Chapter 6

Mark's visit to Jonathan Harper, soon after Jesse, was very enlightening and he came away from the meeting understanding a little more why Steve had taken off as he had.

"I was right," he confided to Jesse and Amanda over a pasta meal at the beach house later that evening, "Jonathan did tell Steve that he is probably going to have to give up his licence soon."

"Why didn't he ask one of us to go with him?" Amanda wanted to know.

"You know Steve," Mark answered, "he is incredibly independent. Even though he is still going to have some peripheral sight and will be able to do more than he imagines, there will still be certain limitations.  So, he had to do this on his own."

"Aren't you worried about him driving?" Jesse wanted to know.

"Well, I'm not wild about it," Mark admitted, "but, as with everything Steve has done since he turned 18, I have very little choice in the matter. However stubborn he may be but I know that Steve won't push himself too far."

In between mouthfuls of pasta, covered in Mark's delicious special sauce that Jesse was desperate to get the recipe for, he asked, "How long do you expect Steve to be away?"

"He will be away as long as needs to be, Jess," Mark replied. "I am sure that he will call soon though."

"Does he know that you have ordered those enhancements for his computer yet?" Jesse was in serious 'question' mode now.

Mark grinned a little sheepishly, "Not yet, no."

"And what do you think he'll say?" Amanda was smiling as well.

"I rather think that it will depend upon the success of his trip," Mark replied.

"What is it that you have got?"  Jesse asked.

"It's software which will help Steve to word process more easily and also surf the net by enlarging everything on the screen."

"Exactly how will that help?" Amanda asked.

"We use the macula to look at things," he began simply and Amanda nodded her understanding, "With macular degeneration, it is as though there is a hole in the centre of your vision so when you look at something, it sort of falls in through that hole. By making images or print larger, it gets too big to fall through that hole which, therefore, keeps the image visible."

"That's clever," as ever, Jesse was amazed at how Mark was able to take a complex idea and make it accessible to everyone.

"I hope that Steve agrees with you," Mark chuckled.

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Waking up the next morning, Steve lay in his bed with his hands linked behind his head looking up at the cracked ceiling of his room and he let his mind wander. Everyone kept telling him how well he was handling the situation and to a certain extent he agreed with them. However, there was a small corner of his mind which had remained stubbornly against any thoughts of the future. Well, he thought wryly to himself, the future was here and there was no getting away from it. He would, in a couple of months, no longer be able to drive and it was that, with all its implications for loss of independence, that Steve knew he would find the hardest.

A loud rumble from the region of his stomach reminded Steve that he hadn't eaten since the previous lunchtime. Getting up, he carefully made his way round the bed and into the small bathroom. It was there that Steve came across his first hurdle. At home, he had a shower that he was simply able to walk into but here the shower was set over the bath. Steve didn't relish the thought of stepping over the high rim of the bath when he was wet and possibly slipping because he couldn't see clearly. Instead, he contented himself with stripping off and standing in front of the hand basin to wash. It wasn't the same as a shower, but at least he knew he was clean.

Leaving his room a little later, the first person to cross his path was the receptionist from the previous evening, Cindy.

"Good morning, Mr. Sloan," she said, the smile of pleasure on her face mirrored in the tone of her voice.

"Hello," Steve replied.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"I did," Steve answered, before asking, "Can you tell me where the closest place is for breakfast?"

"We have our own restaurant here. May I show you the way?" Cindy asked, holding up her right elbow in a mute offer of help.

For a second Steve hesitated. Accepting assistance was not his strong suit but, like the previous evening, he detected nothing in Cindy's voice but a genuine desire to help a patron in the best way she knew how.  He gently took hold of her elbow and said, "Lead the way."

Walking at a comfortable pace, Cindy kept up a constant flow of chatter occasionally interspersing that with a direction change. They eventually reached the restaurant and, leaving Steve at the door, Cindy moved off to continue with her morning routine.

Forty five minutes later, his stomach nearly uncomfortably full, Steve made his way back to his room. Deciding that his dad would really begin to worry if he didn't ring him that morning, Steve sat down on his bed next to the phone.

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Mark had woken up feeling sluggish and unrefreshed after an extremely restless night, which had been filled with dreams of Steve totally without sight and lost in a strange place. Hoping that an infusion of caffeine would help him, Mark pulled on the silk dressing gown which his son had bought for his last birthday and went into the kitchen. He poured himself a mug of coffee and then moved through the house, opened the large glass door and stepped out onto the deck.  He stood looking out over the ocean, occasionally taking a sip of a rapidly cooling beverage. He was halfway down the mug when the phone in the lounge began to ring.

Despite his advancing years, Mark was extremely agile and he had picked up the receiver before it had managed to sound out its third ring.

"Steve?" he asked, the tension which he had not allowed either Jesse or Amanda to see, evident in his voice.

"Yeah, Dad, it's me," Steve's voice came clearly down the line into Mark's grateful ear.

"Are you okay?" Mark couldn't restrain the fatherly expression of concern.

"I'm fine, Dad," Steve hastened to assure him.

"Where are you?" Mark asked.

"I stayed the night at a motel along PCH," Steve replied, "and I'm just about to get going again."

"Where?" Mark hated that he seemed to be cross questioning his son, but he couldn't help it.

"I'm headed for a bay along the coast to do some whale watching." Steve answered. "I don't know how much longer I'll be able to do something like this on my own, so I'm taking the opportunity whilst I can."

"I understand, Son," Mark answered, "I saw your note and spoke to Jonathan."

"I have something else to tell you," Steve spoke quickly, as if wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, "I saw Captain Newman yesterday and started the process for a medical discharge."

"Oh, Steve," Mark replied, "Was there no alternative?"

"I could have stayed, Dad," Steve answered, "but it would have been a desk job in an office somewhere and I'm not sure that that is what I want."

"How do you feel?" Mark couldn't help asking, although this was a conversation that he would far rather be having face to face with his son.

"I'm not sure at the moment," Steve was honest, "that's why I need to get away for a while. To sort things out in my head."

Mark sighed silently. Whilst he understood that it was Steve's way to think personal things through on his own, there was a part of Mark that wished he'd talk to him a bit more.

"Okay, Son." he spoke out loud, "Any idea how long you are going to be away?"

"Not really," Steve replied, "it'll be as long as I need. Don't worry, Dad, I am fine, honestly. I'll ring every couple of days, I promise?"

"Thanks," Mark replied, "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will," Steve promised.

Replacing the receiver on its cradle, Mark made his way into his bedroom to get ready for work. He knew that he wouldn't be happy until his son came home, but he had to trust that Steve knew what he was doing.

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Gathering his bags together, Steve shut the door behind him and walked round to the reception where he paid his bill. He was a little disappointed that he didn't see Cindy again but he thought he might stop off on the way home and say hi. Exiting through the large, sliding doors Steve walked to his car. Getting in, he started the engine and drove out of the car park and back onto PCH.

It took him longer than he thought to arrive at his final destination. It had been a while since he had driven such a long distance and his deteriorating eyesight meant that his concentration levels were much deeper. He'd had to take more rest stops than usual so, by the time he reached his destination, Steve was tired and with a throbbing headache. Once more, he booked in and went straight to bed to sleep the dreamless sleep of the exhausted.