Chapter 56

Joanne stood in front of the open door to John's room. There was really no reason for her to go inside. She'd thrown herself into cleaning the house from top to bottom this morning - partly because it really needed it after two weeks of her own indifference, and partly in an effort to keep herself occupied. Though she knew she was doing better in how she was coping with her son's disappearance, the siren call of despair and depression still lurked dangerously close. Left to idleness, her mind still tended to wander into the darkness. Dr. Edwards had told her, in the elderly psychologist's eccentric way, that those who chose to pitch their tipi on that sad street, lived alone.

Joanne smiled softly, remembering the woman's words. Though stated oddly, Joanne understood the meaning. If she wanted to spend her life pining for John and shutting out the world, she would lose the rest of her family.

But her round of vacuuming, dusting, and overall cleaning had inevitably brought her here, from the back of the house to this doorway. Standing in front of the small room that had once served as an office and den, then later lovingly transformed into a little boy's bedroom, Joanne's heart ached to continue inside; to go in and clean this room as if it needed it as well. As if John were home and living here and making all the little messes a five year old created just by being five.

But the truth was, the room was immaculate. The bed was made, the toys and books all put away on the shelves and in the toy box. There were no dirty clothes on the floor, no crumbs in the carpet that gave away covert raids on the pantry when Mom wasn't looking. No reason at all for Joanne to come in with the vacuum cleaner or dust rag or laundry basket. No reason at all.

But she came in anyway.

Just once more, she told herself. I won't stay long. Just this once.

She turned off the vacuum and walked in slowly, not wanting to disturb the silence, and stood at the foot of John's bed. The spread with the little Dalmatians in fire hats was neatly in place. The much-loved bunny with one eye missing sat on the pillow waiting for its owner to return. It had been a gift from Johnny, given to John on his first birthday, and the boy had slept with it every night since.

Joanne felt the familiar sting of tears as she thought of how many times recently she'd tried to throw the ragged looking stuffed animal out, only to have John clutch it tightly and inform her it was his bestest friend forever and he would never in a bazillion years throw it away.

She looked at the toy now, its head flopped to one side, its once-soft fur worn and matted, and she knew she would never throw it out. Not now. It would always sit there - waiting - as she waited.

Unbidden came a flash of memory. Just a few short months ago she'd lain on this bed beside her son, reading him Peter Pan. Not the Disney picture book he'd had since he was a toddler, but the real story. She didn't even know how he'd known there was any different version, but he'd seen it on one of their trips to the library and had insisted on checking it out.

They'd read it through several times during the two weeks they had it. John had loved every minute of it, and had giggled whenever Tinkerbell called anyone an ass. But what played out in Joanne's mind at this moment more than anything else was the part of the story when the children came home. How Mrs. Darling had refused to close the windows; always leaving them open in an invitation for her children to return to her. And when they finally had, she hadn't reacted. She'd seen them so often in their beds in her dreams that she thought she was still dreaming.

Joanne gazed at John's empty bed and wondered if that's what it would be like for her. Would she forever see her little boy asleep in his bed? Every time she opened the door to this room would she expect to see him lying here, his bunny tucked under his arm? A soft sound, not quite a sob, escaped from her throat before she could hold it back, and Joanne grabbed at the short posts at the foot of John's bed in an effort to keep herself from sinking to the floor.

"Mom! Mom, I'm home!"

Joanne froze, her hand still gripping the bedpost, her knuckles white.

"Hey, Mom, I'm home!"

She closed her eyes. God, I'm losing my mind. After all this time, I'm finally losing my mind.

"Mo-om!

His voice was so clear, so close. Joanne could no longer hold out against the madness. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the doorway. There stood John, a big grin on his impish face, his eyes dancing with excitement.

Joanne's mind fought hard to register everything about him... that he looked clean and healthy and happy. That he was wearing the same clothes he'd had on the day he disappeared. Everything about her son seemed to say that he'd never been gone. That this had all been a nightmare and she was finally waking up. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. And then she had no more time to think of anything as John launched himself across the room and into her outstretched arms.

Caught somewhere between shock and disbelief, Joanne legs gave out and, still holding John, she sank to the floor of the bedroom. For a length of time she would never be able to measure, all she could do was hold tightly to the little boy in her arms, showering the top of his head with tears and kisses and softly murmured words of joy.

The first return to conscious thought brought with it uncertainty, a jolt of fear that she truly had lost her grip on reality. She pulled back, holding John's face between her hands and gazed down into his wide hazel eyes. His face was blurred by the tears Joanne couldn't stop, but she could see his happy ear to ear smile, and he felt real enough under her touch.

"John... baby..." Her voice was ragged with emotion, but she managed to get the words out. "Are you all right? Where have you been? How did you get here?"

The questions poured out at last, but she didn't even wait for him to answer before she pulled him close again, holding him tightly against her body, content to stay this way forever and never let him out of her arms again. If this was insanity - some Peter Pan hallucination - if John was here in this room, visible only to his mother's hungry eyes, then Joanne was more than willing to stay here.

But the moment didn't last forever. This dream image of John began to wiggle out of her grasp that had become too tight for comfort. He didn't leave her lap, but he sat up straight and began his own stream of questions.

"Did you miss me, Mom? Where's Dad? And Jenny and Chris? Did they miss me? Don't cry, Mommy, I'm home now. Did I miss school yet? I hope not. I wouldn't wanna flunk kindergarten. Can they flunk you for missing the first day? My room looks just the same, Mom. How can it do that? I was gone forever. It should be different..."

It is different. It's different now because John's here. The room's alive again. It's warm and alive. He's alive... John's alive...

"Mom? Mom, are you okay?"

Her hands moved over his arms and shoulders. He felt solid and real. No illusion. This was a living, breathing child she was holding. She ran a trembling hand through his hair, noticing for the first time that it seemed longer, shaggier than it had been. It wasn't much, and no one but a mother would have notice. But it was enough to convince Joanne that time had passed, that John had been gone. It wasn't a dream. The nightmare had happened. But it was over.

Her hand moved through his hair again, coming to rest on his tanned cheek.

"Baby," she whispered softly. "Where have you been?"

She saw something flash through his eyes briefly; an uncertainty in his face. But it was gone so fast she couldn't be sure what it was. Then he drew himself up and began his tale.

Chapter 57

Roy shuffled slowly towards the engine, pausing at a dribbling hydrant to rinse off his helmet. On impulse, he dropped the helmet to the sidewalk with a clunk and filled both his filthy hands with water, splashing it on his hot, sooty face.

It had been bad. A large apartment complex, fully involved by the time they got there. It was a fairly new building, but somebody had screwed up big time. The sprinkler system hadn't worked right and neither had the alarms, catching most of the tenants in the process of getting ready for work. Roy couldn't count the number of barely dressed, confused residents he'd seen milling about in a daze. And he didn't want to count the number of victims brought out of the fire floors by dozens of stark faced paramedics and firefighters.

Too many. Far too many. And for no reason. Because some builder had taken a cut back, or had fudged a report. Or because some inspector had been too busy to do his job right. Roy didn't figure they'd ever know for sure. At least not until the investigators went over everything with a fine tooth comb.

He sighed and picked up his helmet. It was one of those times when he wondered why he stayed with the department. When a man wondered what good he was doing.

"Hey, Cap!"

Roy turned at the sound of Weiss's voice. The last few hours had been grueling on his crew. Roy knew of at least two fatalities his men had brought out of one apartment, and there had been countless others, in varying degrees of injury. His paramedics were still at Rampart with the last of the victims they'd worked on. Roy didn't know if the mother and her son were going to make it. Judging from the looks on Craig and Brett's faces, odds were against it. But then, it would be hard to judge anything from his paramedics’ demeanor except that they were exhausted

It was true of all of them. They were all beat. Roy could see it in Tom's face as he met up with his captain and copied Roy's earlier actions at the hydrant.

"Chief Stanley wants to see you," Weiss informed Roy as he straightened up, his grimy face dripping dirty water. "He says it's important."

"Okay." Roy jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards their rig, where his engineer was busy re-packing the hose lines they'd used on the fire. "Why don't you round up Cookie and go give Mac a hand. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to head back to the barn."

"Ditto here, Cap," Tom answered with a snort, then trotted away to find Andy Cook, the remaining member of their crew.

Confident that his men could do their jobs without him for a time, Roy headed towards the command post to find Hank.

A summons from his battalion chief wasn't unusual, especially on a call like this. There were always loose ends to tie up, reports to make, questions to answer. Hank Stanley had proven himself to be as good a battalion chief as he'd been a captain, and Roy never questioned why his superior would want to see him. It wasn't until he got close enough to see Hank standing by his red, department issued Bronco, talking to a pair of police officers that Roy started to feel apprehensive.

They're here for me.

He knew it before Hank even opened his mouth. But he listened to the words numbly. The tone in Hank's voice was flat, as if he was relaying a message he didn't want to be the bearer of.

"Roy... seems there's an emergency. You're needed at home."

Roy nodded, slowly moving his gaze from Hank to the deputy beside him. "Do, uh..." He had to clear his throat, and told himself it was because of the smoke. "Do you know why?"

The officer shook his head regretfully. "I just have orders to bring you home. Sorry." He held out his hand to gesture toward his squad car.

Roy knew the man was waiting for him to follow, but he was having a hard time getting his feet to move. He felt Hank's hand on his shoulder.

"I'll let your crew know. Why don't you give me your keys. I'll make sure your car gets home."

He didn't consciously make his hand move toward his pocket. But somehow he found himself handing his keys over, and his helmet as well. He felt Hank's hand squeeze his shoulder once, then let go.

"Captain DeSoto?"

The officer was still waiting. Roy took a deep breath and somehow got his body moving in the right direction. Before long he was sitting in the front seat of the black and white. The deputy closed the door for him, then trotted around the front of his car and slid in behind the wheel.

They drove slowly as they wound their way through all the emergency vehicles. Roy watched as they passed his own engine, saw his men doing their jobs. Mac was standing in the hose bed, taking up the lines as Tom and Andy passed them up. They didn't know yet. But they would soon enough. Everyone would know soon enough.

John's dead. I don't know where they found his body. Remains. They call it remains. After all this time, there wouldn't be a recognizable body. They must have made the I.D. through the dental records Dr. Stouffer gave them. That's the only way they would be able to tell. But then, how many five year old boys are missing out in the desert? Any remains they found would have to be John's.

Roy closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the window, not caring to watch the passing scenery that was speeding by them now that they'd left the fire scene.

Joanne won't be able to deal with this. She won't even be able to say goodbye. It's not fair that she won't get to hold John one more time. A mother should be able to hold her little boy and tell him goodbye. But it won't happen. There's nothing left to hold. Nothing left...

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image of his precious son lying in the sand, the sun and the animals doing their worst, leaving his small skeleton bleached white in the heat.

I'm sorry, John. I'm so sorry I didn't find you. Daddy's so sorry...

"Captain DeSoto?"

Roy opened his eyes, surprised to see they were already home. He absently registered the half dozen squad cars parked along the street, and the blue clad officers milling around his driveway and front yard. He didn't care what they were doing. It didn't matter now.

He climbed out of the car and hurried up the walkway. His one thought now was that Joanne would need him. He had to get to Joanne.

When he looked back on that day, he supposed he made quite a sight as he rushed up to the front door. Dirty and sweat streaked and reeking of smoke, still wearing his turnouts, his hair plastered to his head. But he didn't care. For once he didn't stop to worry about what Joanne would say when he tracked wet, dirty shoes on her carpet or brought the stench of the job into the house. He didn't care about what he must have looked like to the young police officers he brushed past, or what the expressions on their faces might have meant.

As he pushed through the men milling about his front steps, he saw a man in a suit he recognized hurrying towards him. Detective Carroll from the L.A. County Sheriff. He was the man they'd dealt with locally. He met Roy halfway up the sidewalk.

"Captain DeSoto, I'm glad you're finally here. He's been asking for you."

"Where's my wife?" Roy demanded, not really caring who needed to talk to him or what reports or forms they would have to fill out before they could close the case. At the moment all he wanted was to get to Joanne.

"They're in the living room. We haven't really talked to him yet. Not in depth, you understand. We wanted to wait until you got here. And Detective Salazar is technically in charge anyway. We should wait for him to get here. He's on his way. Now, don't worry. He seems okay, but we'll need to have a doctor check him out. I'm sure you'll want that too."

Roy only half listened, not understanding what the man was going on and on about. The police could fight amongst themselves about jurisdiction and protocol. None of that mattered now. He pushed through a sea of cops in suits until he finally entered his living room. He could see Joanne sitting forward on the couch. Jennifer was beside her, one arm on her mother's shoulder.

"Jo?"

Roy barely recognized the strangled croak that came out of his throat as his own voice, but Joanne didn't have any trouble. She sat up straight, turned her head and breathed out his name in a joyous whisper.

"Roy!"

"Daddy!"

He heard John's voice at the same time he saw his son, and he froze, his heart and breathing both seemingly stopped. His boy was grinning at him from where he'd been sitting in his mother's lap, hidden from Roy's view.

John!

He wasn't sure he said it. He might have only prayed it. But it didn't matter. In an instant his son had jumped down from Joanne's lap and covered the few feet between them. He ran to Roy with his arms outstretched in such a familiar invitation that Roy responded automatically, breaking through the shock that had immobilized him. He reached down and scooped John up into his arms, hardly aware that his heart had started beating again.

"Daddy, I'm home now. I'm home safe an' sound now," John chattered in Roy's ear. His arms were wound tightly around his father's neck, his soft cheek pressed against Roy's dirty one. "I'm not hurt one single bit an' I never saw anybody but Mrs. Quacker who brought me home in a blue car. I promise I'm home now, Daddy."

Roy didn't know what John was talking about, but he didn't care. He also didn't care about the tears that were running down his face until his son drew back and rubbed at them.

"Don't cry, Daddy. You can't be sad now, 'cause I'm home and not lost anymore."

"I'm not sad, buddy," Roy told him, finding his voice at last, though it was roughened by smoke and emotion. "I'm so happy you're home I just can't keep it inside."

"An' it's comin' out your eyes?" John laughed then wrinkled his nose. "You're all smokey, Dad. Mom's gonna yell at you."

Roy smiled and glanced down at Joanne whose face was also streaked with happy tears. "Oh, I don't think Mom'll mind too much this time."

"Not at all," Joanne promised. She got up and stood beside Roy, her hand running over the top of John's head. "Not at all, sweetie."

Roy let his forehead rest against Joanne's, then he smiled over at Jenny. She didn't need any further encouragement and jumped up to join in the reunion, her eyes brimming with her own happy tears. Roy shifted John just enough that he could reach out and bring his daughter close to his side. He wanted all his family here. He needed to touch them all.

"Where's Chris? Does he know?"

"We called Mr.Mattson," Jenny answered as she swiped at her nose with a Kleenex. "He's gonna try and reach Chris and send him home."

"Okay. That sounds good." Roy sniffed at the tears that were still welling up. "That sounds great."

"Captain DeSoto?"

Roy turned to see Detective Carroll standing a few feet away. Most of the other officers were gone.

"We're going to step outside... let you and your family have some time together. When Detective Salazar gets here though, he'll want to talk to John."

Roy nodded his gratitude as the officer stepped out. In a moment the front door closed, leaving the DeSotos to themselves.

"Who wants to talk to me, Dad?" John asked, his face apprehensive.

"A policeman, son. It'll be okay, you'll see."

"He just wants you to tell him what happened," Joanne added encouragingly. "Like I told you before. It won't be scary, and Dad and I will be right here with you."

"But I already told you, Mom," John argued, his voice sounding concerned.

"I know, sweetheart," Joanne assured him. "The police just need to make sure you didn't forget anything." She leaned in to kiss his cheek and wrinkled her nose in an imitation of her son's earlier gesture. "Whew, you really do reek, Roy," she laughed. "Why don't you take a shower. I'll make us some sandwiches. I'm sure you haven't eaten, and I know a certain little boy who never refuses a peanut butter sandwich."

"That sounds like a plan to me," Roy chuckled, knowing he really did smell pretty bad. With great reluctance he set John down, regretting already the loss of contact with his son. Joanne must have felt exactly as he did, for she immediately put her arm around the boy and pulled him close.

"You want to help me make lunch, baby?"

John nodded and went along with Joanne into the kitchen.

"I'll help too, Mom," Jennifer volunteered and happily followed after them, teenage reluctance for chores temporarily set aside.

Roy watched them go, hesitant to take his eyes off of them, but he knew he needed to get his shower in before Salazar showed up. He didn't think he'd get a chance to after that. As he slowly turned toward the hallway, he heard John's voice asking plaintively if they couldn't have bologna instead of peanut butter.

He smiled and shrugged out of his turnout coat, peeling down his suspenders as he entered his bedroom. It would feel good to get under the shower and feel clean, but nowhere near as good as being back with his family.

Chapter 58

Joanne and Roy couldn’t soak up enough of their youngest child.  They had him sit between them at the table, and were scooted so close to him that John barely had enough elbow room to lift his bologna sandwich to his mouth.  Roy watched his son for any signs of distress.  John seemed healthy, happy and whole.  From the bare skin his shorts and short-sleeved shirt revealed there wasn’t so much as scratch on him, let alone a bruise or any other type of mark.   By looking at the child and studying his demeanor, it was as though the events of the last two weeks hadn’t existed.   As though John had never gone missing, and that they’d just returned home for their vacation without incident.

 

But the last two weeks had happened, which is what made Roy call Rampart’s ER from the phone in his bedroom after he’d gotten out of the shower and dressed.  He was thankful Dixie answered.  When he told her it was important he speak to Dr. Brackett, she didn’t grill him as to why, but simply said, “I’ll track him down for you, Roy.  Hold on a minute, please.”

 

When Brackett finally picked up the phone, Roy apologized for any interruption he’d caused, then asked the man if he could speak to him in confidence. 

 

“Certainly, Roy.  You know the answer to that question is yes.”

 

Roy could tell by Brackett’s tone the man was expecting the worst.  Expecting to be told John had been found dead, and that Roy needed the doctor’s help in some way – identifying the body, prescribing a sedative for Joanne, being present when the autopsy was performed, or some other service no doctor wants to have to provide a long-time colleague’s family.

 

Instead of giving Brackett bad news, however, Roy gave him the good news that John had shown up at home, and apparently unharmed.

 

“I don’t have any details yet.  I just got here a little while ago. We’re waiting for the detective from San Bernardino to come interview John. But when that’s all over with, can I bring him to Rampart to see you?  I’ll feel a lot better after he’s had a physical.  I have to know…I have to know that he wasn’t hurt in any way.”

 

“You bring him by as soon as you can.  Is it all right with you if I share this news with Dixie?  She’s pretty good at getting little boys, and big boys for that matter, to open up and talk about all kinds of things, you know.”

 

“I know. And yeah, you can share it with her.  All I ask is that the two of you keep it between yourselves for now.  I’m sure the news media will get a hold of the story soon enough, but I’d like to keep a three-ring circus from forming around John for as long as possible.”

 

“I understand.  Dix and I’ll keep it in the strictest confidence.  If you don’t see Dix at the nurses’ station when you arrive, bring John directly to my office.  We’ll make his visit as discreet and unobtrusive as we can.”

 

“Thanks, Dr. Brackett. Thanks for everything.”

 

“You’re welcome.  And Roy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Roy heard the smile in Brackett’s voice. “I’m glad John’s home. Tell Joanne I said that too.”

 

“I sure will.  Thanks again.”

 

Roy actually felt sorry for John by the time he finally finished eating.  He could barely take a bite of his sandwich without Joanne pulling him to her chest and kissing his head, or Jennifer reaching across the table to pat his hand, or without Roy himself rubbing the boy’s back. They all had a strong need to touch John, as though that action reaffirmed that he was really here, and this wasn’t all a dream.  Just when things started to settle down a bit and John reached for a cookie from the plate in the center of the table, Chris rushed in.  The whooping and hollering and carrying on that occurred as the two brothers had their reunion in the way only brothers can, ended with John being scooped from his chair and twirled around in circles in Chris’s arms.

 

Questions flew from Chris’s mouth after he’d deposited John back in his chair. The same questions they all had.  So far, the only thing Roy completely understood of John’s answers was that an old lady had dropped him off in front of the house. 

 

“She…she looked kinda like…like Grandma DeSoto,” John said with a triumphant grin, though Roy thought the boy didn’t sound too sure of himself.  Before he could dwell on that, Joanne exclaimed, “Your mother!  We need to call your mother.  And my parents and Eileen. We can’t let them hear about this on the news.”

 

“I know,” Roy agreed. “I’ll need to call Johnny too.  But let’s wait until after Detective Salazar has talked to John. The less people who are here, the less confusing it’ll be for him.”

 

John looked up at his father, cookie crumbs ringing his mouth.  “How come Uncle Johnny didn’t come find me, Dad?  Is he mad at me?  He told me to hide, so I did. I hid real good. Then I waited and waited and waited, but he never came.”

 

Roy ran a hand through his son’s hair.  “Uncle Johnny was hurt, son.  He wasn’t able to come for you.”

 

“Hurt?  Was it those bad boys?  Did they hurt him?”

 

“What do you know about the bad boys?”

 

“Uncle Johnny said they might wanna steal the Rover.  He made me sneak out of it and hide in the ditch. He told me he’d come get me, but he never did.  How’d they hurt him?”

 

“They hit him,” was all Roy said, not wanting to go into the details of the beating with his five year old. “But Uncle Johnny’s gonna be okay. He’s home right now on his ranch resting and getting better every day.”

 

“But are you sure he’s not mad at me?  Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden. Maybe I shoulda’ stayed and helped him. I coulda’ beat those bad guys up for him.  I could karate chopped ‘em like the Ninja Turtles.  Maybe he’s mad ‘cause I hid and didn’t help--”

 

Before John could finish voicing his worries that Johnny might be angry with him, Detective Salazar walked through the front door.  Roy stood to greet the man.

 

After shaking Roy’s hand and nodding a hello to Joanne, Chris, and Jennifer, the detective turned his attention to John.

 

“Well now, this must be the young man who’s had us all so worried.”  The detective held out his hand.  “Hi, John.  I’m Alberto.”

 

John reached out a small hand and shook with the man, giving a shy, “Hi,” at his mother’s encouragement.  Chris stood and leaned against the wall by the patio doors so Roy could offer the detective a seat across the table from John. 

 

While Roy retook his seat next to John, Joanne asked, “Can I get you something to drink or eat, Detective?”

 

“No thank you.”

 

Detective Carroll entered on the heels of Salazar’s, “No thank you.”  He bent down and conferred with Salazar for a moment. Roy heard Carroll say, “None of the neighbors we’ve interviewed so far saw anything,” before moving to stand unobtrusively off to the side of Salazar.  Other law enforcement officers filled Roy’s living room and front yard yet.  He could easily imagine the crowd of neighbors that was gathering outside, no doubt certain the presence of all the policemen meant the DeSoto family was being given bad news about John.  Wouldn’t they be surprised when word finally circulated that John was sitting at the kitchen table eating cookies.

 

Detective Salazar took a pen and a small spiral notepad from the inside breast pocket of his suit coat.  He opened the notepad and clicked on his pen, then looked at John and smiled.

 

“I bet you had quite an adventure, uh, John?”

 

“Yep.  I had lots of ‘ventures.”

 

The detective chuckled.  “Can you tell me about them?”

 

John looked from Joanne to Roy, losing his confidence as quickly as he’d seemed to find it.  Roy smiled and patted John’s back.

 

“Go ahead, son.  Tell Detective Salazar what happened while you were away.”

 

John appeared to be thinking hard for a moment, as thought he wasn’t sure where to begin.  Finally, he turned and looked at the man seated across from him.

 

“I was hiding.”

 

“Hiding?”

 

“Uncle Johnny told me to hide ‘cause those bad boys wanted the Rover.  So I was hiding.”

 

“You’ve been hiding ever since Uncle Johnny told you to?  For over two weeks now?”

 

“Uh huh.  I can hide real good. Just like Katori.”

 

“Who’s Katori?”

 

“He’s a real brave Indian boy. That’s my Indian name too. Uncle Johnny says so.”

 

“Oh.  Well, getting back to how good you remained hidden, we had lots and lots of people looking for you.  Did you hear anyone call your name?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did you see any airplanes or helicopters?”

 

“I heard lots of airplanes. Were they lookin’ for me?”

 

“They sure were.”

 

Roy immediately drew the same conclusion the detective did.  If John had heard airplanes, then he probably hadn’t wandered too far from where Johnny was found. 

 

“Oh.  If I’d known that, I woulda’ waved.”

 

Chris and Jennifer bit back laughs at the kind of candid reply only their little brother would give.  Detective Salazar chuckled again.

 

“Well, that would have been helpful, but it’s all water under the bridge now.  Surely you didn’t stay out in the desert all by yourself, did you, John?”

 

John shook his head.

 

“Where did you go?  Did someone help you?”

 

There was another long hesitation on John’s part.  Roy finally had to urge, “Go on, son. Answer Detective Salazar’s questions.”

 

John hesitated a moment longer, then made a dramatic production of shrugging, as though he’d rehearsed this reaction and his answer for a school play. 

 

“I dunno.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“I dunno.”

 

“You don’t know where you went?”

 

“I dunno.”

 

“Or if someone helped you?”

 

“I dunno.”

 

“John,” Roy gently admonished, “stop goofing around.”

 

“I’m not goofing around, Dad.  I dunno.”

 

“You don’t know what?”

 

“The answers to his questions.”

 

“Son, we know you weren’t in the desert by yourself for two weeks.  Where’d you get food and water from?”

 

“I…I…I walked to a house. Yeah, that’s what I did.  I walked to a house, ‘cause I was bein’ Katori. Tracking animals and stuff. But I didn’t steal anything.  It was okay if I ate some of their food, ‘cause no one was home to ask.  Indians do that, ya’ know.  They share what they have with whoever needs it.”

 

“No one was home where?” Roy asked.

 

“At the house where I stayed.”

 

Detective Salazar took over the questioning again.  “What did this house look like John?”

 

Again, there was a long pause, before John finally launched into such a vivid description that Roy knew it couldn’t be coming from his imagination. He mentioned the lack of a TV set, and an old refrigerator with a tiny icebox, and a funny looking washing machine, and some old toys he’s played with, and an Indian blanket.  The trouble was; Roy had a feeling he knew just whose house John was describing, and by the look on Joanne’s face, he had a feeling she knew whose house he was describing as well.

 

Before the detective could take any of this too seriously, Roy indicated with a slight jerk of his head that he needed to talk to the man.  They stood and walked down the hallway that held the bedrooms.

 

“What is it, Roy?”

 

“I don’t think you should take much stock in what John’s saying about the house.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because except for saying there was no television, he’s describing Gray Wolf’s home.”

 

“Gray Wolf?”

 

“I’m sorry.  Roderick Gage.  Johnny’s grandfather.”

 

“Does Gray Wolf live in Nipton?”

 

“No no.  He lives in Montana.  White Rock, Montana, where Johnny was born and raised.  We went there last summer with Johnny on vacation.  John’s been fascinated with all things Indian ever since.”

 

“So you think this means what?”

 

“I don’t know what it means, other than John’s imagination might have been working overtime to keep him from being frightened.”

 

“Could be. One thing I do know that jives with some of what John’s telling us, is that a lot of folks who live out in the desert don’t lock their doors.  And a lot of the people in that area are elderly – worked in the mines all their lives, or for the railroad, and tend to be kind of reclusive and behind the times, which could explain the absence of a TV, if there’s any truth to that part of his story. It’s possible John ran across a house like he’s describing that was unlocked, and the owner was away for an extended period of time.”

 

“You think he could have stayed there by himself for two weeks?”

 

“I don’t know.  It’s obvious he found food and water, and he’s had some way to stay clean and sheltered from the heat.  The only way we’ll find out more is to ask him.”

 

Roy nodded.   When they returned to the table, John asked, “Dad, you believe me, right?  I didn’t steal anything from that house.”

 

Roy put an arm around the boy’s shoulder. “I know you didn’t, son.  But it’s important that you tell the detective the truth now.”

 

“I am tellin’ him the truth. I was Katori. I was hiding just like Chris and Jenny hid from that bad man in the Pow-Wow cave.  When Uncle Johnny didn’t come for me, I had to live off the land.”

 

“I thought you said you were in a house,” Detective Salazar pointed out.

 

“I was.”

 

“But you just said you had to live off the land.”

 

“Gray Wolf said that all the time. Every time me and him walked to his garden to pick tomatoes and sweet corn.”

 

“Oh, I see.  So it’s just an expression you use then?”

 

John grinned, as though he was happy the man had supplied him with an easy answer.

 

“Yeah. That’s what it is. Gray Wolf knows lots of stuff ‘bout how to survive in the wilderness, and he taught it all to me.”

 

“I bet that comes in handy.”

 

“When you’re hiding it sure does.”

 

Detective Salazar asked John a few more questions about the house he supposedly stayed in, but the boy’s description of it never varied.  It sounded old, with out dated furnishings. That described just about every house that populated the desert from as far south as Needles, all the way to the Nevada state line just outside Vegas.

 

“Let’s not talk about the house any more for now, John.  Let’s talk about today. How’d you get home?”

 

“I walked.”

 

The detective raised a skeptical eyebrow.  “You walked all the way here from the desert?”

 

“No.” John shook his head. “What I mean is, this morning after I ate my breakfast, I got really tired of waitin’ for Uncle Johnny to come get me.  I was missing my mom and dad, and Chris and Jenny, and Kyle, and Grandma DeSoto, and Aunt Eileen, and even Katie Andrews, who lives on the next block and bugs me and Kyle all the time.  So I left the house and started walking.”

 

“Then what happened?”

 

John grinned again, as though he was proud of himself for the answer he was about to give.

 

“A nice old lady in a great big blue car gave me a ride home.”

 

Once again, Roy thought John’s response sounded rehearsed, as though it had been memorized numerous times, yet it was apparent someone had given him a ride home.  Maybe it was a nice old lady in a big blue car.  If so, then they were damn lucky he’d run across a Good Samaritan.

 

Salazar asked, “What was the lady’s name?”

 

“Her name?”

 

“Yes. Did she tell you her name?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“What was it?”

 

“Uh…Mrs. Quacker?” Johnny said with a question in his voice, as though he was waiting for someone to confirm he’d gotten the answer correct.

 

“Quacker? Like a duck.”

 

“What?”

 

“Quack like a duck. Mrs. Quacker.”

 

John shook his head.  “No, not like a duck.”  His eyes roamed the room as though he was thinking hard once again.  Before anyone could stop him, he slipped off his chair, scooted beneath Roy’s arm, and ran for the kitchen.  He opened cabinet after cabinet, obviously in search of something.

 

“John, what are you looking for?” Joanne asked.

 

“Just a minute!”

 

A few seconds later, John emerged from a cabinet with a box of Quaker Oats in his hand.  He held them up for the detective to see.

 

“Her.”

 

“Her?”

 

“Yeah, this is who brought me home.”

 

“The man on the Quaker Oats box?”

 

“No. Mrs. Quaker. That was her name.”

 

Joanne stood to retrieve her son. “Here. Put that down and come back and sit at the table.”

 

When John was reseated, the detective asked, “She told you that was her name?  Mrs. Quaker?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“What did she look like?”

 

“Grandma Stellman.”

 

Joanne looked at her son.  “You told me she looked like Grandma DeSoto.”

 

“She--she did. She looked like both of them.”

 

Joanne and Roy exchanged glances over John’s head.  Their mothers looked nothing alike.  Roy’s mother was short, pudgy, gray haired, wore orthopedic shoes with thick spongy heels, and favored loose fitting dresses or slacks with elastic waists. Joanne’s mother was tall and willowy, with bird-like arms and legs. She dyed her hair “sunset brown” never allowing a speck of gray to show, and dressed stylishly in the latest fashions.  While Roy’s mother looked she belonged in a Norman Rockwell painting, Joanne’s mother looked like the star of a Miss Clairol commercial.

 

Detective Salazar asked John a few more questions.  He never was able to determine where exactly John hooked up with the elusive Mrs. Quaker, or how much time passed between when she picked him up and when he arrived home.  John’s first answer in that regard was, “It took forever to get home.”

 

His second answer bordered on five-year-old silliness.

 

“It took a hundred days.  If Mrs. Quaker woulda’ had a rocket ship, we coulda’ got here a lot sooner.”

 

The detective seemed to sense he no longer held the young boy’s attention, and that John had sat through all the questioning he was capable of for the time being.

 

“Thank you, John, for answering all my questions.”

 

“We’re done now?”

 

“We sure are.”

 

He looked at his mother. “Can I go watch TV?”

 

Before Joanne could answer, Roy said, “I think that’s a good idea.” He glanced at his oldest son, still standing quietly by the patio doors. “Chris, why don’t you and Jennifer take John into your room and watch TV there for a while.”

 

“Sure, Dad.”

 

Chris lifted his little brother from his chair, carrying John to his bedroom on his shoulders.  Jennifer followed without protest, causing Roy to surmise that both she and Chris understood he wanted John out of earshot.

 

Joanne was the first one to speak this time.  As soon as she heard the TV come on in Chris’s room, and then the door shut, she asked, “What’ll be done now, Detective?”

 

“Unless a physical examination proves that John has been injured or abused in some way, I’ll be honest with you.  I doubt my superiors will allow what I’d like to do.”

 

“What’s that?” Roy asked.

 

“A house to house search.  The trouble with that is; we don’t know with any certainty where John was.  While it’s logical to assume he couldn’t have been too far from where Mr. Gage was found, I can’t prove that without a margin of error weighing into all of this.  There could be things he’s not telling us.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like someone gave him a ride somewhere for starters. And if so, who?  And where?”

 

“But if that happened,” Joanne said, “why didn’t that person take him to the police? Surely with everything that was on TV and the radio about his disappearance, everyone in that area had to have known about him.”

 

The man shrugged. “Maybe. But like I said, some of those desert people are pretty reclusive.  Someone might have simply offered him a ride that he accepted.  Why the person would have then let him get out, or left him at an empty house, I don’t know. Given that, I have to go with what John told us. That he walked a while, and then came across a house that was unlocked, and evidently unoccupied.”

 

“So what happens next?” Roy asked. 

 

“What happens next is that I contact Nipton’s chief of police, Paul Simmons. He spent a few days right after John disappeared talking to everyone in the area, making them aware that John was missing, and asking if they’d seen him, or seen anything suspicious.  He even nosed around the homes and properties of a few people who were known to cause trouble out that way.  He didn’t come up with anything that made him conclude anyone was involved in foul play where your son was concerned.  What I’d like to ask Paul to do now is find out if anyone in the area has been gone for several weeks on vacation.  Or if any of the local residents have been hospitalized recently, or put in a nursing home, or sent to live with a relative. Anything at all that might lead us to a house that was uninhabited during the last two weeks.”   

 

Joanne asked,  “What about this Mrs. Quaker John spoke of?”

 

“I’ll ask Chief Simmons.  Possibly he’ll know of a Mrs. Quaker who lives in the area.  I’ll also have the name run through the DMV and see if we can match up an elderly woman with that name to a “big blue car” as John described it.”

 

“It’s pretty vague,” Roy commented.

 

“It is,” Salazar agreed. “But he’s only five years old, so he’s not going to be able to supply us with the kind of details that a fifteen year old could.”

 

“Is there anything else we can do?”

 

“Not at this point, other than to take John to your family physician just as soon as possible, and then call me to let me know the results of his exam.”

 

“I’ve already got the appointment made. We’re taking John to see Dr. Brackett at Rampart General just as soon as you’re finished questioning him.”

 

“I’m finished.” 

 

The detective stood to leave.  Roy and Joanne walked him and Detective Carroll to the door.  The other officers who’d been milling about in the living room exited ahead of the detectives.

 

Detective Carroll addressed Roy and Joanne.  “Mr. and Mrs. DeSoto, I’m glad everything is looking positive so far, and that John’s back with you.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Thanks for all your help.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

Detective Salazar then said his goodbyes. “I’ll talk to you after John’s seen the doctor?”

 

“Yes,” Roy assured. “I’ll call you first thing.”

 

“To echo Detective Carroll, at this point I’d say we should all be thankful he’s been returned to you, no matter what circumstances got him here.  I hope the doctor finds no evidence of abuse or trauma of any kind, but if he does, please remember there are many sources you can turn to for help.  The important thing is, unlike a lot of parents who’ve gone through what you have, your child came back to you.”

 

Joanne leaned into Roy’s side, twining her arm with his. “Believe me, Detective, we know how lucky we are.”

 

“We sure do,” Roy agreed.

 

Roy shook hands with the man while thanking him for all his help.  He and Joanne watched the men walk out the front door.  As Roy had suspected, his front yard and sidewalk were filled with curious neighbors.  By the smiles he saw, he knew word was spreading that John was home.  He wanted to talk to all of them, thank them for their support and assistance throughout this ordeal, but that would have to wait. They needed to get John to Rampart, then start notifying family, friends, and Roy’s co-workers, that John was safe and back at home.

 

Roy closed the door, needing to block out the crowd so he could have a moment of privacy with his wife.  As they stood alone in the living room, Roy and Joanne finally had the chance to cry, and kiss, and hug, and laugh, as they clung to one another giving thanks for John’s homecoming.

 

Chapter 59

It had taken a good deal of persuasive skills to convince John it was in his best interest to go with his parents to see Dr. Brackett.

 

“But I just saw Dr. Holden before we went on vacation.”

 

“We know,” Roy acknowledged, “but we want to make sure you’re okay.”

 

“I’m okay, Dad.”

 

Roy smiled at the emphatic way his son stated that assurance.

 

“I’m sure you are, but your mom and I need to know for certain.  School starts soon.  We don’t want you to be sick for your first day.”

 

“But I just got home. I don’t wanna go anywhere,” the boy whined from where he was snuggled in Chris’s arms, laying between his brother and sister on one of the twin beds in Chris’s room.

 

Although Roy usually didn’t result to bribery with his children, in this case he did so without guilt.

 

“I’ll tell you what. If you come with Mom and me to Rampart without making a fuss, we’ll have a party when we get back.”

 

John’s eyes lit up. “A party?”

 

“You bet. A big party so everyone can welcome you home.”

 

“Will we swim in the pool?”

 

“We sure will.”

 

“I’ve been wanting McDonald’s for a long time. Can we have McDonald’s?”

 

“Sure. How about McDonald’s along with some pizzas?”

 

“Yeah!  Can Kyle come?”

 

“You bet.”

 

“And Elizabeth?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“How about Adam?”

 

“Yep, Adam too.”

 

“And I suppose we should invite Katie, uh?  Just so her feelings won’t be hurt.”

 

“We’ll invite Katie,” Roy confirmed. “While we’re gone, Chris and Jenny will make some phone calls.  Grandma DeSoto, Aunt Eileen, Grandma and Grandpa Stellman, Kyle, Adam, Katie…they’ll all be here.”

 

“And Uncle Johnny?”

 

“I’ll call him myself from Rampart.”

 

“Well…okay.  I guess I can go see Dr. Brackett if I’m gonna get a party.”

 

“Good boy.”

 

As the kids clambered off the bed, Roy left instructions for his oldest children to call anyone and everyone they could think of who’d like to be made aware John was home.  He reached for his wallet and pulled out a wad of bills without bothering to count them, then fished out a credit card.

 

“Here, Chris.  The cash is for a few dozen hamburgers from McDonald’s.  Use the credit card for the pizzas.  Get as many as you think we’ll need.  Oh, and go to the store and stock up on soda and beer, okay?  And you’d better get some paper plates and napkins.”

 

“Sure, Dad.”

 

“And see what we’ve got in the freezer.  I think there’s two pans of lasagna that Mrs. Datello dropped off. There’s probably other stuff I’ve forgotten about too.  Put whatever you can find into the oven that’ll feed an army of people.”

 

“Will do.”

 

Roy kissed Jennifer’s forehead. “And you spread the word. This is one time when I don’t care how long you’re on the phone.”

 

Jennifer laughed as Roy took John by the hand and hurried from the room.  Roy appreciated the two good teenagers he’d raised as he heard Chris and Jen discussing how they’d split up the various duties they’d been assigned. 

 

The teenagers’ voices faded when Roy met up with Joanne down the hall. Together, they ushered John toward the front door before he could offer further protests.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Lift your arms up,” Roy instructed.

 

John thrust his arms in the air, allowing his father to put his shirt back on him.  Roy had remained in the examination room with John, while Joanne was taken to the nurses’ lounge by Dixie in order to keep her away from any nosey reporter who might be lurking in the ER. A child sized hospital gown was lying across the table when they arrived.  Brackett asked Roy to help John undress and put the gown on.  John didn’t like that idea too much, but when Roy reminded him of the party waiting for him at home, he reluctantly agreed to exchange his clothes for the “dress” as he called it with as much disdain as a five year old boy could muster.

 

John had never experienced such a thorough exam, and didn’t appreciate some of the places Dr. Brackett poked and prodded, nor did he fully understand some of the questions Dr. Brackett asked.  Why would someone want to touch him where his shorts covered him, or ask him to touch them in those places?  That was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard of.  And why would someone want to take his picture with his clothes off?  That was even stupider.  As if John would take his clothes off and let someone take his picture. He’d karate chop ‘em for sure.

 

Therefore, “No way,” was John’s firm answer to any question Brackett asked that was meant to give the doctor and Roy insight as to whether or not John had been sexually abused, or been made a part of a child pornography ring. 

 

Once the examination was finished, Brackett had Roy help John get dressed while he went to find Dixie. Roy was tying John’s tennis shoes when Brackett returned with the nurse.

 

“John, how would you like to take a walk with Dixie?”

 

“Where to?”

 

Dixie put her hands on her hips, acting offended. “I have to take you some place specific in order to get you to take a walk with me?”

 

John gave her the same charming grin his Uncle Johnny possessed, even though that was genetically impossible.  “Well…some place fun would be nice.”

 

“Some place fun, huh?  Then how about to the playground outside the cafeteria?”

 

“Okay. But I can’t stay long. We’re gonna have a party for me when we get home.”

 

“A party?”

 

“Yeah.  Can you come, Dixie?” The boy looked at the doctor. “And you too, Dr. Brackett? Can you come?”

 

The doctor bent, putting a hand on each side of the exam table so he was eye to eye with the boy seated there.  “Tell you what, I’ll try.  If I don’t get stuck here too late, I’ll stop by.”

 

“Good.  We’re gonna have pizza and McDonald’s.”

 

“Then I’ll try to come by for sure.”

 

“And you, Dixie? Can you come?”

 

“You bet I can.”

 

The nurse looked at Roy for further instructions.

 

“Just show up whenever you can.  I don’t know how many people will be there, or how long this shindig will last, but we’re having a party.”

 

“Sounds like a good time to me.”  Dixie stood back while Roy lifted John from the table and set him on his feet. “Now, young man, let’s go to the playground for a while, then we’ll get something to drink and join your mom.”

 

“Where is my mom?”

 

“She’s relaxing in the nurses’ lounge with a cup of coffee.”

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

“I’ll come and get you and Mom in a few minutes,” Roy told his son.

 

“All right.”

 

The boy left without protest.  Whether he’d actually open up and say anything to Dixie about his experience that he hadn’t already told Detective Salazar, Roy didn’t know, but he figured it didn’t hurt to let Dix try. He turned to the physician.

 

“Well?”

 

The doctor looked over the notes he’d made. “Everything looks excellent to me, Roy.  According to the information you gave me, John’s weight is the same as it was when Dr. Holden saw him last month, and his vital signs are all normal for a child his age.  His ears look good, as does his throat and nose. His chest is clear, too.  If he has an infection, I’m not seeing signs of it yet.  The blood work and urinalysis will give us the final answers where that’s concerned. I should have the results tomorrow. I’ll call you as soon I’ve had the chance to look at them.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“And you said his appetite’s good?”

 

“So far.  He ate a bologna sandwich, a bowl of canned peaches, and two cookies about one-thirty. And he’s already been begging me for McDonald’s hamburgers for his party this evening.”

 

“Those are good signs then.”

 

“What about…”

 

Brackett shook his head.  “I didn’t see any indications of sexual abuse.  None at all.  Or any type of abuse, for that matter. No bruises, no scratches, no welts, no cuts, no dried blood or signs of any irritation.”

 

“I didn’t see any of those things either.”

 

“If he was staying with someone, that person took good care of him.”

 

“But he says he wasn’t.  He says he was alone in a house.”

 

“Do you really believe that?”

 

“I don’t know.  I mean…it is a stretch for me to think he’d stay in a strange house by himself for over two weeks, especially at night.”

 

  “It’s a stretch for me to think, too, but on the other hand, I suppose stranger things have happened.”

 

“I suppose.” Roy thought a moment, then asked, “What should we do now?  Can he start school after Labor Day like he’s scheduled to?”

 

“Unless the test results indicate some sort of health problem, which I highly doubt, then yes, he can start school on time.  As far as what you do, I’d say treat him normally.  He doesn’t seem to be emotionally traumatized, though that type of reaction to a frightening experience can crop up at a later date.”

 

Roy nodded, aware of what post-traumatic stress disorder entailed.

 

“You and Joanne should watch for mood swings, changes in appetite, habits, or sleeping patterns.  Any of those things might be the first indicator that John’s having trouble dealing with his experience.  My other suggestion is to have John speak with Dr. Edwards.”

 

“Does she work with children?”

 

“Not on a regular basis, but I have a feeling she and John will hit it off just fine.”

 

Roy chuckled, thinking of the quirky doctor and his equally quirky little boy.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

 

“And if Hephzibah thinks she’s out of her league with John, then let me assure you she’ll recommend a child psychologist.”

 

Roy voiced his complete trust in the woman. “I know she will.”

 

“I’ll speak to her just as soon as I can shag her down. I’ll go over everything concerning John with her, then have her call you.”

 

“I think she’s scheduled to come to the house on Monday to see Joanne as it is.”

 

“If so, that’ll work out good. She can see John then.”

 

“So what do we do in the meantime?”

 

Brackett grinned. “Take your little boy home and enjoy him.”

 

“That’s one thing that’ll be easy to do, Doc.”

 

“I’m sure it will be.”

 

Roy shook hands with the man who’d once been a mentor to him.

 

“Thanks a lot for taking the time to see him today.”

 

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

 

“And please, even if you can only stay for a few minutes, stop by the house tonight and have something to eat with us.”

 

“I’ll do that.”

 

“Is it okay if I use the phone in the nurses’ lounge to call Johnny?  He doesn’t know John’s back yet, and I don’t want him to get that news from the TV before he hears it from me.”

 

“I don’t blame you. Use the phone in my office.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes, go ahead. I’m won’t be in there for a little while yet.”  He held up John’s chart. “I’m heading upstairs to see if Hephzibah is available.”

 

“Okay. Thanks again.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

The men left the examination room together.  Roy turned left at the end of the hall and headed to Kelly Brackett’s office, while the doctor continued on to the elevators.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Roy let the phone at Johnny’s house ring and ring and ring. When it rang for the twentieth time, he hung up.  Johnny was either outside, or someone had picked him up and taken him to run errands.

 

Roy called Hank Stanley next.  The man was probably thinking the worst regarding the news that awaited Roy at home. Like Roy, Hank had been due to go off-duty that morning at eight, and was detained by the apartment fire.  Therefore, Roy assumed he’d reach Hank at his house. 

 

Five minutes later, he’d finished answering all of Hank’s questions, then asked the man to call Headquarters for him and give someone there the good news. 

 

“And hey, Jo and I are having a little party for John this evening.  You and Grace are welcome to stop by.”

 

“We’ll do that, Roy,” the man promised.  “We’d love to be there.”

 

When Roy hung up from speaking with his former captain, he called his engineer, Don “Mac” McWinters.  He gave the man the news of John’s return, asked him to spread it amongst the rest of the crew, and told him everyone was invited the party.

 

“What time does it start?” Mac asked.

 

Roy looked at his watch. It was now four-thirty.

 

“I’d say about six.  Jo and I’ll be leaving Rampart with John in a few minutes.  We’d better stop at a bakery and get a cake.  Chris and Jennifer are taking care of everything else for us.”

 

“All right. Six it is. I’ll tell the guys.  You know they never miss a chance to show up at someone’s place if there’s free food. Especially the single ones.”

 

Roy chuckled. “That’s for sure. See ya’ later, Mac. Oh, and your kids are welcome to come too. Tell ‘em to wear their swimming suits.  John says it’s a pool party.”

 

“They’ll love that. Thanks.”

 

The men said goodbye, then hung up.  Roy tried to call Johnny’s once more, but again, received no answer.

 

I’ll have to call him when I get home.  Chris can pick him up and bring him back to our place.

 

Roy hung up the phone, left Brackett’s office, and went to collect his wife and son.  They needed to hurry home and prepare to host a last minute party for the best reason Roy could think of.  John was home. 

 

Roy’s son was home, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

 

Chapter 60

Despite his bum leg, Farley had paced his living room floor for the past hour. He was so worried about Rudy that he hadn’t even watched any of his soap operas.  He kept glancing at the phone, expecting it to ring at any moment; Rudy on the other end saying he’d been arrested.

When he heard a vehicle pull in his driveway, Farley gimped his way to the window in an awkward run and peered out over the air conditioner. He hurried to the front door, throwing it open just as Rudy stepped on the front porch.

“Well? How’d it go?”

“Can you at least let me get inside and offer me somethin’ to drink before you start givin’ me the third degree?”

“I can, but just you wait and see if I ever spend another day worryin’ about yer cantankerous hide again, you ungrateful--”

The game ended when Rudy pushed his way past Farley and headed for the kitchen.  By the stoop to Rudy’s shoulders, Farley could see how tired his friend was.

“Got any aspirin?”

“Sure.” Farley moved to the cabinet where he kept a supply of over-the-counter medications. He shook two Bufferin into his hand, then returned the bottle to its place.

“Want some lemonade to wash these down with?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Rudy sat at the table. Farley handed him the aspirin. He grabbed a glass from a cabinet, dropped three ice cubes into it, and filled it with lemonade.  Rudy swallowed the aspirin, then chased them down with the tart liquid.  He drank the glass empty in five gulps.

“Want more?”

“No thanks.”

“So now tell me,” Farley ordered as he sat next to Rudy. “How’d it go?”

“Went fine as far as I know.”

“No trouble at all?”

“Uh huh.  A cop was on my tail for a while when I got up around San Bernardino.  Damn near gave me a heart attack, but then he went around me and I never saw him again.”

“Probably just out on patrol.”

“Must a been, ‘cause that was over two hours ago now.”

“And John?”

“What about ‘im?”

“Did he remember what he was supposed to say?”

“Seemed too. We ran through it a couple a’ times in the truck.”

“And you got into his neighborhood without anyone noticing you?”

“As far as I could tell. Like you said, it’s different from when we grew up.  Quiet. And all the houses shut up tight.  Like no one was around.”

“They probably weren’t. Like I told you, lots of women work now days.”

“Guess so.”

“But someone was home at John’s house?”

“His mom’s car was in the driveway.  And I watched in the rearview mirror until I saw him walk in the front door, so I’m guessing someone was home.”

“We’ll probably know soon enough.”

“How?”

“If he got home okay, it’ll be on the news ‘fore long.”

“I suppose.”

Farley studied his friend. “You seem kinda…sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Ya’ seem like ya’ are.  Gonna miss the little fella’, aren’t ya?”

Rudy looked down at the table and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.  A little bit, I s’pose.”

Farley stood, moving around the kitchen, getting out pots and pans.

“Whatta ya’ doin?”

“Makin’ us supper.”

“You don’t have to do that.  You can take me home.”

“I will after supper.  First we’ll eat, then we’ll watch the news, then I’ll take you home.”

“Have it your way,” Rudy said, though Farley could tell by the man’s tone of voice that he appreciated the invitation of a decent meal.  Knowing Rudy, he’d been too nervous on the ride home to even go through a McDonald’s drive-through, which meant he hadn’t eaten since sometime before he’d dropped John off – whenever they would have shared the lunch Rudy packed.

The men ate a meal of a fried pork chops, sweet corn, cucumbers, and tomatoes. When they finished eating and doing the dishes, they went into the living room. Farley turned the TV on.  They settled in chairs across from it, waiting for the six o’clock news broadcast.

They both smiled when the first thing they heard was that young John DeSoto, who’d been missing for over two weeks, had been returned home safely.  Farley smiled even broader when the anchorman said the police wanted to speak with either a Mrs. Quacker or Mrs. Quaker, who drove a big blue car and might have dropped John off in front of his house.

“Please call Detective Alberto Salazar of the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department if you have any information regarding John DeSoto’s return.  In the meantime, the boy’s family is celebrating his homecoming with family and friends this evening.  His father, Captain Roy DeSoto of the Los Angeles County Fire Department, released a statement just minutes ago thanking everyone for their efforts with regard to the extensive search for John, and thanking the family members, friends, co-workers, and neighbors, who made the past two weeks a little easier to bear.  In other news--”

Farley stood and shut off the TV.  He turned to Rudy, grinning.

“We did it!  We pulled it off!  They’re lookin’ for Mrs. Quaker.”

“Sounds that way.”

“Ya’ could be a little happier ‘bout all this, ya’ know.  If things had turned out differently, yer ass might be sittin’ in jail right now.”

“I know. And I am happy.  I appreciate all your help, Farl. I couldn’t a’ done it without you.”  Rudy stood. “Ya’ mind takin’ me home now? It’s been a long day.  I wanna go look through my mail and then hit the sack.”

“I don’t mind ‘t all. Matter a’ fact, it’s probably a good idea for you to git on home.  That way things look normal-like if any cops come snoopin’ around askin’ questions.”

“I don’t think they will. Sounds as though John remembered what we told him real well.”

“Sounds that way, but we’d better play it safe.”

“Sure. Whatever you think.”

The two men stepped from Farley’s house into the heavy heat that wouldn’t dissipate until after the sun went down.  They climbed in the Ford with Farley behind the wheel this time, and headed for Rudy’s house.

~ ~ ~

Rudy grabbed his mail from the metal box by the road. When his upper body was back in the truck, Farley pulled into the driveway. Rudy’s car was parked in the same place he’d left it early that morning, and his front door was still wide open.  Anyone passing by would have thought Rudy had been there all day long. 

Rudy said goodbye to Farley as he climbed out of the truck, agreeing to meet him for breakfast at the Nipton Café at eight the next morning.

“Now that ya’ ain’t playin’ nanny any more, maybe we can start doin’ some of the things we used to, huh?  Like meetin’ for breakfast, taking a drive to Needles for supper, and just hangin’ out chewin’ the fat.”

Rudy smiled.  “Sure.  Sure, we can start doin’ all those things again.”

Rudy told his friend “Thanks for everything,” one last time, then headed for the house.

“Rudy?”

The man turned around.

“Yeah?”

“Ya’ made the right decision – takin’ John home like ya’ did.  He’s back with his family where he belongs.”

“I know.”

Farley sat in the driveway a moment longer. He finally put the truck into reverse, called, “See ya’ tomorrow morning at eight!” and backed out onto the road.  Rudy watched until the truck was too far away to see.

Cloud Jumper slowly entered his house, trying hard not to think of how quiet and lonely it would be tonight without the presence of a lively little boy who’d showed up out of nowhere and called himself Katori.

Chapter 61

 

Chris fought the urge to speed as he headed to Johnny’s ranch.  It was five o’clock, and he figured Mom and Dad were home by now.  He’d ordered a dozen large pizzas to be delivered at six-thirty, and had then gotten the things from the grocery store his dad told him to and dropped them off at the house.  When he’d seen that his Grandma DeSoto, Aunt Eileen, and half a dozen neighbor ladies were there helping Jennifer get things ready, he told them he was going out to John Gage’s to pick up the man, and that he’d stop at McDonald’s on the way home and get the hamburgers John requested.

 

“But did you call Uncle Johnny to tell him you’re coming?” Jennifer asked.

 

“No. Dad said he’d call him from Rampart, remember?”

 

“It’s a long drive out there if he’s not home.”

 

“He’s home. Where else would he be?”

 

“But--”

 

“Don’t worry, Jen,” Chris said as he deposited a second grocery bag on the counter for her to unpack, followed by a third one. “He’ll be there.”

 

“I’m not worried. I’m just pointing out that it’ll take you an hour to get to his place and an hour to get back.  While you’re gone, I’ll be doing all the work.”

 

“You’ve got plenty of help.”

 

“But--”

 

“But what?  Don’t you want Uncle Johnny here?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Well then, someone has to go get him. He’s not allowed to drive yet.”

 

With that, Chris ran out the front door, laughing at his sister’s, “I can’t wait until I’m driving!  Then I can invent errands that’ll get me out of helping around this place!”

 

Chris wasn’t sure how many people would show up to the party, but already neighbors were stopping in as the word of John’s return spread, and Jen had said Grandma and Grandpa Stellman were on their way up from San Diego. That event normally wouldn’t make Chris’s dad very happy, but he figured this was one time when Dad wouldn’t mind the presence of his in-laws too much. Besides, Aunt Eileen said they’d be staying with her, which would make things better for everyone. Well, except for Aunt Eileen, of course, but she was pretty good at ignoring them when they got on her nerves, just like Chris was.

 

It was five thirty-six according to the DJ on the radio when Chris swung his Pinto into Johnny’s driveway.  He ran for the house, flew into the kitchen, and stopped short when he saw Johnny leaning on a crutch in front of the stove fixing supper.  He glanced at the table and saw two places were set.

 

Johnny turned as much as his body would allow him to. 

 

“Hey, Chris. Didn’t expect you home for another hour.  Supper won’t be ready for a while yet.”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Whatta ya’ mean what am I doing?  I just told you. Fixing supper.”

 

“Didn’t Dad call you?”

 

“Call me?  When?”

 

“I don’t know. Sometime within the last couple of hours.”

 

“Maybe. I’m not sure. I took a ride to the mill with Bob to get feed for the horses, and then he and I were in the barn for a while.”

 

“Oh. So you haven’t heard the news?”

 

“What news?”

 

“About John.”

 

Chris had never seen a man lose his color, but that evening he saw all color drain from John Gage’s face in seconds. The man swayed slightly, dropping his crutch.  Chris ran to his side, steadying him before he fell.

 

“Here. Let’s get you to a chair.”

 

Johnny grabbed a fistful of Chris’s shirt.  “No. No, just tell me. John.  What…what about John? He…he was found, wasn’t he?”

 

“Yeah, only it’s not like you think, Uncle Johnny.” A grin split Chris’s face.  “He’s alive.  He’s alive, and he’s fine.  He showed up at home around noon.”

 

“Wha…what?”

 

“He’s fine.  Or at least he seems to be.  Mom and Dad took him to Rampart to have Dr. Brackett check him out just to be sure, but he seems okay.  The police have already interviewed him.  He says some old lady named Mrs. Quaker brought him home.”

 

“But…but where was he?”

 

“I’m not sure.  I don’t think even John knows for sure.  He told Detective Salazar he found an empty house and was staying in it.”

 

“But--”

 

“I know, sounds pretty weird, uh? But that’s what he keeps saying, so I guess it must be true.”

 

“He’s…he’s really all right, Chris? You’re not kidding me?”

 

“I’d never kid you about something like this.  Yeah, he’s fine. Honest.  And Mom and Dad are hosting a party tonight in honor of John’s homecoming. That’s why I came out here. To get you and take you back to our place.”

 

Johnny disengaged himself from Chris’s grip.  He picked up his crutch, got himself supported again, and then surprised the young man by saying firmly, “No.  No, Chris, I’m not going.”

~ ~ ~

Johnny wouldn’t listen to Chris’s protests over his refusal to attend the party.

 

“It should be just family tonight Chris, not a party.”

 

“Well you’re family. And besides, as far as the party goes, Dad promised John we’d have one. That’s the only way he could get him to see Dr. Brackett without raising a stink.”

 

“Still, your grandparents and Eileen are there. That’s enough. Your folks don’t need--” 

 

“Uncle Johnny, lots of people will be there. Every time a neighbor drops in, Jennifer invites them to the party. And by now Dad’s probably called his crew. You know how firemen are when they get wind of free food.”

 

Johnny smiled. “Yeah, I know how they are. Still…look, I’m tired, and my arm and leg are achin’ pretty bad.”

 

“So? You can sit down at our place just as well as you can sit down here.”

 

“But I’m not gonna last long.  I’ll be ready for bed in a couple of hours.”

 

“So you’ll sleep in my room.”

 

“No. Not tonight. Not on John’s first night back at home. Your folks need time with him.  They need to spend time with just their children after everyone leaves.”

 

“Uncle Johnny…”

 

“Chris, I’ll get over to see John sometime during the next few days. Promise. For now, why don’t you pack up your things and head home.”

 

“My things?”

 

“Whatever you’ve got here.  I’m gettin’ around pretty good in the house, and Bob’s always available to help me with chores and take me where I need to go.  In another week or so, I should be able to drive again.”

 

“But--”

 

“Please, Chris. You should be home with your family at a time like this, not out here with me.”

 

Chris finally agreed to leave without Johnny that evening, but only when Johnny pointed out that the party was probably starting soon, and he should be getting back so John wasn’t wondering where he was.

 

Chris collected his things from the guestroom; then stopped in the kitchen on the way to the door. He tried to convince Johnny one last time to come with him.

 

“No, you go on now. I’ll see John when things calm down. Oh…and uh hey, tell your folks I’m real happy for them, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Chris seemed reluctant to leave, but when Johnny reminded him again that there was a five year old at home waiting for him, Chris said, “See you later.”

 

“Yeah.  See you later, Sport.”

 

Johnny watched through the window as the teenager ran to his car.  He threw his sports bag into the back seat, then slipped behind the wheel.  Seconds later, Chris was headed down the driveway, and was soon on the highway and out of Johnny’s sight.

 

Suddenly, the house felt lonely in a way Johnny had never imagined it could.  He’d never minded living by himself.  After Kim and Jessie died, he’d never considered sharing an apartment with another firefighter, like some of the young single guys did.  He’d found he liked the freedom that came with not having to compromise, or turn the TV down if someone thought it was too loud, or turn the heat up if someone was too cold, or worry that he’d wake his roommate if he didn’t come in until two in the morning.  But tonight he didn’t want to be alone, which was stupid, considering he’d just turned down the offer of attending a party. 

 

Somehow though, Johnny knew he’d done the right thing.  He wouldn’t admit it to Chris, but the thought of facing all those people made him nervous.  Even John’s return didn’t change the fact that he’d been entrusted to Johnny’s care on the day he disappeared.  For that reason, it didn’t seem right for Johnny to attend.  Like he’d told Chris, this was a night for family.  Roy shouldn’t have to worry about how Johnny was feeling physically, or the fact that he was tired, nor should the DeSotos have to open their home up to him and let him stay overnight on the first evening their son was back with them.  He’d made the correct decision by staying home.

 

As he sighed and returned to preparing his supper, Johnny just wished he wasn’t so damn lonely all of a sudden.

Chapter 62

Roy sat at the table on his deck Monday afternoon, finally enjoying some peace and quiet after the hectic weekend they’d endured. Well, peace and quiet with the exception of the two little boys laughing and splashing in the pool.  Joanne had fed John and Kyle lunch, then made them wait thirty minutes before allowing them back into the water.  Roy volunteered to supervise the boys.  Though they’d both taken swimming lessons since the age of two, Roy and Joanne weren’t foolish enough to leave children so young alone in the water without an adult or teenage sibling nearby.  Roy’s years as a paramedic had taught him how many tragic endings came from little kids swimming alone.

 

People had come and gone from the DeSoto house all weekend long. Family, friends, neighbors, fire department employees – everyone wanted to get at least a glimpse of John, and tell Roy and Joanne how happy they were for them.  Dixie kept her word to John and dropped by on Friday evening, as did Kelly Brackett and Joe Early.  Hank Stanley and his wife came for a while, and all of Roy’s crew was there at one time or another.  By the time Sunday evening arrived, Mike Stoker, Chet Kelly, and Marco Lopez had also been to the house. Much to Roy’s surprise, the chief of the department had shown up at the party too.  He stayed a few minutes talking to Roy and Hank, then took Roy aside and said, “You don’t need to report to work until next Friday, Roy.”

 

“But--”    

 

“No, no buts. I’ve fielded half a dozen phone calls from men volunteering to cover for you since word of your son’s return got out.  Take the next week off to be with your family.”