De Proprio Motu
 

FROHIKE:

Jo has arrived.

She glances at the sleeping figure leaning on my shoulder, sighs a little, and strokes his hair with her first two fingers.

"Juliet came to," I inform her in a whisper.

"I'm glad." She checks the monitors, and picks up the chart to read it. She peruses the information in the metal book for a few minutes, then places it back in its slot.

"How is her father?" Jo asks me softly.

"Not good. And I haven't even had a chance to talk to her mother to let her know she woke up." I need at least four of me right now. At minimum.

"Melvin, why don't you go see the mother. I'll stay with these two. And by the way, the charge nurse is a classmate of mine." She winks at me.

Ah, no problems getting excellent care...I swear that Jo knows at least half of every hospital staff between Richmond and Baltimore.

I try to move without disrupting a dozing Byers; unfortunately, he senses my movements and wakes immediately.

"It's all right. Jo is here. I'm going to speak to Caroline."

He nods mutely, then settles back into what they call a recliner around here. Jo covers him again, assures him she'll be right here if he needs anything.

As I leave, I watch as Jo silently retrieves her rosary beads from her purse.

At moments like this, I wish I could share in the faith she has.
 

Caroline is seated near her unconscious husband. Unlike her daughter, her husband is not breathing on his own, and the noise of the ventilator gives the room a sinister air.

I ask her how she is, can I get her anything, do anything for her?

"Actually, Mr. Frohike..."

"It's just Frohike," I remind her gently.

"As you wish. I'm waiting for my son to get here. Can you show him where we are, once he's here, try to bring him up to speed? I'm sorry, I know it's my place to do it, but I'm just so overwhelmed..." Her voice breaks, and her dry-eyed, calm countenance caves in.

I place my hand on her shoulder, attempting to offer comfort to her, and it feels so empty.

In less than two days, her comfortable, pleasant life as a college professor, wife, and mother of two grown, independent children has been transformed into a living nightmare.

Her own Vietnam.

In spite of her momentary haggardness, she is an attractive woman in her mid-sixties. The dark hair has gone to gray, but is still well-styled and sleek, and she has Juliet's dark, curious, intelligent eyes. Juliet should age nicely, if her mother's looks are any indication.

"Juliet woke up, Caroline," I tell her softly.

"Oh, thank God!" She reaches over and embraces me. "Is she still awake?"

"No, she wasn't able to stay awake long...but she recognized Byers immediately. She asked for him by name." I don't really know how significant this is, but to me, it carried the glimmer of victory.

"John is still with her? He should really go home and get some rest," Caroline falls into maternal mode again.

"Caroline, I don't think you could pry him out of there with the jaws of life tonight...and a very dear friend of mine is with them right now. Jo Gilfillan. In addition to being a good friend, she is a former nurse, and knows some of the staff here...she'll make certain your family is well-cared for."

"Mr. Frohike...I mean, Frohike, as you prefer, I'd like to thank you...you barely know us, yet-"

"I know Byers very well. He's like one of my own kids to me."

"I sensed that. We love John very much, you know. He's made our Juliet so happy."

"He loves her. For him to get to the point where he would be able to propose to her...ma'am, you have no idea."

This makes her laugh. "I think I do...I know what I went through with Jeffrey." The memory makes her smile. "I swore sometimes, he was never going to do it...but when he did...and I knew, when I met him, that he was the only person in the world for me, and I would wait until he did...and that's how Juliet feels about John. And having met him, I can see why."

"He's a good boy."

"That he is. And he'll be a good husband, and a good father if they should decide to have children." She studies me in the dim light. "If you don't mind my saying so, you're quite a bit older than John...and you don't exactly...well..."

"Look as if we would be friends?" I chuckle.

"Yes." She looks a bit embarrassed.

"I admit, it's probably an unlikely association...but it seems we had nothing to do with our being thrown together...and nothing's been the same since."

"Good friends will do that." I'm grateful she doesn't press; I really do not like to go into the details of how our association was formed with the uninitiated. "And you are good friends. Juliet commented to me from the beginning that there was a great deal of love and caring in this small circle, and she feels privileged to be part of it."

"We're happy to have her." And we are. I realize this as I say it.

"I worry about her sometimes...I hope being engaged will help her to get away from her old life...you know that she worked on a lot of secret government projects, don't you?"

"I'm aware of that." And I squirm when she says it. She obviously knows nothing of what we do...and I'd like to keep it that way. Make her think her daughter's accident was a random act of an indifferent God, which, if there is one, I'm utterly convinced he is. I don't want her to be aware that we may have been the very ones that put her daughter in the line of fire...I don't think we were, but we are loosely associated with Luanne Russell, and that could imply guilt by association...

Like it or not, I'm such a good Catholic boy. I can never shake the guilt.

"This is going to sound odd from a woman who has worked professionally all of her adult life...but I'm hoping Juliet will abandon her work."

That is an odd sentiment from a professional woman such as Caroline Parker.

"I'd like to see her raise a family, not be involved with...some of the things I think she was involved with. She would never be able to tell us, of course...but I think Juliet needs peace in her life, and doing what she does, well, it's not going to come her way."

No kidding, ma'am.

"Perhaps if she were to do something different...I admit to a prejudice, uh, Frohike..." I think she almost called me Mr. Somewhere in there. ..."her father and I were always vaguely uncomfortable with her choice of computer science...but she was so gifted in mathematics as a child...I just wish there was a way she could use that for purposes that would bring her happiness, not consternation."

I know some of the projects Juliet has been involved with, but not to the detail that Byers is aware of...and I'm wondering now what she knows.

And I need to keep in mind that I'm dealing with a Shakespearean scholar who is married to a medieval literature scholar, and there is probably a great deal of built-in prejudice to things technological...still, I can't help but wonder if the woman's concerns are not unfounded. Caroline Parker does not strike me as a neurotic woman, nor as one concerned with controlling her children. I would almost feel better if she were.

"Dr. Parker-"

"Caroline."

"Would you like to see your daughter? I'll be happy to stay with your husband while you visit her."

She blinks her tired eyes at me. "I'd like that very much, Frohike. Thank you. I won't be long." She shuffles out of the room, much less lightness in her step than should be there, even for a woman of her age.

But still stronger than I would probably ever be in her position.
 

BYERS:

I'm awakened by a gentle shake of my arm, and a male voice whispering my name.

It takes me a few moments to register that this is Caliban, Juliet's brother.

"John? You okay?"

I am so amazed and painfully touched that this family, with more than their share of tragedy heaped on their platter, is so concerned with me...they have the best hearts I've ever known...at least since Frohike and Langly.

I then remember that Jo, Frohike's friend, is sitting with us, and she just nods.

"I thought you'd want to talk to Caliban." She says it simply, softly, matter-of-fact.

She is correct.

Caliban-Cal, as he prefers to be called, I remember in the fuzzy recesses of my virtually nonfunctioning brain-is five years younger than Juliet, a graduate student in linguistics, and a really decent guy. I'll be one of the lucky ones. I'll have a decent brother-in-law on both sides of my family.

"She's been awake," I tell Cal.

"That's good. Lemme take a look at her."

I listen to her breathing. It's still a little ragged, there's a lot of congestion in her lungs, but it's getting smoother and softer. The monitor confirms my suspicions.

Maybe if I breathe with her, it will help.

I force myself to breathe evenly and quietly. Then I lean down near her, kiss her cheek, and stay close to her ear.

And to my amazement, she seems to be trying to synchronize her breathing with mine. At least it seems that way. I watch the numbers on the monitor. And they reflect my suspicions.

"She looks pretty trashed up...but Juliet's tough. She'll get well. She's like that." Her little brother nods his head hard, as if he had the final word on it.

I hope he does.

Another soft set of footsteps enters the room-it's Caroline. She hugs her son, then me, then greets Jo.

"You must be Jo. Thank you for coming."

"I'm sorry about your family," Jo says quietly and sincerely. Jo doesn't embellish. She just says what needs saying.

No wonder she and Frohike are such good friends.

Caroline turns to me. "John, you have to go home now. You need some rest."

"I don't want to leave her."

"John. You won't do her any good falling down exhausted. She needs you to be strong." Caroline is staring me down.

As tired as she is, she's talking about me getting rest?!

Jo chimes in softly, "Byers, the hard part hasn't even begun. Trust me on this. You need to get some rest."

What does she mean, the hard part hasn't even started yet?

Wasn't this hard enough? Isn't it still?

Caroline looks at me firmly. "Cal is going to stay with Juliet...and Jo, would you mind terribly staying with my husband for a few hours while I get some sleep at my motel?"

"Not at all." Jo picks up her bag, and proceeds to move towards the door, but not without a parting shot to me.

"Byers. Go home. I'll have Melvin come to get you in a few minutes. You need this."

I guess if Caroline can get a few hours' reprieve...maybe it wouldn't hurt me...

But I don't want to be alone...
 

Frohike comes for me, takes me gently by the arm...I ask him how Jeffrey is, he just shakes his head, reports no improvement, no diminishment...I'm a little heartened that he has not gone downhill at least.

"Frohike. I don't want to go home."

"I understand."

He says nothing more on the drive home.

I fall asleep...and when he awakens me, we are at his apartment.
 

MICHAEL:

Jesus Christ, I'm tired. It's after 3 a.m. and I gotta get up at a semidecent hour so I can go with Langly to DC...and I researched stuff all night...and if Langly thought he was freaked, he ain't seen nothing yet.

Looks like Dad's not gonna make it home tonight...might as well peel off the clothes and get ready for bed. My eyes are killing me from my contacts. I've been up for so long.

I'm in my shorts and my T-shirt and I hear keys in the door. Who the fuck...has to be either Dad, Langly or Byers...

Two out of three. Dad, looking real beat, and Byers, looking like death warmed over.

"Hey." I greet them, popping my glasses on to make sure I'm seeing right. No, I'm not really decent, but hey, it's just Dad and the prof, and they're just guys, when you get down to it. I got nothing they haven't seen before.

"You're home." Dad sounds shocked.

"Where the hell would I be?"

"Don't make me answer that." He sounds more tired than anything...and he looks about a hundred years old right now.

"So Prof? You staying?" I ask him. "You can have my room." I mean, I changed the sheets and everything for Les, the bitch...

"All right." He seems kind of uncertain, but I think that's because the prof doesn't like to put people out.

He's not putting people out. We're the Frohikes, for Christ's sake, not people!

I show the prof where stuff is, like the shower and all, like he wouldn't know or anything, but he's like sleepwalking, might not remember.

Dad sits down at the kitchen table, asks me to pour him a shot of J&B neat. And get him a bowl of milk and crackers.

Oh boy. When he asks for that combination, you know it's been tough.

"Dad? How's Juliet?"

"Improving. Unfortunately, her father is not."

"Whatcha mean?" Nobody told me anything about this.

"I mean, Dr. Parker, her father, suffered a brain bleed...probably from the stress...and he's doing very poorly."

Dad sounds so whipped. This is really wearing him down. Big time.

I hand him the J&B, I finally know how to pour the damn elephant piss, and I start crumbling up the Premiums in a cereal bowl.

Oh God. Dr. Parker, Juliet's Dad...and that reminds me, it's June 18, it's Father's Day.

I hand him a bowl of crackers I poured milk over, it's kind of pasty now, the way he likes it.

"Hey, Dad. Happy Father's Day." I go behind him and I give him a great big bear hug from behind.

And he just grabs me and hangs on to me for dear life.

Fuck, don't let him start crying again.

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

FROHIKE:

Oh God. It's Father's Day...I forgot.

But my son didn't.

I love this boy so much. I need him so much right now.

I never could have imagined leaning on a child of mine for strength...but in this moment, I do, with a vengeance.

I always felt it was unfair to expect your children to care for you, that it should be the other way around.

But Michael's not a child anymore, and I need his strength and love right now more than I need anything.

I am ashamed that I need this, but I can't deny the need.

And he doesn't reject me for it. He just holds me, like I need him to. I can feel brown silky hair brush my shoulder and strong arms around my chest.

I think all that swimming built him up some...but I think most of that is simply from the fact that he is an adult.

How did I ever live without him?
 

"Dad. Tomorrow, Langly and me, we gotta go to DC."

I'm trying to settle my ragged stomach as he makes this announcement.

"For what?" The idea that they're going to DC is not in and of itself unsettling; the fact that he announced this to me as if he's about to drop a bomb on me is what is.

"Get this. The Thinker wants to meet Langly. In person. Alone."

I don't like this...it's a set up, and I know it. The Thinker would NEVER expose himself. And he's said so, on many occasions.

"So why are you going?" If he specified Langly alone, then why is my son going?

"I figure, I can stay sort of invisible, but you know, be around if anything goes bad, if it's a scam or something-"

NO! "Michael, if this is a setup, then your being there will do nothing but get you hurt along with Langly...don't go. Neither of you. And if you want, I'll call Langly myself."

"But he says it's important."

"Michael, they all say it's important. And how many times do they end up blowing you off?"

"Well, we figure, that's probably worst-case scenario..."

"No, Michael, that's your best-case scenario." I don't even want to contemplate the worst-case one.

"Langly says it was weird. Like this guy called him by this nickname that only his brother used to use."

"Which was?"

"George."

"How many Georges are there in the world, Michael? It's a lucky guess."

"Langly says then he asked for him by his full baptism name."

"Birth certificates are public record, Michael. You know that."

"Yeah, but tie the two together...I mean, how many people are gonna know, Dad? I mean, Joan would, but she's gone."

Very gone. And Langly has not coped well with this fact. Not that I blame him. But between all that's gone on, he's going to have a long and slow heal.

I consider all the facts. The Thinker has been a primary contact for eleven years. He is one of our more helpful, solicitous, and friendly contacts...he always asks after everyone, seems to have a special affection for Langly...I guess it would make sense that he would ask for Langly...but I still don't like it. It smells bad.

And why would someone as secretive as The Thinker, a person who absolutely has refused to permit exposure of his real name to us, who was one of the few persons we invited to Allison and Langly's wedding that did not show, whose locations we can never get a grip on...why would he want to meet now?

It doesn't make sense.

And I will not sacrifice my son.

Not for anything.

Once was enough.
 

MICHAEL:

Once again, I'm on the sofa.

Least this time, it's for a good cause.

I can't believe what a bitch my sister is. Well, yeah, actually, I can, but I thought for a minute there...

She fucking broke Dad's heart.

Like he doesn't get his broken enough as is.

She and me, we're gonna have a talk. Soon.

Course, Dad's gonna be pissed off at me tomorrow...he does NOT want me going to DC with Langly, he doesn't even want Langly to go, and he's telling me I can't do it, I'm not gonna do it...

But I already told Langly I'd do it, and I'm not gonna welch on my word.

It's not like my credibility is totally solid. But I got to get it there.

God, I wish Kelly was here...I wish she had her arms around my back, and her mouth on mine, and my cock stuffed inside her...oh man. Just thinking about her makes me horny.

I oughta be ashamed of myself, I mean, things are going down ugly all over the place, all I can think about is getting laid...

Hey, but I'm not. I mean, Kelly, she's like the most glorious thing in the world ever happened to me...I know now why the prof's in such bad shape over Juliet.

God, if anything ever happened to Kelly, I think I'd be a dead man.

And like, I would probably think before, why would Langly and Ally go through all the shit they did, but you know, now I can figure out why. Not really something I can put a name on, but I know it's there.

And even more than the sex, I just want Kelly to be here. She always makes me feel like I'm the greatest guy in the world, and that she loves me and cares about me, and I'm important...

Talked about getting hooked on a feeling.

Maybe I should ask her to marry me...

Frohike, get some sleep, you're insane. No way. Not now. Not for a long time.

Still, maybe someday...
 

FROHIKE:

These kids are going to drive me over the edge, I swear it.

Between my daughter's selfishness and lack of understanding, Byers' and Juliet's new world of hurt, the agony between Allison and Langly, and now, my son's announcement that he and Langly are going to DC to meet a contact whom I believe is stringing them along into something dangerous...

No wonder I live on crackers and milk. Okay, and Scotch. God bless J&B.

I need to get some sleep. It will be daylight soon enough, and Byers and I will need to return to Baltimore for another long day.

And then there's the matter of a little side trip to DC...
 

I creep out into the hallway, trying very hard not to disturb the two sleeping young ones.

First stop is Michael's room, where Byers has sunk into a hard, heavy sleep, for which I am grateful. He's going to need it. I'm tempted to pull the covers up over him a little better, but I fear if I go into the room any further, I'll disturb him.

He looks so much younger when he's asleep. They all do.

On the living room sofa is my pride and joy and number one headache, corner of the pillow stuffed into his mouth, snoring lightly.

Talk about looking young.

I know Michael is a sound sleeper, and I have no qualms about going over and fixing the blanket so it covers him more securely. He seems to sense that something reassuring is going on around him, and he snuggles deeper into the pillow, sighing.

They're all driving me crazy.

And that's why this is my day.

Happy Father's Day, indeed.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

END OF PART 38