Date: Sun, 21 Dec 2008 11:32:36 -0500
From: ronyx <ronyx@woh.rr.com>
Subject: A Bridge to Yesterday   Chapter 8

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely
coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain
profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and
find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights to
the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write Ron at
ronyx@woh.rr.com with your comments. Ronxy is a prolific Nifty writer



A Bridge to Yesterday        Chapter 8



I'm numb. I don't know what else to say. I've been sitting here in the
surgery waiting room of the hospital for hours. I haven't been able to stop
crying since I arrived. I look down at the special edition of the local
newspaper and read the front page article for about the thirtieth time.

PRINCIPAL OF SOUTHWESTERN HOSPITAL SHOT


Dr. Joseph Carpenter, principal of Southwestern High School, was shot by
popular football coach, Darren Arnold. He remains in critical condition at
Lee General Hospital. Senior class president, Douglas Campbell, was also
shot. He is in stable condition with a gunshot wound to the shoulder.


Details are sketchy, but according to a reliable source, Coach Arnold
entered Carpenter's office where he was meeting with a group of students.
Arnold pulled a handgun and shot Campbell point blank. When he aimed the
gun at another unnamed student, Carpenter attempted to wrestle the gun from
Arnold's hand and he was shot in the chest.

It has been reported that Coach Arnold was relieved of his coaching and
teaching positions earlier in the week, and he was placed on paid leave of
absence pending the results of a criminal investigation at the school. The
investigation centers around a charge of conspiracy to commit bodily harm
to two students in Coach Arnold's gym class. Attempts to reach School
Superintendent Dr. Garvin's office have gone unanswered.

After the shooting the school was placed in lock down for the remainder of
the day. Frantic parents began showing up within minutes after the
shooting. Police were able to restore order, and students were dismissed
later without any major incidences. Homicide detectives plan to return to
the school later today to interview students and staff.

***************

Homicide detectives? Those are the words that make the tears flow. It
implies that Joey may not make it. It means his gunshot wound could be
fatal, and I don't think I can live if he dies.

The waiting room is crowded with people. It is packed with friends, staff
and students. Everyone is wiping tears from their eyes. It's been hours
since the doctor last came out and talked to us. At that time they were
rushing him into surgery. That was five hours ago. Something must be wrong
or they would have come back in and given us some more information.

I place my head in my hands, and again the tears flow. "Are you alright?" I
recognize my mother's voice, but I don't respond. She pulls my hand away
from my face and squeezes it.

"He's going to be alright, Gene," she says reassuringly.

I lift my tear-stained face and reply, "Is he mother?" I can see the pain
in her face. We had just buried my father, and now we were faced with
losing Joey. Overcome with grief, my head falls into her lap and I sob
uncontrollably. She soothingly rubs my head.

"Joey's a survivor," she says softly. "He's overcome a lot of things in his
life, and he's going to survive this too." She continues to rub my head. I
can hear people crying all around me.

I look up when I hear Nicky screaming on the other side of the room. "Dad!"
He shouts. Star, Ticker and several other people hold him, trying to keep
him calm. I want to run across the room and take him in my arms. I
understand the pain he's going through, because we both share a love for
Joey.

"I can't stand this, Mother." I cry once again. "I don't know what I'll do
if he dies."

I look up and see a mother's understanding behind her teary eyes. "How long
have you known?"

"About as long as you have," she answers softly. "I've seen the way you've
looked at him since you were in high school."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"It was something you had to work out on your own," she replied. "If I had
said anything, you would have just denied it. I hoped when you got
counseling that you would face the truth, but you've continued to hide it
all these years."

"Was I that obvious?" I tried to force a smile.

"Not really," she said. "But I am your mother. Mothers sense these things."

"I think I love him," I finally said the words out loud. I could feel years
of torment lift from my shoulders. "I think I always have."

She took my hand and gently patted it. "I know."

Suddenly, tears began to flow once again. "And he may die before I get a
chance to tell him." She pulled me into her and I rested my head on her
shoulder and cried.

"Shhh," she said comfortingly. "He'll pull through this." I felt someone
sit down next to me and take my hand. It was Star.

"Are you alright, Gene?" I nodded my head, but couldn't look at her. I had
just confessed my love for Joey to my mother, and I wasn't prepared yet to
tell Star.

"Come with me," she said as she reached out and took my hand. She stood and
pulled me to my feet. "I need some fresh air." She led me from the crowded
room and to the elevators at the end of the corridor. When we reached the
first floor, we walked to an open area called the Meditation Garden. It
contained benches surrounded by a variety of plants and flowers. We sat on
a bench for several minutes without saying anything.

Suddenly, Star's shoulders began to tremble and she let out a loud wail. I
grabbed her and pulled her into me.

"I'm trying to stay strong," she sobbed, "Nicky needs me to be strong. But
I don't think I can be." She continued to cry. "I don't think I can make it
through this. Especially.." She stopped and clutched me tightly. I found
myself overcome with grief. We cried and cradled each other.

Before I realized what I was saying, I cried, "I love him, Star. It will
kill me if he dies and I didn't tell him."

I felt her body tense and she pulled away from me. She sat back and looked
at me. "What did you say, Gene?"

I took a deep breath. "I said I love him. I always have."

"You've lived all these years knowing that?"

I sat back and laughed nervously. "I've lived all these years denying
that."

"Mrs. Wendelmeirer!" Star rose when she heard someone call her name.

"I'm over here.." A young girl, probably a student, ran up to her.

"Hurry back inside," she said excitedly. "The doctor wants to see you."

Star grabbed my hand and we rushed back upstairs. We found Ticker standing
nervously beside a door.

"Where have you been?" He asked worriedly. "The surgeon came out about five
minutes ago to see you." I later learned that Joey had signed legal
documents naming Star as his next of kin in case of an emergency. She would
also gain custody of Nicky in the event of his death.

"Where is he?" She asked

"He told me that you were to go back to the post-op area and ask for
him. His name is Dr. Emil."

Star started to go through the door, but then turned and grabbed my
hand. "You're his brother in case anyone asks." We walked down a corridor
until we came to the nurses' station. When Star asked for Dr. Emil, we were
told to have a seat and wait until he arrived.

We waited nervously for about ten minutes. We kept a watchful eye on the
nurses' station, hoping for some information about Joey. My heart sped up
each time we heard a monitor go off and a nurse would quickly walk down the
hall and disappear into a room.

Soon we saw a small, dark man in a white hospital coat approach us. He
appeared to be of Indian descent. He smiled as we stood and he shook our
hands.

"Are you Star Wendelmeirer?" He asked in a very heavy accent. She nodded
and he turned to me. "And you are?"

"He's Joey's brother," Star said quickly. He eyed me carefully before
turning back to Star. I held my breath waiting for him to tell us of Joey's
condition.

"He's alive," he stated flatly. I felt weak and I became afraid I was on
the verge of passing out. "But he remains in critical condition."

"Will he live?" Star's voice shook with emotion. I reached down and took
her hand and squeezed it.

"The bullet did a lot of trauma to some internal organs." He spoke as if he
was discussing an incoming storm. His words were cold and heartless. I
guess as a surgeon, he has to remain aloof and undetached. "The bullet
entered his right chest, penetrating his right lung and diaphragm. It
ripped through the right lobe of his liver, and it took out a portion of
his gall bladder. There was also some damage to the small bowl of his
stomach and right colon. It took us over three hours to repair the
damage. There was a tremendous amount of internal bleeding. The next twenty
four hours will be very critical. If he survives them, then he should have
a good chance for recovery."

Star's knees went weak, and I grabbed her to prevent her from falling to
the floor. Dr. Emil and I walked her over to a chair and had her sit. She
looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"You mean he could die?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," he replied. "Right now, I'd say his chances
are about 50/50. We'll know more in the morning." I turned and placed my
arms on the wall and started to cry. The thought that Joey might die was
overwhelming. Star stood and held me tightly. She stood on her tiptoes and
whispered in my ear, "We have to be strong, Gene. Joey needs us right
now. We won't be any good like this." I stopped crying and attempted to
pull myself together. Star was right. There was a room full of people who
needed us right now. In addition, Joey needed us.

"Can we see him?" My voice shook with emotion. The doctor looked at us
sympathetically, and then smiled gently.

"I think we can arrange that," he said, "but only for a few minutes. He's
still sedated and he needs his rest." He walked over to the nurses' station
and talked to one of the attendants. She approached us as the doctor
disappeared into another room.

"Follow me." We followed her to a large room filled with curtained
cubicles. The sign on the door read: Intensive Care.

Before opening the door, she stopped and turned to us. "I think Dr. Emil
told you that Dr. Carpenter is still heavily sedated. He won't know you are
in the room. There are a lot of tubes running into his body, and you will
see several monitors. I want to warn you that seeing him might be very
traumatic. Are you prepared for this?"

I looked at Star and she nodded. She reached for my hand and squeezed it
tightly as we followed the nurse to one of the cubicles. She slowly pulled
back the green curtain. Star gasped when she saw Joey lying on the bed.

It was hard to even recognize it was him. He looked so small and frail. His
skin was colorless and pasty looking. He had tubes running into his nose,
mouth and arms. There were a series of beeping noises emanating from the
monitoring devices around him.

"I'll leave you alone for a couple of minutes," the nurse stated. "I'll be
back shortly." She walked away, pulling the green curtain closed behind
her.

Star squeezed my hand and inched closer to the bed. I followed and stood
before Joey. I watched as his chest slowly rose and fell with the aid of
the respirator. I looked over at Star and she had her eyes closed, silently
praying.

Joey's hand was outside the sheet with several tubes entering his
skin. Carefully, I reached down and took his hand and held it. I squeezed
it gently, and I was surprised when he weakly squeezed my hand.

I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "We're here with you,
Joey. You're going to pull through this." Tears welled up in my eyes when
he squeezed my hand again. I felt that he had heard me.

The nurse reappeared and told us we had to let Joey rest. I leaned in and
kissed his forehead and whispered, "I love you, Joey." Again, he squeezed
my hand. Star then leaned in and kissed him, telling him she loved him. We
left the room and held each other tightly as we returned back to the
waiting room to tell the others of Joey's condition.

Nicky was the first to see us when we emerged through the door. Ticker had
his arms around him, but he broke free and ran over to Star.

"How's Dad?" He cried. Star placed her arms around him and held him
tightly. I walked over and placed my hand on his shoulder. He flinched at
first, but then accepted my touch.

"Your Dad has some serious injuries," Star said. Ticker walked up and stood
beside her. There was a hush throughout the waiting room as she told Nicky
the sad news concerning his father.

He looked up pleadingly at Star. "Will he live Aunt Star?" I squeezed his
shoulder tighter.

Star knelt down and looked Nicky in the eyes. "We'll pray that he
does. Right now the doctor isn't sure, Nicky." Nicky collapsed and fell
into Star's arms. There was muted crying throughout the waiting room.

I leaned down and whispered in Star's ear. "Why don't you and Ticker take
Nicky out to the garden and talk to him there. It will be more
private. I'll stay here and inform the others of Joey's condition."

She stood up and nodded. She put her arm protectively around Nicky's waist
and led him from the room. Several people gave him words of encouragement
as they left.

As soon as they departed, everyone crowded around me. My mother stepped up
beside me and held my arm.

I looked around at all the tear-stained faces before me. It was a testament
to Joey's goodness that so many people had come to the hospital to grieve
together. They were young and old, male and female, black and white, and
gay and straight. In some way, he had touched the lives of everyone in the
room. I know that he had certainly touched mine.

"I wish I could say he was going to be alright, but I can't." There was a
collective gasp, and several people broke out into tears. "He is still in
critical condition. The doctor said the bullet did a lot of damage to his
liver, kidney, bladder and colon." I waited a minute for the information to
sink in before I continued.

"Dr. Emil says the next twenty-four hours are critical." I explained. "His
chances of survival are fifty-fifty." Several people in the room started
crying loudly. One young girl who appeared to be a student at his school
was led from the room screaming.

To my left a man walked up with a camera and snapped a picture of
me. Within seconds a uniformed police officer grabbed his arm and escorted
him from the room.

"That's all the information I have," I said tearfully. "Joey really needs
your thoughts and prayers right now." My mother led me to a chair and I sat
and wept.

After several minutes I stopped crying and looked around the room. Several
groups had formed around the waiting room and they were deep in prayer. The
hospital chaplain and several men who appeared to be ministers were walking
around the room offering comfort to those overcome with grief.

I turned and asked my mother, "Have you been able to reach Tina yet?"

Tina had left the previous day, just hours before the shooting. She had a
four hour lay over in Phoenix and wouldn't be arriving home until late in
the morning. I had tried to call her a couple of times, but she didn't
answer her phone.

"I talked to her while you were with Joey," she informed me. "She's booking
a flight back here, and she'll call you later with details."

"Thank you, Mother," I said. She reached down and grabbed my hand.

"Let's take a walk." She said. She led me out the waiting room and to the
elevator. We found our way to the hospital cafeteria. She walked over and
sat at a table in a far corner while I went and got us each a cup of
coffee.

We sat silently at the table sipping coffee. Finally, she looked at me and
spoke. "What are you going to do, Gene?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to have to talk to Tina when she gets here."

"I can't," I said. She reached over and rubbed my hand.

"She's going to know, Gene." She looked sympathetically into my
eyes. "She's going to take one look at you and see that your heart is
breaking right now. It's only going to take a short time for her to figure
it out."

"Is it that obvious?"

"I'm afraid it is, Dear," she replied.

"Oh, God." I cried, as I placed my head in my hands. She gently rubbed my
hand.

"You have to face the truth, Gene," she said soothingly. "You've hidden
behind a lie your entire life."

Tears poured down my face. "What if he dies?" The words choked me. "What
then?"

"He won't," she assured me. "He's strong. He'll survive."

I looked up and saw Star, Ticker and Nicky walking towards us. Nicky's eyes
were red and puffy, but he seemed to have calmed down considerably. They
walked over, and he took a seat between me and my mother. My mother reached
out and combed his hair back with her hand, and then pulled him into
her. She cradled him while he began to cry again.

Star and Ticker sat down. "Did you tell him?" I asked. Star's eyes welled
up with tears as she nodded her head. Ticker put his arm around her and
squeezed her shoulder gently.

Nicky sat up and looked around the room. "I have to go to the bathroom," he
announced. "Does anyone know where it is?" I looked out into the hall and
saw a sign pointing to the left.

"I have to go also," I said. "Come on." I reached out and took his hand,
pulling him up. "I'll go with you." He hesitated at first, but then he
began to follow me. I stopped briefly, and then I put my arm around
him. Again, as in the waiting room, he tensed up; but then he relaxed and I
could feel his weight lean against me for support.

I felt such sorrow for him. The grief he was feeling had to have been
tremendous. I didn't know a lot about his life, but I had heard that his
mother died of a drug overdose on the streets. Now he was afraid that the
man who had taken him in and provided him a loving home might die.

When we reached the bathroom, he disappeared into the stall while I used
the urinal. As I was washing my hands, I heard a low moan which turned into
an animal's howl. From underneath the stall, I could see him sink down and
sit on the floor.

I pushed open the stall door and whisked him up into my arms. He started
violently pounding on my chest.

"Why!" He screamed as he hit me harder. "Why Dad?" He let out a shrieking
shout, and we both fell to the ground. I wrapped him in my arms, and we
both cried uncontrollably on the cold, stone floor.

"He's going to be alright," I cried. "He's going to be alright." I rocked
him in my arms. Ticker and Star opened the door, but I waved them away. I
felt a need to share my grief alone with Nicky. We both loved the same man,
each in our own way.

"I don't want him to die," he wailed loudly.

"He won't," I assured him. I then remembered what my mother said. "He's
strong, Nicky. He's been through so much in his life and he got through
that. He'll get through this too."

He looked up at me hopefully. "Promise?"

I wrapped him again in my arms. "I promise," I whispered in his ear.

We returned to the waiting room and sat around for about an hour before
Dr. Emil came in and gave us an update. He said that Joey's vitals were
still stable and that he was resting comfortably. Star asked if we could go
back and see him, but he doctor said that he should probably not be
disturbed. He told us to go home and get some rest.

It was decided that it would be best if Nicky stayed at Star and Ticker's
house for the time being; but first they'd have to go by his home and pick
up a few things.

I was about to leave with my mother when Star came up and took my
hand. "Why don't you come home with us? There's plenty of room."

"I don't know," I replied. "I really should go back and be with my mother."
Star seemed disappointed by my refusal.

"I'm really worried about what could happen." Tears welled up in her
eyes. "I'd feel better knowing you were there, just in case Dr. Emil calls
and wants me, us, to return to the hospital immediately." Her shoulders
drooped in utter despair. It was obvious that she was hanging on by a mere
thread.

"Alright," I said. She smiled slightly and took my hand.

"Thanks."

As we arrived to the ground floor of the hospital, we were surprised to be
greeted by a group of uniformed police officers. One stepped in front of us
and said politely, "Please follow me."

He led us away from the front door and down a hallway until we came to a
door that was marked, Laundry Room. We followed him until we came to a
locked door. He knocked on it twice and the door opened. There were two
unmarked police cars waiting outside.

"What's this all about?" Ticker asked. The officer pulled Star and me
aside.

"We've been trying to protect your privacy all day," he said, "but since
you're leaving the hospital, we think you should be aware that the national
news media has picked up this story. It has been on cable news all
day. It's not every day a coach enters a principal's office and opens
fire. It's also an election year and gun control is a popular topic."

He waited a second to see if we had any reaction before continuing. "What
I'm trying to say, is out front of the hospital is a throng of reporters
and news trucks from all over the country. They've been trying to get
people's reactions as they leave the hospital. We're trying to protect you
from that." He looked over at Nicky. "Especially the boy." Ticker had his
arm around him and he was talking quietly to him.

"So we're going to sneak you out the back way and take you to a hotel
downtown."

"We can't go home?" Star asked excitedly. "I wanted to go home and get into
my own bed."

He shook his head. "Somehow the media has found out Dr. Carpenter's
address, and also yours. Reporters are camped outside your homes."

"Damn," Star hissed angrily. The officer took her arm and pulled her
towards the door.

"So if you'll come with me," he insisted, "We'll take you to a hotel for
the evening."

I walked over and put my arm around Nicky and led him outside into the
awaiting patrol car while Star informed Ticker of what was happening. A
minute later, they got into the car and we were whisked away down an alley
in back of the hospital. When we emerged onto the street, we immediately
saw that the street was lined with news satellite trucks and vans. An area
was roped off and it appeared that over a hundred people were standing
behind the barrier.

Instinctively, I put my arm around Nicky and pulled his head into my chest.

"What's going on?" He asked. I looked at Star and she nodded. I then
explained how Joey's shooting was a big story and that a lot of people
wanted to know what was happening.

"Why?" He asked innocently.

"I don't know," I responded. "It's just the way people are. They find other
people's misfortunes interesting."

He sighed and then turned and rested his head on Star's shoulder. He fell
asleep before we reached the hotel.

"Can you help me with him?" Star asked as we got out of the car. I pulled
him into my arms and walked toward the entrance. He put his arms around my
neck and held onto me tightly. He seemed so small and frail in my arms. I
once again became choked with emotion just thinking how he must have been
suffering.

We were led hurriedly to a third floor suite. I took Nicky to a queen-sized
bed and laid him down. After removing his shoes, I pulled the covers over
him. He rolled on his side and fell asleep.

Ticker, Star and I talked quietly for about an hour. They made several
calls to Ticker's mother to check on their children. They had taken them
there before going to the hospital. Finally, just after two in the morning,
we decided we should try and get some sleep.

It was decided that I would share the room with Nicky. Exhaustedly, I
removed my shoes and shirt, and threw myself across the bed. I was almost
asleep when Nicky started shouting.

Dad!" He yelled. He got up and looked wildly around the room. "Where's
Daddy?" He screamed. I got up and grabbed him, pulling him to the bed.

"It's okay, Nicky," I whispered in his ear. I began cradling him as he
cried uncontrollably. Star came into the room and sat down on the bed
beside us. She rubbed her hand through his hair, attempting to calm him.

"I want Dad!" He'd scream. With each shout, I'd rock him tightly. After
about fifteen minutes he settled down and fell asleep. I pulled him into me
and held him. Star pulled the blanket over us. After kissing Nicky on the
forehead, she left the room.

I can't describe the wave of emotions that surged through my body as I
clung to Nicky. I felt a need to protect the small boy in my arms. I wanted
to keep him safe until he could be once again with Joey.

I had promised him that Joey would survive, and I laid awake the rest of
the night praying that Joey would live and be reunited again with Nicky,
and hopefully, me.



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