The orb was warm in his hand as Sam crossed a threshold. His surroundings were entirely familiar — no colored air or magic carpets. He was again in his grandfather's office at the farm. This time, JG, not Grampa Tom, was at the desk and looking up at him from the chair. His grandfather's face showed fear. "What's the matter, JG?"
The sound from his grandfather was garbled, unintelligible. He could, however, sense the urgency in JG's pleading attempts to talk to him. Then, the man began to fade until, in his grandfather's place, OD sat in the chair. "These things happen. Just do the best you can."
Sam came suddenly awake, startling Markie, beside him in bed. She saw that Sam, short of breath and shaking, was lathered in a sweat that soaked his T-shirt. Sleepily, she asked, "Sam, what's the matter?"
"Something's very wrong."
Markie rose and tiptoed to the bathroom, returning with a towel. "Dry off. What's very wrong?"
"I don't know, but I think something's wrong with JG."
"Maybe it was just a bad dream like the others. Do you want to wake up Jonathan and Jason?"
He thought seriously of doing just that, but finally said, "No, but I'm going to call Uncle North." He reached for his iPhone, noting the time — 4:45. His uncle answered in a sleepy voice after a few rings.
"Sam, are you all right? Is Marsh okay?"
"We're fine. Sorry to call so early, but I had a weird dream about JG, and I think something might be wrong with him."
After a few minutes during which Sam could hear North talking with Annie, his uncle told the boy, "Annie's going to look in on him. You go back to sleep."
North ended the call.
#
David was awake before Marshall. He hadn't slept well because of the altercation with his friend Desi at the club the night before. He was angry at Desi and at the same time unsure about what caused his friend to act as he had. Of one thing he was certain: if Desi pushed the issue and forced him to choose, he would choose Marshall. Seeing Marshall sleeping beside him, his blond hair spread on the pillow, he felt desire and peace. Nothing about Marshall occasioned anxiety in him, even the knowledge that Marshall wasn't gay. The two of them could figure that puzzle out, one way or another. He smiled as he thought of the small gift he had brought for his boyfriend; he had used the word last night, and Marshall hadn't objected to the word or the public kiss.
Marshall, still asleep, turned a little on his side toward David. A loose maroon sheet, thrown over both twin beds, covered the boys from the hips down. David couldn't resist and with his left index finger gently traced a line from Marshall's throat, down the center of his chest and belly, until it reached the edge of the sheet, which it drew down until the sheet rested just below the beginning of Marshall's hair and exposed the top of his penis. David watched as Marshall's gentle, shallow breathing was interrupted by a long inhalation followed by a sigh and then eyelids fluttering open.
"Sorry, I just can't stop touching you when we're alone. Go back to sleep; I'll stop."
Marshall stretched his arms over his head and sighed, "Don't. I'm glad you woke me." He looked at the sheet and said, "It's better to be awake when you're molested, anyway."
"If I wanted to molest you, I'd do this." David moved his hand under the sheet, and Marshall groaned.
"I need to pee."
"I could make it soft. Then peeing would be easier."
Marshall put his hand behind David's head and drew him in for a kiss. "Let's pee, and then we can make each other soft."
David was pulled out of bed, and the two naked boys walked quietly to the door which Marshall opened only a little, looking out into the hallway toward the bathroom. Seeing no one, Marsh led them into the hall, and they hurried to the bathroom. Halfway there, Vee appeared at the hallway entrance from the living room. The boys stopped and stood, unable to decide which way to go. Vee gave them an appraising look and, pointing at their hard-ons, said, "Get in the bathroom before I throw a bucket of cold water on you." That comment took care of their tumescence as the boys hurried into the bathroom.
In the bathroom, the boys peed at the same time. Marshall asked, "You okay?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll just never be able to show my face in front of your sister again. What if she tells your uncles?"
"She won't, but she'll sure as shit try to make things uncomfortable for us. Just don't make a big deal out of it, and she won't be able to. Ours aren't the first dicks she's seen." David looked at Marshall as if he were crazy. "You'd have to know our family."
"Okay, if you say so." After they washed their hands, David said, "Let's see if we can make it back without Sam and Markie getting a look; I have something for you."
"Well, I did agree to making us soft, but I think Vee seeing us took care of that — I hope temporarily."
They made it back to Marshall's room unobserved, and after they made each other hard and soft again, they cleaned up. Then, David went to his bag and came back with a small box. "Happy birthday, Marsh." He cut Marshall's protest short, "I know — no gifts. Sorry, I couldn't help myself."
Instead of objecting, Marshall embraced David, running a hand through the boy's hair. They sat on the edge of the beds, and Marshall carefully opened the package, taking off the ribbon first and then seeing that David hadn't used tape. Something about the care with which the package had been wrapped spoke to Marshall about the kind of person David was. Looking David in the eyes, Marsh removed the top of the box. Under tissue paper, Marshall found a simple gold chain with a gold ornament hanging from it. On the one side, the ornament had a male symbol intertwined with another male symbol and on the other side with a female symbol. Looking at David through tears, Marshall saw the question in his boyfriend's eyes.
"It's beautiful."
"You don't frighten me. Nothing about you frightens me."
Marshall wanted to tell David that he loved him, but he thought it was too soon. Then he thought about Armin and how quickly opportunity can vanish. "I love that you said that."
David understood what Marshall meant. He started to say that he loved Marshall, but said instead, "I mean it." Then, seeking more reassurance about the end of the last night, he continued, "I hope you don't think all my friends are crazy."
"I don't think he's crazy. He's in love with you, and I can't think of anything worse than being in love with someone who only wants to be a friend unless it's the person you love not seeing that you do. I hope you didn't lose a friend."
"That's up to him. Let's go see what's doing. You owe me a performance."
On their way out to the living room, Marshall picked up the guitar that stayed in the room he used during visits to his grandfather's condo: an old but undistinguished Gibson. No one but Vee was in the living room, and she regarded the boys without derision as they walked onto the balcony. Marshall indicated a chair to David and then took one a few feet away. After tuning the instrument, he played a piece he loved, one he had learned three years ago: the second movement of Vivaldi's Lute Concerto in D Major. The movement was unhurried and to Marshall's mind contemplative. He had told Armin that his playing was workmanlike, but his playing for David was unstudied and fluid. Unlike the performance for Armin, this one was without error, and David closed his eyes, imagining he and Marshall strolling in a quiet meadow filled with wild flowers hand in hand, until the final notes faded. The playing transported him, and long after his and Marshall's lives went their separate ways, this music would move him to tears.
When he opened his eyes, Marshall was smiling at him. David said, "Jesus … that was … I mean, you played so wonderfully … I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything. That was the best I've ever played it because I was playing for you." As they rose to go in, they saw Vee sitting with her back against one of the glass doors to the balcony, where she had listened to the piece without watching the boys. They tapped on the glass, and Vee rose, smiling at them. As they passed her, she told her brother, "You'll do."
#
The clock on the mantle read 7:10.
Sam and Markie had just come out of their rooms when the phone rang. Marshall started to answer it, but apparently one of his uncles beat him to it. Sam looked at Marshall and, frowning, shrugged. He thought, I hope it's nothing. "Let's do breakfast."
Before they could get to the kitchen to begin preparations, Jason came out of his and Jonathan's bedroom. "Guys, come sit at the table for a minute."
The kids gathered around the table. "The call was from your father, Marsh. Jim's apparently had a stroke. I don't know anything else about his condition. When they have him stabilized at MCMC, we'll move him from The Dalles to OHSU. The others are coming in from Goldendale, and we're going to stay here until he's moved. Jon's on the phone with the hospital now."
Markie looked at Sam, horrified. "When did it happen?"
"A few hours ago. After Sam's call, they looked in on him and found him unconscious."
Sam's first thought was of OD. He walked deliberately out onto the balcony and called his father. "Dad, how's OD doing?"
"I don't know; he's gotten even more quiet than he usually is. He's with North at the hospital. How are you doing — and the others?"
"I'm scared, and I think Marsh is, too. Are you coming over?"
"Yeah, I'm packing now, and I'll bring JT and Jamie. Vi's coming as well. I'll let you know if I hear anything. We'll see you in a couple of hours or so. Sam, I think Lucas would like to hear from you. Just be prepared; he's overly quiet — first you and now Jim. We're going to have to help him even if he resists. See you soon. I love you."
"You, too. See you, Dad."
Just as Sam walked back into the living room, his Uncle Jonathan came out of his bedroom. Every face in the room turned to him. "Okay, here's what we know. Jim had bleeding from a ruptured blood vessel deep in his brain. Fortunately, none of his vital functions — heart, breathing, nervous-system regulation — are affected. He has problems with speech and short-term memory, and he has some weakness on his left side. The damage doesn't seem to be progressing, and his neurologist at MCMC thinks he'll make a substantial recovery, but the recovery will probably take time. Lucas and North are traveling with Jim to OHSU where the Brain Institute will take over."
"When will they get to OHSU?" Marshall leaned into David, seated beside him.
"They're moving deliberately, so I think about three hours."
Sam asked, "When can we see him?"
"That depends on what his neurologists say. He'll be in the neuroscience intensive-care unit for a short while. I promise we'll get you in to see him as soon as he's ready for you."
Reflective silence took everyone at the table, and Jonathan went back to talk with his husband. Sam rose and, pulling Markie with him, walked back out onto the balcony. She held his hand while he called OD. Lucas answered after a few seconds.
"Sam, I'm sorry I haven't called. Your dad said he'd talked to you."
"OD, I'm so sad for you. Can I help you?"
Lucas heard more than the question. He heard the anxiety behind the question: Sam's concern about how he was doing on top of the boy's concern about his grandfather. "No, I'm fine."
Sam didn't believe his other dad but knew that digging around in OD's submerged feelings wasn't a good idea. "I need to talk with you alone when you get here."
"As soon as we get your grandfather settled, I'll come over to the condo."
"You promise?"
Lucas's answer was immediate. "I promise."
#
Markie put her arms around Sam as soon has he ended the call with Lucas. Sam seemed more composed than she thought he would be, almost as if he had made a decision or created a plan. Sam smiled at Markie, "Thanks. Let's go in. I'm worried about Marsh."
When he and Markie had come in from the balcony, Sam walked over to the sofa where Marshall and David sat along with Vee. Marshall looked up at him, and Sam leaned over to kiss his cousin on the cheek. "They're on the way. OD will come over when they have JG settled. I think this will be hard, but I also think JG will be okay." Then he looked at David. "Can you stay a while to look after this one?"
David put his arm around Marshall and replied, "I talked with my dad, and I'll hang around for a while — until you get tired of me."
Marshall produced a small smile and said, "I'm not yet."
Vee was normally so self-possessed that people hardly worried about her, but Markie knew she was distressed. She was unhappy that Sam apparently didn't see that.
She was about to ask Vee how she was doing when Sam beat her to it.
"I'm not happy," she answered, "but none of us is."
Markie told the girl, "If you want to talk, I'm here." Vee smiled at her and nodded in thanks.
The five kids sat quietly as the time passed, talking occasionally about inconsequential things. After thirty minutes, Sam asked Marshall, "Can I fool with the Gibson?"
Marshall nodded and Sam picked up the guitar and began to practice scales. His dexterity was still impaired by nerve damage from his injury, but playing was getting easier, especially now that he didn't have to wear the sling. After ten minutes, Sam began to pick a song by Stephen Foster, "Hard Times Come Again No More," that he and Marshall loved and had played and sung together. The two cousins smiled at one another as Sam played and Marshall nodded encouragement. When he finished, Sam put the guitar on its stand just as Jonathan came back into the room with his husband.
Marshall swallowed and said, "Yeah, hard times."
"I'm headed to the hospital; Jason's staying here. If anything changes, I'll call him." The two men hugged and kissed before Jon left. Because of his father's long friendship with Jason, Marshall knew a lot about Jason's relationship with his grandfathers. Jim had taken care of Jason's father when he was dying of cancer, and both of the boys' grandfathers had helped Jason come out. JT had once told Marshall that Jim and Tom were as much fathers to Jason as Fred had been before his death. Marshall nodded to Sam and then looked at Jason, who was standing at the counter between the living room and the kitchen looking almost lost.
The boys both walked over to their uncle and took his hands. Jason smiled at them. "I'm okay," he said, hugging both his nephews. "How about if I take you all to lunch? They won't get to Portland for a while, and an early lunch won't hurt any of us, and getting a walk in won't, either."
At the beginning of a long wait, they all trooped down to the street where the late morning breezes and the sounds of the city reminded them that tragedy wasn't the whole of their lives.
#
In the late afternoon, Jason had told Sam and Marshall that their fathers were going to stay at OHSU until everybody had a chance to see JG. "Sam, Lucas told me to be sure to tell you that you and he would have a talk after everyone leaves the hospital tonight."
Before the family left for OHSU that evening, Jason suggested that only the cousins should go because the waiting room for the seventeen-bed neuroscience intensive-care unit was so small. Sam, Marshall, and the newly arrived JT, rebelled a little because each wanted his particular friend at the hospital for support. Their uncle insisted otherwise, at least for the first visit. As they were headed to the elevators, Sam suddenly said, "I need to get something."
The others waited until Sam returned carrying a crystal sphere. Jason and the cousins recognized the prop used in the films based on Tom's sci-fi/fantasy series, Gyres Chronicles. The director of two of the films had given the orb to the cousins' grandfather when he had visited the set. Jason was going to ask why his nephew was bringing the bauble, but the question was stillborn because its importance to Sam was obvious.
The waiting room held a small number of families facing worlds that had crumbled, blasted by trauma or weakened by disease or because a stroke, like Jim's, had taken away part of a life. The pervasive uncertainty in the room and the sense of life's fragility frightened the cousins. They were too young to have spent much time considering death, but this summer had changed things — with Sam's shooting and Armin's passing and now the threat to Jim. Their uncle's reassurance about JG's condition seemed misplaced in this anteroom where brain-sick patients hovered somewhere between recovery and death. Sam, though, had been in a place very much like the one where JG lay now.
Clutching the orb, he was forming a notion as to the meaning of his strange dreams of the elements.
Uncle Jon came through the door from the intensive-care section accompanied by a middle-aged woman in a lab coat. When they spotted Jason and the kids, now sitting in a corner of the waiting room, they walked over. Jon introduced the woman to the group, "This is Dr. Navrilov, one of the neurointensivists at the hospital. She's leading the team caring for Jim."
Sam recognized the same Eastern European accent as Lita Koresh, OD's mentor at Stanford. Dr. Navrilov was smaller than Koresh (or maybe seemed so since Sam had seen Lita Koresh when he was quite young), but, like Koresh, she exuded the confidence her training and experience conferred on her. "Your grandfather had what we call an intracerebral hemorrhage — that means bleeding deep in the brain. We don't know why the bleeding occurred. He may well have had a small aneurysm from birth. Fortunately the bleed was small — he was discovered in time — and I think we'll get him out of the NICU tomorrow. I'm trying now to determine the extent of the brain damage he suffered."
She noticed the look of anxiety on the young faces when she used the term brain damage. She quickly added, "I don't think he'll have major deficits, but there are some motor and speech problems. With good rehabilitation, he may well recover most of what's now lost." She looked at each of the cousins in turn and concluded, "You can help him."
Dr. Navrilov left, and Jon sat with them. "Lucas and North are with him now. He's a little confused and frustrated. He's a doc, so I think he has some idea of what's happened to him, but I don't think he's ever been a patient before. North and Luke will be out shortly, and I've arranged for each of you to go back for a short while. He can't speak clearly, so don't worry if you can't understand him. You can tell him that you don't, and it's probably obvious, but it would help if you tell him that you love him and that you're sure he'll get better."
When Sam had been in the ICU earlier in the summer, he had looked at visitors over the bed rails, and he had heard the same thing from all of them except OD. OD alone had told him the brutal truth. "I don't know what will happen, but I'll be here with you until we do know." And, after a few days, he and OD knew that he would live and that he would be the Sam he was before the violence. When Sam saw JG, he would tell his grandfather the truth, and he would try to give him something to hold onto while he tried to get back from the brink, as OD had done in extending Sam a lifeline when he said: "You are all I'm thinking about now."
Magic came in many forms — dreams, baubles, and sometimes the right words. Sam would try to make magic for his grandfather.
#
JG was pale. Sam had never seen the man helpless, but he seemed helpless now. The other cousins had briefly attended their grandfather's bedside with Jason alongside them. Sam had waited for his visit until all the others had gone in and returned; even Marshall looking shaken. Sam leaned over and kissed JG on the forehead. He joked, "The date was too much for you, huh?"
The left side of Jim's mouth curled up slightly while the other side of his face remained slack. He made a slurred reply that Sam couldn't understand. What he could understand was his grandfather's obvious frustration that he couldn't make himself understood. Sam said to his Uncle Jason, "Could I have a few minutes alone with JG?"
Jason wasn't sure that leaving the boy alone with his grandfather in this condition was a good idea, but he sensed the calm in his nephew. "Okay, but just a few minutes. Then we have to let Jim get some rest."
When his uncle was out of the little room with its glass doors and bright lights, Sam moved closer to JG's bed. When he realized that turning his head was difficult for JG, he moved to the foot of the bed. Sam took a deep breath and began, "I don't know what will happen — whether or not you'll get better or how much better you'll get." He saw the same half-smile appear again on his grandfather's face. "You know how Grampa Tom had Kendall cross over to the other Gyre — with this." He produced the glass sphere. "When he found himself in that strange place, all he wanted at first was to get home. But, the orb was taken from him, and he learned a lot while he tried to find it. I know this is just a piece of glass, but I want you to hold it when you feel like you won't get back. I told you about my dreams, and in my dreams I crossed over and came back. I'll go over to be with you, and we'll come back together."
Sam walked to the bedside and placed the bauble in his grandfather's unparalyzed hand. He swore he saw blue light pulse from the depths of the sphere. JG's grip was weak, but he held the orb as a tear coursed down his left cheek, and he nodded as much as he could.
#
When they had all returned from the visits at OHSU, the condo became crowded with family and friends. Jonathan had told them that Dr. Navrilov had decided to move Jim tomorrow morning to a regular bed on the neuro floor. Visiting would be easier, although Jim would be busy with regular physical and speech therapy.
After dinner, North, Vee, Annie, and Marshall along with David went across Portland to stay at their home; everyone else was at JG's Pearl District place.
#
Lucas had been quieter than usual at dinner, as Jerry had noted, but after they all had finished and gone on their ways, he asked Sam to join him on the balcony. Sam became a little concerned when his dad followed OD and him outside. The only light shone from the moon and the interior lights.
The three stood in a rough triangle, close enough to touch one another. "North and I have talked about how to help Jim as he recovers," OD began. "I've decided to stay in Goldendale for a while. North and Annie have full teaching loads in the fall, and getting back and forth from Portland to Goldendale would be a problem for them. I can work any place there's a whiteboard."
Lucas was about to continue when his son almost shouted, "No! I'll stay. I need to be here, anyway. I promised JG. You and Dad need to get back to Pasadena. I'll get registered for school, and I'll stay at JG's. Grandma Vi and Rodrigo will help me."
Lucas and Jerry looked at one another for a few moments until Jerry asked, "What about Markie?"
"I talked to her, and she understands. I just know that I need to help JG now."
Sam hugged Jerry and then Lucas, whispering to him, "I promised him, OD."
"Sam, you have school and friends in Pasadena — a life — and your father has his studio, not to mention your being a target here. I'm not going to argue with you; you're going back."
"I won't do it, and if you try to make me, I'll just run and come back here."
Jerry broke into laughter. "Listen to you both. Or, maybe I should ask: 'Would you listen to each other?'"
Lucas looked at his husband, and a communication passed between two people who understood and loved each other at a primal level. Lucas nodded, and Jerry told the boy, "It's settled then. We all stay."
"OD, what about your work? You need to be down there, where you can see the people you're working with."
"I need to be up north more. When I ran away to Goldendale from Portland, I didn't like the place much; I didn't like me much. But Jim, Tom, and North were there — and Martin and the horses, too. It was my first real home, and I had to put up with a lot to live among my new family instead of run. With Sam Marshall's help I finally stopped running.
"Although I want to be with you and your father, I would have understood if either of you felt you had to go back to Pasadena, and we would have made it work. But I guess my son somehow inherited my stubbornness.
"Well, I arrived in Goldendale with nothing. Now everyone I love most will be there. That is as it should be."