
“Yeah, they did, but I’m okay now.”
“You don’t look okay.”
Again, Johnny chuckled. “Well, let’s put it this way, I’m gettin’ better every day, and now that you’re home, I know I’ll be back on my feet real soon.”
“So you can play with me?”
“I can’t think of a better reason than that.”
“Me neither.”
Johnny laughed and tweaked the boy’s nose. John threw his arms around his uncle’s neck, clinging to Johnny for several seconds, then pulling back enough to whisper in his ear.
“I had the best ‘venture, Uncle Johnny. I was real brave just like Katori.”
“I’m sure you were. Maybe someday you’ll tell me all about it, uh?”
John gave an indifferent shrug as he jumped off Johnny’s knee. “Maybe. But not right now. I gotta play with Joe some more. I think he’s been missing me.”
We all have, kiddo, Johnny thought, though what he said was, “I think so too.”
Johnny watched the boy scamper down the steps and race across the yard, Joe playfully nipping at his heels.
As Johnny stood and turned around, Roy smiled.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Helping him work through that. He’s been worried that you were mad at him ever since he got home.”
“I wasn’t. Far from it.”
“I tried to tell him that, but he needed to hear it from you.”
Johnny nodded his understanding. Just like he’d needed to hear from John that the boy wasn’t angry with him.
The paramedic leaned against the railing while Roy finished cooking their supper.
“You guys didn’t have to do this. Come over here tonight.”
“We wanted to. Like I said, if you weren’t coming to the party, the party was coming to you.” Roy started removing the food from the grill, piling it on a platter Chris had carried out to him. “Detective Salazar called me late this afternoon.”
“What’d he want?”
“To tell me the outcome of the trial.”
“What was the outcome?”
“Don’t you know?”
Johnny shook his head. “Didn’t stick around. I was done testifying when lunch time rolled around, so I told Chet I wanted to go.”
“So that’s how you got there.”
“Got where?”
“To the courthouse.”
“Yeah. Bummed a ride from good ole’ Chester B.”
“You could have bummed a ride from me, you know.”
“There was no reason for you to sit through it. John didn’t have to testify so…”
“So what?”
“So I didn’t see the point in pulling you away from your family by asking you to take me there. Make you sit through the bullshit about that Reynolds kid not knowing what he was doing.”
“Well, if nothing else, he’ll have a long time to think about “not knowing” what he was doing.”
“Whatta’ ya’ mean?”
“He got ten years.”
Johnny arched an eyebrow in disbelief. It wouldn’t have surprised him to find out the kid got off with nothing more than a slap to the wrist.
“And what about the other one? Wyatt?”
“A year of probation. Personally, I think he should be sharing a prison cell with Reynolds, but then, I’m just a fireman whose best friend was beaten half to death and whose child was missing all because of two kids out looking to cause trouble, so hey, what do I know.”
Despite Johnny’s perception at the courthouse that Danny Wyatt wasn’t necessarily a bad apple, he understood how Roy felt. When it came to justice, did the victim of a violent crime ever really get any? How could the sentence given to someone who beat you with a crow bar and left you for dead on a desert road ever be long enough? And was a year of probation long enough for the boy who’d stood by and watched it happen?
Johnny didn’t spend any more time mulling it over. In the end, the most important thing was that John came home unharmed. What Danny Wyatt or Shawn Reynolds did with their lives when their sentences were up was beyond Johnny’s control. He hoped neither of them ever hurt anyone else, but that too, was beyond his control.
The paramedic changed the subject then, asking Roy just what he knew about where John had been during the two and half weeks he was missing. Roy’s information was sparse, based solely on what John had said about finding an empty house and staying there until the mysterious Mrs. Quaker gave him a ride home.
“I don’t know if we’ll ever learn anything more than that,” Roy said as he set the platter of food in the center of the patio table. “Brackett gave John a clean bill of health, as did Dr. Edwards, so for now, Joanne and I are just thankful he’s back with us. If he ever tells us anything that’ll help the police discover where he was staying, or who might have given him a ride home, then I’ll call Salazar.”
Johnny thought over what Roy had said. He supposed it was possible that John came across an unlocked, empty home somewhere near Nipton. But like Roy, he was skeptical that John would stay there by himself for two weeks. Yet Brackett had given the boy a thorough examination, so Johnny knew that meant John hadn’t been sexually assaulted, or hurt in any other way. Maybe the boy had stayed by himself in an empty house for two weeks, or maybe someone with nothing other than good intentions helped John, but was afraid to come forward for reasons Johnny could only guess at, and would likely never know. It was like his mother used to say. Sometimes you just had to accept that old expression, “all’s well that ends well” and not wrack your brain trying to find answers to the mysteries life presents you.
Even if Johnny had wanted to wrack his brain a while longer, he wouldn’t have gotten the chance. Joanne and the older kids came out of the house carrying food, and Roy called to John, telling him to run inside and wash his hands. Ten minutes later, they were all seated around the table, Johnny’s birthday dinner officially underway. By the time the food had been eaten, a round of “Happy Birthday” sung, the candles on the cake Joanne had made blown out, and the presents opened, it felt almost like birthday dinners Johnny had enjoyed with the DeSotos in past years. Almost, but not quite, because Joanne wouldn’t look him in the eye throughout the meal and seemed uncomfortable. Johnny wondered if she didn’t want to be here, and if Roy had made her come.
After everyone had eaten all the cake they could hold, Roy and the kids carried the leftovers, silverware, dirty plates and glasses into the kitchen. Joanne dismissed them then, telling Roy to take John to the corral. The boy had been begging to ride one of the horses. Johnny told Chris which horse to saddle. Jennifer tagged along behind her father and brothers, probably because she didn’t want to get drafted to help her mother in the kitchen, more so than she really cared about watching John ride in circles around the small corral.
Joanne jumped up as soon as her family was gone. “I’d better get started on those dishes. By the time I’m finished we’ll need to head home and get John to bed.”
“I can help--”
Her eyes landed on him briefly, her smile fleeting. “No no. You just sit there and relax. It won’t take me long.”
She fled into the house before Johnny could say anything else. With a frustrated sigh he let her go, not wanting to force his presence on her. He turned slightly in his chair to watch Roy and the kids down by the corral. The paramedic remained outside in the heavy evening air until Joanne slid the patio door open.
“Johnny, your sister is on the phone. I hope you don’t mind that I answered it. I didn’t think you heard it ring.”
“No, I didn’t. Thanks.”
Johnny stood, grabbed his crutches, and entered the house. Joanne stepped back to give him room to get past her, then shut the patio doors again to keep the heat out since the air conditioner was running.
Reah’s call held the same purpose as Johnny’s father’s had – to wish him a happy birthday and inquire about his health. Because he had company, Johnny kept this call brief as well. He promised Reah he’d call her back the next day so they could catch up with one another.
Johnny had taken the call in the living room. When he entered the kitchen, Joanne was putting the last of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. She searched through his cabinets until Johnny said, “Soap’s in that bottom cabinet to the right of the sink.”
She turned around, startled. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”
The woman focused on the dishwasher again. Once she had soap in it and had it cycling, she wiped off the counter tops, then started putting things in bags that she was taking home. Her movements were restless and nervous. The easy conversation that normally flowed between Johnny and Joanne if they were alone in a room together didn’t come. Or at least not until Johnny finally concluded he was going to have to initiate it if he wanted an opportunity at rebuilding their friendship.
Like he’d realized after he’d gotten out of the hospital, his friendship with Roy included the friendship he shared with Joanne. He couldn’t have one without the other. Or at least without Joanne’s friendship, his friendship with Roy would never be quite the same as it had been prior to the camping trip.
“Jo…Jo, we need to talk.”
She looked at him through her eyelashes before dropping her gaze to the counter again. She reminded him so much of John at that moment that he almost laughed.
“Jo--”
“I know, Johnny. I know we need to talk.” She pushed the grocery bags aside so she and Johnny had a clear view of one another. “I’m so sorry about what I said in Dr. Edwards’ office last week. About Jessie. About not trusting you with my kids. I shouldn’t have…I don’t really feel that way.”
“You did at the time.”
“No, I--”
“Jo, you did at the time,” Johnny emphasized. “And that’s all right. Your son was missing. You said what any parent would have said to the guy who was in charge of him when he disappeared.”
“But there’s so much more to it than that. You tried to protect him. I knew that even then, but I just--”
“You were just worried that John was dead. You lashed out because of that. I would have done the same thing.”
She gave a sad smile as her eyes filled with tears. “No. No, Johnny, I don’t think you would have.”
“Don’t make me out to be some kinda saint, Jo, ‘cause I’m not. Roy’ll tell you that.”
That got a small smile from the woman.
“It’s like Dr. Edwards said. None of us can predict how we’d react when faced with danger to one of our children, and only seconds to make a decision about how to keep him safe. I…I have to believe what she said. That there’s no right or wrong about it. Unfortunately, they don’t hand out manuals at the hospital when a baby is born that tells you how to handle every situation you’ll run across when raising a kid, and about a thousand other situations you never imagined you’d run across.”
“Boy, isn’t that the truth.”
“Sure is.”
There was probably more that could have been said between them, but Johnny didn’t have the words, and Joanne didn’t seem to need them. She took a step forward, holding her arms open to him. He stepped into her embrace, hugging her and sensing the silent agreement between them that all was forgiven.
As Johnny released her, Joanne questioned, “Friends?”
He smiled and nodded. “Friends.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.”
There wasn’t much left to do in the kitchen, but Johnny helped Joanne with what he could. Once everything was in order and she had the bags lined up and ready for Chris and Roy to carry to the car, she tentatively proposed, “You know; the Benton Brothers Circus comes to town in January. I read an article about it in the paper the other day.”
“Yeah, guess it does, doesn’t it.”
“You used to take Chris and Jennifer every year when they were young.”
Johnny smiled at the memories. “They had a great time. It was always a lotta fun.”
“I think that’s the kind of outing John would enjoy. His birthday is right around the time the circus is here. If a…if a certain uncle wanted to buy tickets as a birthday present and take him, it would be okay with me and Roy.”
Johnny didn’t immediately say anything. He recognized this was Joanne’s way of offering an olive branch. Of letting him know she still trusted him with John, and wanted him to have the same kind of relationship with the five year old that he’d had with Chris and Jennifer.
Joanne must have taken Johnny’s silence as a sign of reluctance on his part. She rushed to say, “If you don’t want, I understand. I shouldn’t have said any--”
“No no. It’s a good idea. I wanna take him. He’ll love it.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“I’ll buy the tickets just as soon as they go on sale.”
Joanne held up a stern finger. “And nothing more than that.”
“Huh?”
“No other presents. That’ll be enough for his birthday from you.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
Joanne laughed. “You’re a rotten liar, John Gage. I can see right through you.”
“Hey, a kid only turns six once. There’s nothing wrong with making it a good celebration for him.”
“But there is something wrong with spoiling him to death.”
“That’s not my worry. I’m just fun old Uncle Johnny. I get to spoil him with no guilt attached.”
Joanne laughed again, then reluctantly agreed. Every kid should have a “fun old Uncle Johnny” to spoil the daylights out of him.
The conversation ended there, as the rest of the DeSoto family spilled into
the house. John told Johnny all about
his horseback riding adventure while Roy and Chris carried the bags to the
car. Joanne informed Johnny there were
plenty of leftovers in the refrigerator for him as she ushered John and
Jennifer toward the door. Johnny
followed the family outside, walking along on his crutches with Joanne, John,
and Jennifer until they arrived at the LaBaron.
Johnny patted Roy on the back as the fire captain crossed in front of him to
get in the car.
“Thanks, Pally. It was a good birthday.”
“Glad you liked it. I’ll call you later this week. See if you’re free for breakfast one morning after I get off duty.”
“That’d be great. I’ll look forward to it.”
Johnny said his goodbyes and thanks to Chris and Jennifer, then bent to accept the hug John wanted to give him. After the kids had scrambled into the back seat, Johnny turned to Joanne.
“Thanks for everything, Jo. The food. The cake. The presents. Cleaning up the mess.”
“You’re welcome.”
Johnny caught a glimpse of Roy’s face as he and Joanne hugged goodbye. The fire captain didn’t look nearly as surprised as he looked pleased. As though he, too, knew that in order for his friendship to go forward with Johnny, the friendship between Johnny and Joanne had to be intact as well.
Johnny leaned on his crutches with Joe by his side, waving goodbye to his friends as Roy backed the LaBaron down the driveway. He watched until they were safely on the highway and headed toward home before turning to enter the house.
As his mother’s words echoed in his head: All’s well that ends well, Johnny
started thinking ahead to January, and wondering just how soon the tickets for
the circus went on sale, and just what other presents a six year old boy might
like for his birthday.
Epilogue
“Here ya’ go, young man. This should help you find his place.”
He took the crude map drawn with ballpoint pen on a napkin. He studied it a moment before folding it and putting it in his shirt pocket.
“Thanks.
“You should find him at home. Doesn’t travel much beyond Nipton.”
“All right.”
“Hope he’s got something out there you’re looking for.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“If folks can’t find exactly what they want amongst the stuff he has here in my store, he’ll custom make just about anything in whatever colors you’re wantin’.”
“Okay. Thanks again.”
“ ‘Welcome.”
He walked out of the Nipton Trading Post, the August heat searing his skin and causing sweat to break out on his forehead and under his arms even on the short walk to his vehicle. He reached for the handle, jerked his hand back, then gingerly reached for the handle again and opened the door. He grabbed his sunglasses from the dashboard as he slipped behind the wheel. He started the engine, turning the air conditioning on “high” at the same time he turned on the radio. He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled onto Main Street and headed north out of Nipton. Soon, Main Street flowed into Nipton Road. As he traveled through the middle of the desert on that old two-lane highway, he tried to find something about the landscape that seemed familiar. Something that would help him remember that day with more clarity. But as he drove on, it all looked the same. Sand, Joshua trees, cactus. Landscape so flat and barren you could see the heat rising from it in shimmering waves.
Nonetheless, nostalgia swept over him so strongly he was almost transported back to that long ago vacation. He remembered how happy he was when Jennifer relinquished her spot in the Land Rover so he could ride home with Uncle Johnny. He remembered playing license plate tag with Uncle Johnny as they drove, and climbing in the cargo hold to bed down for a nap amongst the sleeping bags. He remembered waking up at some point, and begging Uncle Johnny to stop and get him something to drink. In his mind, that vacation marked one of the last times the man he still thought of as “Uncle Johnny” had been a part of their family. So many of his memories of the man were gone now. Not as strong or clear or plentiful as the memories Chris and Jennifer had of the man who had once been their father’s closest friend. Unlike his siblings, who were teenagers in 1985, he’d been only six when John Gage left Los Angeles. They’d never heard from again, and to this day, had no idea where he was, what he was doing, or how life had turned out for him.
For years, the few memories John DeSoto had of John Gage were intertwined with memories of a gruff, yet tender hearted old man who lived in a little house in the desert. As he’d gotten older, John had silently vowed he’d find that old man someday and thank him. Let him know everything had worked out all right, and that he’d kept his secret as promised. It had proven to be an easy vow to keep. Once he’d gotten to Nipton, all he’d had to do was say he was looking to have some throw rugs specially made, and was looking for a weaver named Cloud Jumper that he’d heard lived in the area. Maybe he was being foolish, though. Maybe Rudy wouldn’t remember him. Or maybe he was taking this trip his parents knew nothing about because the little boy inside of him was still searching for John Gage. Not that he thought he’d find Uncle Johnny out here in Nipton’s desert, but the memories…it was the memories he was hoping to revive.
John pulled the napkin out of his pocket, unfolded it using just one hand while keeping the other on the steering wheel, and glanced at it. He was headed off to Casper, Wyoming in three weeks to start his freshman year in college. He credited some of his interest in his major – forestry and environmental science, to John Gage. The long ago camping trips, even the ones when they hiked no farther than Uncle Johnny’s back yard, had sparked John’s interest in working outdoors with the hope that he’d eventually be employed by one of the large national parks in the western United States.
John slowed his red Camaro. The car wasn’t new by any means, but had been bought and then restored with money he’d been saving ever since he got his first paper route at the age of ten and had decided his father wasn’t going to pass Chris and Jennifer’s old Pinto onto him.
John gently braked while clicking on his left turn signal. If he understood the map correctly the big man at the Nipton Trading Post had drawn for him, he was supposed to turn on this road and keep driving until he came to the first house on the right. John thought maybe something about the road seemed familiar, but that might just be wishful thinking on his part. It was lonely, dusty, and desolate. Not like the roads he’d encountered just a few miles south of Nipton where new housing developments were springing up in the desert. Those roads had a fair amount of traffic on them. When he was in the Trading Post, John heard some of the men complaining about how they would have to pay more taxes to build onto their local schools in order to accommodate the sudden growth in the area caused by urbanites eager to leave the cities behind and raise their families in small communities.
“Can’t imagine why a man would wanna drive sixty miles one way to work ever’ day just soz he can raise his family out here,” one of the old men had said, “but seems to be what all them baby boomers are doin’ now a’ days.”
The building boom evidently hadn’t reached this end of Nipton yet. John didn’t see a house or another vehicle until he approached the spot marked with an X on his map. There was an ancient green Buick station wagon parked in the driveway right next to a tan pickup truck. John’s heart beat faster. He remembered the truck! He was sure he remembered the truck. And the shed beyond it. He remembered being in that shed! He’d helped Rudy weave rugs in there.
John swung his car into the driveway, parking it behind the pickup. As he got out, an old yellow dog lumbered toward him barking, yet wagging its tale and wiggling its butt at the same time.
“Not much of a watch dog there, are ya’, fella,” John chuckled as he bent to pet the dog that he guessed was part yellow Lab and part…Basset Hound maybe? It had the long floppy ears of a Basset Hound, and the jowls of a Basset, and was probably half the size of a pure bred Labrador Retriever. Maybe forty pounds, if he weighed that much.
As John straightened, an old man with gray hair tied into a braid that reached the middle of his back stepped from the shadows of the front porch calling, “Katori! Katori!”
~ ~ ~
Rudy often whiled away the afternoon hours now sitting on his porch with his faithful dog by his side. The dog was a present from Farley thirteen years ago. It started out as kind of a joke. Farley said since Rudy had pretended to have a puppy, then that must mean he needed one to keep him company. Rudy pitched a fit over the pup at first, saying he didn’t want something around that required as much care and attention as a puppy did. But Farley knew him too well. He knew coming back home to an empty house after returning John DeSoto to Carson was hard on Rudy. Rudy had known it was wrong to get so attached to the boy, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. A week after Rudy took John home, Farley got him the puppy from the shelter in Barstow. Within three days of the puppy’s arrival, Rudy’s heart had been won over by the playful little rascal and he’d christened him Katori, after the spunky boy who’d been such a big part of his life for two short weeks.
Rudy had been lucky to have a loyal friend like Farley. If it wasn’t for Farl, Rudy might have gotten caught with the boy and gone to prison. For a couple of weeks after he’d returned John home, all anyone in Nipton talked about was the boy’s mysterious disappearance just outside of their town, and then his equally mysterious reappearance at his parents’ house. Fortunately, the police were never able to uncover anything that led them to a suspect, and by the time fall arrived that year, the gossip in Nipton had turned to other things, and John DeSoto was forgotten.
Farley was gone now. He’d died three years ago, in July of 1994. Rudy still missed the old goat something fierce. His days were a lot longer and lonelier without Farl stopping by to pick a fight with him, grouse at him, or ride with him into Nipton for breakfast.
Farley had willed Rudy the Ford truck that now sat in his driveway. He’d also willed Rudy the TV set, two air conditioners, washer, dryer, refrigerator, microwave, and stove that were in his house. Rudy had told Farley’s family he didn’t need those things, but Farley’s brothers insisted he have them. Farley’s will dictated that his house be sold and the proceeds split amongst his siblings. But he’d specifically named the contents he wanted Rudy to have, and had his lawyer add that no one was to accept any argument from Rudy about it.
So now Rudy had the “modern” appliances Farley had always taken such pride in, an air conditioner in his living room and one in his bedroom, and the TV set, along with the rotor and antenna tower. Six of Farley’s nephews brought everything over one Saturday a few weeks after Farley’s death and set it all up for Rudy, then removed his old washer, refrigerator and stove and took them to a junk yard. Rudy thought someone could get a few more years of use from his stuff and said he thought it should be given to a second hand store, but Farley’s nephews laughed and one of them said, “Rudy, you let us take care of these old things. Go in and enjoy everything Uncle Farley left you. That’s what he’d want you to do.”
Rudy hadn’t thought he’d ever use the air conditioners, TV set, or microwave, but time had proven him wrong. He was seventy-five years old now. The desert heat bothered him in ways it hadn’t when he was younger. Though he’d never admit it to anyone, it was nice to walk into a cool house after a morning of rock hounding, and to have a cool bedroom to sleep in at night. Once he’d figured out how to use the microwave, he’d discovered the convenience of cooking or warming food in mere minutes. And the TV – well, it had taken him two months to even turn it on, but now he had several favorite shows he refused to miss, and it sure helped to fill in the hours between supper and when he went to bed. He’d get in his easy chair and put the footrest up, then Katori would climb in his lap and lay across his legs sleeping while Rudy petted him and watched TV until the ten o’clock news ended.
Aside from those things and the truck, Farley left Rudy his family, as odd as that sounded. Nelda and Olen drove from Bakersfield every couple of months to check on him, just like they used to check on Farley. Last year, they insisted he get a telephone. Rudy thought it was nonsense and even said so, until Nelda pointed out he’d reached an age where it was dangerous for him to live without a telephone.
“What if you get sick and need to call for an ambulance?” she’d asked. “Or what if someone comes snooping around here in the middle of the night and you need to call the police. Rudy, it’s just not safe. This is 1996, not 1936. Times have changed. You need to have a phone.”
So, he’d given in and gotten a phone too. Now Nelda called him once a week just to say hi and make sure he was all right. She still insisted he come to Bakersfield for Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. When the day came that he couldn’t make the drive any longer by himself, there was no doubt one of Farley’s nephews would be sent to get him.
It was good though, being a part of Farley’s family. Rudy’s sister Ellie was gone now as well. She’d died two years ago in Chicago, leaving Rudy as the only member of his immediate family, other than her three sons whom he hadn’t seen in years, and would never see again. He hadn’t gone to Chicago for the funeral. He’d had no desire to deal with the hassles of air travel at his age, and it was too far for him to drive. He carried Ellie’s memory inside of him now, just like he still carried the memories of Mary and Woody. It wasn’t easy being the last one left. He was the oldest. He should have gone first.
Rudy gazed down at Katori, sleeping by his chair on the porch. He’d probably be the next one to go. Another reason for Rudy to cry alone in his house, grieving for something he loved that had left him. He’d been thinking recently of driving to Barstow and getting a puppy. He figured saying goodbye to Katori when the end came would be a little easier if he had another canine companion. And as Nelda pointed out, if he was going to continue living out here by himself, he needed a dog that would bark a warning when strangers came, or bite if he sensed a man’s intentions weren’t good.
Katori was doing his job now, barking a warning because a stranger had just pulled up in a red Camaro. Rudy watched as the young man climbed from his car. He stepped from the porch, calling his dog back to him.
~ ~ ~
At first John thought the man remembered. He thought the man was calling to him. But
then he realized Rudy was speaking to the dog.
John met Rudy halfway across the dirt yard.
“Don’t mind Katori. He won’t hurt you.”
John took off his sunglasses, slipping them into his shirt pocket. “Seems like a nice dog.”
“He is. Like me, his young years are behind him now, but he’s still a good boy.”
“Unusual name. Katori. Where’d you come up with that?”
“It’s an Indian name. I…I had a friend once who went by that name.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Is there something I can do for ya’, son?”
“Uh…yeah. Yeah. A guy at the Trading Post sent me out here. I’m looking to buy some throw rugs for my dorm room. I’m starting college in a few weeks. I didn’t see anything in his store in the colors I want, so he said I should come here. Said you might have extras stacked on a shelf, or maybe you could make me what I’m looking for.”
“Sure. Come with me to the shed. I got about two dozen of ‘em out there that I haven’t taken to Bob yet.”
“Okay.”
John followed Rudy to the shed, Katori at their heels. The shed was just as stifling hot as John remembered it being, but also just as neat and organized. He saw the loom setting in the center of the building, and remembered the calloused hands on top of his, showing him how to make the machine work.
John looked through the stack of rugs on the shelf. He picked out two that would go well with the dark blue of the comforter and curtains he’d just bought last week, then paid Rudy the fifteen dollars he asked for them.
John pointed at the baskets on another shelf. “You weave baskets too.”
“Yep.”
“Someone taught me how to weave them a long time ago.”
“Really?”
John nodded. “And these rocks.” He moved to the shelf of rocks. “I used to go rock hounding.”
“Not too many people know what rock hounding is.”
“No, but I do. I did it for a couple of weeks once with a good friend of mine.” John picked up a jagged, dirty mossy brown rock. “This is a geode, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
John looked at Rudy and smiled. “My friend told me that what the outer shell looks like doesn’t matter. It what’s inside that counts.”
John thought he saw something cross the old man’s lined faced, but he wasn’t sure. The awakening of an old memory perhaps? John nodded toward the dog sitting at Rudy’s feet.
“His name – Katori, it means He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes.”
Rudy paled and swallowed hard, but didn’t say anything.
John smiled, wanting to put the old man at ease. He didn’t come out here to scare him, or make him think that after all of these years he was going to cause trouble for him.
“I’ve kept our secret. Some of the memories are pretty dim now, but I’ve never forgotten how a man named Rudy took care of me, or that he and his friend Farley hatched a plan to get me back home.”
“Farley’s gone now. He died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I wanted to thank him too.”
“He would have liked that. To see you again, I mean. We talked about you a lot. “So…uh…things have been good for you, Katori?”
John grinned. “Yeah, things have been good for me. I’ve got a great family. I’m starting college in three weeks.”
Rudy smiled in return. “Last time I saw you, you were getting ready to start kindergarten.”
“It’s been a long time since kindergarten.”
“Yeah, it has been. A long time.”
John looked at his watch.
“I’d better get back on the road. When I left this morning, I told my folks I’d be gone all day shopping for things for my dorm room. I’d better show back up at home by dark with at least a few bags of stuff in my car.”
“You’d better,” Rudy agreed.
John shifted the rugs to his left arm and held out his right hand. Rudy grasped the hand, squeezing.
“Thank you, Cloud Jumper. I’ve wanted to say that for years. Thank you. I had a lot of fun while I stayed with you. I’ve never forgotten it.”
“And I’ve never forgotten you, Katori. Thank…thank you for hiding in my car that day and bringing a little ray of sunshine to an old desert rat’s life.”
“You’re welcome.”
John turned and walked toward his car. After he’d put the rugs in the back seat, he straightened and looked at the house.
“Hey, Cloud Jumper!”
“Yeah?”
John pointed to the antenna. “I see you finally got yourself a television! It’s about time!”
The old man was still laughing as John climbed in his car. He gave a beep of the horn, waved, and backed out onto the road. A half hour later John was traveling toward home on I-15. He’d done what he’d set out to do. Thank a man named Rudy for being a friend to him at a time when he was a lost and scared little boy; and in the process, for just a little while, he’d recaptured the memories of a family vacation back in 1984, when Johnny Gage was still a part of their lives, and John never dreamed anything could ever happen to change that.
~ ~ ~
Doctor Hepzibah Edwards was first
created and brought to life by Kenda in a collaborative story entitled: Surviving
the Darkness. Surviving the Darkness was written by the group SIA.
Part One:
http://web.archive.org/web/20051210133927/lovegage.topcities.com/fanfiction/Siajohnn.html
Part Two
http://web.archive.org/web/20050201002623/lovegage.topcities.com/fanfiction/Siajohnn2.html
~ ~ ~