Chapter 16

By Chris DeSoto’s watch, it had taken almost an hour and a half for the helicopter to reach Loma Linda University Medical Center.  This had been Chris’s first ride in a chopper, but he couldn’t enjoy the experience.  He was too worried about John and Johnny, his mind skipping from one to the other, then to his mother and sister.  Like Roy, Chris wished he could be in two places at once.  No, make that three. He wanted to be with Johnny, but he also wanted to be with his father to offer whatever support he could when Dad broke the news to Mom about John.  Aside from those two places, Chris also wanted to be a member of the search party that had taken off across the desert to look for John as the chopper lifted into the air.   

Because he couldn’t be in three places at once, Chris focused on the task he’d insisted upon – being with Uncle Johnny.   Several times during the flight to Loma Linda, Johnny regained consciousness, though Chris recognized he was semi-conscious at best.  The man was confused, and kept asking the same questions over and over again in a weak disjointed voice. 

“Where…where ’m I?”

“Wha’…what ’m I…what ’m I doin’ here?”

“Wha’…what happened?”

Sometimes Johnny seemed to recognize Chris when the paramedics would ask Chris to talk to him, and sometimes he didn’t.  He never once asked about John, or gave Chris any clues as to where John might be, but several times he called for Chris’s father, and then grew agitated when the man didn’t answer him.   During those moments, Chris got the impression Johnny’s mind was somewhere in the past.  Somewhere during the years he and Dad had worked together out of Station 51.

When they arrived at the hospital, a trauma team was waiting to whisk Johnny into the emergency room. The paramedics accompanied Johnny, filling the doctors in on his condition as they ran along beside the gurney. Chris followed, but a nurse blocked his entrance into the treatment room.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there.”

Chris said the first thing that came to mind in an effort to get inside. “He’s my uncle.”

“That doesn’t matter. You still can’t go in there.  But since you’re his nephew, I have a way you can be of help.”

“How?”

“Come with me to the admittance desk.  We’ll need whatever information you can give us about your uncle.”

“Will a doctor let me know what’s going on?”

“As soon he can, yes. But it might be a while.”

Chris glanced at the closed door, then reluctantly followed the nurse.  She turned him over to a matronly looking woman about the age of Chris’s Grandma DeSoto.  She was seated behind a desk with a big placard screwed to the front that read: Admittance.   The round, ample busted gray haired clerk wore a hospital nametag that identified her as Mrs. Esther Sanders. Glasses hung from a chain around her neck that she perched on her nose as she began taking information from Chris.

Considering he wasn’t really Johnny’s nephew, Chris thought he did a good job of answering the questions Mrs. Sanders asked him that came from a form she kept referring to.  Anything he didn’t have knowledge of she took in stride, as though she wouldn’t expect a nephew to know his uncle’s social security number, blood type, or if his uncle was allergic to any medications. Things like Johnny’s marital status, address, phone number, middle name, and birth date, Chris was able to give without hesitation.

“Employer?”

“Pardon?”

The woman looked up from the form. “Who’s your uncle’s employer?”

“Oh…uh, the Los Angeles County Fire Department.  He’s their chief paramedic instructor.”

The woman nodded as she wrote that information down on the admittance paper. “Then I assume there will be a health insurance card in Mr. Gage’s wallet?”

“Probably. But if there’s not one, I can find out from my dad who their insurance carrier is.”

“Your dad?”

“He works for the fire department, too.”

Mrs. Sanders smiled. “Keeping it all in the family, is that it?”

Chris thought of how much he wanted to join the fire department despite his father’s wishes against it, and gave the woman a half-hearted smile in return. 

“Yeah, guess you could say that.”

Mrs. Sanders referred to the form once again.

“Next of kin?”

“Um…” Chris hesitated a moment.  Technically, Johnny’s next of kin was his father, Charles. But Chris didn’t know Chad’s phone number, and besides, Chris wasn’t certain if the hospital would still be willing to give him information about Johnny if Chad was listed as next of kin. 

“Uh…I guess that would be me and my father…if you can list two people, that is.”

“I can.”

“Okay.  Then I’m Chris DeSoto.  My father is Roy.”

“And your father is related to Mr. Gage how?”

Chris almost said, “They’re brothers,” until he realized the issue of different last names might cause the clerk to question how the relationship was possible. Therefore, Chris chose the most logical answer he could think of.

“Brother-in-law. My dad is Uncle Johnny’s brother-in-law.”

Evidently a brother-in-law and nephew were close enough for next of kin, because Mrs. Sanders wrote down Chris’s father’s name and Chris’s name without giving the young man a hassle. 

Chris then had to give his address and phone number, along with his father’s.

“The same,” Chris said with a smile regarding the address and phone. “I can save you some writing on that one.”

“And is your father here too?”

“No…no, not right now.  He might be here later, but he had to take care of some things with the police first.”

The woman looked up at the word “police.”  Because Chris didn’t want her to think Johnny was in some kind of trouble with the law, he hurried to explain, “My uncle was carjacked. That’s how he was hurt.  The guy who took his vehicle beat him up.”

“Oh.  I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks,” Chris said. He didn’t add that his younger brother had apparently been kidnapped by the carjacker, too.  He didn’t have the heart to go into that right now, and besides, he figured he might have to talk to Uncle Johnny’s doctor about it later.  There was no use in telling the story more times than he had to.

“Does your uncle have any pre-existing medical conditions that you know of?”

“Like what?”

“Diabetes?  Heart disease? High blood pressure?”

“No, I don’t think so.  But you could contact his doctor to find out.”

“And who would that be?”

“Kelly Brackett.  He’s Chief of Emergency Services at Rampart General Hospital in Los Angeles.”

The woman wrote that information on the form next to the words: Patient’s Physician.

“Are you gonna call him?”

“I don’t know. That’ll be up to your uncle’s doctor to decide.”

“But shouldn’t someone let Dr. Brackett know that my uncle is here?”

“Someone will contact him if need be.”

“But--”

“This looks like all the information I need,” Mrs. Sanders said in way of dismissal as she glanced over the form one last time. “You can wait over there.  A doctor will be with you as soon as possible.”

“How long do you think it’ll be?”

“I don’t know.  It could be a while.”

“How long is a--”

The phone on the desk rang, interrupting Chris.  Mrs. Sanders smiled at him as she picked it up.

“Please have a seat and wait, Mr. DeSoto.  Someone will be with you as soon as possible.”

Chris sighed as the woman focused her attention on the phone call.  He turned toward the waiting area where several people sat staring up at a TV set mounted in one corner of the wall. Chris headed in that direction, but kept on walking when he spotted a bank of pay phones farther down the corridor located between the men’s and women’s restrooms. 

The young man dug in the right front pocket of his blue jeans for change.  He had to call information first, in order to get Rampart’s phone number.  Since he didn’t have a pen or paper, he was forced to repeat it to himself over and over as he fished for more change and dialed.  When a receptionist picked up the ringing line and said, “Good afternoon. Rampart General Hospital. How may I help you?” Chris asked to be connected to the nurses’ desk in the Emergency Room.

“Just a moment, please.”

As Chris waited for the call to go through he prayed, Please let Dixie answer.  Please let Dixie be on duty.  Please let it be Dixie who answers the phone.

“Emergency Room.  Nurse McCall speaking.”

Thank God. Something’s finally going right.

“Dixie, this is Chris DeSoto.”

There was a second of hesitation, as though Dixie’s confused brain had to process who the caller was.

“Oh…Chris. Hi!  What can I do for you?  Didn’t you go on that camping trip with your family and Johnny?”

“I did. That’s why I’m calling.”

Dixie chuckled. “What happened? Did Johnny burn a hand roasting marshmallows, or fall into a patch of poison ivy?  Do I need to make an appointment for him to see Dr. Brackett?”

“He’s already seeing a doctor.  I’m at Loma Linda Medical Center with him.”

Dixie’s humor was replaced by an incredulous, “What?”

As quickly as he could without stumbling over his words, Chris explained what had happened, including the fact that John was missing. He then gave Dixie a run down of Johnny’s injuries based on what his father and the paramedics had concluded during their examinations of the man.

“I haven’t talked to a doctor yet though, so I don’t know any more than that.  I just gave an admittance clerk a bunch of information, including Dr. Brackett’s name as Uncle Johnny’s physician, but I don’t know if anyone’s gonna call him or not.  The clerk made it sound like that was up to the doctor who’s treating him.”

“It probably is.  Protocol in that regard varies from hospital to hospital.  Listen, Chris, you hang on the line while I try and track down Kel – Dr. Brackett.”

“How long will that take?  I’m at a pay phone, and I don’t have much change left.”

“Okay, then give me its number and wait right there. Either Dr. Brackett or I will call you back within ten minutes.  I promise.”

Chris read the number off the round dial in the center of the phone. 

Dixie read the number back to the young man.  When Chris confirmed she’d written it down correctly, she instructed again, “Wait there. One of us will call you back soon.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye, Chris.  Oh…and, Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry.  Everything’ll be all right.”

Chris knew Dixie had no special powers that would make her promise come true, but he didn’t resent her for trying to reassure him, like he might have resented those words if they’d come from a stranger.  Instead, he knew they came from her heart.  From all the years she’d known his father and Uncle Johnny, and had grown to love them like a person loves close and treasured friends.

“Thanks, Dixie,” Chris said, “for everything,” then broke the connection.  He did as he’d promised the nurse and waited by the phone.  He looked up and down the corridor, finally spotting a sign that pointed the way to the cafeteria.  If he needed more change later for further phone calls, he could go in there and get some dimes and quarters for the dollar bills he had in his wallet. 

As Dixie had promised, Chris didn’t have to wait long before the phone rang.  He picked it up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Chris?”

The young man recognized Kelly Brackett’s voice.

“Yeah, Dr. Brackett, it’s Chris.”

“You’re on my dime now, Chris, so take your time and tell me everything that happened.”

Chris took a deep breath, then started his story. He told the doctor they’d been headed home from their vacation that day, and how John was riding with Johnny, and how Johnny notified them on the CB that he had a flat tire and would catch up to them in Baker after he’d changed it.

“But he never showed up,” Chris said.  “So Dad and I finally went looking for him.”

Chris relayed everything that occurred after that, and finished by saying, “Dad had to go back to Baker to let Mom and Jennifer know what happened, so I flew here to Loma Linda with Johnny.”

“What’s Johnny’s condition now?”

“I don’t know.  He was pretty out of it on the trip here.  Sometimes he knew who I was, but sometimes he didn’t.  He kept asking the same questions over and over again, too – like where he was and what happened. It didn’t matter how many times he was given the answers, a few seconds later, he’d ask again.”

“Considering he took a whack to the skull with a tire iron,” Brackett said grimly, “that doesn’t surprise me.”

 A heavy silence lingered for a few seconds before Dr. Brackett spoke again.

“Thanks for filling me in, Chris.  As soon as I hang up with you, I’ll call the hospital.  I’ll find out who’s treating Johnny, and make sure I get to speak with him as soon as possible.  If all else fails, I have an old friend on staff there in cardiology. I can get in touch with Sam if I need him to untangle some red tape for me.”

For the first time since leaving Nipton with Johnny, Chris felt a small measure of relief.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it. Dad will, too.”

“As soon as I know more, I’ll get in touch with you.  Are you going to be hanging around the ER for a while?”

“Yeah.  I don’t have a way to leave here until Dad can come get me. Right now I have no idea when that’ll be, so I might be camping out on the waiting room couch tonight.”

“All right.  Let the nurses at the ER desk know who you are, and that you’re waiting for my call.  If you leave the area for any reason, let them know where they can find you.”

“Okay.”

“Hang in there, Chris.  I know your dad will be proud of the way you’ve handled yourself today.”

Chris smiled a little. “Thanks.”

Chris said goodbye to the physician, then hung up the phone. He made a stop in the men’s room before heading back to the waiting area.  He took his wallet out as he walked and counted the bills inside.  He had enough money for supper this evening, and for three meals the next day if he was conservative with his choices.  Chris didn’t allow himself to think beyond that.  By then, John would be found and his parents would be here. Chris clung to that thought, not allowing himself to acknowledge there were other possibilities that were a lot more frightening and heart breaking.

The young man stopped at the ER nurses’ desk.  The woman standing behind the counter wasn’t the same woman who had kept Chris from entering the trauma room, so he explained who he was, what patient he was here with, and that he was expecting a call from Doctor Kelly Brackett, John Gage’s physician at Rampart Hospital in Los Angeles.  The nurse looked at Chris with an expression that plainly said she wondered how someone so young had the kind of connections that meant one of the most well-known doctors in the state of California was going to call him directly, but she simply smiled and said, “All right, Mr. DeSoto. Thank you for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome.”

Chris wandered back to the waiting room. He leafed through magazines in a three-tiered wooden rack mounted on the wall, pulled out a month-old issue of Time, and plopped to a chair.  He paged through the magazine without paying attention to any of the articles, his mind on his missing baby brother, and the injured man in the trauma room down the hall.

 Chapter 17

Roy glanced at the giant thermometer across the street as he climbed from the truck’s cab.  The temperature had dropped four degrees since he’d last been in Baker.  Still, 116 didn’t feel much cooler than 120 had. 

Roy swiped at the sweat that formed on his brow the second he stepped into the heat.  He stood next to the truck; almost rooted to the sweltering pavement, because he had no idea how to tell Joanne what had transpired since he’d left. 

Before the captain was able to come up with some way to gently break the news to his wife, he heard the tell tale squeak of a motel room door opening.  He didn’t have to look to know it was the door to the room he and Joanne were renting.

“Roy?”

“Dad?”

The voices were identical in both pitch and tone, and Roy could clearly identify worry as being the strongest emotion.  At any other time, he would have found it amusing to hear how much Jennifer sounded like her mother – a fact his teenage daughter would vehemently deny.  But right now Roy found nothing amusing.  He took a deep breath and stepped from the shadow of the camper top.

Joanne’s eyes flicked from her husband to the cab.

“Chris? Where’s Chris? Is Chris with John?”

Roy hated to dash the hope on his wife’s face.  Without Joanne saying so, Roy knew she’d jumped to the happiest conclusion she could latch on to – that Johnny and John had been found safe, and that Roy had left Chris behind to keep an eye on John for whatever reason. 

Before Roy could say something…or maybe before he forced himself to say something, Joanne turned to Jennifer.  Her speech was so rapid it was almost decipherable, as though if Roy couldn’t get a word in edgewise, then no bad news could be delivered.

“Jen, get our things together.  We’ll leave with Dad to pick up John just as soon as we get checked out and--”

“Jo…” Roy swallowed hard as he put an arm around his wife. “Jo, let’s go into the room so we can talk.”

Hope was replaced with fear. 

“Roy?”

“We need to talk,” was all Roy would say as he put an arm around his daughter, too, and walked his wife and his teenager into the room. 

Jennifer reached for the remote control on the table and aimed it at the TV. Alex Trebek, in the midst of hosting an early evening round of Jeopardy, faded to blackness.  Roy shut the door, blocking out the noise from the highway.  The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room as Roy pulled a chair out for Joanne, and then sat in the chair across from hers.  Jennifer perched on the edge of the bed closest to the table, her body taut with nervous anticipation.

“Roy…Roy, where’s John? What’s…what’s happened?”  Tears sprang to Joanne’s eyes.    “Something’s happened.  I can tell by the way you’re acting that something bad’s happened.  Were they in a car accident?  Oh please, don’t tell me he’s…that he’s…that…”

The distraught mother couldn’t finish her sentence, but then, she didn’t have to.  Roy’s years as a paramedic meant he’d sat through scenes like this one before.  They always ended with a mother asking if her child was dead, though somehow she already knew the answer to that question was yes.  Just like Joanne seemed to sense the answer was yes.  Roy prayed that wouldn’t turn out to be the case when all was said and done.  He hoped mother’s intuition, or whatever you wanted to call the sixth sense women had regarding their children, wasn’t accurate this time.

Roy shook his head. “I…I don’t know, Joanne.”

“You don’t know?  What do you mean you don’t know?  Where’s--”

“That’s just it.  We still don’t know where John is.”

“But…what…how--”

Roy reached across the table and took his wife’s hand in his.  He gently rubbed her soft skin with his thumb.  “The Land Rover is missing, and so is John.  It looks like Johnny was carjacked while he was changing the tire.”

“It looks like!  Well what did Johnny have to say about it?  Where is he?  Where’s Chris?  How can Johnny not know where John is? He must know where he is.  John was with him for God’s sake!  How could he not--”

“Johnny wasn’t in any condition to tell me anything.  He was severely beaten with the tire iron.  He was flown by helicopter to Loma Linda Medical Center.  Chris went with him.”

Joanne stared at her husband in disbelief as the circumstances surrounding John’s disappearance began to sink in.

“Oh God…oh God.  Oh no. Oh God no. They took John, didn’t they? Whoever stole the Land Rover has John, don’t they?”

“We don’t know that for certain, though the police think it’s possible John was sleeping in the back and that whoever took the Rover never saw him.  They told me these guys don’t usually get violent.  Usually they just take what they’re after and high tail it.”

The woman’s eyes widened.  “They don’t get violent! You just said they beat Johnny so badly he’s being flown to a trauma center.  What makes the police think they won’t hurt John too?”

“They just don’t think it’s likely.  He’s just a little boy.  He--”

“Little boys get hurt, too, Roy. Crazy men can hurt little boys just as easily as they can hurt little girls.”

“I know, I know,” Roy acknowledged, briefly closing his eyes and trying to block out the image of a mangled little body tossed on the side of a desolate road somewhere.

“Where were they found?”

The captain opened his eyes and focused on his wife again. 

“Nipton Road.”

“Nipton Road?” the woman questioned.

Roy knew his wife had never traveled that road, any more than he had until a few hours ago, but he also knew she was at least familiar with the location of the exit sign that advertised it. 

Joanne asked, “What was Johnny doing out there?”

“I don’t know.”

“It goes right through the desert, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“So why did he get off the freeway?  What made him take that road?  Why would he take John out to the middle of nowhere?  Why--”

“Jo, I don’t know.  The town of Nipton is just a few miles south of where Johnny was found. Maybe John had to go to the bathroom. Maybe he wanted something cold to drink, or some ice cream.  Maybe he wanted a souvenir of some sort.  Maybe Johnny was taking some kind of short cut I don’t know about. Or maybe John distracted him and he took that exit without intending to.  I just don’t know.”

“Then why didn’t Johnny tell you where he was when he called on the CB to say he had a flat tire?”

Roy had been wondering that himself, but even so, he had no concrete answer for his wife.

“Hon, I wish I had an answer for you, but right now I don’t.  Maybe he…I don’t know, if he had taken that exit because John was bothering him to buy ice cream or something, maybe Johnny didn’t want to say because he knew John would be in hot water with us for causing a delay.  Or maybe Johnny just didn’t think it was important.  He’d told us he’d meet us in Baker, he had the CB so he could contact us if he needed to…he probably thought he’d get the tire changed and be back on the road in fifteen minutes.”

“But that’s not what happened.”

Roy squeezed his wife’s hand again as he looked into the eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “No…no.  Evidently that’s not what happened.”

Jennifer let her parents sit in silence drawing comfort from one another for a minute before asking in a shaky voice, “Dad…Dad, what are the police doing to find John?”

“They’ve put out a state-wide APB on John and the Land Rover.  Since it’s not a common vehicle, they think they’ll run across it soon.”

“But what if they’re not still in the state?” Joanne asked.  “What if they’re already in Nevada? Or Arizona? What if…”

“They’re searching into Nevada and Arizona by plane, Jo, and all over this area too.  When I left, some of the cops were searching the desert near where Johnny was found.”

“The desert?”  Joanne paled. “Oh, Roy…Roy, if John somehow wandered into the desert…”

“If he did, he’ll be found,” Roy said with a firm confidence that hid his doubts and fears.  “He’ll be found safe, Jo.  No matter where they locate him, I know he’ll be found unharmed.”

“What about Johnny?” Joanne asked, finally able to briefly focus her worry on their friend.  “Will he pull through? Will he be okay?”

“Until Chris calls, I can’t give you a definite yes or no.  I’m most concerned about the head trauma he suffered.  I don’t think he has a skull fracture, but even so, a head injury can cause a lot of problems that don’t always show up initially.  I wish he was at Rampart.”

“I’m sure the doctors at Loma Linda are good.”

Roy smiled, grateful that his wife had said what he needed to hear.  “I’m sure they are too, but it’s not the same as having him at a hospital where I know the staff.”

Joanne nodded her understanding.  “What about other injuries?”

“He had some broken ribs, and I think his left arm was broken too.  His right knee was swollen and bruised, his back was bruised pretty badly from the beating, and he was badly sunburned.  He laid out there quite a while without help, and then it took almost an hour for the paramedics to arrive after Chris and I got there. He…well, Johnny’s going to have a few rough weeks ahead of him.”

“It’s…it’s just like that time with the man,” Jennifer whispered.  “Just like that time.”

Roy and Joanne exchanged concerned glances.  They knew what time Jennifer was referring to, and neither parent liked the far-away look they saw in their daughter’s eyes.

“Jen…Jen, come here,” Roy beckoned as he held one arm out to his daughter. “Come here, princess.”

Jennifer slowly stood and walked to her father’s side.  He urged her to sit on his left knee and put an arm around her waist. 

“It’s okay, Jen.  Johnny’ll be okay.”

Jennifer looked into her father’s face.  “But whoever took the Land Rover beat him just like that man beat him.  Just as badly as that man beat him, and now whoever has the Rover has John, too.”

“But it’s different this time,” Roy emphasized.  “This was a carjacking, sweetheart. Someone wanted Uncle Johnny’s car. Whoever it was wasn’t out to kidnap a child.”

“How do you know?”

The girl had put her father on the spot.  Still, Roy came up with the best answer he could. The only one he could allow himself to believe.

“I just do. The police are certain of it too, and they know a lot more about the motives behind crimes than I do.”

“Maybe Johnny fought back,” Joanne said.  “Maybe that’s why the man - or men, got so violent.”

“The police said that was a possibility.”

“No.” Jennifer shook her head. “Uncle Johnny wouldn’t do that.  Not with John with him.  He wouldn’t have fought back.  He would have given them whatever they wanted.”

“He might have fought, Jenny,” Roy said.  “It’s hard for any of us to predict what we’d do when faced with a situation like that.”

Jennifer stood and moved away from her father. “Then you don’t know Uncle Johnny nearly as well as I do, because he’d never do something that would put John in danger. Including putting up a fight for a stupid old truck.”

Joanne smiled just a bit at Jenny’s words. “But your Uncle Johnny loved that ‘stupid old truck’ as you phrased it.”

Jennifer glared at her parents as though she couldn’t believe they could be so dense. 

“Not as much as he loves John. Not as much as he loves any one of us.”

Roy held up a hand to signal an end to the discussion.  He wasn’t in the mood to fight with his daughter. 

“Okay, okay. Point taken.  None of that matters anyway, because your mother and I both know that Johnny would never purposely put any of you kids in harms way. Until Johnny can tell us what happened, there’s no use in playing guessing games.”

“When will Johnny be able to tell us what happened?”

Roy’s eyes shifted from his daughter to his wife. “Until Chris calls with more information about Johnny’s condition, I can’t answer that.  We’ll just have to wait and see.  I don’t even know how soon a doctor will allow the police to take a statement from him.  It all depends on how serious the head trauma is, and when Johnny’s doctor thinks he’s up to talking to the cops. Hopefully, John will be found long before any of that’s necessary.”

Tears filled Joanne’s eyes again. “Do you really think that’ll happen? That John will be found soon?”

“I do,” Roy nodded. “I’m banking on them finding the Land Rover without too much trouble.  There aren’t that many vehicles like it on the road.  They’re bound to run across it before long.”

“I hope you’re right.”  Joanne squeezed her husband’s hand. “God, Roy, but I hope you’re right.”

Roy wished there was something else he could say. Something that would allow Joanne and Jennifer to be certain that this nightmare would have a happy ending, but unfortunately, he couldn’t offer them anything beyond what he already had – the truth, and a good deal of a faith to go along with it. 

After a moment, Roy thought of one more bit of information he could add. 

“I gave the police a picture of John. The one taken for his T-ball team this summer.  It’ll be on the news later this evening.”

Roy could tell his wife didn’t know whether to smile or cry at the thought of that photo when she said in a soft voice, “That was a good picture of him.”

“It was,” Roy acknowledged, thinking of the photograph of the five year old boy posed on one knee with a baseball bat in his hands.  His cap had been pushed back far enough that the bill hadn’t obstructed his facial features, which was now a blessing considering the circumstances.  Roy had also easily been able to rattle off John’s current height and weight, since he’d gone with Joanne to the pediatrician’s office for John’s school physical just a few days before they’d left on vacation.

Roy’s gaze took in both his wife and daughter. “Do you wanna get some supper?  We could walk across the street to the restaurant.  Both Chris and the police know to call there if they can’t reach us here.”

“No,” Jennifer said.  “I’m not hungry.”

“I’m not hungry, either.”

Roy let the subject drop since he didn’t have any more of an appetite than Joanne and Jennifer.  They could always grab something to eat later in the evening if they were still here.

Jennifer began to pace the small room.  Watching her walk back and forth, Roy knew they’d all get cabin fever if cooped up in this motel room for very long, which was why he was already wondering how long they should stay before returning to Carson.  If God answered prayers, then this wouldn’t be an issue, because John would be returned to them before the night was over.  But if prayers weren’t answered, then Roy would have to decide what was best for his family.  Not that he hadn’t already decided to a large extent - waiting at home for word from the police would be more comfortable for all of them, but convincing Joanne to leave Baker without her youngest child might be not be easy. 

Roy sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead.  Nothing in all of his years of parenthood had prepared him for this.  There was no guidebook you could turn to for answers on what to do when your child was missing.  Maybe Joanne knew at least some of those answers better than Roy did, because she suggested to their anxious teenager, “Jen, why don’t you change into your swimming suit and go out to the pool for a while.”

Roy expected Jennifer to protest, but instead, she seemed relieved to be allowed to leave the room when she said, “Okay. Sure.”  Which again, confirmed Roy’s theory that they couldn’t stay cooped up here for very long.

Jennifer rummaged through one of the suitcases they’d carried in, grabbed the bikini Roy normally made her put back in favor of one that was cut more modestly, and headed for the bathroom.  Five minutes later she exited the bathroom with a towel slung over one shoulder.  She shoved her feet into her tennis shoes, picked up her book, and paused to kiss first her father, and then her mother, as she headed for the door.

“Come get me as soon as you hear anything from the police or Chris.”

“We will,” Joanne promised.

The girl slipped quietly from the room, shutting the door behind her. 

“She needed to get out of here for a while,” Joanne explained to her husband almost apologetically. As though she’d done something wrong by allowing their teenager to be…well, a teenager.

“I know.”

Roy stood and headed for the phone.  “I’d better call headquarters and let them know what’s happened.  Johnny was supposed to be back at work tomorrow, too.”

That turned out to be one of the hardest phone calls Roy’d ever made.  Detailing what had transpired to the chief of the department, and then answering his questions, forced Roy to relive what had already been a harrowing day.  The captain was glad when their conversation finally drew to a close.

“Yes, Chief.  I’ll call as soon as I know anything about Johnny or my son.  Thank you.”

Roy listened as the man expressed his sympathies one last time, and then his confidence that John would be found safely and that Johnny would recover from his injuries.

“Thank you, Sir. I’m sure everything will turn out all right, too.  I’ll call in with an update as soon as I know more.”

Roy said goodbye to the man, and heard his “Goodbye” in return before hanging up.  When he turned around, Joanne asked, “Everything’s all right?”

Roy nodded.  “He said to take as much time away as I need to.  He’ll also send out a memo to the entire department about Johnny’s missing Rover and the possibility that John’s inside of it.  With as many firefighters and paramedics as we have out on the road each day, who knows,” Roy shrugged, “they might spot something.”

“They might,” Joanne agreed, knowing that the Land Rover could just as easily be in L.A. County by now as it could be in Nevada.  “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was. He’s also gonna call the camper place for me and explain why we won’t have the unit back this evening. If we’re charged a late fee, he’ll arrange for the department to pick up the tab.  He wanted me to tell you that he wishes there was something more he could do - that the department could do - to help.”

Those were the words that finally caused Joanne to break.  With Jennifer gone from the room, she no longer fought to hold her tears at bay.  She rocked back and forth in her chair, hugging herself while sobbing, “I wish there was something more I could do too, Roy.  I’m John’s mother.  I’m the one who’s supposed to keep him safe.  I’m the one who’s supposed to know where he is all the time, only I don’t know where he is, and I’m scared.  Oh God, Roy, I’m so scared.  I’m so scared.”

Roy knelt in front of his wife and took her in arms.  She sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with her tears as she cried for her youngest child until she had no tears left and her sobs changed to dry heaves.

Roy guided his wife to the closest bed and made her lie down. He went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with lukewarm water.  He returned to Joanne’s side and sat beside her.  He bathed her face with the cloth while whispering, “It’ll be okay, Jo. Everything’ll be okay.  John’s all right.  John’ll come back to us safe and sound. He’s all right.  I know he’s all right.”

At that moment Roy believed what he was saying because, like Joanne, he suddenly couldn’t face any other outcome but the one that would bring John back to them free of harm. 

Johnny might die.  John might already be dead.  And Roy had no idea how he and Joanne would go on if those two things came to pass.

Chapter 18

Chris quietly walked out of the small, single patient room on the Intensive Care Unit after visiting with his “uncle” for the five minutes Johnny’s doctor had allowed.  It was quarter after nine.  It had been a long day, and it wasn’t over yet.  Chris still had to call his father before finding a couch to sleep on for the night.

As Dr. Brackett promised he would, he’d spoken with the physician in charge of Johnny’s care earlier that evening.  Chris didn’t know the details of that phone call, but he did know the contact from Kelly Brackett was probably why Dr. Patel, and other members of the Loma Linda staff that Chris had encountered thus far, were so accommodating to a young man barely out of high school. 

Chris had to listen hard to understand Dr. Patel’s explanation of Johnny’s injuries.  He wasn’t sure where the man was from, but he guessed India.  The doctor was short and slightly built – not much bigger than a small framed fifteen-year-old boy.  His coal black hair lay flat against his head, and square silver wire-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. His white coat and the harsh overhead lights made his skin seem even browner than it was.

The eighteen-year-old’s knowledge of Johnny’s condition was enhanced somewhat when Kelly Brackett called him an hour after Dr. Patel talked to Chris.  Brackett answered all of the questions that had come to Chris’s mind since his conversation with Dr. Patel.  Chris was grateful to Kelly Brackett for his time and thoroughness.  At least Chris now felt confident that he could answer any questions his father might have about Uncle Johnny.

Chris hadn’t eaten supper yet. Even so, he bypassed the cafeteria in favor of the bank of pay phones he’d used that afternoon.  He dug more change from his pocket.  He’d gotten a supply several hours earlier when he’d gone to the cafeteria and purchased a Coke.  He’d paid with a ten-dollar bill, and requested three dollars in coins as part of his change.

“For the pay phone?” the pretty girl who was working behind the counter inquired.

“Yeah,” Chris smiled in return at the girl he guessed to be about Jennifer’s age.  “You must have a lot of people asking for it, huh?”

“Some,” the girl had acknowledged, while counting an assortment of nickels, dimes, quarters, and dollar bills back to him.

 Chris laid the change on the long wooden shelf beneath the pay phones.  There was one other man making a call, but he was at the far end, near the women’s bathroom.  His back was to Chris, but the teen could tell the man was broken up about something.  He caught enough words to know that the middle-aged man was letting a family member know that his mother wasn’t expected to live through the night.

Chris fished for his wallet, opened it, and pulled out a business card from the motel in Baker.  It included a phone number for the motel, and one for the restaurant where Chris and his sister sat eating cheeseburgers just that afternoon.  So much had happened since then, that it seemed like days ago when he and Jen ate their second lunch of the day, as opposed to just eight hours. 

Chris decided to try the motel’s number first.  If he didn’t reach his family there, then he’d try the restaurant.  He dropped the appropriate amount of money into the phone’s slots and dialed the motel’s number.  When a desk clerk answered, “Good evening. Bun Boy Motel,” Chris asked to be connected to Room 9. 

The phone was picked up on the first ring.  In his mind, Chris pictured his parents hovering over the top of it, willing the caller to give them good news. He hoped to God they’d already gotten at least one phone call like that this evening. The one that would have told them John was found safe.

The “Hello?” Chris heard was quick, succinct, and filled with anxiety.

“Dad, it’s me,” Chris said while returning the business card to his wallet with one hand, and then slipping the wallet into his back pocket.

“Chris...”

Chris could hear an odd combination of relief and disappointment in his father’s tone. As though Dad was eager to hear from him, but at the same time, Chris wasn’t the caller his father was most hoping would be on the other end of the line.  That realization caused a knot to form in Chris’s stomach.  He conveyed all he needed to with just one word.

“John?”

“They…they haven’t found him yet.  Officer Cooper stopped by here about thirty minutes ago.  They haven’t found the Land Rover or John.”

Chris swallowed hard so he could speak around the lump that suddenly took up residence in his throat.  His brother was only five, and had now been missing for most of the day.  What were the chances that he’d be found unharmed?  Probably not good, Chris thought, but he didn’t say that to his father.

“How…how’re you doin’ Dad?  How’s Mom?”

There was a moment of hesitation before his father spoke.  Chris could picture him looking at Mom, maybe even squeezing her hand before answering.

“Mom’s…Mom’s okay.  She knows John’s going to come back to us safe and sound.”

“I know he will too,” Chris said with forced confidence. “And Jen?  How’s she?”

“She’s all right.  Upset, but hanging in there like the rest of us.  I was just gonna take her and your mother over to the restaurant for something to eat.”

Chris figured his family didn’t have any more of an appetite than he did, but he also knew his father would make sure everyone tried to eat something, even if it was just a few bites of whatever food they ordered.

It was Chris’s father’s turn to ask questions now.

“How’s Johnny?”

Chris wondered how to answer that question.  Johnny looked horrible.  Bruised, battered, and sunburned.  The purple and blue bruises and the brilliant red of the sunburn, all looked worse now than they had when Chris last saw Johnny in the helicopter.  An ICU nurse told Chris that was normal though, and that it would be a couple of weeks before the evidence of the beating and exposure began to fade.

Chris’s father’s voice brought the young man from his musing.

“Chris?  How is he? How’s Johnny?”

“Uh…well, his doctor said he’s doing okay, all things considered.”

“What’s that mean?”

“He’s listed in fair but stable condition.  They put him in a room in the Intensive Care Unit about an hour ago.”

“Have you talked to his doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?”

“That if no complications set in, Uncle Johnny should be all right with time.”

Chris heard his father release a heavy sigh of relief, then his muttered, “Thank God.”

“That’s what I say too.”

“Did the doctor go over his injuries with you?”

“Yeah. Uncle Johnny’s got what they’re calling a ‘severe’ concussion. They did a CAT scan.  They don’t see signs of any bleeding or swelling in the brain.” 

“Finally, some good news.  What else?”

“Besides that, his left arm is broken. They’ve already got it in a cast.  He’s got three broken ribs, and second-degree sunburn on the right side of his face and neck, and on his right arm.  He’s got a lot of bruises and cuts, but the doctor didn’t seem too concerned about any of ‘em.  They took X-rays of his right knee. It’s not broken, but because of how swollen it is, they’re not sure how much damage might have been done.  Dr. Patel – the guy who took care of Uncle Johnny in the ER – said Johnny might need to use a wheelchair for a while, or at least until he can get around on crutches better after the cast comes off his arm.  Dr. Brackett’s the one who’ll follow up on all that.”

“Dr. Brackett?”

“I called him after I got here to let him know what happened to Uncle Johnny.  He got in contact with Dr. Patel, and then he called me back a little while ago.  Dr. Brackett said as soon as Dr. Patel feels it’s safe for Johnny to travel, he’ll arrange to have him transferred to Rampart.”

Chris’s dad voiced his approval of Brackett’s decision. “Good. That’ll make me feel better.”

“I figured as much.”

“You did a great job today, son. You did everything I would have done if I’d been there.  I’m really proud of you, Chris.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Chris wanted to add that he wished he could have done more – like locate John – but Chris figured his entire family wished the same thing, so he didn’t voice it.

Chris listened when his father spoke again.

“Did this Dr. Patel say how soon Johnny’ll be able to give the police a statement? Cooper wants me to call him as soon we know.  Did Johnny say anything at all to the doctors about John?  Did you ask them if he said anything about John?”

Chris heard the anxiety return to his father’s voice in full force.  Because of that, he hated the thought of what he had to tell his dad next.

“Dad…Dad, I just talked to Uncle Johnny a few minutes ago.”

“You did?  Did you ask him about John?”

“I…” Chris closed his eyes a moment, then opened them and stood up straight.  “Yeah, I did.  Dr. Patel said I could, as long as I didn’t upset him or put any pressure on him to give me answers.”

“What’d he say? Was Johnny able to tell you what happened to John?”

Again, Chris could picture his father squeezing his mother’s hand while he waited for Chris’s answer.

“He…” Chris paused to gather strength. Oh God, how he hated being the person who had to break this news to his father. “Dad…Dad, Uncle Johnny…he…Uncle Johnny--”

“What about Johnny, Chris?  What about him? What’d he tell you?”

“He…he didn’t tell me much of anything. He’s still pretty out of it. He…Dad, Uncle Johnny doesn’t remember John being in the Land Rover with him.  The last thing he remembers is when we were all sitting at the picnic table yesterday, eating the fish we’d caught for supper.  I’m really sorry, Dad, but he doesn’t remember anything that happened after that.”

There was a long silence, then a small cry, like that of a woman trying to contain her grief. Somehow, without his father saying a word, Chris’s mother knew that the last man to have seen her youngest son alive wasn’t able to help them locate him.

Chris barely processed his father’s quiet unsteady voice telling him to stay at the hospital until the next day.

“I don’t know yet how long we’ll stay here in Baker. If I can’t come get you tomorrow, I’ll make arrangements for someone else to.”

Chris’s voice was as soft and unsteady as his dad’s.  “O…okay.  I’ll make sure the nurses at the Emergency Room desk know where I am. You can track me down through them if you don’t see me in the waiting area.”

“All right.  Good…good night, son. And thanks again for everything you did today.  It means a lot to your mother and me.  I know it’ll mean a lot to Johnny too.”

“You’re welcome.  And, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Mom…tell her that I love her. And Jen. Tell Jen the same thing.”

Chris could hear the slight smile in his father’s voice.

“I will.”

“Dad…Dad, I love you too. Take care of yourself.”

 Chris didn’t wait for his father’s answer. He hung up the receiver, then laid his forehead against it and fought to keep from crying.

Chapter 19

Not for the first time since this day had started, Danny wondered why the hell he listened to Shawn.  Why the hell he just didn’t walk away from his friend and not look back. 

It was almost ten o’clock.  The darkness outside meant all that Danny saw was his reflection when he looked out the big picture window of the McDonald’s Shawn had insisted they stop at.  Danny’s legs jiggled a nervous rhythm beneath the table.  He tore his gaze from the windows and watched Shawn shove a fistful of French fries into his mouth.

They should have been home hours ago.  They should have dumped the truck hours ago too, but there hadn’t been an opportunity to do that because Danny had gotten lost.

That’s what I get for listening to Shawn.  He went off on me because we damn near ended up in Arizona before I realized it and turned around, but he was the one who said to get gas in some out of the way place.  He was the one who said don’t go into Barstow.  I can’t help it that I got lost after we left the gas station. Shawn was the one who said, “Don’t get back on the freeway, dude. Let’s stay off it until we ditch this hunk a’ junk in San Berdoo.”

It’s not my fault that I didn’t know where the hell we were.  And he wasn’t any help. He just sat slumped in the seat sleeping off his high. 

Danny gingerly rubbed his swollen lower lip.  Shawn had gone berserk after Danny pulled to the side of the road and admitted he needed to turn around because they were headed east and not west. They’d gotten so far east, that Danny had spotted a sign announcing that the Arizona state line was just a few miles away.   

Shawn laid into Danny in the cramped front quarters of the truck then, beating Danny’s face with his fists. That’s when Danny should have gotten out of the vehicle and shouted, “Screw you!”  He should have taken his chances walking through the desert until he ran across a town.  He could have called home and asked his older sister to come and pick him up.  Julie wouldn’t have been happy with him, and she probably would have lectured him for the fiftieth time about how hanging out with Shawn was going to bring him nothing but trouble, but even so, she wouldn’t have finked on him to Mom.  

Because Danny hadn’t had the courage to say, “Screw you,” to Shawn and leave him to fend for himself, he was now in the last place he wanted to be - the middle of San Bernardino. Shawn had claimed it was safe to stop and get something to eat as long as they parked the stolen truck in a remote corner of the McDonald’s lot, away from any overhead lights and other cars.  Danny had done that, but nonetheless, this stop was making him increasingly nervous.  He just wanted to get home.  He no longer cared about attempting to steal another vehicle, though he knew that’s what Shawn had on his mind now that they were in a decent-sized city.  Danny, on the other hand, just wanted to stay off the freeway and head for Huntington Beach.  He wouldn’t get lost now. He knew these roads. As far as he was concerned, they should ditch the truck as soon as they were closer to home, then head for their houses on foot while not attracting any attention to themselves.  Or once the truck was out of sight, maybe Danny could call Julie from a gas station payphone and claim a friend had driven them that far and dropped them off.  Maybe Julie would be willing to come pick them up without asking a lot of questions. 

The young man was still mulling over the quickest and safest way to get home, when Shawn pointed at the Quarter Pounder Danny hadn’t taken out of the box yet.

“Ya’ gonna eat that?”

“No,” Danny mumbled.  “My mouth hurts too much to eat.”

Shawn reached for the Quarter Pounder and set it in front of him.

“Hey, buddy, I’m sorry ‘bout that.  I just…I lost my head, ya’ know?  I didn’t mean it.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed.  “Just like you didn’t mean to beat that guy ta’ death?”

“Aw, I didn’t kill him.”

While Shawn took big bites of the burger, Danny leaned forward and whispered,  “I think you did, Shawn.” His eyes darted around the restaurant to make sure no one was sitting close enough to overhear them.  “I think you killed him. And even if you didn’t, how long do you think he lasted laying out there in the desert like that with no help?”

“What’re you so worried about, man?  He’s fine.  I just gave him a little bump on the head.”

“What I’m worried about is bein’ tried for murder if we get caught.”

“We’re not gonna get caught.” Shawn stuffed the remainder of the Quarter Pounder in his mouth, chewed a few times, swallowed, and washed it down with a gulp of Coke.  He glanced out of the window.  “It’s dark now.  We’ll find a new set a’ wheels and head for home.”

“I don’t wanna find a new set a’ wheels.  Let’s just stay off the freeway and head for Orange County.  We can dump the truck after we cross the county line.  We can walk home from there.  Maybe I can call Julie to come pick us up at a gas station or something.”

Shawn seemed to be taking Danny’s suggestions into consideration.  Because Shawn always had to be the one in charge, Danny was surprised when his friend agreed to his plan. 

“Okay, if that’s the way you want it, buddy, then that’s the way we’ll do it.”

Danny gave a small sigh of relief when Shawn stood and headed for the door.  Danny quickly gathered up their trash and stuffed it in a garbage can.  He didn’t want to give anyone in the restaurant reason to remember them.  He figured trash left all over the table was a way he and Shawn might stick out in the memories of the employees.

Danny jogged to catch up to Shawn.  He glanced around, seeing nothing but a smattering of cars in the parking lot. Because of the late hour on a weeknight, there hadn’t been more than half a dozen people in the restaurant.  Other than the noise of the vehicles speeding by on the two-lane highway, the surrounding area was quiet.  The small strip mall next to the McDonald’s held a take-out pizza joint, a Laundromat, a video rental store, a deli, and an all-night drugstore.  People appeared to be minding their own business as they came and went from the strip mall, none of them paying any attention to the young men walking to the white truck in a far corner of McDonald’s lot.

The boys split up as they approached the rear of the vehicle. Danny rounded it so he could get in on the driver’s side, while Shawn headed for the passenger side.  Out of the darkness, Danny heard a sudden shout.

“Police!  Freeze! Get your hands in the air!”

Danny never had a chance to run. Hands so massive that they could have encircled his biceps twice over gripped Danny’s arms and threw him onto the hood of the truck.  By the pain-filled grunt he heard coming from the opposite side of the vehicle, Danny knew the same thing had happened to Shawn.

Blood gushed from Danny’s nose. One of the hands grasped the back of his shirt while the other yanked his hair, twisting his head sideways and slamming it onto the metal hood.  Another set of beefy hands grabbed Danny’s wrists and handcuffed them behind his back.  He knew Shawn was getting the same treatment when his friend yelled, “Hey you mother fuckers! Those are too goddamn tight!”

If any of the cops made a response to Shawn, Danny didn’t hear it.  All he heard as his legs were yanked apart and he was roughly searched for weapons, was a voice screaming in his ear, “Where’s the boy!  Where’s the boy! Where is he?  Where’s the boy?”

Danny didn’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when he wet his pants and started to cry.  He tried to turn his head so he could look into the cop’s face, but it was shoved back to the hood.  Out of the only corner of his mouth he could move, the terrified Danny asked, “Wha…what boy?”

“The boy you losers kidnapped! The five-year-old boy who was with the man you punks beat the shit out of and left for dead back in Nipton.”

No matter how many times Danny and Shawn denied knowing anything about a boy, the cops just got rougher with them while continuing to shout, “Where’s the boy?  Where’s the boy?” 

As Danny was shoved into the back of an unmarked police car, he was sure he’d go to his grave hearing the words, “Where’s the boy?” hollered by a red-faced angry detective who seemed convinced that he and Shawn had kidnapped a child, murdered him, and then dumped his body somewhere between here and Nipton.

Oh God.  Oh God.  Oh God, was the litany that ran through Danny’s brain as he leaned forward and threw up on his tennis shoes.  Oh God, they think we’ve killed a little kid.   They think we took a kid and killed him.

Danny sat up and looked around for his friend. He spotted Shawn seated in the back of an unmarked sedan parked next to the sedan Danny was in.  As Danny glared out the window at his friend, this was one time he hoped Shawn could read his mind.

 Damn you, you fuckin’ sonuvabitch.  Damn you and your bright ideas. Damn you all the way to hell, Shawn. Damn you all the way to hell. 

Which was exactly where Danny thought he and Shawn might end up if they were wrongly convicted of murdering the missing boy.

 Chapter 20

“Hey!  Hey, Cloud Jumper!  I found one! Look! I found one!”

Rudy glanced up from the mound of rocks he was squatting beside.  The boy was grinning from ear to ear as he held up a geode.  Based on outside appearance, there was nothing special about the ugly misshapen rock.  But as Rudy had told Katori when they’d set off on their rock hounding expedition, geodes were like people.  What the outer shell looked like didn’t matter. It was what was inside that counted. 

Rudy nodded at the boy.  “Good job. Put it in your bag and look for more.”

Rudy’s helper did as he was told.  A cloth bag with a soft cloth strap attached to it was slung over Katori’s thin shoulder.  The boy dropped the rock into the bag, then returned to work.  Rudy could see the eagerness on Katori’s face as he got down on his hands and knees again and scrounged through the rocks.  He’d gone from disappointed to excited when Rudy had first shown him what surprises a geode held.

“It’s kinda ugly,” the boy said while screwing up his face with displeasure.  “You can really make necklaces outta that and someone’ll buy ‘em?”  

“Not out of this; no.” Rudy glanced up from his crouched position as he finished opening the geode with his rock saw. “But out of this I can.”

“Wow!”  The boy’s eyes widened when he saw the sparkling crystals lining the rock’s cavity.  “Are those diamonds?”

Rudy had chuckled. “I wish they were.”

“What are they then?”

“Crystals.”

“How do they get in there?”

“Something called ‘silica precipitation’ forms on the inside walls of the geode.  That precipitation contains dissolved minerals like quartz, amethyst and calcite.  Over a lotta years’ time – thousands of years – the silica forms crystals in the geode’s cavity.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Read it in a book I have.”

“Oh.”  The boy thought a moment.  “It sounds confusing.  You wanna know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think God put ‘em in there.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yeah. Don’t you?”

“I dunno.” Rudy shrugged as he pushed himself to his feet with a small grunt. “Haven’t thought about God in a long time.”

“You don’t go to Sunday School?”

“Can’t say’s I do.”

“Oh.”

“Do you go to Sunday School?”

“Yep.”

“Where?”

“At the church down the street from my house.”

“Where’s your house?”

“In Car…”

The boy stopped himself before he gave Rudy any more of an answer.  Rudy didn’t press the issue.  He’d already learned that Katori was a smart little kid and not easily tripped up.  The boy had been with him for fifteen hours by the time they’d set off on their rock hounding expedition at six a.m. on Wednesday morning.  The only thing he’d freely revealed in that time was the same thing he’d revealed when Rudy had first come upon him.  That his name was Katori, and that he was waiting for someone named Uncle Johnny to come and pick him up. 

In the time they’d been working since Rudy tried to get Katori to reveal where he attended Sunday School, the boy hadn’t said anything else that would help Rudy figure out where he belonged.  Rudy still wasn’t entirely convinced the child hadn’t run away from whomever this Uncle Johnny person was he kept referring to, yet Rudy hadn’t seen any signs of abuse on the child, either.  The boy seemed well fed, well cared for, and self-confident.  He’d been a bit frightened and reluctant to enter Rudy’s home the previous afternoon, but once he’d been inside for a while and came to the conclusion that Rudy wasn’t going to hurt him, he’d grown more comfortable and talkative.

Rudy had no earthly idea how take care of a child.  Eleanor’s boys were already grown by the time Rudy visited her: the youngest nineteen years old.   Because of the distance Ellie lived from him, Rudy’d never been around small children for any length of time.  He’d always thought having a few kids would be nice back when he also thought he’d marry Carol after returning from the war.  But just like Carol, thoughts of children were something Rudy had buried in his past.  He was far too old to be a father now; not that he could imagine any woman wanting an old desert rat like him even if he was to meet someone he was attracted to. Therefore, having a child just appear on his doorstep had thrown Rudy’s private, isolated, and quiet lifestyle into a tailspin.

Once Rudy had gotten Katori inside the previous afternoon, he’d done the only logical things he could think of.  Gave the boy something cold to drink, and asked if he wanted anything to eat.

“I’m not very hungry,” the child said between gulps of lemonade while sitting on his knees on an old blue and white vinyl kitchen chair with chrome legs.

“No?”

“Uh huh.  I had a peanut butter sandwich and some Cracker Jacks a little while ago.”

Rudy’s eyebrows rose. “So you’re the one who ate my lunch.”

“Oh…uh…that was your lunch?”

“It was.”

The way Rudy crossed his arms over his chest and gave the child a stern glare caused fear to return to the boy’s eyes.

“I-I-I’m sorry.  I…I didn’t know.”

“Do you normally make it a habit of eatin’ things that don’t belong to you?”

“N-no.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you better than that?”

“Ye…I dunno.”

That was when Rudy first knew this child wasn’t going to be easily fooled. As soon as the boy who called himself Katori realized he might reveal something about his background Rudy wanted to know, he clamed up.

“Whatta ya’ mean you don’t know?  You don’t know what your mother taught you, or you don’t have a mother?”

Rudy was certain the child would declare, “I have a mother!”  He didn’t think a kid so young could be so cunning when it came to keeping secrets, but evidently this boy was.  He dropped his eyes to the rim of his glass and appeared to be putting a great deal of concentration into drinking his lemonade. When the glass was empty and the boy still refused to talk, Rudy asked gruffly, “Ya’ want more?”

Katori held the glass up. “Please.”

“At least someone taught you some manners.”

There was a degree of indignation in the response Rudy was given.

“I have manners.”

Rudy hid his smile as he pulled open the handle on his ancient refrigerator.  He grabbed the pitcher of lemonade and refilled the child’s glass. As he returned the pitcher next to its spot by a carton of milk, Katori asked, “Is that thing a refrigerator?”

“Sure is. 1938 Frigidaire Deluxe. Got it at a second hand store a few years ago when my other one quit working.”

“Where’s the icemaker?”

Rudy opened the refrigerator again and swung back the silver door on the tiny freezer unit.

“Right here.”

The boy’s brows furrowed. “That doesn’t look like an icemaker to me.  An icemaker is in the door.  All ya’ gotta do is hold your glass up to it and press it against this plastic thingy, and you get ice.”

“That’s all you gotta do, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Well I do it the old fashioned way.”

“How?”

“I fill ice cube trays up with water and put ‘em up here until they freeze.”

To demonstrate, Rudy pulled out a silver tray, carried it to the counter, and pulled on the handle until the ice cube molder popped up. The cubes broke free, allowing Rudy to lift the molder, which left the ice cubes setting in the tray.  The boy was impressed.

“Neato torpedo.”

Rudy put the ice cube tray back in the freezer.  “Neato torpedo, huh?”

“Yep.  My friend Ry…my friend says that all the time.”

Rudy recorded that slip, though it didn’t help any more than the slip the child had almost made about acknowledging he had a mother.  The most Rudy knew now was that the boy had an Uncle Johnny, probably had a mother, and had a friend whose first name started with the sound ‘rye’ as in rye bread.   And as far as those clues went, Rudy wasn’t one hundred percent certain a person named Uncle Johnny existed.  Maybe he was nothing but a figment of a little boy’s imagination.  For the time being though, Rudy gave the boy the benefit of the doubt and kept “Uncle Johnny” on his mental list of clues to the child’s identity.

After Katori had eaten, Rudy showed him where the bathroom was.  The kid didn’t seem to need to use it, so Rudy said, “When you gotta go, you don’t have to ask permission or anything. Just come in here, shut the door, and git the job done.”

Rudy easily read the confusion on the boy’s upturned face. 

“The job?”

“Whatever you gotta do.  What someone does in a bathroom.”

“You mean like pee?”

“Yeah. That’s what I mean.”

“Okay.”

Rudy saw the boy strain to get a look at his small enclosed back porch where a chest freezer Rudy had bought at a garage sale a few years back sat against the far wall, where the broom, mop, bucket, and dust pan hung from hooks on the opposite wall, where a metal storage cabinet stood against another wall, where the vacuum cleaner resided in a corner, and where a big bellied washing machine sat.

“What’s that?”

“A washing machine.”

“Looks funny.”

“It’s a wringer washer.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Means you get the water outta the clothes by running ‘em through the ringer.”

“Where’s your dryer?”

“Don’t have one,” Rudy said, as he led Katori back down the short hall that would take them to either the kitchen or living room, depending on which doorway they turned into.  Left would take them to the kitchen, right to the living room.

“How do you dry your clothes?”

“Hang ‘em out on the line. Haven’t you ever seen clothes dryin’ on a line before?”

“Sure.  My mo…sometimes I’ve seen sheets and towels hanging on a clothesline.”

“You have? Who does that?”

The boy shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve just seen it.”

Clever kid.  I’ll give him that.

Rudy stopped when the boy paused in the doorway of his bedroom.  Though Rudy’s home was small and far from fancy, the old man was proud of it. He owned it free and clear, and kept it neat and orderly.  Katori pointed to the wool blanket that was folded and resting at the foot of the bed.

“Did your grandmother make that?”

“My grandmother?”

“It looks like an Indian blanket. Gray Wolf has one just like it. His grandmother made it.”

“Uncle Johnny’s grandpa?”

“Yeah.  That’s who Gray Wolf is.  I already told you that.”

Rudy made note of that clue, though he didn’t put a lot of stock in it.  It sounded to him like this white kid with the reddish brown hair and hazel eyes who called himself Katori had watched too many cowboy and Indian movies on TV.   

“So where does Gray Wolf live?”

“Far away from here,” was the only answer Rudy was given before the boy returned his attention to the blanket.  “You didn’t answer me.  Did your grandmother make that?”

“Nope.”

“Where’d you get it then?”

“K-mart. Blue light special.”

The humor in Rudy’s answer was lost on his visitor.  Nonetheless, he was being truthful.  He’d bought the blanket at K-mart to ward off the chill that prevailed in the desert after the sun went down.

Katori looked around when they entered Rudy’s living room as though he was searching for something important.

“Where’s your TV?”

Rudy settled down into the brown easy chair that had long ago conformed to his shape. The springs in it weren’t in great shape any longer, but it was sure comfortable after a long day of working on his crafts. 

“Don’t have one.”

The boy’s eyes grew big and round, as though he couldn’t fathom such a thing.

“You don’t have one?”

“Do ya’ see one anywhere?”

Katori’s eyes searched the room one more time before returning to Rudy’s face.

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

“Whatta ya’ do for fun?”

“I’m too old to have fun.”

“Uncle Johnny says a guy’s never too old to have fun.”

“When Uncle Johnny’s my age he’ll say differently.”

“I don’t think so. My da…I know someone who says Uncle Johnny’s just a kid at heart.”

“Then he doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who should be in charge of a boy your age.”

“He does too!  Uncle Johnny takes real good care of me!”

“Doesn’t look like it to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re here and Uncle Johnny’s not.”

Rudy saw the boy’s lip quiver for a few seconds as though he was about to cry, but then the child regained control of himself.  

“He’ll come get me,” Katori declared. “Uncle Johnny’ll come for me when he can.”

“When do ya’ think that’ll be?”

“Soon,” the boy stated with firm conviction.

I hope so, ‘cause I sure don’t know what I’m gonna do with you if he doesn’t show up.

A big floor fan kept air circulating in the room.  Rudy would have dropped off to sleep to its whirling rhythm had the boy not been staring at him as though he expected Rudy to entertain him in some way.  Every time Rudy opened his eyes the kid was staring at him.

“What’s your problem?”

“I’m bored.”

“Well…go find somethin’ to do.”

“Like what?”

Rudy had to admit that was a good question.  He had nothing outside for the boy to play on like a swing set or slide, nor did he have a bike Katori could ride on.  He tried to think of what kids liked to do – of what he and Woody had liked to do when they were young.  He gazed at his visitor, trying to guess the kid’s age.

“How old’re you?”

“Five and a half.”

The man grasped the arms of the chair, pushing himself to his feet.

“Follow me.”

“Where’re we goin?”

“To get you something so you won’t be bored any more.”

Rudy could tell the boy was eagerly traipsing along behind him.

“You got a TV back here?” Katori asked as they turned and walked to Rudy’s bedroom.

“Nope.  Besides, you don’t need a TV to keep you from bein’ bored.  Me and my brother never had a TV when we were growing up, and we always found plenty to do.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll show you.”

Rudy opened his closet, bent down, moved a couple of pairs of shoes out of his way, and slid a big cardboard box across the floor.

“What’s in there?”

“You’ll see.”

Rudy shut the closet door, then picked up the box. He carried it to the living room with Katori trailing along behind him. He set it in the middle of the floor.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

Rudy watched as Katori opened the flaps.  He couldn’t resist sitting beside the boy as the child pulled out treasured old memories with exclamations of “Wow!” and “Neat!” and “How’s this work?”

A set of tin soldiers, eight die-cast cars and trucks, a Buck Rogers’ Disintegrator Pistol, and a fully jointed teddy bear were the first things to appear.  Katori studied each item for varying lengths of time before reaching in the box and finding a yo-yo, a wooden top, a ball and jacks, a tin of Lincoln Logs, a cloth bag of wooden building blocks, an assortment of children’s storybooks, and four wind-up toys.

He held up those last items.

“I know these guys.  They’re Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Pluto, and Donald Duck.”

“They are,” Rudy nodded.

“They were around when you were a kid?”

“Sure were.”

“Where’d you get all this stuff from?”

“Most of it belonged to me and my brother. A few things were Mary’s – my sister - like those wind-up toys, some of the books, and that teddy bear. A long time ago when my mom sold our house and moved to Chicago, I helped her pack.  I boxed these things up and brought ‘em back here.”

“So your kids could play with them?”

“I don’t have any kids.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.”

Rudy detected relief in the boy’s tone for some reason. As though the thought of Rudy having kids had been concerning him.

“Oh. Well, Uncle Johnny doesn’t have kids either, but he sure knows how to show a kid a good time. Kinda like you too, Cloud Jumper.”

“You’re havin’ a good time here, is that it?”

“Now I am,” Katori said as he started carefully placing tin soldiers across from one another on the floor just like Rudy and Woody used to do.

Rudy allowed nostalgia to wash over him for a few minutes as his eyes scanned the items he hadn’t taken from the box since the day he’d packed them shortly after his father died in 1955. As hard as it was to believe, that was almost thirty years ago now.  The toys that had belonged to Eleanor had gone in a separate box and were sent to Chicago on the train with Mom.  But Rudy had kept the things that belonged to himself, Woody, and Mary. Mom was too unstable emotionally by then to care what Rudy did with the old toys, and Rudy was too sentimental to part with them.  It was an uncharacteristic emotion for him in many ways, yet the toys were the only things he had left that connected him to Woody and Mary other than a few family photographs.

Rudy slipped back into his chair without Katori seeming to notice.  The child who’d thought that entertainment came only in a box you turned on and sat in front of, was soon engrossed in playing with toys that had gone out of fashion decades earlier. Rudy watched his young visitor play until suppertime, then slipped into the kitchen without the boy even noticing.  He had no idea what little kids liked to eat, but it was too hot to turn on the oven anyway, so he kept the meal simple.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sliced tomatoes, slices of cheddar cheese, and watermelon for dessert.

Based on the way Katori ate, Rudy knew the meal had met the boy’s approval.  When Rudy told the child to help him clear the table, Katori did so without balking.  He also didn’t protest when Rudy asked him to help dry the dishes after Rudy finished washing them. These things added up to another clue for Rudy.  Wherever this boy came from, he was used to being assigned household chores.  Not like those spoiled kids of Eleanor’s.  Three grown men living in their parents’ home and not lifting a finger to help their mother around the house, or help their father with outside chores like mowing the grass and raking leaves.  At least the two oldest ones had enough gumption to get jobs.  The younger one was in college. Or at least he had been when Rudy visited.  Still, there was no reason they couldn’t pull their weight around the house. When Rudy was their ages he was off to war.  He couldn’t imagine Eleanor’s kids going off to war.  They’d piss in their pants at the very notion of it. 

As Rudy watched Katori diligently dry a plate, he laughed to himself at the irony of it all.  He’d known this kid just a few hours, and already he thought more of him than he thought of his own nephews.

What was it Dad used to say?  Life’ll bring you surprises when you’re least expecting them?  Well, it sure does.  Who woulda’ thought when I woke up this morning that tonight I’d have a five year old runaway eatin’ supper with me.

After the dishes were put away, Rudy and Katori returned to the living room.  The boy played with the cars and trucks while Rudy did a crossword puzzle in the big book of crossword puzzles Farley had given him for his birthday. The sun hadn’t set yet when Rudy placed his book and pencil on the end table next to his chair and announced, “Better pick up those toys and put ‘em back in the box.  It’s bed time.”

“Already?” The boy looked out the screen door. “It’s still light outside.”

“No matter. We gotta get an early start tomorrow morning.”

“Where’re we goin’?”

“Rock hounding.”

“What’s that?”

“Just what it sounds like it is. Rock hounding. Looking for rocks.”

“Why’re we gonna do that?”

“For the jewelry I make. Necklaces. Bracelets. Rings. Stuff like that.”

“And I get to help you?”

“Guess you do. Unless Uncle Johnny shows up to get you before morning.”

“He might. But even if he does, I can still go rock hounding with you. Uncle Johnny’ll come to.  It sounds like something he’d like to do.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.”

Rudy had helped Katori return the toys to the box. He allowed the child to keep a metal die-cast fire engine out when Katori asked if he could take it to bed with him. 

“Don’t ya’ wanna take the teddy bear instead?”

“No.  I wanna take the fire engine.”

“A fire engine’s gonna be an awful uncomfortable thing to sleep with, don’t ya’ think?”

“I don’t care. I wanna take it to bed with me.”

“Okay. Have it your way.”

Rudy pushed the box against one wall rather than returning it to his closet.  If the boy was still with him the next day, the toys might keep him occupied for a while again.

The old man unplugged the fan and carried it to the bedroom.  While his guest used the bathroom, Rudy plugged the fan in and turned down his bed.  When the bathroom door opened, Rudy called, “Did you brush your teeth?”

“How could I? I don’t have my toothbrush with me.”

“That’s no excuse.”

Rudy went into the bathroom, opened the mirror that covered the medicine chest, and grabbed a tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush.  He’d been given the toothbrush the last time he was at the dentist.  He’d tossed it into the medicine chest where it joined a dozen toothbrushes he had yet to use.  After almost forty years of living here, he finally had an overnight guest who needed a toothbrush.

Rudy opened the package, pulled out the toothbrush, spread toothpaste on it, and handed it to Katori.

“Here. Brush ‘em good.  You don’t want false teeth by the time you’re my age.”

“Do you have false teeth?”

“Nope.”

“Then you’re right. I don’t want ‘em. Uncle Johnny doesn’t have false teeth, either.”

“Good for Uncle Johnny. Now get those teeth brushed and then come to the bedroom.”

While Katori did what he was told, Rudy went to his room and opened the closet door.  He grabbed two blankets, a sheet, and a pillow from the shelf. He spread one blanket on the floor next to his bed and put the pillow at the head of it.  He unfolded the sheet and remaining blanket.  Until the sun went down and the house cooled off, the boy wouldn’t need more than the sheet covering him. Later on in the night, he might want to pull up the blanket too.

When Katori entered the room carrying the fire truck, Rudy pointed to the floor. 

“There’s your bed.”

“It’s just like camping.”

“Yep. Just like that.”

“But I don’t have any pajamas.”

“No, I guess you don’t, do you?”

Rudy hadn’t given the issue of a change of clothes for the child a thought until then.  If the kid stayed with him more than a day or two, he’d have to get him some clothes.  Get him some clothes, or drop him off where someone would find him. Someone who wouldn’t hurt him of course, but would somehow get him back where he belonged. 

Kid, I hope this Uncle Johnny you’ve been yackin’ about is real, and that he shows up to get you before long.  I don’t care if he’s runnin’ from the law, or hidin’ out for some reason…as long as he treats you good and you wanna go with him, then he can have you ‘cause you’ve already caused me more trouble than I need.

Rudy focused back on the boy who was waiting for an answer about pajamas.

“Just take your shirt, shoes, and socks off.  Sleep in your shorts, okay? That’s the way Woody and I used to do it when we went camping.”

“Sometimes that’s the way I do it too, when I go camping with Uncle Johnny.”

“Then just pretend you’re camping tonight.”

“I kinda am, ‘cause I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, I guess you kinda are,” Rudy agreed as he left the room and headed for the bathroom.

By the time Rudy returned, his guest was sound asleep on his makeshift bed.  Rudy turned out the light, stripped to his boxer shorts, and slipped into his own bed.  Considering all of the concerns on his mind, he found himself drifting toward sleep quicker than he would have thought possible.  He was almost to that place of oblivion sleep brings when he woke with a start.

What if this Uncle Johnny the boy kept referring to was the man Rudy had seen by the side of the road?  What if the guy was dead, and therefore never coming for the boy?

Oh God, this just keeps getting worse. Not only will the cops claim I was the one who killed that guy, now they’ll claim I did it so I could kidnap this kid.

Rudy took deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

Don’t jump to conclusions.  This kid might be a runaway like you thought right from the start.  Or he might have gotten lost.  Or if his uncle is in some kinda trouble with the cops, maybe he made the kid head out on foot for some reason.  Maybe he was afraid the kid would give him away.

Rudy had no way of knowing which of his scenarios might be the case, if any.  And as he’d already thought could be a possibility, “Uncle Johnny” might not even exist beyond the imagination of Katori.

Because there was nothing Rudy could do about the situation at that moment, he finally settled down and went to sleep.  The sound of the fan whirling on its highest setting meant Rudy never heard his visitor wake up during the night and call out for his mother in the unfamiliar dark room. Nor did he hear the boy call for his father as he started to cry. Nor did he feel the boy climb up on his mattress in an effort to seek comfort.  It wasn’t until four-thirty the next morning when Rudy awoke that he saw Katori curled on top of the Indian blanket at the foot of his bed, the old fire engine that had belonged to Woody clutched to his chest.

After a quick breakfast of cereal and toast, they’d set off on their rock hounding expedition at dawn so they could be finished and back home before it got too hot.  Rudy had tied a bandana around Katori’s head to keep the sun off of it, then they’d hiked over the desert landscape that sprawled behind Rudy’s house.  Rudy carried his tools and his Thermos jug filled with water, while Katori carried the cloth rock bags along with a paper lunch sack containing two boxes of Cracker Jack and two bananas.

Rudy gave the boy credit. For a child so young, he was willing to do his fair share of the work.  Maybe that stemmed from no other reason than rock hounding was a new game to him, or maybe he had a genuine interest in it. Either way, Rudy didn’t care.  He was just grateful that the kid didn’t whine or cause a fuss.  By nine-thirty they were headed back to the house, their bags filled with rocks that Rudy could polish and make into sellable jewelry.  As they walked, Rudy noticed Katori kept pausing, shading his eyes with one hand, and looking in all directions, as though searching for someone.

“Who ya’ lookin’ for?”

The boy dropped his hand and ran to catch up to Rudy. 

“Uncle Johnny. He’s comin’ for me real soon, you know.”

“Yeah. Sure. I know,” Rudy agreed without much conviction. “But let’s get back to the house and wait for him there.  It’ll be cooler inside by the fan, and besides, we’ve got rocks to get polished.”

Rudy breathed a sigh of relief when there were no cops waiting at his doorstep.  He was certain that meant no one had seen him near the dead man, meaning the cops had no reason to bother him.

Well, no reason except for the short one walking by his side.  He’d have to make a decision about the boy soon.  Figure out a way to get him some place safe where he could get help.  But until the Bel Air was fixed that was a moot point. Rudy would need his car in order to drop Katori off at…well, maybe at a church, or a hospital, or even a fire station. Any place where there were good people willing to help a little kid find his way home.  Any place but with the police.  The police asked too many questions, and Rudy couldn’t trust Katori not to answer them truthfully when it came to saying where he’d been — who he’d been staying with after getting separated from Uncle Johnny…or whomever he’d been with before he climbed in Rudy’s car.

Rudy didn’t think twice about it as he led the boy to the house.  He’d lived alone since returning from the war, and had always thought he liked it that way.  Oddly enough, he suddenly found himself enjoying the companionship of his young visitor.

Rudy gave his head a rueful shake when he realized he’d been smiling as he watched Katori scamper into the house with a gleeful cry of, “We sure collected a lotta rocks today, Cloud Jumper! Come on! Show me what we gotta do with ‘em now.”

Like Dad said, life will bring you surprises when you’re least expecting ‘em.  The last thing I needed at my age was a surprise, but I guess I sure got me a doozey of one. A five-year old doozey who insists his name is Katori, sleeps with a fire truck instead of a teddy bear, and claims some guy named Uncle Johnny is coming for him soon.

Rudy shook his head again and followed Katori into the house. He’d thought about the child all morning, and still had no idea what to do with him.  It was time to set those worries aside for a little while.  After all, there was a boy waiting for him who was eager to learn how to polish rocks.

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