Chapter 7
Although the hatch was open, the Jupiter held the tensions of the day tightly within its walls. The stale air was stagnant like that in an overcrowded waiting room. The Robinson family was falling apart and Maureen knew that she, alone, didn't have the power to heal them. Frustrated, she left the Jupiter in search of some clean, fresh air, hoping it would revive her spirit.
She didn't have to go far to find inspiration. As she descended the ramp she found Penny, Will and the Robot working on a chair they had taken from John's desk. Will was attaching wheels to the legs while Penny and the Robot were working on a small motor.
Will looked up and called to her. "Hey, Mom, come see the wheel chair we're putting together for Don. We'll be done by the end of the day. We still have to add this plate here for a footrest. Penny's adapting the motor that will make these gears turn for the wheels. Do you think Don will like it? I mean I don't want him getting mad at us or anything."
"Ah, Will, he won't be mad at you. He'll appreciate the chair because he'll be able to get around on his own."
Penny, aware of what had happened earlier, asked, "Mom, do you think Dad will be angry at us for taking his desk chair? It was the only one with arms on it, but I was afraid to ask him after he and Don had their argument."
"I'm sure it's fine, dear. One thing you need to understand about your father is that he feels responsible for us. He's frustrated, because he knows there really is nothing he can do to fix this. And it hurts him to see Judy so upset. By the way, have you seen her?"
"She said she was going for a walk. She went down the path towards the caves. I think she might have gone back to where she and Don had their picnic. Do you want me to go find her?"
"No, that's alright. You and Will keep working. The sooner you get that chair together, the sooner Don can get out of that bed. I'll go find her."
Maureen moved quickly and carefully down the path. She marveled at the resiliency of children and wished that all of them could follow their lead in resolving things. Passing the cave where Penny was trapped, Maureen gave it only a brief glance as she continued on her way to search for Judy. Silently, however, she gave a short prayer of thanks that no one had been killed and asked for the strength to help her family get through this crisis.
It wasn't much longer until she reached the precipice and found Judy standing with her arms folded against her chest, staring out at the gorgeous view. She quietly called her daughter's name, who turned in acknowledgement.
"I couldn't stand being inside the ship anymore. I had to get away from Dad and Don and… everything."
"I know, Judy. I found it stifling too." She strode to her daughter's side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's beautiful here. Is this where Don proposed to you?"
Judy shivered at the memory. "Actually, the exact spot was on the cliff overhang that fell into the valley during the Earthquake. Don's quickness saved us both, or we would have fallen along with it."
They stood, alone in their thoughts, for several minutes. Maureen gave yet another prayer of thanks that she still had both her daughters with her. Judy worried that her relationship with Don would never revert to the happiness they had shared that fateful morning.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"What if he never recovers?"
"Now, Judy, just hope for the best."
"That won't work for me this time, Mom. This is my life we're talking about. I have to be prepared for the worst. You know how stubborn he is…"
Maureen sighed and wished for the days when a kiss and a bandaide could make it better. "You're right Judy. Platitudes don't help. You both still have a lot to go through and it won't be easy."
"Especially for Don."
"Regardless of what he says or does, Judy, he still loves you. Keep reminding yourself of that."
"I just hope he gives me the chance to remind him."
He had no idea how long it had been since breakfast. He had replayed the morning's events several times in his mind before he found himself in yet another disorienting dream.
A brilliant light enveloped them as they pledged their commitment in front of their family. Judy was dressed in a flowing white gown and a lace mantilla surrounded her beautiful face. Don wore military whites with a red rose pinned to his jacket. The ceremony ended with a heart felt kiss and the congratulations of their loved ones. He carried her over the threshold to their room and laid her on the bed. She reached up to take the rose from his jacket and pricked her finger on a thorn. The blood ran down her hand and onto her dress transforming its whiteness into a bright shade of crimson. Her face reflected utter horror as the stem of the rose quickly grew into a thorn-covered vine, wrapping itself around his body so that only his arms and head were free. He was rooted in place, unable to move. He wanted desperately to call for help, but he realized that anyone who came close risked being scratched and cut by the thorns that surrounded him.
Jerking himself awake, he heard a loud clatter as his breakfast tray fell to the floor. He rubbed his eyes to reorient himself and then managed to roll to his side to reach down and replace the fallen objects onto the tray. The cup rolled farther away, so he stretched as far as he could and upset the precarious balance he held at the edge of the bed. Gravity pulled him down and he found himself lying on top of what was left of his breakfast.
John rushed in and was immediately at his side. "What do you think you were doing?"
Don's face reddened in embarrassment as he pushed himself up so John could remove the tray. "Trying to pick up the mess I made."
As John helped him back into the bed, he admonished him, "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did. I don't want anybody else cleaning up after me."
"But you made more of a mess by trying to do it yourself. Remember that." As he helped Don change into a clean tee shirt, he continued. "I'm sorry about what I said this morning."
"Don't be. I am wallowing in self-pity and I hate it. I can't stand being so helpless and dependent on everybody."
"That's better than being dead."
"I'm not so sure about that."
"That's your self-pity talking."
"Self pity or reality?"
"Don, you will recover."
"Maybe." He looked John directly in the eye and continued, "And maybe not. Positive thinking can't regenerate damaged nerves, John. You know, I could deal with not walking. I could even get used to cleaning out my catheter and stuff, but the one thing I don't think I'll ever be able to accept is…" He stopped, not sure if he should continue.
John understood and quietly commented, "There are a lot of ways you can show Judy that you love her."
"Yeah, every way but one."
"That isn't so important. What is important is that you love each other."
"Judy's a natural mother, John. If I don't recover…"
"Don, put all your energy into your rehab right now. Save the rest to worry about later. Besides, I'm still too young and good-looking to be a grandfather."
He saw the twinkle in John's eye, and for the first time since his injury, he laughed. And it felt good.
