A Father’s Love

 

*A Father’s Love takes Johnny and Trevor forward in time five years, to the summer of 2007. This doesn’t mean that there might not be future stories with Trevor as a little boy, but for this story Johnny and Trevor are dealing with the volatile teen years.

 

*As always, thank you for your interest in my work. It’s been a pleasure to get to know so many of you.

 

*I must thank Ria for the beautiful picture she provided for this story. If you’d like to send Ria feedback regarding her drawing, you may do so by clicking on her name – Ria. As well, thank you to, Audrey, Chuck, and Icecat for assistance in getting the picture formatted for the cover page. More thank you’s to those who assisted with A Father’s Love, appear at the end of part 4. 

 

*For those of you who might be new to this Website, Trevor Gage first appears in Dancing with the Devil, and then in several other stories including The Phantom and the Parselmouth, Firefighter’s Tears, and Uncle Johnny Santa Claus.  As well, reference is made in this story to the This Old House trilogy that appears in my Emergency Fan Fiction Library.

 

* Adult language is occasionally present in A Father’s Love.

 

 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

            “But why?”

 

     “Because I said so.”

 

     “Pops!”

 

     “Don’t stand there and ‘Pops’ me using that tone, young man.”

 

     “But that’s not an answer to my question.”

 

     “What’s not an answer to your question?”

 

     “ ‘Because I said so.’ It’s not an answer, it’s a copout.”

 

     “In this case, it’s an answer.”

 

     “That’s not fair and you know it!”

 

     John Gage shut the door to his office. Trevor had stopped at the Eagle Harbor Fire Station on his way home from school, as had been his habit since he’d started kindergarten. But kindergarten was ten years in the past now, and no longer did Trevor’s after-school visits revolve solely around cookies, a glass of milk, and time spent with his father before Clarice took him home.

 

     Johnny turned to face the young man who had turned fifteen just a week ago, on May fourteenth. The past year had brought about a growth spurt in the teenager that meant Trevor and his father were now within four inches of being able to look one another in the eye. Johnny estimated that Trevor would be two or three inches taller than him by the time Trev reached his full height.  But regardless of that, Johnny was still his father, and always would be.  Lately, Trev needed to be reminded of that on a frequent basis.

 

     “Trevor, you might as well get used to the fact that life isn’t always fair, and you don’t always get to do everything you want to, regardless of whether you’re fifteen years old, or sixty years old.”

 

     The teenager scowled. He gave an angry swipe at the thick, dark bangs that had fallen into his eyes.  “I just don’t understand why you won’t let me go.”

 

     “I’ve already told you why I won’t let you go.  I’ve told several times in the last couple of weeks. Nagging me about it isn’t gonna change my answer.”

 

     “But all my friends—“

 

     Johnny held up a hand. “Yeah, I know.  All your friends are going.  So you’ve told me more than once. However, the answer is still no.”

 

     “It’s just a concert. I don’t see why—“

 

     “I’ve told you why.”

 

     “But your reason is stupid!”

 

     Johnny pointed a stern finger under the boy’s noise.  “Trevor Roy, you’d better remember who you’re talking to.”

 

     “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

 

     “You don’t sound like you’re sorry.”

 

     “I just want to know why you won’t—“

 

     “Trevor, for the tenth time in ten days, here’s the rundown.  I’m not gonna let you go to Anchorage in a vehicle with nine other kids, that includes a driver who has only had his license for two months, see a concert, and then stay in a hotel and not return until the next day.”

 

     “But why? And don’t tell me, ‘because I said so.’”

 

     “Okay,” Johnny said as he held up three fingers and began counting off. “Here are three reasons right off the top of my head.  One; no sixteen-year-old who has had his license for just two months has any business hauling a car full of kids five hundred miles.”

 

     “He’s not using a car.  He’s using his parents’ mini-van.”

 

     Johnny just glared at his son for that remark before continuing.

 

“I’ve been on the scene of too many accidents over the last thirty-six years not to know what can happen when you mix an inexperienced driver and his friends. He can lose his concentration, and the next thing you know—“

 

     “Connor’s a good driver.  He—“

 

     Johnny scowled.  “How do you know Connor’s a good driver?”

 

     “Uh...I just do.  That’s all.”

 

     “You’re better not have been riding with him. I told you you’re not to accept a ride from Connor until he’s got more time behind the wheel.”

 

     “I didn’t,” Trevor lied, while at the same time thankful that no one in this small hamlet of Eagle Harbor had seen him riding in Connor’s pickup truck after school the previous Wednesday.  Or at least if anyone had, that person evidently hadn’t said anything to his father about it.

 

     Although Johnny suspected his son was lying to him, he let it pass for now.  As his father had always said, eventually you’ll catch the pig at the trough. Yes, it was an old-fashioned expression for the current times, but where teenage boys were concerned, it still held true.

 

     “Reason two. I don’t like the message that group you want to see sends, so—“

 

     “Pops! You’re so old-fashioned.”

 

     “Trevor, a basic sense of what’s decent isn’t old-fashioned. You don’t even like their music.  You just wanna go because you’re friends are going.”

    

     “I do too like their music!”

 

     Johnny wasn’t going to debate that issue as he held up three fingers now. “And three, at your age, you have no business getting a hotel room for the night with a group that includes girls.”

 

     “But the girls are gonna sleep in the two beds, and us guys are gonna bring sleeping bags and bunk on the floor.”

 

     “I don’t care what the sleeping arrangements are. The answer is no, and I can’t believe the parents of those girls are gonna allow this.”

 

     “Well, they are, because they’re cool.  They’re not old and strict like you!”

 

     “Trev—“

 

     “I’m only saying what’s true.”

 

     “That I’m old and not cool?”

 

     “Yeah.”

 

     Johnny had to hide his smile. God knew there had been a time in his life when he never imagined himself being ‘old’ and ‘not cool’ in anyone’s eyes.  But, the fact of the matter was, he was sixty-years-old and raising a fifteen-year-old son.  Until recently, Johnny hadn’t felt his age, and his son hadn’t seemed to notice.  But now, on many days, Johnny felt every one of his sixty years, thanks to the trials and tribulations given him by his teenager.

 

     “Okay, so I’m old and not cool.”

 

     “And strict.”

 

     “Thank you.”

 

     “What?”

 

     Johnny grinned.  “You can’t give me a better compliment as your father than to accuse me of being strict.”

 

     Trevor balled his hands into fists and pounded them against his thighs.  “You make me so mad sometimes.”

 

     “I realize that, and I’m sorry. But the answer to this trip to Anchorage, as you now have it arranged, is still no, and will continue to be no.”

 

     “Then how can I arrange it so you say yes?”

     “If I take you there—“

 

     “No way!”

 

     “Just hear me out.  If I take you there, drop you off, and pick you up when the concert is over, then I’ll consider it.”

 

     “But it’ll be way too long of a drive to come back home that night.”

 

     “We can stay at the hotel you were talking about.  Talk to the girls about getting a room of their own, and then us guys can—“

 

     “No!” Trevor shook his head as though he couldn’t imagine a greater horror. “You can’t come with me! No one else’s parents are coming.”

 

     In contrast to his son’s shouts, Johnny’s voice was calm and even-toned.  “Look, I’ve given you a reasonable alternative, despite the fact that I don’t think you have any business paying to see a concert put on by that group anyway. I can drive you there, you can meet your friends, and then I’ll pick you up when the concert is over. Or, some of the kids can ride with you and me, and Connor can follow us in the mini-van with the rest of the kids.  We can book two rooms at the hotel, guys in one room, girls in the other.”

 

     “They’ll laugh at me.”

 

     “Who will laugh at you?”

 

     “My friends. Everything’s co-ed now. Sleepovers and stuff like that. Nothing’s going to happen.”

 

     “Trevor, I will not have my fifteen-year-old son shacking up in a hotel room with four girls.”

 

     The teenager was furious at what he viewed as his father’s attempt to thwart his social life.  As he yanked the door open he asked,  “Like you shacked up with my mother, you mean?”

 

     “Trev—“

 

     The boy slammed the door so hard that the pane of glass it contained rattled in its frame.  Johnny watched through the window that faced the rear parking lot. Trevor jerked his shoulders into the backpack he’d left looped over the handles of his twelve-speed, hopped on the mountain bike, and furiously peddled toward home.

 

     Johnny sighed as he walked around the desk and sank into his big leather chair. He glanced up at the pictures of his son he had on one row of shelves.  His eyes landed on a photograph the police chief, Carl Mjtko, had taken the previous summer at the town picnic.  Johnny was seated on a bench. On impulse, Trevor had come up behind him, bent down so their faces were even with one another, and wrapped an arm around Johnny’s shoulders.  It was that moment, when Johnny and Trevor were wearing twin grins, that the picture was snapped.  Raising Trevor had still been so easy then, just ten short months ago.  Until recently, Trevor had never given Johnny any problems, and the worst that could be said about him was that he was an active boy filled with a curiosity about the world that sometimes caused his common sense to take a backseat.  But then, Johnny had been the same as a child, and as a young man well into his twenties. Therefore, he was confident that given time and maturity, Trevor’s common sense would eventually begin to assert itself.

 

     Johnny’s eyes scanned the other pictures that covered Trevor’s life from infancy right up to the most recent school picture that had been taken in the fall of 2006, Trevor’s freshman year at Eagle Harbor High School.  He sighed again when his mind replayed the argument that had just occurred. The burden of raising a teenager alone was, at times, a heavy one to bear.  Much heavier than Johnny had ever imagined it would be.  And here he’d thought the difficult years of single parenting – the years that included middle of the night bottle feedings and diaper changes, the years that included the Terrible Twos and potty training, the years that included skinned knees, tonsillitis, and ear infections, were behind him.  Only now was John Gage beginning to discover that those years had been easy, and that the difficult years were just beginning.

 

     Johnny raked a hand through his thick hair that had recently begun to gray beyond his temples.  If he looked in a mirror he knew he’d see fine lines around his eyes and mouth, and the beginning of some wrinkles taking up residence in his neck.

 

     “What the hell was I thinking, becoming a father at forty-five?” the fire chief questioned while recalling the ridiculous argument he’d just engaged in with a son four and a half decades his junior.  “I’m too damn old for this shit.  Too damn old to be fighting with a teenager over a stupid rock concert.” 

 

     The man stood when he heard voices out in the hallway as people passed his office. He did his best to smile when several men gave him a wave through the glass and a, “Hi, Chief.” It was almost time for the Police and Fire Commission meeting to start in the conference room at the other end of the building.  A meeting that would contain men all near his own age, whose kids were long grown, and who, like his good friend Roy DeSoto, were grandfathers several times over by now.

 

     “I’m just too damn old,” Johnny mumbled.

 

The fire chief was reminded of that fact all the more as he slipped on his reading glasses and exited the office, while limping slightly because the leg he’d broken when he was hit by that car thirty-three years ago sometimes bothered him. Johnny had laughed at Joe Early when the doctor had warned him that someday, when he was older, the leg might give him trouble on occasion.  Not that he hadn’t believed the man, but it was just that, at the age of twenty-seven, Johnny couldn’t imagine reaching the point in life when an old injury would come back to haunt him. 

 

I wish Doctor Early had warned me about potential problems with teenagers back then, Johnny thought as the entered the conference room and took his place at the head of the table.  He resisted the urge to smile over the last thought that came to him right before he called the meeting to order.

 

Aw, hell, I probably wouldn’t have listened to him anyway.

 

 

____________________

 

     Trevor was in his father’s home office. He sat in the desk’s chair with it turned facing the sidearm that held the computer. This was another thing that ticked him off.  All his friends had computers in their bedrooms, and most of them had TV sets in their rooms, too, and several had phones with their own private lines.  But his father wouldn’t allow Trevor any of those privileges, not even when Trevor said he’d pay for those things with his own money.  Pops had still said no, and then said if Trevor had those he’d be “holed up in his room away from the family.”  Trev knew he’d hurt his father a lot that night a few weeks ago when he’d yelled, “What family?  It’s just you and me! There’s not a family here,” but he’d never apologized for his words, and like a lot of things between himself and his father lately, the angry words hung heavy in the air for several days before the Gage men moved onto a new argument.

 

     Trevor logged onto the Internet.  He could hear Clarice working in the kitchen, preparing supper for himself and his father. Despite the fact that she was now seventy-four years old, she still came to the Gage household several days a week to clean, cook, and do laundry, and she was always there when Trevor arrived home from school on the days his father worked. When Johnny pulled an overnight shift, Clarice used the bedroom that was considered hers when needed, that was situated in a hallway behind the dining room.  Trevor thought of Clarice as a beloved grandmother and would never say anything to hurt her, but sometimes he resented her presence.  He was old enough to stay by himself now when his father was at work, but that was another issue Pops wasn’t giving in on. 

 

     “Clarice would be here when you got home from school if she was your mother,” Pops had said.

 

     “But she’s not my mother,” Trevor pointed out in return. “She’s not my mother, and I’m old enough to be here by myself.”

 

     “Sometimes you are here by yourself,” his father had reminded him. “But for the most part, I feel better knowing Clarice and you are here together keeping one another company while I’m at work.”

 

     “What if I don’t want company?” Trevor had challenged.

 

     “Then at those times go to your room and shut the door,” Pops had snapped back in a tone that told Trevor to cool it and keep his smart mouth to himself.

 

     After Trevor logged into his e-mail account he watched as the messages downloaded.  He had one from Kylee, a girl he went to school with that he liked a lot. Trevor was pretty sure Kylee liked him a lot too, though when he told her he couldn’t go the concert she’d probably lose interest in him in favor of some guy whose father wasn’t so old and strict. 

 

     The next e-mail was from Connor. Trevor didn’t open it, just like he didn’t open Kylee’s. He knew all they’d be talking about was the Memorial Day weekend trip to Anchorage, and Connor probably wanted Trevor to meet him in a chat room later that night to discuss it.  Trevor didn’t know when or how he was going to break the news to his friends that he couldn’t go, so for the time being he ignored their messages.     

 

     The last e-mail that had come while he was at school was from Trevor’s mother.  He smiled as he opened it.  Until this winter, Trevor hadn’t thought too much about his mother one way or another.  Yes, he loved her, but his father was his custodial parent, and his visits with his mother, who lived in New York City, encompassed only two weeks out of each year.  It had only been since January that Trevor had begun to really get to know his mom through e-mail communications and phone calls – both things becoming more frequent than they had been in the past.  Part of this came from Trevor’s increasing desire to get to know the woman who had given birth to him on a deeper level than what he previously had, and part of this new-found desire to connect with his mom came from the rift growing between himself and his father. 

 

     Mom’s e-mail was filled with chatty news about her job as a cardiac surgeon, about Trevor’s stepfather, Franklin, and about the three-year-old sister Trevor now had, that Mom and Franklin had adopted when Catherine, as they had named her, was just four days old. The adoption had shocked and angered Trevor’s father for reasons Trevor didn’t know, and Pops refused to reveal.  But Trevor had seen the look on his father’s face when he’d rushed to greet him with an excited, “Papa, I have a new sister!” when his pops had arrived home from work on the day three years earlier that Mom had called to tell Trevor he was a big brother.  A few days later, Trevor had overheard a small portion of a conversation his father and Clarice were having about Catherine.  To this day Trevor still didn’t know why his father had been upset over his mother adopting a child, nor did he know what his father meant when he’d said to Clarice, “She didn’t want that responsibility before. I don’t understand why things are suddenly so different. What’s the deal?  Because it’s now fashionable for wealthy women pushing fifty to have an infant, she had to go out and get herself one?”

 

A then twelve-year-old Trevor had slipped out the back door without his father or Clarice seeing him.  Based on his father’s words, he’d come to the conclusion that his mother must have thought of adopting a child in the past, but had changed her mind for some reason.  His years as Eagle Harbor’s fire and paramedic chief had made Pops big on responsibility, so Trevor assumed his father was judging his mother based on those criteria.

    

     Trevor’s mother had included more links for colleges in the New England area.  He hadn’t told his father yet that he was thinking of attending college out east, and for now there was no reason to.  He still had three years of high school left to finish.  A discussion about college locations could wait at least

another year. Franklin and Mom were even going to pay for his college education if he attended school on the east coast, though Trevor hadn’t told his father that yet, either.  He had a feeling Pops wouldn’t be too happy about it, and the teenager couldn’t understand why. Franklin and Mom earned an income that easily enabled them to pay for his college education, while for his father it would be more of a financial burden.  But, Pops had a lot of pride that way, and Trevor knew his father had been saving for his college education since the day he’d been born, so again, it was a discussion best saved for the future.  Maybe a discussion his father and mother needed to have face to face, rather than Trevor having to talk to his father about it without his mother’s support.

 

     The teenager read his mother’s e-mail through a second time, but didn’t send her a reply.  He’d do that later.  For now, he chose to send an e-mail to the one person who’d grown to become his closest friend and confidante.  The one person he could tell all of his problems to while having faith she’d understand, in the same way she had faith that he understood all of her problems. As they navigated their teen years, he without a mother in his home and she without a father in hers, they’d found their friendship had grown even stronger than it had been when they were playmates.

 

____________________

 

 

      

Hi Libby,

 

     How are things going? School will be out in three weeks here. Do you get that job you applied for at the Gap?

 

     Sometimes I hate my pops. He really made me mad today.  He won’t let me go to the Boys in Bondage concert in Anchorage with my friends. They’re going to think I’m a total dorko and baby when I tell them.  He’s so old fashioned.  I wish Pops were younger like my friends’ parents, and like your mom.  He’d understand better what it’s like to be a teenager if he was.  He worries about such dumb stuff that’s never going to happen, like a car accident, just because my friend Connor is going to drive. No matter what I say, Pops won’t listen.  I hate it when he gets like that.

 

Talk to you later.

 

Trevor

 

P.S. I guess I don’t really hate Pops, but he sure pisses me off sometimes.

 

Chapter 2

 

     As was her habit, Clarice left for the house she shared with her son in town when Johnny arrived home at six-thirty that night.  Johnny and Trevor sat down at the kitchen table to eat supper at quarter to seven. The light and easy conversations that had normally been a part of each meal father and son shared were now oftentimes strained, depending on what had transpired between the two during the day.  Based on the cold shoulder Johnny was getting from his son as they filled their plates, he had this meal’s conversation pegged as ‘strained’ before it even started.

 

     “So, how was your day?” Johnny asked after he’d swallowed his first mouthful of lasagna.

 

     Trevor’s eyes never left his plate.  “Fine, until I stopped to see you.”

 

     Johnny refused to rise to the bait.

 

     “Did you feed the animals?”

 

     “What do you think?”

 

     “That tone of voice is gonna get you in big trouble with me before this day is over, young man, if it doesn’t change and change pretty darn quick.“

 

     Trevor hazarded a glance at his father and saw the rising fury shining from Johnny’s eyes.

 

     “I just meant that you ask me that question every night and the answer is always yes, so why do you have to keep asking me like I’m some kinda little kid who doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do?”

 

     “I realize that you know what to do—“

 

     “Then why do you keep treating me like a baby by asking me that night after night?”

 

     “Trev, I’m not treating you like a baby.”

 

     “Yes, you are.  You think you can somehow keep a little kid forever. Keep me your little boy forever.  Well, I’m not your little boy anymore, Pops.”

 

     “No, you’re not a little boy anymore, but you’re still my son.”

 

     “I know that, but I wish you’d treat me like I’m fifteen, instead of like I’m five.”

 

     “I think I do.”

 

     “Well, I don’t!”

 

     “In what way don’t I treat you like your fifteen?”

 

     “You’re always checkin’ up on me, asking me if I’ve done the chores, or my homework, or made my bed. You still have Clarice come here every day after school to baby-sit me, and you won’t let me go to Anchorage with my—“

 

     Johnny pointed the tines of his fork at his son. “Don’t start that again.”

 

     “But—“

 

     “Trev, for both of our sakes, drop it.”

 

     “Okay, fine!”  Trevor threw silverware onto the table and pushed his chair away from the table.  “Fine.  I’m dropping it.”

 

     “Sit down and finish eating.”

 

     “I’m not hungry.”

 

     “Sit down and finish eating.”

 

     “I already said I’m not—“

 

     “Trevor, if I have to get up out of this chair you’re not gonna to like the consequences.”

 

     Trevor studied his father, attempting to gauge just what the man meant by that.  His father had only used spanking as a form of punishment on rare occasions, and at that, Trevor hadn’t felt Johnny’s hand on his rear-end since he was ten years old.  He didn’t think his father would employ that method of punishment now, but something about the way his father’s mouth was set in a grim line made Trevor sit back down.

 

     Johnny’s, “Thank you,” received no response from his sullen teenager.

 

     The only sounds throughout the remainder of the meal came when Trevor’s fork would smack his plate as he stabbed at his food. It wasn’t until father and son rose to clear the dishes that Johnny attempted to start a conversation again.

 

     “You have a track meet after school tomorrow, right?”

 

     “Yeah.”

 

     “Okay, I’ll be there about three-thirty then.”

 

     “You don’t have to come.”

 

     “I always come to your track meets.  And besides, I want to.”

 

     “You don’t have to.”

 

     “Son—“

 

     “Pops, I don’t want you there tomorrow, okay? I just...I don’t want you there this time.”

 

     Trevor deposited the plates on the counter and headed for the stairs that would take him to his bedroom. He wasn’t leaving the kitchen because he was angry with his father.  He was leaving because he couldn’t stand to see the hurt he’d just caused to appear on the man’s face.

 

____________________

 

 

     Trevor was in his room with his door closed when the phone rang at eight-thirty that night.  Johnny aimed the remote control at the television and hit the mute button. The cessation of sound allowed him to hear the music coming from overhead.  Trevor had a Boys in Bondage CD in his stereo. Johnny knew that CD didn’t belong to his son, and had likely been borrowed from Connor.  He also knew it had been put in as a display of defiance.  He sighed as he picked up the phone, fully expecting the caller to be one of Trevor’s friends.  Rather than that being the case, however, the caller was instead, John Gage’s oldest friend, and the one to whom he was closest, despite the miles that separated them.

 

     “Hi, Johnny.”

 

     Johnny smiled. “Hey, Roy.”

 

     The men spent a few minutes catching up with one another since the last time they’d talked a month earlier, and then shot the bull about their respective jobs.  Roy was still serving as a paramedic instructor for the Los Angeles Fire Department, though the hours the job required meant that he considered himself semi-retired.

 

     “So, are you about ready to pack it in for good and retire after this session ends, Pally?” Johnny asked, knowing that Roy has been mulling over that possibility since January.

 

     “No. Decided to stick it out another year.”

 

     “Oh really? Why?”

 

     “Since Libby has one more year of high school left, Joanne and I wanna be available when Jennifer needs us.  We figure there’s no use in either one of us retiring until next summer. But after that, we’ll be ready to quit our jobs and do some traveling.  The day after Libby graduates next June, I plan to be headed your way for a nice long tour of Alaska.”

 

     “Sounds great. You and Jo can make this your home base while you’re here. Stay as long as you’d like.  I’ve got plenty of room.”

 

     “Thanks.  We’ll take you up on that.  It’s been a long time coming.”

 

     “Yeah, it has been,” Johnny agreed. “You deserve to enjoy the life leisure.”

 

     Just like Johnny was the father to a teenager, in many ways Roy was a father to his granddaughter, Olivia, who would turn seventeen in June. Like Trevor, Libby was now old enough to be left home alone, but on nights that her mother was on duty at Rampart Hospital, or when her mother worked the weekend shift, she stayed with Roy and Joanne.  Although Roy and Joanne’s assistance with raising Libby had diminished to a degree once she’d entered high school, they were still very involved in her life.

 

     “I’m ready for the life of leisure,” Roy said with a chuckle.  “I sure hope that come this time next year, I’ve raised my last teenager.”

 

     “Tell me about it.”

 

     Roy’s comment had been made half in jest.  Overall, Libby had given him few challenges. Granted, he didn’t like her taste in music and television shows, and he thought some of her clothes looked downright silly, but she was a good student who was involved in numerous school and church activities.  She had her head on straight, and had made wise and mature decisions as she’d navigated her way through her high school years. 

 

     “What’s wrong?” Roy had picked up on the tone in Johnny’s voice that told him something was bothering the man. “Is everything all right with Trevor?”

 

     “Depends on the moment.”

 

     “Whatta ya’ mean?”

     Like he had done when they worked together thirty-five years ago, Johnny poured his problems with Trevor out to Roy in one long spiel that caused Roy to wonder if he’d even stopped to take a breath. And, just like thirty-fives ago, Roy was able to calm his friend with some quiet, levelheaded advice.

 

     “You gotta pick your battles, Junior.”

 

     “Huh?”

 

     “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from raising three teenagers, four if you count Libby, is that you have to pick your battles. Trevor’s just yearning for some independence. You know - wants the opportunity to separate himself from you in an effort discover who he is.”

 

     “I understand that.  I just don’t think this independence needs to take place on a five hundred mile ride to Anchorage with an inexperienced driver and nine other kids.”

 

     “I agree with you on that one.”

 

     “Glad to hear it.  Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get my son to agree with me on it.”

    

     “And you probably won’t.”

 

     “So that means I have to put up with him bein’ pissed at me over this for the next six months?”

 

     “No,” Roy chuckled. “It means that in a week Trevor will have forgotten all about this battle with you, because he’ll have picked a new one.”

 

     “Oh, that’s real comforting,” Johnny said in a dry tone that was a cross between mock long suffering, and very real long suffering.

 

     “Hang in there, Johnny,” Roy said right before the two men hung up the phone that night. “You’ve come this far with Trevor and done a great job of raising him.  You’ll do fine getting him to eighteen.”

 

     I hope you’re right on that one, Roy, Johnny thought as he said goodbye to his friend and disconnected the call.

 

               

____________________

 

     Johnny had shut the television off after he’d hung up the phone, and then made the rounds of the main floor of the house. He made sure the doors were locked, and extinguished lights as he traveled from room to room.  It was only ten minutes after nine, but he was tired.  

 

     When the fire chief reached the top of the stairs he turned left and walked the few steps it took him to reach his son’s room.  He knocked on Trevor’s door, then knocked louder when he realized the music was drowning out all sound. 

 

     The stereo was switched off and Trevor called, “Yeah?”

 

     “Can I come in?”

 

     There was a moment of hesitation, then a, “If you wanna.”

 

     Johnny entered the room that had been transformed from a little boy’s domain, to a young man’s two years earlier.  Gone was the mural depicting a sled dog race that had traveled the pale blue walls, to be replaced with a mural depicting airplanes ranging from a World War I Albatros, to a World War II Hellcat, to a B-52 bomber from the Vietnam era, to a modern day Stealth bomber, to other planes Johnny couldn’t identify by name.  Whether Trevor’s interest in flying had begun that day seven years ago when he’d stowed away to California on Gus Zimmerman’s plane, or whether it began two years ago when Gus had hired him to help around his small airport, Johnny wasn’t certain.  But Trevor’s interest in planes and flying had been ignited at some point, and now, among other dreams, he hoped to get his pilot’s license some day.

 

     Johnny thought about what Roy had told him in regards to picking his battles, and Trevor having reached an age where he was yearning for some independence.  Johnny thought he’d given in on two issues already in the past year – a desk in this room, meaning Trevor no longer did his homework in the study nook Johnny had set up for him on the balcony when he’d started kindergarten, and a stereo in here as well. 

 

     Maybe I am old fashioned, the fire chief thought as he sat on the edge of his son’s bed. He knew Trevor wasn’t lying to him when he said a lot of kids his age had TVs DVD players, computers, and phones in their rooms. But is there anything wrong with me not wanting my teenager to isolate himself in his room to the point that I never see him, or don’t know what he’s up to or who he’s talking to?

 

     Tonight Trevor didn’t lobby for any of those items he knew his father wasn’t going to allow him to have.  He simply sat at his desk with his back to Johnny while he finished his homework.  Johnny contemplated asking the teenager how he could concentrate on his school work with the music cranked up as high as it had been, but was forced to recall how much he’d hated it when his own father used to ask him the same thing.  Of course, back in 1962, the only thing Johnny had to crank up was a transistor radio, and the music coming from it wasn’t offensive, though the fire chief was forced to admit his father had considered Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis to be just that.

 

     For now, Johnny kept his opinions on Trevor’s choice in music to himself. 

 

     “Almost done with your homework?”

    

     “Yeah.”

 

     “Did Mr. Dreshon return the history test you took the other day?”

 

     “Yeah.”

 

     “What’d you get on it?”

 

     “An A.”

 

     “Good for you,” Johnny praised.  “I’m really proud of you, Trev. You’ve done really well this year.”

 

     Still with his back to his father, Trevor shrugged his right shoulder.  “I’ve always gotten good grades. It’s no big deal.”

 

     “Yes, it is.  And considering it’s not always easy to make the transition from grade school to high school, I want you to know how happy I am with how well you’ve done this past year.”

 

     “Thanks. You keep telling me if I wanna be a doctor I have to get the best grades I can.”

 

     Johnny nodded, though Trevor didn’t see that movement. Whether Trevor would eventually become a doctor, Johnny couldn’t guess at this point.  They’d been on a camping trip two years earlier by Salmon Bay, a remote area of Alaska that bordered the Bering Sea. They’d been a long way from home, and during their travels, many miles had passed between towns.  They’d met a young doctor by the name of Brian Walters on that trip, who was camping as well. He’d shared the Gage campfire on several nights, and once he’d found out Johnny was a paramedic, the two men discovered conversation between them flowed easily.  Trevor had been fascinated to discover that the thirty-three year old man was the type of doctor he’d only heard his father speak of when telling him about his great grandfather, John Hamilton. Great Grandpa Hamilton had been a physician who made house calls in and around the town of White Rock, Montana, where Trevor’s father had grown up.  When Trevor had first heard Johnny use the term ‘house call’ he’d had to ask his father what the phrase meant.  He’d only been eight years old then, but once he understood the definition, he thought it sounded like a neat way to take care of people who were sick.  His father had smiled at him and agreed that it was a neat way for a doctor to take care of his patients, but one that had largely gone out of fashion by the time the 1960s arrived, and by the turn of the new century, was rarely heard of.

 

     After meeting Doctor Walters, and hearing how he had an office in the tiny hamlet of St. George, and sometimes traveled for miles and miles to treat people who otherwise would have no medical care, Trevor knew that’s what he wanted to do with his life.

 

     “And after I learn how to fly, Papa, I could buy a Cessna and fly to see some of my patients who live real far from town,” thirteen-year-old Trevor had said several times throughout the trip home. Johnny had agreed that it was a possibility, and had also agreed that Doctor Walters was correct when he’d said Alaska, where approximately three hundred thousand residents lived in the remote towns and rural areas of the central and northern regions, could use more doctors who were willing to set up small practices and make house calls. “Granted, you don’t get rich practicing medicine this way,” Doctor Walters had said, “but in terms of personal rewards...well, I’ll sacrifice money any day in order to be my own man and not be controlled by an HMO, a hospital board of directors, or any of that other nonsense.”

 

Trevor and Doctor Walters had exchanged e-mail addresses on that camping trip and had since become faithful correspondents.  As Brian told Trevor more and more about what it was like to be a doctor in the isolated northern portion of the state, Trevor’s interest in the profession grew.

 

     “Good grades will be important for getting accepted into a university, and then later, medical school,” Johnny said now in reference to his son’s comment. “Plus, those good grades will help you earn some scholarships.  We’re going to need all of those we can get if you do decide to become a doctor.”

 

     “Don’t worry about that.  Mom and Franklin are gonna...”

 

     Remembering that he didn’t want to have this discussion with his father, Trevor let his sentence die off.

    

     “Your mother and Franklin are gonna what?”

 

     “Nothing,” Trevor said as he shut his biology book and turned sideways in his chair so he could see his father.  “Never mind.”

 

     Johnny didn’t press his son on the issue, but instead, used the mention of Trevor’s mother Ashton to his advantage.

 

     “You said something today that we need to talk about.” 

    

     “The track meet.  Yeah, I know. If you wanna be there, then that’s okay.”

 

“No, not the track meet. Though, yes, I wanna be there. What we need to talk about is the comment you made regarding me shacking up with your mother.”

 

Trevor’s eyes dropped to the bright blue carpeting that lined his floor. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said it.”

 

     “Whether you should have said it or not is beside the point. You did, and I think we need to discuss it.”

 

     “No, we don’t.”

 

     “Yes, we do,” Johnny insisted. “You asked me for a privilege today that I wouldn’t say yes to, and that privilege included spending the night in a hotel room with four girls.”

 

Trevor blushed and risked a glance at his father. “Pops, nothing is gonna happen.  We’re just gonna crash for the night.”

 

“I understand that’s your intention. Whether that’s all that will happen or not, you won’t be finding out, because I haven’t changed my mind.”

 

“That figures,” the boy mumbled.

 

Johnny ignored the remark. “You can’t compare the choice your mother and I made, to what you want to do with your friends.  I was thirty-nine and your mother was thirty when we moved in together. As you know, I had already been married once many years before that.  Be it right or wrong, your mother and I were old enough, and mature enough, to make the decision we did.  I never considered it ‘shacking up,’ Trevor.  That phrase cheapens what we had together, and what we meant to one another.”

 

Silence lingered in the room a long moment as the boy returned to staring at the carpeting.  When he finally spoke it was to ask, “How come you didn’t marry her?”

 

“Your mom?”

 

“Yeah.” Trevor made eye contact with his father once again. “How come you never married her? How come you just went on living with her until...well, until we moved here?”    

 

Over the past few months Trevor had begun to ask more and more questions about Ashton, and about Johnny’s relationship with her.  Johnny knew this was simply another part of the growing up process for his son.  He was trying to discover who he was and where he’d come from, and part of discovering that meant learning more about the mother he’d seen only two weeks out of each year since he was three years old.  For the most part, Johnny had always given Trevor honest answers to his questions.  However, there were two things Trevor didn’t know, and as far as Johnny was concerned, never would.  Trevor didn’t know that on the day he was born, his mother placed him in his father’s arms and said, “Here. He's yours. You wanted him, you raise him.”  And, because Trevor didn’t know that, he also didn’t know that his mother hadn’t lived with them during the first year of his life, prior to his father taking the job of Eagle Harbor’s fire and paramedic chief in May of 1993.

 

“How come, Pops?”  Trevor asked now, his voice bringing Johnny out of his thoughts. “How come you never married Mom?”

 

“It wasn’t gonna work out,” was all Johnny said.

 

“Did you even ask her?”

 

Yes, I did, were Johnny’s unvoiced words. I asked her more times than I can remember.

 

“Trevor, it just wasn’t gonna work out,” Johnny said.

 

“For her?” the boy scowled. “Or for you?”

 

Johnny understood that it was easy for Trevor to make a martyr of the woman he rarely saw, and who spoiled him with money and gifts throughout the year. The woman who never had to discipline him, or tell him no, he couldn’t go to a rock concert with his friends.  He understood it, but nonetheless his son’s shifting loyalties still hurt him.

 

The man refused to be drawn into an argument. It was getting late and he was tired.  And besides, no matter what Trevor might say, or how angry he might make his father, Johnny wasn’t going to reveal to the teenager that it was his mother who didn’t want to get married, and that it was his mother who had no desire to raise him.

 

Trevor turned away when Johnny stood up, crossed the few feet that separated them, and kissed the top of his head.

 

“Good night, son.”

 

The fire chief didn’t get a “good night,” in return, but then, given Trevor’s mood, that fact didn’t surprise him.

 

____________________

 

 

Hi Libby,

 

     Congrats. on getting the job at the Gap.  That’s cool that you’ll get a discount on clothes.  I’m going to be working for Sebastian this summer.  He’s Clarice’s nephew.  He has a fishing boat and always hires on a big crew for June, July, and August.  On Saturday and Sunday, I’ll still work at the airport for Gus like I have the last couple of summers. Gus and Sebastian both are letting me have three weeks off because of the week in July I’ll be in California with Pops visiting you guys, and then the two weeks after that when I’ll be with my mom in New York.

 

     Tonight I asked Pops why he never married my mom.  He gave me some lame answer about how it wasn’t going to work out.  How could he know whether or not it was going to work out if he never even asked her to marry him?  You know what I think?  I think Pops didn’t want to get married, and when my mom started putting pressure on him, he left her and took me with him. I wish they had gotten married.  It’s all Pops’ fault that I don’t know Mom better than I do.

 

    

Trevor 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” 

 

“I wish I was, but I’m not,” Trevor replied. “He said I can’t go.”

 

Connor slammed his locker door shut and slumped against it.  “I can’t believe this.  Why won’t he let you go?”

 

“He’s says it’s too far for me to ride with you since you’ve only had your license a couple of months.”

 

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s just something he’s hung up about.  Plus, the girl thing.”

 

“What about the girls?”

 

“He won’t let me sleep in the same room with them.”

 

“Did you tell him that’s how it’s done these days? That all the sleepovers and stuff we get invited to are co-ed? Did you tell him nothin’ is gonna happen?”

 

“Yeah, I told him all that,” Trevor said as he grabbed the textbook and folder he’d need for his next class.  “He wouldn’t listen.”

 

“If you talk to him again, tell him my parents are okay with all this, maybe he’ll let you go. Do you think?”

 

“Trust me on this one, Connor,” Trevor said to his blond- headed friend.  “He’s not gonna let me go.”

 

“There’s no chance of gettin’ him to change his mind at all?”

 

“No.”

 

“Man, Trev, that’s for shit.  You know what the problem is with your pops, don’t you?”

 

“No, what?”

 

“He’s so damn old he doesn’t remember what it’s like to be a teenager.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Trevor agreed as the bell rang that signaled he and Connor had three minutes to arrive at their next class.

 

“Maybe if my pops talks to your pops he’ll let you go.”

 

As the two boys walked down the hall together Trevor said, “Connor, think about it.  Your father is young enough to be my father’s son.  Do you really think he’ll stand a chance convincing my pops to let me go?”

 

“You know, I never thought of that.  My pops is young enough to be your pop’s son, isn’t he?”

 

Trevor knew Connor’s father, Dave, was thirty-eight.  Given the fact that his father was sixty, it didn’t take a mathematician to know John Gage could be Dave Gable’s father.

 

“Yeah, he is,” Trevor answered.

 

“Holy shit, Gage.  Your father is old.”

 

“Believe me, I know,” Trevor agreed right before he and Connor entered the room where their history class was held.

 

 

____________________

 

 

John Gage had spent his day off cleaning horse stalls in his small barn, tending to the animals, and doing some paperwork he’d brought home from the fire station with him the previous evening.  He left his house shortly after three so he could be sitting in the bleachers when Trevor’s track meet started at three-thirty.

 

As was normal, Johnny was kept busy during the meet conversing with the parents of Trevor’s classmates who were seated around him.  There wasn’t a person in Eagle Harbor who didn’t know John Gage, and many of them were members of his volunteer squad that was made up of firefighters and EMT’s who held paying jobs in other industries.  When the track meet was over, Johnny waited while Trevor showered and changed clothes. When Trevor appeared carrying his backpack and a gym bag with his dirty track uniform, Johnny excused himself from the people he’d been talking to.  He put an arm around Trevor’s shoulder as they walked to the Land Rover, and congratulated his son on winning the two events he’d competed in. Johnny suggested they eat at supper at the Northern Lights Restaurant before going home, and as was normal for a teenage boy with an appetite the size of Trevor’s, the young man didn’t object.

 

The tension that had existed between the father and his son the previous day was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Johnny again thought of Roy’s words, and realized Trevor’s upset over the concert was evidently a thing of the past now.  He also remembered Roy’s prediction that Trevor would soon pick another battle to wage, and hoped that didn’t come to pass. Or at least not too soon.

 

That night Trevor did his homework with the absence of music playing. When he was finished, he joined his father in the great room where they watched a movie.  After the movie ended the Gage men went to the kitchen for a bedtime snack. Trevor dished ice cream into bowls while Johnny washed and sliced strawberries.  He sprinkled the fruit over the ice cream. While Trevor got spoons, Johnny carried the bowls to the table.

 

     When John was down to his last spoonful, Trevor asked, “Pops, if Kim was alive do you think you’d still be married to her?”

 

     Johnny took his time in finishing off his dessert. Trevor’s question had caught him by surprise, and he didn’t have a ready answer for the boy.  Trevor knew his father’s wife, Kim, and their daughter, Jessie, had been murdered in April of 1967, forty years ago now.  When Trevor was a little boy he would occasionally ask questions about the woman and child in the picture Johnny kept on the dresser in his bedroom.  But as he had grown older and sensed that, even after all the years that had passed, this was a difficult subject for his father to discuss, Trevor had ceased to express curiosity about Kim and Jessie.

 

     “Pops?”

 

     “That’s a hard question for me to answer, Trev. Kim’s been gone a long time now.”

 

     “I know.  But I was just wondering if you think you’d still be married to her. You know, if your commitment to her would have lasted..how many years would you be married now if she was alive?”

 

     “Forty two. Getting close to forty three, actually.”

 

     “That’s a long time.”

 

     “Yes, it is,” Johnny agreed as he picked up his son’s empty dish and walked it and his own bowl to the dishwasher.

 

     “So, do you think you’d still be married to her?”

 

     “Like I said, that’s a hard question to answer.  In many ways I’d like to think Kim and I would still be married, but there’s one drawback to that.”

 

     “What?”

 

     Johnny turned and smiled at his son as he shut the door on the dishwasher.

 

     “You wouldn’t be here.”

 

     It took Trevor a moment to understand that his father meant the genetics that had created Trevor via Johnny and Ashton, wouldn’t have existed between Johnny and Kim.  

 

     “Oh, you mean because of my mom. Because Mom’s my mom, and Kim wouldn’t have been my mom.  I mean, I guess I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t...you know, had me with my mom.”

 

     “Right.”

 

     As Trevor stood and waited while his father shut out the kitchen light he asked, “But if you think that after forty two years you’d still be married to Kim, how come you didn’t marry my mom? You must think marriage is okay. You don’t have anything against it, right?”

 

     “I never said marriage wasn’t okay. And no, I don’t have anything against it.”

 

     “Then how come—-“

 

     “Trev, it’s after ten and time for us to call it a night.”

 

     “But I just wanna know how come-—“

 

     “I told you last night that it wasn’t going to work out.  That’s the only answer I can give you.”

 

     “It’s the only answer you wanna give me, you mean.”

 

     “No. It’s the only answer I can give you.”

 

     “I think it’s just an excuse.”

 

     “You’re welcome to think whatever you want to.”

 

     “I hate it when you give me an answer like that,” the teenager scowled, “because if you haven’t figured it out yet, that’s no answer at all.”

 

     The pleasant day Johnny had just enjoyed with his son came to an end when Trevor charged up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut. 

 

     Johnny shook his head as he headed up the stairs at a slower pace than his son had just used. 

 

     If I survive these teen years of my son’s it’ll be a damn miracle.  It will truly be a miracle.

 

    

 

     Chapter 4

 

 

As quickly as the latest teenage storm blew in, it blew out again.  Johnny and Trevor passed the next week in harmony. The fire chief began to wonder if he’d weathered the worst of teenage angst with Trevor, and now things could return to how they had been between father and son prior to January. A time when Trevor had accepted Johnny’s authority as his parent with few questions asked.  A time when they had enjoyed doing things together like riding horses, hiking, fishing, kayaking, bowling, playing together on the fire department’s basketball and softball teams, and camping.

 

Trevor worked at the airport for Gus the Saturday prior to Memorial Day weekend.  He rode his bike home at five-thirty that evening.  When he arrived, Trevor stored his bike in the garage, and then walked through the door that led to the barn. He started feeding the animals, and was joined by his father shortly after six when Johnny arrived home from work. 

 

“Wanna go in to town for a pizza after we clean up?” Johnny asked, as he and his son walked to the house at seven.

 

“Sure,” Trevor agreed.  Though Clarice always kept the refrigerator stocked with plenty of meals that could heated in the microwave, the teenager would never pass up the offer of pizza.  “Hey, Pops, Gus is gonna give me flying lessons this summer in exchange for me working at the airport on weekends.”

 

“What?”

 

“Instead of paying me, Gus is gonna give me flying lessons in exchange for the hours I put in on weekends.”

 

“Trevor, we talked about this last summer.  I told you no flying lessons until you’re eighteen.”

 

“But—“

 

“This subject isn’t open for debate.”

 

“But—“

 

“What did I just say?”

 

Trevor spun to face his father.  “You’re so unfair!  I don’t know what difference it makes! I worked it all out with Gus.”

 

“The difference it makes is that I told you last summer no flying lessons until you’re eighteen. If you decide to take lessons at that time, then you’ll be an adult and the choice will be yours.”

 

“So, what?  You think I’m a little kid who can’t handle the responsibility?”

 

“You’re acting like a little kid, but no, I’ve never doubted you can handle the responsibility.”

 

“Then why not?”

 

“Because—“

 

“Don’t say, ‘because I said so.’  Don’t say it, Pops.”

 

“All right, I won’t. I’ll fall back on no.”

 

“How come you can’t see how important this is to me?  How come you have to ruin everything I wanna do?”

 

“I don’t think I’m ruining everything you wanna do.”

 

“I do.  And it’s because you’re old.  If you were young like Connor’s father, then you’d see things my way.  If my mother was here, she’d let me take flying lessons.”

 

“Well, I’m not young like Connor’s father, and your mother isn’t here, so you’re stuck putting up with decrepit old feeble-minded me and what I say.  And what I say to flying lessons is no.”

 

“You’re being unreasonable!”

 

“Trevor, I said no, and I said there was no room for debate.  Therefore, the subject is now closed.”

 

The teenager spun on one heel and stomped for the back door.  “I can’t believe you.”

 

“Get cleaned up. We’re going out to eat.”

 

“I don’t wanna go anywhere! Thanks to you, I just lost my appetite.”

 

Johnny sighed as the back storm door slammed shut.  He sat down on one of the wooden swings that still hung from the swing set that hadn’t been used by Trevor and his friends in four years now.

 

The fire chief gazed at the swing set and slide, then at the crossover bars, and then at the fire station fort he’d built for Trevor ten years earlier.  He supposed it was time to take all this equipment down and give it to some family with young children who would enjoy it.  For some reason, he hadn’t been able to do that yet, and he found himself wondering if Trevor had been correct the previous week when he’d said, “You think you can somehow keep a little kid forever. Keep me your little boy forever.  Well, I’m not your little boy anymore, Pops.”

 

Am I trying to keep him from growing up?  Am I being unreasonable and not giving him privileges he deserves?

 

Johnny mulled these thoughts over as he slowly pushed himself back and forth on the swing using the heels of his work boots. The fire chief knew his son was correct about one thing. Unlike some fifteen year olds, Trevor was responsible enough to take flying lessons. Not only did Johnny believe that, he knew Gus did, too, or the man wouldn’t have offered to teach Trevor to fly.  But Johnny also knew something he hadn’t shared with his son.  That if he gave Trevor permission to take lessons, and then something happened, Johnny would never forgive himself.  He’d never forgive himself if he allowed his son to take flying lessons, and then during the course of that, the unspeakable happened and Trevor lost his life while in an airplane.  Not that such an event would be any easier for Johnny to bear if Trevor was an adult, but at least at that point the choice to take flying lessons was Trevor’s and Trevor’s alone.  Johnny wasn’t so foolish as to think that Trevor wasn’t going to make a number of choices he didn’t approve of after his son reached adulthood, but if nothing else, Johnny’s responsibilities to a minor child would have ended.   Now Johnny understood better something his father had said to him shortly after Trevor turned thirteen.

 

“The best you can really hope for, John, the best any parent can hope for, is that you’ve given your child the right compass to navigate life with.  If you’ve given him a strong base to build on – passed on your morals and instilled in him a basic sense of honesty and decency, then you can’t ask any more of yourself than that.  What Trevor does with that compass, where it takes him after he turns eighteen, is not something you’ll have an ounce of control over.”

 

It was this feeling of losing control over his role as Trevor’s parent that was difficult for Johnny to deal with. As a single father, and a single man, Johnny had always known it would be hard on him when the day came that Trevor left home to make his way in the world.  He just hadn’t realized the process of Trevor leaving home would, to some degree, begin before his son graduated from high school.

 

When Johnny entered the house thirty minutes later, it didn’t surprise him to hear Boys in Bondage screaming loudly from Trevor’s stereo. The fire chief climbed the stairs and knocked loudly on his son’s door. When his knock went unanswered, he pounded on the door with his fist. When that was ignored, he opened the door and entered the room uninvited.

 

Trevor was lying on his back on the bed.  When his father entered the room he turned onto his right side, facing away from Johnny.  John walked to the stereo and turned it off.

 

“Hey! I was listenin’ to that.”

 

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. And give this CD back to Connor on Monday, please.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

“Not, ‘whatever.’ “Yes, Papa,” would be the proper response.”

 

Trevor shifted so he could make eye contact with his father.

 

“You’re not ‘Papa’ to me anymore.  Only a little kid uses that name.”

 

“I’ve always liked it.”

 

“Well, I don’t.”

 

     “Trev, look, I don’t like the fact that we’ve been fighting a lot lately. What can we do to put an end to it?”

 

     “You can let me go to the concert with my friends. You can let me take flying lessons from Gus.”

 

     “I’m sorry, but the answer to both of those things remains no.  When you turn sixteen I’ll get you a pickup truck like I promised months ago, provided you keep your end of the bargain by maintaining your A average, and working in order to pay for the gas and insurance.”

 

     “I don’t want a stupid truck.  I wanna learn how to fly.”

 

     “I think you’ll feel differently next May when you turn sixteen and have your driver’s license.”

 

     “No, I won’t.”

 

     Johnny sighed. “Trevor, you have to meet me half way here.  You can’t tell me I treat you like a little kid, and then when I offer you something like the privilege to have your own vehicle, turn your nose up at it because it’s not flying lessons.”

 

     “Well, it’s not.”

 

     “Son—“

 

     “Pops, just get out, please. Just leave me alone.”

 

     As Johnny shut the door and the obnoxious music was switched on once more, he wondered if he’d ever hear his son call him Papa again. Johnny didn’t know why that simple term of endearment was so important to him, but he couldn’t deny that it was.

 

____________________

 

Libby,

 

     My pops won’t let me take flying lessons. You know what? I do hate him.

 

Trevor.

    

 

     Chapter 5

 

     Chet Kelly parked his silver Jeep Cherokee at the curb in front of Roy’s house.  Roy’s Porsche was parked on the far left side of the driveway, and the DeSoto mini-van was in the garage.  Chet didn’t see Joanne’s car, meaning she was still at work, he supposed.  As he walked to the front door, Chet took note of the purple Dodge Neon parked in the middle of the driveway and wondered who owned it. He didn’t have to wonder long.  Because the main door to the house was open, he could see through the living room and into the dining room through the storm door.  Libby was sitting at the table doing homework.  She looked up at the sound of his knock.  She smiled as she stood and walked to the door.

 

     “Hi, Mr. Kelly,” the teenager greeted her father’s old co-worker while unlatching the lock.  She opened the door and allowed him to enter. 

 

     “Hey, Libby.” Chet indicated over his shoulder with his right thumb.  “Is that your car out there?”

 

     “Yep. I got it a few weeks ago.”

 

     “Nice.”

 

     “Thanks. It’s six years old, but it runs good.  Or at least that’s what Grandpa said.”

 

     “So your gramps wouldn’t give his Porsche to you, huh?”

 

     “Don’t I wish. But no, he wouldn’t give it to me.  Grandma says he’ll be buried in it.”

 

     “Probably,” Chet agreed. “Is your grandpa around?”

 

     Libby nodded toward the patio doors that sat behind the table where she’d been working.  “He’s in the backyard.”

 

     “Okay, thanks.  Mind if I walk through here?”

 

     “No, go ahead.”

 

     Chet walked through the living and dining rooms, then slid the patio screen open and stepped outside. A shadow stretching out in front of him caused Roy to glance up from his work.  He’d been using a battery operated weed whipper to edge the grass around Joanne’s flowerbeds.  He shut the tool off and leaned it against the house as Chet approached.

 

     “Hey, Chet.”

 

     “Roy,” the man nodded. “I see Joanne keeps ya’ busy when you’re not at work, huh?”

 

     “Something like that.”

 

     “This session about over with?”

 

     “Yep. The kids are due to graduate in three more weeks, and then I’m off until the next session starts right after Labor Day.”

 

     Chet snorted.  “Kids.”

 

     “Sorry, Chet, but these days everyone under forty is a kid to me.”

 

     “Well, not to me,” the sixty-one year old Chet said, as though by declaring that he could keep from growing older.  “As far as I’m concerned, I’m still a kid.”

 

     “As far as most people are concerned, you’re still a kid.”

 

     “Glad to hear it.”

 

     “So how’s retirement treating you?”

 

     “Good, good. Didn’t think I’d be able to get used to havin’ so much free time on my hands, but I like it. I work for Marco when he needs extra help for a big party or something, but otherwise, I’m free as a bird and lovin’ every minute of it.”

 

     Marco Lopez had retired from the fire department twelve years earlier, and owned a restaurant and catering business. For Chet, retirement was relatively new.  He’d worked until his youngest son, Ryan, had graduated from college the previous May, and then retired in August of 2006.

 

     “How are the boys?” Roy asked.

 

     “Fine. Ryan’s first year of teaching went great. I wasn’t sure if he’d like dealing with high school kids, but he seems to.  Next year he’ll not only be teaching history and government, but he was asked to be an assistant coach for the boy’s baseball team, too.”

 

     “Good for him.  And Collin?”

 

     Chet couldn’t help but smile.  His oldest son had joined the fire department three years earlier.

 

     “Great. He’s workin’ outta 44’s. Likes it a lot.  He got engaged a couple of months ago, but they haven’t set a date yet.”

 

     “Tell him congratulations.  I can’t believe your kids are old enough to be out on their own. Seems like only yesterday that they were just little guys swimming in my pool at the reunion picnic each summer.”

 

     “I know what you mean.  I can’t believe you’re a grandpa six times over, and that Libby is what...sixteen?”

 

     “She’ll be seventeen in a few weeks.”

 

     “Hard to imagine, huh?”

 

     “Yeah, it is,” Roy agreed as he thought of his six granddaughters who ranged in age from almost seventeen, down to John and Shawna’s eighteen-month-old twins.  In-between Libby and the twins, Sarah and Hannah, there was John and Shawna’s three year-old Emily, and then Chris’s nine-year-old Madison and eleven-year-old Brittany.

 

     “Any more DeSotos on the way that I don’t know about?”

 

     “None that I’m aware of.  All my kids tell me their families are complete, so I think John’s twins are the end of the line until the great grandchildren start coming along.”

 

     “Don’t even mention that.  If we’re standin’ here havin’ a conversation about your great grandchildren in another ten years, then I’ll know we’re a couple of old farts.”

 

     “I hate to break the news to you, Chet, but I’ve got a feeling it’s a strong possibility.”

 

     “Yeah, me too.  But hey, I didn’t come here to talk about gettin’ old, cause no matter what the mirror says, I’m still young at heart.  And because I’m young at heart, you’ll never guess what I did.”

 

     “No, I’ll never guess.”

 

     “Aren’t you even gonna try?”

 

     “Nope.”

 

     “Aw, Roy, you’re no fun.”

 

     “Chet, I could stand here and guess all day and not get it right.  Just go ahead and tell me.”

 

     “If Gage was here, he’d guess.”

 

     “You’re right, he would. But since the Phantom’s favorite foe isn’t here, you’ll have to settle for me.  So what’d you do?”

 

     “I bought a vacation home.”

 

     “That’s nice.”

 

     “Aren’t you gonna guess where?”

 

     “No.”

 

     “Aren’t you gonna ask where?”

 

     “Okay, where?”

 

     “Jackson Lake.”

 

     “That’s up around Fresno, isn’t it?”

 

     “Yeah, about an hour or so northeast of there.”

 

     “Congratulations.  I’m sure you and Bonnie will enjoy it.”

 

     Bonnie was Chet’s new wife.  Or at least that’s how Roy always thought of her since Chet and Bonnie had been married just fifteen months, and since Roy had only met her one time.

 

     “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

 

     “Oh.  So Bonnie doesn’t want a second home?”

 

     “I don’t care if she does or not. We got divorced seven weeks ago.”

 

     “Uh...oh.  I didn’t know.  I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

     “Don’t be. Believe me when I tell you shedding that woman’s fat ass was the best thing I ever did.  Which just goes to show you, that you should never let your priest play matchmaker.”

 

     “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

     “So anyway, I figured I deserved a present after the hell I’ve been through with that woman, so I bought a second home. Jackson Lake’s a great place to fish, and the Sierras are right there so a guy can ski and snowmobile in the winter.  My boys are really looking forward to going up there with me.”

 

     “Sounds like you’ll have a lot of fun.”

 

     “I’m sure we will. And I want you and Joanne to come up and spend some weekends with me when I’m there.”

 

     “Thanks. We might not get up there this year, but next year, after Libby graduates and we retire, we’ll have more time to travel.”

 

     “Oh. So you don’t think you could come up this summer for a week? I mean, not with Joanne necessarily, but just you?”

 

     “I don’t know,” Roy shrugged.  “Why?”

 

     “ ‘Cause Marco and Ryan are goin’ up there with me in July for a week. They’re gonna help me work on the place. I thought maybe you’d wanna come, too.”

 

     “Just how much fixing up does this vacation home of yours need, Chet?”

 

     “Well...uh, some.”

 

     “How much is some?”

 

     “New shingles on the roof, new wiring, the deck that overlooks the lake needs to be rebuilt, the bathrooms could use some work, the front steps need to be rebuilt, the entire house needs a good cleaning and airing out, and then there’s the—“

 

     “Remember the last time you bought a fixer-upper?”

 

     “Roy, give me a break. That was over thirty years ago, and it was just plain bad luck.”

 

     “Yeah,” Roy smiled, “bad luck for Johnny.”

 

     “Well, Gage isn’t going to be here this time, though come to think of it, maybe I should give him a call.  He’s great with a hammer and nails.”

 

     “Don’t bother.  He’s due to be here the week of July 22nd with Trevor for our 51’s reunion picnic. I doubt he’ll be taking any time off before then.”

 

     “That’s too bad, ‘cause I could really use his help. But, how about you? Will you come up?”

 

     “What week in July are you planning on doing this?”

 

     “The week of the fifteenth.”

 

     “Let me talk it over with Joanne.”

 

     “Does that mean yes or no?”

 

     “It means let me talk it over with Joanne. If we don’t have a lot going on around here, and provided Jo doesn’t care, I can probably go with you guys.”

 

     Chet slapped Roy’s upper arm. “That’s great! Thanks a lot, Roy.  I’ll call you in a couple of weeks to touch base.”

 

     “That’s fine.”

 

     As Chet headed for the corner of the house, he turned around and grinned at his former co-worker. “And you know what the best part of having a vacation home is?”

 

     “No. What?”

 

     “Unlike a wife, it doesn’t talk back. Damn, Roy, but I didn’t have nothin’ but constant headaches while I was married to that woman.  Yap, yap, yap. On some days I didn’t think she’d ever shut up. At least my new house is nice and quiet.”

 

     Roy just shook his head and grinned as the Irishman made his way to the front of the house where his vehicle was parked.  As he picked up the weed whipper and turned it on, Roy acknowledged to himself that some things would never change, and in the case of Chet Kelly, some people would never change, no matter how old they lived to be.

 

 

     Chapter 6

 

     The Saturday morning that kicked off Memorial Day weekend found Trevor Gage finishing his barn chores shortly after eight o’clock. He let the horses into the corral, then jumped the fence and headed toward the house.  The dogs of his boyhood, Tasha and Nicolai, were eleven years old now, and beginning to show their age.  Nicolai was lying outside the barn door.  He lifted his head as Trevor passed by, but didn’t get up to follow the teen.  Tasha walked beside her young master as he made his way to the house.  She lay down on the back deck when Trevor opened the door and entered into the laundry room. 

 

Trevor bent and took his boots off, then placed them on the rubber mat his father kept next to the door.  He walked over to the sink that was positioned between the upright freezer and the washing machine.  He turned on both the hot and cold water faucets, and allowed them to run until the water was warm.  He plunged his hands and arms beneath the water and grabbed the soap from the dish.  When Trevor had washed the dirt away, he shut the water off and grabbed a blue towel that hung from a rack mounted over the sink.  He dried off, then tossed the towel in the laundry hamper. He crossed to a cabinet and pulled out a clean towel.  He hung it on the rack before opening the door that led into the kitchen.    

 

     “Oh, there you are, luv,” Clarice said as she walked toward him with her purse over her shoulder.  “I was just coming to look for you.  I’m leaving. I’m supposed to be at the church by eight-thirty.  We need to get the van loaded with the food and gifts.”

 

     Trevor nodded. Every year on this day, Clarice and other women from her church went to the Veterans’ home in Juneau where they spent the day honoring the men who had served their country.  The women always hosted a picnic, and then had gifts to pass out like books and movies that had been donated by members of the Methodist Church. When Trevor was younger, he’d often go with Clarice, especially if his father was working.

 

     “Your papa called a few minutes ago. He’s finishing some things up at the station.  He said he should be home by eleven.”

 

     “Okay,” Trevor said. His father was just coming off a twenty-four shift.  That meant he went off duty at eight a.m., unless he had things to do at the station, or was out on a call.

 

     “Would you like to come with me to Juneau? We can stop by the station and tell Papa where you’re going.”

 

     “Clarice, he’s not Papa anymore.  He’s Pops. And no, I don’t wanna go. Gus has me scheduled to start work at one. But thanks for asking.”

 

     “You’re welcome. It’s nice to know you can still say thank you.”

 

     Trevor scowled.

 

     “Oh, such an unhappy face.  Trevor, what’s going on with you and your papa lately?  You two can barely stand to be in the same room together.”

 

     “Nothing.”

 

     “Trevor.”

 

     Trevor never could ignore Clarice’s intense gaze combined with the tone she used when she said his name that way.

 

     “It’s just that Pops won’t let me do some things I want to.”

 

     “What kind of things?”

 

     “Just things.  Just stuff I’m old enough to be able to do.”

 

     “Evidently Papa doesn’t think so.”

 

     “Like I said, he’s not Papa to me anymore.  Only little kids use that name.”

 

     “Trevor, would you listen to an old woman who loves you?”

 

     Trevor couldn’t help but smile.  “You’re not old.”

 

     “Yes, I am, but that’s beside the point.  So, will you listen?”

 

     “I guess.”

 

     “All right.  What you and your pap...pops, are going through right now, isn’t anything different from what fathers and sons have been going through since the dawn of time.  By virtue of the fact that he’s your father, please give him the respect he’s due.”

 

     “What if he doesn’t give me respect?”

 

     “I hardly believe that’s true.”

 

     “Well, he doesn’t.  He treats me like a little kid.”

 

     Clarice raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’ve been acting like a little kid.”

 

     Trevor shook his head in disgust and turned away from the woman.  As Clarice passed by him, she got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

 

     “Have a nice weekend. I’ll see you after school on Tuesday.”

 

     Trevor never could stay mad at Clarice.  She was too much like a favorite grandmother to harbor ill will toward her. 

 

     “See you Tuesday. Have fun today.”

 

     “I will.”  As the woman opened the door that led into the laundry room she turned around. “Oh, and Trevor?”

 

     Trevor made eye contact with Clarice.  “Yeah?”

 

     “Although it’s been many years since I was fifteen, I do remember a good deal of what it’s like to be your age. And one thing I recall is that when you’re fifteen, the world doesn’t move fast enough to suit you.  But, rest assured, things will change quickly enough, and all too soon you’ll be a grown man leaving this house to set out on your own.  And not too many years after that, you’ll have a career and family of your own.  And before you know it things will change again, and the man who loved you and raised you won’t be here to come home to anymore.  When that happens, you’ll wish with all your heart that you had the opportunity to call him papa one more time.”

 

     Clarice held Trevor’s gaze a moment, then quietly shut the door and left the house.  The teenager shook his head at the odd ways of older people.  They were always talking about the world moving fast, and kids growing up too quickly, and death. 

 

     Trevor took the stairs two at a time and entered his room.  He grabbed clean clothes, walked across the hall to the bathroom, and took a shower.  Steam billowed out of the room when the teen opened the door twenty minutes later.  He made the trip back to his bedroom, his thick damp hair combed into place.  He grabbed The History of Aviation off his nightstand and flopped stomach down upon his bed. 

 

     The teenager looked up when a light rain began to tap against his windows.  Rain was a typical occurrence in Eagle Harbor, and was often referred to as “liquid sunshine” by the locals. He returned his attention to his book, only to look toward the window again when he heard the repeated blare of a car horn. He scrambled off the bed and looked out the window. A blue Dodge mini-van that Trevor recognized was parked in the driveway. Before he even reached the back door, Trevor heard, “Hey, Trev! Come on!  Let’s go!”

 

     Trevor slipped into his tennis shoes and stepped out onto the deck. Connor was standing up on the driver’s side, half in and out of the vehicle, motioning for Trevor to join him.

 

     “Come on!”

 

     The van was loaded with kids, all of them motioning for Trevor to get in. 

 

     “Come on, Trev!”

 

     “Hey, Trev, get your stuff and let’s go!”

 

     Trevor ignored his friends, and ignored the chilly mist falling on his bare arms, as he walked toward Connor.  Quietly, he said, “Connor, I told you I can’t.”

 

     “Oh, come on. Your pop is at the station. I saw his Durango there. Just leave him a note and tell him you’re spending the night somewhere.”

 

     “I can’t.”

 

     “Why not?”

 

     Trevor valued Connor’s friendship, but the one drawback to it was that, when pursing a good time, Connor refused to understood the meaning of the word no.  

 

     “You know why not.”

 

     “And I just told you what to do.  He’ll never know the difference.”

 

     “You don’t know my pops.  Believe me, he’ll know the difference.”

 

     “No, he won’t.  Just tell him that we decided not to go the concert, and that you’re staying at my place.”

 

     “I can’t. He’ll find—“

 

     Before Trevor could finish his sentence Kylee slid the side door open and stuck her head out. “Trevor, what’s the matter?  Aren’t you coming with us?”

 

     When you’re fifteen-years-old, it’s hard to resist the attention of a blond, blue-eyed cheerleader that every boy in your high school wants to date.

 

     Kylee patted the bench seat beside her.  “Here. I saved you a place.”

 

     Trevor chewed on his lip with indecision. “I want to, Kylee, but I—“

 

     “Oh, Trevor, please. Come with us.”

 

     And, when you’re a fifteen-year-old boy, it’s hard to resist a pretty girl begging you to accompany her to a concert.

 

     “Okay, I’ll come. Just let me get a couple of things.”

 

     The kids in the van erupted into a cheer while Trevor ran for the house.  It took him five minutes to throw a change of clothes in a zippered sports bag, add a comb, a tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush, his hairbrush, and grab his wallet off his dresser.  He stopped by his closet on the way out of his room and took his jean jacket off its hanger, and his sleeping bag off the shelf.  He put the jacket on, slipped the strap of the sleeping bag over his left shoulder, picked his sports bag up from the bed, and jogged down the stairs.  By the time he reached the kitchen, the teenager knew what the note was going to leave for his father would say.  He opened a drawer, tore a piece of paper from a notebook, and grabbed a pen.  Quickly, he scrawled,

 

Pops,

 

Gus needed me to come to work early.  I’ll see you later tonight.

 

Trevor

 

     The boy wasn’t sure what he’d do when evening came and he still wasn’t home.  He figured they’d be arriving in Anchorage about seven, so decided he would get to a pay phone and call his father.  Granted, Pops would be mad when he found out where Trevor really was, but what could he do?  By then Trevor would be five hundred miles away, and getting ready to walk into an amphitheater packed with teenagers. His mind started to drift to Sunday night, when he’d have no choice but to return home. He didn’t have time to play out all the scenarios that might have caused him to realize what a foolish idea this was, and might have caused him to change his mind, before Connor beeped the mini-van’s horn again.

 

     Trevor put the note underneath a refrigerator magnet of a fire truck Libby had given his father for Christmas a few years earlier, and tossed the pen back in the drawer. He ran from the house, dodging raindrops as he made his way to the van.  Five minutes later, the teenagers were headed for the ferry that would take them to the mainland, and beyond that, to the road that led to Anchorage.

 

     Chapter 7

 

            John Gage arrived home at twenty minutes to eleven.  He parked the fire department’s Dodge Durango in his driveway, then dashed for the house.  It was still raining, and looked like it would continue to do so all day.  He thought ahead to that evening. He’d suggest to his son that they go to Juneau to have dinner and see a movie when Trevor got off work at the airport.  These days it was hard to say what type of a reaction Johnny would receive to that offer, but he decided to extend it nonetheless.  Trevor had barely been speaking to him this past week, ever since Johnny had put the kibosh on the flying lessons.

 

     Am I wrong? Johnny wondered, not for the first time since the previous Saturday.  Am I being selfish by refusing to allow him to take lessons from Gus?  Am I trying to keep Trevor my little boy, like he claims?

 

     It was at times like this when Johnny envied the relationship Joanne and Roy shared. He’d watched them navigate the teen years as a cohesive unit with Chris and Jennifer. Though they’d experienced their share of disagreements with their teens, at least Roy and Joanne had one another to turn to when they weren’t sure if they were making the right decision regarding their kids.  For Johnny, this was a solo deal.  Not that he hadn’t known it would be from the moment Trevor was born, it was just that he hadn’t anticipated Trevor’s teen years taking such an emotional toll on him.

 

     I suppose I could call my dad this afternoon after Trevor’s gone to work and talk to him about it.  He’s always a good sounding board, Johnny thought as he bent to unlace his boots.  On the other hand, right before we hang up, he’ll laugh and say, “See, John, I always told you that I hoped someday you had a kid who was just like you.  Now you’re getting paid back for the grief you put me through when you were a teenager.”

 

     At any other time Johnny might have been able to laugh along with his dad, and oftentimes he had, but not today.  So in light of that, the fire chief decided to pass on the phone call to his father for the time being as he entered the silent house.

 

     That’s weird. No television. No music. And he’s not on the phone.  He must be in my office on the computer.

 

     “Trevor!” Johnny called as he walked through the great room. “Trev!”

 

     The man looked in his office and found it empty of the boy he was searching for. He called up the stairs, “Trev!  Trevor, you up there?”

 

     When he received no answer, Johnny headed back toward the kitchen. He assumed his son was in the barn, and decided to make lunch for the two of them.  It was when he reached for the handle on the refrigerator door that Johnny’s eyes landed on the note Trevor had left for him.

 

     Oh, so that explains the quiet house.

 

     Johnny made himself a chicken salad sandwich and sliced a peach into a bowl.  He’d just sat down and taken the first bite of his food when the phone rang. He stood and crossed to the counter where he picked up the portable. 

 

     “Hello?”

 

     “John, hi!”  A voice boomed through the line. “It’s Gus.”

 

     “Hey, Gus.”

 

     “Listen, tell Trev he doesn’t have to come to work today. Fog’s supposed to roll in soon, so there won’t be anyone flying. I’m going to clean up around the office and head home in an hour or so.  But tell him if the weather is good tomorrow then he can come in at noon.”

 

     “Okay, I will.” Johnny turned to face the note that was still hanging on the refrigerator.  “But Trevor left me a note that said you had called this morning and asked him to come to work early.”

 

     “Me?”

 

     “That’s what the note says.”

 

     “No, I didn’t call.”

 

     “Oh.”

 

     After a lengthy silence Gus said, “John?”

 

     “Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here.”

 

     “So Trevor’s not home?”

 

     “No, he’s not.  Or at least I don’t think he is.  Maybe he’s out in the barn.”

 

     “Yeah, that’s probably it.  Though why he’d leave you a note that said I’d called him to come to work early, I don’t know.”

 

     I have a feeling I do, Gus, and for that boy’s sake, my feeling had better be wrong.

 

     “Uh...I don’t know either, Gus.  Might have been a mix-up in communication between Trevor and Clarice or something.”

 

     “Yeah, that must have been it.  Well, tell him to come by at noon tomorrow.  I’ll have plenty for him to do if the weather’s good.”

 

     “Sure, I’ll tell him. Bye.”

 

     “Bye, John.”

 

     Johnny wasted no time in slipping his boots back on and tying the laces.  He grabbed his Eagle Harbor Fire Department jacket out of the laundry room closet and headed for the barn.  Though he had hoped for a different outcome, he wasn’t surprised not to find his son in the barn. Nor was he surprised to see Trevor’s bike resting against the north wall in the garage.  He absently patted the head of Nicolai, who had followed him into the garage from the barn.  The dog remained there with his mate, safe from the rain, while Johnny ran for the house. 

 

     Johnny grabbed the phone book off a pantry shelf in the kitchen and looked up a number. He punched the digits into the portable receiver.  Connor’s father answered on the third ring.  Johnny could hear the television set in the background, and from the sounds of the engines guessed the man was watching an auto race of some sort. 

 

     “Dave, hi. It’s John Gage.”

 

     “Hi, Chief,” greeted the man who was a member of Johnny’s volunteer firefighting force.

 

     “Listen, is Connor home?”

 

     “No, he’s not. He headed for Anchorage this morning to see that concert.”

 

     “Is Trevor with him?”

 

     “I don’t know.  I guess so.  Connor said something about picking Trevor up at your place.”

 

Johnny’s mouth tightened. “Do you know what time they left?”

 

“Not exactly sure.  But Connor left here about eight to start picking up the kids who were going.  The concert starts at eight tonight, so I told him they’d want to be on their way by nine.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Is something wrong, Chief? You sound upset.”

 

“No, nothing’s wrong.  Thanks for the information.”

 

Johnny paid no attention to the baffled tone that responded with, “Sure. Any time,” as he hung up the phone.

 

The fire chief didn’t change out of his uniform, or finish eating his lunch.  He stomped through the laundry room, locked the door and shut it firmly behind him, then headed for the Durango. He started the vehicle and wheeled it around, following the same route Connor had taken two hours earlier.

 

 

_________________________

 

 

Trevor looked out the side passenger window at the passing scenery.  The rain had stopped, but the day was still gray and overcast.  He knew they were making good time, though they’d probably lingered too long at a McDonald’s where they’d stopped for lunch.  Still, they’d be in Anchorage by seven or shortly after, and Connor claimed to know exactly where the amphitheater was.  Trevor hoped there was a pay phone nearby.  He didn’t look forward to calling his father, but at the same time, he didn’t want Johnny to worry when he didn’t come home all night.  Trevor didn’t allow himself to think ahead to Sunday night when he did return home.  He wasn’t quite sure what his father would do to him for going to the concert, but he supposed he’d be grounded for a couple of weeks.

 

But when nothing happens on this trip like I told Pops, maybe he’ll finally quit treating me like I’m a little kid.  Maybe this is what I had to do to prove to him that I’m not eight years old anymore.

 

Trevor knew he was grasping at straws with those thoughts, but decided they were thoughts he’d cling to for now.

 

Music was blaring throughout the van, reminding Trevor of how much he hated Boys in Bondage.  His father had been correct when he’d surmised Trevor didn’t like the group nearly as much as he let on.  Trevor didn’t care for heavy metal music, but that’s what a lot of his friends listened to, so in order to be a part of the group he went along with it.  He turned in his seat when Jake placed something cold against his face.

 

“Here, Trev.”

 

Trevor took the beer can, but then passed it up front to Michael, who was riding in the passenger seat next to Connor.

 

When Jake handed Trevor another beer can, the fifteen-year-old knew it was meant for him, just like the one he’d passed on to Michael had been. Trevor opened the can as more were circulated around the van, but didn’t take a drink from it.  He hadn’t tried alcohol yet, in part because his father paid close attention to where he was and whom he was hanging out with, and in part because he hadn’t had the desire.  For now, Trevor just hung onto the open can, hoping no one would notice that he didn’t take a drink.  He was glad that Connor had enough sense not to drink and drive. Because of that, he supposed Connor would have his fill of beer later in the hotel room.

 

Bags of potato chips and Doritos were passed around next. Connor glanced in the rearview mirror as Michael took a bag of chips from Trevor.

 

“Holy shit!  Get rid of the beer!  A cop’s on my ass with his lights on!”

 

Trevor swiveled around as beer cans were passed back to Jake and his girlfriend, Brianna, who were sitting in the back seat along with another couple.  They began stowing the cans in a cooler, not paying any attention to what was spilling as the containers were thrust from teenager to teenager.

 

“Oh damn,” Connor said. “Now he’s got his siren on too!  He wants me to pull over.”

 

“Were you speeding?”  Michael asked.

 

“No!”

 

As the vehicle approached with lights and siren blaring Trevor’s eyes grew wide.

 

Oh no.  Oh no.  Why?  Why is he doing this to me?

 

Connor brought the mini-van to a stop on the shoulder of the road.  He turned around to get a look at the man climbing out of the Durango. His brow furrowed with puzzlement.

 

“Hey, Trev.  That’s not a cop, that’s your pops.”

 

“I know.”

 

“What do you think he wants? How come he followed—“

 

Before Connor could finish his sentence, the side door was thrown open.  Johnny crooked two fingers at his son.

 

“Get out of this van right now.”

 

“But—“

 

“Trevor, unless you want me to embarrass you in front of your friends, get out and get in my truck.” 

 

Trevor’s eyes never left the ground as he grabbed his sports bag and sleeping bag from the vehicle’s floor, climbed out of the mini-van, and marched toward the Durango with clenched fists.

 

Johnny scanned the van’s interior.  “Is there anyone else  making this trip without permission from their parents who wants a ride back to Eagle Harbor?”

 

The kids glanced at one another.  Kylee unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out, followed by the boy who had been sitting on the other side of her.  The rest of the kids remained as they were.

 

The fire chief looked at the driver.

 

“Connor, you’re not drinking, are you?”

 

“No, Chief.”

 

“I smell beer.”

 

“I know.  But I’m not drinking.”

 

Johnny shook his head.  “You’d better not be. And you’d better plan on telling your father that you had beer in this van when you get home tomorrow night, because if you don’t, I will.”

 

“Yes, Chief. But he won’t care as long as I wasn’t drinking and driving.”

    

“I guess that’s his business then. You just make sure you tell him.”

 

“I will.”

 

After Johnny had slammed the door on the van, Connor looked at the kids who remained.

 

“Boy, is he strict. I really feel sorry for Trevor. By the look in the Chief’s eyes, his ass is gonna be grass.”

 

“I’ll say,” Michael agreed.

 

Connor pulled back onto the highway and headed toward Anchorage, while the Durango made a U-turn and headed back toward Eagle Harbor.

 

    

     Chapter 8

 

      

Trevor sat slumped in the front seat of the red vehicle as the miles passed.  He’d tried to get in the back with Kylee and Matt, but his father had shagged him by the elbow and growled, “You’ll sit up front with me.”

 

The trip back to Eagle Harbor seemed to take days, as opposed to hours.  Now Trevor knew what a man condemned to die felt like as he awaited his execution.  You were aware the inevitable was coming, and didn’t know if you just wanted to get it over with, or if you wanted to drag it out as long as possible.

 

Trevor had been surprised when Kylee and Matt had climbed out of Connor’s van.  He hadn’t been aware that anyone else’s parents had said no to the trip like his father had.  But then, Trevor wasn’t certain if, in fact, Kylee’s folks and Matt’s folks had said no, or if Kylee and Matt hadn’t told their parents where they were going, and were afraid Trevor’s father would do so.

 

Great.  Just great.  Now not only will they think I’m a baby, but they’ll think my father’s a narc, too.

 

Not one word was spoken in the Durango the entire four-hour drive back to Eagle Harbor. Every so often Trevor would risk a glance at his father, only to see Johnny’s hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, his mouth set in a firm line of displeasure and fury.

 

When they arrived at Matt’s house, Trevor prayed his father wouldn’t get out of the vehicle and speak with Matt’s parents.  For once, his prayer was answered.  Matt jumped out of the Durango as fast as he could.

 

“Uh...bye. Thanks...thanks for the ride, Chief Gage.”

 

Johnny merely nodded his head.  When the rear door had been shut, they headed for Kylee’s home.  Again, Trevor’s father didn’t get out of the vehicle.  Kylee picked up the backpack she’d packed with clothes and makeup for the trip.

 

“Bye, Trevor.”

 

Trevor kept his eyes on the floor, not able to face this girl he’d so wanted to impress.  “Bye.”

 

“Bye...bye, Chief Gage. Thanks...um...thanks for the ride.”

 

Again, Johnny did nothing but nod his head. As soon as Kylee had entered the front door of her home, Johnny backed the Durango out of the driveway.  Trevor was certain that’s when the yelling would start, and was even more unnerved when it didn’t.  His father remained silent as he drove them out of Eagle Harbor. When Trevor could no longer stand the anticipation of what was to come, he glanced at Johnny.

 

“Pops—“

 

“Not now.”

 

“But—“

 

“I said, not now.”

 

“I just wanna say I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s easy to say ‘I’m sorry’ after you’ve been caught red-handed doing what you were told not to.”

 

“But I—“

 

“Not now.”

 

Trevor sighed and threw his head back against the seat.  He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out this entire day.  If only he’d been firm with Connor.  If only he’d stood his ground and just said, “No, I can’t go,” none of this would have happened. His father wouldn’t have tracked him down. He wouldn’t have been embarrassed in front of his friends. And Pops wouldn’t be so angry with him. But, on the other hand, if only his father had allowed him to go in the first place, none of this would have happened either. 

 

As the Durango came to a halt in front of the garage, Tasha and Nicolai ran to greet its passengers.  As Johnny got out of the vehicle he ordered, “Take care of the animals.  All of them.  When you’re done, come in the house.  I’ll be waiting for you in my office.”

 

Trevor wasn’t sure what, “I’ll be waiting for you in my office” meant, but it didn’t sound good.  And there had never been a time when he and his father had arrived home together that doing the chores hadn’t been a joint effort.  Trevor was about to point that out, but thought better of it as he watched his father march stiff-backed to the house.

 

The teenager sighed again as he bent to pet his dogs.  When he heard the back door slam he straightened, entered the barn, and began tending to the horses, cats, rabbits, and dogs.  No matter how long he tried to stretch the chores out, eventually all the animals had been given food, fresh water, and a clean living area.  When he had no where else to go but in the house, Trevor shoved his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, bent his head, and slowly shuffled toward the back door. 

 

_________________________

 

Trevor found his father seated behind his oak desk in the office.  The computer’s screen saver of Dalmatians sporting helmets and turn-out coats while riding fire trucks was on, and the desk was clean, meaning Johnny hadn’t been doing any work while he waited for Trevor.  The teenager didn’t take this as a good sign, anymore than he’d taken his father’s directive that he do the chores alone as a good sign, nor taken his father’s, “I’ll be waiting for you in my office,” as a good sign. 

 

Johnny stood up and walked around the desk. Though Trevor had grown quite a bit since entering high school, he felt like his father was towering over him by several feet.

 

Johnny’s eyes narrowed with anger, his voice was cold and unyielding. “I told you more than a week ago that you couldn’t go to Anchorage with Connor, yet you went anyway.”

 

“I know, but—“

 

“I told you I’d take you and your friends if you wanted me to.  I gave you an alternative that you turned down.”

 

“I know, but—“

 

“I trusted you.  I assumed I didn’t have to check with you to see if you’d told Connor no, that you couldn’t go.  I assumed it wasn’t necessary for me to check with Connor’s parents to make sure you weren’t included in this trip.”

 

“I wasn’t included. And you can trust me.  I did tell Connor no, but—“

 

“I assumed I didn’t need Clarice to stay here until I got home today, in an effort to make certain you obeyed me.”

 

“You didn’t.  I wasn’t gonna go, but—“

 

Johnny thrust a finger into his son’s chest. “There are no buts, Trevor!  Do you get it? There are no buts!”

 

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?”

 

“Why? So you can lie about what happened?  So you can tell me you’re sorry?”

 

“I’m not gonna lie!  I did tell Connor I couldn’t go!  I told him that in school last week.  But he just showed up today without tellin’ me he was gonna.”

 

“Oh. So that makes you getting in that van and heading to Anchorage okay?”

 

“I didn’t say that.  But all my friends were with him.  I...I was gonna look dumb if I said no.”

 

“And you don’t think you looked dumb when I had to track you down and bring you back because you’d disobeyed me?”

 

“That’s not my fault, it’s yours.”

 

“Lose the attitude, young man. We discussed this trip several times and I told you no, that you couldn’t go.  I offered you a reasonable alternative, and you turned it down.  Now that’s where it should have ended. But, instead, you got in that van when you knew you shouldn’t have.  You left me a note tellin’ me you were at Gus’s, when the truth is Gus never called you to come into work early.”

 

“I...I didn’t know what else to say.”

 

“Of course you didn’t know what else to say!  The entire day was one big lie, wasn’t it?”

 

“Look, I said I was sor—“

 

“And what if it hadn’t started raining?  Gus would have been expecting you to show up to work at one o’clock.  Not to mention that I would have been expecting you home by seven.”

 

“I know.  I was gonna call you once we got to Anchorage and let you know where I—“

 

“Oh, so you were going to call me, huh?  And what did you think was gonna happen then?  That I was gonna tell you it was all right that you’d done exactly what I’d told you not to?”

 

“Quit treating me this way!  Quit treating me like a baby!”

 

“Then quit acting like one!”

 

“I hate this!  I hate the way you treat me!  It’s because you’re old!  None of my friends have to follow the rules I do.”

 

“I’d say you’re wrong about that, considering Kylee and Matt rode back with us.”

 

“Probably because they were afraid you were gonna narc on ‘em to their folks.”

 

“No. Probably because they didn’t have permission to be on that trip. Probably because they’d been told no, just like you had been.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. You ruined it for everyone!”

 

“I ruined what?  A concert where every other word the group screams is a four-letter one, and then the beer bash you were planning to have afterwards?”

 

“I wasn’t drinking.”

 

“Trevor, I know there was beer in that van.”

 

“I never said there wasn’t.  But I wasn’t drinking.  I wasn’t gonna drink.”

 

“I wish I could believe that.”

 

“You can.”

 

“Right now, your word doesn’t mean a whole lot.”

 

“That’s because you’re not being fair.  You’re not listening to what I say.  You’re only hearing what you wanna hear.”

 

“That’s not true. All I’m doing is stating the facts.”

 

“The facts as you see them. You’re too old! You don’t understand what it’s like to be a teenager.”

 

“I understand a lot more than you think I do.”

 

“No, you don’t! Connor’s parents aren’t like you.  And neither are Michael’s or Jake’s.  They’re young.  They’re young enough to be your kids.”

 

“Oh, so I’m not like Connor’s parents.  So there’s something wrong with me because I don’t allow my fifteen-year- old to ride to Anchorage with an inexperienced driver, spend the night in a hotel room with four girls, and take along three cases of beer besides!”

 

“Yeah,” Trevor challenged, “there’s something wrong with you. You just don’t get it.”

 

“If those are the rules Connor’s parents play by, then I don’t wanna get it.  They can set whatever standards they want to for their son, but I’m the one who sets the standards for you.”

 

“I wish it wasn’t that way!”

 

“Well, it is, so get used to it.”

 

“I don’t wanna get used to it!”

 

“From where I’m standing, I don’t see that you have much choice.”

 

“So what’s that mean? For the next three years you’re gonna treat me like I’m eight?”

 

“If you keep acting like you’re eight, then yes, I’ll have to treat you like you’re eight.”

 

For the first time in his life Trevor used a phrase he’d only heard, but never put into practice until this moment when his anger overruled his common sense, and overruled the morals his father had instilled in him.

 

“Fuck you!”

 

The boy’s head flew to the right when he was given an open-handed slap to his left cheek.  He stared at his father with shock as his face burned and turned red. He ran from the office, racing up the stairs until he reached his room.  The door was slammed with enough force to rattle the pictures on the great room’s walls.

 

Johnny turned and placed his hands on his desk. He leaned forward as he hung his head.  He wondered how he and Trevor had reached this point.  He wondered how, as a father, he cried, “Do over!” with the hope that somehow, he could relive the last ten minutes with the wisdom to handle the situation better than he had.

 

The trouble was, as Johnny had learned long ago, there were few do-overs during the process of parenthood.  All you could do was go forward.  And right now, going forward scared him.

 

_________________________

 

Libby,

 

     My pops and I had a huge fight tonight.  I swore at him and he slapped me.  I can’t stand living here anymore.

 

Trevor

 

 

Part 2