Chapter 25
A shadow fell across Johnny's face as he watched his friends file out of his room. His face was still cloudy when he turned his attention to Iris and Lily. He struggled to find his voice, coughing into his closed fist to clear his throat. "Ahua, um... I... I really don't remember... seein'... any of that," he said, shaking his head and picking at the tape Roy had pressed a little too tightly along the back of his hand. Even though he trusted Lieutenant Crockett, he was having a hard time believing that Father Mitchell had also been a victim of murder on that damp and foggy morning.
"I know," Iris crooned, sitting down on the bed beside him. "I know what Beverly said, and... I've heard that our brains have a way of protecting us from painful things, sometimes." She reached out, using the tips of her fingers to brush his shaggy bangs away from his drooping eyes. "What happened in Selma... It was painful for all of us," she said, looking over at her daughter who was still sitting in her wheelchair, silently staring at her hands that were folded in her lap.
"So you... think I should... do it, huh?" Johnny asked, already knowing the answer.
Iris picked her words carefully, not wanting to alienate him further. "I can't answer that, John."
"Iris... I'm sorry... I should've... told you that... that I couldn't really remember what I saw that day," Johnny sniffled.
"No... You don't owe me any apologies. It was a long time ago, and it was a very... tough time in our lives... difficult for the whole nation to see," she added, remembering the black and white news footage of the Alabama State Troopers confronting the marchers at the south end of the bridge.
Johnny reached out, grasping her hand. When she looked up at him, she saw his eyes welling up with tears. Iris lost control of her emotions. She reached out for him, pulling him into a motherly embrace. "Oh, Johnny... Thank you for... bringing Lily home," she said, rubbing soothing circles along his upper back. His ragged breathing nearly ripped her heart out of her chest. She had assumed he would be emotional, but she hadn't expected this reaction. "Please follow Hank's advice," she pleaded. "Take some time off to get your life back in order before you make a decision about your job."
"I can't afford to take time off," he responded, pulling back away from her. "I've got to... start over; just like I did ten years ago. I've got nothin', and I... I need my job back, now. I guess I can do it a little longer until I... Well, until I figure out what to do," he said, dropping his gaze to the floor. He felt just as lost today as he had felt after Phillip's death. He didn't know how the rest of the men in the department would treat him when they found out about his past. But he knew he would simply have to deal with it until he could find another job... Maybe even in another city. "I just hope I can... pass the physical."
Iris knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. "Start over?" Then understanding dawned on her face. She reached out, placing both hands on his thin shoulders. "No, sweetheart. The only thing you asked me to do that I actually DID was give Ron the film."
"Huh? Wait... You mean..."
"Yes... You still have your apartment, your Rover, AND all your money. And since Hank didn't accept your resignation, you're still a paramedic at Station 51, too."
Johnny stared at her in disbelief, his chin dropping slightly. He looked at Iris with more respect and love than he had ever felt before, his face twitching from the news he had just heard.
"John... You still have it all," Iris said, a smile spreading across her face.
Johnny's shimmering eyes shifted past Iris' face, staring at Lily who seemed to be slumping in her wheelchair. His countenance fell as he looked at the frail young woman. "No... Not everything."
Iris knew what he was thinking, but she didn't speak. She just hoped that Johnny and Lily would talk things out very soon. She could see the love they had for each other, even if they couldn't see it through the fog of stress they had recently endured.
Johnny shifted his chocolate eyes back to Iris. "Would you mind if... If I talked to her... alone?" He asked, nodding in Lily's direction.
Iris slowly smiled. "Of course not. Take your time," she said, standing. She walked past Lily, patting her lightly on her shoulder. "I'll wait outside with the others."
When the door closed behind Iris, Johnny stared at Lily waiting for her to look at him. When she didn't, he decided to speak up, anyway. "Lily?"
Lily sniffled, but didn't move. "Yes?"
"We need to talk."
She swept her fingers across the dark circles beneath her eyes. "I didn't know, Johnny. I swear, I didn't know what was in that urn. All I... was trying to do... was relax you a little more so...," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "So your friends could... take you easier. I was... I was afraid of what... might happen if you knew..."
"I hear it was a close call. I, uh... I stopped breathin'," he stated softly. He watched as her shoulders began to shake. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"No...," she hiccuped. "You're right... I messed up."
"Lily, I won't lie to you. I'm upset about some things that've happened. I mean, you lied to me to get me to join The Family. Then you didn't trust me to... to help you take down Gardner..."
"I'm so sor-sorry..." She looked up at him, questioningly. "Wait... It had nothing to do... with me not trusting you. Johnny... It... James and Ian... and me, we all had to... keep it a secret. If anybody overheard you and me talking... then... Oh God, Johnny, they KILLED other people for just trying to leave. They... they would've killed the three of us... and you... if they found out what we were trying to do. Please... Please try to understand why I couldn't tell you. I wanted to... And I came close a couple of times, but... we just couldn't risk it."
"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Lily. I run into burnin' buildings for a livin'. I can handle myself, a'right?"
"You're trained to do that... You're a fireman, but... but you're not a cop." She stared at him for a long moment, seeing him contort his face to stop his tears. "I do trust you, Johnny, but... It's just that..."
"It was a dangerous thing you did, Lily."
"I know... but it... had to be done, you know? I mean... I...," she sighed, unable to say what was really on her mind.
"I know," he said, feeling as if a huge weight was pressing on his chest. He knew what she was trying to say. It was the same thing he wanted to say, but couldn't. "I... I, um..."
"I hope that... one day you can... forgive me. I... I lo-love you, J-Johnny."
Now it was Johnny's turn to sniffle, swallowing past the constriction in his throat. "I... I love you... too," he finally managed to say, his own tears spilling hot onto his cheeks.
Lily placed her palms on the arms of the wheelchair, pushing herself up. Slowly she stepped closer to his bed, still feeling unsure of herself. Carefully, she sat down next to him. "I'd... really like to... start over... maybe?"
He inhaled deeply. If he was being truthful with himself, it was what he wanted, too. He slowly reached his hand out, covering her smaller, softer one. When she turned her hand over, gripping his hand tightly, he felt a sense of relief. "Yea... I'd like that too, but... I need to, ah, I need to ask you one more thing."
"Okay," she said, biting her lower lip. She had no idea what he was about to ask, or how her answer might affect their future.
"Why'd you leave us? Your mom loves you so much, Lily. You broke her heart... Mine, too."
She cut her eyes down to her lap. The regret for her actions when she was younger feeling like a millstone around her neck. He deserved an answer and if they had any chance of starting over, then she had to be truthful with him. "She lied to me. She told me that my grandparents... her parents... were dead." Lily looked up into Johnny's deep brown eyes. Had he known the truth?
"Oh."
Lily dropped her eyes to her lap. "My cousin came out here to go to college. She came over to visit us... I'd never even met her, you know?" She curled a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "But... she told me the reason my parents left Alabama was because... they couldn't get married there back then... and... my maternal grandparents wouldn't accept my dad... which meant... they wouldn't accept me. Mom lied about that all those years, John."
"She was protecting you."
"I understand that now, but... well, you were at the Fire Academy, and I really didn't have any friends to talk to... So when I saw the people of The Unity Family selling flowers on a corner one day... I talked to them. They offered me something that... that my own family... my own flesh and blood had refused to offer me."
"Love and acceptance, right?"
"Yes... even though I was different, they didn't care." She wiped a tear from her face.
"You could've written me a letter, or called me."
She curled her hair behind her ear. "John… They wouldn't let me. I mean, they didn't want me to have any contact with anyone from my previous life… you know that, right?"
"Yea…," he muttered, remembering how closely he had been watched when he had first agreed to join.
Her lips began to tremble. "My maternal family hated me before I was ever born. How... how can people hate their own family without ever even meeting them?" she cried out.
"Because of prejudice. THEY have the problem, not you, Lily," he said, feeling compassion for her. He knew how it felt to be half of two things, but not feel whole. "Your mother... she did the same thing for you that... that you were trying to do for me, right?"
"What?"
"She hid the truth from you to protect you... That was out of love, Lily."
She looked up into his handsome face.
This time, he offered her a slight smile. "I get that, now."
"Me, too," she said weakly, thinking about the renewal of her relationship with her mother. However, there was another relationship she wanted to renew, too. "So can we? Start over, I mean? I'll never lie to you, or keep anything from you ever again. I promise, Johnny."
"Yea... but, let's take it slow... 'kay?" Recent events were going to take time to process and work through. He knew he loved her, and that she loved him, but there were issues they both needed to work on before they would truly be free to pursue a relationship.
Silence filled the room for a long moment. Johnny could hear his heartbeat rushing in his ears. He gulped, then licked his lips, nervously. He had made up his mind; he knew what he had to do. "Will you... go to Selma... with me?"
Unable to speak, Lily merely nodded her agreement, then lunged forward, embracing him. It was exactly what Johnny needed. He wrapped his arms around her, clutching handfuls of her hair in his fists as he pulled her tighter. He inhaled her scent, the faint scent of lavender that had always permeated Iris' home. He thought it odd until he realized that she was wearing a dress that Iris must have brought with her. As she melted against his chest, he memorized the feel of her in his arms. It would take time and work to re-establish their relationship, but he knew without a doubt that he had already forgiven her... and he never wanted to let her go.
Johnny wasn't sure how long they had been holding each other, but when she pulled away, he felt the emptiness in his arms. For the first time in a long while, he saw the hint of a smile cross her pale features.
"Let's go home, Johnny."
"So... no more Thorn?" he asked, using his thumb to wipe away a tear as it coursed down her face.
She puckered her lips, lightly touching them to his hand. She shook her head. "No... Let's leave Thorn back at the compound."
Johnny gave her a gentle smile, nodding his agreement.
"I'll get Roy to help you get dressed," she said, standing up slowly. She stepped behind the wheelchair, using it like a walker as she pushed it towards the door.
In the hallway, Roy saw the door to Johnny's room open.
"He's ready to get dressed now," Lily reported, leaving the wheelchair beside the door inside the room.
Everyone noticed that she was walking and that she had more color in her cheeks than she had before her private conversation with Johnny, a sure sign that the talk had gone well.
Roy smiled in spite of his fatigue. He walked into the room, seeing his partner sitting up in his bed, scratching his chin.
"Itches doesn't it?" the red-haired paramedic said with a soft chuckle. "I'll get you a razor as soon as we get home. Joanne's got the spare room ready for you, and you know what Jo does when you're sick or injured, don't you?"
"Yea... Maybe by the time we get back to LA, I'll have my appetite back."
"Exactly... She'll give you back those pounds you look like you've lost. By the time you go for medical clearance at Rampart, you'll be able to step on the scales and pass with no problem."
"True."
Roy smiled; they both knew Joanne's tendencies, and they both loved her for them. "Dr. Buchanan said you can leave as long as you not alone the rest of the day... Okay?"
Johnny gave a soft snort, nodding his agreement. "Figured as much."
"So, no argument? No Johnny rant?" Roy questioned, reaching for the folded clothing in the chair.
"Not this time... pally. Not this time." Johnny was drained, physically and emotionally, so he had neither the energy, nor the desire to argue.
"Ready to get dressed?" Roy asked, unfolding the scrub set, then reaching for the bag containing Johnny's sandals. When he got no answer, he turned around to see Johnny staring into the air between them. "Johnny?"
Johnny gulped, whispering his words past the lump in his throat. "Roy... I jus'..."
Roy walked over to the bed where Johnny was perched on the edge with his bare feet on the cold tile floor. He placed a comforting hand on his partner's shoulder. "Yea?"
Johnny blinked his eyes rapidly, unwilling to shed any more tears, even with his best friend. He already felt like the weakest man on his shift; he didn't want to do anything to make him seem even weaker. "I wanna... do the right thing, ya know?"
"I know. And I know you... You will, Johnny. We're all here for you... supporting you. And Chet was right," Roy said with a wistful smile. "We never leave a brother behind," he said squeezing Johnny's shoulder.
"If... If you fellas are right, and I'm not sayin' that you are, but if you're right...," he inhaled deeply, unsure of how to say what he was thinking.
Roy waited, allowing his friend the time he needed to give words to his thoughts. It took a few moments, but while Roy was quietly assisting him with getting dressed, Johnny finally spoke.
"Why does it feel like... like no matter what I do, it's... never enough?"
Roy knelt down in front of his partner, slipping his sandals on his feet, knowing that if Johnny leaned over, he would likely feel dizzy again. He thought about what Johnny had asked him. When Roy got up off of his knees, he sat down in the chair across from Johnny.
"I know this may sound... patronizing, but... Back in Selma, you weren't physically injured, and I agree with Beverly that you have emotional scars; anybody in your situation would. But... I think it's more than that. Johnny, you have such strong beliefs. I've seen you risking your life, on multiple occasions, putting other people's lives before your own. And it's even more than that. You... You put the needs of others before your own..." Roy held up his hand to stop Johnny's rebuttal. "I know, we all do that because it's a part of the job, but… Sometimes, you even put the WANTS of others ahead of your own NEEDS. You're one of the most giving and selfless people I've ever met."
Johnny hung his head, feeling uncomfortable with Roy's accolades.
Roy saw that he was reaching some dark corner of Johnny's heart, so he continued. "That's not a weakness at all. In fact, it's just the opposite. It's a strength, a tremendous strength, and it led you to dedicate your life to others by being a rescue man. And I'm... I'm glad that you came into the paramedic recruiting office that day. You helped make paramedicine a real profession. If it weren't for you... I don't know if Brackett would've ever accepted us. We're here because of you."
"Naw... Roy, that was all you. You know that. I jus'..." Johnny paused, shaking his head, unable to find his voice.
"Okay, maybe it was both of us... We're a team, Junior."
Johnny snorted, allowing a hint of his trademark grin to sprawl across his face. "I owe you... an apology for..."
Roy held up his hand. "If you're talking about the fight at your apartment, don't. We'll talk about that later, okay?"
Johnny tiredly nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, what I'm trying to tell you is... I believe it was your morals that were injured that morning. You believe, truly believe with your heart and soul, that you were born to help others when they're in trouble. That morning, you couldn't. COULDN'T, Johnny, not that you chose not to. You had no choice, but because of your beliefs... Because of who you are... Your spirit was injured. And you've been trying to overcome that... overcompensating by being the first to jump into dangerous situations, like you're trying to pay some penance." Roy shook his head.
Johnny pressed his lips together, clenching his teeth and forcing back the tears. It made perfect sense to him. Roy was exactly right.
"And... Johnny, you're good... damn good... at your job. I think your... cockiness... is just an act... And you're ... intelligent, and yet, you sometimes... act like you aren't. I mean, it's like you... you don't want the rest of us to know what we already know. I don't know, maybe I'm not making any sense."
Johnny didn't respond audibly, but his left cheek lifted a little when Roy accused him of being cocky. His partner had hit the proverbial nail on the head – most of Johnny's adult life had been one long act.
The silence in the room was permeated by a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," Roy said, realizing that Johnny was busy rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"Got your walking papers," Hank said, holding up the yellow discharge instruction sheet.
Following Hank, the rest of the crew walked into the room. Ron and the ladies remained in the hallway to give the shiftmates a few minutes alone with Johnny.
"Thanks, Cap," Johnny said, rubbing the collar of the scrub shirt up to wipe his upper lip. He could still feel beads of perspiration popping out on his head and raked his arm across his forehead.
"We'll use Lily's wheelchair; she seems to be doing fine without it," Chet commented.
The Irishman pushed the wheelchair over to the bed, locking the brakes. Roy reached for one arm while Mike held the other, and together they helped Johnny transfer from the bed to the chair.
Johnny sat back, propping his elbows on the arm rests of the wheelchair, gazing at the floor. When the wheelchair didn't move, he looked up. Staring at him were the tired eyes of his five coworkers. His own eyes darted from one haggard face to the other, searching for an answer as to why no one seemed to be heading for the door.
"Somethin' wrong?"
Hank lifted his eyebrows into his hairline, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while he propped the other on his hip. "I've been thinking about something you said, John."
"What?" the confused paramedic asked. He was exhausted from his experience and from the emotional releases he had been enduring. Now he just wanted to go home and rest.
"About feeling like a moth caught in a spider's web."
"Ugh," Johnny groaned. "It was jus' an analogy, Cap. I'm not... I know what you're gonna ask me... and the answer is no... No, I didn't really want to join that cult. I just wanted to get Lily out. No, I'm not suicidal... No, I'm not homicidal... and... No, I don't need to see a... Okay, maybe I DO need to see a shrink," he mumbled.
"Well, that's all good to know, John, but that wasn't what I was going to say."
"Huh?"
"I do think you should see someone, and I highly recommend Dr. Robertson. He helped me... a lot... Saved my marriage. I'll get you his number," Hank said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed that Johnny had just vacated so that he was on the same level as his junior medic. His height could sometimes be intimidating, and he often had to use it to exert his authority, particularly with his junior men, but this was not one of those times.
"John... This spider's web you feel caught in... I want you to know that... it isn't a spider's web. In fact, it's neither a web, nor a trap of any kind."
"Then... what is it?" Johnny asked, his voice cracking. Captain Stanley's sincerity and nearness made him feel both uncomfortable, and yet, somehow safe.
"It's so much stronger than a spider's web. John, we," he began, waving his arm around the room, "didn't come here to trap you. We came here to link our arms together in unity. We came with a bond that the jaws of life can't break. What you're feeling isn't a spider's web to ensnare you... It's a human safety net... OUR safety net... and we're here to catch you."
Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding his understanding and appreciation, knowing that what Hank said was absolutely the truth. The men from A-shift at Station 51 were a close-knit brotherhood and always would be, no matter what changes the future might bring.
The entourage made their way out the door of the hospital room. Johnny sat in the wheelchair, feeling helpless as Roy pushed him through the hospital corridor towards the emergency entrance. The group dispersed into the three awaiting vehicles. Marco and Beverly climbed into Chet's van. Hank and Mike agreed to drive Crockett's car back to Los Angeles so the detective could drive Iris' car for her, so she could pay more attention to reconnecting with her daughter. That left Johnny and Roy trying to decide which vehicle would be best for them.
"Roy... I can't ride back with Iris... Not right now," Johnny groaned as they reached the automatic glass doors that opened into the parking lot. "She needs time with Lily... They have a lot of catchin' up to do."
"No problem... We'll ride with Mike and Cap," Roy said, pushing his partner towards the gold colored sedan. He locked the brakes on the wheelchair while Hank stood by, just in case Johnny was still a little woozy.
"Watch your head, John," Hank said.
"Got it," Johnny responded, folding up his lanky body as he got into the back seat.
The caravan waited for Roy to return the wheelchair, then take his seat behind Mike.
"Humph, I'm not used to sitting in the jump seats, anymore," Roy kidded, trying to lighten the somber mood.
"Obviously," Mike joked, "because you're sitting in them backwards."
The four men chuckled as Mike pulled into traffic for the long ride home.
"Johnny, let me know when you need to make a pit stop," Mike snickered. "You've had a lot more fluid than the rest of us." Mike looked into the rearview mirror, concerned by the lack of expression on his friend's face.
"A'right," was the only remark Johnny made.
Johnny was completely exhausted, both mentally and physically. He felt as if he had been stripped of all his dignity; his darkest secret had been exposed, and yet, his coworkers seemed to still care about him. As the miles ticked off on the odometer, he stared out the window. The methodical rhythm of the tires on the asphalt coupled with the droning of the voices of the other three men, lulled him into an almost hypnotic state. His eyelids became heavy and he leaned his head against the back of the seat, his mind carrying him over 2,000 miles into the past. Why couldn't he remember seeing Father Mitchell on the banks of the river that day? Was Beverly right? Was his own brain protecting him, somehow? If so, how could he make it stop? How could he regain the memory that had been taken from him? Did he really want to?
Johnny kept his eyelids at half-mast, staring at the ceiling of the car as the others carried on a conversation around him. He could hear their voices, but he paid no attention to what they there saying. He didn't want to be a part of the conversation. Over and over again, he imagined what William Waite's trial would be like. Each time the defense attorney asked him a question, his mind went blank and he was left stuttering like a liar on the witness stand. He thought about the smug expression he would see on Waite's face when the jury returned with a 'not guilty' verdict. He could envision the despair on the faces of Iris and Lily, knowing that he had failed to bring justice to the Campbell family. And then there was Kizzy. Her anguished cries would haunt his dreams. He needed to be able to provide her with some type of closure. He needed to help the prosecution win the case. He couldn't bear to hear her wails of grief, if the man who was primarily responsible for her son's death was able to walk away a free man.
Roy exchanged a look with Mike in the rearview mirror. They had reached the halfway point in their journey home, but when Mike had asked Johnny if he needed to stop, he got no response. Roy reached out, barely touching Johnny to bring him out of his musings.
"Hey, Joh-"
"WHA-huh?" Johnny cried out, his entire body jumping when he felt the back of Roy's hand tap his upper arm.
Roy chose not to make a big deal out of Johnny's hyperarousal. "We're stopping at a gas station in about a mile. We all need a break," Roy added.
"Oh... 'kay," Johnny responded, his face devoid of emotion.
Mike led the small caravan into the dusty parking lot of the rural gas station. He waited for Iris' car to pull into the spot beside the place where he had parked, then stepped out of the car. In the backseat, Iris was slowly moving her hand back and forth in her lap. A closer inspection revealed that Lily was lying with her head on her mother's thigh, fast asleep, while Iris continually stroked her daughter's hair. He smiled at Iris when she looked over at him. He saw her quickly jerk her head towards the backseat of Crockett's car and knew that she was silently asking how Johnny was doing. Mike gave her a slow nod of his head along with a sad look. From what he had observed of the trip so far, Johnny was not doing well, at all.
Inside the gas station, Roy's nostrils were assaulted by the mixture of gasoline vapors and the scent of grease. He accepted the bathroom key from the dirty hand of the gas station attendant, then headed for the small bathroom on the side of the building with Johnny walking rather slowly beside him. He didn't want his partner to feel like a child who needed adult supervision, but he really had no choice. He had told Dr. Buchanan that he wouldn't leave Johnny alone for the next 24 hours, just in case Johnny needed him. The last thing he wanted was for Johnny to fall in the restroom, blocking the door.
"You know I'm house-broken, right, Roy?"
Roy didn't really like the way Johnny was joking around at the moment, but he assumed that it was his way of letting Roy know that he didn't need his help.
"I know... I have to go, too," Roy replied, passing the key over to his partner. "You first."
"I'm good... You've had coffee, I've just had some D5W," Johnny stated, holding up his hands with his palms out.
Roy was already feeling a sense of urgency. "Thanks," he said, unlocking the door.
A few moments later, Roy emerged, holding open the door for Johnny. "I'll wait for you."
"You can return the key and wait in the car... I'm feeling fine now... steady on my feet," he said, shutting and locking the door.
After relieving himself, Johnny washed his hands, then stared into the cracked mirror above the sink. He almost didn't recognize the face looking back at him. It wasn't just the longer hair and beard. It was the fragmented reflection from the broken glass. He stared at himself for several long moments, wondering how easy it would be to remove one of the shards. He thought about Beverly's scars, wondering how painful the cut on her neck had been. Her assailant had missed the jugular by millimeters. Had he nicked it, she would have bled out in minutes, no matter how hard the off-duty firefighter had tried to save her. Johnny thought about the five firemen waiting on him in the parking lot. Just a few millimeters deeper... Just a quick slice... The discomfort of the cut would be far less than the pain he had been enduring for the last decade. He ran his finger along the rough edges of the glass. He could endure physical pain; it was a frequent part of the job, at least for him. It was the emotional pain that was so difficult...
"C'mon, Gage... Hurry up...," Chet said, banging loudly on the door. He wasn't in a hurry, but he did want to know that his friend was alright.
Startled, Johnny exhaled deeply, trying to force his excited heart to calm down. He splashed a little cool water on his face, patted it dry with a paper towel then opened the door.
"All yours," Johnny said, walking past Chet who was bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Johnny walked slowly over to the place where the car was parked, pushing his dark thoughts back into their hiding place. He painted on a face that looked more pleasant than he felt. He didn't want the others to know just how dark his thoughts were becoming. If he had any hope of going back to work, even at another station, he knew he couldn't tell anyone, not even Dr. Robertson. Shake it off, Gage, he chided himself. Man up!
E!
Joanne was cleaning up the breakfast dishes, allowing Corrie to stand in a chair in front of the sink to 'help' her, when the telephone rang.
"DeSoto residence."
"Hey, baby."
"Roy, are you on your way home?"
"Yea, we'll be there in about an hour or so," he said.
"How are they doing?" she asked, holding the phone in the crook of her neck as she helped Corrie down from the chair. "Go watch television for a few minutes while Jo-Jo talks to Uncle Roy, okay?" she instructed, placing her hand on the little girl's back, directing her towards the living room.
Roy waited a moment before answering, knowing that his wife had her hands full with her babysitting job. "Ah, I really don't know how to answer that... Lily seems to be improving, but... Johnny's... lost."
"Lost?"
"I can't explain it, Jo. He's..."
"Depressed?"
"Maybe... I'm not..., uh, here he comes," he said, rushing her off the phone.
"Tell him I'll have homemade potato soup and grilled ham sandwiches ready when he gets here."
"Okay... I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you, too."
Joanne hung up the phone, peeking into the living room to make sure that Corrie was alright, then set about peeling the potatoes and carrots for the soup. Realizing she had more than enough vegetables, she decided to make enough for Iris and Lily, too. As she prepared the soup, she considered how she might feel if she were in Iris' shoes. How would she manage going about her daily activities the way Iris had, if it were Jennifer who had joined a cult. She lifted her apron, wiping an errant tear from her cheek. She hoped she would never know how it felt to lose contact with her children.
She also knew that Iris wasn't the only parent missing a child in this situation. Although she had never met Johnny's parents, she felt nothing but heartache for them. Did they have any idea why Johnny had put so much distance between them? Would they be able to renew their relationship, now that the threat of the Ku Klux Klan had passed? She knew that Johnny had a very forgiving spirit, but did his parents?
Joanne pushed the worrisome thoughts from her mind and continued with the task at hand. She scraped the peeling off the carrots, enjoying the fresh scent the action created. Plans for Johnny reuniting with his parents would have to wait. Because from what Roy had told her, and what she had learned about the entire ordeal, Johnny needed to work on himself first. "Oh, Johnny...," she mused, washing the vegetables and dicing them as she dropped them into a stock pot to simmer. "Maybe we don't know you as well as we think."
E!
By the time Mike pulled into the DeSoto driveway, the long drive was beginning to lull Johnny to sleep.
"We're home," Roy said, tapping the drowsy man on his leg.
"Hmm? Oh, yea," Johnny mumbled, reaching for the door.
"Let me give you a hand, John," Hank said, stepping out of the vehicle.
"I got it, Cap," Johnny said, opening the door and enjoying the feel of the warm autumn sun shining on his face as he stood up under his own power.
Joanne stood in the doorway, noting that Mike was driving Crockett's car. A plan suddenly formulated in her mind. She looked over her shoulder, ensuring that Corrie was playing with her dolls on the living room floor, then walked out to greet the men.
Joanne nearly gasped at the sight of the man she loved like a brother as he emerged from the backseat of the car, looking like a homeless man. "Johnny," she said, hugging him. "Soup's on… And your room is ready."
"Thanks, Jo," he replied, forlornly.
She locked eyes with Roy, briefly, noting that he seemed worried and tired. She offered him a faint smile then turned her attention to Hank and Mike.
"Are you hungry? I've got plenty," she explained, pointing towards the house.
"If I eat now, I'll fall asleep on the drive home," Mike kidded.
"Not that we don't enjoy your cooking, Joanne," Hank added, not wanting to offend her.
"Oh, I understand. Um, this is Ron's car, right?" she asked, thinking she understood why Mike was driving it.
"Yes, he drove Iris and Lily home in Iris' car," Roy explained.
"We're heading over there now to pick him up. Then he'll take us home," Hank explained.
"Well, will you take them some soup? I made enough to feed an army, and this way Iris won't have to cook. She can spend her time with Lily, instead."
"Of course," Mike said, appreciating Joanne's generosity. He loved his 51 family and the way they pulled together to help each other out. He knew that the support would be good for Johnny, too.
The group made their way into the house, inhaling the delicious aroma of the simmering potato soup where Joanne set about pouring into plastic containers. She had grated cheese which she placed into a plastic sandwich bag to be added to the soup when it was served.
"Mmmm," Roy said, inhaling deeply, his mouth watering.
When Corrie heard the men talking, she rushed into the kitchen. "Unca Roy!"
"Hello, Corrie."
Corrie gave Roy a hug, then moved to each of the other men, giving them the same greeting. One man was conspicuously absent and the little girl scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. "Where's Mizzer Phet?"
Roy took a seat at the kitchen table, lifting the little girl onto his lap. "Mr. Chet is taking Antonio's Uncle Marco home."
"Oh," she said, her round face forming a pout. Roy ran his hand down her light brown hair. "I'm sure you'll see him after your mommy picks you up this afternoon." He smiled at the little girl, thinking about how different Chet's life would be if the child hadn't survived the car accident two years ago.
Johnny took a seat, in his usual spot, at the DeSoto table. As soon as Joanne had packed up the containers of soup and escorted Mike and Hank out the door, she returned to the kitchen.
"So, are you boys ready to eat lunch?"
"It smells delicious," Johnny said, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm for Joanne's cooking, "But I think I'd like to take a shower first... and shave," he said, scratching his chin.
"You are looking a little wooly," Joanne kidded, reaching out to touch his whiskers.
Johnny looked slightly embarrassed. "Yea."
Roy set Corrie down, standing up as the little girl skipped back into the living room to resume playing with her dolls.
"I'll get you a razor," Roy explained, heading down the hallway towards the master bedroom.
"I've got fresh sheets on your bed," Joanne explained, opening a loaf of bread. When Johnny didn't respond, she looked over at him. "I'm glad you're back."
Johnny looked up suddenly, unsure of what she had said. "Oh, um, did you say somethin'?"
Joanne smiled at him, not wanting him to see how worried she felt. She knew now what Roy meant when he said that Johnny was lost. She could see it too. "I said that I'm glad you're back home."
"Oh... yea, thanks," he replied softly, looking down the hallway when he heard Roy approaching.
"Here you go," Roy said, handing the disposable razor to his friend. "Everything else is where it was the last time you were here," he said, hoping his partner was feeling welcome.
"I appreciate it," Johnny commented, turning to walk down the hallway, "I appreciate everything, Roy... Jo, I can't wait to eat some o' that soup," he added, turning quickly and disappearing down the hallway.
Roy turned his attention to Joanne, noting the sad smile that crossed her face. As soon as the guest bathroom door closed, she spoke up.
"I see what you mean... He isn't the same person, is he?"
"Not right now," Roy answered, stepping around the kitchen bar to embrace his wife. "But we're going to get him back...," he whispered, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. He thought about how close he had come to losing her and he pulled her even tighter, never wanting to let her go. "We've got to."
Joanne ran her hands across his muscular back, feeling the tension in his muscles. She hoped that tonight, he would let her massage away the tightness, but for now, she knew that he needed her support and encouragement as much as her touch. "We will, Roy," she said, pulling back to look into his blue eyes. "With so many of us pulling for him... We'll get him back."
E!
Marco nudged Beverly who lay sleeping against his shoulder. "Hey, baby? We're at my place."
"Hmm," she moaned, rubbing her eyes. As his apartment came into focus, she responded. "Oh."
"Why don't you stay here with me? I'll fix something light for lunch and we can nap all afternoon. I'll take you home this evening," he suggested, wanting to spend more time with her.
Beverly raised her arms above her head, the feeling of stretching her aching shoulders and back creating a sense of relief. "Ohhh," she yawned. "Sounds good... to me."
"Chet, you okay to drive home, amigo?" Marco asked, opening up the back door of the van.
"Oh, yea, yea... I'm fine. I caught a couple of naps in the waiting room," he said, twisting his wrist to look at his watch. "I've got time to take a nap before Caroline and Corrie get home."
"Alright, be careful," Marco said, crawling out of the van and offering his arm to Beverly. "See you next shift."
"Bye," Chet said, offering a wave to his friends. He smiled when he saw Marco wrapping his arm around Beverly's waist as the two made their way up the sidewalk. He shifted his van into reverse. He couldn't wait to spend some quality time with his own special lady.
E!
The ride home had been a quiet one for Iris and Crockett. Neither one wanted to disturb Lily's peaceful slumber. When Ron turned onto Iris' street, she decided it was time to wake her daughter.
"Lily?" she said, gently nudging the sleeping young woman. "We're home."
Lily awoke with a start, looking around the interior of the car to regain her bearings. Her wild eyes found Iris' face and immediately she relaxed. She hadn't been dreaming; she really was back with her mother.
"We're home, sweetheart," Iris repeated.
"That's right. Curbside service," Crockett announced, turning into Iris' driveway.
Lily sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She swallowed hard, fighting her emotions at the sight of her home she hadn't seen for so long.
"I'm... home," she whispered to herself as the car came to a stop.
The trio exited the vehicle, walking up the sidewalk to the front door. Crockett felt like an intruder on this private moment between the Campbell ladies, but he had nowhere else to go at the moment. He had to wait for Mike and Hank to bring him his car. He took a seat on the sofa while Lily meandered around the home, reconnecting with her former life.
"Your room is just the way you left it. I haven't changed a thing," Iris said, following as Lily walked slowly down the dimly lit hallway to the bedrooms.
As soon as Lily opened the door, she felt her heart skip a beat. Her mother was right; it was exactly the way she left it. Her mint green and pink bedspread was still spread across the double bed. The ragdoll she had slept with as a little girl lay nestled between the two fluffy pillows. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with emotions. She sat down on her bed, her shoulders heaving as she sobbed. She felt the bed sink beside her and knew that her mother was sitting down too. She felt warm familiar arms enveloping her and she sank into their safety and comfort.
"I'm so sorry, Momma."
"Sshhh, it's over now, sweetheart. You're home... John's home... All is well."
"How can you e-ever for-give me?" she gasped in a ragged breath.
"Easily... You're my baby girl, and like I said... there's nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you." Iris pulled her daughter away from her slightly, cupping her face with both hands. "I'll say this because YOU need to hear it, not because it's necessary for me. Lily... I forgive you. I love you. Now you can let that remorse go and... and live again."
Unable to speak, Lily merely nodded her agreement, then returned her head to her mother's bosom. She was truly home and she never wanted to leave again.
"Ahem," Crockett said, clearing his throat to announce his presence. "My ride is here."
"Oh," Iris said, looking up at the man she had grown so fond of.
"Ah, Joanne sent you some soup so you wouldn't have to cook lunch. It's on the kitchen counter, still warm."
"Um, aren't you hungry? Won't you stay and eat it with us?" Iris asked.
Appreciating the gesture, Crockett knew he needed to decline. As much as he wanted to spend time with Iris, she and Lily needed time alone and he knew it. "Thank you, but I need to get Hank and Mike back home now," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the living room.
"Oh... yea... I forgot they had your car."
"If you two need anything... day or night... call me, okay?" he said, reminding them that he was there for them.
"We will," Iris said, stroking her daughter's hair. "Thank you, Ron."
"You're welcome," he said with a smile. He took a step backwards, not wanting to break eye contact with her, when suddenly Lily bolted to him, wrapping her thin arms around his torso.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Crockett. Thank you for everything," she wept.
Crockett covered her with his arms, lightly kissing the top of her head. "You're welcome, sweetie, and it's Ron, okay?" he suggested, looking at Iris and noting that she, too, was weeping. "What is it about women and tears," he groaned, jokingly, grinning as he rolled his eyes.
The three of them snickered at his comedic injection. "It's just... what we do," Lily explained, chuckling as she ran her fingers beneath her swollen eyes. She appreciated the change in the emotional atmosphere.
"And I love you, anyway," he replied, laughing as he pulled her close once more.
Iris joined them in the hallway, appreciating the quick hug she received from Crockett, as well. She walked him to the door as Lily stepped into the kitchen.
"Do you mind if I... call you later? I just want to know that you two are okay," the nervous lieutenant explained.
Iris felt a warmth wash over her being. "I'd appreciate that. Call me anytime. Maybe... maybe you could join us for dinner one night," she suggested.
"Sounds good."
They both lingered a moment longer, looking into each other's eyes. Mike and Hank stood patiently, both men leaning their hips against the hood of Crockett's car. They exchanged knowing looks then peeled away, getting into the car to wait for the lieutenant.
E!
As the shadows of the day began to grow longer on the dark wood-grained paneling, Johnny lay sleeping in the guest room at the DeSotos' home. It was a familiar place to him; the drawers held a few of his personal items and several changes of clothing for those times when he had to stay over. Occasionally, after a hectic shift, he and Roy would spend time together to decompress. If there had been a particularly bad run, the two might imbibe in a little too much beer, and Johnny would stay over to sleep it off. Then there were the times when he would get injured and need a little assistance for a couple of days. More than once, Joanne had been called to Rampart to pick him up, after a mishap earned him paid leave to recuperate.
This afternoon, the DeSotos' were once again caring for him, but this time it was different. He wasn't injured, or inebriated. However, he was sick. A light sheen of sweat had popped out along his clean-shaven face and neck. His eyes darted back and forth beneath his closed eyelids as he was caught in the middle of a nightmare. His breathing quickened as his sleep-paralyzed body tried to escape the torment. Inside his dream world, Johnny was running, trying desperately to reach the riverbank before William Waite's pick-up truck pulled away from the two people tied up with nooses around their necks. He knew that as soon as the pick-up crept up the river bank, the two would be left hanging from their necks, dying in agony. No matter how fast he ran, he seemed to be getting farther and farther away from the impending murders. Only this time, Father Mitchell and Phillip Campbell weren't the people facing certain death. The two people he saw hanging, their faces grotesquely contorted, were the two people he loved more than life itself – his parents.
E!
Iris checked on Lily for the third time since they had returned home. She had to assure herself that her daughter was still in the house. She needed to know that it hadn't been a dream. Slowly and quietly, she closed Lily's bedroom door, not wanting to wake her from her peaceful slumber, then tiptoed down the hallway.
After ensuring that all was well, she sat down at her desk. She pulled open her stationary drawer removing several sheets of lavender paper. Her heart thudded inside her chest as she opened up the worn address book. Did they still live at the same location all these years later? She had no options but to try to contact them. It had been far too long since they had heard from her and now it was time to contact them again. They needed to know the truth and they needed to be prepared for what was about to happen in Selma.