Ezra looked around trying to figure out how he'd ended up in a rowboat in the middle of a vast body of water. It extended as far as he could see in all directions without even a hint of land showing. The water was mirror smooth. The sun shown in a crystal blue sky and a warm breeze blew against his face. Overhead, a gull sailed by letting him know that even if he couldn't see it, land had to be somewhere.
He settled back in the boat, breathing deeply of the salt tanged air and closed his eyes. Despite how strange the situation was, the warm breeze and gentle rocking motion of boat was starting to lull him into a light doze. He'd rest for a bit and then he'd figure out where he was and how to find land.
He hadn't been relaxing long when the rocking of boat grew more pronounced and almost violent. The warm breeze cooled until he was shivering, and he opened his eyes to see dark clouds blotting out the sun. Looking around, he saw he was no longer alone. In the distance, arrayed in a circle around the rowboat, were six figures. Peering closely at them, he could see that they were his friends. As soon as he identified them, he heard their voices calling out to him, begging him to save them.
He grabbed the oars and started rowing toward the nearest of his friends. As he did, the wind picked up and waves started crashing against the hull of the boat. He soon found he was unable to make any headway in the direction he was going. He changed direction rowing toward a different one of his friends putting the wind to his back. He hoped it would aid him in making it to the man he'd identified as Josiah. Once Josiah was in the boat, with the two of them rowing, they'd be able to rescue the rest of their friends.
It seemed as soon as he changed direction, so too did the wind. It started to feel as if the wind and waves together were trying to keep him from getting to Josiah. He changed direction again, this time trying to get to Chris only to get the same result. Whichever direction he went, whichever of his friends he tried to reach, wind and waves became a wall holding him back.
The cries for help soon died away as, one by one, each of his friends disappeared beneath the surface of the churning water. It was only when the last man was gone that the wind died down and the water became still and glass like again. The dark clouds disappeared and once more the sun shone. Ezra didn't notice this, though. All he knew was that he'd failed his friends. Because of his ineptitude, they were gone, and he was alone as he'd always been...would always be.
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Ezra woke with a jerk and quickly indrawn breath. He lay still for a moment to get his bearings. For a fleeting moment, he thought he was still on the boat. "Dream. It's just a dream, he muttered." He scrubbed his hands over his face then turned to look at the time – 8:15. There was no light showing around the curtains, so he guessed it to be pm and not am. He thought he'd been asleep for a longer time. Ever since he was little, he'd always have strange fever dreams whenever he was ill. If past were prologue, the dream would repeat if tried to go back to sleep.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but he was unable to let go of the feeling of helplessness and failure from the dream. He needed to see that his friends – or at least one of them – was safe.
Pushing the covers from his body, he slowly swung his legs around and sat up. By force of habit, he reached down to the foot of the bed where his bathrobe would be. As he did so, he remembered that he'd managed to soil it when he'd been vomiting and that it needed to be laundered so he was surprised when his hand encountered the thick terrycloth. It felt warm to the touch. He remembered Josiah had said he was going to do the laundry for him. He must have just recently taken the bathrobe out of the dryer and put it on the end of the bed.
He slowly stood up and pulled on the robe, thankful for the warmth of the thick terrycloth. He shuffled from his bedroom to the living room, occasionally putting a hand on the wall to keep his balance. He felt a small frisson of trepidation that when he reached the living room Josiah wouldn't be there. He tried to quiet the small, negative voice but wasn't completely successful.
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It didn't take long for Josiah to add what little laundry was in the hamper in the laundry room to the two things Ezra had left in the bathroom and get the wash going. Once that was done, he made a quick call to Chris asking him to bring some Ibuprofen when he came the next day. Once he hung up, he realized there wasn't much for him to do. The laundry was going, and Buck and JD had put away all the groceries.
His stomach grumbled reminding him it was dinner time. He took out the baked chicken dinner he'd found in the grocery store's prepared food section and popped in into the microwave. While it was heating up, he got the newspaper from where he'd seen it in the front hall, put it on the kitchen table, then switched the clothes from the washer to the dryer. The microwave beeped as he finished with that.
By the time he finished eating his dinner, reading the paper from beginning to end, and washing the dishes he'd used, the dryer was just finishing. He folded the few articles of clothing and left them on top of the dryer. The bathrobe he took to Ezra's bedroom. He crept in careful not to wake his friend and put the robe on the foot of the bed. When Ezra shifted and let out a small whimpering sound, he paused to make sure he settled back down. When he didn't hear anything else, he left the bedroom leaving the door ajar and went back to the living room.
He considered turning on the TV but didn't want to take the risk that it would wake Ezra. Instead, he decided to find something to read. Since there was an ample supply of books on the two built in bookcases that flanked the living room fireplace, it was just a matter of finding something that appealed to him. He knew that Ezra's tastes in reading material was varied so he didn't think that would be a problem finding something that interested him. The books were one of the first things of a personal nature that Ezra had unpacked and added to the shelves. As he started perusing the titles, Josiah noticed more personal items that he'd never seen before had joined them. Slowly but surely, Ezra was becoming more secure in his life here in Denver and was starting to add more personal touches to his home.
He was quickly distracted from his quest to find something to read by the little personal bits. Most of the items were framed photos, but they told a story of Ezra's youth that neither Josiah nor the rest of Team Seven knew much about.
He picked up a what looked like a family photo to study it in more detail. The woman was obviously Maude but younger. In her lap sat a boy of no more than two. There was no mistaking the dimpled cheeks and green eyes. Josiah guessed he was looking at a picture of Ezra as a toddler.
The man in the photo caught him by surprise. If he hadn't already guessed the child was Ezra, he would have sworn the man in the photo was him. He guessed that this man must be Ezra's father. It was easy to see which of his parents Ezra favored. The dimpled cheeks, clear green eyes, and slightly curly chestnut hair were a match for his friend.
Ezra rarely spoke of his family and Josiah couldn't remember him ever speaking of his father. He'd always assumed that Ezra hadn't known who he was. The photo was evidence that, at least as a toddler, he'd had a relationship with his father.
Next to the family photo was a wedding picture. There was faint writing on the photo. Josiah picked it up so he could read it better. "Matthew & Maude," it read with a date that he assumed was the date of the wedding. In the photo, Ezra's parents were looking at each with so much love in their eyes. Together with the family photo, it painted a picture that, at least in the early part of Ezra's life, they'd been a happy, loving family.
He put the wedding photo down and picked up the one next to it. Again, he guessed it was Ezra. He was older in this one...around 7 or 8 if Josiah had to guess. He was dressed in a white suit and seated on a couch that was also white. His hands were folded on the upholstered arm of the couch on top of what appeared to be a prayer book. A rosary was clutched in his bottom hand with the antiphon beads and crucifix visible. He saw what looked like the same rosary coiled on the shelf next to where the photo rested. This must be Ezra's First Communion portrait. It had never crossed his mind that his friend was Catholic – not that he gave much thought about what religion Ezra or any of his other friends subscribed to.
Putting the Communion photo down, he moved on to the next. Again, he guessed the child was Ezra. He looked to be about the same age as he was in the Communion photo except this time, instead of a white suit, he was dressed in a monkey costume and holding an orange plastic jack-o-lantern in one hand and the hand of a woman that didn't look like Maude in the other. Looking at the photo carefully, Josiah took note of the woman's clear, green eyes and curly, chestnut hair. She looked as if she was probably related to Ezra on his father's side...perhaps an aunt.
There were a few other photos on the shelves: Ezra's graduation from MIT, leaning on the hood of what Josiah guessed was his first car, and one from the fishing trip they'd all gone on just a few months ago. It had taken some doing, but they'd managed to get Ezra to agree to join the six of them on one of their fishing weekends. After one beer too many when his defenses were down, Ezra admitted it was the first time he'd ever been fishing. When he'd caught a fish, they'd made a big deal of taking a picture of him with it.
The last item of note that drew Josiah's attention was a stuffed bunny rabbit. It had comically large feet, long floppy ears, and green plastic eyes. It looked like it had been much loved. Josiah guessed it was a treasured relic of Ezra's childhood.
"That's Floppy. Da…my father bought it for me when I was born."
Josiah startled when he heard a voice behind him, not expecting Ezra to be awake. "I didn't mean to pry," he said pretending he hadn't noticed Ezra self-edit himself.
"You're not." Ezra dropped heavily onto the couch. "If I didn't want anyone to see any of that, I wouldn't have put it out."
"Maude and your father," Josiah half asked, half stated as he gestured to the first two photos. When Ezra nodded, he pointed to the Halloween one. "Is she an aunt?"
"Aunt Vera. My father's eldest sister," Ezra filled in. "That was the year Daddy passed. I was staying with Aunt Vera while Mother did…something. I was never sure what. She, Aunt Vera that is, always called me her little monkey. She picked out the costume. I don't think Mother had given it much thought and…" he shrugged slightly. "I don't remember much of that time…just being sad. I guess Aunt Vera thought trick or treating might cheer me up."
"I take it it didn't?" He noticed how this time Ezra hadn't self-edited the name he gave to his father.
Again, Ezra shrugged. "As I said I have very little memory of that time." He got up and joined Josiah by the bookshelves. He lightly ran his finger over the rosary beads. "These belonged to him…my father. He was killed a week after that picture was taken…a hit and run. The police never caught the driver. They suspected he or she was probably drunk."
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize."
Again, Ezra shrugged. "I try not to think about it too much."
"You look like him, you know."
Ezra nodded as he gently traced his father's face in the family photo. "I've been told. 'Your daddy's the green in your eyes.' That's what Mother used to tell me." Again, he shrugged. "I could never find him no matter how often I looked."
Josiah knew, like when he was drunk, it was probably only because he was sick that Ezra was letting his defenses down and speaking so freely of his father. When he saw him sway ever so slightly, he put a supporting arm around him and guided him back to the couch. "What are you doing up. I thought you'd be in bed until morning."
For a brief instant, it looked like Ezra was going to say something but then he shook his head and the moment passed. "I felt the need for some human companionship," he said glibly. "And a different view than the four walls in my bedroom. I have a feeling I'm going to be seeing a lot of them over the next days and weeks."
"Well, you need rest so you can start feeling better…and you need nourishment, as well. I got some chicken soup at the deli counter. You think you're up to eating some."
When Ezra didn't answer right away, Josiah thought he was going to refuse. Finally, though he nodded his head slightly. "I think I could eat a bit."
In the end, Ezra managed to eat nearly the whole bowl of chicken soup Josiah warmed up for him. By the time he was finished, he was yawning widely and looked like he was going fall asleep at the kitchen table.
"Go on back to bed," Josiah suggested when he saw him fighting to keep his eyes open and listlessly stirring his spoon in the remaining soup.
"That seems a good idea." Ezra pushed away from the table and slowly stood up. He rubbed his forehead lightly. "Were you able to find any Ibuprofen? My head seems to be pounding a bit more."
Josiah also got up and rested his hand on Ezra's forehead. "Your fever's up a bit, too. Go on back to bed and I'll bring you some."
Nodding in thanks, Ezra made his way slowly back to his bedroom. He was just laying back when Josiah came in with a bottle of Advil and water. He took two of the tablets then settled back against the pillows. He murmured his thanks when Josiah tucked the covers over him. He was asleep almost as soon as the light was off, and he was alone in his room.
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Once more he was alone on in a rowboat on a vast body of water. Once more, the bright sunny day turned to dark clouds and heavy waves rocked the boat. Again, he helplessly watched as his friends appeared in the water, calling, and yelling for him to help. Even thought he knew it would be in vain, repeatedly he tried to reach them.
There was a difference this time, though. Instead of the voices dying away and his friends disappearing one by one, with a great roar, fire swept over the water. The agonized cries of his friends rang in his ears as their lives were snuffed out as if they'd never existed. As quick as it came, the fire disappeared, the sun came back out, and the water calmed.
And then there were voices again. The voices of his friends. "It's your fault," they whispered. "You failed. We trusted you and let us down."
"I tried," he cried out. "I tried."
"Alone," they chanted. "You'll always be alone."
"No!" he shouted. Over and over, he kept calling out, "Don't leave me. Come back." But they were gone, and he was alone once more.