Author's Note: Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse...
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June 16, 1977Work continued through the night at the Norwalk mall, hope soaring each time a survivor was pulled out of the rubble. Most of the casualties were on the western end of the lower level. Shortly after midnight, Reggie pulled an elderly woman out from under a table at Alphonsine's. They hadn't found any survivors in this restaurant. A few customers had taken refuge under tables, but they hadn't been sturdy enough to protect anyone from the weight of the mall's upper level falling on them. This woman had died in the arms of a man who hadn't managed to get himself under the table with her. He'd clearly been trying to protect her. Reggie reached for the woman's purse, grateful for his gloves as he pulled it out from under some broken glass. Pulling off the gloves, he opened the purse and looked in the wallet for an ID. He found a driver's license in the name of Harriet DeSoto. The picture matched the victim.
"Dwight," he called to his partner. "Look at this. Isn't Roy's mom named Harriet?"
"I think so." Dwight bent over and took the wallet from Reggie. He riffled through it and found a wallet sized photograph of Harriet with Roy and his wife and kids. "Yeah, that's Roy's mom." He slid the photo back into the wallet and handed it to his partner.
"Damn." Reggie stashed the wallet back in the purse. "I'll let Captain Stanley know when we're back at Rampart. I think he'll want to be the one to tell Roy."
Dwight nodded, "Yeah. Let's get back to it, partner."
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Just before sunrise, Jim shook JoAnne awake. "Honey, get up and get packed. I'll get the kids ready. I'm driving you home. We need to get on the road."
Jo was up like a shot, awake the instant he touched her shoulder. She threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "Thank you, Daddy."
Jim kissed her on the cheek, then backed up to look her in the eyes. "Listen, I talked with Roy last night. You were sound asleep, and I didn't think I should wake you. I'm sorry if that was the wrong choice. He knows we're on the way, and he says to tell you he loves you. We'll call Rampart today from along the road so you can talk to him."
Jo nodded as she hopped out of bed. "I'm glad you talked to him." She threw the kids' clothes into one suitcase and her own into another. "Just let me get a quick shower," she said, "and then I'll be ready."
"Sounds good," Jim said. "Just keep the volume down. I want to get out of the house without waking your mother." He had decided not to tell her about Julia's conversation with that nice doctor at Rampart.
JoAnne rolled her eyes. "God forbid. She'd never let me leave."
Fifteen minutes later, as the sun rose over the wheatfields, they were settling the two older kids in the backseat. Jo settled in the front passenger seat with D.J. in her lap and Jim took the wheel. As he backed out of the driveway, the light in the master bedroom window came on. Julia knew they were leaving. Jim shrugged. His wife had never cared for him the way he had for her. He knew that when he married her, though he'd hoped she would grow to love him. Her hatred of Harriet DeSoto — and thus of Roy — dated back to the women's time as nurses in a World War II evac hospital. They'd started out as best friends, but a dashing injured soldier had chosen Harriet over Julia. Julia had never forgiven Harriet, even when that young soldier was killed at Anzio. Jim was the one she had settled for after she got home, and she had never let him forget it.
He got on the road, drove through the tiny town of Leoti, and soon turned onto the highway heading west. D.J. had already fallen back to sleep in JoAnne's lap. "Get some rest while you can, honey," Jim counseled. "It's going to be a long day."
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As soon as visiting hours started, Reggie knocked on the door of Captain Stanley's room. He was exhausted and wanted to go home and sleep, but he had a notification to make first. "Hello, Captain?"
"Reg, come on in. What brings you over here?"
"Hi, Reggie." Emily smiled at the young paramedic. "It's good to see you again."
Reggie glanced downwards. Twisted his gloves in his hands, he frowned. "Dwight and I were at the Norwalk Mall. We… um… found Harriet DeSoto. Roy's mom."
"You found her —" Sadness shadowed Hank's face. "Ah."
"Oh, honey," Emily said, reaching for Hank's hand. "Poor Roy."
Reggie nodded. "I don't think she had time to hurt at all. She was with a man — I don't think he's Roy's dad. His ID said Merritt Stirling." He set a large shopping bag on Hank's table. "Chief McConnikee said we could give these to you to give Roy. There's Harriet's purse. We found a family photo in the wallet — Roy's in it. And there are some books and toys in the shopping bag that don't seem damaged. We thought you might want to be the one to tell him."
Hank nodded. "Of course."
"Oh…" Reggie fished in his pocket, then placed a diamond ring in Hank's hand. "She was wearing this." An awkward silence hung in the air. "Um… how're you doing, Captain? And how's Roy? Any improvement?"
Hank breathed out a tired sigh. "They say Roy hasn't shown any improvement yet. I'm doing fine though — be out of here any time now."
"I hope they throw the book at the kids who pulled that prank." Reggie shook his head. "Idiots. Roy shouldn't have to go through this."
"Yeah. I heard they caught the guys. Charges are being filed."
"Good." Reggie stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry, Captain. We were up all night. I came here as soon as we got off shift. I'm going to find a bed somewhere and get some sleep. Maybe a couch in the nurse's lounge. My apartment building is gone."
"You and John Gage both, I hear. And how many others?"
"Yeah. I know. Too many." Moving stiffly, he headed for the door. "Bye, Captain. Bye, Mrs. Stanley."
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Hank's shoulders slumped under the weight of Reggie's news. The paramedic was right — Roy didn't need this loss on top of everything else. Especially when JoAnne wasn't home to support him.
Emily pulled him into a hug. "I wish I could wave a wand and turn back time or something. Stop all these awful things from happening."
Hank sighed. "Yeah. Me too." Tears burned in his eyes. He was a tough man, but this had all been too much. He needed to let it out.
Emily kissed him. "We'll get through this, honey. And we'll do everything we can for your men."
He held her close. "I know, Babe. I'm just so damned tired right now. I don't wanna have to talk to Roy. I just don't wanna deal with anything… and yet, I have to. It's what I do, right?"
"Yes. And it's so hard because you care so much about them." She shuddered. "Somehow it feels like everything is about to change for us all."
Hank nodded. "Station is gone. Big Red is gone. Roy and Chet might never work again. Families hurt. Em, everything's changed and we're just playing catch-up. I feel like this earthquake is the end of us all… of what we had.
His wife's eyes were moist too. She pressed her lips to his. "Honey, you still have me. And we still have our home. Our kids are safe at camp. And Hank, nothing will weaken the bond you have with your men, even if you never work together again. Maybe now you go on to become a chief. Roy and John and the others may have to find something new, too. But they'll always be part of our family. That will never change."
"You're right, Em," Hank managed a slight smile, his heart welling with gratitude for his wife. "That'll never change. I love you, sweetheart.'"
"I love you too." She stroked his hair and smiled. "Who could know when we first met all those years ago that we would make such a life together?"
Things were getting entirely too watery for Hank, so he grinned and forced a chuckle. "Who'd-a thunk?"
"Do you want me to go with you when you talk to Roy?"
Sobering, Hank shook his head. "I need to visit Mike, and then I'll go see Roy. I think he'll want the privacy."
Emily nodded. She kissed Hank again. "OK. I'll go pray in the chapel. You can find me there when you're ready."
"Thank you, Emily. See you soon."
Just after Emily left, Dr. Brackett arrived. "Well, Hank, I come with discharge pa —" His voice trailed off. "You look like you're carrying the weight of the world on those shoulders."
"Exactly how I feel, Doc." He explained about Roy's mother.
"And you have to make the notification." Brackett's gaze darkened. "That's going to be rough on him."
"Exactly."
Brackett's eyes narrowed. "Too much is happening too fast, and I can't see where it's leading." He handed Hank his discharge papers.
With a wry chuckle, Hank shook his head. "I can believe it. I'm gonna head for the chapel before I go see the men. That's where Em is."
Brackett pursed his lips and nodded. "Seems like a good place to start. If you want the chaplain to go with you to talk with Roy, I'm sure he'd be willing."
Hank nodded. "I'll think about it." But he already knew he wouldn't ask for that. This was his job. He was the leader of 51's A-Shift and it was only right that he break the bad news himself. Before Brackett could leave, Hank's mind went to another of his men who weighed heavily on his mind. "Doc, how's Johnny is doing?"
Brackett's cheek twitched. "Well, he's still asleep. He was pretty worn out after yesterday's little adventure — I would throw the book at him for that, but he helped save Chet's life, so I'll go easy on him. He received a bite wound on one hand — looks like it came from a child. I wish I knew who the kid was, but at this point he can't tell me anything. I've cleaned it out and given him antibiotics, but I'm worried about what he might have picked up." Brackett put a hand on Hank's shoulder. "Listen, Hank, you'll find the right words for Roy. It's what you do."
"Thanks, Doc."
"Come see me in a couple weeks and we'll x-ray that wrist again, see how it's doing."
Hank nodded absently, his mind already on what he was going to say to Roy.
"I'll see you later, Hank." Brackett slipped out, closing the door behind him.
Hank climbed out of the bed. Emily had left a bag with a clean change of clothes at the foot of his bed. He changed quickly, then left the room, headed for the chapel.
When he stepped through the door, he saw Emily sitting in a pew, hands folded, head bowed. She was praying out loud, but he couldn't make out what she was saying until he slid in next to her. "— can't imagine what Roy is feeling right now, but I know it will be a terrible shock to get the news about his mother. I pray for comfort for him and that you'll get JoAnne and the kids home safely. I also bring Johnny and Chet and Mike and Marco and their families before you. And Father, please be with my Hank…."
Head bowed, Hank smiled. He felt a little embarrassed to hear his name in her prayers, but thankful too.
Emily's hand wrapped around his as she continued. "He's struggling. He cares so much about his men, and what hurts them hurts him too. Oh, Lord, this is such a tangled mess. Only You can straighten it out. Please untangle it and make something beautiful out of it as only you can. In Jesus' Name, Amen." Her eyes opened and she turned her head toward him. Her steady gaze filled him with hope and courage. Her love made him feel like he could take on a dragon and survive.
Hank kept his voice down out of respect, but he showed her his discharge papers. "I got sprung!"
She rested her head on his shoulder. "Good. Time to check on your men now, right?"
Hank kissed Emily, then gently pulled away and got to his feet. "Yeah. It's time. I love you, Emily Stanley, with all my heart." Then he moved toward the door, buoyed by the assurance that her love and her prayers went with him.
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Hank's first stop was Beth's room. He figured he would find Mike there. Hank and Mike had been best friends ever since they'd served together at 36's. Hank needed to know how his friend was doing. The Stoker family had been through the wringer with this quake, and they were suffering their own deep grief over the loss of Mike's mom. Hank knocked on the door, then poked his head in. "Mike?" he said quietly.
Mike stood up from his chair. "Hi, Hank. How are you?" He indicated Hank's splinted wrist.
"Nothing wrong with me that won't heal with a little time." Hank reached to pull his engineer into a one-armed hug. "I'm really sorry about your mother."
"Thanks. It's rough." Mike nodded towards his unconscious wife, who had tubes running everywhere. "It's even harder not knowing much about how Beth's going to make out."
Hank frowned. "I thought she just had a summer flu."
"Complicated by her injuries. The docs tell me she inhaled a lot of dust. Looks like she's in shock and developing pneumonia."
Hank squeezed Mike's arm. "Emily's down in the chapel, praying for everyone. I know she's thinking especially of your family." He paused briefly. "And Roy's. Reggie Scott visited to let me know he'd found Harriet in the Norwalk Mall. She's gone too."
Mike shook his head. "Dammit. This quake —" He struggled for words, but finally gave up. After a long moment of silence, his eyes suddenly went wide. "Listen, Hank, Ian had a dream about his grandmother and, strangely enough, about Harriet. He said he saw them both and they were happy… that Roy's mom had a message for him. It's like… well… like he saw them in Heaven."
"Ian knew about Harriet?" Hank wasn't sure how to respond. He'd never heard anything so strange. And yet, Ian was an unusual kid. Smart as a whip and deeply sensitive, he sometimes seemed more like an adult than a nine year old. "Mike, I don't know whether you're up for it, but I have to go talk with Roy. Give him the news. Would you go with me?"
Mike blew out a breath. "I need to check on the boys first. Let me do that, and I'll meet you back here in a few minutes. Then yeah. I'll go with you."
"Want me to sit with Beth while you're gone?"
"Sure. That would be great. Thanks."
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Dixie was with the Stoker boys when the next aftershock hit. Ian had handled the shaking pretty well, but Jake panicked. It wasn't as bad as the original quake, but there were a few big jolts. Their hospital room was OK, though a couple of ceiling tiles had been worked loose and the power was out again. Jake clung to her, crying that he didn't want Pops to die too. His grandfather had gone to use the facilities. Hopefully, he was all right.
"Hey there, Jake," she whispered, rubbing circles on his back. His blood pressure had shot up, his heart rate was way too fast, and he was having trouble catching his breath. She'd tried putting an oxygen cannula on him, but he'd fought it. "Everything is going to be OK, sweetheart."
"Yeah, Jake…" Ian coughed. He was back in the oxygen mask and speaking required a lot of effort. His concern for his brother warmed Dixie's heart. "It's gonna… be OK."
"I want Daddy." Jake cried, his eyes flooding with tears. "I want Pops and Gramma."
Dixie would have gone to check on the two men, but Jake wouldn't let go of her.
Finally, Mike's father came back into the room. He hurried to Jake's bedside and pulled the little boy into his arms. "That was a rough one, huh Jakey?" Dixie moved out of his way so he could settle on the edge of Jake's bed. "But now your old Pops is back. We're all right. You're safe, kiddo."
"I'll get Dr. Early, and then I'll find Mike," Dixie said. Joe was just a few rooms down. Dixie explained her concern for Jake, then went to the nurse's station, grabbed a flashlight, and headed for the stairs. The generator should kick in soon, but until then, that stairwell was awfully dark. Hopefully she would find Mike in Beth's room.
Instead, she found Hank. "Mike was on the way up to see the boys," Hank explained. "I told him I'd wait here with Beth. Then he was going to go with me to talk with Roy." Hank frowned. "Roy's mother was one of the victims in the Norwalk Mall. I have to break the news."
"Damn," Dixie breathed out. "I'm sorry to hear that." She sighed. "Well, I'll keep looking. I sure hope he didn't get stuck in the elevator." She contemplated taking the elevator back upstairs, but then opted for the stairs instead. They just seemed safer.
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Mike lay dazed on the elevator floor. The enclosed space was dark as a tomb. He wasn't sure if he'd been unconscious, but he didn't remember how he got there. The top of his left shoulder hurt like the dickens, and he had a massive headache. "Anyone else here?" he mumbled. He couldn't remember if he'd been alone. No one answered, so he felt around and confirmed that he was by himself. That fact was both disheartening and comforting — he wasn't responsible for helping anyone else, but he still had to find a way to help himself. If he just waited, he could be here a long time. There's gotta be a way out, he thought as he pulled himself into a sitting position.
He reached into his right pocket and found his penlight. Switching it on, he blinked a couple of times as his eyes adjusted to the light. Then he looked around. Ahh… the access panel. He could climb through that. He got to his feet, then reached with his good arm to push the panel up and to the side. Then he shone the light up the elevator shaft. Amid motes of dust, the light revealed a mangled track. Mike pulled himself through the hole to the top of the elevator car. It shifted under his feet, then hurtled into the black pit below him. He almost fell with it but managed to grab a rung of the pit ladder just in time. In the process, he wrenched his injured arm and whacked his head hard against something behind him. He stopped for a second to gather his senses, then started up the ladder for the next floor.
It was an awkward climb, and his head was spinning. With his left shoulder injured, every movement of that arm caused pain to shoot through him. He shouldn't move the arm at all, but he had no choice. He needed both arms to get up the ladder. And then he would have to figure out how to open the doors. Adrenaline propelled him forward, but pain and confusion slowed his movements. How had he gotten here, anyway?
When he finally reached the elevator doors, Mike looked around for something to help him pry them open. Finally, he yanked at a bar from the pit ladder just above where he'd stopped. It took both arms, but he finally broke it off. The pain nearly made him faint. Don't you dare, Mike Stoker! He clung to the ladder, breathing through the pain, waiting for it to ease.
Once he felt able, Mike took a deep breath and stuck the metal bar between the elevator doors and pushed as hard as he could to force them apart. The doors creaked open with a horrible squeal. Finally, Mike could see daylight in the hallway. Just as the lights flickered on, he climbed out through the narrow crack he'd made, stepped into the hallway, and promptly passed out.
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Just as Dixie came out of the stairwell, she heard screeching. "Get a gurney! Get a doctor!" She recognized the voice. That screech was an all-too-familiar sound in Rampart's halls lately. Candy striper Lucinda Mae was known for her flair for the dramatic.
Shaking her head, Dixie waved to a couple of orderlies. "Bring a gurney." Then she headed down the hall toward Lucinda Mae, who continued screeching. At least she'd had the presence of mind to press a fresh towel against the head of the man who lay bleeding on the floor.
Dixie arrived just in time to see Mike Stoker open his eyes and smile up at the teenage girl. "Hi, beautiful. You come here often?"
The candy striper frowned. "Keep quiet, mister. You're hurt."
Dixie put her hands on Lucinda Mae's shoulders. "Go on, dear. I'll take it from here. Send for Dr. Early." Once the girl was gone, she looked her patient over. "Hey, Mike. What happened to you?"
Mike's wide green eyes met Dixie's. "My… my shoulder! It hurts bad!" His voice was thin and high pitched, and he looked so vulnerable and confused that Dixie's heart went out to him. She wasn't sure that he recognized her. Whatever he'd done to himself, it must have been a doozy.
"Hey, we're going to take good care of you, Mike. You've got a head wound back here, a pretty bad one. Looks like you've got bruising on your forehead, too." Apparently, he'd taken two hard hits. That would certainly explain his confusion. "You'll need stitches, and I'll bet you've got a nasty concussion." She shook her head. "Hank was wondering where you got to. He sent me to look for you." Then she noticed the elevator doors. "Were you stuck in there?"
Mike started to shrug, then yelped. "Guess so. Ow!"
"OK. Dr. Early is on the way." She directed the orderlies to lift him onto the gurney, taking extra care for his shoulder. "Room 320 is available. It's clean and ready to go. Take him in there."
Joe arrived shortly after Mike had been wheeled into the room. By this time, Dixie had managed to get Mike's shirt off. From the bump on top of his left shoulder, she thought he had suffered a shoulder separation. She'd seen enough of them to recognize the condition, even without an x-ray.
Mike panicked when Dr. Early ordered an IV. "No! No needles! Please, lady!"
Dixie frowned. "It's just a quick poke, Mike. You'll barely feel it." She looked at him closer, concerned by the continued confusion in his eyes. "Hey, Mike, do you know who I am?"
"Yeah," he grouched. "Nurse Needles."
Joe smirked. Dixie frowned. "But do you know my name?"
"No." He sounded brash and indignant, just like any young teenager who found himself somewhere he didn't want to be. "Why should I? I'm only here cuz I fell off my bike. Mom made me come."
Dixie's eyes widened. "How old are you, Mike?"
"Thirteen. How old are you?"
"Old enough to know that this needle is going to make you feel a lot better." Dixie glanced at Joe, and he nodded. They were good friends and didn't always need words to communicate. That nod confirmed for Dixie that it was best to enter into Mike's narrative instead of telling him he was wrong. Besides, she could use it to assure he got the treatment he needed. "Now, Mike. Your mom gave us permission to take care of you, and that's what we're going to do. So just close your eyes and you'll hardly feel it. I promise, I'm very good at this."
Mike huffed impatiently but did as he was told. Soon, a light sedative had him slipping off to dreamland.
"Dixie," said Joe, "get Charlie up here. I want a full skull series, and we need x-rays of that shoulder." He shook his head. "This must have happened with that last aftershock. I wish he could tell us more."
Dixie nodded as she called for the tests. "I know. What do we tell his boys?"
"We don't want to worry them. For now, Nurse Needles…" He raised an eyebrow. "Just tell them he had a fall and needs some rest. He'll visit them later."
Her eyes narrowed when Joe repeated Mike's nickname for her. She had to remain professional, or she would have gleefully swatted him for that. "Of course. Oh, this could get complicated! I hope he comes out of it soon!" Forehead wrinkling, she looked at Joe. "You don't think it's permanent, do you?"
Joe sighed. "Well, I'll know more when I get a look at the skull series, but most likely it's temporary. Looks like he took a pretty hard hit on the head. You say he was stuck in the elevator?"
"As far as we can tell. We know he was on the way upstairs to check on his sons. He was found in the hallway outside the elevator, which got stuck during the aftershock. He must have made his own way out when he couldn't raise anyone."
Charlie arrived with the portable x-ray equipment, and Dr. Early and Dixie stepped out of the room.
"Would you go tell Hank?" Dr. Early asked.
Dixie nodded. "Yes, and Mike's dad. Nic's with the boys right now."
"Yes. They need to be prepared before they come see him." Joe rubbed his neck. "He's not Mike the engineer right now. He's a scared thirteen-year-old kid who won't recognize Hank and will be rattled by the sight of his father as an elderly man."
"I'll take care of it." She headed out to find the two men, wondering how they would take the news.
Hank stood up when Dixie came into Beth's room. "Did you find him?"
Dixie paused before answering, searching for the right words. "I found him all right, but things are a bit complicated at the moment—"
Hank's forehead wrinkled. "How much more complicated could they get at this point?"
Shaking her head, Dixie sighed. "Let's see — as best we can tell, Mike got stuck in an elevator, got a head injury, and now he thinks he's thirteen years old. He also has a separated shoulder and he's in a lot of pain."
Hank gaped. "He really thinks he's thirteen?" He scrubbed his head with his good hand. "That's just unreal."
Dixie nodded. "I know. Joe thinks it's temporary. He'll know more after some tests."
"Dammit." Hank's hand dropped to the nape of his neck. "Things are just going from bad to worse."
Dixie squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry, Hank. I think you're going to have to talk with Roy on your own."
"Oh, I'll manage." He sighed. "I'm not so sure I wouldn't mind being thirteen again instead of dealing with all this."
Dixie pressed Hank's hand. "Go see Roy. When you're done talking with him, you could probably look in on Mike. Just keep in mind he probably won't know you." She arched an eyebrow. "You'll find him in the room you just vacated."
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Hank made his way up to ICU, his gut heavy with trepidation. He didn't want to have this talk with Roy, but it had to be done. He stopped just outside Roy's cubicle and drew a deep breath before rapping lightly on the door frame and peeking in.
"Hey, Cap." Roy's tone was flat, unemotional. "Come in." His gaze flicked briefly to Cap and then back to the ceiling of his room.
Hank entered and sat in the chair next to the bed. He set the shopping bag on the floor. "How ya doin, Pal?"
"Never wished I was hurting before," Roy confessed. "But right now, I'd give anything to feel that broken leg." His voice caught slightly and he blinked rapidly, but not before Hank saw the moisture in his eyes.
"I hear you. And I'm sorry." Hank was silent for a few minutes. Then he decided to break the news as gently as he could. "Listen, Roy, I have something to tell you, and it's not easy."
Roy turned to meet eyes with his Captain. "Jo and the kids aren't coming, are they? Her mom convinced her to stay there."
Hank shook his head. "It's not about Jo or the kids. It's your mom. She — well — she didn't make it. She was one of the victims of the Norwalk Mall collapse."
Roy stared at Hank, not quite absorbing his words right away. Then suddenly his face crumpled, though his eyes remained dry. "Mom's gone?"
Hank stood and put his hand on Roy's arm. "I'm so sorry. I brought her purse and the shopping bag they found with her—looks like gifts for the kids. They found it in the rubble. They also gave me this ring she was wearing." Hank held out the ring. "Was she engaged? Reggie said she was with a fellow named Merritt Stirling. He was killed as well."
"Engaged?" Roy's forehead wrinkled up as he took the ring and the purse. "No, that doesn't sound right." Hope took root in his heart. "Maybe… maybe it wasn't her. Maybe her purse was stolen."
His senior paramedic was grasping at straws. Hank understood. He'd probably do the same in Roy's position. "Roy, they checked her ID. It was her. I'm so sorry."
Roy's gaze went back to the ceiling. He scrubbed a hand across his face, then grabbed Hank's hand. "I… uh… need to be alone, Cap."
"Of course. But if you need me, call me anytime, night or day."
"Yeah. Um… could you call JoAnne? I haven't talked to her yet. Mike has the number." Roy turned his eyes back to the wall. "Maybe she should just stay in Kansas."
Hank narrowed his eyes. Roy's flat, defeated tone broke his heart. "You listen to me, pal. Don't give up without a fight. Your wife and your kids love you. JoAnne wants to be with you. Yes, I'll call her." Getting the number from Mike would be difficult just now, but he'd find a way. Maybe Dr. Early or Dixie had it too.
Roy's face crumpled. Though he'd asked Hank to leave, now he grabbed his captain's hand. "I don't know what to do, Cap."
Normally a fairly taciturn man, Cap did the only thing he could think of. He sat on the edge of Roy's bed and put his arms around the man who had become like a little brother to him.
Roy didn't cry, but he clung to Hank. "Everything's turned upside down. Mom's gone and I'm no good for Jo anymore and I… I wish I were gone too."
This time, Hank didn't try to stop the flow of words. They were born of frustration and fear. Roy didn't really mean he wanted to die. But Hank would call Jo as soon as possible. Because one thing was very clear. Roy desperately needed his wife.
Gradually, Roy drifted off to sleep. The news was more than his body was ready to deal with just now. As his eyes sank closed, his grip on Hank loosened.
Taking a deep breath, Hank eased Roy back onto his pillows and stood up. He spotted the diamond ring where Roy had dropped it onto the bedside table. It could easily be stolen, and though Roy seemed apathetic about the ring at best, Hank didn't want anything to happen to it. He quickly scrawled a note to Roy telling him he was going to have the ring placed in the hospital's safe. He then pocketed the ring and went in search of Dixie McCall.
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Julia Frazier rolled her eyes when the phone rang. It seemed everyone was calling her today. She'd ignored the last few calls, but this caller was persistent. On the tenth ring, she picked it up. "Hello?" she barked.
A calm voice on the other end said, "This is Hank Stanley. May I speak to JoAnne DeSoto please? It's urgent."
"She's gone," Julia snapped. "On her way back to California even though I tried to talk sense into her. If you want to give me a message, I'll tell her when her father calls later."
"How long ago did she leave? Is she flying back?"
"They were gone when I woke up, which was around sunrise. They're driving. Couldn't get a flight." She made a scoffing sound. "First it was a disabled kid. Now a disabled husband. Quite the collection."
The voice on the other end tightened but remained polite. "Thank you for the information, ma'am. No message. Goodbye." Click.
Julia didn't even get a chance to respond. "The nerve!" She slammed the receiver down. "I'm so glad we got out of that hell hole when we did."
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Hank was exhausted. The brief conversation with Roy's mother-in-law had left him shaken and angry, but he had to swallow those emotions and get on with things. He still had plenty to do. First, he needed to visit Mike. That was going to be a challenge of a different sort altogether. He hoped Mike's memory was back, but just in case he had some ideas how to approach the visit. He made a quick stop at the hospital gift shop. He didn't want to show up empty-handed.
"Hello, Hank." Dr. Early stepped out of Mike's room just as Hank arrived. "Could I talk with you before you go in?"
"Sure. How is he?"
"There's been no change." Early stifled a yawn. "Sorry. Haven't had much sleep the last few days. Anyway, I've looked over Mike's x-rays and there's no need for surgery. He has a mild to moderate concussion, but he had two separate blows, so his brain did get shaken up some. I believe his amnesia is temporary. Once the swelling goes down, his memory should return." The doctor paused briefly. "There is, however, a chance that this is in part a psychological reaction to the emotional stress he's under. You can go in and see him, but keep in mind that right now, he's a thirteen year old who fell off his bike and who wants his mother. If you try to convince him of anything else, you could do more harm than good."
Hank nodded. "What have you told him about why his mom isn't here?"
"That she was called away on a family emergency. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go talk with his father, and then get a cat nap in the lounge." Early smiled. "That, or some strong coffee."
"Thanks, Doc." Hank watched Early turn and head down the corridor. Then he knocked on the door before pushing it open.
"Hello, young man." Looking at Mike, it wasn't so hard to imagine him as a scared young teen. His eyes were big and darting around, and he looked small in his hospital bed. His head sported a gauze wrap. "How are you doing?"
Mike put a hand to his head, wincing when he ran into the bandage. "Who are you? Are you with the vampire patrol?" He indicated the bandages where the phlebotomists had plied their trade.
Hank chuckled and raised his hands. "No vampire here. I'm Hank Stanley, and I'm a captain in the fire department. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
Mike sighed. "I'm OK. Just bored and my head hurts. They won't let me outta here. The doc says I gotta stay for a few days."
Hank sat in the chair next to the bed. Stupid, uncomfortable plastic chairs. "Well, kid, in my experience, it's best to do what the doctors say." He held up his broken wrist. "My recent experience. I just got sprung. Now, I hear you're interested in firefighting." He knew Mike's love for the big engines had started before he turned ten, so he hoped he was on the mark here.
Mike brightened. "Yeah! I'm gonna drive one of those big engines someday. I already know how they operate. My Uncle Dom's an engineer and he's been teachin' me stuff."
"I bet you'll be one of the best engineers the department could have." That at least was the truth. Hank reached into his pocket and pulled out the small item he'd purchased in the gift shop. It was a cherry red fire engine, one that looked just like Big Red. "I got you something." He pressed the model into Mike's hand. "Hope you like it, kid."
Mike studied it, his eyes sparkling. "This is cool! Thanks!"
Hank had hoped the gift would spark a memory. Apparently, it hadn't. But at least it brought Mike some pleasure. "Anything else I can do for you, kid?" He smiled and shook his head. "I can't keep calling you that. What's your name, pal?"
"Nurse Needles calls me Mike." His impish grin made Hank smile too. "That's what I call Nurse Dixie."
Hank wondered at the evasive answer. Had Mike even forgotten who he was? "Is that your name?"
"Yeah, I'm Mike. Michael Theodore Stoker."
Hank reached to squeeze Mike's hand. "That's a strong name. Mike, you can call me Cap. That's what my men call me."
"OK, Cap! I like that." Mike seemed more animated. He studied the model in his hand, running his finger over the levers and hoses.
"Well, Mike, I've got to go check on a friend of mine. If you don't mind, I'll visit you again later." Hank felt guilty leaving, but it was hard watching his best friend this way, hard knowing his best friend didn't even recognize him. He got to his feet. "You take care and do what those doctors tell you. And especially do what Nurse Needles says. She's the one who's really in charge of this place."
"You'll really come see me again?"
"I sure will. You get some rest and before you know it, I'll be back." He headed for the door. Next he needed to check on Johnny, and then on Marco and his family. Finally, he would visit Chet.
"Bye Cap!"
"Bye, Mike. See you later."
Just as Hank turned toward the door, Dixie came in. Mike let out a melodramatic groan. "Oh no, it's Nurse Needles!"
Hank shook his head and stifled a laugh. "Hello, Nurse Needles. I told our friend you're in charge around here and that he'd better do what you say." He saluted her and then stepped out.
Dixie's voice floated out behind Hank. "OK, Buster, you heard the captain, now listen up…."
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Johnny was on the same floor as Mike. Hank found his way down the corridor, around a corner, and looked in on his youngest crew member. His junior paramedic was sound asleep, an oxygen mask over his face and an IV running into his arm. Hank shook his head and smiled. He envied John, so exhausted even the aftershocks didn't disturb him. He worried about him, too. It wasn't like Johnny to lie so still. Hank wished he could get a full rundown of what was wrong with the man.
He watched Johnny sleep for a moment, then backed quietly out of the room. Marco would probably be in his mother's ward upstairs. Hank hoped the man had his voice back, but he wasn't holding his breath. Remembering Mike's adventure with the elevator, he took the stairs instead. When he came out, he saw Marco sitting in the waiting area. Hank moved that direction and took a seat. "Hey, Marco."
Marco looked up, then waved.
"No voice yet, huh?"
Marco shook his head and shrugged. Then he pulled a notepad and pen out of his pocket, scribbled something, and showed it to Hank. "Mama keeps yelling at me for not talking," it said. "I needed a break."
Hank nodded. "I understand. How's she doing otherwise?"
Marco scribbled some more, then handed the pad to Hank. "Doc says she's improving. There's some swelling but not as bad today as yesterday."
"Good to hear." Hank handed the notepad back. "I'm going to visit Chet. Will you come with me?"
Marco shook his head. He pointed to the door of his mother's ward, then wrote on the pad, "I want to stick close."
"They can always come get you if there's a need. I think Chet would like to see you."
But Marco just shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head again.
Hank sighed. "All right, then. Listen, if you need a place to stay, we've got plenty of room at our house. The kids are at camp till the end of next week."
Marco scrawled another note on his pad. "Thanks, Cap. I need to stay near Mama for now."
"Understood. Bye for now, pal."
When Hank got to Chet's room, he was disappointed to find that Chet was asleep. He stepped in for a moment, just to make sure the man really was breathing. Once he was satisfied, he headed back to the chapel. It was past lunchtime, and Hank wanted nothing more than to be home. Em didn't have her car here, so they would have to take a taxi. He would come back later in the evening and make the rounds again.