Henry
By Beth Green
Part 2 of 2
Darien woke up to the familiar sound of Claire's voice. It seemed to echo around the Keep as she stated, "Darien, I need you to wake up."
He cautiously opened his eyes to a narrow slit. He had a vague memory of a too bright light having contributed to his current headache. When no knives skewered his brain, he decided that it was safe to open them further. As he focused on his surroundings, he remembered the past twelve hours. Mainly, because Claire had been waking him up every hour, asking the same damn questions. Before she could ask again, he said, "My name is Darien Fawkes. The date is Monday, July 16th. And, I'm in Hell."
With a smile, Claire, declared, "Well, it's good to know that you're still oriented to person, time and place. I just need to do a quick physical examination and then I can safely let you go home and get some sleep."
Darien had not noticed his partner in the background until Bobby stepped forward, tossing his keys in the air. "Hey, Fawkes, looking good there. Do you remember anything about yesterday?"
Darien frowned in thought. "Let's see. We spent the morning with the Official, talking about the Rinzi case. And then . . ." his voice faded off. He tried again. "And then. . ." He began to shake his head in the negative, immediately regretting the action due to the sudden sharp increase in his headache. He satisfied himself with a verbal response. "I don't remember anything else. I don't know how I ended up here, flat on my ass."
Bobby cheerfully filled him in on the details of Rinzi's attempted escape and subsequent capture, while Claire completed her physical assessment. She patted Darien's shoulder, stating, "All finished. You might as well go home."
Darien was concerned over the fact that he could remember nothing beyond yesterday morning. He questioned Claire, "What about my memory?"
"I expect that you've recovered as much of your memory as you're going to." She hastened to reassure her patient. "That's to be expected, under the circumstances. When the brain is concussed from, say, the impact of a bullet, the cells which contain the immediate memory of the event are disrupted. It's not surprising that the last memory you have, before my waking you up every hour, was your meeting yesterday morning. It's probably for the best that you don't remember getting shot, the ambulance ride, the trip to the hospital, or the CT scan, and that's all right."
She continued, "You'll probably have that headache for a few days yet, as well as slightly blurred vision. If the headache gets any worse, if you develop nausea or vomiting, you must promise you'll call me immediately."
Darien waved away her concern. "No problem. Nothing personal, but I am way past ready to get out of here." Darien stood slowly and carefully, trying to avoid jarring his head as much as possible. He tried to make his movement appear nonchalant as he scooped up the stuffed bear that had been sharing the cot with him. Thankfully, neither Claire nor Bobby commented on his furry companion.
Darien was in no condition to drive. Bobby not only agreed to take him home, but declared that he would spend the night. Darien offered no argument. In fact, he was touched by his partner's concern. Not that he intended to share that fact with Hobbes.
When Darien trudged wearily into his apartment, he gently placed the bear on the sofa as if it were an honored guest.
Bobby, who'd followed him in, could stay silent no longer. He settled in next to the bear. Giving it a friendly pat, he spoke as if he expected it to answer him. "So, Henry, how long have you known Darien?"
Darien just looked at the two of them for a moment, as a smile slowly slipped into place. "Let me guess: I mentioned something about Henry while I was out of my head?"
Seeing his opening, Bobby jumped in with both feet. "Mentioned something? I'll say! Any time anybody tried to take that bear away from you, you threatened them with great bodily injury. You want to tell me what that was about?"
Settling back with a sigh, Darien decided to confess. "Well, this guy looks a lot like the bear my mom gave me a long time ago. She helped me name it, too. When I told her I thought that Teddy was a dumb name for a bear, she agreed with me. She looked him over and said, 'He looks more like a Henry, doesn't he?' I agreed, and he became my best friend. We went everywhere together."
He paused a minute in reflection. His eyes were sad as they no longer looked upon what was in front of him, but gazed off somewhere into the past. "At least, until my mom died. Then, Kevin and I got shipped off to my Uncle Peter. Man, my whole life changed. I just wanted one thing to be the same: me and Henry. But, my Uncle said I was too old for baby toys and took Henry away from me, just tossed him in the trash. Well, I watched and I waited, and when everyone was asleep, I rescued Henry from the garbage."
"After that, I wanted to keep him with me. The best way I could figure to do that was to carry him around in my book bag. Unfortunately, that didn't leave a whole lot of room for books. One day, my Uncle gets a complaint from my teacher that I always seemed to be forgetting my books. My Uncle, he can't believe it. He's seen me lugging around my book bag day after day. So, naturally, he goes to see what's in it, and finds Henry."
"After heaping on a ton of verbal and physical abuse, he calls up the church secretary, Mrs. Smith, and asks her to take Henry away."
"I stayed up all night, trying to figure out what the hell I was gonna do. Next day I skipped school. I had a plan. I went through the phone book, found out where she lived. Then, I 'borrowed' a bike from a neighbor and headed out to her house. I checked around the outside of the house, didn't see her car, figured out she wasn't home. I went around to the back of the house, broke in a window, and committed my first B&E. It didn't matter. I searched that house from top to bottom, and I never did find Henry. I even went over to the church, looked into her car. I never saw him again."
The pain from that loss was etched into every line of Darien's face. He leaned over, rubbing the bear's soft fur. "I guess Henry set me out on a life of crime."
Bobby would have cheerfully made Uncle Peter disappear if he were in the room with them right now. Instead, he put his arm around the bear. "Now, don't you go blaming my buddy Henry here. If anyone's to blame, it's your Uncle. I bet he spent his spare time taking candy from babies, the bastard."
Darien chuckled, a little choked, as he said, "You and Henry, man. You're the best friends I ever had." His eyes were suspiciously bright, his grin, a little watery.
Bobby impulsively pulled Darien across to him, giving him a brief, quick hug. "Hey, friend, do me a favor? Don't go getting shot again."
Wanting a longer hug in return, but settling for a more manly fake punch to Bobby's shoulder, Darien replied, "Sounds good to me." Darien could not help the yawn which suddenly escaped. "Oh, man. My body's reminding me that somebody's been waking me up every hour for the past twenty-four hours. If you don't mind, me and Henry need to get some shut eye, here."
Apologetically, Bobby replied, "Yeah, sure, okay. You take it easy. I'll just make myself comfortable on the couch. I'll talk to you tomorrow." He waved his partner off to bed. And, if Darien Fawkes wanted to sleep with a teddy bear, Bobby Hobbes would fight anyone who tried to stop him, damn it; and, they both took comfort in that fact.
*****
~end