Healing
Part 4
July 26th, 1984
Spokane, WA
5:15 pm
It was amazing how great it felt to be able to relieve himself in the normal way again. Dan pondered that thought as he laboriously thumped the walker back toward his bed, the ever-vigilant Sven close at hand. Sven helped him back into the bed, under the watchful eye of Thomas Maypenny. Once he was tucked in, Sven asked, “What would you like for dinner? Chicken soup or mashed potatoes?”
“How about a double cheeseburger?” Dan asked hopefully.
Sven laughed. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said. “Tonight it’s soup or potatoes.”
“Soup, please.” Dan made a face as Sven turned to leave, and Maypenny couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I’m glad to see you’re getting your appetite back,” he said wryly. “I was wondering how long you would be content with gelatin.”
“I had oatmeal for breakfast,” Dan told him, “but I don’t remember eating lunch.”
“Beef broth, some green gelatin and a piece of toast. You didn’t eat much of it.” Maypenny stepped closer to the bed. “Sven told me the doctor changed the timing of your medication so you shouldn’t sleep through any more meals. We don’t want you getting skinny again.”
“Then take me home and feed me,” Dan countered, his joke falling flat when his eyes suddenly welled with tears. “Please?”
“I will, son.” Maypenny squeezed Dan’s shoulder. “As soon as they say you’re ready, we’ll go home, I promise. It will just be a little longer.” Changing the subject, he asked, “Did you have a good talk with your uncle?”
“Yes, I did.” Dan wiggled slightly, trying to get comfortable. “You didn’t have to leave, you know.”
“I know. I just thought you might want some privacy.” Maypenny pulled his chair close to the bed. “Your uncle seemed unusually emotional when I spoke with him.”
“I know how he feels,” Dan said. “I’m having similar problems. I keep telling myself it’s the drugs.”
He stopped talking when Sven entered with a tray of food and two more pain pills. With a sigh, Dan swallowed the tablets, opening his mouth so Sven could check. Satisfied, Sven pushed the table in front of Dan and plumped the pillows before revealing his dubious dinner. It was a bowl of anemic looking chicken soup, a whole grain roll, the ever-present gelatin, and a glass of milk. “Eat,” he warned. “I’m off in an hour, and Donna will be on until morning. I want this gone before I leave; you need to eat if you are planning on gaining strength.”
“It would be easier if it was actual food,” Dan grumbled.
“Tomorrow,” Sven told him. “You accomplished quite a bit today. You’re off the I.V, the catheter is out, and you’re walking. You’re already ahead of schedule. Don’t push it.”
“I just want to go home.” Dan felt his emotions overloading again.
“Then eat your soup and get some sleep.” Sven, while sympathetic, was no pushover. “You know the drill. No whining in front of the parental unit.”
“Aye-aye, Captain Blye.” Dan saluted with his spoon as Sven exited, but set it down when the door closed.
“Eat the soup, Daniel,” Maypenny said gently. “I want to go home, too.”
“Yes, sir.” Dan picked up the spoon and took a few bites of soup. “Will you stay while I eat? I probably only have a half hour before I fall asleep on you.”
“Of course.” Maypenny shifted the chair so he was facing Dan. “I won’t leave until you fall asleep. Would you like me to tell you how your campers spent the day?”
“Yeah. That would be great.” Dan tore a piece off of the roll, dipping it in the soup and putting it in his mouth.
“We spent the day packing up, since most of the kids are going home tomorrow. I had a chance to speak with Mark a few times. I also met his aunt.”
Dan set down his spoon. “What did you think of her?”
“Why does my opinion matter?”
“Because you’re good at reading people,” Dan explained, stirring his milk with his straw. “If you think she’s decent, then I can be sure that Mark and Denis will be okay with her.”
“You humble me, Daniel, with your faith. I hope I never disappoint you.” Maypenny scratched his head. “Marina Gillman is her name. She seems to be a very nice, and very determined woman. I spoke with her for a while, and I think that your boys will be happy with her. She lost touch with her brother -- their father, shortly after Julia was born. Marina and her husband have three children. They are older, two in college and one in high school. She is quite determined to keep the family together, and to introduce them to their extended family, which, I gather, is quite large.”
“What about the older brothers? The ones in jail? Mark...” Dan hesitated. “Denis is afraid of them, and I think Mark is, too.”
“From what Marina said, the older boys are half-brothers, from the boys’ mother’s first marriage. I doubt there will be contact, once the custody is settled.”
Dan finished his soup, and pushed the tray away. “Did you talk to Mark?”
“A bit.” Maypenny chuckled. “I didn’t know you when you were his age, but I’d bet you were much like him.”
“Angry and scared and trying to hide it by being a punk?” Dan asked. Maypenny nodded. Dan grinned ruefully. “Yeah. I was. My whole world was upside down, and I didn’t handle it very well.”
“Well, we talked about choices and stepping up. I told him he’d already had a crash course.” Maypenny shrugged. “I think he heard me, but I don’t know. You’re his hero, though. Your praise meant a lot to him.”
“I meant it. He’s a good kid,” Dan said, stifling a yawn. “I really hope he makes it.”
“That’s up to him, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and no.” Dan leaned back. “Sometimes, the stuff that happens to you makes it really hard to do...anything. All those guys are going to need help. They started out in the hole, and being chased through the woods didn’t help.”
“Now that’s where I think you’re wrong,” Maypenny disagreed. “The situation was bad, but those boys made it. All of you made it. I think, despite the bad parts, in the end the experience will help them.” He paused, noting Dan’s confusion. “Because, now they know that they can survive,” he explained. “That knowledge builds confidence. Confidence, in turn, builds character.”
“And character determines...success.” Dan finished the thought with another yawn, his energy flagging.
“You sleep now, son. I’m going back to the camp, but I’ll be back after the boys ship out tomorrow morning.” Maypenny rose, taking a moment to lower the bed and pull up the blankets.
“How are you getting to camp?” Dan asked drowsily. “And why? I thought there was a hotel room.”
“There is,” Maypenny told him. “Matthew is there now, and Jim will be joining us on Sunday. But, since they’re a few men short at the camp, I thought I’d stay another night. That way I can pack up your things for you.”
“I guess I won’t be going back.” A look of sadness and surprise crossed Dan’s face. “I didn’t even think about that.”
“You’ll be here until we can take you home.” Maypenny leaned in, his eyes glinting with humor. “As for how I got here, young man, I drove that Toyota you and Jim had at camp. Just because I don’t choose to drive, doesn’t mean I can’t!” He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, showing Dan his driver’s license. “See?”
Sure enough, Thomas Maypenny’s face stared back at Dan from a New York license. “Wow. How come we don’t have a car?”
“I had one, right up until it quit in 1975. Never drove the durned thing anyway, so I let Lytell cart it away. Never needed one since, but I renew the license out of habit.”
“It drives nice, doesn’t it?” Dan was fading fast. “The 4Runner, I mean.”
“It got me where I needed to be, so I guess it does fine.” Maypenny brushed his hand across Dan’s hair. “You sleep now, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here,” Dan joked, “unless I get a better offer.”
“From a blonde in a bikini?” Sven had returned in time to hear the last comment.
“I...prefer...brunettes.” Dan’s voice was soft, as he drifted. “Good...night, Dad.”
“Goodnight, son. Sleep well.” Maypenny gestured for Sven to follow him out of the room.
In the hall, he faced the burly nurse. “How is he, honestly?”
“Dr. Consintina...” Sven began cautiously.
“I’m asking you.” Maypenny folded his arms.
Sven nodded. “Well, he’s young, and he’s making steady progress. The problem is, he wants to do too much. My guess is Dr. Consintina will likely suggest moving him to a rehabilitation facility within the next two or three days.”
“Why?”
“Because Dan isn’t going to warrant twenty-four hour hospital care much longer, but the doctor won’t want to release him to go home until he can manage on his own. He needs at least another week of close medical care and likely some physical therapy. You’ll probably want to get him some counseling, too. Dr. Nakatura, the psych resident, visited him today, and I expect he’ll continue as long as Dan is here.”
Maypenny stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’d much rather keep him in one place, if possible. Either here, or move him to the hotel and continue with your services. Daniel has a counselor at home, and I’m sure she will be more than happy to see him when we return.” He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of moving him all over the place. He’s been through enough.”
“I won’t disagree, sir,” Sven said, “but insurance reimbursement is determined by a strict set of criteria, so the hospital tries hard not to keep any inpatients who don’t meet the criteria. It’s for financial reasons.”
“If that is the only reason, there isn’t a problem,” Maypenny said.
“I’d bring that up, when Dr. Consintina talks with you.”
“I will,” Maypenny said. “Will you be staying for the trip?”
“I’ll stay as long as I’m being paid,” Sven said honestly, “and since I’m being provided with a ticket home, flying to New York sounds fine to me.” He smiled. “Dan’s a good patient. Impatient, but that’s not unusual at his age. At least you don’t have to worry about him getting hooked on the pain medication. He definitely dislikes it.”
“He’s a fine lad,” Maypenny agreed. “As for the drugs, I daresay he has his reasons.” He held out his hand, and Sven shook it. “Goodnight, Sven. Thank you, and please make sure your replacement knows to call me if Daniel needs me.”
“Goodnight, sir.” Sven waited until Thomas Maypenny vanished down the hall, before returning to his sleeping patient.
July 26th
10:53 pm
It wasn’t only the pain returning that woke him, although the pain was at least a five on a scale from one to ten. No, it was the presence of an unknown figure sitting next to his bed. Dan kept his eyes closed, trying to figure out who was watching him. It was a woman, but it wasn’t Donna, the night nurse. Donna didn’t wear perfume, and this person did. It was kind of a roses and cinnamon smell. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was noticeable.
“Young man,” a low pitched, but feminine voice intoned. “If you intend to fake sleep successfully, you need to control your breathing, not just your eyes.”
Dan opened his eyes and looked into a pair of dark brown eyes, set in a round and wrinkled face framed by a braided coronet of silver-grey hair. For a moment, he was reminded of Mrs. Vanderpoel, but this lady was taller and less round, her legs stretched out in front of her, her hands resting in her lap. “Who are you?” he asked, adding a belated, “Ma’am.”
She leaned forward, extending her hand. “Margaret Gunderson. We haven’t officially met, but I believe you spent the night in my house.” As Dan shook the proffered hand, she added, “I also believe you borrowed my husband’s truck.”
Uh-oh. Dan fumbled for the bed control, raising himself into a more upright position. “I...uh...I...”
“Don’t fret yourself,” Mrs. Gunderson admonished. “I would not begrudge weary travelers food and lodging. Had I been home, I would have helped you anyway. I would’ve made you waffles.”
“Thank you?” Dan looked at the bedside clock. It read two minutes past eleven. This was too surreal. He surreptitiously poked his bandaged leg. Ow. I must be awake. “Uh...Mrs...uh...”
“Gunderson, dear.”
“Mrs. Gunderson. I’m really sorry about the truck. There was a mouse. We must have hit something, and the gears...I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t worry, dear.” She smiled at him reassuringly. “Malcolm Claxton towed the Ford into the station. He was able to repair the gears with some things he had in the back. He’s found me a new transmission, too. That truck will be better than it was when Gunter bought it.”
“Gunter?”
“My husband, dear. He passed on about an hour ago.”
Dan looked at her blankly, his original decision about his state of consciousness suddenly under serious reconsideration.
Evidently, Mrs. Gunderson recognized his confusion, for she tried to explain. “Gunter had a heart attack last Monday night. That’s why we weren’t home when you and your group stopped by, seeking shelter.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Gunderson patted Dan’s hand. “It wasn’t his first attack, and his death wasn’t entirely unexpected. The man did love his bacon. He was in the ICU for four days, and he was nearly eighty-four.”
“I’m sorry,” Dan said again.
“And again, I thank you. In a way, it was a relief. Then, I heard that you were here in the hospital, and I knew I needed to take advantage of the coincidence. I’m quite glad that Gunter and I were able to help you escape, even though we were unaware of it at the time.”
“But...but?” Dan sputtered. “But I broke into your house, we ate your food, used your things, and I stole your truck--and I broke it.”
Margaret Gunderson laughed softly. “I suppose you could see it that way. In my view, you let yourself into my house, where you would have been quite welcome, and you borrowed the truck, for which I grant my permission after the fact. No harm was done-–well, except for the truck, and that’s being fixed.”
Dan just looked at her. He couldn’t think of a single word to say. Mrs. Gunderson patted his hand again and stood. “Well, I’ve said what I came to say, dear boy. I suppose I should go before your nurse returns from her break. I have funeral arrangements to see to. Goodnight, dear. I do hope your recovery goes smoothly.”
“Goodnight.” Dan watched dumbfounded, as the lady waved and walked out the door. In desperation, he poked his leg again. The pain that radiated from the wound was welcome, as Dan tried to assure himself that he was not in the grip of some narcotic-induced hallucination.
The door opened again, but this time it was Donna who bustled in, her crepe-soled shoes whispering against the floor. “You’re awake. How’re you feeling?” she asked.
Dan looked at her blankly. “There’s no one else here, right?
Donna looked around the room. “Just you and me.”
“I’m awake, aren’t I?” Dan asked.
“Yes. You’re awake.” Donna began checking his vitals, and Dan sat passively, still confused. “Your heart rate is up a bit. Are you in pain?”
Dan nodded, bringing his attention back into focus. “A little,” he admitted. “And I need to use the bathroom. Could you get me the walker, please?”
“Of course.” Donna moved quickly, helping Dan out of the bed, and steadying him as he made his way across the room. Once he had finished, she helped him back to bed and prepared his next dose of pain relief. He took it without complaint, and returned to sleep even as the nurse was checking him over one more time.
