Tuesday, July 31, 1984

Sleepyside

        “Tess?”  Trixie knocked briefly before entering her cousin’s bedroom, an envelope in her hand.  The room was empty, boxes stacked neatly under the window.  Tessa’s red notebook was open on the bed, and Trixie couldn’t resist.  She sat down on the colorful quilt, and let her eyes wander towards the journal page.

Dear Kane,

It’s almost moving day again.  It’s for the best, I suppose, but it does get tiring, being moved around like a piece of furniture.  Over the next few days I’ll be moving from my uncle’s house to my aunt’s house.  It is literally up the road, but it feels like a million miles away.  I wish I had someone to talk to, but they’re all distracted anyway.  My cousin Jim and his friend were missing for a while.  The friend, Dan, got shot, and everyone is all freaked out.  I was too, for obvious reasons.  For a moment I let myself...

        A door slammed down the hall, and Trixie forced her eyes away from the page.  Tessa’s journal was her private business, and Trixie felt a surge of shame at her own nosiness.  Rising, she pulled the card out of the envelope, touching the blue daisies on the front, reading the words again.  This was private, too, and Trixie was certain she wouldn’t want anyone reading the words Jim had written to her. 

        With a secret smile, she clutched the card to her chest, and nearly floated out of the room.  She couldn’t help but wonder, though:  Who is Kane?

Thursday, August 2, 1984

Spokane, WA

        “Are you sure we can all be in there at the same time?” Dan asked.  He used his crutches to pull himself out of the wheelchair, ignoring Sven’s steadying hand on his arm.

        Sven nodded.  “Yep.  I’m not going in, though, just you three.  I’m taking my break.”  He grinned at Maypenny and Jim.  “This guy,” he said, pointing at Dan, “has just about run me ragged going up and down the halls.  I need a break.”

        Dan returned the nurse’s grin.  “I thought there was no whining in front of the parental unit,” he said.

        “He’s not my parental unit,” Sven countered, opening the door to the Critical Care Step-Down unit.  “Enjoy your visit.”

        Ted had the third of five rooms.  He was sitting up in bed, looking pale and weak, and very much alive.  He turned as they entered, a smile on his face. “Hey, boys.  It’s good to see you.”

        “Ted,” Jim stepped toward the bed.  “You look better than you did last time I saw you.”

        “Thanks to you two,” Ted said soberly.  “I owe you my life.”  He waited while Jim arranged chairs and helped Dan get comfortable.  “I also owe you an explanation.”

        Ted’s eyes wandered to Maypenny, and Dan hastened to introduce them.  “Ted, this is my father, Thomas Maypenny.  Dad, this is Ted Jannings.”

        Maypenny extended his hand.  “Pleased to meet you.”

        Dan tried to ignore the twinges running up and down his leg.  “So,” he asked. “What did you want to explain, Ted?”

        “Billy.”  Ted leaned back against his pillows.  “Truly, I had no idea what he was up to.  Not even a clue.  How much do you know?”

        Jim and Dan exchanged a look.  “Not much,” Jim admitted.  “The police talked to us, but they didn’t really tell us anything.  We did hear him call you his father.”

        Ted sighed.  “True enough.  When I was a senior in high school, I got my girlfriend pregnant.  Graduation night, actually.  I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say, I never knew.  She was a grade behind me, and I was headed off across the country to college.  We had already decided to end our relationship.  When Stacie found out she was pregnant, I was already at school.  She went to Florida and stayed with her aunt.  When Billy was born, she put him up for adoption.  She never told me.”

        “How did you find out?”  Dan asked.

        “About seven years ago, Billy showed up on my doorstep and introduced himself.  I had graduated from college, married my wife and moved here to run the camp.  There I am, with a wife and four children, and this young man shows up and tells me I am his father.”  Ted shook his head.  “Preston helped me confirm it, and we ended up offering Billy a job.  I wanted to get to know him; I guess I felt guilty.”  Ted rubbed his face.  “We tried, I swear.  Carmen didn’t hold Billy against me.  She made sure he always had a place at our table and a bed in our house.  But Billy, well, he can only handle responsibility for a short amount of time.  I thought it was just irresponsibility, but I see now that he was using the camp as his cover.”

        “He was robbing banks.”  Jim stated the fact, and Ted nodded.

        “Evidently he and Vince had quite the successful operation going.  Right up until June.”

        “When we arrived.”  Jim shot Dan another look, and Dan shrugged. “I don’t understand how Dan and I messed with Billy’s plans.”

        “You didn’t.”  Ted gathered his thoughts.  “Billy and Vince did that themselves.  Generally, they would get around fifteen to twenty thousand dollars from each heist.  When they hit Yakima National, they took nearly one hundred thousand--and Billy shot the security guard.  They panicked.  Evidently Billy got the idea of using you two to get the money through the roadblock.  Since he was scheduled to pick you up, he called camp and pretended to be Jim.  I called Bill back to camp.  He left Vince there to watch for you.  Vince was supposed to plant the money in your luggage, but when you rented the car, he decided to hide it there.  He followed you, and retrieved the cash, but, according to Billy, he got creative and sabotaged your engine.”

        “And he lost the key.”  Dan said.

        “Exactly.”  Ted sighed.  “There they were, with a ton of money and no way to get it into the safe deposit box--nor any way to get the rest of the money out of the box.”

        “Billy was searching our cabin when Kris walked in, right?” Dan asked.

        “Yes.  He admitted to that.  How did you know?

        “I didn’t, until just now,” Dan admitted.  “But it makes sense.  We never told Billy who needed to go down to the clinic, but Billy knew it was Kris.”

        “Billy’s also the one who hit Vince with the skillet.  They were both drunk, and their disagreement got out of hand.”  Ted stopped, collecting himself.  “I really think that Billy regretted that.  He seemed remorseful.”

        “Has he shown remorse over shooting his own father?”  Thomas Maypenny’s voice was deceptively calm.  “Did he show any regret over terrorizing a group of youngsters, chasing them through the woods?  What about shooting my son and leaving him to bleed to death outside a gas station?”

        “No.”  Ted closed his eyes.  “No, he didn’t.  And I doubt he ever will.  I, however, am very sorry.”

        The room went still.

        “You aren’t responsible for what Billy did.”  It was Jim who broke the uneasy silence.  “My father showed me that.  None of us are responsible for Billy’s actions.  He made his choices.  We made ours.”

        “Yes.  Yes you did, and I am most grateful you chose not to leave me behind.  But I should have seen it.  I’m a trained professional.”  Ted’s voice was full of regret. “In retrospect, Bill showed signs of being a sociopath.”

        “I thought sociopaths were difficult to identify,” Dan said.

        “They can be.  But I’ve had a few days to reflect on the situation.  The psychiatrist believes that Bill is an alienated sociopath, unable to love, empathize or relate to another person:  Narcissistic, unreliable and never, ever accepting blame.  That’s Bill in a nutshell, and I missed it.”  Ted shrugged.  “I missed it.”

        “Everybody missed it, dear.  You weren’t the only one.”  The female voice took all four men by surprise.

        “Mrs. Jannings.” Jim stood up as a tall woman with dark hair and eyes entered the room.  Maypenny also rose, and Dan started to, remembering too late that getting up without assistance was a bad idea.

        “Ow,” he said with a wince, settling back on his chair.  “Sorry, Mrs. Jannings.”

        “Don’t be silly, Dan. You’ll hurt yourself,” she chided.  “Sit down, Jim.”  The woman approached Maypenny with an outstretched hand.  “I’m Carmen Jannings, Ted’s wife.”

        “Thomas Maypenny,” he replied, “Daniel’s father.”  He shook her hand, and guided her into his vacant chair.

        “Thank you,” Carmen said with a smile for the older man. “I see where your son gets his manners.”

        Dan blushed.  Jim grinned at his friend’s discomfiture, but sobered when he noticed the lines of pain etching Dan’s forehead.  “Ted, Mrs. Jannings, I think Dan and I should leave.  We’re kind of pushing the visitor boundaries.”

        Maypenny agreed.  “Indeed we are, and if we’re going to convince the doctor to let Daniel leave tomorrow, we’d best not let him overdo it.”

        “True.”  Ted leaned forward.  “I just want the two of you to know that I would have you back as counselors in a heartbeat.  The summer jobs are yours next year, if you want them.  We also have a winter snow camp in February, if you’re interested.”

        “Thank you, sir,” Jim said.  “Next summer is a possibility for me, but I start college this fall, so...” He looked at Dan.

        “I’m going to be taking college classes while attending high school,” Dan said, trying to keep his voice level. “So winter is probably out, but I’d be interested in next summer, if you can promise me a less exciting ending.” He managed a small grin.  “It was a really good experience, mostly.”

        “I’m glad it was mostly good,” Ted said, “and I apologize again for the way it ended. Thank you, boys, for everything.”

        Jim rose and walked to the door, opening it to reveal a waiting Sven.  The hired nurse pushed the wheelchair into the already cramped room, and carefully helped Dan into it.  “Lunch and a nap,” he said cheerfully.  “Say goodbye, Daniel.”

        “Goodbye, Daniel,” Dan repeated obediently.

        As Sven wheeled Dan out the door, Jim looked back at Mr. Maypenny.

        “I’ll catch up,” the older man said.  Jim nodded, and closed the door.

        Carmen watched them leave, concern in her large brown eyes.  “Is Dan all

        right?”

Maypenny nodded.  “He’s doing well, but he pushes himself too hard, and it’s almost time for more pain medication.  Daniel isn’t one for taking it easy, so this recovery process is hard on him.”

        “You must be proud of your son,” Ted said.  “He’s a fine young man.”

        “I am proud of him,” Maypenny said.  “He is indeed a fine young man, but I can’t take credit for that.  He came to me with a solid foundation.  He just wandered off the path a little.”

        “Well, he seems to be on the right road, now,” Ted said.  “You must have had some influence in that.”

        Maypenny shrugged. “It is kind of you to say so.”  He extended his hand first to Carmen, and then to Ted.  “It has been a pleasure to meet both of you.  I am hopeful that Daniel will be released tomorrow.  If that happens, we’ll be returning home on Saturday.  If I don’t see you again, I wish you a speedy recovery.”

        “Thank you.”  Carmen reached for her husband’s hand.  “Have a safe trip home, all of you.”

        Maypenny raised his hand in salutation, and walked away.

Friday, August 3, 1984

3:30 pm

Spokane, WA

        “Why do I have to ride out of here?” Dan asked.  “I’ve been using the crutches for days.  Why is the walk from here to the door forbidden?”

        “Hospital policy.”  The orderly, a woman who might have been attractive had her lips not been pressed so tightly together, was clearly not in the mood for discussion.

        Both Jim and Maypenny were out of the room, and Sven wasn’t on call until later, having altered his shift in order to accompany them on the plane.  Alone, Dan decided to give in, peacefully if not gracefully.  Allowing the grim-faced orderly to load him into the chair, he reached for his crutches.

        “Are those yours?” the orderly asked, “Or do they belong to the hospital?”

        “They’re mine, ma’am,” Dan answered politely, thinking, almost out of here.  Almost out.  “My father bought them from the hospital supply store in town.  He wanted wooden ones so we can burn them for firewood this winter.”

        Dan’s attempt at humor was lost on the orderly. “Hmmm.  Private nurses, personal crutches.  Why not?” she muttered, propping the crutches against the wall, just out of reach. “Well, I’ll need to see a receipt before you leave.  Do you have it?”

        “No, ma’am.  My father probably has it.”

        “Wait here.  I’ll find your father.”  At the door, she turned, and realizing she was leaving him stranded, picked up a newspaper from the counter, and dropped it on his lap before disappearing.

        Frustrated, Dan opened the paper and started scanning the articles.  Political happenings on page one.  Dull.  Miss America posing in Penthouse. Interesting.  The Hinckley guy who shot the President petitions for release.  Not likely. The Olympics had started in Los Angeles.  With the Russians boycotting, how exciting can that be?  Thumbing through the pages, a black and white photo caught Dan’s eye.  A handsome young man in a Naval uniform stared out at him from the Obituary page.

 

Gunter O. Gunderson

11/19/00 -- 7/26/84

Gunter O. Gunderson, USN Lt. Commander, ret., and long time Spokane resident died Thursday evening of congestive heart failure.  Mr. Gunderson served in both WW I and WWII, before retiring from service in 1952.  He and his wife, Margaret Gunderson (nee Parsons) moved to Spokane in 1953.  Gunderson was an avid outdoorsman, and a member of the Spokane Raiders, a classic car club.  He is survived by his wife, Margaret, sons Michael and Phillip, daughter Annalisa and eight grandchildren.  Services will be held Friday, at Faith Lutheran Church in Deer Park.  A memorial service will be

held following internment at the VFW Hall.

        Dan read the obituary twice, in disbelief.  Margaret Gunderson, his late night visitor had been real.  He was still trying to absorb the information, when the door opened and Jim dashed in.

        Let’s get out of here,” Jim said, “Before Mr. Maypenny strangles an orderly.” Dan quickly folded the newspaper as Jim grabbed the crutches. “Do you want me to toss that?” Jim asked, pointing to the newspaper.

        “Sure.”  Dan started to hand the paper over to his friend, but stopped.  “On second thought, I think I’ll hold on to it.”  He tucked the paper under his arm, as Jim started wheeling him to the door.  “So, why is my father going to strangle an orderly?”

        “She asked him to show proof of purchase for your crutches,” Jim explained, a grin creeping across his face.  “But she forgot to say please...”

Author’s Notes

Healing 5

Index

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