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Wildest Dreams
Wildest Dreams

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He grinned. “You just want me to live a long time so you have some rich guy to take care of you in your old age.”

“I’m counting on it,” she said. “I’ll text and call. Try to take it easy today. I’m sure by tomorrow you’ll be fine.”

This was the lot of a single mother—making a choice between her job, which was vital, and her sick child, the core of her being. If he were younger than fourteen she might have asked one of the elderly neighbors to watch him or at least check on him, but at fourteen Charlie would be offended. Hell, at eleven he was offended! He knew the rules, he was responsible. Still...she wanted to be near...

* * *

Blake suited up for his swim, grateful that the sun was shining brightly on the bay even though it was early, mindful of the fact that the water was still going to be freezing cold. He put in his hour and was surprised Charlie wasn’t waiting on the steps for him to get out of the water. It briefly crossed his mind that his mother was keeping him away from Blake, the troublemaker with the tempting bike.

He had planned a long run for today but he switched out his plan—he took the bike on a long ride instead. The riding speed was going to be crucial in the upcoming race. When he got back, there was still no sign of Charlie and there was no one out on the deck at Winnie’s house. Not even Winnie and her nurse.

Lin Su. The first time he saw her he had actually felt his breath catch. All he could see of her was that she was small, wore scrubs and had black hair twisted into some kind of bun. She had laughed with Winnie and Grace, and even though it was at some distance he could see she was beautiful.

Lin Su was intriguing and now, unfortunately, she appeared to be a little angry with him. He wouldn’t necessarily do things differently with Charlie and the bike. He might’ve asked him if it would be all right with his mother or, had he known about the asthma, he might’ve suggested he go easy. Then again, he might not. Blake was no expert, but boys that age needed to find their own limits.

Charlie was nowhere in sight.

By the time Blake had showered and put on clean clothes, there were people on Winnie’s deck. Troy and Mikhail and Winnie were sitting at the outside table. He went downstairs inside his own house, out through the patio doors of his lower level and next door to walk up the outside stairs to Winnie’s deck.

“Incoming,” he hollered, walking up the last few steps.

“Hey, man,” Troy said, standing. “Come on up. How’s it going?”

“Good. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

“We’re just getting ready to wax Winnie in bridge,” Troy said. “Bridge because she won’t play poker.”

“You’re not at school today?” Blake asked Troy.

“I was there this morning and will help Grace at the shop this afternoon. Not much more summer left. You play bridge?”

“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “I was wondering about Charlie. I think this is the first day since I moved in that I haven’t seen him hanging around.”

At that moment Lin Su came onto the deck with a tray of drinks—two cups of tea and two tall glasses of something. One of the cups had a straw in it for Winnie. “He stayed home today,” she said in answer to the question. “He might be coming down with a cold and we’re diligent about keeping germs out of here when we can for Winnie’s sake.”

“It took a lot more than a cold to take me down,” Winnie said.

“A cold wouldn’t help you, however. Can I get you something to drink, Blake?” she asked.

He was ridiculously pleased that she used his first name. He could feel his smile grow to an almost silly width. “No, thank you. I just finished a ride. I hope that cold wasn’t because...you know...”

She put the tray on the table. “He’s had a good summer. An asthma episode can’t bring on a cold but a cold can weaken his resistance to asthma. He seems to be fine—just some congestion and a cough.” She pulled up a chair for Blake and then took one herself, passing out the drinks. “Exercise-induced asthma is probably to be expected since he has a history, but I’ll tell you what’s frightening—when a big attack comes on for no apparent reason. That hasn’t happened in a long time.” She took a sip of her tea. “I’ll leave him home till he’s completely over it.”

“I apologize if the bike brought it on. I had no idea...”

“Of course you didn’t,” Winnie said. “Charlie should have mentioned it. I suspect he wanted to get on that bike so badly he wouldn’t dare risk it. He’s been lusting after your bike since he first laid eyes on it.”

“That’s the worst thing about being fourteen,” Blake said. “Doing all the things you’re supposed to do.”

“I’ll be happy if he learned something. He can have a completely normal life as long as he’s careful.”

And listens to his mother, Blake thought. There were some teenage boys to whom that was a luxury. They couldn’t always be careful.

“Will you promise to stay if we deal?” Winnie asked Blake.

“If I’m not imposing,” he said.

“Not at all. I enjoy having you drop by. By the way, when is the next big race?”

“Three weeks, in Tahoe. I’ll go a week early to train in the mountains there, to get acclimated. My trainer will come here first. We’ll do a trial run, then go to Tahoe together to get ready.”

“Where is your trainer now?” Troy asked.

“She’s in Boulder, her home base. She’s an exercise physiologist. Well, she’s a PhD in physiology, not an ordinary trainer. She’s a partner in an athletic training facility and I’m not the only client by a long shot. Sometimes she’ll send a colleague. Babysitter, that’s all—I have my own degree and have been doing this for a long time. But there’s no substitute for a trainer who challenges the protocol, pushes at the edges of the envelope and generally provides data on the competition that can be useful. She’s a little bit like a manager—sending me daily reports on the results of events from all over the world and making recommendations based on training studies.”

It was quiet around the bridge table. “Sounds a lot more complicated than I thought,” Lin Su said.

“Is complicated,” Mikhail said. “Grace was my full-time job for nine years. You have this trainer part-time?” he asked Blake.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I admit a trainer is beneficial and even necessary, but I’m pigheaded and don’t like a lot of interference. I also don’t like to be too crowded. So, who’s the bridge favorite at this table?”

“Once it was me,” Winnie said. “Then I hired a nurse from Boston. On top of that, I might drop my cards at any moment.”

“My adoptive mother played a lot of bridge. I learned young so I could sit in if they needed a fourth. I shouldn’t play so well—I think my job is at risk,” Lin Su said.

“Is a competitive table,” Mikhail said. “It will anger Winnie if you win. It will anger her if you don’t play well. You are doomed.”

The cards were dealt, but before anyone could pick them up, Lin Su’s phone chimed in her pocket. “Excuse me please, Charlie is checking in.”

Surprise immediately came over her features and she stiffened into a posture of fear. “Your EpiPen? How could you...? Okay, don’t talk too much...The oxygen? Did you call 9-1-1?...Okay, stay on the line, I’ll get them.” She looked at Winnie for just a second. “Charlie can’t breathe. I’m going. Will you be all right?”

“Mikhail and Troy will be here,” she said. “Just go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Blake said.

“I’ve got this,” Lin Su said, turning and running into the house. She pulled her purse out of the kitchen pantry and was on the move.

Blake stayed with her. When she got to the garage and was heading down the drive to her car he caught her. “I’ll drive you,” he said. “You can deal with your phone while I drive. I’m calmer and faster.”

She gave it about one second of thought. “Do you have your phone?”

He pulled it out of his pocket and traded his phone for her keys and they got in. She gave him the beginning of the directions, out of Thunder Point, headed toward south Bandon and Coquille, then she told Charlie to stay calm, stay on the line; she was on her way. She placed the 9-1-1 call and said she needed medical assistance immediately. She explained her son’s condition and even recommended drugs that had been effective before—epinephrine, corticosteroids and magnesium sulfate. She said something very soft to Charlie, then went back to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I don’t know what happened. He was fine this morning—no wheezing, no symptoms—and now he can’t explain because he can’t talk... I’m a nurse. I’m on my way, I might beat you there... Yes, he had an EpiPen and when I asked about it he just said ‘lost.’ That isn’t like Charlie... Yes, I’m coming, Charlie...”

She had a phone to each ear, would stop briefly and say “next left” or “right at the light.”

Blake was cautious but fast. He wouldn’t mind if he picked up a cop who pursued them. In ten minutes’ time he was in a very different part of town—it looked like an industrial area full of storage units and fenced-off areas where big road maintenance and construction equipment were parked. They passed a poor excuse for a strip mall—a convenience store, bar, motel. They drove a little farther, past some run-down apartment buildings and trashy neighborhoods. The sight of rough-looking people—teenagers and adults—just hanging out brought a flood of memories back to Blake.

Lin Su spoke to the 9-1-1 operator in a normal voice but alternately murmured to Charlie, instructing him to remain calm, take even breaths. Her foot on the floorboard of the car tapped wildly but her hands were steady.

“This is it,” Lin Su said. “Right turn, sixth trailer in. Oh, God, they’re there! I never heard sirens!”

Paramedics had just arrived. Blake was pulling up as one of them used a crowbar on the trailer door. It popped open like an old tin can. He parked Lin Su’s car at the front of the trailer so the paramedics would have an unrestricted exit if they took Charlie to the hospital. Lin Su was out of the car and running to her trailer before the car was entirely stopped.

It was then that Blake looked around. There was an old man with a rake in his hand standing between a fairly decent trailer and Lin Su’s extremely small fifth wheel. He held the rake, though there didn’t appear to be anything to rake; it could have been his idea of a weapon. Across from his trailer there were three young men—boys—standing around the back of a truck that was up on blocks. They looked scary, wearing their pants very low on their hips, sporting tattoos and chains, hair scraggly and unkempt, torn T-shirts. He didn’t see any gang colors but they weren’t Sunday school escapees. There were mobile homes and trailers of every variety, all parked within a perimeter of trees on a dirt patch, no grass. There was one small building—a brick structure that could be a public bathroom or laundry facility—and it was covered with graffiti.

A police car entered the park slowly and stopped near the fire rig, and closely following the police car was an ambulance. Two EMTs got out and pulled out a gurney, moving to the trailer. They stayed outside as if waiting for instructions to transport, so Blake did three things. First, he gave the three thugs the stink eye. Then he went to the officer’s car and asked where he might find the hardware to close up and lock that trailer. It was that action that finally seemed to persuade the thugs to wander off. He was given directions to the nearest store. Finally he went to the doorway of the trailer and looked inside.

Lin Su was kneeling on one side of Charlie while two paramedics administered oxygen and managed an IV bag on the other. Charlie was between his mother and the paramedics, eyes closed, fingers twitching a little bit. He looked gray.

Blake tried to stay out of the way for the time being. It was about twenty minutes before the gurney went into the small trailer and came out again with Charlie on it. He appeared to be sleeping; perhaps he’d been sedated. Lin Su followed the gurney outside.

“Is he going to be all right?” Blake asked.

“I think so,” she said. “They’re going to take him to the hospital in Bandon, and if he doesn’t improve right away, they’ll move him to Pacific Hospital, closer to North Bend.”

“Go with him,” Blake said. “I’m going to see if I can close up your trailer. I’ll bring your car and meet you there. Let me see the phones, please?” She dug around in her purse and handed them over. He quickly punched his number into hers and handed it to her. “If his condition or location changes, give me a call, will you? I’ll see you at the hospital as soon as I can get some kind of a lock on this door.”

She looked at him in complete gratitude. Her eyes welled with tears. “Thank you,” she said so softly he barely heard her.

“No crying now,” he said. “It’s going to be all right. Just stay with Charlie.”

Three

Closing up that little trailer turned out to be far less complicated than Blake had expected. The elderly man with the rake informed Blake that he had tools he could loan and together they fixed a padlock onto the mangled door. During that exercise Blake had seen a little bit of the inside of the trailer. It was cozy and compact—a bed that folded out when a table was lifted up, a galley kitchen, a bedroom with a small double bed that took up almost the whole room, a little bath with shower.

Right in the middle of what would serve as kitchen/living room/bedroom, right where he supposed Charlie had collapsed and paramedics tended him, things were messy and awry. The table was pushed up, the bed/bench shoved back, tracks of dirt on the floor, clutter left behind from opening packages of gloves, wipes and syringes. Everything else was shining clean, tidy and spare.

It wasn’t much of a house for a woman and teenage boy. It was so small, leaving little room for belongings. He spied Charlie’s backpack with his laptop in it and scooped it up to take to the hospital with him just in case Charlie didn’t come home that night. It was a mean little shelter in a crappy trailer park and it stung Blake. He didn’t like thinking of Lin Su and Charlie living here when “here” was actually so much better than how Blake and his mother had lived. They’d lived with rats, for God’s sake. Rats and gang members and drug dealers.

He took the backpack and closed up the trailer. By the time he got to the hospital it was growing dark. He walked into the emergency room and asked about Charlie Simmons, and who should walk out of the exam area but Scott Grant, Thunder Point’s doctor.

“Well, hey there,” Scott said, sticking out a hand. “Lin Su said you’d be bringing her car over.”

“And I spotted this,” Blake said, slipping one arm through the backpack strap and presenting his hand for a shake. “How is he?”

“He’s going to be fine but I’m keeping him overnight just to be safe. Besides, he’s weak—an asthma attack takes a lot out of a person. And he was sedated, as well.”

“What happened?” Blake asked. “He was good the last time Lin Su checked with him.”

Scott leaned a hip on the counter. “I haven’t heard the whole story yet, but I think he got chased by some bigger kids from the neighborhood. He said he went to the drugstore to get a refill on his meds. They know him there. But he ran into a problem and got chased all over hell and gone—at least a mile—and he was already struggling a little bit, thus the reason for the refill. Shit like that used to happen to me—I was a little kid in glasses. But I didn’t have asthma. I think going to school in Thunder Point will be easier on him—lot of people to look out for him there. Like Troy. Spencer.”

“Right,” Blake said. “Except they’re not just big kids from the neighborhood. I saw a few of them hanging around, waiting to see what the cops and paramedics did. They’re not your run-of-the-mill bullies. I didn’t see gang colors but I talked to the cop—they’re local hoods, all tatted up, using, holding, selling. The look of longing on their faces might’ve been for the drugs in the paramedics bags. If they chased him I bet they thought he had money in his pocket.”

Scott’s expression darkened. “Is that right?”

Blake lowered his voice and leaned closer to Scott. “It’s a rough neighborhood,” he said quietly. “I grew up around guys like them.”

“You think Charlie was in real danger?”

Blake raised a brow. “He’s in the hospital.”

“Yeah, there’s that. Think they might’ve beat him up or something if they’d caught up with him?”

“No telling. Maybe. Or they might’ve turned him upside down and shook the money out of his pockets. The paramedics used a crowbar on the trailer door so a neighbor and I bolted a padlock to it but... Listen, I’ve got a couple of spare rooms not in use and I’m leaving town in a couple of weeks for a race. I know the price is right on that trailer, but you think it’s possible there’s something around Thunder Point that might fit Lin Su’s budget that we could...”

“We’ll be fine,” Lin Su said, sneaking up on them and cutting him off. “I’ve been looking. I just haven’t had much time. If Winnie is stable and Charlie is going to school in Thunder Point, I mean to find something closer.”

“Good idea,” Scott said. “If for no other reason than you’re too far away if Charlie needs you. If you wouldn’t take offense, we can get our friends looking.”

“Can we talk more about this later?”

“Absolutely,” Scott said. “But...”

“Until something pops up, we can manage,” she insisted.

“Are you going to spend the night here with Charlie?” Blake asked. “Or would you prefer a guest room? I’m sure Winnie has one but so do I—my trainer doesn’t arrive for another week.”

“I’ll be staying here tonight. He’s being admitted,” Lin Su said. “I’ll find a corner to tuck into in case he needs me. Once Charlie is settled in his room I’ll drive you home.”

“I’ll take him,” Scott said. “I’ll be leaving in another half hour, provided no emergencies come in. Charlie’s stable. I just want to do some charting and look in on him one more time, but with you sitting watch I’m not concerned.”

“I’ll call Grace and let her know that Charlie’s going to be fine and they should call the home health care registry to get a substitute for me for tomorrow.”

“I’ll be ready to go in a little while, Blake,” Scott said. Then he went back behind the counter and got on the computer to write his patient notes.

“Can I have a word with you, please?” Blake asked Lin Su.

“Of course,” she said. “What’s on your mind?”

“Can we step outside for just a moment?” he asked. He swung an arm for her to precede him, leaving no room for discussion.

Right outside and a bit to the left of the emergency room entrance was a small courtyard with concrete benches and some potted plants. There were a couple of trash cans and a perimeter of trees. And, fortuitously, no people at the moment.

He faced her. “Your neighbor and I put a padlock on the door of the trailer. I have the key here with your car keys,” he said. “But you’re going to have a problem locking it from the inside, Lin Su. For that matter, that little padlock isn’t going to keep your possessions safe from some of your neighbors if they...”

“It’s not a fancy neighborhood, Mr. Smiley, but we know our neighbors and keep an eye on one another. Regardless of how it looks, they’re not all bad.”

“Mr. Smiley? We’re back to that, are we? Listen to me—for the most part, the folks in that park are decent and neighborly. Your neighbor helped me secure the trailer. He made a point of telling me he looks out for you and Charlie.”

“We’re completely safe,” she said. “Mr. Chester...”

“Is eighty-four and his weapon is a rake. I’m sure you’re on a budget—raising a teenage son can be a strain on the pocketbook. But there will be rentals in Thunder Point that fit your needs. Given the circumstances, stay at my house for a week or so while you look at available property and...”

“Try not to be offensive, Mr. Smiley. I know we don’t live as well as you but we don’t need charity.”

“For God’s sake, Lin Su, I know more about being poor than you’ll ever learn and I’ve been cursed with more pride than even you. Winnie depends on you and doesn’t want another caregiver. Charlie is going to school in town—it starts in less than a week. I like the kid—he’s amazing, so clearly you are a good mother in every way. Now here are the facts—I have five empty bedrooms next door to your patient. Until you can find your own place, you should take advantage of the invitation for a number of practical reasons. The most important reason is that I saw those thugs who shook Charlie down for the money in his pocket and that could happen again.”

The startled expression on her face made him smile.

“I knew it,” he said. “He was alone, headed for the store. They marked him.”

“Mr. Smiley, I hope you understand that I find this inquisition very embarrassing and have concerns about how my employer might regard me after hearing all this.”

“Then we won’t mention it, and if you want to, you can pay rent. But what would be better for me is if you’d just move some things into the loft—a room for you and one for Charlie, your own bathroom. And cook your own food—I’m on a training diet. Ask your friends and neighbors to keep an ear to the ground for available space. No one cares if you live frugally—it’s a virtue. Hell, I haven’t had my own house in my entire life till a few weeks ago—I’m an expert at cutting out the fat and saving money. But after your kid gets hurt because he’s not safe alone there, you have to go to plan B. I’m offering you plan B. Because I like Charlie. You? You get on my nerves. So don’t play the stereo loud.”

She made a small smile. “You don’t like me?” she asked.

“Not that much,” he said. “I like the kid—he’s smart. I like him even more now that I know he’s fighting asthma and an overprotective mother.”

“I should probably question this interest you have in my son,” she said.

“Question your son. He’s an open book, says exactly what’s on his mind. And I knew you for five minutes when I believed you’d covered every subject imaginable with your son—warning him off creeps and predators. Since he was three, I bet.”

He stopped talking for a moment, put his hands in his pockets and looked down. He quietly added, “I work with a lot of kids. Sports training, encouragement, that sort of thing. It’s a well-known fact. It’s very well documented. I didn’t have any of that when I was a kid and I don’t have kids so...” He shrugged.

“So, we about ready to go?” Scott Grant asked, briskly walking out to the courtyard from the hospital. “Lin Su, Charlie is going to his room in about ten minutes. He has responded to medication. I’ll check him in the morning...probably early since I have clinic in town tomorrow. I’ll discharge him then. So? Ready, Blake?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Mr. Smiley? My keys? The backpack?” Lin Su asked.

“Oh. Sure. I’ll talk to you tomorrow sometime. I hope you have a good night.”

“I know the staff here,” she said. “I’ve worked with a lot of them. They’ll fix me up with something.”

* * *

On the drive back to Thunder Point Blake asked Scott how well he knew Lin Su.

“Very well. I’ve worked with her for a couple of years. She specializes in home health care, and in the past two years she’s had three patients in end stage cancer and was assisted by an excellent hospice team. When she didn’t have full-time patients she worked at any one of the local hospitals. She’s an outstanding nurse and her ethics are unimpeachable. I know that she moved from the East Coast to Oregon for Charlie’s health—this is a better area for asthma—and attended nursing college in Oregon when Charlie was small. I think she’s been a licensed RN for about ten years.”

“What about her personal life, home life. Does she date? Have family?”

“Why? Are you interested in Lin Su?”

In fact, he could be, but that wasn’t why he had asked. “I’m concerned about Charlie running into trouble again. Both of them, for that matter. Her neighborhood is overrun by thugs. It seems to be a combination of elderly and real rough characters.”

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