Tricked
part 2

by TeeJay

--...----...----...--

Gary and Marissa walked along State Street towards Chuck's apartment. They had decided to go there and check whether everything was in order. Gary remembered the fuss Chuck had made when Gary had accidentally flushed Sparky, Chuck's goldfish, down the toilet. He wondered if Chuck might have gotten another one that needed to be taken care of. That was the least Gary could do for him now.

Gary had to try three of the keys that they had been handed at the hospital before he found the one that opened Chuck's door. Marissa and Gary stepped in. Gary had expected complete chaos to greet him. He remembered the times he had been roommates with Chuck in college. And the devastating day last winter when Chuck had moved into his hotel room. But surprisingly, the flat looked quite neat and tidy. Gary could remember being here once or twice, some time ago. Chuck wasn't the person to invite people over to his place very much.

Gary looked for something vaguely resembling a goldfish. Any kind of fish, really. But he couldn't find anything remotely like it. Apparently, Chuck had given up on keeping fish. He had a brief look into every room. Everything seemed to be in order. Marissa was standing in the kitchen, checking the fridge. Holding out a bottle of milk, she said, "Gary, we should take care of this." She opened it and sniffed at the milk. "Seems to be still okay."

Gary peered over her shoulder. "What else have we got?" The fridge was filled with all sorts of edibles. He suddenly had an idea. He took Marissa softly by the shoulders and pulled her around to face him. "Happy Birthday, Marissa. You've just won a 'Clean Out The Fridge Birthday Meal'! Here in Chuck's apartment. What do you say?"

She smiled. "Sounds good."

"Okay, then where do we start?"

Marissa produced half a chicken out of the fridge. Then three peppers and some smoked sausages. Gary searched some of the cupboards. Marissa asked, "You found any rice?"

"Hang on." Gary roamed through another cupboard. "Yeah, a whole package."

"Okay, then I think we just got about everything we need for a Jambalaya."

"A Jamba-what?"

"A Jambalaya. It's something my mother taught me to do. It's a Creole rice dish. My Grandfather comes from the New Orleans region." She took the peppers over to the sink to wash and chop them. Half to herself she said, "I can't wait, this is gonna be delicious."

Gary answered, "I sure hope so." with a bemused touch to his voice. "Do you mind if I took care of dessert?"

"No, not at all."

And so the both of them started preparing the feast. Gary added, "Now, all we need is an apron and some of these... these ridiculous cooking hats..."

An hour later, Chuck's apartment smelled deliciously of garlic and other spices, emanating from the simmering Jambalaya. They had also put together a tomato soup and Gary had made some chocolate brownies that still baked in the oven. Chuck's kitchen looked like a tornado had blown right through it.

Gary was licking some paste off his fingers. He chuckled.

Marissa looked at him. "What's so funny, all of a sudden?"

"It's just, if Chuck came in right now, he'd surely drop dead on the spot. Probably scolding us with something like 'us entering his sacred realm'..."

Marissa smiled, too. "Yeah, and saying he'd never forgive us for the rest of our poor little lives. That'd be all we'd hear for the next few weeks."

Gary became serious again. "Marissa, we're joking around like this and Chuck is on the brink of death."

"Gary, the last thing Chuck would want us to do is wallow in grief. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, you're right." He bent down to peer into the oven. "Mmh, looks about ready."

Gary and Marissa sat at the big dinner table in Chuck's living room, the table filled with the left-overs from the meal they had just finished. It had indeed been delicious and both of them had enjoyed it. In between courses they had talked about all sorts of things, but mostly it had been about Chuck. They had talked about what his mother had said. Neither of them had known what the family dispute was all about. What reason had made Chuck grow apart from his family?

Gary wondered why Chuck hadn't told him about it. They had been friends since college and he already hadn't been talking very much about his parents when they were still working at the brokerage. Maybe they hadn't been as close as Gary thought. He thought about whether Chuck would tell him about problems like that now. Their friendship had become much closer since the paper started coming. Still, it left Gary slightly worried that he didn't know about the whole incident.

Gary had also recited some old stories from their childhood and Marissa and Gary had laughed a lot. There had also been some sentimental moments but all in all it had been a cheery conversation. Gary looked at Marissa and she, in a way, looked back at him. They still had smiles on their faces but deep inside both of them carried the uncertainty, the fear of losing a good and valued friend. Gary stood up and started to carry the dirty dishes back to the kitchen. Marissa soon followed and they started washing up.

Three quarters of an hour later, Chuck's kitchen looked pretty much like it had before Marissa and Gary had started messing it up. Except the fridge was almost empty now. The both of them exited Chuck's apartment again, but not before Gary had made a last inspection of all the rooms.

Gary went back to his hotel room, after he had walked Marissa home. She had offered to stay at his place for one more night but he had declined. He felt he could cope on his own now. It was only 3.30 p.m. and he wanted a little time alone. He didn't know if he was ready to face the paper again. If he went back to the hotel, he would have to. And he couldn't stay away from it forever. The paper needed him, right? Did it? He wasn't sure of that either. Yeah, maybe it needed him but he didn't need it! Not after what happened. But he couldn't run away from it forever.

Reluctantly, he inserted the key into the key-hole, expecting the orange cat to await him eagerly, meowing loudly. In the summer, he always left the window open a slit, so that the cat was free to move in and out. Much to his surprise, the cat wasn't there. The paper was, though. It was lying almost innocently on the floor, in front of Gary's bed. He began to wonder. Why was it in the room, all of a sudden? The paper had always been delivered in front of his door. And he hadn't picked it up from the doorstep today. Did someone from the hotel put it into his room? Yeah, that was probably the most logical conclusion. But why place it on the floor, then? Gary looked at it, stared at it as if wanting it to vanish from the spot, from his life. He slowly picked it up. Sitting down on the window sill, he flicked the pages. There was nothing. Nothing. Oh sure, there were lots of articles and reports in there but nothing that would have needed Gary's intervention. He felt relief wash over him. He had been convinced he'd never have one look at the damn thing but he also knew if there had been incidents he hadn't taken care of, he would be sorry now. Did the paper feel something like guilt? Guilt for what "it" had done to Chuck? Or was all this just a lucky coincidence? When it came to the paper, Gary had stopped believing in coincidences. He put the paper away, wanting to leave it all behind.

He opened the window, closed his eyes, and listened. Tried to detect anything that sounded different from this morning. After a while, he thought he had fine-tuned his ears to all the sounds that were brought up through the window. Were the sounds louder and angrier than in the small hours, or did he just imagine that? He leaned his head back and concentrated more on listening...

Gary had been sitting on the window sill for quite some time. Thoughts had been floating through his head, thoughts about Chuck, about the paper, about how his life was just one big blur to him, with the paper spinning it constantly. He had gone back to the times he was still young and naive, the times he and Chuck had been innocent kids. Chuck had been so cheery and happy all the time, like he didn't have a care in the world. What was

this thing about his family? How long ago had it happened? He would have recognized it, wouldn't he? Chuck had always seemed happy, joking around. Now he kept wondering if Chuck used his humor only to protect himself. To mask the vulnerability he had buried deep within him with his sometimes quite contorted sense of humor. Dammit, he should have taken notice of it much earlier. But after the paper had been coming to him, he had had enough to cope with getting his own life straight.

And now Chuck's mother had shown up. She was surely feeling remorse. And guilt. Not knowing if her son was ever going to be able to forgive her, for whatever had kept her from contacting him. Living with that burden mustn't be easy. But then, when Marissa and he had met her in the hospital, she had been unusually distanced, cold. He was wondering if she was ever coming back to see Chuck in hospital. Or maybe she couldn't bear the agony of seeing a family member die in front of her eyes. Damn. Damn, damn, damn! If only he had been there a few minutes earlier. He could have prevented it. He could have. He could have. He inwardly cursed the paper again. For months and months it had sent him chasing after minor, rather unimportant incidents. But when it came to the vital decisions, it had tricked him.

Gary's stomach gave a loud rumble. He realized dawn was breaking. Had it really gotten that late? He quickly scanned the fridge for anything edible, when he found some ready-made sandwiches. Chewing on them, he reached for a sweater and exited his hotel room. He had decided to drop by Chuck's hospital room again. He knew it probably looked paranoid if he went there again but something he wasn't able to determine drove him there.

Gary had taken the El to the Cook County. Walking down the stairs from the El station, he noticed an ugly diner next to the hospital, "Doc Magoo's" written above the door in big letters. He turned to face the hospital entrance and went straight up to the ICU. He registered his visit with the nurse on charge. She didn't look too happy about his intentions, didn't object, though. "But only a few minutes," was her remark.

Gary quickly nodded and approached Chuck's room. He looked through the glass window in Chuck's door and the picture he still had in his mind from this morning hadn't changed. Gary carefully opened the door, as if afraid he was intruding on someone's privacy. He tried not to be intimidated by all the electrical instruments that still clustered around Chuck's bed. Just try to act normal, he told himself. He approached Chuck's bedside with an almost cheerful "Hi buddy."

In his mind, he imagined Chuck suddenly opening his eyes and replying "Hi Gar." as if nothing had happened. But Chuck just lay there, his chest still rising and falling due to the ventilator that pumped air into his lungs. Gary once again tried to ignore it. He sat down on the chair next to Chuck's bed and began talking to Chuck. He started telling him about his day and about his time with Marissa. After a while he started telling Chuck about the previous day. About how he had made the decision to prevent the bus accident. How he had been too late at the store. How he had bitterly realized his failure. It all came bubbling out of him like a hot well.

He finished with a "Chuck, don't make me regret my decision for the rest of my life, will ya? I'll drop by again tomorrow." With these words he left the room and the hospital.

Back in his hotel room, Gary was lying awake in his bed. He felt a certain amount of relief. As if a bit of pressure had been eased through a valve. Now he knew what had driven him to see Chuck again. He had lifted a bit of his burden from his shoulders by telling Chuck about why he hadn't been there to save him. Even if Chuck probably hadn't comprehended it. Then, ever so slowly, his thoughts drifted away as he succumbed to the heavy mantle of sleep covering him.


--...----...----...--

"Here's your coffee," were the words of the waitress, handing out two mugs of coffee to Gary and Marissa. The both of them were sitting in their favorite establishment, McGinty's. Gary was scanning the paper again. He had already had a quick look this morning, when he had reluctantly picked it up from outside his door. So far, he hadn't spotted any big disasters. The paper obviously had the decency to leave Gary alone for now.

He had met with Marissa, so that they could have breakfast together. Both of them wanted to be there when Chuck was taken off the ventilator. Gary studied Marissa. She looked tired with dark rings forming below her eyes. The last two days had taken their toll on both of them.

Their breakfast was very quiet. A quietness that seemed to be filled with anticipation, anxiousness and expectancy. They both didn't want to admit it but their thoughts drifted around the one fact. What would happen, once they took Chuck off the ventilator? Gary was trying hard not to think about the worst that could happen, Marissa braced herself mentally for that very possibility. She was an optimist at heart but she had learned to expect the worst in a situation like this. Gary swallowed the last bit of his coffee and looked at his watch. "It's time to go, Marissa."

She nodded. "Yeah."

Gary and Marissa stood in Chuck's room. To Gary it looked as if nothing had changed since he had been there last time. Except dark rings were forming under Chuck's eyes. Dark rings that made Gary feel a shudder running down his spine. It once again reminded him on the fragility of one man's life. Gary kept wondering why Chuck's parents weren't there. What had been going on with Chuck's family that it had brought such a deep cleavage between them and their son that they didn't stay with him at a moment like this? The door opened and an unfamiliar doctor with a nurse by his side entered the room. He introduced himself to the two of them, "Hello, I'm Doctor McNeill."

Gary and Marissa quickly introduced themselves. Dr. McNeill explained the procedures to them, telling them all they needed to know. They had started to wean Chuck off, the procedure of lowering the number of breaths per minute administered by the ventilator gradually, along with the percentage of oxygen, monitoring if the patient is starting to breathe on his own. "We had Mr. Fishman on twelve breaths a minute and lowered it to eight. The blood gases looked pretty good, so we're now down to four per minute. Mr. Fishman is tolerating the changes very well and I'm happy to say, he's starting to breathe on his own now."

Gary let out the breath he had unconsciously been holding, the tension releasing in one big blow. Marissa had a big grin on her face, she faintly squeezed Gary's shoulder in reassurance. Gary and Marissa both moved to Chuck's bedside. Gary softly patted him on the arm. "Hey buddy, nice to see you've taken things into your own hands. Keep it up and you'll be outta here in no time."

Marissa still had a smile on her face as she said, "Chuck, you've taken a big step, I know you can make it all the way through. Don't give up, okay?"

Dr. McNeill took Gary softly by the arm, indicating it was time to leave. "We still have to monitor him for the next few hours. This was one step forward on a long and sometimes slippery road. I don't want to lower your hopes, but don't expect too much, yet. Things can just as well take a rapid downturn, be prepared for that." And with a reassuring pat on Gary's shoulder, he continued, "But Mr. Fishman has made progress today, there's no need for concern at the moment. It all looks pretty good."

Gary and Marissa had parted at the El platform, each had gone their separate ways. Inside the El, Gary suddenly realized he was clutching the paper in his hand. He had made an unconscious grab for it from inside his jacket. Disgusted, he was about to tuck it inside the jacket again. He was sick of it. Weary. Bone tired. Now more than ever. But his conscience kept nagging at him. With a sigh, he took it out again and quickly scanned the front page. Nothing important on the front page. On page three, his eyes fixed on a particular article.

ANGRY HUSBAND SETS HOUSE ON FIRE>

Quickly, Gary scanned the article. Apparently, a distressed husband and father of two had been left by his wife and children in the morning and the man had been found drunk in front of the burning house where he had been living in a rented flat. The house had burned down almost to the foundation walls, leaving the owners and landlords without a home. Three people had been injured in the incident.

At first, Gary thought, How deep can a man sink? but then he painfully remembered the time where he had been standing in front of his home with Marcia shouting out the window "Heads up!", shortly followed by a flying suitcase. He remembered how numb he had felt, how bereft of a purpose. He realized there was only a very small ridge that decided between the rational or the irrational decision, between giving in to your impulses or letting your better judgement win over. He was wondering if he could persuade the poor soul of a man not to do something disastrous like that. He had to try. He got off at the next El station and headed out to Burbank where the incident was going to occur.

Inside Gary's empty hotel room, his phone rang. After four unanswered rings the answering machine went on. After the beep there was an unfamiliar female voice. "This is Nurse Owens from the Cook County Hospital. We must inform you of a change in Mr. Fishman's condition. Would you please contact the hospital as soon as possible." With that she hang up and the click of the answering machine echoed hollowly in the deserted hotel room.

She replaced the receiver on the hook. Nurse Kathryn Owens hated answering machines. They always made her feel uneasy, she preferred to speak to someone in person. Especially in a case like this. One of their ICU patients, a Mr. Charles Fishman had taken a turn for the worse. There were only two phone numbers given on his file. The first was of a Gary Hobson whom she had just left a message. Sighing, she dialed the second number.

Marissa was just ironing her laundry. She had put on her favorite music and swayed lightly to the beat. There, in the background, she heard a noise that didn't belong to the music. She turned the music down and now identified the sound as her phone that was ringing. She quickly put the hot iron down on the rest and went to answer the phone. "Marissa Clark."

"Ms. Clark, this is Nurse Owens from the Cook County Hospital."

Marissa immediately knew something was wrong. She cut in, "Has something happened to Chuck, to Mr. Fishman?"

"I'm afraid so, Ms. Clark." Her heart skipped a beat. He couldn't be... No, not Chuck. The female voice yanked her back to reality. "Ms. Clark, Mr. Fishman has developed a condition we call DIC. He is in critical condition and we would need you to come down, please. I have already tried to reach a Mr. Hobson, do you know him?"

Marissa's thoughts began to swirl. She could only stammer, "Gary, yes. He is... he must be... I'll try to contact him. I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Thank you, Ms. Clark."

Marissa wanted to put the phone down but the receiver limply fell out of her hand. She realized she was shaking. Trying to get a grip on herself, she picked up the phone again and called Gary's number. Her fingers were still shaking as she hit the dial buttons. All she got was the answering machine. She left a rather confused message, inwardly swearing why Gary wasn't in. Come on, Gary, pick up the phone! she begged. But no avail, Gary wasn't there. Now, she wished Gary hadn't thrown away the cell phone Chuck once had given to him. A thought like, Why is he never there for us when we need him? ran through her head but she tried to banish it. That wasn't fair to Gary. Often enough, he sacrificed himself for other people. Gary probably was the most self-sacrificing man she'd ever known. She once again wished he was there. It was hard facing the hospital alone. She called Spike and harnessed him, leaving the house to head for the hospital.

Once she had gotten there, she immediately went up to the ICU. She addressed the nurse at the desk. "I'm Marissa Clark, I was notified to come and see Mr. Fishman."

The nurse got up and guided Marissa to Chuck's room. "Ms. Clark, I'm nurse Owens." They stopped in front of Chuck's room. "Would you please wait outside for a second?" she said and then went inside, checked Chuck's chart and the equipment. Marissa's apprehension grew with every second. What was she doing in there so long? Was something wrong? Nurse Owens came out again. Marissa addressed her again, "Is he all right?"

"Mr. Fishman is stable at the moment. Let me explain his condition to you first. He has developed a rare disorder we call DIC - Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation. It sometimes occurs after trauma or surgery and it is a condition that prevents the blood from clotting at the injured body sites and causes generalized bleeding. We've been able to stop the bleeding for now and Mr. Fishman has been given transfusions. We've managed to stabilize him for now."

"May I go in?"

"I'm afraid we can't let anyone into his room at the moment. But you can stay here for a while if you want." Nurse Owens gently patted Marissa on the shoulder.

Marissa nodded. "Thank you." Her thoughts were spinning. Chuck was in there, fighting for his life, and all she could do was stand around and do nothing. She felt so futile, so helpless. Then she remembered Gary. She had to try and reach him again. She went downstairs to find a pay-phone.


--...----...----...--

Gary watched the world go by down below him. He looked through the window of the El-train and watched the beads of rain slide down the window. It had started raining a quarter of an hour ago and the sky had turned an unattractive gray. However, his "task" had been accomplished to his satisfaction. He had found the man in distress and had been able to persuade him not to do anything foolish. Gary wasn't too good concerning psychological matters, but apparently he had gotten through to the man as the article in the paper had changed to a report about the latest trends in fashion. He was already looking forward to a nice and hot cup of coffee, back in his hotel room.

Once he had gotten there, he set up his coffeemaker and almost automatically checked his voice mail messages. The first one was from Marcia. Something about the divorce and the lawyer and would he please call her back. Yeah, Gary thought. There had been a time when only hearing her voice had given him goose-bumps. But not anymore. He had been lost in thought and suddenly became aware of an unfamiliar voice. "...of a change in Mr. Fishman's condition." Gary almost dropped the kettle. Oh my God, something had happened to Chuck! Then there was Marissa's voice. In a jumble of stammered words he could make out that she had gone to the hospital already. Then the answering machine gave a click to indicate there were no more messages to be played. Gary hastily grabbed his jacket and was just about to leave when the phone rang.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Gary? Thank God you're there." Marissa gave a sigh of relief.

"Marissa? Are you still at the hospital? What happened?"

"He, Chuck, he's having complications, something about bleeding and transfusions. Gary, I don't think it's looking good. They won't even let me in there." Marissa sounded troubled enough to make Gary shudder.

"I'll be right there," Gary just said and put down the phone.

Gary came running up the stairs to the ICU in the Cook County Hospital. He spotted Marissa nervously pacing the hallway in front of Chuck's room.

"Marissa," he called out.

"Oh Gary." She came towards him and he could see she was close to tears. He took her gently in his arms and gave her as confident a squeeze as he was able to. Nervously, she said, "Gary, I don't know what's going on. There's doctors and nurses running in and out of there. Can you see what's happening?"

Gary stared through the window to see if he could make out anything. Two nurses were arranging all sorts of medical equipment around Chuck. He could see blood transfusions hanging from an IV-rack. He spotted Dr. McNeill who was doing what looked like intubating Chuck again. Oh no, Gary thought. He turned to Marissa. "Looks like Chuck's giving them a hard time. Come on, we'd better wait." With those words he guided her to those plastic chairs that they had already manned not too long ago. Endless minutes passed. Then, the door to Chuck's room opened and Dr. McNeill came out. He went in Gary's and Marissa's direction. They both stood up.

"Mr. Hobson, Ms. Clark." Dr. McNeill seemed to read the question in both their eyes, wanting to ask how his patient was doing. "Mr. Fishman is stable at the moment."

There was immediate relief on both their faces. He explained Chuck's condition, DIC, to them once again, telling them there was still immediate risk of Chuck losing his struggle for life. But apparently he was out of danger for now. However, they weren't allowed to see him at the moment. They had also put him on the ventilator again, just as Gary had witnessed. Now all they could do was wait and pray.

After they had left the hospital, Gary and Marissa had gone back to her apartment. The first shock had settled and they both became aware of what they had just been told with a fearful realization. None of them had been very talkative and they soon parted. Gary went back to his own apartment, so to speak.

He now sat on his couch, staring at the television, he caught himself drifting off, not paying attention to what was shown on the screen. Those thoughts came inevitably back to him. Why had he let this happen? Why hadn't he prevented it? Could he have prevented it at all? Maybe there was something like fate. Perhaps this had been destined to happen and not even he, Gary Hobson, was to undo it. He tried to concentrate on the TV again. What was he watching? Some late night comedy show, he figured, as he heard some artificial laughter in the background. No, he wasn't able to concentrate, let alone laugh about it. He took the remote control and switched off the TV. A stinging headache had found its way into Gary's skull. He leaned back and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. He needed to rest. To rest. Yeah. Slowly, he stood up and got to bed, still haunted by the images of a miserable looking Chuck, lying motionless in an ICU hospital bed.


--...----...----...--

It had now been four days since Chuck's downturn. Since Gary and Marissa had so suddenly been summoned to the hospital. Chuck still hadn't regained consciousness, nor shown much improvement at all. But he also hadn't gotten worse, which, at this point, was at least a good sign. The day after the DIC episode, Gary and Marissa had been allowed into Chuck's room again. Chuck still looked exhausted and worn out. The rings below his eyes had deepened and the vent that was breathing for Chuck gave the scene an even more frightening touch. Gary had spent the better part of his afternoons at Chuck's bedside, even if he wasn't actually able to do anything much. But he believed that maybe it did have a positive influence on him. Marissa had stayed at the hospital a lot, too. Every now and then, Gary had to go and take care of the paper. The damned paper, he still cursed it. But he couldn't neglect his responsibility. If he couldn't help Chuck now, he could at least save other people from their fate. At times he felt like he couldn't take it anymore. Not only the paper but the tremendous pressure the situation caused. On one hand, it was good that Chuck didn't get worse. On the other hand, there was an unnerving uncertainty that hung in the air. Chuck couldn't stay like this forever.


--...----...----...--

Gary carefully opened the door to Chuck's room. He had spent the whole day chasing children that were going to be run over by a car, preventing a drive-by shooting, putting out a fire in a restaurant, and more incidents along those lines. And now he was tired and in a gloomy mood. It had been one of the worst days in months. Chuck lay there as he had the previous days. Still no sign of improvement. Gary pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed for a while. He had come to a point where he couldn't hold up his optimistic view. Not today. Not anymore. His life lay in shambles and his best friend was close to death. And yet he had to go out on the streets each and every day, taking care of what the paper laid out for him. He leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Tears of frustration and desperation slowly welled up in his eyes. He was too weary to control them and he let them roll down his cheeks. All the anger, the fear, the pressure that had accumulated over the last days were joined in these tears.

Suddenly, the door opened. Gary didn't even look up. Nothing mattered to him anymore, not at this moment. It was Marissa. She sensed Gary and somehow the somber mood he was in. Carefully, she probed, "Gary? Are you all right?"

He didn't reply. He just stared at the wall opposite him with an empty expression. Marissa could feel, he had been crying. She approached him from behind and softly laid her hands onto his shoulders, half whispering, "Gary, it's all right. It's gonna be all right."

He quietly answered, "No, it's not," so low that she almost didn't hear it.

Marissa gently said, "Come on, you need to get outta here."

Reluctantly, he had come with her. Together they went to Marissa's apartment where she had made a fresh cup of coffee. They sat next to each other on her couch, drinking from their mugs. "Feeling better?" Marissa asked.

"Yeah," Gary answered quietly. And after a short pause, he added, "Thanks."

"Isn't that what friends are for?" She put one hand on his knee. He took it and squeezed it in a gesture of pure gratitude.

"I wouldn't know if you hadn't been there to back me up. I... I..." Gary stuttered. He didn't want to sound awkward, but he honestly wanted to tell Marissa how much he depended on her support.

She seemed to understand him without words. "I know, Gary." She reached over to the coffee pot to pour some more coffee when she accidentally touched the paper that Gary had put onto the table. It sent the paper sliding to the floor, the pages shuffling and disarranging. She felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

Gary quickly picked it up and wanted to say, "Never mind." when his eyes caught an article on the front page. In big letters the headline said: POWER FAILURE IN HOSPITAL - NINE PATIENTS DIE>. Below it was a picture of the Cook County Hospital. He cut his phrase of in mid-sentence. "Never-"

Marissa looked at him. "Gary? What is it?"

"This." He pointed at the front page. "The headline." He read it out to her. "Late on Thursday afternoon, a power failure occurred at the Cook County Hospital when construction workers accidentally cut off the power supply to the whole hospital. The emergency power generator that would have compensated for the loss of power had proven to be damaged which left the hospital without electricity for nearly five hours. Nine people lost their lives in the incident, most of them Intensive Care patients." Gary stopped right there. His face bore a terrified expression. The same thought shot through both their heads. Chuck!

"Marissa, I can't let this happen." And under his breath he muttered, "Not again."

Marissa just nodded.

Gary and Marissa were running from the El platform to the hospital. Late afternoon. It was ten to five. He prayed they were not too late. In front of the Cook County, Gary stopped. Out of breath, Marissa let out a questioning, "Gary?"

Gary looked around. "I don't see any-" He was panting and had to take breaths between the words. "-any construction works." He took Marissa by the arm. "Come on."

Together they hurried around the building, to the back of the hospital. Through some of the hospital windows, Gary could still see artificial light shining, so he figured he wasn't too late to hold off disaster. Finally, Gary spotted two men in dirty gray jump-suits who were working in a hole in the ground. One was armed with a big pick-axe, hammering loose one part of the hole's wall. Gary and Marissa approached the hole. The two workers looked up tat Gary as he bent over the opening. Marissa had remained at a distance, leaving the talking to Gary.

Gary didn't know how exactly he was gonna stop them from digging, he just knew he had to somehow. "Hey, look. You... you gotta stop diggin' up that wall. There's a cable running just behind that for the power supply to the hospital," Gary delivered while pointing to the wall of the hole with the paper insistently. The two workers look at each other questioningly. The tall and sturdy one just said, "Oh yeah? And who are you, mister?"

Gary could see he was once again not taken seriously. "Gary. Gary Hobson," he quickly said.

The smaller worker then asked, "And are you with the construction company?"

"No. No, I... You gotta-"

The workers just shrugged and went on working.

Gary was getting desperate. Lives were at stake here, why couldn't people see that? "Now look, could you please just stop for a minute and check if there is a cable running behind that wall? Please!" Gary urged the workers.

The small one put away the pick-axe with an exasperated comment on his lips that Gary was to stop bugging them and let them carry on working undisturbed, when he caught the desperate, insistent and somewhat sad expression in Gary's eyes. That look made his words stuck in the worker's throat. The tall one pushed the small one in the ribs to indicate he should ignore Gary and keep on working. But the small one hesitated. "Mike, maybe we should check it out."

With that he carefully scratched away some of the wall with his gloved hand. When he had gone in about 5 centimeters, he gestured his colleague over and pointed at a black cable that ran through the wall. "I'll be damned!" said the tall one. They looked up at Gary.

Or rather where Gary had been, because he wasn't there anymore. Gary had quickly led Marissa away, leaving the scene without another word. He knew what would have been coming. He was tired of all the questions about how he knew.

The smaller worker had climbed up to the top of the construction hole and saw Gary and Marissa leaving. He called after Gary, "Mister! Hey, mister!" But Gary and Marissa rounded the corner. Once they were out of sight, Gary took the paper out of the inside of his jacket and looked at the headline. 3 KILLED AS AMBULANCE RUNS RED LIGHT> Gary stopped walking, gasping a soft "Oh no."

Marissa turned to face him. "Gary? What is it?"

"It... it says '3 killed as ambulance runs red light'. I.. I gotta go."

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Will you be all right?"

"Sure. Go ahead, I'll be fine."

Gary hurried off towards the El while Marissa entered the hospital.

Marissa immediately went to the ICU and when she was just about to enter Chuck's room, when she heard someone call her name. "Miss Clark?"

Marissa turned around to where the voice had come from. A young doctor approached her. "Miss Clark, I'm Dr. Carter."

He wouldn't have had to tell her, she could reconize someone as easily by voice as sighted people could by face. "Dr. Carter." Marissa frowned in concern. "Has anything happened?"

"Well, er, yeah. Mr. Fishman's-" Carter suddenly remembered they had asked him to call the patient by his first name. "Chuck's condition has improved. We were able to take him off the vent today and cut down his medications."

A smile illuminated Marissa's face. "Thank you, Dr. Carter. I can see him now, can't I?"

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead." He went with her the few steps to the door and held it open for Marissa. She stepped through it, saying, "Thanks."

Marissa sat down at Chuck's bedside as she had done so often during the last few days. A feeling of relief washed over her when she noticed that the mechanical sound of the ventilator wasn't present anymore. She had started talking to Chuck during her visits, just as Gary always did. It gave her a feeling of assurance, a feeling that she wasn't sitting around helplessly. "So, Chuck. I hear you're making progress. That's a good thing. That's a very good thing." She paused for a while. "A shame that Gary's not here to see it. Actually, he was with me but the paper got in the way. I'm sure he'll be here as fast as he can, though. I just wish it wasn't gi-" She suddenly stopped in mid-sentence when she sensed a movement beside her. It wasn't - it couldn't be Chuck, could it? She heard a soft groan.

"Chuck?"

There was another low moan. Now she was sure it was Chuck. She went out the room and called the nurse that was standing nearby. The nurse told Marissa to wait outside the room and went in.

As Marissa stood in the hallway, she suddenly heard hurried footsteps from behind. This footfall could only be Gary. She turned round. "Gary?"

"Yeah," he answered, baffled. How could she distinguish him from all other people? It constantly amazed him. When he drew closer, he could see a happy smile on her lips and he thought he could even detect a twinkle in her eye.

Before Gary could ask, she said, "I think Chuck's waking up."

Gary couldn't believe it, it was too good to be true. "That's- that's wonderful!"

He could see the nurse hovering around Chuck's bed through the window, checking and adjusting the instruments. "Have you talked to him?"

"No, he's just coming round. They told me to wait here. Did you save those people?"

For a moment Gary was confused in his happiness. "Huh?" Then he remembered. "Oh, that. Yeah, yeah, no problem."

Then the nurse came out of Chuck's room. She nodded to the both of them, "He's not fully awake, it'll take a while. Feel free to go in, though."

Marissa and Gary didn't have to be told twice. Eagerly though also carefully, they entered the room. Gary pulled up another chair, so that he and Marissa could sit next to the bed. Gary regarded his friend for a moment. Chuck looked so much better without the ventilator being stuck into his throat. He could see Chuck's eye-lids fluttering and his head turning slightly. Softly, he spoke his name. "Chuck?"

Chuck seemed to stare right at him. However, he didn't look like he was aware what was going on. He heard Marissa's whisper, "What's he doing, Gary?"

"He- he just opened his eyes," Gary whispered back. There was a bit of a magic spell hanging in the air that made the both of them whisper.

Gary took Chuck's hand, trying to establish physical contact with his buddy. "Chuck, it's me, Gary. Me and Marissa. We're right here."

Chuck just uttered a low moan. Gary wasn't sure they were getting through to Chuck.

Marissa then said, "Chuck, I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, we're glad to have you back."

Just then Dr. Carter entered the room. "So, I hear Chuck has decided to join the living again," he said cheerfully. "But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave now. I doubt you'll get to talk to him today anyway. If you come back tomorrow, I think you'll have more luck." That was Gary's and Marissa's call. They both retreated and left Chuck in the doctors' and nurses' capable hands.


--...----...----...--

The next day, Gary and Marissa had arranged to meet and go to the hospital together to see Chuck again. However, Spike had accidentally stepped into a piece of broken glass and had to be treated by a vet. Gary had volunteered to come with Marissa but she had told him to go ahead, she would catch up with him in the hospital.

Now, Gary was on his way to the ICU once again. Never had he walked along the corridors with this degree of anticipation, though. When he arrived at Chuck's door, he first peered through the window in the door. A doctor he recognized as Dr. McNeill was standing at Chuck's bedside, obviously talking to Chuck. So, Gary waited a minute until Dr. McNeill came out. When the doctor did, he immediately saw Gary. "Mr. Hobson, is it?"

"Gary," he offered his first name.

"Gary. Your friend has already asked for you. But make it brief, Mr. Fishman still needs his rest."

"Yeah," Gary happily obliged. "Give me five minutes."

Dr. McNeill nodded and Gary went in, a honey-pie-smile on his lips, his stomach tingling with excitement. He slowly opened the door and stepped in. Chuck's torso, that still was mostly covered by some sort of white bandage, had been propped up a little and Chuck smiled at him.

Gary spoke first, "Hi ya, buddy. How's it goin'?" It sounded like the both of them had just met up after work, but these words seemed to say so much more. Gary pulled up one of the chairs to sit next to Chuck.

Chuck's lips twisted into one of his lopsided smirks, "Well, ya know, the nurses leave much to be desired and the room service is terrible. But apart from that," he attempted to make a dismissive gesture with one hand but winced at the pain it produced, "I'm fine."

Gary had to grin. He was overjoyed to see Chuck hadn't lost his sense of humor. "That's- that's good to hear." He looked to the floor as a sudden wave of joy and relief washed over him. When he looked up again, Chuck thought he could detect the slightest sign of Gary's eyes watering. Chuck could only imagine what his friends must have been through the last few days. "Hey, where's Marissa?"

"Oh, she'll be here soon. Spike had a piece of glass in his paw and she had to take him to the vet."

"He's gonna be all right, is he?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

Gary had wanted to tell Chuck so much, about what had happened over the last days, about how they had feared and worried, and here they were, making small talk. "Hey Chuck, it's good to have you back. I- I-" Gary couldn't get the words out right, it felt so awkward. "You know what, you need your rest. I'll drop by again tomorrow, okay? Sit tight."

"Yeah," Chuck snorted. "It's not that I'm about to go anywhere."

Gary smiled. "See ya tomorrow."

"I'll be here."

With that, Gary left the room and ran straight into Marissa's arms. She had Spike by her side who had a white dressing on his left front paw and limped a little. Gary approached the both of them. "Hey, Marissa. How's Spike?"

"Oh, he's gonna be all right in a few days. Have you been in there?" She gestured in the general direction of Chuck's room.

"Yeah, I talked to him. It's like he- like this never happened. Well, almost. And I bet he'd be glad to see you. The doctor said, just five minutes." Gary took Spike so that Marissa didn't have to take him inside the room. "I'll wait here."

Marissa entered and found her way to the chair that was still beside the bed. She heard Chuck say, "Marissa. It's good to see you."

"It's good to hear you too. How do you feel?"

"Ya know, I wish everybody wouldn't ask me how I'm feelin'," Chuck replied. "But apart from all these wires around me, I guess I'm gonna be all right. How's Spike, while we're at it?"

"Spike?" Gary must have told him about the glass splinter. "He'll be fine."

Marissa was amazed at how normal Chuck sounded. Hell, he had just awoken from a few days of lying in a coma! But she was glad he was awake at all, so why did she worry? She felt the thoughts swirl around in her head and had to get herself focus on the conversation. She was thinking about whether to tell him his mother had been here but then she dismissed the idea. It was a little too soon for that conversation. She heard Chuck's voice again.

"So, have I been missing out on much?"

"Yeah, the Sears Tower was bombed down and Bill Clinton resigned." She waited for Chuck's reaction. He didn't say anything and she could just imagine that deadpan expression on his face. "I'm kidding, Chuck. We've all been through a lot these last few days and now we're just glad to have you back."

Marissa didn't know how much Gary and he had talked about the paper, about not preventing Chuck being shot and then saving his life through the paper, so she didn't want to interfere. "Look, Chuck. You must be exhausted. I'll come back to visit tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

She touched Chuck's hand as she stood up and went out to join Gary in the hallway.


--...----...----...--

Gary and Marissa had both been to see Chuck the next day and also the two days after that. Their visits had been relatively brief as Chuck still needed to get his rest and take it easy. They had made small talk, not more. However, he seemed to get better with every day and that old color seemed to come back into his face. It was now the fourth day after Chuck had awoken from the coma and Gary was on his way to see Chuck. It was late afternoon and Gary had been preventing little accidents here and there over the day. It hadn't been the most stressful day, so he was quite content and cheerful.

All in a day's work, he mused silently as he took the elevator to the ICU. When he approached Chuck's room, he found it empty. The first reaction that shot through him was shock. A nurse passed by and saw just a hint of it in Gary's face. "Mr. Fishman has been moved to the regular ward. You were looking for him, weren't you?"

It took a few seconds for that statement to register. "I... er... yeah. Yeah, thank you," he stammered. He had already turned to go but then realized he didn't even know where to go. "Can you- can you tell me where they moved him to?"

"Surgical ward. Second floor."

Gary mumbled a Thanks and made his way there.

After he had checked with the nurse at the reception desk and got Chuck's room number, he had finally found him. Hospitals always made him uneasy with the smell of disinfectant and the white and sterile looking walls and bedcovers. He knocked on the door and entered. There were two beds in the room, one was occupied by an elderly man who was reading in a magazine, the other was, naturally, occupied by Chuck. Both looked up when Gary entered. Chuck's face lit up visibly as he recognized his buddy. As Gary drew closer, Chuck let out a sigh. "Gar. Thank God you're here. I thought I was gonna die of boredom."

"Well, I'm glad you're well enough to be bored." Gary said with a twinkle in his eye. It was good to see Chuck on the road of recovery.

"So, Gar, the paper giving you a hard time?"

"No. No, today was alright. A little somethin' here and here but, you know, nothing I couldn't handle. Not like-" He broke off in mid-sentence. Gary had been reluctant to talk about it. To talk about that day, that fateful day Chuck had been gunned down. He knew Chuck must have wanted to ask him why he hadn't been there to save him. He could read it in Chuck's face. "Chuck. Let's talk about this. I- I know you must have been asking yourself why it wasn't in the paper, why I didn't prevent your-" Gary struggled for the right words. "-you being shot."

Chuck's face sank visibly but he was gladly taking the opportunity to get clear on what had bothering him ever since the incident. He felt it was difficult for Gary to talk about it, so he let him speak.

"That day, it was-" Gary was still stammering. He looked at Chuck, whose face had become very serious; he seemed to be intent on listening carefully. Gary gathered his thoughts and started over. "There was another headline that day. 14 people were gonna be killed in a bus accident. And there was your article, the one about the hold-up. It hadn't given any names and it said three people were wounded. Not killed. Hell, Chuck, if I had known it was you, I would have gotten help. I thought- I thought I could make it to both places in time. I was so sure." Gary stopped but after a second went on.

"I prevented the bus accident, there was this dog, a German shepherd and he-" He corrected himself when he thought about Kira. "-she got hit by the bus. But no people were injured. Then I rushed to the store. Only... I was too late." The horror was still showing in Gary's eyes as the scenes unraveled in front of his mind's eye once again. "I- I saw your car and when I couldn't find you, I phoned the hospital. When I found out it was you... My God, I- I was blaming myself. Chuck... Look... I'm-" It was so difficult for Gary to utter these words. "Chuck, I'm sorry."

Chuck was visibly moved. He had suspected, no, he had known that something else must have gotten in the way, otherwise Gary would have prevented the hold-up. He had never really blamed Gary for not helping him, though he had felt a certain amount of bitterness; bitterness towards the paper, maybe also towards the fact that Gary hadn't been there, he couldn't say exactly. He looked Gary right in the eyes. "Hey Gar." Chuck's voice was laden with emotion. "There's no need to apologize. I know you did what you could." He thought he could detect a flicker of relief in Gary's eyes. Had Gary thought he would blame him for this? Had he expected him, Chuck, to condemn Gary for his actions?

He tried to lighten his friend's mood a little. "And after all, I'm gonna be up and about soon enough. Once I get this off me." He tapped the bandage on his chest.

Gary could smile again. "Yeah," Gary said somewhat reluctantly, knowing full well how annoying Chuck could be sometimes. "I'm sure you-" Just at that moment, there was another knock on the door. Gary, Chuck, and the older patient looked who it was and behind a bunch of yellow roses they could detect Marissa. Since she hadn't been in this particular room before, she called out Chuck's name.

"I'm back here, Gary's here too."

Now Marissa didn't have any problems navigating to Chuck's bed with a little help from Spike. Carefully putting the flowers onto Chuck's bed, she said, "I brought you something."

"Thank you, they're beautiful."

"Well, I couldn't judge that but they sure smell lovely," she said with a grin on her face.

Gary took them from the bed and went to look for a vase.

Marissa found another chair and placed it beside the bed. "So, I hear you're feeling better."

"Mh-hm." Chuck nodded. "Nothing better to make you well than hospital food," he said with a healthy portion of sarcasm. Marissa was hurting for Chuck. She vividly remembered when she had been in hospital five years ago, having her appendix taken out.

Gary returned and put the roses that were now carefully arranged in a plain white vase onto Chuck's bedside table. The three of them talked about their days and they were all laughing when Gary told them about how his Mum had left a rather confusing message on his answering machine last night, due to the fact that she and Bernie had been out and the both of them had obviously had a little too much of the red wine. The laughter wore off and Gary and Marissa both thought the same thing. Was it time to tell Chuck his mother had been here? There was an uncomfortable silence and Chuck couldn't help but notice the question that formed on both Gary's and Marissa's face. Chuck looked at his friends.

"What? What is it? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Marissa took the initiative. "It's your mother."

"My mother? What about her?"

"She was here, Chuck. The day after you got into hospital, when you were still unconscious. She stayed at your bedside for a while and then just left."

Gary and Marissa both noticed Chuck didn't feel comfortable about this. He just asked, "That's it?" in a way that told Gary and Marissa he didn't wanna talk about this anymore. So, they went back to more delightful conversation. Soon their time was up and they had to leave Chuck on his own once again.

Turning to go, Gary asked, "Is there anything I can get you? Like something to read?"

"Oh yeah. Great. Get me some novel. Anything entertaining. I'm bored to death here."


--...----...----...--

Another ten days later, Chuck was ready to be released from hospital. He had made a fairly good recovery and the doctors were satisfied with the way the healing process progressed. Gary and Marissa had been to visit him almost every day and with every day Chuck was wailing more and more about staying in hospital, it was really time he got home. Chuck still had a bandage on his chest and was restricted in moving his left arm but apart from that he was pretty much back to good old Chuck Fishman. Or at least he gave that impression to everyone. Sometimes Gary wasn't so sure that Chuck was feeling as good as he tried to show. But he figured if the doctors said it was okay for Chuck to go home, then it was okay.

So, on the big day Gary had gone to Chuck's apartment and packed some decent clothes for Chuck. He put the bag on Chuck's bed after he entered the room, greeting him with the usual "Hi buddy." Chuck smiled at him like he hadn't smiled in days. They were all happy about Chuck leaving the hospital. Marissa had an appointment, so she couldn't join them for getting Chuck home but she promised to meet the both of them at Chuck's apartment later. Chuck was just about to get ready, his legs already dangling over the edge of the bed. He seemed to be moving fairly easily, so Gary didn't want to impose any help. He was watching him out of the corner of his eye though, as to lend him help if needed.

He vividly remembered when he had been in hospital with a broken rib and how difficult getting dressed had been. But there still was something called pride and Gary didn't want to hurt Chuck's by helping him dress like a two-year-old kid. Gary had carefully chosen clothes that were easy to get into, it wouldn't do Chuck any good wrestling with a tight pullover now. It took about ten minutes for Chuck to be fully dressed but he had managed without Gary's help, though Gary had purposefully ignored a few painful groans uttered by Chuck. When Gary saw that Chuck was ready, he inquired, "So, you all dressed up and ready to go?"

"Yup, as ready as a plane at lift-off."

"Okay, then let's get outta here."

"Gar, you don't know how gladly I'll approve."

The two nurses on duty quickly told Chuck a Get well soon on his way and Gary and Chuck slowly but steadily made their way downstairs where a cab would take them to Chuck's apartment. When they got there, surprisingly Marissa was already making coffee. As they entered Chuck creased his nose, breathing in the smell of freshly made coffee. "You know guys, I can't begin to tell you how much I've been longing for a decent cup of coffee!"

Marissa and Gary both had to grin. Chuck sank down on his couch and Marissa soon had everyone equipped with a steaming cup of coffee and home-made cookies. Gary and Marissa had been shopping and preparing everything for Chuck's return home, so that he didn't need to take care of anything during these first few days.

The three of them talked for a while and, when Gary and Marissa were reasonably sure Chuck would be fine on his own, they left him to rest. The both of them knew he was more exhausted than he let show.


--...----...----...--

Chuck lay in bed, dead-beat to his bones. He was glad about being out of the hospital and finally in his own bed again. It felt good, real good. Nothing ever felt as good as your own bed! And he was tired and exhausted, maybe more that he'd like to admit to himself. What had he done today? He had gotten dressed for the first time in weeks, taken a cab home, drunk some coffee with Gary and Marissa, talked for a while, watched some TV and now he was lying in bed. Amazing, how quickly a body can deteriorate, he thought. In spite of him being dead tired, he couldn't fall asleep. His chest still hurt and he considered taking one of the painkillers they had left him but then decided to try without it first. His thoughts involuntarily wandered back to what Marissa and Gary had told him in the hospital the other day. His mother had been to visit him...

But why? They had probably phoned his parents when he had been in a coma, telling them about the life-threatening nature of his injury. What was so unusual about a mother wanting to see her son perhaps for the last time in her life? His mother. He had to think hard, trying to remember when he had seen her or his father for the last time. That must have been close to ten years now. Or maybe even longer? He had tried to banish any thought about his parents from his mind over the last few years and even now a cold hatred and bitterness surfaced when he thought about what they had done. Not only to him but to the rest of the family. He was ashamed and angry at the same time. How could they have done such a thing? How could they?

With these final thoughts, Chuck drifted off to sleep even before he could attempt to find a satisfying answer for the question that he hadn't been able to answer for many many years.


--...----...----...--

The next afternoon Marissa dropped in to find out how Chuck was doing. Chuck felt like a three year old child, being looked after by a babysitter. But in a way he was glad that someone was around most of the time. There were still a lot of things he couldn't do on his own and either Marissa or Gary gladly lent a helping hand.

Gary had already been there in the morning before he had to go off on some wild goose chase the paper had imposed on him. Chuck had spent the better part of the day still in bed but decided to get up when Marissa had dropped in. Chuck had voiced his desire for getting some fresh air outside. So, he and Marissa had taken a little stroll around the block. She sensed that even those few hundred meters had already strained Chuck and once back in the apartment, they settled on his couch once again with a cup of tea for a change. At first Chuck had protested. "I don't have any stomach trouble, remember?"

But Marissa had only smiled and said, "Relax Chuck, you'll like it." She had brought a strong Darjeeling, her favorite tea. She put the kettle on and stuck her head round the corner of Chuck's kitchen. "And anyway, if you don't like it, I'll make you your coffee."

A few minutes later the water was boiling and she prepared the tea. Once she thought it was strong enough, she poured herself and Chuck a cup. "Do you take sugar or milk?"

"Sugar, two spoons," she heard Chuck mumbling on the couch. She put the sugar into Chuck's and milk into her own mug, stirred and then went over to the couch. "Here you are," she handed him the mug cheerfully.

"Thanks." He sipped and almost burnt his tongue. "Ouch, it's hot!"

"Well, what did you expect? Iced tea?"

Chuck just snorted. But he had to admit, the tea didn't taste so bad. He took another careful sip. He heard Marissa say, "So, you like it?"

"Yeah, it's not too bad."

That didn't sound too convinced but Marissa knew Chuck actually liked it, only didn't really want to admit that.

But something else was weighing on Marissa's mind. Her mother had just phoned her today and they had happily chit-chatted about the latest gossip in their family. Which had made her think about Chuck's mother's strange visit to the hospital. She was aware of the fact that Chuck obviously wasn't too comfortable speaking about it but she wanted to confront him again. "Chuck," she began, "I know it's probably none of my business but your mother - you wouldn't have told your parents about your accident if the hospital hadn't phoned them, would you?"

She immediately knew she shouldn't have started this conversation. She couldn't actually see the bittersweet expression on Chuck's face but the uncomfortable silence that greeted her spoke chapters. "I- I'm sorry, Chuck, I-"

"No. No, it's alright Marissa. I just don't like to talk about it, all right?"

"Yeah, I- I respect that," she quietly said. "But sometimes it makes all the difference if you talk about it to someone."

There was another awkward moment of silence. Marissa then asked, "You want any more tea?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

Marissa had to smile.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, it's just- So, you like the tea?"

"Yes, actually yeah."

"See, I told ya you'd like it."


--...----...----...--

Marissa put down the two brown paper bags she had brought back from her shopping onto the kitchen table. While she put the things where they belonged, she found herself thinking about dropping by Gary’s. She hadn’t talked to him for days. Chuck was recovering quickly and she only dropped in every now and then. In the beginning, the time after Chuck had come home, she had run into Gary occasionally but now, as both of them didn’t go to Chuck’s house that often anymore, they rarely crossed paths. It was shortly after seven in the evening and after her rushed shopping trip through crowded malls, she was looking forward to a nice and relaxing walk to the Blackstone.

As Marissa was walking through the corridor towards Gary’s room, she hoped he wasn’t out on one of his rescues. She softly knocked on the door. When she didn’t hear an answer, she knocked again, a little louder this time.

Gary suddenly awoke form a weary doze. Hadn’t there just been a knock on the door? He heard someone who sounded very much like Marissa call his name.

Sleepily, he walked over to the door and opened it, while muttering, "Yeah, I’m coming."

He opened the door and it was indeed Marissa, standing in the doorway. Gary rubbed his neck that had gone a little stiff from lying in an awkward position on the couch. "Marissa. Come on in. Is anything up?"

"No, not really. I thought I'd just drop by. Gary, you sound tired."

"What? Uh, yeah. I- I've been- I musta dozed off there." He gestured to the couch automatically while speaking, even if Marissa couldn't actually see it. "I had a pretty rough day."

Marissa's brow furrowed in concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

"Maybe I should leave again, then. I must have woken you."

"No, no, that's all right. Actually, I could use a cup of coffee right now." Gary went to the kitchenette and started preparing the coffee.

A few minutes later, he produced two steaming mugs of coffee and handed one to Marissa who had sat down on Gary's couch. Gary asked, "Did you see Chuck today?"

"No, I checked in on him two days ago. He seemed fine."

"Yeah, I saw him a few days ago."

Marissa didn't know how Gary and Chuck had gotten along since Chuck's recovery. She painfully remembered how Gary had suffered during the time Chuck had been in the coma. She wondered if he had talked about it to Chuck. "Gary, are you..." She didn't know how to start. "Are you and Chuck - are you all right?"

An expression of surprise crossed Gary's face. "Yeah, sure. Why sh-" He suddenly stopped. Marissa knew the whole story, didn't she? She knew about how close he had been to a breakdown, she knew what he had gone through, how he had blamed himself for what had happened. She had been there, all the time. But he hadn't told her that he had talked to Chuck about everything, that he had at least partially been freed from the blame. He should have told her, her of all people. He should have seen that she worried about him. He tried to explain it to her.

"Everything's fine. I- Chuck and I talked about it, I told him about it; about the day he... the day the accident happened. He said he understood and I think he meant it." Gary had to smile. "Chuck can be a pain in the neck but he's got a kind heart, as much as I hate admitting it."

Marissa now smiled too. That was exactly how she thought about Chuck. "Did you tell him about the construction works too?"

Gary grew silent for a while. "No, I didn't tell him that."

"Why not, Gary?"

"I- I don't know. I guess it didn't seem important."

"Don't you think Chuck has a right to know?"

Gary quietly had to admit, "Yeah. Yeah, guess he does."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Marissa felt Gary didn't want to talk about it and she wasn't going to make him.

The evening ended quite abruptly with Gary having to tend to an incident in the paper he had almost forgotten about. They left the hotel together and Gary hurried off in the direction of Lake Michigan.


--...----...----...--

When Marissa was nearing her apartment door, Spike hesitated, which made Marissa stop. Was there someone at her door? Before she could ask, she heard a familiar voice.

"Marissa, don't worry. It's me, Chuck."

Marissa let out a sigh of relief which she hoped wasn't too obvious. "Chuck. What are you doing here?" She was genuinely surprised. She couldn't remember Chuck ever having paid her a surprise visit at her apartment. Something must be bothering him.

"Oh, I, uh- I just thought I'd drop by, you know. It's not too late, is it?"

There was definitely something bothering him, Chuck never just 'dropped by'. "Why don't you come in first?" Marissa said while opening her door. The both of them entered. After they had gotten rid of their jackets and Chuck had sat down on Marissa's couch, she asked, "You want anything to drink? Coffee, Coke, Soda?"

"Something sweet."

"Coke?"

"Yeah, coke's fine."

Marissa went to get some coke for Chuck and herself. She settled herself next to Chuck on the couch. At first they exchanged pleasantries, made small talk. Marissa decided that if Chuck had indeed come by to empty his heart, he himself had to make the first move. Eventually that moment arrived.

"Marissa, do you meet with your parents often?"

So, that was it. His parents. "Well, my Dad died a couple of years ago but I visit my Mom every now and then. We talk on the phone frequently."

Chuck chuckled sarcastically. "I don't even know what my mother's voice sounds like."

Marissa mentally went back to the moment where she and Gary had met Chuck's mother in the hospital. She could vividly remember her voice. "She has a rather deep and very warm voice." She silently added, A voice that was laden with sadness and sorrow.

"Chuck, do your parents know that you've recovered?"

"I sure didn't tell them. I dunno, maybe the hospital phoned them."

After a moment's silence, Marissa said, "I haven't got any idea what's been going on between you and your parents but don't you think they have a right to know?"

"Yeah, that's what I've been trying to figure out myself. They probably do."

There was another rather uncomfortable silence. Chuck shifted his position on the couch and took a sip at his coke. With the glass in hand he continued, "Must be at least ten years since I've last spoken to my parents. You know, I had moved out immediately after college. And one day I get this phone call from my mother, asking me to come home, they had something important to tell me and my brother. So, I went home. I didn't know what had made it worth having a family reunion other than Christmas. When were all assembled around the big round kitchen table, I finally found out. I was maybe 22 then, my brother was 20. And my parents had decided that now was the time to tell us about a sister we never knew we had. Yeah, I had a sister. And I didn't know I had for 22 years!"

Chuck fumbled with his glass of coke but continued, " She had been born mentally handicapped and my parents couldn't take it upon themselves to raise her. So, they gave her away. To some children's home. Just like that." Chuck's voice was spraying with contempt and disdain. "Can you imagine? They not only gave away their own child, they also didn't have the courage to tell their sons about her for 20 years. She was three years older than me and she apparently died at the age of 15. I never had the chance to get to know my own sister. What kind of parents are they to pretend their daughter doesn't exist just because she's not like all the other children? I was angry. I accused them of all sorts of things and then rushed out of the house. I've never spoken to my parents since."

Marissa was speechless for a moment. She had suspected something along these lines behind Chuck's family dispute. But it still took a moment to sink in. "And what about your brother?"

"Oh, Marc, yeah. He tried to be the mediator for a while. He phoned me a couple of times, telling me to come to my senses and apologize to my parents. Pffft. Me? Apologize? Was he kidding? I told him to kiss his own butt. That was about the end of it."

"Do you still feel that way now?"

"I dunno. I mean, it's ten years. Maybe now would be a good time to try and pull down those walls and get in contact with my parents again. I'm not so sure."

"Your mother already made the first step, Chuck. I think she still loves you. And maybe she regrets what she's done. Some decisions seem to be right at the time but the longer you think about them, you start to doubt them. I believe you should give your parents the chance to explain what they did. It's still your decision."

"Yeah, it's my decision," Chuck said with a sigh.

"Does Gary know about this?"

"Gary? Uh-uh. I- I haven't talked to anybody about this but you," Chuck admitted.

It was none of Marissa's business to judge about who Chuck confided in about his family matters. But he had known Gary for so many years and hadn't talked to him about this? But if Chuck hadn't decided not to tell Gary, then she wasn't going to change that.

Chuck put down his glass and looked at his watch. "You know, Marissa, I think I should go home, it's gotten late."

Marissa felt the awkwardness of the situation hanging in the air. Chuck had just told her his probably biggest secret and now he was shutting down all the blinds again, anxious to flee the scene. But who was she to restrain him? She had to try though. "Chuck, you can stay here overnight if it's too much trouble getting home. I'll sleep on the couch."

"No. No, I'm fine." With that he stood up and grabbed his coat. "Thanks for everything."

"Don't mention it. Any time."

She threw him a "Get home safely" as he was already walking down the corridor and he answered with a "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Marissa locked the door after him and prepared for going to bed with her thoughts still spinning around what Chuck had just told her.


--...----...----...--

Miaow.

Thump.

Gary groaned as he heard the all too familiar sounds once again. He looked at the digital clock on his bedside table. 6:30. Of course.

Inside himself a battle raged. A battle about deciding whether to get up and retrieve that cursed piece of printed paper outside his door or whether to stay in bed five more minutes, leaving the paper to its own fate. He pulled the pillow over his head, pretending just for a minute that the paper didn't exist. The minute ticked by and expanded to 10 minutes, then 15. Gary was still half awake and tried to ignore the occasional miaow in front of his door. He didn't care if the neighbors complained. But when the feline sounds grew too insistent, he eventually got up.

He retrieved the paper and, still in his boxer-shorts and T-shirt, gave Cat his usual bowl of catfood. To himself he mumbled, "Mm-yumm, Tuna Treat," reading out the can's label. Cat didn't really care if it was Tuna Treat or Chicken Chomp, as long as it was cat-food. Gary then fixed his own cereal and settled down to check if there was anything in the paper. There was nothing that needed his immediate help on the first few pages. He munched away on his cornflakes, hoping it would stay a slow news day.

Suddenly, he choked on his flakes, spitting little crumbs all over the table. A smaller article had his immediate attention. >EL STATION ROOF COLLAPSES - THREE PEOPLE INJURED That in itself wasn't so unusual. What had Gary shocked was the picture which was given next to the article. He could just barely make out Chuck's face, lying on one of the ambulance gurneys that was featured in the picture. Not another déjà vu experience! He quickly flew over the text. 7:10 was the given time of the accident. Gary took another look at his clock. 6:56. As quickly as he could, he jumped into the first pair of jeans he could find, threw on a shirt, and ran out of the hotel.

As Gary was stepping out the front door, a strong and powerful gust of wind caught him in the face. The El station was maybe 10 minutes away. He started running. He could still make it. His sides were already stinging with pain from running. But he had to get there in time, he couldn't let this happen again. He just couldn't. He quickened his pace.

Rounding the corner, he saw the El station. The roof that sheltered the stairs up to the El platform was going to collapse and bury three innocent passers-by under it. Thankfully, the roof was still in place now. Gary quickly checked his watch. 7:09. He sprinted towards the stairs and could see Chuck already coming from the other direction. He yelled at him, "Chuck! Stop! Don't go up there!"

Chuck's first reaction was confusion but then he recognized Gary. Gary sounded dead serious, so he'd better do as he was told. Gary approached him and was so out of breath that he was barely able to speak. He gestured to the stairs up to the El platform. "Roof is - gonna - collapse," he managed to get out between taking breaths.

Chuck just nodded, still startled. But Gary then remembered there were going to be more victims than just Chuck. He looked around. There was nobody else down on the street who was near enough to be taking the stairs up there. They had to be coming from upstairs. Oh my God, shot through Gary's head.

Gusts of wind made the wooden structure of the roof creak and Gary still had the picture from the paper in front of his mind's eye. He could make out a woman with a child at her side just entering the first flight of stairs from above. He let out a desperate "No." and wanted to run up the stairs when he felt a hand at his arm. It was Chuck's.

"Gar, you can't-"

But Gary didn't even let him finish and freed his arm from Chuck's grip. He started up the stairs and shuddered as another wind-gust made the roof creak. He could make it! He was almost there. Yelling at the woman to get away from the roof, he took the few remaining steps and literally shoved the woman and the child up the stairs again. Three more steps to go. Two. There was an even louder creak, followed by the sound of splintering breaking wood. One last step. That was it! A deafening sound of crashing wood and metal resonated through the whole street. Gary threw himself protectively over the woman and her kid just in time. A small piece of a wooden beam caught Gary in his lower back. It wasn't a big one but big enough to make him yelp in pain. When he was reasonable sure the immediate danger was over, he crawled off the two of them, seeing if they were okay. The woman looked shocked and the child had started to cry.

Gary asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," the woman replied. She got up and took her kid in her arms, stroking his hair soothingly. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

The kid still sobbed but nodded. An expression of relief washed over Gary's face. Then he heard his name being called out. Chuck was still standing down on the street, yelling his name. "Gary? Gar, are you okay?"

Gary yelled back, "Yeah. No one's hurt. Call the fire department."

"I already did."

Half an hour later, the firemen had cleared away enough of the rubble to make the stairs passable for the few people who had been trapped on top of the El platform, including Gary. He was greeted by a still concerned Chuck. "Are you sure you're okay?" He knew that Gary liked to understate his injuries, should he have obtained any.

Gary told him about the wooden beam but then added, "I'm fine, really. I'll live. I've had worse."

"You shouldn't mess around with back-injuries, you know that?" Chuck told him.

"Well yeah. But it's just a scratch. It was only a small piece of wood." Gary tried to convince him.

"Okay, if you say so." Chuck finally gave in. "You probably saved my life there, Gar. I- I guess I have to thank you for that."

Gary shrugged it off. "Well, you know, that's what I do. All the time. Saving lives. All in a day's work." He mentally went back to how he had saved Chuck's life before by telling the workers about the power supply cable. He suddenly had to smile at the notion.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, I- It's- This is actually the second time I've saved your life."

Chuck looked at him suspiciously. "How so?"

"It was when you were- when you were still in hospital. It's a long story."

"Well, I have plenty of time. Let's go somewhere for a drink after this shock."

Gary agreed. A drink sounded like a very good idea. He looked at Chuck. "McGinty's?"

And Chuck just answered, "McGinty's."

Chuck's monologue:
So, there we have it. One decision precedes the next. Basically, that's how our lives function. You can only take one choice at a time then pray you made the right one. But some people have more important choices to make that others. In Gary's case, one decision might mean the life or death of someone. Like my life or death. But in the end it all turned out right. That's what it all boils down to. You gotta hope that in the end all turns out right.

THE END.