The Waking Man, Chapter Three
Eight weeks later, Spock found himself back under the welcoming Terran sun on another clear morning, this time in a rented flitter heading from Atlanta to Macon. The treaty negotiations had gone on much longer than they should have—indeed, the stubbornness of the Delarians could tax even a Vulcan's patience—but it was finally done, he had finally caught up with the work he had missed on Vulcan, and he was finally going to see Saavik's newest great-grandchild.
First, however, he wanted to pay a visit to an old friend. His last communication with McCoy concerned him. McCoy had said that he had cut back to spending only one day a week at Crawford Long, and Spock wanted to see for himself how McCoy was doing.
He stopped in front of McCoy's house, and he was encouraged to find that the yard was in good shape. In his experience, one of the first signs of an inability to cope with everyday life was a neglected yard, but the grass was neatly trimmed and edged, and a bed of red and white impatiens flourished around the manicured shrubs. He climbed the two front steps and signaled his presence. When no one answered, he signaled again and tried the door. It was locked. There was a flitter in the driveway, and although it was possible that someone had taken Dr. McCoy somewhere, he uneasily rapped on the door. Still no response.
He left the porch and slipped between the shrubs to peer in the nearest window. There was no one in the living room, but since McCoy's bedroom was in the back, this was not conclusive. He hurried around to the side of the house, shielding his eyes to look in each window he passed.
The shades in the bedroom were drawn, but he noticed that the kitchen window was open just a crack. He worked his fingers into the opening, and had just begun to try to force the window upward when a voice from behind asked firmly, "May I help you?"
Spock whirled to find a tall woman standing next to the birdbath, a potted marigold in one hand and a trowel in the other. The knees of her denim overalls were dirty, and she wore well-used gardening gloves. She also had a dark blue baseball cap on her head with a red bill and a large white "A" on the front, and when he looked closer, he realized that she was Vulcan.
He could not help but sag slightly against the side of the house. "Excuse me. I did not mean to intrude. When I did not receive a response at the front door, I became concerned."
She took a step closer and squinted her eyes against the sun. "Ambassador Spock?"
He studied her face. "Dr. T'Val. Forgive me. I did not recognize you at first because of..." He pointed vaguely at the cap on her head.
"Oh, this." She put the trowel on the edge of the birdbath, then took the cap off and looked at it. A few loose strands of hair escaped from her ponytail. "I suppose that it does hide my face, which is actually desirable because Sol tends to cause freckles to appear on my nose." She used her forearm to brush the hair away from her forehead, and she replaced the cap. The marigold was still in her hand, and dirt had sprinkled onto her cheek when she lifted her arm, but she did not appear to notice it.
He moved closer to the edge of the small back porch. "I confess that I am quite surprised to find you here."
"Leonard needs help with a few things, so I try to drop by occasionally."
"That is kind of you."
"The kindness is mutual. He took me under his wing, to use one of his phrases, when I was hired at Crawford Long. I was new at being a doctor, and I do not know what I would have done without him."
"Indeed?" Spock frowned as he attempted to piece together the chronology. "To the best of my knowledge, Dr. McCoy has only been consulting at Crawford Long for twenty-four years. I would have thought that you were older, ah, that is to say, you strike me as someone with more than twenty-four years experience in the medical field."
She almost appeared to smile. "If you mean that I seem too old to have been a doctor for only twenty-four years, I have actually been a doctor for only nineteen years. It was a late career change."
He allowed the corner of his mouth to rise in response. "I see. Forgive my blunder. I am quite familiar with the concept of late career changes."
The amusement was evident in her eyes when she nodded. "Leonard is fortunate to have a friend who would be so concerned that he would attempt to break into his home."
"And he is fortunate to have a friend who would risk freckles on her nose for the sake of keeping his yard neat."
"He is more than a friend. He is like a father to me."
Spock abruptly realized that he had completely forgotten about McCoy. "Where is the good doctor?"
"He had an appointment in town, as well as some errands to run. He will be sorry he missed you."
"Perhaps you will be kind enough to tell him I came by, and that I will contact him before I return to Vulcan."
"I will." She seemed to remember that she still held the marigold. "This is the last flower I have to plant. Before you go, do you have a suggestion about where I might put it?"
Spock stepped down from the porch and looked around the yard. "I am not familiar with that variety. Does it require sun or shade?"
...
McCoy grabbed the handle over the door and pulled himself to his feet, and reached back into his flitter for the two lightest bags. He was surprised to see T'Val's small flitter still in the driveway. Maybe he could talk her into staying for supper. He slowed down to climb up onto the first front step, and the second, and then palmed the lock and went into the house.
Carrying the bags into the kitchen, he looked around and decided that she must still be in the back yard. That's what she'd been doing when he left, and he wondered what she could have found out there to keep her busy for so long.
When he neared the back door, he realized from the murmur of voices that she wasn't alone. He walked out the back door and stopped quickly when he discovered who the other person was. Spock and T'Val sat side-by-side on the back step with gardening gloves, a trowel, and a potted marigold between them.
"Well, Spock! What brings you here?" he asked.
Both Spock and T'Val stood and brushed the dust from the seats of their pants. "Dr. McCoy," said Spock. "Greetings. I was on my way to Saavik's, and I thought I would stop here."
"I'm glad you did. Come on in, both of you. Let me fix you something cold to drink."
Spock looked up at the sun and across the yard at the lengthening shadows. "Actually, I must go. Saavik expected me several hours ago."
"Are you sure?" asked McCoy. "I'd love to have a chat."
Spock had begun backing toward the side of the house. "Forgive me for rushing off, but Saavik will already be quite exasperated with me. I will be at her home for four days, and I will contact you before I leave."
"That sounds good. You be sure and tell her I said hello."
"I shall do that." He nodded toward T'Val. "It was agreeable talking with you, T'Val."
"I enjoyed our discussion, too. Have a good visit with Saavik and the rest of your family."
"Thank you." He nodded, and vanished around the side of the house.
T'Val picked up the marigold. "Allow me a minute to put this in the ground, and I will help you with your grocery bags."
"Will you stay for supper?"
"Yes, of course."
"Great!" McCoy went back into the house, but he paused to look out the window at T'Val. She watched the sky until Spock's flitter had passed overhead, and then put on her gloves and started toward the back of the yard. Well. This was an interesting development. He'd have to make sure that it developed some more.
...
Spock sat in a beach chair watching the children play in the surf while Saavik, next to him, bounced the baby on her knee.
"Steven!" she called out. "Do not eat the sand! Sylvia, make him stop that. Sylvia!"
Sylvia continued to jump in the waves, obviously unable to hear, so Saavik handed the baby to Spock and trotted toward Steven. "Steven! Spit that out."
Spock held the baby in front of him, and she gurgled around her fist. A small froth of saliva bubbles trickled from the corner of her mouth, so he shifted her to one arm and used the hem of his shirt to wipe her chin.
He watched Saavik pull a seashell out of Steven's mouth and sternly tell him not to do that again. Steven was only three, but he was certainly old enough to know better. Saavik shook her head as she walked back in Spock's direction.
Sitting down, she said, "He and Juanita were supposedly having a contest to see who could hold the most sand in his or her mouth. He was going first. I hope he is not sick later." She held her arms out for the baby, but Spock pretended not to see her.
"The sand is no less sanitary than the ocean water they swallow every day," he said.
"Perhaps you are correct. I will take Rachel now."
"She is content here."
"Look, she is blowing raspberries."
Spock glanced down to see that more spittle had collected on her chin. "Raspberries?"
"That is what it is called when babies do that." Saavik again held out her hands for the baby. "Come to me, little girl."
"As I said, she is content." Spock decided to change the subject. "Dr. McCoy asked that I say hello to you on his behalf."
"How is he?"
"He seems to be doing well. Of course, 'well' is a relative term, but he is still quite vigorous for his age. He has a friend who helps him, but for the most part he is independent."
"How old is he now?" She leaned toward him, but he shifted in his chair so she could not reach the baby.
"He is one hundred and thirty two years old. I have only known one other human who lived so long."
"There is a woman in town who is one hundred and thirty. She used to be a patient of Michael's, and he still stops to see her occasionally." Saavik pointed toward the baby. "Rachel needs to have her diaper changed."
"Very well. You may have her."
Spock handed her to Saavik, who gave him a shrewd look before carrying the baby up toward the house. She was only halfway there when Michael leaned out the back door and yelled something. Spock could not understand him over the noise of the ocean, but Saavik evidently did because she turned back and shouted, "Spock! You have a call."
He came to his feet and crossed the beach toward the house. When he reached Saavik, she handed the baby to him and said, "I'll stay out here and watch the children. Perhaps you can take care of Rachel after your call."
Spock accepted her, and she blew bubbles as he carried her to the house. When he reached the back door, he held her out toward Michael.
"Saavik said that she needs a fresh diaper," he said. "I will take the call in the office."
"Okay."
Michael took her, and as Spock walked down the hall toward the office, he heard Michael going in the opposite direction, evidently 'blowing raspberries' himself. He shook his head at the foolish things humans did when presented with a baby, and he sat down at the desk.
"Computer, accept call."
The screen brightened to show McCoy's face.
"Greetings, Doctor."
"Hi, Spock. Are you having a good visit?"
"Yes. It has been quite pleasant. Everyone is here for the weekend, so Saavik has a full house."
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
"Not at all. The younger adults have all gone deep-sea fishing for the day, so Saavik, Michael, and I are watching the children, who are playing on the beach at the moment."
"How's that new baby? I'll bet she's as cute as a button."
"She is very engaging, although exhausting. Cecilia said that she had been sleeping through the night prior to this visit, but we have all lost a great deal of sleep since she has been here."
"Yeah, well, that happens sometimes when their routines get disrupted. She'll settle down about the time you all leave." McCoy rubbed his chin. "Hey, Spock. My environmental controls have been acting up recently, and every time the serviceman comes out here something new goes wrong. Do you think you could take a look at it before you leave?"
"I will be pleased to do so, but have you asked T'Val to investigate your problems? Perhaps she could help you."
"T'Val? She knows about as much about computers as I do. Contrary to what you might think, it's a myth that all Vulcans are computer geniuses."
Spock raised an eyebrow at McCoy's sarcastic barb. "When would you like for me to come?"
"Are you doing anything tonight? Say around 1900 hours?"
"I have no plans. That time is good."
"Okay, then. I'll see you tonight. McCoy out."
Spock closed the communication channel and stood. He could hear Rachel crying upstairs, and he knew that it was time for her nap. Michael was probably attempting to help her go to sleep.
He headed back out toward the beach.
...
As soon as the screen grew dark, McCoy clapped his hands together and rubbed them, then addressed the computer again.
"Computer. Contact T'Val at Crawford Long Medical Center."
He concentrated on wiping the grin off his face before she answered.
End chapter three