Chapter Seven
Friday 8:30 PM - 37 Hours Missing
By the time Jack and Don had returned to the office, Don felt as though he had been run over several times by a large bulldozer. As soon as Alan saw his older son, he was immediately concerned. Don looked terrible, and Jack silently communicated to the rest of the team to give the two of them some space. Jack led the team into a small conference room, adjacent to the central hub of the squad room, to brief them on what they had discovered about Charlie.
Terry was careful to position herself so that she could see Don, who walked slowly up to his father. He looked so worn and defeated that her heart sank. She feared the worst, and found that her fears were realized as Jack began to recount their interviews with both of the doctors that Charlie had seen. As she listened to Jack detail the circumstances of Charlie's medical condition, she watched Don grasp his father's shoulders and speak directly to him. Alan raised his hands to his mouth and began shaking. After a moment the two men embraced. She could almost feel the overwhelming sadness that they were feeling, as she listened to Jack describe the brain tumor that had been discovered. Don gently led his father to a chair and continued to speak quietly to him. Her attention was brought back to the briefing as Jack asked her a question that she didn't quite hear. "I'm sorry Jack, what did you say?"
"I asked, if you had any insight as to where a brain tumor patient experiencing absence seizures might go? Is it possible that the tumor is affecting Charlie's behavior in such a way that he would begin to do things that are out of character for him?"
"That is possible, Jack. I am not as familiar with the behavior of brain tumor patients, as with other psychological disorders, but I do know that some tumor patients can have a complete change in their personality." Just then a thought occurred to her. "Has anyone been to his mother's grave?"
Jack looked surprised for a second then said, "Good thinking, Terry. I should have thought of that myself. Do you know where it is?" When she nodded he turned to David. "You and Terry check that out, and call if you find any sign that he has been there. It's getting dark so take flashlights and look for bicycle tire tracks."
Terry frowned in thought for a moment before addressing the team again. "It is also possible that he has suffered a catastrophic memory loss. This is something that can happen with brain tumors. I don't know what part of his brain is being affected by this tumor, but if he doesn't remember who he is, he could have ended up in a shelter or be on the street living among the homeless."
Jack nodded his understanding. "Danny and I are not familiar with this aspect of LA, so we need to split into two teams. Agent Blum, you go with Danny, and Agent McGrail, you come with me. We need to start looking for Charlie in shelters, subway stations, underground tunnels or anywhere else where there are a large number of homeless. According to Doctor Heising, Charlie is a ticking time bomb and we need to find him, and get him to the hospital as quickly as possible."
David looked out the window of the conference room at Don and his father. "What about Don?"
"Don hasn't slept in almost two days and the strain is getting to him. I'm going to order him to go home with his father for the night." Jack turned and looked at the team, until he had everyone's undivided attention. "I know that you are all tired, and have gotten precious little sleep yourselves, but Don just got some devastating news about his kid brother. I don't think that looking through the LA area's transient population will improve his stress level at this point, and he is going to be of little use to us until he has gotten a couple of hours of rest." The nods all around told Jack that these people understood his decision. They had all taken turns catching a few minutes sleep here and there over the last two days, and it wasn't their loved one who was out there.
David grabbed his jacket and turned to Jack. "Terry and I will call from the cemetery if we find anything. If we don't, we will start at the shelter downtown by Grand Central Station. Don and Charlie's father volunteers there from time to time. He may have instinctively headed there."
As the team filed out of the conference room, Terry and Jack approached Don and Alan. They both looked the worse for wear, and it was clear that Alan had shed some tears. Jack looked at Don for a moment before speaking. "Go get some rest Don; we can handle things for a while."
Don just stood there staring at Jack as though he didn't understand what Jack had just said. "Are you telling me to go home?"
"Look, Don, you're dead on you're feet. Right now there isn't much you can do. Get some rest so that you're fresh. Falling down because you're exhausted won't do Charlie any good. You need to trust the team to keep things moving in the right direction."
Alan had recovered from the initial shock of finding out about Charlie's tumor, and put his hand on Don's shoulder. "Mr. Malone is right. You're not going to be any help to Charlie by getting sick."
Somewhere deep inside, Don recognized that Jack and his father were right; but Dr. Heising's words echoed in his mind, making him resist their suggestion. "I can't just quit, Jack! I have to find him. I have to tell him..." Don stopped short and turned away from them. He walked over to the window and stared out into the darkening sky. "It's going to be cold tonight."
Terry stepped up to Don and took hold of his hand. She didn't say anything. She just stood close to him, offering support. Don refused to look anywhere but at the sky outside the window and when he spoke it was through a tightly controlled voice. "He wants to be my friend. He said that in one of his journals. How could he not know?" Don felt his control slipping and he took a breath to quiet the torrent of emotions boiling just under the surface. He realized that if he didn't get a little sleep, he would do exactly what Jack had suggested. He would fall flat on his face. The fact that he was having so much difficulty keeping his emotions under control was evidence of that. Don turned away from the window and said to Jack, "I'll go home with Dad, but you have to promise to call me if you turn up any new leads."
Jack nodded. "I will call."
Don started for the door with his father, not looking back. Once they were out in the parking garage Alan said, "Don, you really do look dead on your feet. Leave your car, I'll drive." Don knew that his father had probably not gotten much sleep either, but he was too tired to argue the point. He just turned and followed his father to his car.
As they drove back to Pasadena, Alan kept glancing over at Don, feeling his concern growing. His eldest son was more than tired. Alan feared that Don had begun to lose hope. His eyes were empty and filled with a despondency that was a little frightening. Alan knew that telling Don that they would find Charlie wasn't going to dispel his fears, and hoped that some sleep would do for him what words could not.
Friday 9:30 PM - 38 Hours Missing
By the time Alan pulled into the driveway it was dark out and, as Don had predicted, it was quite chilly. Don walked reflexively into the house and flopped down on the sofa, covering his face with his hands as questions burned just behind his eyes. 'How did this all happen? Why wouldn't Charlie want to be comforted by his family? What did I do to drive him away?' The emotions that he had kept so tightly under control broke free. Before he was even aware of it, he leaned forward and began to cry.
Alan, who had been watching Don closely, sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Alan didn't try to soothe his son's crying or stop him in any way. He knew that Don needed this release but wanted to offer him support and comfort.
After a few minutes Don stopped and sat back against the couch, exhausted. "I don't know where to look next, Dad. What if I can't find him before…
How can I live the rest of my life without him?"
"Donnie, I want to tell you something that I have never shared with anyone else. When your mother died, I stopped talking to God."
Don, who had been staring up at the ceiling, frowned and sat up, looking at his father. "You did?"
"I was so angry and hurt. I felt betrayed. How could he take her from me and from you boys? I was supposed to spend my retirement years with her, not mourning her. I couldn't comprehend a God who was so cruel, so I decided to stop believing in him. I lost my faith, Donnie. Once that happened I became an empty shell. I lost interest in everyone and everything. Then one day, months later, as I sat in that chair over there thinking about her, I became so angry that I threw our wedding album through the bay window."
Alan let that sink in for a moment. He had told Don and Charlie that the window had been broken when a ladder slipped and hit it. Don looked over at the window, genuinely surprised by this admission. "I remember yelling up at the sky, 'Why? How could you do this to me?' Before I realized what I was doing, it dawned on me that I was talking to God again. Well, in actuality I was screaming at him, but the point is I had acknowledged his presence in my life again. So I kept on screaming at him, then crying to him and finally talking to him. I realized that, somehow, I hadn't really lost my faith after all. When I look into your eyes, son, I see your fear for Charlie, but you haven't lost him. Don't lose your faith, Donnie. You must believe that we will find him. Without that belief, you rob yourself of the ability to find him, because it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Charlie needs you to believe, Donnie, he needs you to have faith that you will find him."
Don sat stunned by what his father had said. It made sense to him, and the dark hopelessness that had begun to fill his heart lifted somewhat. He looked out the front window into the night and whispered to himself almost as though reciting a mantra, "I will find him. I will not abandon him to despair. I will not let him down." Don turned to face his father, and to Alan's great relief the hollow look had left his eyes.
"Donnie, you need to get some rest. I'll make us a couple of cups of herbal tea." Alan squeezed Don's shoulder as he rose to go to the kitchen. Ten minutes later when he came back to the living room with two cups of tea, Don was sound asleep on the couch. Alan covered him with a blanket, and then sat down in his recliner to drink his tea and watch his son sleep.
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Don found himself looking out at a bright sunny morning. He strapped on a helmet and readjusted the satchel he had across his shoulders as he climbed onto his bike. As he started out of the driveway he looked back at the house and saw his father watching him pedal away, from the kitchen window. The breeze was cool on his face as he rode down the street. The east end of campus was not a very long ride, only about fifteen minutes. As he rode past Braddocks Ravine and looked down the wooded steep slope, he felt a slight tingling in his stomach. He looked back at the path he was riding on and focused on the university in the distance. Just around that bend ahead he would see the tall clock tower by the library. Suddenly Don felt his stomach lurch as if he were falling. He let out a short yelp and spread his arms to try to break his fall.
Don sat up panting hard in the dimly-lit living room. He was disoriented and didn't understand where he was or how he had gotten there. Alan, who had also fallen asleep in the recliner, woke to Don's yell.
"Donnie? What's wrong?"
Don turned to his father's voice and shook his head trying to clear it. His heart was thumping in his chest and he could hear his pulse in his ears. Slowly the fog began to lift from his mind as he woke up. He had been sent home with his father to get some rest. He hadn't slept in nearly two days because Charlie had gone missing. Charlie! "Oh God, Charlie! Dad, I know where he is! I know where Charlie is!"