A FATAL REUNION – CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Joanne stood silent for a moment, considering what she just witnessed. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before rolling Roy's wheelchair away from Johnny's bedside. She knelt to look face-to-face with her husband.
"Roy," she gently admonished, "Johnny is very weak now, but he's still a fighter, and I believe he's trying as hard as he can. Please, Honey…please don't let him think you've given up on him."
Roy melted into her embrace and closed his eyes, "I know, Jo, I know. It's just... I know all of this machinery is necessary. But...Johnny would hate this so much! If he really wants this...he'll find a way to show me."
He was quiet for a moment, then suddenly, he took a shuddering breath, gasping for air between shouts, "It's not right, dammit...and I want answers! I want...to know why! Why would Carla...waltz back in...to Johnny's life and...and lead him on if...if she just wanted him dead? I'm angry as hell and I want...to know WHY!?" He thumped a fist on the armrest of his wheelchair, then bowed his head, ashamed of his outburst.
"Roy!" Dr. Brackett exclaimed, "Look!"
Johnny's fingers on his left hand were clenching and releasing slowly and his closed eyes pinched tighter for a moment, then relaxed again.
"Johnny?" Brackett asked, tentatively, "Can you hear me?"
There was no other movement, but it was easy to acknowledge that Johnny had indeed reacted to Roy's voice.
"As soon as this IV of milk thistle is finished, I'll take another blood sample," Dr. Marquardt announced. "I want to check his liver enzymes and prothrombin time. If the milk thistle is working, those numbers should be decreasing."
He turned to face Johnny's friends, "He's on his third dose now. I believe he'll need at least four before we can decide on his recovery status. Now, as you know, each IV will take some time to run through and be tested, so if you choose to stay, be prepared for it to be awhile."
Roy wanted to comment, but was simply exhausted. The toxins from the mushroom were gone, but the side effects would linger for a few weeks, he was told. He was still dizzy, his muscles were weak and he tired quickly. Giving Johnny permission to die was the hardest thing he'd ever done, and with it, his energy had all but evaporated. Still...he had felt it was necessary. He wasn't going to be fooled into a false sense of security, and there was no way he wanted Johnny to suffer needlessly.
"I think Roy needs some rest," Joanne told them softly as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to bring him back to his room for some lunch and maybe a nap before we come back."
Roy lifted his head and said barely louder than a whisper, "No sleeping. I'm...gonna stay here…much as I can. Don't want him... alone...if he dies."
Brackett leaned in, "It'll be okay, Roy. You need to keep your strength up, too. I promise we'll let you know the second anything changes."
He knew he wasn't going to win this, so with a resigned sigh, Roy nodded and pointed toward the door. Joanne grasped the handles of the wheelchair and slowly guided him toward the exit. Roy turned his head to look back at his partner, once again motionless in the bed.
"Hang in there, Junior...I'll be back," he said so quietly no one could hear.
E!E!E!E!E!
Ben Culver felt utterly useless and anxious for direction. He stood looking around his kitchen, trying to think of something he could do to keep his mind off the fact that all that was left of his sister now sat in an urn on the counter. Forty-eight hours ago, he still had family. Now, here he stood, tapped-out and exhausted by everything that he learned in that time span.
Once he viewed and identified Carla's body, it was only a short time before it was sent to the crematorium. While Ben waited for someone to tell him what to do next, Dr. Morton and a police officer had both sat with him in the corner of the waiting area and told him everything Carla had done. When the officer told him quietly that Carla was a suspect in the attempted murder of John Gage and the nearly fatal poisoning of Roy DeSoto, he remembered feeling faint and Morton offering him a cup of water. The officer had held him by the elbow to prevent his falling to the floor.
Now that she was dead, Carla couldn't be jailed or tried, they said, so the hospital and the police department had both given Ben permission to claim her body. Minutes ago, Ben had returned from the crematorium with Carla's ashes and he couldn't shake the memory of when they had placed the box in his hands, it had still been warm. So shocked by the feel of it in his hands, he nearly dropped the box to the floor and fled. Then the mortician had smiled and asked him about "final resting places." Ben had only blinked at him for a few moments before realizing they wanted to know what he intended to "do" with Carla's ashes.
"We have a lovely display of urns and assorted containers in the showroom, Mr. Culver," the man told him, but Ben merely shrugged.
He wanted to run away and forget any of this had happened, but it seemed no one would allow it. He pointed wordlessly to the first one he saw and wrote out the check without even asking the price. The urn was plain bronze with no decorations or embellishments and it seemed to mock the flashy lifestyle Carla had lived, but Ben didn't care. Carla's remains were unceremoniously poured into the urn and handed over to him.
"Uh, do I take these with me?" he asked, "I uh, I guess I've never done this before, so..."
"Perfectly understandable, sir," the mortician said. "Yes, they are yours to do with as you please. If there are no more questions, I'll just box that up for you."
"No more questions?" Ben screamed inside, "I have nothing but questions!" But instead, he just nodded and left the building.
Now he stood there, feeling lost, when suddenly, his doorbell and telephone rang simultaneously. He picked up the phone first and was greeted with, "Is this Ben Culver? Carla Culver's brother? I understand she's the fashion model who tried to murder those innocent firemen- what's your reaction to this? Did you know she was a murderer?"
Ben dropped the receiver to the floor in shock. A reporter? Those men were firemen? He quickly picked up the phone again and placed it back in the cradle without speaking. He heard voices from outside and peeked between the curtains, noticing a van parked outside with KBLA NEWS emblazoned on the side. A man in a suit and tie stood with a microphone on the front step, while another man waited on the sidewalk, a camera on his shoulder, poised and ready for when Ben might open the door. The man knocked repeatedly and rang the bell again.
"Mr. Culver! This is Jerry Treacher of KBLA News," he called out, "I'd like to speak with you about your sister."
There was no way he could give any kind of answer to anyone when he still had so many questions himself. He decided he could wait this out…couldn't he? When another hour passed and the reporters were still there, Ben was on the verge of panic. He desperately wanted to speak with Dr. Morton at Rampart, but the phone rang again and again, not giving him a chance to make the call.
His head turned from door to window to the ringing phone and he didn't know what to do. He finally decided to get down to the floor and keep all the lights off- perhaps they'd be convinced he wasn't there.
"Oh, my god, I can't stay here," he thought, wildly, "Carla tried to kill those firemen...those reporters, they...they know where I live now; they'll never leave me alone! I-I don't know what to say to them...I didn't know Carla would try to kill anyone…I didn't know!"
He could still hear the reporters banging on the front and back doors and now they were even knocking on the living room windows. The doorbell and the phone rang over and over. His head swam as he tried to think of a way to escape the madness his life had suddenly become. He crawled across the floor and into Carla's bedroom and glanced out of the window. As he did so, he saw another van pull up to the curb; this one marked, "Channel 12, Carson News".
"Not another one," Ben groaned. "Even if I could I leave? Where would I go?" From his place on the floor, he looked wide-eyed around the room, trying desperately to calm himself but not having any luck with it. The fading evening light gleamed through the slightly parted drapes and he noticed the photos on the bedside stand, including one of him and Carla, taken last summer when he had visited her in New York. Another one was of the two of them as children, playing in the front yard of what once had been a lovely old home in the country. He stopped for a moment and held the photos tightly; staring at the beautiful face of the sister he had loved.
"Car…what happened to you? What did you do?" he whispered as he started to cry. "How could you have such a dark side? How could you have done something like this? God, I wish you would have come to me for help before it was too late." He put the photographs down on the floor and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm really gonna miss you, you know…I hope you finally have peace."
He lay down on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest and sobbed with all his heart. His life was being ripped to pieces and it was more than he could bear.
E!E!E!E!E!
Cap returned from his phone call and was sitting there with Marco and Mike as Roy, Joanne and Chet meandered into the waiting area.
Heads previously bowed in deep thought popped up at the sight of them, hoping for good news. Roy was too exhausted to do anything more than nod as Joanne told them what had happened. There were others there in the waiting area as well, and several of them smiled- just a bit– when they overheard the news that Johnny had responded to Roy's voice.
"Well, I think I'll go home for a bit then," Mike said, his lips pursed in worry. "I'm gonna feed the cat and grab a nap, but I'll be back in a couple of hours. If you're staying, Jo, would you call me if, uh, anything changes?"
"Of course I will, Mike. Dr. Marquardt said each IV takes about three to four hours to run through, so if we want to leave for a bit, we can. We're going back to Roy's room so he can get something to eat and a little rest..."
Roy looked up at his wife, but before he could interrupt, she continued, "...but I know he won't want to stay away long. We'll go back as soon as we can."
"Well then, let's just give Johnny some time," Cap told them. "I'm going to go home for a shower and to talk with Ellie. I suggest the rest of you go home for bit too."
Marco said he needed groceries and then might go to his folks' house to tell them about Johnny. He knew his mother would want to say some prayers for Marco's friends and at this point, he too desired to pray. He loved the peace he derived from it and looked forward to being alone for a while.
Chet, Mike, Hank and Marco all agreed that leaving for a while would be best and Joanne promised each of them she'd keep them informed if "anything" happened. Marquardt exited John's room and watched as the friends re-grouped and planned for the remainder of the day. He had been genuinely touched at the words he heard Roy express, and clearly this group was deeply concerned for their friend and coworker. That support would certainly help Johnny once he began to recover.
Dr. Marquardt refused to say "if" he recovered.
E!E!E!E!E!
Staring unhappily at his lunch, Roy noted that everything on his plate was beige. He frowned and ate it anyway to avoid the fussing he knew he'd hear if he didn't. No longer suffering from the agonizing stomach cramps and nausea was a huge relief, but eating certainly still lacked the appeal it once held. With a fair amount of wheedling on Joanne's part, he consented to a short nap as well. Despite his vociferous protesting, Roy's body demanded rest and he was soon sleeping soundly.
By the time they were back in John's room nearly three hours later, none of the crew had returned yet. Johnny was almost finished with the most recent dose of milk thistle and Dr. Marquardt would be back soon to draw another blood sample.
Inside Johnny's dark world, it was quiet, but not silent, and something made him try to concentrate. Someone was there. He could sense the emotions emanating from the people speaking to him, sadness, yes, but… there was something else. He couldn't quite focus on the sounds that wouldn't stop.
In the meantime, Roy placed his hand on Johnny's bruised arm. "Hey Junior, it's me, again."
The warmth of Roy's hand and the sound of a friendly voice caused his mind to snap to more coherent thought. "I know this person…I know...this voice…"
"Johnny, I'm not leaving...until you give me a sign you're fighting...to come back. Joanne's here too, and we, uh, we really miss you, you know? Please…Johnny, it's really time...time wake up," Roy stammered.
"John...we're here for you...come back to us." Joanne gently repeated.
"Roy! That's who...that is!" Johnny remembered Roy and concentrated on his voice, desperate to push away the fog that held his brain hostage. "Roy...I don't know...what happened...where..."
When Johnny's fingers began to move, Roy placed his hand under them. Gage's fingers stopped, then Roy smiled when he noticed John's fingers barely grasping his.
"Johnny?" Roy asked, "you can you hear me...can't you?"
"He IS here!" John thought. "I know it..." His long fingers brushed lightly against Roy's hand once more.
"Something's happening!" Roy said as loudly as he could manage, "Get Dr. Brackett!"
Joanne stepped into the hall and called to the nurse at the desk, "Page Dr. Brackett, immediately!"
Dr. Marquardt was returning to Gage's room and overheard Joanne's order to page Brackett. He picked up speed and hustled into the room, striding over to the bed just in time to see Gage's fingers move again, then stop. Johnny's heart rate was up and his eyelids were twitching, as if he were trying to wake from a dream.
"Johnny," Dr. Marquardt requested, "Move your fingers if you can hear me...move your fingers, John."
Everyone held their breath and watched. A few seconds passed, then a few more…and then…there it was! His fingers had moved in response to a command! Roy smiled as he looked up to Joanne.
"He's...gonna to come back...I, I know it," he said with a watery smile. "Johnny, keep at it, man; we're here for you. Don't...give up."
Within seconds, Dr. Brackett burst in and saw Joanne and Roy both fighting back tears. His heart fell, thinking Johnny had succumbed to the poison, then just as quickly he noticed the movements Johnny was making and grinned.
"This looks like it's going to be a good day after all," he smiled.
The door to Johnny's room opened and Cap, bewildered by the commotion, saw Roy and Joanne wiping tears from their eyes and Dr. Brackett and Dr. Marquardt both grinning like fools.
Cap looked from one person to the next, searching for answers, "Roy? Um, I'm back. I can stay with Johnny for a while if you and Joanne want to take a break."
"Cap," Roy said with a smile, "I thank you...but, no thanks! He can hear us, Cap…he can hear us and...he moved his fingers!"
"Well, if that isn't just the best news I've heard in a long time!" Cap grinned and walked over to his paramedic's bedside. "John, pal, you hang in there, alright?" He gently placed his hand on Johnny's shoulder, mindful of the wires, lines and monitors. "We're gonna help you get through this, buddy…I promise."
His voice cracked a little as he said, "You're gonna be okay."