Chapter 11 –The Dying of the Light
LeBeau returned shortly after speaking with Vice Marshal Roberts, who had promised to come to the hospital later that morning. When LeBeau found out that Mavis was going back to Jo and Peter's flat, he volunteered to accompany her on her errand. He first extracted agreement from Jo that she would get some more rest whilst they were gone.
Jo saw them both to the door, where LeBeau shook his head at her offer of a few quid for cab fare and took her firmly by the shoulders to guide her back to the sofa. She finally acquiesced and they left. She poured herself a fresh cuppa before she leaned back and unsuccessfully tried to quiet her roiling thoughts. She finished her tea and drew her legs up and closed her eyes, trying to relax enough to fall asleep. But she found she simply could not sleep; the image of her husband lying helpless in his bed and in such extreme distress branded her memory.
Despite her brave words to McFarland, she found herself suddenly overcome by an immense, crippling wave of sorrow. Her eyes popped open and she gasped in physical pain as she clearly realized what she needed to do. She sat up and took several deep breaths to try to calm herself. She needed to begin planning, planning for the worst. She buried her face in her hands as the sobs overwhelmed her.
When Mavis and LeBeau returned they were relieved to find Jo curled up on the sofa, asleep. Stress, anxiety and exhaustion had finally taken its' toll on her. LeBeau gestured to Mavis with a finger to his lips. They both quietly set down the duffle bags and parcels they had brought from the flat before moving to sit on the far side of the room.
Mavis sighed noiselessly, "I'm glad she's finally gettin' some rest."
"Yes," nodded LeBeau. "Poor chérie. She does not deserve this trial."
"No, she doesn't. I'm so glad Peter's got a good woman like Jo to love 'im."
LeBeau looked at Mavis affectionately. "He has a good sister who loves him as well, no? Mon ami is very fortunate."
Mavis gave him a wan smile in return. "Thanks Louis. We only 'ad each other when we were growin' up. I don't know what I'd do without 'im."
"You will not have to face that Mavis. Pierre will overcome this. I know he will!"
"I pray yer right Louis. I pray yer right."
They sat quietly for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. A soft knock sounded at the door, and LeBeau jumped up quickly to answer it. "Excuse me a moment chérie."
Vice Marshal Roberts stood before him. LeBeau stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him. "Robbie! I am very happy to see you."
"I did say I would come round to visit by mid-morning, didn't I old man?" Roberts answered with a bemused smile.
"Oui you did. I nearly forgot. We have been very distracted this morning."
Roberts nodded. "To say the least. How is Newkirk faring? Is he any better?"
LeBeau shook his head sadly. "No. There has been no improvement. The doctors have not yet been able to stabilize him to their satisfaction."
"I am genuinely sorry to hear that Louis." He draped an arm around LeBeau's shoulders and guided him along beside him. "Why don't we take a walk? Give you a chance to clear your head a bit."
LeBeau sighed as he began to walk beside Roberts. "Perhaps you are right."
LeBeau and Roberts walked the hallways with no clear destination in mind. Roberts' intention had been simply to give LeBeau a chance to gain a bit of distance from Newkirk's crisis, if only for a brief few minutes.
They were headed back to the waiting room when Doctor McFarland approached and attached himself to them. LeBeau introduced Roberts to McFarland and got the distinct feeling that they already were acquainted. LeBeau worried over the reason for the doctor's presence.
"Has there been a change with Pierre?"
McFarland nodded slowly. "I am afraid so Mr. LeBeau." They came to a stop before the door to the waiting room. "Are the ladies indisposed? Should I come back later?"
"No!" LeBeau shook his head. "Josephine will want to see you. One moment gentlemen." He slipped into the room alone. Mavis was still sitting quietly on the other side of the room. She stood as she saw LeBeau's expression.
"Louis? Is somethin' wrong?"
"I do not know, chérie. Doctor McFarland wishes to speak to us. Would you mind awakening Josephine? Please tell her that Vice Marshal Roberts is here as well." He moved to step back out into the hallway to give Mavis and Jo a bit of privacy. "I will wait outside until you and Josephine tell me you are ready."
Mavis nodded and moved over to the sofa to rouse Jo. "Jo! Wake up! The doctor needs to speak with you." She grasped Jo's shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "C'mon dear! Wake up!"
Jo finally opened her eyes. "M-Mave?"
"Sorry to haveta wake you Jo but the doctor needs to come in and talk to you. Oh and Louis said to tell you that Vice Marshal Roberts is also here."
Oh no! The doctor must have news of Peter! Jo quickly pulled herself together and nodded to Mavis to let the men into the room.
Mavis opened the door, "C'mon in Louis."
LeBeau, Roberts and McFarland entered the room. McFarland sat on the sofa next to Jo and began speaking, "I came to tell you that we have stabilized Mr. Newkirk's condition as much as possible. However, he continues to deteriorate. For some unknown reason, he is not yet responding to the antibiotic protocol. We have not seen even a marginal level of improvement. He is slowly but definitely worsening." McFarland took Jo's hands in his own as he mulled over how he would deliver the most devastating part of his news.
"I am very sorry to say he appears to be slipping away even sooner than we thought. I believed he had at least a week, but now...if he lapses into coma..." McFarland sighed and lowered his head. Jo well knew what that meant - imminent death.
Mavis began sobbing and Roberts gently took her arm to escort her to a seat on the sofa beside Jo. He knelt down and handed her a handkerchief.
Jo felt strangely detached and simply stared at the wall opposite. She nodded distractedly. "Thank…thank you doctor."
McFarland looked at her, genuinely concerned at her demeanor. "We are doing all we can for him Mrs. Newkirk. We are not giving up."
Jo finally met his eyes with her own. "I know. Thank you." The doctor released her hands and rose. He suddenly knelt back down and put a hand on her shoulder. He whispered, "Would you like a sedative?"
Jo shook her head and whispered back, "No. No thank you. I'll be fine. I-I-I'll…be…be…" She couldn't finish as she completely dissolved into great, heaving sobs. LeBeau swiftly moved to her side and took her into his arms.
"Cry chérie, cry. Cry as long as you need to." He gently stroked her hair as she buried her face into his shoulder.
McFarland rose and spoke to them all. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am."
Roberts stood up and reached to shake McFarland's hand. "Thank you doctor. Please keep us informed."
"Yes, of course I will," McFarland nodded and left. Roberts sat down beside Mavis and put a supportive hand on her shoulder.
LeBeau and Roberts remained, trying to comfort the distraught women until they each cried themselves into exhaustion. They gently settled Jo and Mavis onto the sofa and covered them with blankets. The two men then stepped out into the hallway.
"I know this has to be absolutely shattering for you Louis." Roberts put his arm around LeBeau's shoulder. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am for you all."
LeBeau nodded despondently. "Oui. It is heartbreaking to see Josephine and Mavis so upset. I pray they will not lose themselves to their grief. It is easy to do so when faced with such tragedy."
Roberts nodded. "I was going to ask to see Newkirk but given his condition I believe I will wait." He removed his arm from LeBeau's shoulders and patted him encouragingly on the back. "If you will excuse me, I must return to my office. There is a very urgent call I simply must make. I will contact you and let you know when I will return." He looked LeBeau straight in the eyes. "Keep your chin up old man. Don't give up hope. Those ladies in there need you to be strong for them."
"Oui, you are right." LeBeau reached out to shake Roberts' hand. "I must not waver, no matter how difficult it seems to be right now. Pierre would not want me to do so."
Roberts turned to leave and spoke over his shoulder. "You will hear from me shortly Louis."
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The next morning, LeBeau and Mavis made another trip to Peter and Jo's flat. They brought everything they needed in order to maintain their vigil as Peter fought the seemingly losing battle for his life.
Mavis tried to convince her sister-in-law to come back to the flat for a short while to get some quiet and rest, but Jo categorically refused.
"Mave...I...I...just can't. How could I possibly sleep in our bed, knowing Peter is here alone fighting for his life?"
"'e won't be alone Jo! Louis and I will be 'ere for 'im!"
Jo reached out and grasped Mavis' arm. "I'm sorry Mave. You're right. It's just that I can't leave him right now. What if he...what if he..." She swallowed hard and made herself say the words. "What…if he...died...whilst I was gone? I'd...I'd never forgive myself."
Mavis sighed and hugged Jo. She knew what it cost her to speak those words. "I know, dear. I know." She released Jo and held her at arm's length. "Yer right Jo. You need to be 'ere in case Peter..." Mavis found that she, on the other hand, simply couldn't say those words.
Jo sadly nodded her understanding and headed for the door. Mavis called after her, "Where're ya goin' Jo?"
"I need to call my mum and dad, Mave. I need to…to…bring Robbie in to…say…good-bye…to his father." She dropped her face into her hands for a moment and then straightened, refusing to fall apart. I must get used to this pain. For the sake of our boys, I must! Mavis had started to approach her and she waved her off. "Please Mave, don't. I have to do this. I'll…I'll be fine."
Mavis ignored Jo's comment and caught up to her before she left. "Jo, you just said you don't want to leave Peter. Let me go and bring young Robbie to you."
Jo leaned her head against the edge of the door and closed her eyes. "Are you sure Mave?" Mavis nodded emphatically.
Jo gave her a quick hug before she slipped out the door. She sought out the nurse who had been assisting them since they arrived and soon found herself in an empty private office with a telephone.
She sat down slowly and paused to take a deep breath before she lifted the receiver and dialed her parents' number. The phone rang only once before someone picked up.
"Hello?"
"Mum?"
"Oh Jo! I'm so glad to hear from you. We've been so worried."
She couldn't help herself, her facade of self-control crumbled at the loving concern in her mum's voice.
"Oh mum…." Her voice broke and trailed off into a muffled sob.
"What's wrong Jo?"
"He…he's…"
"No Jo! It can't be…"
She managed to get the horrible news out all at once. "Peter's not doing at all well mum. The doctors think he won't pull through this time."
"Oh my darling girl…!"
"I'm sending Mave over to come get Robbie so he can say goodbye to his Da while there's still time."
"Oh Jo….do you think that's..." Her mum paused and seemed to reconsider what she had been about to say. "You do whatever you think best dear. Why don't your father and I bring both the boys to you in hospital? It's been nearly a week since you've seen them."
"I know mum. It just couldn't be helped." She still felt guilty about the boys.
"I realize that dear. Let us do this for you. If things are as grim as you say, we need to be there as well. We also need to say our goodbyes to your darling Peter."
"I know mum, but…Andrew is too young. I don't think it would be good to have him at hospital right now. I'd just like for Robbie to come now if you could get him ready…" she trailed off, increasingly distraught at the words that were coming out of her mouth. "I'll call you when the…when the…time draws nearer…"
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. "Jo, I realize that this is dreadfully difficult. Send Mavis over as soon as you can, dear. I'll have Robbie dressed and ready. Jo, please try to stay strong, for both your husband and your boys. Give all our love to Peter."
"I, I will, mum..."
"Jo?"
"Y-yes mum?"
"Remember, you are wrapped in my arms with a thousand kisses."
Jo just had to smile at the childhood remembrance. Her mum would tuck her in bed each night with that phrase. She had kept the tradition alive with the boys, tucking them in each night with that exact same phrase.
"Yes mum. I love you and dad too."
"Whatever happens my darling girl, we shall get through it together."
Jo rang off and laid her head down on the cool surface of the desktop for just a minute, seeking to regain some measure of composure. She needed to gather all her wits about her, for she needed to be strong, as strong as she could possibly be, for the sake of her sons. She took a deep breath and got up to send Mavis on yet another errand for her.
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A pair of puzzled, five year old eyes watched her warily. "Mum? Why are you crying mum?"
Jo tried to stop her sobs but wasn't able to. She pulled Robbie up and sat him on her lap, gazing into his green eyes as she again tried to collect herself. He certainly has his dad's beautiful eyes, she mused. She finally calmed down enough to speak to her eldest son.
"Robbie, do you remember what we told you when you and Andrew went to your gran's?"
Robbie shook his head.
"Your Da got sick, remember? And he didn't want you or your brother to get sick because of him so we asked your gran and granddad to take care of you."
Robbie, an increasingly confused expression on his face, stared into Jo's eyes as she continued.
"Your Da hasn't gotten any better Robbie. He's gotten much worse. That's why we're here in the hospital. Your Da is trying his best to get better dear, but I have to tell you that it may be that he might not get better."
"If he'll take a nap he'll get better! That's what Da tells me when I don't feel good!"
Jo felt her heart ache at those innocently optimistic words. She nodded slowly, barely keeping her voice from breaking. "You're right dear. Sometimes a nap makes us feel better if we're not real sick. But your Da is very, very sick Robbie." She took her son's hands in hers and looked him straight in his face. "Robbie, sometimes daddies get so very sick, they can't get better. And because they're so sick, they become very tired. Sometimes they...they...fall asleep and…and…they…never wake up." She swallowed the sob that rose into her throat.
Robbie had never in his short life seen his mum so upset. He put a hand on each side of her face and drew her closer. He whispered, "Mum is Da tired?"
Jo looked her firstborn in his puzzled eyes and nodded. "I'm afraid so darling. He's very, very tired."
The sadness radiating from his mum's eyes frightened Robbie. "But mum! Da would never leave us!"
"Oh no my darling boy! He would never leave us willingly! No, no, no! Your Da loves all of us more than….more than…life itself." She took Robbie in her arms and hugged him impossibly tight. She'd made a proper mess of this hadn't she? How do you explain death to a youngster? How could she possibly explain to this child that after tonight, he might not ever see his beloved Da again?
The door opened and LeBeau began to enter; he stopped as he realized what he was interrupting. "Pardonnez-moi! I did not know…"
Jo didn't release Robbie or even turn around as she spoke. "No Louis, it's all right. Please come in."
LeBeau quietly closed the door and approached mother and son. Robbie looked up in surprise. "Uncle Louis!"
"Hello Robert."
Robbie shook his head. "No, Uncle Louis, not 'Ro-Bare'! It's Robbie! Remember what Da told you?"
"Ah oui, I forgot. Please forgive me mon petit." It was a running joke between Newkirk and his French mate. He allowed Louis to call him Pierre only on the condition that Louis always referred to the boys by their names with no French pronunciations. LeBeau knelt in front of Jo and extended his arms. "Come Robbie!"
Robbie squirmed out of his mother's arms and jumped enthusiastically into LeBeau's embrace. Jo dropped her head back into her hands, unsuccessfully trying to hold in her sobs. Robbie turned to look back at his mum, cocking his head in bewilderment. The familiarity of the gesture made LeBeau's heart ache.
"Uncle Louis why is mum crying so?"
"She is very worried about your papa Robbie. He is very sick."
Robbie's brow furrowed as he again cocked his head to stare at LeBeau. The Frenchman sighed to himself, Oh Robbie, please stop doing that! You are breaking my heart!
"Mum said that Da is tired."
LeBeau nodded. "Oui Robbie, he is."
"She said he might go to sleep and never wake up. Is that true Uncle Louis?"
LeBeau swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled his friend's oldest son into a fierce hug. "Oui, Robbie. It is possible. Your papa is very sick." He drew back and sighed as he looked Robbie in his eyes. He shook his head at the reminder he saw. Les yeux de l'enfant sont au vert, tout comme son père. "But your papa, he is strong. He will not leave us without a fight. Do not give up hope mon petit."
Those familiar-looking green eyes now brimmed with unshed tears. "Uncle Louis I don't want my Da to leave us!"
LeBeau wrapped his arms around Robbie and began gently rocking him. "Neither do I, mon petit. Neither do I. Your dear papa does not want to leave us."
"If he doesn't want to leave then why would he?" Robbie cried.
LeBeau whispered sadly, "Because, mon petit, sometimes we do not have a choice."
Robbie wrapped his arms around LeBeau and buried his face in the Frenchman's coat as he burst into tears. LeBeau held him close, gently stroking his hair as he softly murmured to him in French. I am sorry Pierre, I cannot keep our agreement right now. Your son needs comfort.
Robbie finally cried himself into exhaustion and fell asleep in LeBeau's arms. He got up and very quietly lay the child on the sofa. He built a barrier of pillows so Robbie wouldn't roll off the sofa and then covered him with a blanket. He gently patted Robbie's head. Sommeil mon petit. Vous verrez votre père. He then walked over to where Jo sat.
"Josephine, listen to me chérie." LeBeau sat down next to Jo and placed his hand on her cheek, drawing her eyes to his. "Do not do this to your son. Please. Let him remember Pierre as healthy and vigorous. Not as pale and choking, gasping for air like a dying fish. Do you want his last memory of his dear papa to be like this?"
Jo slowly shook her head. "No Louis! I don't want him to see Peter like this…but…he, he needs to say good bye….doesn't he?"
LeBeau reached over and gently drew Jo's head down onto his shoulder. "Oh chérie, Pierre is still alive. He is still fighting. Surely you have not given up hope?"
"No….yes…" Jo raised her head to look at LeBeau. "Oh Louis! I simply do not know…" she dissolved into sobs and LeBeau took her in his arms.
"Josephine, chérie, shhhhh….." he gently massaged her back as he held her. "Pierre will not give up chérie. He did not give up before."
"He's…he's…so tired Louis. You can…only fight…so much…" Jo's words hitched with her sobs.
"Oui Josephine. You are right. But remember, our Pierre fights beyond the point where most men give up."
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Jo sat alone in the waiting room, contemplating the sandwich on the plate before her. Even though it was already evening and she hadn't eaten all day, she found she could not force down even one bite and so gave up. She simply had no appetite for any food and settled instead for another cup of tea. She sighed heavily. She had relented to LeBeau's pleading and asked Mavis to take Robbie back to his grandparents' house without allowing him see Peter. She, Mavis and LeBeau repeatedly assured Robbie before he left that his father would be better soon. She only hoped they had not been lying to him.
Given Peter's condition, Doctor McFarland now allowed them to remain at his bedside for as long as they wished. LeBeau had taken the opportunity to sit with his friend whilst Jo tried to eat and rest up a bit. Before he left for Peter's room, he told her that Roberts had called and that he would be arriving within the hour. Jo promised LeBeau that she would ask a nurse to inform him when the Vice Marshal arrived.
Jo sat back and closed her eyes. She vacillated between extreme grief and empty numbness. She wished with all her heart that this entire episode was merely a horrible nightmare from which she would wake to find her husband sleeping peacefully beside her.
Jo heard a knock at the door and didn't bother to arise, assuming it was Vice Marshal Roberts. She called over her shoulder, "Robbie? Please come in."
The door swished open and she heard an unfamiliar voice reply with more than a touch of humor, "You know, the only person who can get away with calling me that nowadays is my mother."
Jo turned, completely surprised. A tall, dark haired man in the uniform of a U.S. Air Force General stood in front of her, a bemused grin on his face.
"General Hogan?" Jo couldn't keep the shock out of her voice. "I…I'm sorry...I was expecting Vice Marshal Roberts."
"He's parking the car. He dropped me off and sent me on ahead."
The General tossed his coat and hat on a chair before he approached to sit at Jo's side. He gently took her hands in his. "Tell you what, it would be far less confusing if you'd just call me Rob. You can call me Robbie if you insist, just please don't do it in front of anybody else. Especially not in front of Peter or Louis! I'd never hear the end of it!"
Jo swallowed hard, trying to squelch her emotion at the mention of her husband. "Peter…isn't…he isn't…doing very well…"
Hogan nodded sadly. "I know. Robbie, that is, Vice Marshal Roberts called me yesterday. When he told me Peter's condition, I got on the next available transport."
Jo dropped her head briefly and then looked the General in the eyes. "I don't know how to begin to thank you for helping Peter the way you have…"
Embarrassed, Hogan waved one hand slightly. "I wouldn't've been able to live with myself if I didn't do what I could for him. Peter was one of my best men and he made a great many…sacrifices during the war. What kind of person would I be to forget that?"
Jo noted Hogan's slight hesitation and wondered exactly what he meant by 'sacrifices'. She cast her curiosity aside when he abruptly asked, "May I see Peter?"
She nodded and ran a hand through her hair as she tried to gather her thoughts. "Louis is already there with him. I know he will be very happy to see you."
The General rose to help her to her feet and they exited the room together.
A/N The chapter title refers to the refrain from Dylan Thomas' poem "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night"
