As the fire dwindled into embers, Gordon hoisted himself to his feet.
"C'mon Al, lets go grab some more wood for the fire."
Alan grunted and got up, and together the two youngest went over to the small woodpile that had been collected that morning for the campfire.
"Gordo, d'you think the guys would like some roasted mallows?"
Gordon's eyes lit up.
"I don't know but I sure would. You brought some?"
Alan nodded, his eyes gleaming in the half light.
"They're my all-time favourites. When I saw Virgil packing the toasting spikes, they made me remember the camp-out we had at school one year, and how we all toasted mallows over the campfire. So, I brought about ten bags along. I figured they would be popular…"
Gordon grinned.
"Great thinking bro. Let's go get 'em!"
When they returned to the campfire, Scott, John and Virgil had started to shiver and were huddled together for warmth. Gordon and Alan exchanged glances and grinned.
"Look at them. Three old women! Need your shawls, guys?"
Scott spluttered indignantly. Virgil laughed.
"You two took so long, we almost did grow old waiting. What do you have there, Alan?"
"A special treat. Mallows for toasting in the flames. Anyone interested?"
There was an instant excited lunge, and Alan passed round two bags of mallows, whilst Gordon handed out the toasting spikes. There was silence for a few minutes as the five brothers started toasting and tasting the delicious marshmallows.
"Alan, you're a genius!" Virgil muttered, his mouth full of delicious mallow. Alan laughed.
"You only just realized that, Virge? Whose turn is it now?"
"Turn for what?"
Alan rolled his eyes.
"To ask someone a question."
Scott looked thoughtful.
"Why not do it the other way around? Rather than taking turns to ask questions, it might be easier if we agree to take turns to be the one to do the talking. The rest of us can agree on what question we want to ask. Puts less pressure on the individual that way."
"Except for the one who has to answer the questions." Alan commented, then raised his hands in surrender.
"Okay, whatever. I'll go along with whatever you guys want."
Virgil finished the last of his mallow and leaned back on his elbows.
"Yum. Thanks Alan, that was a nice surprise. I could do with a nap now…just lie back under the stars and listen to the crackling of the fire…"
"In that case Virgil, you can take your turn to talk next, before you fall asleep." Gordon said, grinning at his brother. Virgil sighed and then nodded.
"Very well, let's get this over with. I doubt there is much about me you guys don't already know anyway."
That got everyone thinking. Alan cocked his head.
"Actually, there is one thing…"
He glanced round at his brothers and caught Scott's nod. Virgil turned his attention to his baby brother.
"What is it Squirt?"
"It is kinda personal…when we're on a mission, Virge, you are always there, you know what I mean? Solid and reliable, always knowledgeable and never doubting yourself. Even when I get nervous, you give me courage just by being so…you."
"Thanks Alan!" Virgil said, touched. "So, what is your question?"
"Uh…well, I have never seen or heard you show fear, but you would have to be insane not to get scared sometimes…some of the things we've seen. What scares you Virgil? Is there anything that scares you witless? Do you have a phobia that keeps you awake at night? How do you hide your fear so well?"
Gordon objected.
"That's not one question Alan, that's four!"
"Actually, it's two questions. What, if anything terrifies me, and how do I hide it. Right?" Virgil told him, with an affectionate smile at Alan. Alan nodded. Virgil inhaled deeply, then released it slowly, making the flames in front of him dance. He glanced up at Scott and John, who looked back at him with sympathy in their eyes. He looked back at his youngest brother.
Alan was braver than any of his brothers, in Virgil's opinion. Braver than himself. He knew how scared Alan sometimes was. It revealed itself in small things that Alan was probably unaware of. The way his hands shook ever so slightly, the slight pause and waver in his voice over the comms. But Alan had never complained of being afraid, never showed it openly, never faltered or held back. In fact, Alan was usually the most eager to get moving into the danger zone to get victims out. Eager…reckless, Scott sometimes said. He was frequently afraid but was as courageous as a lion. The revelation that Alan received at least part of his inspiration from him was humbling. He deserved an honest answer. This was going to hurt.
He found himself staring into the flames, his mind trawling back over memories he had long buried.
"I do have one phobia, Alan. I am…afraid of…death. I'm not afraid of dying myself, I'm afraid of losing people I care about. Especially you guys."
"So, on the rare occasion we lose someone on a rescue, it is especially hard on you?"
Virgil nodded, his expression dark.
"You could say that."
Alan ached to find out more, but the haunted look in his brother's eyes hurt him to see. Virgil reached out an arm and pulled him close. He smiled.
"It's okay Alan. I am supposed to talk about it. It is supposed to be therapeutic I'm told. It works when other people talk to me about their fears, but its harder to be the one doing the talking."
His eyes took on that faraway look again.
"I was just a little kid, Alan. You were a baby. Mom had died, and we were all missing her. I had been told my mom was dead, but I didn't really understand what that meant. A few weeks later I was in grandpa's truck with him. He was driving down to the local market to collect grandma when a car pulled out of a side-street right across our path. Grandpa turned the wheel to avoid hitting the car, which was small, and would have been flattened by our big truck. The truck bounced off a tree and rolled down the embankment and came to rest on its side in the field."
Virgil sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"I remember I opened my eyes and grandpa was looking at me, but he was not smiling. At first, I thought it meant he was mad at me, and I tried to say sorry, but he didn't answer me. Then I saw he wasn't blinking. I started to get scared. And tried to get him to say something. When I shook his shoulders trying to make him say something, anything, he flopped sideways, and I panicked and screamed and screamed and screamed."
Tears were slipping down Virgil's face at the memory. Tears were in his brothers' eyes too.
"I have some memory of screaming and screaming until my voice ran out, and then I just stared at grandpa lying there and not moving until someone found us. Later, dad and Scooter explained to me that what had happened to mom had happened to grandpa. Grandpa had died in the crash, and we were going to put him into the ground next to mommy. I think that was the very first time it hit me that mommy really was never ever going to come home again. I started dreaming after that, of that truck crash, but instead of grandpa in the driver's seat, it was always mom, lying there, staring at me without blinking and never moving."
Virgil blew his nose and wiped his eyes, glancing helplessly at Scott. Scott rubbed Virgil's shoulder affectionately and carried on.
"Virgil stopped talking after that, for almost two years. He became terrified of letting any of us out of his sight. Almost every night he would have the same nightmare about mom and grandpa and that truck crash. Every time we found a dead animal or bird, he would go into a panic and scream and scream until it was moved out of the way."
Virgil composed himself and resumed his story.
"Grandma suggested to dad that it might help me to see some sort of child counsellor, and so I started to see Tasha. She was young and pretty and smart. She was a former pediatric nurse, and she knew how to talk to kids. She helped me to understand that nothing that happened had been my fault. By then I was already terrified of letting anyone I loved out of my sight. I mean, I couldn't go to her office for my appointments, she had to come to our house, where I was comfortable."
"How long did you see her for, Virgil?" Gordon asked, his voice quiet and awed. Virgil turned to look at him.
"I still see her from time to time. Not as often as I did as a child, but especially if we have had a difficult rescue, or something tragic happens…"
Alan closed his eyes, trying vainly to suppress the waves of pity he felt for his older brother.
"Virge, how do you cope with all of that? You have never let on, never let it show!"
Virgil shrugged.
"How do you deal with any fear, Alan? You know the answer to that. You are often afraid on rescues, but you never let it show or let it get to you. What do you do to cope?"
Alan was taken aback.
"Oh…well I just figure that if I'm going to die young, I would rather die trying to help someone than die of fright sitting in a Thunderbird. So, I just dive right in. Act, not react."
"Exactly. You take action, Alan. You do something about it. I thought about all the ways that people around me might die, and I learned everything I could so that I could act and do something rather than just sitting back and letting things happen. I decided that I had to learn about medicine so that if my family or anyone we rescue is in danger of dying, at least I would know what to do to keep them alive if it is possible."
"So that's why you became a qualified paramedic? That's why you are always so hot and strict with us about reporting injuries or sicknesses to you? That is also why you get mad when we try to sneak stuff past you?"
Virgil nodded.
"Exactly, Alan. I deal with my phobia by knowing everything I can that might help to keep people alive. Medicine, mechanics and engineering. I know all of our machines inside out, I know how they work, how to repair them and how to use them. I am not scared of earthquakes or fires or anything like that. I am not afraid of going into the danger zones. I am simply afraid of someone dying in my charge. So, I go out of my way to see that they don't."
"That must lead to sleepless nights every now and then."
"Occasionally, but…what's that phrase dad always uses?"
Alan grinned.
"Bed time Boys?"