Lost and Found
Clay was walking down the quiet neighborhood street looking for signs of something familiar and trying to focus his scattered thoughts. He was freezing cold with his arms inside his thin t-shirt, wrapped around himself in an attempt to conserve body heat. It was dark and he couldn't get a good look at the bottom of his feet, but they were burning and aching enough that Clay was sure that they were torn up, in addition to being on the way to frostbite.
Bravo's youngest by a mile was limping toward the end of the street in hopes of finding signs of an all night gas station or McDonalds where he could find help and call Jason to come pick him up. Working hard to control his breathing and not panic when sensing movement behind him, Clay turned to see a large, brown and black dog staring him down and beginning to growl aggressively.
From hours of dog-related conversation on long plane rides attached to Brock's side, Clay knew that dogs can sense fear and weakness. He needed to remain calm and under no circumstances try to outrun the angry dog who was not wearing a collar and appeared to be a stray. Unfortunately for Clay, the dog lunged and had his huge mouth locked tight around the kid's calf, with his sharp teeth sunk deep in his already aching leg.
The pain was immediate and sharp causing Clay to fall to the ground with the angry dog using him as a chew toy. His survival instincts kicked in and Bravo Six decided he was not going down without a fight. Kicking back hard with his free leg, Clay was repeatedly going for the dog's neck in an attempt to dislodge and startle him while using both fists to punch him hard in his head.
Deciding now was the time to wake the neighbors, Clay began to call out wildly for help while kicking and punching the persistent dog who did not seem ready to release the hold he had on his victim's bleeding leg. The next thing Clay saw was a man who looked to be around Jason's age running toward him from a house with colored lights on the front bushes. The man stopped and pulled a large stick off a nearby tree. Clay knew immediately this guy had military training of some kind by the way he confidently approached and neutralized the surprised dog without hesitation.
Hitting hard with the stick and startling the dog, Clay's rescuer was able to pull him off the kid who was now scrambling backwards away from both the mystery man and the dog who was running off in the opposite direction. Once the dog was out of the picture, the man immediately turned his attention to the pajama clad, barefoot boy who was bleeding from the nasty bite on his calf and crab crawling backwards away from him with wide, fear-filled eyes.
A father of two young boys, and a veteran with twenty years service in the Navy, the retired medic immediately took a step backward and raised his hands to let the panicking kid looking up at him know that he was in no way a threat.
"Hey there, kiddo," the man spoke calmly and softly, immediately reminding Clay of Trent who he wildly wanted to appear and scoop him up from this cold, dark nightmare. "You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."
"Is this a dream?" Clay asked breathlessly. "Am I awake yet? I want to go home."
Well aware that this terrified kid was close to losing it on him and possibly going into shock if he couldn't contain the situation, the mystery man crouched down slowly to put himself at Clay's level without lowering his raised arms. Seeing the tears filling the blue eyes of the child in front of him and realizing his lips were tinted blue and he was losing the ability to shiver in the freezing cold air, the former Navy medic and current firefighter knew that this boy needed immediate medical care.
Turning to look for his wife who as suspected was standing wrapped in one of his hoodies on the front porch, the rescuer called out to the woman Clay hadn't noticed was looking on nervously.
"Michelle," he called out in a thick accent that reminded Clay of Sonny. "Grab me a blanket and my phone. Come on out here and meet my new friend. He's a little frosty, and a mean ol' dog took a chunk out of him, but we're gonna get him all fixed up and find his mama and daddy. I'm sure someone is missing their baby."
Turning back to make eye contact with the kid now sitting on the cold, wet sidewalk, the father of two could see that his thin sleep pants were getting soaked and the boy needed to be slowly warmed up immediately.
"How are you doing there, honey?" The mystery man spoke calm and gentle, reminding Clay of Trent once again. "My name is Mike. This pretty lady heading our way is Michelle. She's an A1 mama and kid fixer. We've got two boys I'm guessing are around your age sleeping upstairs right now. No one here is gonna hurt you. I promise."
"Can you call Jason?" Clay said desperately, trying not to cry like a little kid. "I want to go home."
"Hey there, baby," Michelle soothed, smiling and talking softly with an equally thick accent. She knelt down next to her husband who was calling 911. "How about we get you wrapped up in this nice, warm blanket? I bet there's a frantic mama out there missing her sweet boy. We're gonna find her and get you home where you belong just as soon as possible. What's your name, baby?"
"Clay," he said, sniffling and allowing Michelle to wrap him in the warm blanket. "Can you call Jason now, please? I want to go home."
"We know you do, baby," Michelle said, soft and gentle, rubbing his blanket-covered arms. "We're gonna find your family. I promise. Who is Jason? Is he your daddy?"
"He's my dad, and my boss," Clay said, his puffy red eyes leaking tears. "Please call him."
Michelle looked over at her husband confused.
"Jason is your daddy and your boss?" she said, wiping away Clay's tears with her thumb. "How old are you, honey?"
"Sixteen," Clay said, turning to look back at Mike. "Did you call him yet?"
"We're gonna call him now," Mike promised, moving the blanket to get a look at the kid's torn up leg. "Can I take a peek at your leg, son? I'm not an official doctor, but I was a medic for a long time, and now I'm a firefighter right here in Norfolk."
When Clay nodded and allowed the older man who he instinctively knew he could trust to gently straighten out his leg, Mike tore open his sleep pants to get a look at the damage. He'd called for an ambulance while Michelle was distracting the kid, and he knew the paramedics would be arriving any minute.
"So Clay," Mike spoke lightly while he took a closer look at the deep bite in the boy's calf, handing his phone to Michelle who shined the flashlight on the nasty wound. "You said Jason is your boss? Are you in the Navy, son?"
Clay nodded, huddling closer to Michelle who reminded him of Derrick's wife, his adopted Aunt Catherine.
"Jason is my boss, my team leader," Clay spoke quietly. "But he's my dad now too. It's a long story I guess. Can we call him now, Mike?"
"Sure thing, buddy," Mike said, sitting back on his heels. "Let's call him. What's his last name?"
"Hayes," Clay said. "Jason Hayes. He's my dad now."
Mike looked at his wife surprised.
"Jason Hayes is your dad and your team leader, Clay?" he asked, turning back to face the boy on the ground in front of him. "Bravo One Jason Hayes? Are you a SEAL?"
Before Clay could respond, Michelle joined the conversation.
"Mike," she said, skeptically. "He's a sixteen-year-old boy. Your son is going to be sixteen in a few months and he's in the tenth grade. How can this baby possibly be a Navy SEAL? I think he's clearly confused."
"Maybe," Mike sighed. "But, I've seen crazier shit in my day. Either way, Jason Hayes is most definitely a SEAL, and the kid is right, we need to call and get him down here to sort this out."
Clay decided to lean against Michelle and keep his mouth closed now that he knew this guy was going to call Jason. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to tell people outside of their family about his situation, and he didn't want to say anything to cause trouble. His head was pounding and foggy, he was freezing cold, and his leg was throbbing. Clay just wanted Jason to come take him home.
"What's Jason's number, Clay?" Mike asked. "I'm going to call him now."
"Um," Clay said, starting to get upset. "I don't have my phone. It starts out 942."
"Shh," Michelle soothed, wrapping her arm around him and kissing his forehead like he was her own. "Relax, baby. We'll figure it out. Say it outloud. 942…"
"942…" Clay started, closing his eyes. "942-3569."
Clay opened his eyes, smiling. "That's it, Mike," he said, relieved. "Call him now, please. He'll come get me."
Just then they heard the sirens coming toward them. Clay immediately stiffened and started to get upset.
"I don't want to go in the ambulance alone," Clay said, reaching out to hold Mike's shirt. "Call him now."
"Calm down, son," Mike said, firm and gentle. "I'm calling your daddy right now. And you're not going anywhere alone. If Jason can't make it here before the ambulance is ready, I will ride with you and stay until he gets to the hospital. I promise."
It turned out when Jason's phone buzzed with an unknown number, he and Sonny were already on route to Clay's location. They both saw the ambulance speed by and followed it two streets away to find their boy being calmed down by the medic who as fate would have it trained with Trent years ago when they all were younger than Brock and just starting out in the Navy.
By the time Clay was being cut out of his cold, wet pajamas, wrapped in blankets and loaded on the ambulance headed to the emergency room, Mama Trent was by his side, talking calmly and settling his baby. Sonny had already taken off ahead of the ambulance to meet them at the hospital, Brock and Corey were headed back to The Colonel's house to report the good news to Katie and her panicked family, while Jason and Ray were sorting out exactly what had happened with Mike and two young cops who had arrived with the ambulance.
"My wife and I were up in bed asleep when we heard the boy calling out for help," Mike reported to the young cops who it turned out he knew from his work as a firefighter. "I saw from the window a dog had him down, but the kid was fighting back, giving him a run for his money. I ran down and was able to get the dog off him, but he took off running down the street. Looked like a stray. I haven't seen him around before tonight, but my kids said something about seeing a dog that looked mean hanging around at the park down the street."
"How did your boy end up out here in the middle of the night in his pajamas?" the second cop asked Jason in Mike's living room with Ray and Michelle who was handing out hot coffee.
Before Jason could answer the young cops, who clearly seemed suspicious of why a kid would be wandering around barefoot and half dressed in the middle of a freezing night, Mike stepped in making eye contact to diffuse the situation.
"Boys," the obviously well-respected former medic and current first responder calmly but firmly addressed the young officers who were likely in their early twenties. "You probably don't know that before I joined the department, I was a medic in the Navy for many years. Your captain, Sully, served with me, and we were deployed together more than once."
"Yes, sir," the first cop said. "Captain Sully has mentioned that he served with you."
"These men here, Hayes and Perry, are SEALS and brothers of both Sully and myself," Mike went on, not breaking eye contact. "Clay, the boy in the ambulance, is Hayes' son. I have no doubt there is a reasonable explanation for how his boy ended up here tonight."
"Yes, sir," the second cop said, looking at his partner for confirmation. "We aren't saying the kid was doing anything wrong, or his father did anything wrong. We just need to know what happened and how the kid ended up in the ambulance because we were officially dispatched, the kid is a minor, and we need to complete the paperwork."
"We understand that, son," Ray said, all calm and reasonable as usual. "Master Chief Hayes and I know all about paperwork. As does your brother Mike here. We will answer all your questions."
"My brother Captain Perry is absolutely correct," Jason said, reaching out to shake hands with both nervous looking young officers who clearly didn't want to piss off Captain Sully or go back to the station without having done the proper paperwork. "We will explain exactly what happened tonight with my boy. I want to get this all sorted out so I can get to the hospital to be with my son who I have no doubt is confused and upset."
"Yes, sir," the first kid said, hesitantly. "We just have a few things we need to know. And we need to check in with Captain Sully because in situations like this, we normally need to interview the child involved."
"Not a problem," Jason said, lightly. "You are more than welcome to talk to Clay and ask him anything you need to know."
"We appreciate that, sir," the second kid said, both boys looking relieved that these very large, serious looking older military guys weren't going to challenge them on interviewing the kid or try to stop them completing their report.
"So, how did your son end up here tonight?" the first cop asked. "Do you live in the neighborhood?"
"No," Jason answered. "Clay and I live in Virginia Beach. He was spending the night with his friend, Corey Myers. He lives with his parents, Colonel Myers and his wife over on Magnolia St. The boys were sleeping in Corey's room and it appears that Clay had a nightmare or was possibly sleepwalking which he has done occasionally in the past at home. Corey woke up and noticed Clay was not in his bed. He searched the house and saw the front door was open. He called his brother-in-law, Brock Reynolds, who is also on my team and will answer any questions you have. Brock called me and we drove to the Colonel's house to search for Clay."
"Is there a reason you didn't call 911 right away, sir," the second cop asked.
"Captain Perry reached out to the community security team to touch base and tell them we were looking for our kid," Jason said, calmly. "Honestly son, we hunt people down regularly as part of our job. I was fairly confident that we could locate Clay on our own, and if we hadn't found him here with Mike and Michelle within a short amount of time, we would have called to report him missing."
"You said Clay has done this before?" the cop asked. "He walked out in his sleep in the past?"
"He has walked in his sleep in our apartment and at his uncles' places in the past," Jason explained. "Clay was in foster care and had a history of abuse from before he became my adopted son. Nightmares are an issue we are working to deal with, and he sees a counsellor to help him with his sleeping problems. But he has never attempted to leave the house in the past when sleepwalking. I take full responsibility for his wandering away. I hadn't anticipated that he would do something like this in his sleep, but in retrospect, I should have warned Colonel Myers that something like this might happen. I can assure you both that I will talk with Clay's doctor and counsellor, and my family and I will do whatever is necessary to assure my boy's safety moving forward. This will not happen again. And I am more than willing to meet with your Captain if there is any concern."
"Are we good, guys?" Mike asked, stepping in. "I know Jason wants to get to his kid. And Clay was asking for him the whole time he was with us, so I know he's looking for his daddy and likely scared and upset at the hospital."
"Yes, sir," the first cop said. "You are free to go see your son. I hope he's feeling better soon. We need to touch base with our captain, and we will likely stop by to talk briefly with Clay."
"The other issue we need to sort out is this dog," the second cop said. "We can get the information we need from Mike, but your kid clearly took a deep bite from an unknown dog. The county health department will definitely need to be notified, and we will begin a search for the dog. The health department is going to want verification of rabies vaccination if it exists, and if the dog can't be located, Clay will likely need to receive preventative treatment."
"I assume the doctors at the hospital will update us on everything we need to know about any treatment Clay may need?" Ray confirmed.
"Yes, sir," the second cop said. "You can both go. Thank you for your cooperation, and good luck to your boy."
"Thank you both," Ray said, shaking their hands. "We appreciate your understanding. And as Master Chief Hayes said, feel free to reach out with any questions or concerns."
—-
"Clay," Trent said to the kid still attached to his side in full octopus mode, shivering under the warm blanket. "Do you remember being bitten by a dog when you were outside last night?"
Clay nodded his throbbing head which was resting on Trent's chest. "I didn't remember at first. But now it's coming back to me. I was lost on a street with just houses. I was trying to find a store or something that was open so I could call. I didn't have my phone and it was so cold. My feet were hurting and I just wanted someone to come get me."
"I'm sorry this happened, honey," Trent said, sincerely. "Jason is too. We know you wake up scared and confused sometimes, and we should have been prepared that you might try to leave the house. We're going to come up with a plan so this doesn't happen again."
"I don't want this to ever happen again, Trent," Clay's voice was unsteady, and his best caregiver could clearly see his boy was upset. "I was so scared. I wasn't sure if I was awake or dreaming when the dog bit me. It hurt so bad, and he was a huge dog, bigger than Cerb. I thought he was going to kill me, but then a man ran out from his house and hit the dog with a stick and got him off me."
"Baby, I promise this is not going to happen again," Trent assured him, rubbing his head gently. "We are going to talk to Dr. Jeff and come up with a plan. You aren't the only kid in the world who has bad dreams and sleepwalks sometimes. There are ways to make sure you are safe, and it's our job to do whatever it takes to figure out how to best do that. You are always safe with Jason, and you are always safe with me and Sonny and all the other grumpy old geezers who love you so much."
"I love you too, Uncle Trent," Clay whispered. "My leg is hurting where the dog bit me. Is the doctor going to give me a shot?"
"Well, Shorty," Trent continued to talk calmly. "The good news is last night the doctor gave you a tetanus booster and an antibiotic shot in the emergency room before he stitched up your leg. So no promises, but I'm pretty sure you won't need anymore tush shots for the dog bite. And you'll definitely be sporting a very tough looking scar to impress your friends."
"My butt is a little sore," Clay reported. "But not too bad."
"I'm glad to hear that, tough guy," Trent chuckled. "Remember I told you that Jason was taking care of some business?"
Clay nodded, closing his eyes, not wanting to lift his aching head.
"Jason and the other guys are back on the street where we found you last night," Trent explained. "They are talking to the neighbors and trying to track down the mystery mutt who decided to nibble on our favorite kid."
"So he won't bite anyone else?" Clay asked.
"Yes," Trent said. "We don't want anyone else to get gnawed on. But also, runt, we need to locate the dog and his owner, if there is an owner ,to find out if he's had his shots."
"What if they can't find the dog or he doesn't have shots?" Clay asked, nervously, already knowing the answer to his own question.
"You already got the tetanus and antibiotic jabs," Trent said. "So that's done. But if there is no proof of rabies vaccination, then you're going to need shots to prevent you getting sick. Sorry, honey. I know this has been a bad weekend. And you don't need to tell me that you don't want shots, because I am aware, but if we can't prove the dog has an updated rabies vaccine, you're taking the shots. And that's non-negotiable."
"Is it going to hurt really bad, Trent?" Clay asked, burying his face in his best uncle's chest. "Is it going to be butt shots?"
"No, and no," Trent reported, lifting his whining kid to make eye contact. "I'm happy to report that it's no longer 1970, and rabies treatment has come a long way. So we can roll back the whining and the drama. You already had a rabies vaccine when you went through SEAL training, so the good news is you only need three shots instead of four."
"Three shots doesn't sound like good news," Clay pouted.
"Well, you didn't let me finish, Whiny McWhinester as your Uncle Sonny would say," Trent chuckled. "Yes it's three shots, but it's a skinny little needle that will barely be a pinch, and it won't be sore when it's done. And the best news of all…it's going in your arm like a big boy. Your tush is in the rabies shot safety zone."
"You say that like it's a done deal and I'm getting the shots," Clay added a sigh to his already impressive pout.
"It's looking that way," Trent shrugged. "Sadly, Jason reports that while the dog has been located and taken to the vet, he does not appear to have an owner. No owner means no proof of vaccination."
"Where is Jason now?" Clay asked, laying back down attached to his favorite pillow and back rubber.
"The boss, along with the rest of Bravo, in addition to Metal and Derrick are knocking on doors in the Colonel's fancy gated community to see if they can track down an owner to claim Cujo who is cooling his jets in solitary at the animal shelter," Trent reported. "I'm sure they will all be descending on the kiddie ward to check on their baby soon."
Trent decided to change the subject from rabies shots to something less likely to get their worry wort kid worked up.
"In other more happy news," Trent said cheerfully. "Your latest adventure provided me the opportunity for an old, worn out medic reunion."
"You're not old and worn out, Trent," Clay said, turning to look up at the man he loved and depended on for so much. "You're the best medic around. Everyone knows that."
"You are my best publicist," Trent said, reaching out to tug his ear gently. "And tonight you got the chance to meet another pretty great medic who happens to be an old friend of mine I haven't seen in a very long time."
"Really?" Clay said, perking up and curious as always. "When did I meet your friend?"
"Do you remember the man and his wife who chased the dog away and took care of you until we could get to you?" Trent asked.
"Mike and Michelle?" Clay said, surprised. "They were really nice. He wasn't scared of the dog at all - went full ninja on him. Mike hit him with a stick and chased him away, and Michelle brought me a blanket and sat with me. She reminded me of Catherine - except they both talked like Sonny. She said they have two sons and one is turning sixteen soon."
Clay was in full motormouth mode and distracted from fretting about shots and nurse visits just as Trent who knew their boy better than anyone had intended.
"Mike is your friend?" Clay asked. "That's a crazy, random reunion. I remember when he was checking out my leg where I got bit he told me he was a fireman now, but he used to be a medic. Do Jason and the other guys know him too?"
"Mike and I went through combat medic training together a long time ago," Trent explained. "I was already a SEAL at the time, and I had been friends with Jason and Sonny since we first started in the Navy, but they didn't know Mike personally. He and I went through the six months training long before Bravo, we were all on teams, but Jason and Sonny were doing their own thing and I don't remember them ever meeting Mike. But Derrick knows him. He was in our training class as well, and we all hung out and spent a lot of time together in classes."
"But you didn't stay friends after you got your training?" Clay was a big fan of stories about Jason and his old uncles and their antics before he was even born. And as Trent anticipated, their smart as hell, nosey kid was clearly interested in this topic.
"We'll always be friends and brothers," Trent explained patiently, gently rubbing his over-tired boy's head knowing he was close to hitting the wall and passing out attached to his side. "We've had many brothers over the years, and life has taken us in different directions. But we're still brothers."
"But it's different for us, right Trent?" Clay whispered quietly. "You said that we are family forever. I'm Jason's kid now, and he won't leave me. You and Sonny won't go away in different directions and not be with me anymore. Promise you won't, Trent."
"Absolutely, Shorty," Trent assured him once again. "We are family. You are Jason's kid, just like Emma and Mikey. And you are my baby forever. I will always be here for you. And there is absolutely nothing you could do to get rid of your mean ol' Uncle Sonny. He loves you more than the whole state of Texas."
"When can I go home, Trent?" Clay asked, breaking out his best pitiful face. "You know I don't like it here."
"So I've been told," Trent sighed, shaking his head. "We can go when the doctor says you're ready to go. And as far as hospitals go, this one is top shelf. You've got pretty nurses delivering hot chocolate and cookies like you're camped out at Starbucks. A private room with a fancy TV and all the Netflix, YouTube and Hulu you can handle. Free wifi. Corey sent his fancy Switch thing for you to use, which Katie hand delivered along with Brock's GameBoy that he doesn't let anyone but you touch."
"I know, I'm lucky," Clay said softly.
"Damn straight, you're lucky," Trent said firmly. "There are kids on this ward who have been here getting hard treatment for weeks or even months. And there are kids here who are all alone and scared with no one who cares enough to sit with them or worry about how they're feeling."
"And sweetheart," Trent said gently, rubbing his boy's back. "I know that you more than most kids understand how awful it feels to be scared and alone. So maybe we can try looking on the bright side, being a little more thankful, and a little less woe is me."
"I will, Trent," Clay said, ashamed and knowing exactly what his no-nonsense step-mama was saying to him. "I'm sorry for being a whiny brat. I know how lucky I am to have you and Jason and everyone else taking care of me. I won't complain about the rabies shots, and I won't even whine when the nurse shows up with the turn over on your belly thermometer and butt shots."
That got a laugh out of Trent. He loved this kid so much.
"Well, I don't expect you to go from part time pain in the ass to full-time saint and martyr all in one day," Trent teased. "I know you don't feel good, and you don't want to be here. And I don't want you to stay one minute more than necessary. I'm just reminding you that there are worse things than a couple days on the pediatric ward. Capice?"
Clay nodded, wrapping his arms around the older man and closing his eyes.
"Si. Capisco," Clay looked up smiling.
"Go to sleep, smart ass," Trent snorted, swatting his upturned bottom lightly. "Jason will be here with lunch and the final verdict on the mystery dog in about an hour. I know your head is aching, and I want you to settle down and relax in this nice warm bed with your favorite uncle."
"You won't leave?" Clay squinted up at his always reliable protector, confirming to the experienced medic that his kid did indeed have a headache.
"I'm not going anywhere without you, baby," Trent promised. "Now close your eyes and sleep. No more talking."
"I love you, Uncle Trent," Clay said drifting off, exhausted by the night's adventures.
"Love you more," Trent said, softly stroking his boy's forehead which he knew from experience would settle and put him straight to sleep.