Chapter 7

 

 

     I look back on the rest of that week and can think of it only as a living, breathing nightmare.  The good thing about most nightmares, if there is a good thing about nightmares, is that you usually wake yourself up before they climax.  And for as scary as they are while you’re dreamin', in a short amount of time you forget all about them. 

 

     The bad thing about the nightmare I was experiencing, was that I couldn't get away from it.  Not only was it all I focused on when I was awake, it also plagued what little sleep I managed to catch on and off at Mom's house.

 

     By Saturday morning I had spent my third straight night combing the streets of San Diego.  Carlos's family was still at it as well, as was the police department. 

 

     It was a few minutes after ten as I sat at a stop light in heavy weekend traffic.  I rubbed a hand over my tired eyes and down the beard stubble on my cheeks.  I glanced up in the rearview mirror and caught my reflection.  My eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, my face drawn and pale.  It was no wonder that when I'd stopped at Adriano's house at seven, that Carlos and Eva had thrown me out, insisting that I go to Mom's and get some sleep.

 

     I hadn't gotten that far yet though.  I had followed up on a few weak leads that didn't prove to be anymore than that, weak.   Now I was headed to the office to pick up the mail and check the answering the machine.      

 

     I sat at that stoplight turning my head from side to side, trying to work the knots out of the tight muscles in my neck.  I could never remember being so full of despair.  Could never recall feeling so void of any other emotion except total hopelessness.  Not even when I was in 'Nam.  I had thought with so many people out looking for A.J. and Erika, and with all the publicity this case was getting in the newspapers and on TV, that someone, somewhere, would have seen something by now.  And yet, nothing.  Not one word.  Not one single indication as to where they were, or whether or not they were alive or dead.  Even if all I got back was my brother’s body, I had to know.  It was the not knowing that was doing me in, and tearing out my mother's heart piece by piece.

 

     I parked the truck in the office's small lot.  It was deserted today because of the weekend, which was fine with me.  I didn't feel like conversing with anyone.  Not even with those whose only intentions were to offer their sympathy for my situation.

 

     I unlocked the office door and bent to pick up the mail that had been shoved under it.  I quickly sorted through it, throwing the junk mail in the trash before tossing the rest of it on my desk.  The message light on the answering machine was blinking, though that didn't raise my hopes any.  I'd been collecting the messages off of it for the past two days now.  I had yet to come up with more than four potential clients inquiring about our services, a handful of salespeople, and a multitude of friends offering their thoughts and prayers.

 

     I stood leaning wearily with my knuckles on the desktop and my eyes closed, as the same type of messages played now.  Two potential clients, a sales person, and six friends.  I was surprised there was still enough tape left as the machine moved on to the last message.

 

     "Rick, it's Abby," a familiar voice rang out. 

 

     I opened my eyes and stood up straight.  I hadn't heard from, or talked to Abby, in twenty-four hours.

 

     "It's ten after nine on Saturday morning.  I'm at County General Hospital.   A.J. was brought in here about three hours ago.  Call me at the hospital when you get this message."

 

     I didn't bother to do that.  I raced out the door, slamming it behind me.  I didn't have time for the ancient elevator.  I rounded the corner to the stairwell and took the steps two at a time.  I raced for my truck, gunned the engine, and veered out into traffic amidst the blare of car horns.

 

     I think I took up two parking spots at County General.  I didn't pay any attention, just came to sudden halt at the first available space I saw.  I know I was fishtailed into the empty spot next to me.  I suppose someone cussed me out for that, much the same way I cuss out people who don't know how to properly park their vehicles.          

 

     I ran for the emergency room entrance, not even bothering to watch for traffic.

 

     At a clipped and rapid pace I made a beeline for the admitting desk. 

 

     "I'm lookin' for my brother, A.J. Simon."

 

     A clerk looked up from her computer terminal, not sparing me more than a casual glance.  "You'll have to wait your turn, sir."

 

     I looked around.  There was no one standing either ahead of or behind me, and the waiting area was occupied by only three people who seemed to be taken care of.

 

     "Lady, I'm in no mood for the bureaucracy shit today.  Now I'm lookin' for my brother. He's supposed to be in this hospital somewhere.  Andrew Jack--"

 

     Before I could create anymore of a disturbance I felt a hand on my elbow. 

 

     "Rick, come on.  Let's go over here where we can talk privately."

 

     Abby led me away from the clerk, who looked like she was very glad to see me go.

 

     "What's goin' on, Abby?  Where's A.J.?"

 

     Abby and I came to a halt at the end of the long counter.  We were well out of earshot of either the clerk. or the three people in the waiting area.  The nurses and other medical personnel that passed us were too busy to care about the topic of our conversation.

 

     "A.J.'s in with your doctor right now."

 

     "Joel?" I asked.

 

     "Dr. Lankey, yes," Abby nodded.

 

     A.J. and I had done some work several years back for the clinic where Joel has his office.  We had meshed well with the guy, who was a couple of years younger than me, and had been using him for our personal physician ever since our family doctor had retired.

 

     "How did Joel know A.J. was here?"  I inquired. 

 

     "I believe A.J. told the attending physician here in the emergency room who his regular doctor is."

 

     "Oh."   I was relieved, and I suppose rather surprised, to hear that A.J. was apparently conscious and alert.

 

     "So what's wrong with him?"  I asked.

 

     "I don't know.  I haven't been able to talk to Dr. Lankey yet, or anyone else for that matter.  I got my information from the young cop who brought A.J. in."

 

     "Cop?" 

 

     Abby nodded.  "Apparently A.J. managed to escape.  At this point I don't know enough of the details to tell you more than that.   He flagged down a passing trucker who recognized him from the news stories.  The trucker used his C.B. to get a hold of us.  A patrol car that was in the vicinity got A.J. from the trucker and brought him here."

 

     "And Erika?"  I queried hopefully.

 

     Abby didn't answer.

 

     "Abby?  What about Erika?  Isn't she here as well?"  I began grasping at straws.  Not wanting to hear what I plainly saw on Abby's face.  "I know A.J. would have never left her behind.  She must be here somewhere.  Didn't that cop tell you that he brought her here too?  Didn't he--"

 

     Abby reached out and laid a hand on my arm so that I was forced to focus on her face.    "Rick.  I'm sorry.  Erika's dead."

 

     I shook my head, whispering,   "No."

 

     "Yes, Rick.  She is. I’m sorry."

 

     I leaned down against the countertop on my elbows, letting it support the weight that was suddenly too much for my legs to bear.  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, forcing the tears to stay hidden. 

 

     "How?"  I rasped.  "Damn it, Abby, just tell me how."

 

     Abby's words came so quietly I had to strain to hear her. "She was raped."

 

     I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at her. 

 

"What?"

 

     "She was raped.  Repeatedly.  Gang raped if you will.  And sodomized with things...well with things we can only guess at at this point in time.  She bled to death from her injuries, Rick."   

 

     I dropped my head into my hands. 

 

"Oh, Lord.  Oh, God no.  Why?  Why damn it?  She was just a child.  Just a little girl."

 

     "I know it, Rick," came the voice filled with sympathy.  "I'm sorry."

 

     Another thought crossed my mind, causing me to pull myself upright.

 

     "A.J.?"

     Abby looked at me with confusion, not understanding what I was questioning.

 

     "Was A.J. - was he hurt like that?  Did those bastards--"

 

     Abby shook her head.  "No.  Not that I'm aware of.  Not that Kerwin - the officer who brought him here, mentioned.  And I'm sure he would have mentioned it had he thought it was a possibility."

 

     "Thank God," I sighed.

 

     The next question I had to ask was the hard one.  "Does Adriano and his family know what's happened?"

 

     "By now they do.  Gary Childers was going over there to give them the news about the same time I called you.  I haven't heard from him, but he planned to take them to the morgue.  Someone was going to have to identify Erika.  I told Gary to try and convince Adriano to let Carlos do it.   I heard that she...well, I don't think Adriano would want to remember Erika this way.  She was beaten pretty badly, according to the officers I talked to who were at the scene."

 

     I couldn't say anything for a few minutes.  I had to keep swallowing the lump in my throat and wiping at my eyes.  When I was finally able to speak, I didn't even recognize my own voice.  It came out in a lifeless, tear-filled croak.

 

     "Where was the scene?  Where did they have Erika and A.J.?" 

 

I had to know how close we were.  How much we had missed them by.

 

     "At Hannigan's Cannery."

 

     "Down on the wharf?  Down off of Fifth Street?"

 

     "Yes."

 

     "But there had to have been hundreds of people around there!  That's a busy place. How could they have hidden A.J. and Erika there without anyone knowin' it?"

     "Rick, the cannery shut its doors six months ago.  All the buildings down there are deserted."

 

     Right at that moment I felt like such a goddamn failure. 

 

"I didn't know," I whispered.  "I didn't know.  If only I woulda' known.  We woulda' looked there.  I woulda' known it was the perfect place to hide--"

 

     Abby gave my arm a shake.  "Rick, stop it. Stop it right now.  Don't you dare start laying a guilt trip on yourself.  You didn't know.  Let it go at that.  How do you think I feel?  I'm one of the cops on this case.  Don't you think I wish I had thought of it?  Don't you think I wish Erika was still alive, and that A.J. was spared everything he must have gone through?"

 

     "I know, Abby," I finally nodded my understanding.  "I know.  It's just that...it's just gonna take a while to come to terms with all of it."

 

     "I understand. Believe me, I understand."

 

     I straightened, when over Abby's shoulder, I saw Joel coming towards us.

 

     I met the man halfway.  "Joel, how is he?  Can I--"

 

     The doctor held up a hand to silence me.  "Rick, he's fine.  His injuries are somewhat serious, but not life threatening.  You and I will talk further in just a minute."

 

     Joel turned to Abby.  The two didn't know each other well, but had met a couple of times at the annual Christmas Eve open house we host each year at A.J.'s.

 

     "Lieutenant, I've been told you need to get a statement from A.J."

 

     Abby's gaze was an even match with our doctor's.  He was about five eight, had a stocky build, and possessed a thick head of unruly salt and pepper hair. His neatly trimmed beard and moustache were also salt and pepper, though the salt part was rapidly overtaking the pepper.  Between his build, shaggy curly hair, and easy-going nature, he had always reminded me of a friendly Sheepdog.

 

     "Yes, I need to talk to him if I may," Abby replied.

 

     "You may.  But keep it brief, please.  No more than ten minutes - fifteen tops.  He's exhausted and needs to rest.  If you don't get all the information you require during that time period, you'll have to wait and see him again tomorrow."

 

     Abby nodded.  "I understand."  

 

     Joel pointed down the hallway.  "He's in Room 104.  It's the third door on your left.  There's a nurse in there with him who's putting the finishing touches on his bandages.  You can ask her to leave if it's necessary."

 

     "Thank you."

 

     Abby walked off down the hallway.

     "And Lieutenant?"  Joel hailed on an afterthought.

 

     Abby turned.  "Yes?"

 

     "Don't pressure him.  Accept what he can tell you and leave it go at that for today.  He's not up to being pushed right now."

 

     Abby and I exchanged worried glances.  Both of us were wondering just what those words implied.

 

     "A.J.'s a friend of mine, Doctor," Abby stated.  "I'll take it easy and see how it goes.  I won't jeopardize his well being."

 

     We watched as Abby knocked on the door of Room 104, her note pad and pen already out of her purse in preparation of taking A.J.'s statement.   The nurse must have told her she could come in, because within a few seconds she pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

 

     Joel reached up and laid a hand on my back.  "Come with me, Rick.  There's an empty office down the hall we can use."

 

     Joel led me to a small office almost directly across from the examining room A.J. was in.  It was painful to be so close to my brother, and yet to be kept from him.

 

     My concern and anxiety must have clearly broadcast itself to the doctor.  He smiled.  "Don't worry, Rick.  You'll see him in a few minutes."

 

     He indicated for me to sit in a chair while, he sat on the top of the desk.  His white lab coat covered the sweatshirt and blue jeans he was wearing.  Since this was not what I normally saw him attired in during office hours, I assumed he had been home when he had gotten the call regarding A.J.

 

     "Okay, Joel.  How is he?  And give it to me straight."

 

     The doctor chuckled.  "Is there any other way to give it to Rick Simon other than straight?"

 

     "Not if you still want to have all your teeth in the morning," I said in return, and almost managed a smile along with my words.

 

     "To get right to the point, I'll give you a run down of A.J.'s injuries.  He's got seven cracked ribs.  Three on the left, and four on the right.   He's got a deep laceration on his upper right arm that needed twenty-five stitches to close.  He lost quite a bit of blood from it, which accounts for some of his exhaustion.  He's got rope burns on his wrists and ankles that are raw and painful, but nothing that required any sutures.  He's been beaten about the face.  I was concerned he might have a concussion, but the X-rays came back clear. I think because of the bruising it looks worse than it really is.  We X-rayed for internal injuries, but fortunately found none.  I imagine he's pretty bruised up on the inside as well though.  He's got several pulled muscles in his back and shoulders.  I suppose from either the way they had him bound, or the rough treatment he received, or a combination of the two.  He has shallow cuts across both of his palms," Joel crisscrossed his own palms in the shape of an X.  "An educated guess on my part says they were made by a razor blade."

 

     I nodded grimly, remembering Erika's story about Cristiano.

 

     "He's also been...beaten on the back with what looks to be a belt."

 

     I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  

 

     Joel cleared his throat and went on when he thought I was ready to handle more. 

 

"The welts on his back didn't require any more than a cleaning with warm soap and water, though I did apply a disinfectant, too, just to be on the safe side.  Other than that, he's got a lot of bruises and small cuts on his face and torso.  I gave him a tetanus shot and will be starting him on antibiotics today."

 

     I prayed that was the end.  "That's all of it?"

 

     Joel shook his head. 

 

"You heard me tell Lieutenant Marsh A.J.'s exhausted.  That wasn't an exaggeration.  He's about ready to drop.  As I told her, he's had about all he can take for one day.  He hasn't had any food since noon on Wednesday, though when I asked him if they’d given him any water, he said yes . He doesn't appear to be dehydrated, or at least not seriously so.  Nonetheless, I want him to drink plenty of liquids over the next few days."

 

     "How long are you gonna keep him here?"

 

     "I'm not."

 

     "Pardon me?"   I was certain I hadn't heard him correctly.

 

     "He's refusing to let me admit him.  He keeps saying he's going home."

 

     "What's your opinion on that matter?"

 

     Joel shrugged his shoulders in defeat.  "I don't think it's wise. I'd like to keep him here a couple of days.  Or at least overnight for observation.   But he won't have any part of it."

 

     "So what do we do?"

 

     "Let him go home."

 

     "But you just said that wasn't wise," I pointed out.  "You said he should stay here overnight at least."

 

     "Rick, I can't force A.J. to stay here if he doesn't want to.  And short of having him declared mentally incompetent and getting a court order that grants you as his medical guardian, you can't force him to stay here either."

 

     More in jest than anything else I said, "I think that's a bit drastic, don't you?" 

 

     "Yes, I do.  First of all, both you and I know your brother's not mentally incompetent, just stubborn.  And secondly, by the time a judge could hear that proposal, A.J. would be well on the road to recovery.  So therefore, yes, I'd rather see him stay here at least until tomorrow.  But no, I don't think it will cause him any great harm to go home with you this morning as long as it's with the understanding that he's to have complete and total bed rest for the next forty-eight hours, and not to move farther than the couch after that.  I told him that he's to eat three nutritious meals a day, drink plenty of liquids, and take the medication on a regular schedule that I'm going to send home with you.  And finally, that he's not to even think of going back to work until after I see him in my office a week from Monday." 

 

     "Don't worry," I assured. "Those rules will be followed to the letter." 

 

     "I'll stop by the house some time tomorrow afternoon to have a look at him," Joel promised.

 

     I smiled my thanks.    "I didn't think there were any doctors left who still made house calls."

 

     "To tell you the truth, this will be a first for me," Joel acknowledged.  "It'll give me something to brag about in the nurses' lounge."

 

       Joel reached a hand into the pocket of his lab coat.  "I had one of the clerks from the pharmacy run these prescriptions up to me."

 

     He handed me the medication one by one.  "This one's an antibiotic I want him on until they're all gone.  He should take two a day.  One with his breakfast, and one with his supper.  This one's a painkiller.  He can take one every six hours as long as it's necessary.  You can give him one as soon as you get him home and settled into bed.   There's enough in here to last him until I see him next Monday.  He may need to supplement that the first few days.  The effectiveness may start to wear thin before he's allowed to take another one.  At those times he can take whatever over-the-counter pain reliever he keeps at the house."

 

     I nodded my understanding and pocketed the two bottles. 

 

     "And here's a tube of the same antibiotic salve I used on his palms, wrists and ankles.  Put this on for him every morning after he's showered, then rebandage the wounds with gauze.  Again, I want that done until I see him in my office next week.  The cuts on his palms are thin, like a paper cut.  They'll probably split open quite easily and cause him a helluva lot of discomfort until the skin finally grows back together.  The good news is, that should happen fairly quickly.  Within just a few days.  I assume you'll be staying with him at his house?"

 

     "Yes."

 

     "Good.  I'll have my receptionist call you early in the week to let you know what time I can work A.J. in next Monday."

 

     "That'll be fine," I agreed. 

 

     "That about covers it," Joel said.  "Just watch him carefully for the next few days.  If you have any concerns at all regarding his health, you call me no matter what time of the day or night it is.  If you can't reach me, bring him here."

 

     "I will,” I nodded firmly.  I rose, assuming we were finished.

 

     "Uh...Rick.  Hold up a sec.  There's one more thing I'd like to discuss."

 

     I sank back into my chair.  "Yeah?" 

 

     "I knew, of course, based on the reports I'd seen on TV and read in the paper, that A.J. was missing."

 

     "I know you did," I responded.  Joel was one of the many friends who had left a message on the office answering machine.

 

     "And the young cop who brought him in here gave the physician on duty a few details.  That doctor, in turn, passed those details on to me."

 

     "So what are you gettin' at here?"

 

     "What I'm trying to say, is that there's a strong possibility A.J. will need a lot of help to get through all this."

 

     "I know that," I stated almost indignantly. "I'll give him whatever help he needs, just like I always--"

 

     "No, Rick," Joel shook his shaggy head.  "I mean even more help than you can give him.   I mean professional help."

 

     I studied the man for a long moment.  Finally I gave a slow nod of my head.  "Yeah, I suppose you could be right.  I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

 

     "We can discuss it more at length in a week or two," Joel agreed.   "Let's give his body a chance to mend, then see where things stand."

 

     Joel stood up from the desk.  I took this as an indication that our conversation had come to its conclusion. 

 

     "Do you mind if I use the phone?"  I asked.  "I should call our mother.  I don't want her to hear about A.J. on the TV or radio news."

 

         Joel turned the phone around that was sitting on the desk so I could easily dial Mom's number 

 

"Go right ahead."

 

     Of course, when I first told Mom A.J. had been found and wasn't seriously hurt, she started crying.  When she was able to get a handle on her emotions I briefly explained his injuries, and was even more brief about the circumstances that had brought him to the hospital.  I simply told her I'd fill her in later.  I was hoping she wouldn't ask about Erika over the phone, but it came as no surprise when she did.  Again, I didn't go into any great detail, just told her Erika hadn't made it out alive. 

 

     I could tell Mom was choking on her tears over the loss of the young girl.  She ended the conversation by saying she and Rex would be waiting for A.J. and me at A.J.'s house.

 

     Joel and I exited the office at the same time Abby exited the examination room A.J. was in. 

 

     The woman walked over to us, stopping in front of me.  Her voice took on an uncharacteristic softness.  

 

"I shouldn't have to bother A.J. tomorrow.  He gave me a complete statement.  However, I imagine Gary will want to come by with some mug shots to see if A.J. can identify any of the kids who held him and Erika.  I'll probably come with him.  We'll call first to make sure A.J.'s awake and up to it."

 

     I wasn't used to Abby being so empathetic, especially when it came to police business as serious as this.  For some reason that scared me. 

     "Abby...what happened?"  I had to know.  "What'd A.J. tell you?"   

     "He wants to tell you himself, Rick," was all she would say.

 

     "Abby, come on.  I just want to know--"

 

     Abby stood her ground.  "A.J. specifically requested that I not tell you anything.   I promised him I wouldn't.  He'll tell you when he's ready, Rick."

 

     I couldn't let it go at that.  My concern for my brother was too great.  "But--"

 

     Joel intervened for the first time since Abby and I had started our discussion. 

 

"Just be patient, Rick.  Take it as a good sign that A.J. wants to talk to you about all of this.  It might be the first step he needs towards healing the emotional scars he's bound to have suffered."  

 

     I looked at both of them a moment, before finally agreeing.  "Okay.  But after he talks to me, Abby, I want to read the police report.  If he leaves anything out, I wanna know about it now.  I'm not going to be able to help him unless I do."

 

     Abby nodded.  "Fair enough.  You let me know after he's talked to you."

 

     Abby reached out and shook Joel's hand.   "Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Lankey."

 

     "Joel," the doctor corrected.

 

     "Joel," Abby smiled.  "But only if you stop referring to me as Lieutenant Marsh.  It's Abby.  And I hope that the next time we see one another it will be under happier circumstances."

 

     I had no doubt our recently divorced doctor was seriously considering asking Abby out at some time in the future.  His eyes twinkled as he agreed,  "I hope the circumstances are happier ones as well...Abby."

 

     Abby turned to me.  "I need to get going.  A.J. told me he's not staying here?"

 

     “No,” I shook my head. "According to Joel he's insisting he's going home."

 

     "That's the impression I got, too,"  Abby said.  "Make sure he takes care of himself.  I'm sure I'll see him again over the next few days.  Tell Cecilia I'll give her a call."

 

     "I will.  Thanks, Abby.  And, Abby?"

 

     "Yes?"

 

     "Find the bastards that did this to my brother and Erika.  Find them, or I will."

 

     "We'll find them, Rick," Abby promised.  "Believe me, I want them as much as you do."

 

     Abby walked away from us.  It wasn't lost on me that Joel didn't take his eyes off of her until she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

 

     "Nice lady."

 

     I hid my smile.  True, Abby was a nice lady.  But she had a number of other personality traits I would prefer to avoid.  I didn't share those with the doctor, however.  I figured, what the heck, let him find out for himself.

 

     "Yeah, she's nice," I agreed. "A good friend.  And good at what she does.  In all my years as a P.I., she's one of the best cops I've ever run across."

 

     Joel shifted the subject from Abby to A.J.  "I'll go check and make sure the nurse is done with A.J. and he's ready to leave.  You wait out here.  I'll be right back."

 

     Joel entered the examination room, and in a less than a minute returned to my side.  A woman walked out with him and headed for the nurses' station.

 

     "You can go in, Rick.  For my own peace of mind I had to give one last ditch effort at convincing your brother he should stay here until tomorrow morning."

 

     "I doubt I have to ask you what his answer was."

 

     "I doubt you do either.  He said no.  He said he'd take a bus home if he had to.   I told him that wouldn't be necessary – that you'd be right in.  Like I said earlier, if you have any concerns once you get him home, call me.  Otherwise, I'll see both of you some time tomorrow afternoon."

 

     I stuck my hand out.  "Thanks, Joel.  For everything."

 

     He smiled as he shook my hand.  "You're welcome.  I'm just glad A.J.'s all right.  I'll wait out here in case you need my help getting him to your truck."

 

     I nodded my agreement and promised, "We won't be long."

 

     I hesitated a moment before pushing open the door to Room 104.  Even though I had just confidently indicated otherwise to both Joel and Abby, for the first time in my life I wasn't sure if I was capable of offering my brother the help he was bound to need.  Although I had yet to take much time to admit it to myself, I was consumed with guilt.  Guilt over what had happened to Erika.  Guilt over what had happened to A.J.  And guilt over the fact that we had taken this case in the first place.  A.J.'s words from nearly two weeks earlier kept bouncing back and forth like a pinball inside my skull.

 

     Rick, I've already told you twice how I feel.  I'm concerned that we may get in over our heads on this one.  The last thing I want is for that little girl in our office to get hurt because of one of us.

 

     That's the last thing I wanted, too, A.J., I thought as I pushed open the swinging door. Forgive me, little brother.     

 

 

     A.J. was sitting on an examination table with his back to me when I entered the room.  He didn't even turn around to see who had come in, though I assumed he knew it was me.  I paused a moment in the act of approaching him.  Where his bare back wasn't covered with the tape that encircled his ribs, it was covered with angry red welts and a collection of bruises that looked like they had been made by a metal belt buckle.  I closed my eyes for just a second and offered up a prayer of help for both of us.  I had a feelin' the Simon brothers were gonna need all the assistance they could get in order to make it through this one.

 

     I quietly said his name as I approached. 

 

"A.J.?"

 

     He didn't turn around, or acknowledge me in any way.  I carefully laid a hand on his back, on one of the few spots that was unmarred.  His skin was cold to my touch, which surprised me.  The room was uncomfortably warm, like most hospital rooms usually are.

 

     "A.J?"  I said again.  I left my hand on his back as I slowly rounded the table until I came face to face with him.

 

     He looked up at me briefly, then looked away.  Like Joel had stated, he was spent.  The exhaustion was not only evident in his eyes, but also in the slackness of his normally expressive features, and in the way his shoulders slumped forward. 

 

     His left eye was black and blue, and his lip was split.  His right cheek, though not swollen, was red.  I could clearly discern a handprint in the design of the marking, as if someone had repeatedly slapped him.   There was a large white bandage covering the stitches on his right biceps.  His wrists were wrapped with gauze as Joel had said they would be.  I assumed his ankles were, too, though I couldn't see them as someone had put his socks back on him.  Each of his palms held two crisscrossing strips of gauze secured at the ends by medical tape.  And like Joel had promised, the rest of his face and torso was covered with an array of bruises and cuts.

 

     I didn't know what to say to him.  I'm sorry, was the only thing that came to mind, but for some reason I knew it wasn't the time for my self-incriminations.

 

     I studied him a moment, before reaching out and gently pulling him to me.  He didn't resist at all.  Just allowed me to bring him forward until his head rested sideways against my chest.  I carefully wrapped my arms around his back and laid my head lightly on top of his. 

 

     We stayed that way a long time, meither of us saying anything.  It was me who finally broke the silence. 

 

     Quietly I asked, "Are you ready to go home?" 

 

     "Yes."  I heard from the vicinity of my chest.

 

     I raised my head and looked down at him.  "Can I try to talk you into stayin' here overnight?  I'd feel better about all this if you would."

 

     "No.  I'm not staying," came the firm declaration from my chest.  "If you don't take me home I'll walk."

 

     I couldn't help but smile at that.  I hated to break the news to him, but in his condition he wasn't gonna be walkin' too far.  Certainly not the ten miles it would take him to get home.

 

     Under normal circumstances his foolish stubbornness would have caused an argument to break out between us.  An argument I woulda' ultimately won, because in the condition he was in, he would have found his sorry little butt in a hospital bed if I had to carry him there myself and sit on him the whole night to make him stay.

 

     But these weren't normal circumstances.  He'd been through hell.  And A.J.'s home has always been his haven.  As has his family.  I knew he was looking to find the solace he so desperately needed in that comfortable home on the Grand Canal with Mom and me.  After all he'd been through, I couldn't deny him the one thing I could easily provide.

 

     I gave into his wishes.  "Let's get you ready to go then."

 

     I glanced around the room, but didn't see the white dress shirt or slate blue double-breasted suit coat he'd had on three days prior. He was still wearin' the trousers that completed the outfit, though they were torn at both knees and stained with dirt and blood.  I figured the coat and shirt were either bloodied and torn as well, therefore an orderly had done away with them, or that some punk was struttin' around in them while wearin’ the tie our mother had given him for Christmas just one month earlier. 

 

     I didn't ask A.J. where any of his stuff was.  I gently pulled him away from my chest and kept one supportive hand on his uninjured arm as I wormed my way out of my field jacket.  Because of the stitches in his arm and the tape around his ribs, I didn't attempt to put the jacket on him.  I simply laid it over his shoulders and brought it around to cover his chest as best I could.

 

     I looked around for his shoes.  For just a second I wondered if I was gonna have to give up my boots as well, before spotting his shoes in a far corner.  I went and retrieved them.  I carefully slipped them on his feet in deference of the bandages I could feel around his ankles through his socks.

 

     I rose from my task and threw him a smile.   "Ready?" 

 

     "Yeah," he nodded, his eyes half closed.

 

     I put a hand under both his arms and helped A.J. ease himself off the high table.  His knees buckled as soon as his feet hit the floor.  I tightened my grip and adjusted my body so I could better support his weight.  I had to bite my tongue to keep from tellin' him he wasn't going anywhere expect up to a fourth floor hospital room. 

 

     We stood like that a second or two until A.J. managed to pull himself upright with what little strength he had left.  I maintained my strong grip on him as we slowly exited the room.  Joel offered to get a wheelchair, which naturally, my brother refused.    

 

     Between Joel and I we were able to get A.J. to the emergency room exit.  Joel had him sit in a chair while I ran out and got the truck.  I pulled it up to the door, where the doctor and I somehow managed to get A.J. in the cab without causing him further injury.

 

     "Think you'll be able to get him out of there by yourself once you get him home?"  Joel asked me after I had shut the passenger side door.

 

     "I think so.  The step down should be a lot easier for him than the step up was.  Otherwise he's got a pretty good neighbor who I know will help me.  Mr. Gorman's come to like A.J. a lot better ever since I sold The Hole In The Water and got my own place."

 

     "Okay," Joel agreed.  "Otherwise, I can follow and give you a hand."

 

     "No.  You've done enough already.  We'll manage."

 

     Joel told me one last time he'd see us tomorrow, then went back in the hospital.  I walked around to the driver's side of the truck and climbed in.  A.J. was leaning back against the seat with his eyes closed, and remained that way until we pulled in his driveway twenty minutes later.  He hadn't said a word to me the entire trip, and not knowin' whether he had fallen asleep or not, I didn't say anything to him.  His eyes snapped open the minute the truck came to a halt, which led me to believe he'd been awake the whole time.

 

     "Wait right there," I ordered my brother before he could take a notion to climb out of the cab by himself.

 

     I hopped out and ran around to the passenger side.  I opened the door and reached inside, helping him turn his body so he could make the big step down.  I was wrong when I had told Joel the step down would be easier.  It wasn't.  In fact, I think it was even more painful for A.J. because of the jarring effect it had on his injuries.  I cushioned that as best I could, holding onto his left arm and easing him down to the ground as gently as possible.

 

     Mom had parked her car in the far spot in front of A.J.'s garage so I could get as close to the kitchen door as possible.  Carlos and I had brought the Camaro home on Thursday.  It was parked in its usual place in the garage.

 

     I supported the bulk of A.J.'s weight the entire trip to the kitchen.  I could tell his exhaustion and injuries were about to do him in.  Earlier, at the