The year is 2007, and Trevor Gage has recently turned fifteen.  Suddenly, being Trevor’s father isn’t such an easy task for John Gage, any more than being Johnny’s son is an easy task for Trevor.  A stubborn battle of the wills often ensues, as Trevor attempts to assert his independence, while at the same time, Johnny is forced to stifle that independence whenever it threatens to lead Trevor in to trouble. After one too many battles, Trevor decides a change is in order, and leaves his father’s home for what he is certain will be greener pastures. When tragedy strikes and Johnny needs his son by his side, will Trevor return to his father, or turn his back on him?

A Father’s Love is posted in four parts of approximately fifty pages each, and includes scenes that display Johnny and Roy’s friendship, as well as Johnny’s friendship with other members of the Station 51 crew.

Cover Art By: Ria

A Father’s Love

*A Father’s Love takes Johnny and Trevor forward in time five years, to the summer of 2007. This doesn’t mean that there might not be future stories with Trevor as a little boy, but for this story Johnny and Trevor are dealing with the volatile teen years.

*As always, thank you for your interest in my work. It’s been a pleasure to get to know so many of you.

*I must thank Ria for the beautiful picture she provided for this story. If you’d like to send Ria feedback regarding her drawing, you may do so by clicking on her name – Ria. As well, thank you to, Audrey, Chuck, and Icecat for assistance in getting the picture formatted for the cover page. More thank you’s to those who assisted with A Father’s Love, appear at the end of part 4. 

*For those of you who might be new to this Website, Trevor Gage first appears in Dancing with the Devil, and then in several other stories including The Phantom and the Parselmouth, Firefighter’s Tears, and Uncle Johnny Santa Claus.  As well, reference is made in this story to the This Old House trilogy that appears in my Emergency Fan Fiction Library.

* Adult language is occasionally present in A Father’s Love.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter 1

            “But why?”

     “Because I said so.”

     “Pops!”

     “Don’t stand there and ‘Pops’ me using that tone, young man.”

     “But that’s not an answer to my question.”

     “What’s not an answer to your question?”

     “ ‘Because I said so.’ It’s not an answer, it’s a copout.”

     “In this case, it’s an answer.”

     “That’s not fair and you know it!”

     John Gage shut the door to his office. Trevor had stopped at the Eagle Harbor Fire Station on his way home from school, as had been his habit since he’d started kindergarten. But kindergarten was ten years in the past now, and no longer did Trevor’s after-school visits revolve solely around cookies, a glass of milk, and time spent with his father before Clarice took him home.

     Johnny turned to face the young man who had turned fifteen just a week ago, on May fourteenth. The past year had brought about a growth spurt in the teenager that meant Trevor and his father were now within four inches of being able to look one another in the eye. Johnny estimated that Trevor would be two or three inches taller than him by the time Trev reached his full height.  But regardless of that, Johnny was still his father, and always would be.  Lately, Trev needed to be reminded of that on a frequent basis.

     “Trevor, you might as well get used to the fact that life isn’t always fair, and you don’t always get to do everything you want to, regardless of whether you’re fifteen years old, or sixty years old.”

     The teenager scowled. He gave an angry swipe at the thick, dark bangs that had fallen into his eyes.  “I just don’t understand why you won’t let me go.”

     “I’ve already told you why I won’t let you go.  I’ve told several times in the last couple of weeks. Nagging me about it isn’t gonna change my answer.”

     “But all my friends—“

     Johnny held up a hand. “Yeah, I know.  All your friends are going.  So you’ve told me more than once. However, the answer is still no.”

     “It’s just a concert. I don’t see why—“

     “I’ve told you why.”

     “But your reason is stupid!”

     Johnny pointed a stern finger under the boy’s noise.  “Trevor Roy, you’d better remember who you’re talking to.”

     “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

     “You don’t sound like you’re sorry.”

     “I just want to know why you won’t—“

     “Trevor, for the tenth time in ten days, here’s the rundown.  I’m not gonna let you go to Anchorage in a vehicle with nine other kids, that includes a driver who has only had his license for two months, see a concert, and then stay in a hotel and not return until the next day.”

     “But why? And don’t tell me, ‘because I said so.’”

     “Okay,” Johnny said as he held up three fingers and began counting off. “Here are three reasons right off the top of my head.  One; no sixteen-year-old who has had his license for just two months has any business hauling a car full of kids five hundred miles.”

     “He’s not using a car.  He’s using his parents’ mini-van.”

     Johnny just glared at his son for that remark before continuing.

“I’ve been on the scene of too many accidents over the last thirty-six years not to know what can happen when you mix an inexperienced driver and his friends. He can lose his concentration, and the next thing you know—“

     “Connor’s a good driver.  He—“

     Johnny scowled.  “How do you know Connor’s a good driver?”

     “Uh...I just do.  That’s all.”

     “You’re better not have been riding with him. I told you you’re not to accept a ride from Connor until he’s got more time behind the wheel.”

     “I didn’t,” Trevor lied, while at the same time thankful that no one in this small hamlet of Eagle Harbor had seen him riding in Connor’s pickup truck after school the previous Wednesday.  Or at least if anyone had, that person evidently hadn’t said anything to his father about it.

     Although Johnny suspected his son was lying to him, he let it pass for now.  As his father had always said, eventually you’ll catch the pig at the trough. Yes, it was an old-fashioned expression for the current times, but where teenage boys were concerned, it still held true.

     “Reason two. I don’t like the message that group you want to see sends, so—“

     “Pops! You’re so old-fashioned.”

     “Trevor, a basic sense of what’s decent isn’t old-fashioned. You don’t even like their music.  You just wanna go because you’re friends are going.”

     “I do too like their music!”

     Johnny wasn’t going to debate that issue as he held up three fingers now. “And three, at your age, you have no business getting a hotel room for the night with a group that includes girls.”

     “But the girls are gonna sleep in the two beds, and us guys are gonna bring sleeping bags and bunk on the floor.”

     “I don’t care what the sleeping arrangements are. The answer is no, and I can’t believe the parents of those girls are gonna allow this.”

     “Well, they are, because they’re cool.  They’re not old and strict like you!”

     “Trev—“

     “I’m only saying what’s true.”

     “That I’m old and not cool?”

     “Yeah.”

     Johnny had to hide his smile. God knew there had been a time in his life when he never imagined himself being ‘old’ and ‘not cool’ in anyone’s eyes.  But, the fact of the matter was, he was sixty-years-old and raising a fifteen-year-old son.  Until recently, Johnny hadn’t felt his age, and his son hadn’t seemed to notice.  But now, on many days, Johnny felt every one of his sixty years, thanks to the trials and tribulations given him by his teenager.

     “Okay, so I’m old and not cool.”

     “And strict.”

     “Thank you.”

     “What?”

     Johnny grinned.  “You can’t give me a better compliment as your father than to accuse me of being strict.”

     Trevor balled his hands into fists and pounded them against his thighs.  “You make me so mad sometimes.”

     “I realize that, and I’m sorry. But the answer to this trip to Anchorage, as you now have it arranged, is still no, and will continue to be no.”

     “Then how can I arrange it so you say yes?”

     “If I take you there—“

     “No way!”

     “Just hear me out.  If I take you there, drop you off, and pick you up when the concert is over, then I’ll consider it.”

     “But it’ll be way too long of a drive to come back home that night.”

     “We can stay at the hotel you were talking about.  Talk to the girls about getting a room of their own, and then us guys can—“

     “No!” Trevor shook his head as though he couldn’t imagine a greater horror. “You can’t come with me! No one else’s parents are coming.”

     In contrast to his son’s shouts, Johnny’s voice was calm and even-toned.  “Look, I’ve given you a reasonable alternative, despite the fact that I don’t think you have any business paying to see a concert put on by that group anyway. I can drive you there, you can meet your friends, and then I’ll pick you up when the concert is over. Or, some of the kids can ride with you and me, and Connor can follow us in the mini-van with the rest of the kids.  We can book two rooms at the hotel, guys in one room, girls in the other.”

     “They’ll laugh at me.”

     “Who will laugh at you?”

     “My friends. Everything’s co-ed now. Sleepovers and stuff like that. Nothing’s going to happen.”

     “Trevor, I will not have my fifteen-year-old son shacking up in a hotel room with four girls.”

     The teenager was furious at what he viewed as his father’s attempt to thwart his social life.  As he yanked the door open he asked,  “Like you shacked up with my mother, you mean?”

     “Trev—“

     The boy slammed the door so hard that the pane of glass it contained rattled in its frame.  Johnny watched through the window that faced the rear parking lot. Trevor jerked his shoulders into the backpack he’d left looped over the handles of his twelve-speed, hopped on the mountain bike, and furiously peddled toward home.

     Johnny sighed as he walked around the desk and sank into his big leather chair. He glanced up at the pictures of his son he had on one row of shelves.  His eyes landed on a photograph the police chief, Carl Mjtko, had taken the previous summer at the town picnic.  Johnny was seated on a bench. On impulse, Trevor had come up behind him, bent down so their faces were even with one another, and wrapped an arm around Johnny’s shoulders.  It was that moment, when Johnny and Trevor were wearing twin grins, that the picture was snapped.  Raising Trevor had still been so easy then, just ten short months ago.  Until recently, Trevor had never given Johnny any problems, and the worst that could be said about him was that he was an active boy filled with a curiosity about the world that sometimes caused his common sense to take a backseat.  But then, Johnny had been the same as a child, and as a young man well into his twenties. Therefore, he was confident that given time and maturity, Trevor’s common sense would eventually begin to assert itself.

     Johnny’s eyes scanned the other pictures that covered Trevor’s life from infancy right up to the most recent school picture that had been taken in the fall of 2006, Trevor’s freshman year at Eagle Harbor High School.  He sighed again when his mind replayed the argument that had just occurred. The burden of raising a teenager alone was, at times, a heavy one to bear.  Much heavier than Johnny had ever imagined it would be.  And here he’d thought the difficult years of single parenting – the years that included middle of the night bottle feedings and diaper changes, the years that included the Terrible Twos and potty training, the years that included skinned knees, tonsillitis, and ear infections, were behind him.  Only now was John Gage beginning to discover that those years had been easy, and that the difficult years were just beginning.

     Johnny raked a hand through his thick hair that had recently begun to gray beyond his temples.  If he looked in a mirror he knew he’d see fine lines around his eyes and mouth, and the beginning of some wrinkles taking up residence in his neck.

     “What the hell was I thinking, becoming a father at forty-five?” the fire chief questioned while recalling the ridiculous argument he’d just engaged in with a son four and a half decades his junior.  “I’m too damn old for this shit.  Too damn old to be fighting with a teenager over a stupid rock concert.” 

     The man stood when he heard voices out in the hallway as people passed his office. He did his best to smile when several men gave him a wave through the glass and a, “Hi, Chief.” It was almost time for the Police and Fire Commission meeting to start in the conference room at the other end of the building.  A meeting that would contain men all near his own age, whose kids were long grown, and who, like his good friend Roy DeSoto, were grandfathers several times over by now.

     “I’m just too damn old,” Johnny mumbled.

The fire chief was reminded of that fact all the more as he slipped on his reading glasses and exited the office, while limping slightly because the leg he’d broken when he was hit by that car thirty-three years ago sometimes bothered him. Johnny had laughed at Joe Early when the doctor had warned him that someday, when he was older, the leg might give him trouble on occasion.  Not that he hadn’t believed the man, but it was just that, at the age of twenty-seven, Johnny couldn’t imagine reaching the point in life when an old injury would come back to haunt him. 

I wish Doctor Early had warned me about potential problems with teenagers back then, Johnny thought as the entered the conference room and took his place at the head of the table.  He resisted the urge to smile over the last thought that came to him right before he called the meeting to order.

Aw, hell, I probably wouldn’t have listened to him anyway.

____________________

     Trevor was in his father’s home office. He sat in the desk’s chair with it turned facing the sidearm that held the computer. This was another thing that ticked him off.  All his friends had computers in their bedrooms, and most of them had TV sets in their rooms, too, and several had phones with their own private lines.  But his father wouldn’t allow Trevor any of those privileges, not even when Trevor said he’d pay for those things with his own money.  Pops had still said no, and then said if Trevor had those he’d be “holed up in his room away from the family.”  Trev knew he’d hurt his father a lot that night a few weeks ago when he’d yelled, “What family?  It’s just you and me! There’s not a family here,” but he’d never apologized for his words, and like a lot of things between himself and his father lately, the angry words hung heavy in the air for several days before the Gage men moved onto a new argument.

     Trevor logged onto the Internet.  He could hear Clarice working in the kitchen, preparing supper for himself and his father. Despite the fact that she was now seventy-four years old, she still came to the Gage household several days a week to clean, cook, and do laundry, and she was always there when Trevor arrived home from school on the days his father worked. When Johnny pulled an overnight shift, Clarice used the bedroom that was considered hers when needed, that was situated in a hallway behind the dining room.  Trevor thought of Clarice as a beloved grandmother and would never say anything to hurt her, but sometimes he resented her presence.  He was old enough to stay by himself now when his father was at work, but that was another issue Pops wasn’t giving in on. 

     “Clarice would be here when you got home from school if she was your mother,” Pops had said.

     “But she’s not my mother,” Trevor pointed out in return. “She’s not my mother, and I’m old enough to be here by myself.”

     “Sometimes you are here by yourself,” his father had reminded him. “But for the most part, I feel better knowing Clarice and you are here together keeping one another company while I’m at work.”

     “What if I don’t want company?” Trevor had challenged.

     “Then at those times go to your room and shut the door,” Pops had snapped back in a tone that told Trevor to cool it and keep his smart mouth to himself.

     After Trevor logged into his e-mail account he watched as the messages downloaded.  He had one from Kylee, a girl he went to school with that he liked a lot. Trevor was pretty sure Kylee liked him a lot too, though when he told her he couldn’t go the concert she’d probably lose interest in him in favor of some guy whose father wasn’t so old and strict. 

     The next e-mail was from Connor. Trevor didn’t open it, just like he didn’t open Kylee’s. He knew all they’d be talking about was the Memorial Day weekend trip to Anchorage, and Connor probably wanted Trevor to meet him in a chat room later that night to discuss it.  Trevor didn’t know when or how he was going to break the news to his friends that he couldn’t go, so for the time being he ignored their messages.     

     The last e-mail that had come while he was at school was from Trevor’s mother.  He smiled as he opened it.  Until this winter, Trevor hadn’t thought too much about his mother one way or another.  Yes, he loved her, but his father was his custodial parent, and his visits with his mother, who lived in New York City, encompassed only two weeks out of each year.  It had only been since January that Trevor had begun to really get to know his mom through e-mail communications and phone calls – both things becoming more frequent than they had been in the past.  Part of this came from Trevor’s increasing desire to get to know the woman who had given birth to him on a deeper level than what he previously had, and part of this new-found desire to connect with his mom came from the rift growing between himself and his father. 

     Mom’s e-mail was filled with chatty news about her job as a cardiac surgeon, about Trevor’s stepfather, Franklin, and about the three-year-old sister Trevor now had, that Mom and Franklin had adopted when Catherine, as they had named her, was just four days old. The adoption had shocked and angered Trevor’s father for reasons Trevor didn’t know, and Pops refused to reveal.  But Trevor had seen the look on his father’s face when he’d rushed to greet him with an excited, “Papa, I have a new sister!” when his pops had arrived home from work on the day three years earlier that Mom had called to tell Trevor he was a big brother.  A few days later, Trevor had overheard a small portion of a conversation his father and Clarice were having about Catherine.  To this day Trevor still didn’t know why his father had been upset over his mother adopting a child, nor did he know what his father meant when he’d said to Clarice, “She didn’t want that responsibility before. I don’t understand why things are suddenly so different. What’s the deal?  Because it’s now fashionable for wealthy women pushing fifty to have an infant, she had to go out and get herself one?”

A then twelve-year-old Trevor had slipped out the back door without his father or Clarice seeing him.  Based on his father’s words, he’d come to the conclusion that his mother must have thought of adopting a child in the past, but had changed her mind for some reason.  His years as Eagle Harbor’s fire and paramedic chief had made Pops big on responsibility, so Trevor assumed his father was judging his mother based on those criteria.

     Trevor’s mother had included more links for colleges in the New England area.  He hadn’t told his father yet that he was thinking of attending college out east, and for now there was no reason to.  He still had three years of high school left to finish.  A discussion about college locations could wait at least

another year. Franklin and Mom were even going to pay for his college education if he attended school on the east coast, though Trevor hadn’t told his father that yet, either.  He had a feeling Pops wouldn’t be too happy about it, and the teenager couldn’t understand why. Franklin and Mom earned an income that easily enabled them to pay for his college education, while for his father it would be more of a financial burden.  But, Pops had a lot of pride that way, and Trevor knew his father had been saving for his college education since the day he’d been born, so again, it was a discussion best saved for the future.  Maybe a discussion his father and mother needed to have face to face, rather than Trevor having to talk to his father about it without his mother’s support.

     The teenager read his mother’s e-mail through a second time, but didn’t send her a reply.  He’d do that later.  For now, he chose to send an e-mail to the one person who’d grown to become his closest friend and confidante.  The one person he could tell all of his problems to while having faith she’d understand, in the same way she had faith that he understood all of her problems. As they navigated their teen years, he without a mother in his home and she without a father in hers, they’d found their friendship had grown even stronger than it had been when they were playmates.

____________________

Hi Libby,

     How are things going? School will be out in three weeks here. Do you get that job you applied for at the Gap?

     Sometimes I hate my pops. He really made me mad today.  He won’t let me go to the Boys in Bondage concert in Anchorage with my friends. They’re going to think I’m a total dorko and baby when I tell them.  He’s so old fashioned.  I wish Pops were younger like my friends’ parents, and like your mom.  He’d understand better what it’s like to be a teenager if he was.  He worries about such dumb stuff that’s never going to happen, like a car accident, just because my friend Connor is going to drive. No matter what I say, Pops won’t listen.  I hate it when he gets like that.

Talk to you later.

Trevor

P.S. I guess I don’t really hate Pops, but he sure pisses me off sometimes.

Chapter 2

     As was her habit, Clarice left for the house she shared with her son in town when Johnny arrived home at six-thirty that night.  Johnny and Trevor sat down at the kitchen table to eat supper at quarter to seven. The light and easy conversations that had normally been a part of each meal father and son shared were now oftentimes strained, depending on what had transpired between the two during the day.  Based on the cold shoulder Johnny was getting from his son as they filled their plates, he had this meal’s conversation pegged as ‘strained’ before it even started.

     “So, how was your day?” Johnny asked after he’d swallowed his first mouthful of lasagna.

     Trevor’s eyes never left his plate.  “Fine, until I stopped to see you.”

     Johnny refused to rise to the bait.

     “Did you feed the animals?”

     “What do you think?”

     “That tone of voice is gonna get you in big trouble with me before this day is over, young man, if it doesn’t change and change pretty darn quick.“

     Trevor hazarded a glance at his father and saw the rising fury shining from Johnny’s eyes.

     “I just meant that you ask me that question every night and the answer is always yes, so why do you have to keep asking me like I’m some kinda little kid who doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do?”

     “I realize that you know what to do—“

     “Then why do you keep treating me like a baby by asking me that night after night?”

     “Trev, I’m not treating you like a baby.”

     “Yes, you are.  You think you can somehow keep a little kid forever. Keep me your little boy forever.  Well, I’m not your little boy anymore, Pops.”

     “No, you’re not a little boy anymore, but you’re still my son.”

     “I know that, but I wish you’d treat me like I’m fifteen, instead of like I’m five.”

     “I think I do.”

     “Well, I don’t!”

     “In what way don’t I treat you like your fifteen?”

     “You’re always checkin’ up on me, asking me if I’ve done the chores, or my homework, or made my bed. You still have Clarice come here every day after school to baby-sit me, and you won’t let me go to Anchorage with my—“

     Johnny pointed the tines of his fork at his son. “Don’t start that again.”

     “But—“

     “Trev, for both of our sakes, drop it.”

     “Okay, fine!”  Trevor threw silverware onto the table and pushed his chair away from the table.  “Fine.  I’m dropping it.”

     “Sit down and finish eating.”

     “I’m not hungry.”

     “Sit down and finish eating.”

     “I already said I’m not—“

     “Trevor, if I have to get up out of this chair you’re not gonna to like the consequences.”

     Trevor studied his father, attempting to gauge just what the man meant by that.  His father had only used spanking as a form of punishment on rare occasions, and at that, Trevor hadn’t felt Johnny’s hand on his rear-end since he was ten years old.  He didn’t think his father would employ that method of punishment now, but something about the way his father’s mouth was set in a grim line made Trevor sit back down.

     Johnny’s, “Thank you,” received no response from his sullen teenager.

     The only sounds throughout the remainder of the meal came when Trevor’s fork would smack his plate as he stabbed at his food. It wasn’t until father and son rose to clear the dishes that Johnny attempted to start a conversation again.

     “You have a track meet after school tomorrow, right?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Okay, I’ll be there about three-thirty then.”

     “You don’t have to come.”

     “I always come to your track meets.  And besides, I want to.”

     “You don’t have to.”

     “Son—“

     “Pops, I don’t want you there tomorrow, okay? I just...I don’t want you there this time.”

     Trevor deposited the plates on the counter and headed for the stairs that would take him to his bedroom. He wasn’t leaving the kitchen because he was angry with his father.  He was leaving because he couldn’t stand to see the hurt he’d just caused to appear on the man’s face.

____________________

     Trevor was in his room with his door closed when the phone rang at eight-thirty that night.  Johnny aimed the remote control at the television and hit the mute button. The cessation of sound allowed him to hear the music coming from overhead.  Trevor had a Boys in Bondage CD in his stereo. Johnny knew that CD didn’t belong to his son, and had likely been borrowed from Connor.  He also knew it had been put in as a display of defiance.  He sighed as he picked up the phone, fully expecting the caller to be one of Trevor’s friends.  Rather than that being the case, however, the caller was instead, John Gage’s oldest friend, and the one to whom he was closest, despite the miles that separated them.

     “Hi, Johnny.”

     Johnny smiled. “Hey, Roy.”

     The men spent a few minutes catching up with one another since the last time they’d talked a month earlier, and then shot the bull about their respective jobs.  Roy was still serving as a paramedic instructor for the Los Angeles Fire Department, though the hours the job required meant that he considered himself semi-retired.

     “So, are you about ready to pack it in for good and retire after this session ends, Pally?” Johnny asked, knowing that Roy has been mulling over that possibility since January.

     “No. Decided to stick it out another year.”

     “Oh really? Why?”

     “Since Libby has one more year of high school left, Joanne and I wanna be available when Jennifer needs us.  We figure there’s no use in either one of us retiring until next summer. But after that, we’ll be ready to quit our jobs and do some traveling.  The day after Libby graduates next June, I plan to be headed your way for a nice long tour of Alaska.”

     “Sounds great. You and Jo can make this your home base while you’re here. Stay as long as you’d like.  I’ve got plenty of room.”

     “Thanks.  We’ll take you up on that.  It’s been a long time coming.”

     “Yeah, it has been,” Johnny agreed. “You deserve to enjoy the life leisure.”

     Just like Johnny was the father to a teenager, in many ways Roy was a father to his granddaughter, Olivia, who would turn seventeen in June. Like Trevor, Libby was now old enough to be left home alone, but on nights that her mother was on duty at Rampart Hospital, or when her mother worked the weekend shift, she stayed with Roy and Joanne.  Although Roy and Joanne’s assistance with raising Libby had diminished to a degree once she’d entered high school, they were still very involved in her life.

     “I’m ready for the life of leisure,” Roy said with a chuckle.  “I sure hope that come this time next year, I’ve raised my last teenager.”

     “Tell me about it.”

     Roy’s comment had been made half in jest.  Overall, Libby had given him few challenges. Granted, he didn’t like her taste in music and television shows, and he thought some of her clothes looked downright silly, but she was a good student who was involved in numerous school and church activities.  She had her head on straight, and had made wise and mature decisions as she’d navigated her way through her high school years. 

     “What’s wrong?” Roy had picked up on the tone in Johnny’s voice that told him something was bothering the man. “Is everything all right with Trevor?”

     “Depends on the moment.”

     “Whatta ya’ mean?”

     Like he had done when they worked together thirty-five years ago, Johnny poured his problems with Trevor out to Roy in one long spiel that caused Roy to wonder if he’d even stopped to take a breath. And, just like thirty-fives ago, Roy was able to calm his friend with some quiet, levelheaded advice.

     “You gotta pick your battles, Junior.”

     “Huh?”

     “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from raising three teenagers, four if you count Libby, is that you have to pick your battles. Trevor’s just yearning for some independence. You know - wants the opportunity to separate himself from you in an effort discover who he is.”

     “I understand that.  I just don’t think this independence needs to take place on a five hundred mile ride to Anchorage with an inexperienced driver and nine other kids.”

     “I agree with you on that one.”

     “Glad to hear it.  Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get my son to agree with me on it.”

     “And you probably won’t.”

     “So that means I have to put up with him bein’ pissed at me over this for the next six months?”

     “No,” Roy chuckled. “It means that in a week Trevor will have forgotten all about this battle with you, because he’ll have picked a new one.”

     “Oh, that’s real comforting,” Johnny said in a dry tone that was a cross between mock long suffering, and very real long suffering.

     “Hang in there, Johnny,” Roy said right before the two men hung up the phone that night. “You’ve come this far with Trevor and done a great job of raising him.  You’ll do fine getting him to eighteen.”

     I hope you’re right on that one, Roy, Johnny thought as he said goodbye to his friend and disconnected the call.

____________________

     Johnny had shut the television off after he’d hung up the phone, and then made the rounds of the main floor of the house. He made sure the doors were locked, and extinguished lights as he traveled from room to room.  It was only ten minutes after nine, but he was tired.  

     When the fire chief reached the top of the stairs he turned left and walked the few steps it took him to reach his son’s room.  He knocked on Trevor’s door, then knocked louder when he realized the music was drowning out all sound. 

     The stereo was switched off and Trevor called, “Yeah?”

     “Can I come in?”

     There was a moment of hesitation, then a, “If you wanna.”

     Johnny entered the room that had been transformed from a little boy’s domain, to a young man’s two years earlier.  Gone was the mural depicting a sled dog race that had traveled the pale blue walls, to be replaced with a mural depicting airplanes ranging from a World War I Albatros, to a World War II Hellcat, to a B-52 bomber from the Vietnam era, to a modern day Stealth bomber, to other planes Johnny couldn’t identify by name.  Whether Trevor’s interest in flying had begun that day seven years ago when he’d stowed away to California on Gus Zimmerman’s plane, or whether it began two years ago when Gus had hired him to help around his small airport, Johnny wasn’t certain.  But Trevor’s interest in planes and flying had been ignited at some point, and now, among other dreams, he hoped to get his pilot’s license some day.

     Johnny thought about what Roy had told him in regards to picking his battles, and Trevor having reached an age where he was yearning for some independence.  Johnny thought he’d given in on two issues already in the past year – a desk in this room, meaning Trevor no longer did his homework in the study nook Johnny had set up for him on the balcony when he’d started kindergarten, and a stereo in here as well. 

     Maybe I am old fashioned, the fire chief thought as he sat on the edge of his son’s bed. He knew Trevor wasn’t lying to him when he said a lot of kids his age had TVs DVD players, computers, and phones in their rooms. But is there anything wrong with me not wanting my teenager to isolate himself in his room to the point that I never see him, or don’t know what he’s up to or who he’s talking to?

     Tonight Trevor didn’t lobby for any of those items he knew his father wasn’t going to allow him to have.  He simply sat at his desk with his back to Johnny while he finished his homework.  Johnny contemplated asking the teenager how he could concentrate on his school work with the music cranked up as high as it had been, but was forced to recall how much he’d hated it when his own father used to ask him the same thing.  Of course, back in 1962, the only thing Johnny had to crank up was a transistor radio, and the music coming from it wasn’t offensive, though the fire chief was forced to admit his father had considered Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis to be just that.

     For now, Johnny kept his opinions on Trevor’s choice in music to himself. 

     “Almost done with your homework?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Did Mr. Dreshon return the history test you took the other day?”

     “Yeah.”

     “What’d you get on it?”

     “An A.”

     “Good for you,” Johnny praised.  “I’m really proud of you, Trev. You’ve done really well this year.”

     Still with his back to his father, Trevor shrugged his right shoulder.  “I’ve always gotten good grades. It’s no big deal.”

     “Yes, it is.  And considering it’s not always easy to make the transition from grade school to high school, I want you to know how happy I am with how well you’ve done this past year.”

     “Thanks. You keep telling me if I wanna be a doctor I have to get the best grades I can.”

     Johnny nodded, though Trevor didn’t see that movement. Whether Trevor would eventually become a doctor, Johnny couldn’t guess at this point.  They’d been on a camping trip two years earlier by Salmon Bay, a remote area of Alaska that bordered the Bering Sea. They’d been a long way from home, and during their travels, many miles had passed between towns.  They’d met a young doctor by the name of Brian Walters on that trip, who was camping as well. He’d shared the Gage campfire on several nights, and once he’d found out Johnny was a paramedic, the two men discovered conversation between them flowed easily.  Trevor had been fascinated to discover that the thirty-three year old man was the type of doctor he’d only heard his father speak of when telling him about his great grandfather, John Hamilton. Great Grandpa Hamilton had been a physician who made house calls in and around the town of White Rock, Montana, where Trevor’s father had grown up.  When Trevor had first heard Johnny use the term ‘house call’ he’d had to ask his father what the phrase meant.  He’d only been eight years old then, but once he understood the definition, he thought it sounded like a neat way to take care of people who were sick.  His father had smiled at him and agreed that it was a neat way for a doctor to take care of his patients, but one that had largely gone out of fashion by the time the 1960s arrived, and by the turn of the new century, was rarely heard of.

     After meeting Doctor Walters, and hearing how he had an office in the tiny hamlet of St. George, and sometimes traveled for miles and miles to treat people who otherwise would have no medical care, Trevor knew that’s what he wanted to do with his life.

     “And after I learn how to fly, Papa, I could buy a Cessna and fly to see some of my patients who live real far from town,” thirteen-year-old Trevor had said several times throughout the trip home. Johnny had agreed that it was a possibility, and had also agreed that Doctor Walters was correct when he’d said Alaska, where approximately three hundred thousand residents lived in the remote towns and rural areas of the central and northern regions, could use more doctors who were willing to set up small practices and make house calls. “Granted, you don’t get rich practicing medicine this way,” Doctor Walters had said, “but in terms of personal rewards...well, I’ll sacrifice money any day in order to be my own man and not be controlled by an HMO, a hospital board of directors, or any of that other nonsense.”

Trevor and Doctor Walters had exchanged e-mail addresses on that camping trip and had since become faithful correspondents.  As Brian told Trevor more and more about what it was like to be a doctor in the isolated northern portion of the state, Trevor’s interest in the profession grew.

     “Good grades will be important for getting accepted into a university, and then later, medical school,” Johnny said now in reference to his son’s comment. “Plus, those good grades will help you earn some scholarships.  We’re going to need all of those we can get if you do decide to become a doctor.”

     “Don’t worry about that.  Mom and Franklin are gonna...”

     Remembering that he didn’t want to have this discussion with his father, Trevor let his sentence die off.

     “Your mother and Franklin are gonna what?”

     “Nothing,” Trevor said as he shut his biology book and turned sideways in his chair so he could see his father.  “Never mind.”

     Johnny didn’t press his son on the issue, but instead, used the mention of Trevor’s mother Ashton to his advantage.

     “You said something today that we need to talk about.” 

     “The track meet.  Yeah, I know. If you wanna be there, then that’s okay.”

“No, not the track meet. Though, yes, I wanna be there. What we need to talk about is the comment you made regarding me shacking up with your mother.”

Trevor’s eyes dropped to the bright blue carpeting that lined his floor. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said it.”

     “Whether you should have said it or not is beside the point. You did, and I think we need to discuss it.”

     “No, we don’t.”

     “Yes, we do,” Johnny insisted. “You asked me for a privilege today that I wouldn’t say yes to, and that privilege included spending the night in a hotel room with four girls.”

Trevor blushed and risked a glance at his father. “Pops, nothing is gonna happen.  We’re just gonna crash for the night.”

“I understand that’s your intention. Whether that’s all that will happen or not, you won’t be finding out, because I haven’t changed my mind.”

“That figures,” the boy mumbled.

Johnny ignored the remark. “You can’t compare the choice your mother and I made, to what you want to do with your friends.  I was thirty-nine and your mother was thirty when we moved in together. As you know, I had already been married once many years before that.  Be it right or wrong, your mother and I were old enough, and mature enough, to make the decision we did.  I never considered it ‘shacking up,’ Trevor.  That phrase cheapens what we had together, and what we meant to one another.”

Silence lingered in the room a long moment as the boy returned to staring at the carpeting.  When he finally spoke it was to ask, “How come you didn’t marry her?”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah.” Trevor made eye contact with his father once again. “How come you never married her? How come you just went on living with her until...well, until we moved here?”    

Over the past few months Trevor had begun to ask more and more questions about Ashton, and about Johnny’s relationship with her.  Johnny knew this was simply another part of the growing up process for his son.  He was trying to discover who he was and where he’d come from, and part of discovering that meant learning more about the mother he’d seen only two weeks out of each year since he was three years old.  For the most part, Johnny had always given Trevor honest answers to his questions.  However, there were two things Trevor didn’t know, and as far as Johnny was concerned, never would.  Trevor didn’t know that on the day he was born, his mother placed him in his father’s arms and said, “Here. He's yours. You wanted him, you raise him.”  And, because Trevor didn’t know that, he also didn’t know that his mother hadn’t lived with them during the first year of his life, prior to his father taking the job of Eagle Harbor’s fire and paramedic chief in May of 1993.

“How come, Pops?”  Trevor asked now, his voice bringing Johnny out of his thoughts. “How come you never married Mom?”

“It wasn’t gonna work out,” was all Johnny said.

“Did you even ask her?”

Yes, I did, were Johnny’s unvoiced words. I asked her more times than I can remember.

“Trevor, it just wasn’t gonna work out,” Johnny said.

“For her?” the boy scowled. “Or for you?”

Johnny understood that it was easy for Trevor to make a martyr of the woman he rarely saw, and who spoiled him with money and gifts throughout the year. The woman who never had to discipline him, or tell him no, he couldn’t go to a rock concert with his friends.  He understood it, but nonetheless his son’s shifting loyalties still hurt him.

The man refused to be drawn into an argument. It was getting late and he was tired.  And besides, no matter what Trevor might say, or how angry he might make his father, Johnny wasn’t going to reveal to the teenager that it was his mother who didn’t want to get married, and that it was his mother who had no desire to raise him.

Trevor turned away when Johnny stood up, crossed the few feet that separated them, and kissed the top of his head.

“Good night, son.”

The fire chief didn’t get a “good night,” in return, but then, given Trevor’s mood, that fact didn’t surprise him.

____________________

Hi Libby,

     Congrats. on getting the job at the Gap.  That’s cool that you’ll get a discount on clothes.  I’m going to be working for Sebastian this summer.  He’s Clarice’s nephew.  He has a fishing boat and always hires on a big crew for June, July, and August.  On Saturday and Sunday, I’ll still work at the airport for Gus like I have the last couple of summers. Gus and Sebastian both are letting me have three weeks off because of the week in July I’ll be in California with Pops visiting you guys, and then the two weeks after that when I’ll be with my mom in New York.

     Tonight I asked Pops why he never married my mom.  He gave me some lame answer about how it wasn’t going to work out.  How could he know whether or not it was going to work out if he never even asked her to marry him?  You know what I think?  I think Pops didn’t want to get married, and when my mom started putting pressure on him, he left her and took me with him. I wish they had gotten married.  It’s all Pops’ fault that I don’t know Mom better than I do.

Trevor 

Chapter 3

“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” 

“I wish I was, but I’m not,” Trevor replied. “He said I can’t go.”

Connor slammed his locker door shut and slumped against it.  “I can’t believe this.  Why won’t he let you go?”

“He’s says it’s too far for me to ride with you since you’ve only had your license a couple of months.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. It’s just something he’s hung up about.  Plus, the girl thing.”

“What about the girls?”

“He won’t let me sleep in the same room with them.”

“Did you tell him that’s how it’s done these days? That all the sleepovers and stuff we get invited to are co-ed? Did you tell him nothin’ is gonna happen?”

“Yeah, I told him all that,” Trevor said as he grabbed the textbook and folder he’d need for his next class.  “He wouldn’t listen.”

“If you talk to him again, tell him my parents are okay with all this, maybe he’ll let you go. Do you think?”

“Trust me on this one, Connor,” Trevor said to his blond- headed friend.  “He’s not gonna let me go.”

“There’s no chance of gettin’ him to change his mind at all?”

“No.”

“Man, Trev, that’s for shit.  You know what the problem is with your pops, don’t you?”

“No, what?”

“He’s so damn old he doesn’t remember what it’s like to be a teenager.”

“Tell me about it,” Trevor agreed as the bell rang that signaled he and Connor had three minutes to arrive at their next class.

“Maybe if my pops talks to your pops he’ll let you go.”

As the two boys walked down the hall together Trevor said, “Connor, think about it.  Your father is young enough to be my father’s son.  Do you really think he’ll stand a chance convincing my pops to let me go?”

“You know, I never thought of that.  My pops is young enough to be your pop’s son, isn’t he?”

Trevor knew Connor’s father, Dave, was thirty-eight.  Given the fact that his father was sixty, it didn’t take a mathematician to know John Gage could be Dave Gable’s father.

“Yeah, he is,” Trevor answered.

“Holy shit, Gage.  Your father is old.”

“Believe me, I know,” Trevor agreed right before he and Connor entered the room where their history class was held.

____________________

John Gage had spent his day off cleaning horse stalls in his small barn, tending to the animals, and doing some paperwork he’d brought home from the fire station with him the previous evening.  He left his house shortly after three so he could be sitting in the bleachers when Trevor’s track meet started at three-thirty.

As was normal, Johnny was kept busy during the meet conversing with the parents of Trevor’s classmates who were seated around him.  There wasn’t a person in Eagle Harbor who didn’t know John Gage, and many of them were members of his volunteer squad that was made up of firefighters and EMT’s who held paying jobs in other industries.  When the track meet was over, Johnny waited while Trevor showered and changed clothes. When Trevor appeared carrying his backpack and a gym bag with his dirty track uniform, Johnny excused himself from the people he’d been talking to.  He put an arm around Trevor’s shoulder as they walked to the Land Rover, and congratulated his son on winning the two events he’d competed in. Johnny suggested they eat at supper at the Northern Lights Restaurant before going home, and as was normal for a teenage boy with an appetite the size of Trevor’s, the young man didn’t object.

The tension that had existed between the father and his son the previous day was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Johnny again thought of Roy’s words, and realized Trevor’s upset over the concert was evidently a thing of the past now.  He also remembered Roy’s prediction that Trevor would soon pick another battle to wage, and hoped that didn’t come to pass. Or at least not too soon.

That night Trevor did his homework with the absence of music playing. When he was finished, he joined his father in the great room where they watched a movie.  After the movie ended the Gage men went to the kitchen for a bedtime snack. Trevor dished ice cream into bowls while Johnny washed and sliced strawberries.  He sprinkled the fruit over the ice cream. While Trevor got spoons, Johnny carried the bowls to the table.

     When John was down to his last spoonful, Trevor asked, “Pops, if Kim was alive do you think you’d still be married to her?”

     Johnny took his time in finishing off his dessert. Trevor’s question had caught him by surprise, and he didn’t have a ready answer for the boy.  Trevor knew his father’s wife, Kim, and their daughter, Jessie, had been murdered in April of 1967, forty years ago now.  When Trevor was a little boy he would occasionally ask questions about the woman and child in the picture Johnny kept on the dresser in his bedroom.  But as he had grown older and sensed that, even after all the years that had passed, this was a difficult subject for his father to discuss, Trevor had ceased to express curiosity about Kim and Jessie.

     “Pops?”

     “That’s a hard question for me to answer, Trev. Kim’s been gone a long time now.”

     “I know.  But I was just wondering if you think you’d still be married to her. You know, if your commitment to her would have lasted..how many years would you be married now if she was alive?”

     “Forty two. Getting close to forty three, actually.”

     “That’s a long time.”

     “Yes, it is,” Johnny agreed as he picked up his son’s empty dish and walked it and his own bowl to the dishwasher.

     “So, do you think you’d still be married to her?”

     “Like I said, that’s a hard question to answer.  In many ways I’d like to think Kim and I would still be married, but there’s one drawback to that.”

     “What?”

     Johnny turned and smiled at his son as he shut the door on the dishwasher.

     “You wouldn’t be here.”

     It took Trevor a moment to understand that his father meant the genetics that had created Trevor via Johnny and Ashton, wouldn’t have existed between Johnny and Kim.  

     “Oh, you mean because of my mom. Because Mom’s my mom, and Kim wouldn’t have been my mom.  I mean, I guess I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t...you know, had me with my mom.”

     “Right.”

     As Trevor stood and waited while his father shut out the kitchen light he asked, “But if you think that after forty two years you’d still be married to Kim, how come you didn’t marry my mom? You must think marriage is okay. You don’t have anything against it, right?”

     “I never said marriage wasn’t okay. And no, I don’t have anything against it.”

     “Then how come—-“

     “Trev, it’s after ten and time for us to call it a night.”

     “But I just wanna know how come-—“

     “I told you last night that it wasn’t going to work out.  That’s the only answer I can give you.”

     “It’s the only answer you wanna give me, you mean.”

     “No. It’s the only answer I can give you.”

     “I think it’s just an excuse.”

     “You’re welcome to think whatever you want to.”

     “I hate it when you give me an answer like that,” the teenager scowled, “because if you haven’t figured it out yet, that’s no answer at all.”

     The pleasant day Johnny had just enjoyed with his son came to an end when Trevor charged up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut. 

     Johnny shook his head as he headed up the stairs at a slower pace than his son had just used. 

     If I survive these teen years of my son’s it’ll be a damn miracle.  It will truly be a miracle.

     Chapter 4

As quickly as the latest teenage storm blew in, it blew out again.  Johnny and Trevor passed the next week in harmony. The fire chief began to wonder if he’d weathered the worst of teenage angst with Trevor, and now things could return to how they had been between father and son prior to January. A time when Trevor had accepted Johnny’s authority as his parent with few questions asked.  A time when they had enjoyed doing things together like riding horses, hiking, fishing, kayaking, bowling, playing together on the fire department’s basketball and softball teams, and camping.

Trevor worked at the airport for Gus the Saturday prior to Memorial Day weekend.  He rode his bike home at five-thirty that evening.  When he arrived, Trevor stored his bike in the garage, and then walked through the door that led to the barn. He started feeding the animals, and was joined by his father shortly after six when Johnny arrived home from work. 

“Wanna go in to town for a pizza after we clean up?” Johnny asked, as he and his son walked to the house at seven.

“Sure,” Trevor agreed.  Though Clarice always kept the refrigerator stocked with plenty of meals that could heated in the microwave, the teenager would never pass up the offer of pizza.  “Hey, Pops, Gus is gonna give me flying lessons this summer in exchange for me working at the airport on weekends.”

“What?”

“Instead of paying me, Gus is gonna give me flying lessons in exchange for the hours I put in on weekends.”

“Trevor, we talked about this last summer.  I told you no flying lessons until you’re eighteen.”

“But—“

“This subject isn’t open for debate.”

“But—“

“What did I just say?”

Trevor spun to face his father.  “You’re so unfair!  I don’t know what difference it makes! I worked it all out with Gus.”

“The difference it makes is that I told you last summer no flying lessons until you’re eighteen. If you decide to take lessons at that time, then you’ll be an adult and the choice will be yours.”

“So, what?  You think I’m a little kid who can’t handle the responsibility?”

“You’re acting like a little kid, but no, I’ve never doubted you can handle the responsibility.”

“Then why not?”

“Because—“

“Don’t say, ‘because I said so.’  Don’t say it, Pops.”

“All right, I won’t. I’ll fall back on no.”

“How come you can’t see how important this is to me?  How come you have to ruin everything I wanna do?”

“I don’t think I’m ruining everything you wanna do.”

“I do.  And it’s because you’re old.  If you were young like Connor’s father, then you’d see things my way.  If my mother was here, she’d let me take flying lessons.”

“Well, I’m not young like Connor’s father, and your mother isn’t here, so you’re stuck putting up with decrepit old feeble-minded me and what I say.  And what I say to flying lessons is no.”

“You’re being unreasonable!”

“Trevor, I said no, and I said there was no room for debate.  Therefore, the subject is now closed.”

The teenager spun on one heel and stomped for the back door.  “I can’t believe you.”

“Get cleaned up. We’re going out to eat.”

“I don’t wanna go anywhere! Thanks to you, I just lost my appetite.”

Johnny sighed as the back storm door slammed shut.  He sat down on one of the wooden swings that still hung from the swing set that hadn’t been used by Trevor and his friends in four years now.

The fire chief gazed at the swing set and slide, then at the crossover bars, and then at the fire station fort he’d built for Trevor ten years earlier.  He supposed it was time to take all this equipment down and give it to some family with young children who would enjoy it.  For some reason, he hadn’t been able to do that yet, and he found himself wondering if Trevor had been correct the previous week when he’d said, “You think you can somehow keep a little kid forever. Keep me your little boy forever.  Well, I’m not your little boy anymore, Pops.”

Am I trying to keep him from growing up?  Am I being unreasonable and not giving him privileges he deserves?

Johnny mulled these thoughts over as he slowly pushed himself back and forth on the swing using the heels of his work boots. The fire chief knew his son was correct about one thing. Unlike some fifteen year olds, Trevor was responsible enough to take flying lessons. Not only did Johnny believe that, he knew Gus did, too, or the man wouldn’t have offered to teach Trevor to fly.  But Johnny also knew something he hadn’t shared with his son.  That if he gave Trevor permission to take lessons, and then something happened, Johnny would never forgive himself.  He’d never forgive himself if he allowed his son to take flying lessons, and then during the course of that, the unspeakable happened and Trevor lost his life while in an airplane.  Not that such an event would be any easier for Johnny to bear if Trevor was an adult, but at least at that point the choice to take flying lessons was Trevor’s and Trevor’s alone.  Johnny wasn’t so foolish as to think that Trevor wasn’t going to make a number of choices he didn’t approve of after his son reached adulthood, but if nothing else, Johnny’s responsibilities to a minor child would have ended.   Now Johnny understood better something his father had said to him shortly after Trevor turned thirteen.

“The best you can really hope for, John, the best any parent can hope for, is that you’ve given your child the right compass to navigate life with.  If you’ve given him a strong base to build on – passed on your morals and instilled in him a basic sense of honesty and decency, then you can’t ask any more of yourself than that.  What Trevor does with that compass, where it takes him after he turns eighteen, is not something you’ll have an ounce of control over.”

It was this feeling of losing control over his role as Trevor’s parent that was difficult for Johnny to deal with. As a single father, and a single man, Johnny had always known it would be hard on him when the day came that Trevor left home to make his way in the world.  He just hadn’t realized the process of Trevor leaving home would, to some degree, begin before his son graduated from high school.

When Johnny entered the house thirty minutes later, it didn’t surprise him to hear Boys in Bondage screaming loudly from Trevor’s stereo. The fire chief climbed the stairs and knocked loudly on his son’s door. When his knock went unanswered, he pounded on the door with his fist. When that was ignored, he opened the door and entered the room uninvited.

Trevor was lying on his back on the bed.  When his father entered the room he turned onto his right side, facing away from Johnny.  John walked to the stereo and turned it off.

“Hey! I was listenin’ to that.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. And give this CD back to Connor on Monday, please.”

“Whatever.”

“Not, ‘whatever.’ “Yes, Papa,” would be the proper response.”

Trevor shifted so he could make eye contact with his father.

“You’re not ‘Papa’ to me anymore.  Only a little kid uses that name.”

“I’ve always liked it.”

“Well, I don’t.”

     “Trev, look, I don’t like the fact that we’ve been fighting a lot lately. What can we do to put an end to it?”

     “You can let me go to the concert with my friends. You can let me take flying lessons from Gus.”

     “I’m sorry, but the answer to both of those things remains no.  When you turn sixteen I’ll get you a pickup truck like I promised months ago, provided you keep your end of the bargain by maintaining your A average, and working in order to pay for the gas and insurance.”

     “I don’t want a stupid truck.  I wanna learn how to fly.”

     “I think you’ll feel differently next May when you turn sixteen and have your driver’s license.”

     “No, I won’t.”

     Johnny sighed. “Trevor, you have to meet me half way here.  You can’t tell me I treat you like a little kid, and then when I offer you something like the privilege to have your own vehicle, turn your nose up at it because it’s not flying lessons.”

     “Well, it’s not.”

     “Son—“

     “Pops, just get out, please. Just leave me alone.”

     As Johnny shut the door and the obnoxious music was switched on once more, he wondered if he’d ever hear his son call him Papa again. Johnny didn’t know why that simple term of endearment was so important to him, but he couldn’t deny that it was.

____________________

Libby,

     My pops won’t let me take flying lessons. You know what? I do hate him.

Trevor.

     Chapter 5

     Chet Kelly parked his silver Jeep Cherokee at the curb in front of Roy’s house.  Roy’s Porsche was parked on the far left side of the driveway, and the DeSoto mini-van was in the garage.  Chet didn’t see Joanne’s car, meaning she was still at work, he supposed.  As he walked to the front door, Chet took note of the purple Dodge Neon parked in the middle of the driveway and wondered who owned it. He didn’t have to wonder long.  Because the main door to the house was open, he could see through the living room and into the dining room through the storm door.  Libby was sitting at the table doing homework.  She looked up at the sound of his knock.  She smiled as she stood and walked to the door.

     “Hi, Mr. Kelly,” the teenager greeted her father’s old co-worker while unlatching the lock.  She opened the door and allowed him to enter. 

     “Hey, Libby.” Chet indicated over his shoulder with his right thumb.  “Is that your car out there?”

     “Yep. I got it a few weeks ago.”

     “Nice.”

     “Thanks. It’s six years old, but it runs good.  Or at least that’s what Grandpa said.”

     “So your gramps wouldn’t give his Porsche to you, huh?”

     “Don’t I wish. But no, he wouldn’t give it to me.  Grandma says he’ll be buried in it.”

     “Probably,” Chet agreed. “Is your grandpa around?”

     Libby nodded toward the patio doors that sat behind the table where she’d been working.  “He’s in the backyard.”

     “Okay, thanks.  Mind if I walk through here?”

     “No, go ahead.”

     Chet walked through the living and dining rooms, then slid the patio screen open and stepped outside. A shadow stretching out in front of him caused Roy to glance up from his work.  He’d been using a battery operated weed whipper to edge the grass around Joanne’s flowerbeds.  He shut the tool off and leaned it against the house as Chet approached.

     “Hey, Chet.”

     “Roy,” the man nodded. “I see Joanne keeps ya’ busy when you’re not at work, huh?”

     “Something like that.”

     “This session about over with?”

     “Yep. The kids are due to graduate in three more weeks, and then I’m off until the next session starts right after Labor Day.”

     Chet snorted.  “Kids.”

     “Sorry, Chet, but these days everyone under forty is a kid to me.”

     “Well, not to me,” the sixty-one year old Chet said, as though by declaring that he could keep from growing older.  “As far as I’m concerned, I’m still a kid.”

     “As far as most people are concerned, you’re still a kid.”

     “Glad to hear it.”

     “So how’s retirement treating you?”

     “Good, good. Didn’t think I’d be able to get used to havin’ so much free time on my hands, but I like it. I work for Marco when he needs extra help for a big party or something, but otherwise, I’m free as a bird and lovin’ every minute of it.”

     Marco Lopez had retired from the fire department twelve years earlier, and owned a restaurant and catering business. For Chet, retirement was relatively new.  He’d worked until his youngest son, Ryan, had graduated from college the previous May, and then retired in August of 2006.

     “How are the boys?” Roy asked.

     “Fine. Ryan’s first year of teaching went great. I wasn’t sure if he’d like dealing with high school kids, but he seems to.  Next year he’ll not only be teaching history and government, but he was asked to be an assistant coach for the boy’s baseball team, too.”

     “Good for him.  And Collin?”

     Chet couldn’t help but smile.  His oldest son had joined the fire department three years earlier.

     “Great. He’s workin’ outta 44’s. Likes it a lot.  He got engaged a couple of months ago, but they haven’t set a date yet.”

     “Tell him congratulations.  I can’t believe your kids are old enough to be out on their own. Seems like only yesterday that they were just little guys swimming in my pool at the reunion picnic each summer.”

     “I know what you mean.  I can’t believe you’re a grandpa six times over, and that Libby is what...sixteen?”

     “She’ll be seventeen in a few weeks.”

     “Hard to imagine, huh?”

     “Yeah, it is,” Roy agreed as he thought of his six granddaughters who ranged in age from almost seventeen, down to John and Shawna’s eighteen-month-old twins.  In-between Libby and the twins, Sarah and Hannah, there was John and Shawna’s three year-old Emily, and then Chris’s nine-year-old Madison and eleven-year-old Brittany.

     “Any more DeSotos on the way that I don’t know about?”

     “None that I’m aware of.  All my kids tell me their families are complete, so I think John’s twins are the end of the line until the great grandchildren start coming along.”

     “Don’t even mention that.  If we’re standin’ here havin’ a conversation about your great grandchildren in another ten years, then I’ll know we’re a couple of old farts.”

     “I hate to break the news to you, Chet, but I’ve got a feeling it’s a strong possibility.”

     “Yeah, me too.  But hey, I didn’t come here to talk about gettin’ old, cause no matter what the mirror says, I’m still young at heart.  And because I’m young at heart, you’ll never guess what I did.”

     “No, I’ll never guess.”

     “Aren’t you even gonna try?”

     “Nope.”

     “Aw, Roy, you’re no fun.”

     “Chet, I could stand here and guess all day and not get it right.  Just go ahead and tell me.”

     “If Gage was here, he’d guess.”

     “You’re right, he would. But since the Phantom’s favorite foe isn’t here, you’ll have to settle for me.  So what’d you do?”

     “I bought a vacation home.”

     “That’s nice.”

     “Aren’t you gonna guess where?”

     “No.”

     “Aren’t you gonna ask where?”

     “Okay, where?”

     “Jackson Lake.”

     “That’s up around Fresno, isn’t it?”

     “Yeah, about an hour or so northeast of there.”

     “Congratulations.  I’m sure you and Bonnie will enjoy it.”

     Bonnie was Chet’s new wife.  Or at least that’s how Roy always thought of her since Chet and Bonnie had been married just fifteen months, and since Roy had only met her one time.

     “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

     “Oh.  So Bonnie doesn’t want a second home?”

     “I don’t care if she does or not. We got divorced seven weeks ago.”

     “Uh...oh.  I didn’t know.  I’m sorry to hear that.”

     “Don’t be. Believe me when I tell you shedding that woman’s fat ass was the best thing I ever did.  Which just goes to show you, that you should never let your priest play matchmaker.”

     “I’ll keep that in mind.”

     “So anyway, I figured I deserved a present after the hell I’ve been through with that woman, so I bought a second home. Jackson Lake’s a great place to fish, and the Sierras are right there so a guy can ski and snowmobile in the winter.  My boys are really looking forward to going up there with me.”

     “Sounds like you’ll have a lot of fun.”

     “I’m sure we will. And I want you and Joanne to come up and spend some weekends with me when I’m there.”

     “Thanks. We might not get up there this year, but next year, after Libby graduates and we retire, we’ll have more time to travel.”

     “Oh. So you don’t think you could come up this summer for a week? I mean, not with Joanne necessarily, but just you?”

     “I don’t know,” Roy shrugged.  “Why?”

     “ ‘Cause Marco and Ryan are goin’ up there with me in July for a week. They’re gonna help me work on the place. I thought maybe you’d wanna come, too.”

     “Just how much fixing up does this vacation home of yours need, Chet?”

     “Well...uh, some.”

     “How much is some?”

     “New shingles on the roof, new wiring, the deck that overlooks the lake needs to be rebuilt, the bathrooms could use some work, the front steps need to be rebuilt, the entire house needs a good cleaning and airing out, and then there’s the—“

     “Remember the last time you bought a fixer-upper?”

     “Roy, give me a break. That was over thirty years ago, and it was just plain bad luck.”

     “Yeah,” Roy smiled, “bad luck for Johnny.”

     “Well, Gage isn’t going to be here this time, though come to think of it, maybe I should give him a call.  He’s great with a hammer and nails.”

     “Don’t bother.  He’s due to be here the week of July 22nd with Trevor for our 51’s reunion picnic. I doubt he’ll be taking any time off before then.”

     “That’s too bad, ‘cause I could really use his help. But, how about you? Will you come up?”

     “What week in July are you planning on doing this?”

     “The week of the fifteenth.”

     “Let me talk it over with Joanne.”

     “Does that mean yes or no?”

     “It means let me talk it over with Joanne. If we don’t have a lot going on around here, and provided Jo doesn’t care, I can probably go with you guys.”

     Chet slapped Roy’s upper arm. “That’s great! Thanks a lot, Roy.  I’ll call you in a couple of weeks to touch base.”

     “That’s fine.”

     As Chet headed for the corner of the house, he turned around and grinned at his former co-worker. “And you know what the best part of having a vacation home is?”

     “No. What?”

     “Unlike a wife, it doesn’t talk back. Damn, Roy, but I didn’t have nothin’ but constant headaches while I was married to that woman.  Yap, yap, yap. On some days I didn’t think she’d ever shut up. At least my new house is nice and quiet.”

     Roy just shook his head and grinned as the Irishman made his way to the front of the house where his vehicle was parked.  As he picked up the weed whipper and turned it on, Roy acknowledged to himself that some things would never change, and in the case of Chet Kelly, some people would never change, no matter how old they lived to be.

     Chapter 6

     The Saturday morning that kicked off Memorial Day weekend found Trevor Gage finishing his barn chores shortly after eight o’clock. He let the horses into the corral, then jumped the fence and headed toward the house.  The dogs of his boyhood, Tasha and Nicolai, were eleven years old now, and beginning to show their age.  Nicolai was lying outside the barn door.  He lifted his head as Trevor passed by, but didn’t get up to follow the teen.  Tasha walked beside her young master as he made his way to the house.  She lay down on the back deck when Trevor opened the door and entered into the laundry room. 

Trevor bent and took his boots off, then placed them on the rubber mat his father kept next to the door.  He walked over to the sink that was positioned between the upright freezer and the washing machine.  He turned on both the hot and cold water faucets, and allowed them to run until the water was warm.  He plunged his hands and arms beneath the water and grabbed the soap from the dish.  When Trevor had washed the dirt away, he shut the water off and grabbed a blue towel that hung from a rack mounted over the sink.  He dried off, then tossed the towel in the laundry hamper. He crossed to a cabinet and pulled out a clean towel.  He hung it on the rack before opening the door that led into the kitchen.    

     “Oh, there you are, luv,” Clarice said as she walked toward him with her purse over her shoulder.  “I was just coming to look for you.  I’m leaving. I’m supposed to be at the church by eight-thirty.  We need to get the van loaded with the food and gifts.”

     Trevor nodded. Every year on this day, Clarice and other women from her church went to the Veterans’ home in Juneau where they spent the day honoring the men who had served their country.  The women always hosted a picnic, and then had gifts to pass out like books and movies that had been donated by members of the Methodist Church. When Trevor was younger, he’d often go with Clarice, especially if his father was working.

     “Your papa called a few minutes ago. He’s finishing some things up at the station.  He said he should be home by eleven.”

     “Okay,” Trevor said. His father was just coming off a twenty-four shift.  That meant he went off duty at eight a.m., unless he had things to do at the station, or was out on a call.

     “Would you like to come with me to Juneau? We can stop by the station and tell Papa where you’re going.”

     “Clarice, he’s not Papa anymore.  He’s Pops. And no, I don’t wanna go. Gus has me scheduled to start work at one. But thanks for asking.”

     “You’re welcome. It’s nice to know you can still say thank you.”

     Trevor scowled.

     “Oh, such an unhappy face.  Trevor, what’s going on with you and your papa lately?  You two can barely stand to be in the same room together.”

     “Nothing.”

     “Trevor.”

     Trevor never could ignore Clarice’s intense gaze combined with the tone she used when she said his name that way.

     “It’s just that Pops won’t let me do some things I want to.”

     “What kind of things?”

     “Just things.  Just stuff I’m old enough to be able to do.”

     “Evidently Papa doesn’t think so.”

     “Like I said, he’s not Papa to me anymore.  Only little kids use that name.”

     “Trevor, would you listen to an old woman who loves you?”

     Trevor couldn’t help but smile.  “You’re not old.”

     “Yes, I am, but that’s beside the point.  So, will you listen?”

     “I guess.”

     “All right.  What you and your pap...pops, are going through right now, isn’t anything different from what fathers and sons have been going through since the dawn of time.  By virtue of the fact that he’s your father, please give him the respect he’s due.”

     “What if he doesn’t give me respect?”

     “I hardly believe that’s true.”

     “Well, he doesn’t.  He treats me like a little kid.”

     Clarice raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’ve been acting like a little kid.”

     Trevor shook his head in disgust and turned away from the woman.  As Clarice passed by him, she got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

     “Have a nice weekend. I’ll see you after school on Tuesday.”

     Trevor never could stay mad at Clarice.  She was too much like a favorite grandmother to harbor ill will toward her. 

     “See you Tuesday. Have fun today.”

     “I will.”  As the woman opened the door that led into the laundry room she turned around. “Oh, and Trevor?”

     Trevor made eye contact with Clarice.  “Yeah?”

     “Although it’s been many years since I was fifteen, I do remember a good deal of what it’s like to be your age. And one thing I recall is that when you’re fifteen, the world doesn’t move fast enough to suit you.  But, rest assured, things will change quickly enough, and all too soon you’ll be a grown man leaving this house to set out on your own.  And not too many years after that, you’ll have a career and family of your own.  And before you know it things will change again, and the man who loved you and raised you won’t be here to come home to anymore.  When that happens, you’ll wish with all your heart that you had the opportunity to call him papa one more time.”

     Clarice held Trevor’s gaze a moment, then quietly shut the door and left the house.  The teenager shook his head at the odd ways of older people.  They were always talking about the world moving fast, and kids growing up too quickly, and death. 

     Trevor took the stairs two at a time and entered his room.  He grabbed clean clothes, walked across the hall to the bathroom, and took a shower.  Steam billowed out of the room when the teen opened the door twenty minutes later.  He made the trip back to his bedroom, his thick damp hair combed into place.  He grabbed The History of Aviation off his nightstand and flopped stomach down upon his bed. 

     The teenager looked up when a light rain began to tap against his windows.  Rain was a typical occurrence in Eagle Harbor, and was often referred to as “liquid sunshine” by the locals. He returned his attention to his book, only to look toward the window again when he heard the repeated blare of a car horn. He scrambled off the bed and looked out the window. A blue Dodge mini-van that Trevor recognized was parked in the driveway. Before he even reached the back door, Trevor heard, “Hey, Trev! Come on!  Let’s go!”

     Trevor slipped into his tennis shoes and stepped out onto the deck. Connor was standing up on the driver’s side, half in and out of the vehicle, motioning for Trevor to join him.

     “Come on!”

     The van was loaded with kids, all of them motioning for Trevor to get in. 

     “Come on, Trev!”

     “Hey, Trev, get your stuff and let’s go!”

     Trevor ignored his friends, and ignored the chilly mist falling on his bare arms, as he walked toward Connor.  Quietly, he said, “Connor, I told you I can’t.”

     “Oh, come on. Your pop is at the station. I saw his Durango there. Just leave him a note and tell him you’re spending the night somewhere.”

     “I can’t.”

     “Why not?”

     Trevor valued Connor’s friendship, but the one drawback to it was that, when pursing a good time, Connor refused to understood the meaning of the word no.  

     “You know why not.”

     “And I just told you what to do.  He’ll never know the difference.”

     “You don’t know my pops.  Believe me, he’ll know the difference.”

     “No, he won’t.  Just tell him that we decided not to go the concert, and that you’re staying at my place.”

     “I can’t. He’ll find—“

     Before Trevor could finish his sentence Kylee slid the side door open and stuck her head out. “Trevor, what’s the matter?  Aren’t you coming with us?”

     When you’re fifteen-years-old, it’s hard to resist the attention of a blond, blue-eyed cheerleader that every boy in your high school wants to date.

     Kylee patted the bench seat beside her.  “Here. I saved you a place.”

     Trevor chewed on his lip with indecision. “I want to, Kylee, but I—“

     “Oh, Trevor, please. Come with us.”

     And, when you’re a fifteen-year-old boy, it’s hard to resist a pretty girl begging you to accompany her to a concert.

     “Okay, I’ll come. Just let me get a couple of things.”

     The kids in the van erupted into a cheer while Trevor ran for the house.  It took him five minutes to throw a change of clothes in a zippered sports bag, add a comb, a tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush, his hairbrush, and grab his wallet off his dresser.  He stopped by his closet on the way out of his room and took his jean jacket off its hanger, and his sleeping bag off the shelf.  He put the jacket on, slipped the strap of the sleeping bag over his left shoulder, picked his sports bag up from the bed, and jogged down the stairs.  By the time he reached the kitchen, the teenager knew what the note was going to leave for his father would say.  He opened a drawer, tore a piece of paper from a notebook, and grabbed a pen.  Quickly, he scrawled,

Pops,

Gus needed me to come to work early.  I’ll see you later tonight.

Trevor

     The boy wasn’t sure what he’d do when evening came and he still wasn’t home.  He figured they’d be arriving in Anchorage about seven, so decided he would get to a pay phone and call his father.  Granted, Pops would be mad when he found out where Trevor really was, but what could he do?  By then Trevor would be five hundred miles away, and getting ready to walk into an amphitheater packed with teenagers. His mind started to drift to Sunday night, when he’d have no choice but to return home. He didn’t have time to play out all the scenarios that might have caused him to realize what a foolish idea this was, and might have caused him to change his mind, before Connor beeped the mini-van’s horn again.

     Trevor put the note underneath a refrigerator magnet of a fire truck Libby had given his father for Christmas a few years earlier, and tossed the pen back in the drawer. He ran from the house, dodging raindrops as he made his way to the van.  Five minutes later, the teenagers were headed for the ferry that would take them to the mainland, and beyond that, to the road that led to Anchorage.

     Chapter 7

            John Gage arrived home at twenty minutes to eleven.  He parked the fire department’s Dodge Durango in his driveway, then dashed for the house.  It was still raining, and looked like it would continue to do so all day.  He thought ahead to that evening. He’d suggest to his son that they go to Juneau to have dinner and see a movie when Trevor got off work at the airport.  These days it was hard to say what type of a reaction Johnny would receive to that offer, but he decided to extend it nonetheless.  Trevor had barely been speaking to him this past week, ever since Johnny had put the kibosh on the flying lessons.

     Am I wrong? Johnny wondered, not for the first time since the previous Saturday.  Am I being selfish by refusing to allow him to take lessons from Gus?  Am I trying to keep Trevor my little boy, like he claims?

     It was at times like this when Johnny envied the relationship Joanne and Roy shared. He’d watched them navigate the teen years as a cohesive unit with Chris and Jennifer. Though they’d experienced their share of disagreements with their teens, at least Roy and Joanne had one another to turn to when they weren’t sure if they were making the right decision regarding their kids.  For Johnny, this was a solo deal.  Not that he hadn’t known it would be from the moment Trevor was born, it was just that he hadn’t anticipated Trevor’s teen years taking such an emotional toll on him.

     I suppose I could call my dad this afternoon after Trevor’s gone to work and talk to him about it.  He’s always a good sounding board, Johnny thought as he bent to unlace his boots.  On the other hand, right before we hang up, he’ll laugh and say, “See, John, I always told you that I hoped someday you had a kid who was just like you.  Now you’re getting paid back for the grief you put me through when you were a teenager.”

     At any other time Johnny might have been able to laugh along with his dad, and oftentimes he had, but not today.  So in light of that, the fire chief decided to pass on the phone call to his father for the time being as he entered the silent house.

     That’s weird. No television. No music. And he’s not on the phone.  He must be in my office on the computer.

     “Trevor!” Johnny called as he walked through the great room. “Trev!”

     The man looked in his office and found it empty of the boy he was searching for. He called up the stairs, “Trev!  Trevor, you up there?”

     When he received no answer, Johnny headed back toward the kitchen. He assumed his son was in the barn, and decided to make lunch for the two of them.  It was when he reached for the handle on the refrigerator door that Johnny’s eyes landed on the note Trevor had left for him.

     Oh, so that explains the quiet house.

     Johnny made himself a chicken salad sandwich and sliced a peach into a bowl.  He’d just sat down and taken the first bite of his food when the phone rang. He stood and crossed to the counter where he picked up the portable. 

     “Hello?”

     “John, hi!”  A voice boomed through the line. “It’s Gus.”

     “Hey, Gus.”

     “Listen, tell Trev he doesn’t have to come to work today. Fog’s supposed to roll in soon, so there won’t be anyone flying. I’m going to clean up around the office and head home in an hour or so.  But tell him if the weather is good tomorrow then he can come in at noon.”

     “Okay, I will.” Johnny turned to face the note that was still hanging on the refrigerator.  “But Trevor left me a note that said you had called this morning and asked him to come to work early.”

     “Me?”

     “That’s what the note says.”

     “No, I didn’t call.”

     “Oh.”

     After a lengthy silence Gus said, “John?”

     “Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here.”

     “So Trevor’s not home?”

     “No, he’s not.  Or at least I don’t think he is.  Maybe he’s out in the barn.”

     “Yeah, that’s probably it.  Though why he’d leave you a note that said I’d called him to come to work early, I don’t know.”

     I have a feeling I do, Gus, and for that boy’s sake, my feeling had better be wrong.

     “Uh...I don’t know either, Gus.  Might have been a mix-up in communication between Trevor and Clarice or something.”

     “Yeah, that must have been it.  Well, tell him to come by at noon tomorrow.  I’ll have plenty for him to do if the weather’s good.”

     “Sure, I’ll tell him. Bye.”

     “Bye, John.”

     Johnny wasted no time in slipping his boots back on and tying the laces.  He grabbed his Eagle Harbor Fire Department jacket out of the laundry room closet and headed for the barn.  Though he had hoped for a different outcome, he wasn’t surprised not to find his son in the barn. Nor was he surprised to see Trevor’s bike resting against the north wall in the garage.  He absently patted the head of Nicolai, who had followed him into the garage from the barn.  The dog remained there with his mate, safe from the rain, while Johnny ran for the house. 

     Johnny grabbed the phone book off a pantry shelf in the kitchen and looked up a number. He punched the digits into the portable receiver.  Connor’s father answered on the third ring.  Johnny could hear the television set in the background, and from the sounds of the engines guessed the man was watching an auto race of some sort. 

     “Dave, hi. It’s John Gage.”

     “Hi, Chief,” greeted the man who was a member of Johnny’s volunteer firefighting force.

     “Listen, is Connor home?”

     “No, he’s not. He headed for Anchorage this morning to see that concert.”

     “Is Trevor with him?”

     “I don’t know.  I guess so.  Connor said something about picking Trevor up at your place.”

Johnny’s mouth tightened. “Do you know what time they left?”

“Not exactly sure.  But Connor left here about eight to start picking up the kids who were going.  The concert starts at eight tonight, so I told him they’d want to be on their way by nine.”

“Thanks.”

“Is something wrong, Chief? You sound upset.”

“No, nothing’s wrong.  Thanks for the information.”

Johnny paid no attention to the baffled tone that responded with, “Sure. Any time,” as he hung up the phone.

The fire chief didn’t change out of his uniform, or finish eating his lunch.  He stomped through the laundry room, locked the door and shut it firmly behind him, then headed for the Durango. He started the vehicle and wheeled it around, following the same route Connor had taken two hours earlier.

_________________________

Trevor looked out the side passenger window at the passing scenery.  The rain had stopped, but the day was still gray and overcast.  He knew they were making good time, though they’d probably lingered too long at a McDonald’s where they’d stopped for lunch.  Still, they’d be in Anchorage by seven or shortly after, and Connor claimed to know exactly where the amphitheater was.  Trevor hoped there was a pay phone nearby.  He didn’t look forward to calling his father, but at the same time, he didn’t want Johnny to worry when he didn’t come home all night.  Trevor didn’t allow himself to think ahead to Sunday night when he did return home.  He wasn’t quite sure what his father would do to him for going to the concert, but he supposed he’d be grounded for a couple of weeks.

But when nothing happens on this trip like I told Pops, maybe he’ll finally quit treating me like I’m a little kid.  Maybe this is what I had to do to prove to him that I’m not eight years old anymore.

Trevor knew he was grasping at straws with those thoughts, but decided they were thoughts he’d cling to for now.

Music was blaring throughout the van, reminding Trevor of how much he hated Boys in Bondage.  His father had been correct when he’d surmised Trevor didn’t like the group nearly as much as he let on.  Trevor didn’t care for heavy metal music, but that’s what a lot of his friends listened to, so in order to be a part of the group he went along with it.  He turned in his seat when Jake placed something cold against his face.

“Here, Trev.”

Trevor took the beer can, but then passed it up front to Michael, who was riding in the passenger seat next to Connor.

When Jake handed Trevor another beer can, the fifteen-year-old knew it was meant for him, just like the one he’d passed on to Michael had been. Trevor opened the can as more were circulated around the van, but didn’t take a drink from it.  He hadn’t tried alcohol yet, in part because his father paid close attention to where he was and whom he was hanging out with, and in part because he hadn’t had the desire.  For now, Trevor just hung onto the open can, hoping no one would notice that he didn’t take a drink.  He was glad that Connor had enough sense not to drink and drive. Because of that, he supposed Connor would have his fill of beer later in the hotel room.

Bags of potato chips and Doritos were passed around next. Connor glanced in the rearview mirror as Michael took a bag of chips from Trevor.

“Holy shit!  Get rid of the beer!  A cop’s on my ass with his lights on!”

Trevor swiveled around as beer cans were passed back to Jake and his girlfriend, Brianna, who were sitting in the back seat along with another couple.  They began stowing the cans in a cooler, not paying any attention to what was spilling as the containers were thrust from teenager to teenager.

“Oh damn,” Connor said. “Now he’s got his siren on too!  He wants me to pull over.”

“Were you speeding?”  Michael asked.

“No!”

As the vehicle approached with lights and siren blaring Trevor’s eyes grew wide.

Oh no.  Oh no.  Why?  Why is he doing this to me?

Connor brought the mini-van to a stop on the shoulder of the road.  He turned around to get a look at the man climbing out of the Durango. His brow furrowed with puzzlement.

“Hey, Trev.  That’s not a cop, that’s your pops.”

“I know.”

“What do you think he wants? How come he followed—“

Before Connor could finish his sentence, the side door was thrown open.  Johnny crooked two fingers at his son.

“Get out of this van right now.”

“But—“

“Trevor, unless you want me to embarrass you in front of your friends, get out and get in my truck.” 

Trevor’s eyes never left the ground as he grabbed his sports bag and sleeping bag from the vehicle’s floor, climbed out of the mini-van, and marched toward the Durango with clenched fists.

Johnny scanned the van’s interior.  “Is there anyone else  making this trip without permission from their parents who wants a ride back to Eagle Harbor?”

The kids glanced at one another.  Kylee unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out, followed by the boy who had been sitting on the other side of her.  The rest of the kids remained as they were.

The fire chief looked at the driver.

“Connor, you’re not drinking, are you?”

“No, Chief.”

“I smell beer.”

“I know.  But I’m not drinking.”

Johnny shook his head.  “You’d better not be. And you’d better plan on telling your father that you had beer in this van when you get home tomorrow night, because if you don’t, I will.”

“Yes, Chief. But he won’t care as long as I wasn’t drinking and driving.”

“I guess that’s his business then. You just make sure you tell him.”

“I will.”

After Johnny had slammed the door on the van, Connor looked at the kids who remained.

“Boy, is he strict. I really feel sorry for Trevor. By the look in the Chief’s eyes, his ass is gonna be grass.”

“I’ll say,” Michael agreed.

Connor pulled back onto the highway and headed toward Anchorage, while the Durango made a U-turn and headed back toward Eagle Harbor.

     Chapter 8

Trevor sat slumped in the front seat of the red vehicle as the miles passed.  He’d tried to get in the back with Kylee and Matt, but his father had shagged him by the elbow and growled, “You’ll sit up front with me.”

The trip back to Eagle Harbor seemed to take days, as opposed to hours.  Now Trevor knew what a man condemned to die felt like as he awaited his execution.  You were aware the inevitable was coming, and didn’t know if you just wanted to get it over with, or if you wanted to drag it out as long as possible.

Trevor had been surprised when Kylee and Matt had climbed out of Connor’s van.  He hadn’t been aware that anyone else’s parents had said no to the trip like his father had.  But then, Trevor wasn’t certain if, in fact, Kylee’s folks and Matt’s folks had said no, or if Kylee and Matt hadn’t told their parents where they were going, and were afraid Trevor’s father would do so.

Great.  Just great.  Now not only will they think I’m a baby, but they’ll think my father’s a narc, too.

Not one word was spoken in the Durango the entire four-hour drive back to Eagle Harbor. Every so often Trevor would risk a glance at his father, only to see Johnny’s hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, his mouth set in a firm line of displeasure and fury.

When they arrived at Matt’s house, Trevor prayed his father wouldn’t get out of the vehicle and speak with Matt’s parents.  For once, his prayer was answered.  Matt jumped out of the Durango as fast as he could.

“Uh...bye. Thanks...thanks for the ride, Chief Gage.”

Johnny merely nodded his head.  When the rear door had been shut, they headed for Kylee’s home.  Again, Trevor’s father didn’t get out of the vehicle.  Kylee picked up the backpack she’d packed with clothes and makeup for the trip.

“Bye, Trevor.”

Trevor kept his eyes on the floor, not able to face this girl he’d so wanted to impress.  “Bye.”

“Bye...bye, Chief Gage. Thanks...um...thanks for the ride.”

Again, Johnny did nothing but nod his head. As soon as Kylee had entered the front door of her home, Johnny backed the Durango out of the driveway.  Trevor was certain that’s when the yelling would start, and was even more unnerved when it didn’t.  His father remained silent as he drove them out of Eagle Harbor. When Trevor could no longer stand the anticipation of what was to come, he glanced at Johnny.

“Pops—“

“Not now.”

“But—“

“I said, not now.”

“I just wanna say I’m sorry.”

“It’s easy to say ‘I’m sorry’ after you’ve been caught red-handed doing what you were told not to.”

“But I—“

“Not now.”

Trevor sighed and threw his head back against the seat.  He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out this entire day.  If only he’d been firm with Connor.  If only he’d stood his ground and just said, “No, I can’t go,” none of this would have happened. His father wouldn’t have tracked him down. He wouldn’t have been embarrassed in front of his friends. And Pops wouldn’t be so angry with him. But, on the other hand, if only his father had allowed him to go in the first place, none of this would have happened either. 

As the Durango came to a halt in front of the garage, Tasha and Nicolai ran to greet its passengers.  As Johnny got out of the vehicle he ordered, “Take care of the animals.  All of them.  When you’re done, come in the house.  I’ll be waiting for you in my office.”

Trevor wasn’t sure what, “I’ll be waiting for you in my office” meant, but it didn’t sound good.  And there had never been a time when he and his father had arrived home together that doing the chores hadn’t been a joint effort.  Trevor was about to point that out, but thought better of it as he watched his father march stiff-backed to the house.

The teenager sighed again as he bent to pet his dogs.  When he heard the back door slam he straightened, entered the barn, and began tending to the horses, cats, rabbits, and dogs.  No matter how long he tried to stretch the chores out, eventually all the animals had been given food, fresh water, and a clean living area.  When he had no where else to go but in the house, Trevor shoved his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans, bent his head, and slowly shuffled toward the back door. 

_________________________

Trevor found his father seated behind his oak desk in the office.  The computer’s screen saver of Dalmatians sporting helmets and turn-out coats while riding fire trucks was on, and the desk was clean, meaning Johnny hadn’t been doing any work while he waited for Trevor.  The teenager didn’t take this as a good sign, anymore than he’d taken his father’s directive that he do the chores alone as a good sign, nor taken his father’s, “I’ll be waiting for you in my office,” as a good sign. 

Johnny stood up and walked around the desk. Though Trevor had grown quite a bit since entering high school, he felt like his father was towering over him by several feet.

Johnny’s eyes narrowed with anger, his voice was cold and unyielding. “I told you more than a week ago that you couldn’t go to Anchorage with Connor, yet you went anyway.”

“I know, but—“

“I told you I’d take you and your friends if you wanted me to.  I gave you an alternative that you turned down.”

“I know, but—“

“I trusted you.  I assumed I didn’t have to check with you to see if you’d told Connor no, that you couldn’t go.  I assumed it wasn’t necessary for me to check with Connor’s parents to make sure you weren’t included in this trip.”

“I wasn’t included. And you can trust me.  I did tell Connor no, but—“

“I assumed I didn’t need Clarice to stay here until I got home today, in an effort to make certain you obeyed me.”

“You didn’t.  I wasn’t gonna go, but—“

Johnny thrust a finger into his son’s chest. “There are no buts, Trevor!  Do you get it? There are no buts!”

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?”

“Why? So you can lie about what happened?  So you can tell me you’re sorry?”

“I’m not gonna lie!  I did tell Connor I couldn’t go!  I told him that in school last week.  But he just showed up today without tellin’ me he was gonna.”

“Oh. So that makes you getting in that van and heading to Anchorage okay?”

“I didn’t say that.  But all my friends were with him.  I...I was gonna look dumb if I said no.”

“And you don’t think you looked dumb when I had to track you down and bring you back because you’d disobeyed me?”

“That’s not my fault, it’s yours.”

“Lose the attitude, young man. We discussed this trip several times and I told you no, that you couldn’t go.  I offered you a reasonable alternative, and you turned it down.  Now that’s where it should have ended. But, instead, you got in that van when you knew you shouldn’t have.  You left me a note tellin’ me you were at Gus’s, when the truth is Gus never called you to come into work early.”

“I...I didn’t know what else to say.”

“Of course you didn’t know what else to say!  The entire day was one big lie, wasn’t it?”

“Look, I said I was sor—“

“And what if it hadn’t started raining?  Gus would have been expecting you to show up to work at one o’clock.  Not to mention that I would have been expecting you home by seven.”

“I know.  I was gonna call you once we got to Anchorage and let you know where I—“

“Oh, so you were going to call me, huh?  And what did you think was gonna happen then?  That I was gonna tell you it was all right that you’d done exactly what I’d told you not to?”

“Quit treating me this way!  Quit treating me like a baby!”

“Then quit acting like one!”

“I hate this!  I hate the way you treat me!  It’s because you’re old!  None of my friends have to follow the rules I do.”

“I’d say you’re wrong about that, considering Kylee and Matt rode back with us.”

“Probably because they were afraid you were gonna narc on ‘em to their folks.”

“No. Probably because they didn’t have permission to be on that trip. Probably because they’d been told no, just like you had been.”

“It doesn’t matter. You ruined it for everyone!”

“I ruined what?  A concert where every other word the group screams is a four-letter one, and then the beer bash you were planning to have afterwards?”

“I wasn’t drinking.”

“Trevor, I know there was beer in that van.”

“I never said there wasn’t.  But I wasn’t drinking.  I wasn’t gonna drink.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

“You can.”

“Right now, your word doesn’t mean a whole lot.”

“That’s because you’re not being fair.  You’re not listening to what I say.  You’re only hearing what you wanna hear.”

“That’s not true. All I’m doing is stating the facts.”

“The facts as you see them. You’re too old! You don’t understand what it’s like to be a teenager.”

“I understand a lot more than you think I do.”

“No, you don’t! Connor’s parents aren’t like you.  And neither are Michael’s or Jake’s.  They’re young.  They’re young enough to be your kids.”

“Oh, so I’m not like Connor’s parents.  So there’s something wrong with me because I don’t allow my fifteen-year- old to ride to Anchorage with an inexperienced driver, spend the night in a hotel room with four girls, and take along three cases of beer besides!”

“Yeah,” Trevor challenged, “there’s something wrong with you. You just don’t get it.”

“If those are the rules Connor’s parents play by, then I don’t wanna get it.  They can set whatever standards they want to for their son, but I’m the one who sets the standards for you.”

“I wish it wasn’t that way!”

“Well, it is, so get used to it.”

“I don’t wanna get used to it!”

“From where I’m standing, I don’t see that you have much choice.”

“So what’s that mean? For the next three years you’re gonna treat me like I’m eight?”

“If you keep acting like you’re eight, then yes, I’ll have to treat you like you’re eight.”

For the first time in his life Trevor used a phrase he’d only heard, but never put into practice until this moment when his anger overruled his common sense, and overruled the morals his father had instilled in him.

“Fuck you!”

The boy’s head flew to the right when he was given an open-handed slap to his left cheek.  He stared at his father with shock as his face burned and turned red. He ran from the office, racing up the stairs until he reached his room.  The door was slammed with enough force to rattle the pictures on the great room’s walls.

Johnny turned and placed his hands on his desk. He leaned forward as he hung his head.  He wondered how he and Trevor had reached this point.  He wondered how, as a father, he cried, “Do over!” with the hope that somehow, he could relive the last ten minutes with the wisdom to handle the situation better than he had.

The trouble was, as Johnny had learned long ago, there were few do-overs during the process of parenthood.  All you could do was go forward.  And right now, going forward scared him.

_________________________

Libby,

     My pops and I had a huge fight tonight.  I swore at him and he slapped me.  I can’t stand living here anymore.

Trevor

Chapter 9

John Gage was in his office at the Eagle Harbor Fire Station on June 5th.  School had let out for the year at noon, but Trevor hadn’t stopped by to show his father his report card. He hadn’t stopped by the fire station at all since the altercation with his father that had resulted in Trevor getting slapped.  That had been over a week ago now, and during that time period, Trevor’s journeys had been limited to home and the airport, where he was allowed to go only when he was scheduled to work.  The frustrating part of it for Johnny was that Trevor seemed indifferent to it all.  He didn’t appear to care that the two-week period of grounding he’d earned for his transgressions had prevented him from attending his school’s end-of-year picnic, the sports banquet, a Freshman class roller skating party in Juneau, and a night of volleyball and pizza with the youth group from the Eagle Harbor Methodist church. Johnny knew all these events were important to his son.  Or at least they had been just a few short weeks before.

Johnny had kept his problems with Trevor private. He hadn’t even spoken of the turmoil in his house with Carl, his closest friend other than Roy. But in a small town like Eagle Harbor, people talked and news traveled.  He had no doubt that the kids who had gone to the concert had returned from Anchorage with quite a story about Chief Gage and how he’d pulled Connor over with flashing lights and blaring siren, and made Trevor get out of the van. He supposed half the town thought of him as a concerned parent who’d done the right thing, and the other half, the younger half, thought of him as an old coot who had no business raising a teenager in 2007, just like Johnny’s son thought.  If nothing else, Kylee’s mom had stopped by the station to thank him for bringing her daughter home, so at least one person young enough to be his offspring felt he’d done the right thing.

The ringing of the telephone brought Johnny from his musing.

“Eagle Harbor Fire Department. Chief Gage.”

“Hi, John.”

She didn’t identify herself, and though she’d never called him at the fire station before, she didn’t have to tell him who it was.

“Ashton.”

He tried not to sound cold with her, but he knew that’s exactly how he did sound. As though he was nodding a curt greeting to a stranger before walking away.

She ignored his tone, like she’d been doing for fifteen years now.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. If you’re calling for Trevor, he’s not here.  You’ll probably catch him at home.”  Johnny glanced at his watch and saw it was a few minutes after three. “He got out of school at noon.  Today was the last day for the year.”

“I know.  I already spoke with him.  He earned all A’s.  He was ranked number one in his class.  Did he tell you that?”

“No...uh...no.  I’ve been...I’ve been busy and haven’t gotten a chance to talk to him.”

She knew it was a lie, of course.  Johnny had no doubt she knew it was a lie. Until recently, there had been no achievement in Trevor’s life that Johnny didn’t know about well ahead of Ashton hearing the news.

“I told Trevor how proud Franklin and I are of him.  Isn’t it great, John? Valedictorian of his grade school class, and now well on his way to being valedictorian of his high school class.”

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“You don’t sound like you mean that.”

“I mean it.  I’m just...busy, like I told you.”

God, even after all these years she could still leave him tongue-tied. She was fifty now, but still beautiful judging by the pictures he’d seen of her in the family portraits she had done each summer when Trevor visited her and Franklin New York.

“Well, Franklin and I are thrilled.  I told Trevor we’d have to give him a present befitting of a young man who works as hard as he does.”

Of course.  A Mercedes, maybe?  Or why not a Lear jet?  Something that will make the night out for pizza and bowling I treat him to for his grades look like the kind of reward a neglected orphan would receive from a local charity.

“That’s nice of you and Franklin,” Johnny managed to say. “Just don’t spoil him, Ashton.”

She laughed in the way that could still make his heart skip a beat.  “Oh, John, you always say that.”

“I always say it, but you never listen,” Johnny bantered lightly, easily falling back into a routine that had been so comfortable for them years and years in the past now.

She laughed again, and then grew serious. “Listen, John, the reason I’m calling is because Franklin and I would like to invite Trevor to spend the summer with us.”

At first, Johnny wasn’t sure what she meant.  “He’s coming for two weeks in late July like he does every year.”

“I know. But I mean the entire summer.”

“Why?”

It was her turn to stammer. “Just...just because we want to.”

“But aren’t you working?”

“Yes. Though Franklin is semi-retired now, so he splits his time between home and the medical college where he’s still teaching.”

Ashton and her husband, a man twenty-five years her senior, were cardiac surgeons. From what little Johnny knew, Franklin was quite wealthy, having pioneered many new procedures during his long career that improved the quality of life for cardiac patients. He was a professor at the Columbia School of Medicine, where he’d been on staff for years, and had written more papers and books on the subject of cardiac medicine than even he could keep track of.

“So if you’re working, why do you want Trevor there for the summer?”

“We just do.  I don’t see nearly enough of him.”

“That was your choice, Ashton, not mine.”

“John, please. Don’t start. That’s water under a bridge neither of us can cross again.”

“You made that pretty clear fifteen years ago.”

“John.”

Johnny sighed. “All right, all right. I’m sorry.”

“So, back to what I was saying. Franklin and I would like Trevor to stay with us this summer.  I can arrange to have the ticket waiting for him at the airport. He can fly out of Anchorage on Saturday.”

“Ashton, it’s already Tuesday.”

“I know, but that should give him plenty of time to get packed.  Besides, he doesn’t need to bring much in the way of clothing.  I’ll buy him anything he wants once he gets here.”

Naturally.

“Thanks for inviting him, but it won’t work.  He’s got a job lined up for the summer crewing on a fishing boat during the week, plus he’s gonna work out at the airport on weekends.”

“John—“

“Ashton, I’m sorry, but it won’t work. He’s arranged for time off at both his jobs so that we can go to California for a week in July, and from there he’ll be flying out of LAX to see you.”

“John...John, listen to me for a minute, please.”

“What?”

“John, Trevor called me this afternoon and asked if he could spend the summer with Franklin and me.”

“He what?”

“Trevor called me and asked if he could come to New York for the summer.”

Johnny could feel his blood pressure begin to rise.  “I’m his custodial parent.”

“I know that.  But I really think you should consider this.  Trevor’s told me about the...challenges you two have been having and I think—“

“I don’t care what you think.”

“John—“

“Listen, Ashton, I’ve got work to do.”

“Just consider it, please.  Talk to Trevor and—“

“Don’t tell me how to raise my son.”

“I’m not telling you how to raise our son. All I’m asking is that you listen to what he has to say.”

“I’ve got no more interest in what Trevor has to say than I have in what you have to say.”

“John, please. Don’t be like that.”

“Be like what?”

“Stubborn and bull-headed.”

“I’m not stubborn and bull-headed.”

“Yes, you are. You always have been.  Remember the time we went white-water rafting and you—“

“Bye, Ashton.”

With that, Johnny slammed the receiver down.  The last thing he was going to do was relive old memories with the one woman he still carried a torch for.

_________________________

Trevor Gage paced in front of the bay window that looked out from the breakfast nook and across the wide front lawn. His eyes flicked between the kitchen clock and the window.  It was ten minutes after seven now.  It wasn’t like his father not to be home by six-thirty without calling to say he’d been delayed at work.  Especially on an evening when Trevor was home alone because Clarice was out of town for the week on a trip with her sisters.

It was seven twenty-five when Trevor saw the Durango coming down their long driveway and making the curve by the house.  He checked the kitchen one last time. The table was set, and one of the casseroles Clarice had made before leaving was in the oven along with dinner rolls Trevor had taken out of the freezer. The chores were also completed, and the Land Rover, Johnny’s personal vehicle, had been washed and vacuumed. The teenager wasn’t foolish enough to think these offerings would appease Johnny, but if nothing else, maybe they would promote some type of good will between Trevor and his father.

The boy bounced from a kitchen chair, to the great room sofa, to one of the recliners, unsure of where he should be sitting when his father entered the house.  By now Trevor knew his mother had called Pops. She wanted Trevor to fly to New York on Saturday, which meant they couldn’t put off telling his father what the plans were.  Or at least that’s what she’d told Trevor during their phone conversation that afternoon. 

Trevor swallowed hard when he heard the back door close.  It seemed like it was taking his father an eternity to remove his boots and step from the laundry room into the kitchen. The boy held his breath, sure the shouting would start the moment Johnny opened the door that led into the kitchen. Therefore, Trevor was surprised when all his father did was look in the great room and ask succinctly, “Supper’s ready?”

     Trevor couldn’t find his voice, so he just nodded.

     “Then let’s eat.”

     The teenager stood. He walked to the kitchen on heavy legs.  He was certain he wouldn’t be able to swallow even one bite of the meal he’d gotten ready until he and his father had hashed out the inevitable.

     But the inevitable didn’t arrive.  Or at least not soon enough as far as Trevor was concerned.  He took the casserole dish out of the oven and set it on a hot pad in the center of the table, then put the rolls in a basket.  Johnny poured milk in the two glasses Trevor had sitting in front of the plates. Trevor waited until his father sat down before taking his own seat across from the man.  He kept his eyes on his plate, risking a glance in his father’s direction every few seconds as he attempted to swallow some food. 

     I just want this to be over.  Why doesn’t he just yell at me and have it done with? 

     Trevor was well aware his father was his custodial parent, so wondered how the man had reacted when his mother had requested Trevor spend the summer with her.  If his father prevented him from going...well, Trevor didn’t know for sure what he’d do, but he knew he could go to court and petition for the right to live with his mother.  He couldn’t imagine doing something like that to the man who had raised him, yet given the current circumstances, he couldn’t imagine going on living with that man, either.

     When Johnny was finished eating he pushed his plate aside.  Unbeknownst to his son, it had taken monumental effort on his part to find any appetite at all.  He’d left the station a few minutes after six, but had spent the next hour driving around Eagle Harbor while trying to decide how to handle this situation.  The trouble was, he still hadn’t come up with a solution. When he finally spoke, he had no idea where the words came from, because he hadn’t thought them out ahead of time.

     “I don’t appreciate you calling your mother about a decision like this without talking to me first.”

The boy who had been dreading this conversation, was glad it had finally begun. “You would have said no.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know you would have.”

“Regardless of what I would have said, if you want to be treated like an adult, then you have to act like one.  An adult doesn’t hide behind his mother’s skirts when he needs to tell his father something.”

“I didn’t hide behind my mother’s skirts!”

Johnny held up a hand to indicate he wasn’t going to tolerate any yelling this evening.

“From my perspective you did, but that’s beside the point. I’m gonna ask you a question, and I want an honest answer.”

“Okay.”

Johnny gazed into the eyes of the child he knew so well. Or at least until recently had known so well.

“Is this really what you wanna do? Do you really wanna live with your mother and Franklin for the summer?”

“Yeah, it’s really what I wanna do.  And...”  the teen’s voice trailed off at the start of a further confession.

“And what?”

“And...and I might wanna live with them longer.”

Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “How much longer?”

“Maybe...maybe all the way through high school.  And...and college, too.” Trevor saw his father’s face darken so he rushed on. “They’ll pay for my college if I live there with them. Mom said so.  It won’t cost you a dime.”

“I’ve never cared that your college education is going to cost me money.  I’ve been saving for it since the day you were born.”

“I know. But it’ll be easier for you this way.”

So you think, Johnny thought with a sorrow so heavy he could no longer stand to be sitting across from this boy he loved so much.

The fire chief stood. 

“Clear the table and then...then start packing.  If you’re gonna leave for New York on Saturday, you’d better take inventory of what you wanna take with you and start getting your stuff together.”

“You mean I can go?”

“You keep telling me I don’t treat you like you’re growing up. So now I am.  Yes, you can go.”

Without another word Johnny left the kitchen. Trevor didn’t turn around, but was able to track his father’s movements nonetheless.  He heard the man walk through the great room, and then up the stairs.  A few seconds later he heard his father’s bedroom door close.

As Trevor picked up the kitchen phone to call his mother and give her the news, he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t experiencing the elation he thought he’d feel at the prospect of living in New York.

Ashton answered the phone on the fourth ring.  Trevor could hear his little sister playing with her nanny in the background.

“Mom?”

“Hi, Trev!”

“Hi.  Listen, Pops. . .Pops said I could come. He said I could stay for the summer and maybe...and maybe longer if I want to. All...all the way through high school, and even through college.”

“Really?  Oh, Trevor, that’s wonderful.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the matter, honey? You don’t sound very happy.”

Trevor glanced toward the stairway and thought of the man who had retreated to his room and shut the door, as though by doing that he could block out the decision his son had made.

“I...I’m happy.” Trevor managed to put a smile in his voice when he assured, “I’m real happy. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Yes, we’ll see you Saturday.  I’ll have your ticket waiting for you in Anchorage, and I’ll e-mail you with the departure time and other details just as soon as I get things squared away.”

“Okay.”

“Trevor, Franklin and I are very happy you’re coming to live with us.”

Live.  For the first time, Trevor realized how permanent that sounded. This wasn’t just a two week visit like he’d been having with his mother since he was three years old.  This was forever. Or at least it could be for the next eleven years until he’d gotten through high school, college, and medical school, which to a young man of fifteen seemed live forever.

“Trevor?”

“Yeah...yeah, Mom. I’m happy, too. Thanks...thanks for letting me come.”

“You’re welcome. Bye, sweetheart. I love you, Trev.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Trevor hung up the phone and spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning up the kitchen.  When the dishwasher was cycling he made his way up the stairs.  He hesitated a long moment before knocking softly on his father’s closed bedroom door. He heard the man’s, “What?”

“Pops, can I come in?”

“Not now, Trev. I’m tired.”

“But it’s only eight o’clock.”

“I know, but I’m tired,” came the answer that was muffled by the barrier the thick oak door made.

“Just for a minute. I just wanna talk to you and explain—“

“Trevor, I’m tired, and I’ve gotta be at a Police and Fire Commission breakfast meeting at six-thirty tomorrow morning.”

Until now, there had never been a time in Trevor’s life when he hadn’t been granted admittance into his father’s room, no matter what the hour, or how early the man had to get up the next morning.

“Oh. Oh...okay. Well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

The boy waited a full minute, and when still no invitation was issued to enter his father’s room, he turned and walked away with his head bowed.

_____________________

Libby,

I’m going to live with my mom. It all happened pretty fast.  Pops didn’t even fight me on it.  He said I could go and that I’d better start packing.  I guess he’s glad to finally have me out of his hair.

Trevor

     Chapter 10

     Trevor’s plane departed from Anchorage at nine on Saturday morning.  Johnny was off-duty that weekend, and had arranged for his deputy chief to come in at noon on Friday so he could leave work early. John hadn’t told anyone about Trevor’s impending departure from Eagle Harbor, but he knew word had gotten around.  Before he’d left for work on Wednesday morning, Johnny had made it clear to Trevor that he had an obligation to speak face to face with Sebastian and Gus in order to let both men know he wasn’t going to be available for the jobs he’d committed to.

     “Your mother might allow you to hide behind her, but you’re not gonna hide behind me.  I expect you to talk to Sebastian and Gus today, and let them know you’re breaking your promise to them.”

     Trevor had been in bed at six on Wednesday morning when Johnny held that conversation with him from the doorway of the teen’s bedroom.

     “I’m not breaking any promise,” the tousle-headed boy had argued.

     “Yes, you are.  When you committed to summer work, in effect, you made a promise. It was your promise, so now it’s up to you to break it. I’m not doin’ your dirty work for you.”

     “Pops—“

     “Today, Trevor. I expect you to talk to both of them today.”

     “Fine!  I will!”

     And so, with that early morning conversation, the tone was set for the last three days the Gage men spent together.  Words spoken in anger alternated with stone cold silence, until finally noontime on Friday arrived, meaning Johnny was leaving the station to go home and pick up his son.  They would be on the road to Anchorage by one, and spend the night in a hotel in the city.  After Trevor caught his plane on Saturday morning Johnny would head back to Eagle Harbor alone.         

     Because Sebastian was Carl Mjtko’s cousin, and because as the chief of police there was little that went on in Eagle Harbor that Carl didn’t know about, the man was aware Trevor was leaving for New York seven weeks earlier than previously scheduled. Sebastian had also told Carl that Trevor had said something about staying in New York for “quite a while.” Whatever that meant, Carl knew it wasn’t good.  His best friend hadn’t been himself since Tuesday afternoon. John had barely said a word since that time, and he’d remained holed up in his office, which was so out of character for John Gage that even the newest members of the police and fire departments had noticed it and were commenting on it.

     “Isn’t Chief feeling good?”  Carl had heard one young man remark.

     “I don’t know,” another one had answered. “But he’s sure been quiet this week.  He’s been that way on and off for about a month now.”

     “Wonder what’s goin’ on?”

     “Beats me.”

     Carl had kept his concerns for John to himself until he spotted the man walking out to his vehicle a couple of minutes after twelve on Friday.  The police chief left his office, jogging down the hallway and out the back door.

     “John! Hey, John!”

     Johnny stopped, as he was about to climb in the Durango.

     When Carl was standing next to his friend, he asked, “Are you okay?”

     “Yeah, I’m fine.”

     “Sebastian told me Trevor’s going to New York for the summer?”

     “Yeah.”

     “And?”

     “And Trevor’s going to New York for the summer.”  Johnny slipped behind the wheel of the Durango. “Listen, Carl, I gotta go.  We’re leaving for Anchorage in an hour.  Trevor’s flyin’ out at nine tomorrow morning.”

     “John—“

Johnny interrupted his friend.  “I’m off for the weekend so I’ll see you on Monday.  Maybe I’ll be in Sunday for a while. Once Trevor’s gone I won’t have much to do at ho...” Johnny paused, as though that thought was too painful to complete. “I might be in on Sunday.”

Before Carl could reply Johnny started the Durango, said, “See ya’,” and drove the vehicle out of the parking lot.

Carl stood there a long moment, only breaking his gaze from the path the Durango had taken when he felt someone standing at his elbow. Johnny’s deputy chief, Phil Marceau, was looking in the same direction Carl had been.

“Things aren’t good at home for him right now,” Phil stated with a certainty that let Carl know he had heard the rumors, too.

“No, they’re not.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t really know.  But whatever it is, it’s tearing him apart.  Trevor’s his whole life, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I just wish Trevor knew it, Phil.” Carl shook his head in a cross between sorrow and frustration as he started walking toward the station.  “I just wish Trevor knew it.”

_____________________

     This was the second time in recent weeks that Trevor had made a long road trip with his father in complete silence.  They were always teased because of how talkative they both were under normal circumstances.  Trevor supposed people who knew them well, like Clarice and Carl, and like Uncle Roy and Aunt Joanne, would find it impossible to believe that Trevor and his father could ride together in a vehicle for ten hours without saying anything to one another.  But, that’s exactly how this trip unfolded.

     Leaving Eagle Harbor hadn’t been as easy as Trevor had thought it would be.  Sebastian had been angry with him for quitting his job on such short notice. Trevor had been scheduled to start working for the man on Thursday morning, and Sebastian let the teenager know he didn’t find this sudden change of heart to be the sign of a responsible young man.  Kylee had cried and begged him not to go. His other friends were sad to see him go as well, though several of them, like Connor and Jake, thought living in New York sounded pretty cool.  Gus hadn’t been angry with Trevor, for which the teen was grateful.  Gus had even told Trevor he’d always have a job with him, no matter how far he traveled from Eagle Harbor, or how long it might be before he returned.

     “But I’m not sure I’m coming back, Gus,” Trevor had said to the man on Wednesday afternoon while they sat together in Gus’s messy office at the little airport.

     Gus had smiled and winked like he knew some secret Trevor wasn’t privy too.  “You’ll be back.”

     “How do you know?”

     “Because Alaska is in your blood, boy.  In the long run, you won’t be happy anywhere else.”

     “I think I’ll be happy in New York.  I’ve been there before, you know.”

     “I know.  But goin’ there for a visit is a lot different from goin’ there to live.”

     “Maybe.”

     “Trust old Gus on this one, Trevor.  You’ll be back.  Besides, what would your pops do without you?”

Trevor scowled. “He’ll be fine without me.”

“I wouldn’t bet money on that if I was you, Trev.  But, you go ahead and spread your wings.  Never hurts a young man to see what the grass is like on the other side of the fence.  That’s what it takes sometimes, for a boy your age to discover where home really is.”

     “New York can be my home just as easily as Eagle Harbor can be.”

     Gus had laughed at that remark, but made no direct comment to it, leaving Trevor unsure as to what was so funny. The pilot stood and walked Trevor to the door while telling him goodbye and wishing him good luck.

     The journey to Anchorage was a long one.  They’d stopped once to eat, and once to put gas in the Land Rover. By the time Trevor and his father were settled in their hotel room for the night it was eleven forty-five.  Whenever they’d shared a hotel room in the past during a trip, Pops had always sprung for snacks from hallway vending machines, and they’d laid in their beds watching TV. Oftentimes they even took a late night dip in the hotel’s swimming pool, which had always been fun, because due to the hour, it was completely empty of any other patrons.  But that last night father and son were together, the simple things they’d enjoyed in the past appeared to be over.  Johnny stripped down to his boxers and climbed in one bed, while Trevor did the same and climbed into the other. 

     The only thing Johnny said to his son was, “Make sure the alarm is set for six. We’ll have to be out of here by seven if we’re gonna eat breakfast before you catch your plane.” 

     “Pops?“

     Johnny was already under the covers with his back to his son.

     “What?”

     Trevor looked around the dim room.  The only light came from the lamp that sat on the nightstand between the two double beds.

     “Doncha’...uh...doncha’ wanna watch some TV with me?”

     “No. No TV.  It’s late and I’m tired.”

     “Pops—“ came the entreaty that practically begged Johnny to open up and talk to the boy, who simply wanted some assurances that leaving Eagle Harbor, and his father, was the right thing to do.

     “Look, you’ve been telling me for six months now that I’m old.  Well, okay, I am.  I’m an old man and I’m tired.  We have to be up early.  Shut the light off and let’s get some sleep.”

     Trevor stared at is father’s back while shaking his head. “You don’t even care, do you?”

     “Care about what? Watching TV?  No, I don’t care about watching TV right at this moment.”

     “No, not about watching TV.”

     “Then what?”

     “Never mind,” Trevor snapped. “I got my answer.”

     “Good, then shut off the light.”

     “Fine. I will.”

     Trevor did as his father instructed, then burrowed beneath his own covers. Unbeknownst to one another, father and son laid awake a long time that night. Trevor was certain that after fifteen years of single parenthood ,his father was happy to be on the brink of release from that responsibility, while Johnny just wanted to wrap his son in his arms and never let him go. But, because John and Trevor Gage were cut from the same cloth in so many ways, both were too stubborn to talk this situation out, or admit their hurts and uncertainties over Trevor’s decision. A few short hours later, the alarm was ringing, signaling the start of the day in which Trevor Roy Gage would leave the man who had raised him.

   _____________________

     The last thing Johnny wanted to happen on the morning Trevor was leaving him was to get in an argument with his son.  But despite the fire chief’s resolve, that’s exactly what occurred.  How it started, or why, Johnny wasn’t sure.  Later, he would look back and realize they were both tired and under stress. However, at that time, all Johnny saw was the son he cherished wanting to flee his presence as quickly as possible.  Somehow the issue of college came up at breakfast, and all it took was for Trevor to mention once again that Ashton and Franklin were going to pay for his college education if he stayed in New York.  Before the comment in response was out of Johnny’s mouth, he knew he shouldn’t say it, but the hurt he was feeling was too overwhelming, and he could no longer listen to the common sense that was telling him to keep quiet.

     “Sounds like a bribe if you ask me,” Johnny said as he took a bite of his eggs.

     Trevor glared at his father from across the table.  At this early hour on a Saturday morning, the hotel’s dining room was empty with the exception of Johnny and Trevor, and then an elderly couple in a booth that was tucked in a far back corner.

     “It’s not a bribe.”

     “I never said it was.  I just said it sounded like one.”

     “Well, it’s not.”

     “So you say.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “Nothing. Forget it.”

     “No, I’m not gonna forget it.”

     “Trevor Roy, I’m gettin’ tired of telling you to watch your tone of voice.  And I said, forget it. Just drop it.”

     “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

     “Jealous of what?”

     “Of Mom.  You’re jealous ‘cause Mom makes more money than you do.”

     “I am not,” Johnny denied of one problem that had, in truth, been a negative factor in his relationship with Ashton.

     “Yes, you are.  You’re jealous ‘cause she’s a doctor and you’re just a fireman.”

     In all his years as Trevor’s father, Johnny had never been just a fireman to his son.  He’d been what every father wanted to be to his boy – a hero. And certainly being a hero in Trevor’s eyes was a direct result of the line of work Johnny did on a daily basis.  But now he heard the disdain in the boy’s voice, as though when comparing Johnny’s career to Ashton’s, Johnny ended up so far out in left field that he had no hope of seeing the pitcher’s mound, let alone home plate.

     “Trevor—“

     “That’s exactly what your problem is,” Trevor said. He lashed out, giving no thought to his words, for the same reason his father had given no thought to his words a few seconds earlier. “Mom went to college and you didn’t.  Mom’s a doctor. Everyone in New York knows her. A lot of doctors around the world know her. She’s written papers, and given lectures, and taught classes, and—“

     “Yes, I know what you mother has done.”

     “So?”

     “So what?

     “What have you done that even comes close to comparing to that?”

Trevor threw his cloth napkin down on the table before his father could answer.  He stomped out of the restaurant and headed for the Land Rover.

Johnny watched his son go.  When he saw Trevor get in the vehicle and slam the door, he put his fork down and pushed the plate aside that still contained three quarters of his breakfast.  He cradled his forehead in his right hand and thought in response to his son’s question, What have I done?  What I’ve done is love you, is take care of you, is provide a good home for you, build my whole life around you. Until today, I always thought that was enough.  Until today, I never thought I could give you anything, anything at all, that was more important to you than those things, that was more important to you than your father’s love. But I guess I was wrong. 

Johnny wiped the pain from his features before he stood to pay the bill.  When he arrived at the Land Rover, Trevor refused to acknowledge him. The teenager stared out the passenger side window, while Johnny started the vehicle and backed it out of the parking space.

   _____________________

     Johnny supposed it was just as well that he and Trevor didn’t have the opportunity to talk once they reached the airport.  By the time Trevor’s luggage had been checked in and he’d gotten his ticket from the United Airlines counter, an announcement came over the PA system that his plane was boarding.  Johnny walked with his son to the mouth of the concourse.  They looked at one another with an awkwardness and uncertainty that had never before been a part of their relationship.  It was Johnny who finally broke the silence between them.

     “Behave yourself.”

     “I will.”

     “Be careful.”

     “I will.”

     “Call me when you get there.”

     “Okay.”   

     “If you...if you change your mind at any time and wanna come back, let me know and I’ll—“

     “I’m not gonna change my mind,” Trevor declared with a sharp-edged vehemence. “I’m not coming back.”

     Johnny gave a slow nod of his head.  “All right.”

     “Tell...tell Clarice I said goodbye.”

     “I will,” Johnny promised.

     When the announcement was made for the final boarding, Trevor turned to go. Johnny grabbed his son and spun him around. He enfolded the boy in his arms and kissed the top of his head. It wasn’t lost on the man that the hug wasn’t returned.  As soon as Johnny released him, Trevor said a quick, “See ya’, Pops,” and disappeared down the concourse without looking back.

     John Gage stood at the wide picture window and watched until Trevor’s plane took off.  Long after the 747 had disappeared amongst the clouds, Johnny remained staring after it, as though he could will his son to return to him. As the waiting area began to fill with people preparing to board another flight, John turned and walked away.  He got in the Land Rover and drove back to Eagle Harbor alone.

     Chapter 11

     As he’d told Carl he might, Johnny ended up at the fire station on Sunday.  After eating breakfast and taking care of the animals, he had nothing else to do at home, and the house was too quiet for his liking.  Even Boys in Bondage blaring from Trevor’s stereo would have been welcome when compared to the house devoid of the young man who had brought so much life to it.

     Johnny returned home at four o’clock that afternoon.  He took a ride on his horse, Omaha, and then did the necessary chores.  After Johnny had washed up at the laundry room sink, he warmed his supper in the microwave and ate it in front of the television set, something he hadn’t done since before he and Ashton had moved in together. Which, to the fire chief, only further emphasized that he was living alone again for the first time in over twenty years.

     Johnny had just deposited his dirty dishes in the dishwasher when the phone rang.  He picked up the portable in the kitchen, not able to quell the rush of anticipation that came when he thought this might be Trevor.  His son had called as promised after he’d arrived in New York on Saturday, but the call had been made from Ashton’s BMW on her cell phone, and the connection had been poor.  Not to mention that Trevor hadn’t been interested in saying more than, “I got here okay,” before turning the phone over to his mother, who assured Johnny that Trevor had arrived safely and all was well.  They were in a rush because they were taking Trevor to dinner and had tickets to see a play.

     He just got off the plane and already he’s being wined and dined, had been Johnny’s bitter thoughts as he broke the connection with Ashton.

     The fire chief tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice when his Sunday evening caller wasn’t Trevor, but instead, was Roy DeSoto.

     “Johnny?”

     Johnny walked over to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.  “Hi, Roy.”

     “Hi, yourself.  Listen...are you...Johnny, are you okay?”

     “Yeah. Why?”

     “Libby...uh...Trevor’s told Libby some...some things recently in the e-mails he’s sent her.”

     “Oh. Like what a rotten father I am? Or how I’m so old someone might as well put me in a grave and throw dirt on top of me? Or how I’m too strict and won’t let him do all the things his friends’ parents let them do?”

     “Johnny—-“

     Johnny rubbed his forehead, trying to bring relief to the stress headache that had been present since Tuesday evening.

     “Roy, I don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “Yeah, I’m sure.”

     “All right.  But when you do, you know my number.”

     “Yeah, I know your number. Thanks.”

     “You’re welcome. So...uh...what are you doing?”

     “Nothin’ much.  Just finished eating.  Spent the day at the station.  Just...nothin’ much. Guess that’s what my days will be filled with from now on.”

     Roy mulled over his friend’s words, not missing the pain behind them.  Every father had to face the day when his child left home for good, but given the situation in the Gage household, Johnny hadn’t had time to emotionally prepare for this event. Nor did he have a spouse to turn to for support in the way Roy and Joanne had been able to turn to one another as each of their children had left home throughout the years.

     Roy thought a moment longer, then asked, “Do you have any extra vacation time?”

     “I’ve got about three weeks that I haven’t scheduled yet, why?”

     “Chet’s bought himself a second house and—“

     “Oh, God,” Johnny moaned, “Don’t say the words ‘Chet’ and ‘house’ in the same sentence to me.”

     Roy laughed. “Well, I know you did have a streak of bad luck when it came to Chet’s house, but—“

     “Streak of bad luck?  That house damn near killed me.”

     “I don’t think it was the house, as much as it was a long string of odd coincidences.”

     “You wouldn’t say that if you were the guy who’d been poisoned, then had a piece of glass pierce his chest, then got blown to high heaven, all in a matter of a few months.”

     “That’s true, I probably wouldn’t say it. But listen, Chet bought a vacation home up by Jackson Lake, and he’s asked me to go there with him and Marco for a week in mid-July in order to start fixing it up.  Why don’t you join us?”

     “But I’m due to come to your place later in July.”

     “Yeah, so?  We’ll go to Jackson Lake, then drive back down here. You can stay as long as you want to.”

     Despite Johnny’s aversion to working on another home owned by Chet Kelly, he had to admit the thought of getting out of Eagle Harbor for a couple of weeks was appealing. Maybe some different scenery, and a house where Trevor’s presence wasn’t so strong, would do him some good. Not to mention that spending a week with Chet, Marco, and Roy, would allow Johnny to mentally revisit a time when he was twenty-five, despite the fact that his son didn’t think there ever had been a time when his father was young.

     “You know, maybe I will.”

     “Really?”

     “Yeah. I’ll call Chet and get all the details, then I’ll take a look at my work calendar and see if I can take the time off.”

     “Great. This will be just like old times, huh?”

     “Yeah, Pally.  It’ll be just like old times.” For the first time in a week, Johnny smiled. “Exactly like old times.”

Chapter 12

     Trevor didn’t have much time to think about Eagle Harbor, or his father, the first two weeks he was in New York. His mother had taken off work to help him settle in, as she put it. Therefore, Trevor’s initial stay didn’t differ much from past years when he visited his mother and Franklin for fourteen days each summer. They went to plays, and the Museum of Natural History, to Staten Island, to Ellis Island, and climbed to the top of the Statue of Liberty. They ate at any restaurant Trevor chose, and saw any movie he suggested, even R-rated movies that Trevor knew his father would have refused to take him to.  Trevor and his mom made numerous circuits of Central Park on new Roller Blades Ashton had purchased when Trevor expressed a desire in having a pair, while three-year-old Catherine played on a swing-set, tended to by her Filipino nanny, Malaya.

     The third week Trevor was in New York, day-to-day routine returned to his mother’s household. Trevor had never spent more than a night or two in the opulent apartment his mother and Franklin owned across from Central Park. Normally, his visits had involved just one or two days in the city, and then the remainder of the time was spent on Franklin’s estate in the Hamptons. The bedroom in the apartment that had been used for guests was now considered Trevor’s. Down the hall were two smaller bedrooms, one that housed Catherine, and right next door to it, one that housed Malaya. Ashton and Franklin had a master suite on the other end of the apartment.

     “We can decorate this room any way you want to, Trev,” Ashton had told her son when he’d first arrived.  The room was masculine enough in appearance, with oak paneling running from the floor to halfway up the wall, and capped by an oak chair rail. Above that hung wallpaper that depicted English aristocrats on a fox hunt.   The curtains, pillows and quilted comforter were striped in burgundy and hunter green, but Ashton wanted Trevor to make the room his own in whatever way he desired.

     Trevor had nodded as he hung his shirts, and the one pair of black dress pants he’d brought along, plus a tie, in the closet. While he stowed jeans, khaki trousers, sweatshirts and sweaters in the oak highboy he said, “Maybe I can ask Pops to send me my planes.”

     “Your planes?”

     “Yeah.  From my room at home,” Trevor explained, realizing then that his mother had never seen his room at home, and probably knew little about his interest in aviation beyond what he had mentioned in passing the last time he’d visited.

     “Oh, your planes.  Sure.  Your father’s told me how much you’d like to fly someday.”  

     “He has?” Trevor had turned around to look at his mother. He hadn’t been aware that his father ever discussed anything with his mother pertaining to him, beyond travel arrangements each year for his summer stay.

     “Yes, several times, as a matter of fact.”

     “Oh,” the surprised boy responded, all the while trying not to sound surprised. “And did he tell you he won’t let me take flying lessons?”

     “No, he never mentioned that.”

     “Well, he won’t. He says I have to wait until I’m eighteen. But, now that I’m living with you, maybe I could take them sooner.”

Trevor was shocked when his mother shook her head. She so rarely refused him anything he wanted, or told him no, that this was a new experience for him where she was concerned.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but if your father says no, then I have to say no as well.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s your custodial parent.”

“But I’m living with you now.”

“That’s true, but I can never fault your father for the job he’s done when it comes to raising you.  Granted, I don’t know the reasons why he’s making you wait until you’re eighteen to take flying lessons, but if that’s what he’s said, then I’ll abide by it.”

“But—“

“Trevor, I respect your father too much to go against a decision as big as this one.”

Ashton had smiled then, while running a hand through her son’s hair. “Eighteen isn’t that far off, honey. It will be here before you know it.”

Because he’d never argued with his mother, Trevor kept his thoughts to himself. After all, he’d had the same argument over flying lessons with his father, and look at where it had gotten him.  If he argued with his mother and they became angry at one another, where else did he have left to go?

The teenager had glanced around the room then, deciding it was best not to tell his mom that the luxuries in here of telephone, thirty-six inch TV set, DVD player, and computer with a cable connection to the Internet, were not things he was allowed to have in his room at home.

No, not ‘at home,’ Trevor thought. This is home now. 

If Trevor had said those words out loud, he would have realized how much it sounded as though he was trying to convince himself of that fact.

By the time Trevor’s third week in New York was rolling into his fourth week there, he had the routine of his new household memorized.  It didn’t take a lot of brain capacity to get it down.  Mom left for the hospital at six a.m., and often didn’t return until ten at night. A Jamaican woman named Deborah arrived every weekday afternoon at one and stayed until seven. She cleaned the apartment, did laundry, and fixed supper. Franklin left at eight, and usually wasn’t back until mid-afternoon, though sometimes he didn’t return until after Malaya, Trevor, and Catherine had eaten their evening meal. Trevor knew that on some days his stepfather was teaching classes, but on other days, he wasn’t sure where the man went.  He’d overheard snatches of conversation between Franklin and his mom that included the words, “golf,” and “tennis,” and “country club,” so he assumed his stepfather spent a lot of free time at the country club the man belonged to. 

When Franklin was home, he was generally in his study writing a paper, or talking on the phone, or preparing for the classes he taught, or watching CNN, or engrossed in the Wall Street Journal because he was quite adept at investing in the stock market.  Trevor had always gotten along well with the man, but the teen was beginning to see that his two-week visits each year had been treated as though they were a special event, simply because they were.  Now that Trevor was a permanent member of the household, Franklin had no desire to alter his routine for Trevor’s benefit, any more than he appeared to alter his routine for the benefit of his three-year-old daughter.  Trevor knew Franklin was seventy-five, which he figured was pretty old to be the father of a toddler. Actually, when compared to Franklin, Trevor’s own father now seemed young. Not to mention that Franklin had grown children and grandchildren of his own, and had two great grandchildren a few years older than Catherine.  From what Trevor had observed, Malaya was the one raising his little sister, not her parents. Which was far different from how Trevor’s own upbringing had taken place.  Granted, Clarice was considered his nanny, he supposed. Or at least when he was younger she had been.  But, whenever his father was off-duty, Clarice wasn’t in their home. His father took over the household responsibilities then, including taking care of all Trevor’s needs.  And even when his father was on-duty at the fire station, there wasn’t a day that went by that Trevor didn’t see the man on the way home from school, and during summer vacations Trevor and Clarice had always stopped at the fire station just to say hello when they were in Eagle Harbor grocery shopping or doing other errands.  And when his father worked a twenty-four hour shift, he never failed to call home to say goodnight before Trevor went to bed.  So far, Trevor’s mother hadn’t done this, for either Trevor’s sake, nor for the sake of her small daughter.

So, in moving to New York, Trevor Gage finally had everything he had wanted. Items in his bedroom his father refused to allow him to have in his bedroom at home, freedom from parental control and supervision, and for the most part, a mother who said yes to any request he made of her. 

As Trevor leaned back on his bed in the middle of a sunny afternoon in early July and aimed the remote control at the TV set, he sighed with boredom and wondered why having everything he wanted wasn’t a very satisfying feeling after all.

_________________

Hi Libby,

I’ve been having a lot of fun here in New York.  My mom gives me everything I want, and she’s not strict like Pops. It doesn’t feel like home yet, though, but I think it will soon.

Trevor

Chapter 13

After Trevor’s initial call home on the Saturday he arrived in New York City, Johnny spoke to his son once a week. The first two weeks the teenager was in New York, the phone calls entailed Trevor telling Johnny of all the fun things he’d been doing with his mother, and all the places he’d been to and the sights he’d seen.  This reminded Johnny of other years when Trevor was with Ashton for his annual two week visit, and wondered when the vacation atmosphere would change, and how Trevor would handle it when that happened. 

When June turned to July, Johnny could sense a change in his son. In many ways, their conversations were stilted and awkward, a reflection, Johnny supposed, of their last day together and the hurtful words they’d exchanged.  Nonetheless, beneath Trevor’s reticence, Johnny picked up on what he perceived to be unhappiness. Several times he asked Trevor what was wrong, and on those occasions he was always told, “Nothing.”

“Are you happy living with your Mom and Franklin? ‘Cause if you’re not, you know you can always come back here, no questions asked.  I’ll make arrang—“

“Pops, I’m happy, okay?  Why wouldn’t I be?  I have everything I’ve ever wanted.  I even have a TV and phone in my room.”

“Well, golly gee, what more could you ask for?”

“Don’t be sarcastic.  If you wanna talk to me, don’t be that way.”

“Trevor—“

“Pops, I mean it.  I’m not gonna talk to you if you’re gonna be all jealous of Mom, and what I have here.”

Johnny started to say, “I’m not jealous,” because he wasn’t.  He no more wanted the lifestyle Ashton led than he wanted the bubonic plague. But he knew that to tell his son that, to scoff at Ashton and her wealth and success, would only start another argument, so he let the subject drop.  Two days later he got a hold of Ashton in her office.

“John? What can I do for you?  I’ve got patients to see, so if we can keep this brief I’d appreciate it.”

“What you can do for me is tell me how Trevor is.”

“He’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Ashton had laughed a bit then. “Why? Do you think I’ve lost him somewhere?”

Yeah, Ashton, I do. You lost him a long time ago when you were too busy to be his mother.

“What I mean is,” Johnny clarified, “is he happy?  Does he seem happy to you?”

“Happy?”

“Trevor hasn’t sounded like himself the last couple of times I’ve talked to him.  Ever since you went back to work after your vacation.”

“He’s happy,” Ashton said with a strong note of defense to her voice. 

“Are you home enough to even know?”

“Touché, John. You just had to make sure you got that in, didn’t you?”

“I’m not questioning your parenting skills.  I’m just asking if you’re home enough to know whether or not our son is happy.”

“I’m a cardiac surgeon, John, you know that.  I teach classes, I keep office hours, I’m on staff at a hospital. So no, I’m not home nearly as much as I would be if I were a part time counter girl at Burger King.  But I didn’t go through twelve years of school to work at Burger King and—“

“Look, I’m not arguing with you over your career, or the hours you work.  Since you married Franklin, and not me, that’s none of my concern.  All I’m trying to find out is whether or not Trevor’s okay.  If he wants to come back home, I’ll buy him a ticket and get him here.”

Overall, Ashton felt no sense of competition with Johnny for Trevor’s love. She’d always been at peace with the decision she’d made, and she’d always felt that Johnny would do a better job of raising the boy than she could. But now he was questioning her about how she ran her household and the hours she put in at work, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like it one bit, because it reminded her too much of the circumstances that brought their relationship to an end fifteen years earlier.

“If by home you mean Eagle Harbor, Trevor doesn’t want to go back there. He says you’re too strict.  As far as I know, he’s perfectly happy living here with Franklin and me.”

“Oh, really?  And did you check in with your nanny to find that out?”

With that, Johnny slammed down the phone.  This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted Trevor to live with his mother.  A two week visit was one thing, but the lack of parental supervision that Johnny suspected existed in Ashton’s household was another. 

Trevor could disappear for days and God only knows how long it would be before Ashton would realize he was gone.         

The worry and stress Johnny was experiencing was taking its toll on him. He wasn’t sleeping well, his appetite was almost non-existent, and he was plagued by headaches.

Like Johnny had told Roy he would, he had talked to Chet and arranged to meet the guys in Fresno on Sunday afternoon, July 15th.  They were to pick him up at the airport, and from there, head to Chet’s vacation home.  The following week Johnny would spend at Roy and Joanne’s, before flying back to Eagle Harbor on Sunday, the 29th of July.  Now Johnny realized an additional week, a solitary week of some sort, was needed. Carl and Clarice had dropped enough hints that let him know they thought so too. With Trevor gone, Clarice didn’t spend as much time in Johnny’s house as she had in the past, but he kept her on a couple of days a week to clean and do laundry. Without it being spoken, Johnny knew both he and Clarice hoped Trevor would come back to Eagle Harbor, and that her role as his surrogate grandmother could continue until he went off to college.

It was after he’d hung up on Ashton that Johnny called Chet for a second time in three weeks.  When Chet’s voice came over the line, Johnny said, “Hey, Chet, how about sending me a key to your new place, along with a map that shows me how to find it.”

“What?  Gage, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m gonna take the week of July 8^th off, too, so I figured as long as I’ve got nothin’ better to do, I might as well head to your place and get started on some things.”

“But I can’t be there that week.  Marco’s got a couple of big banquets, and I promised him I’d help serve.”

“Do you wear a hair net when you do that, Kelly?”

“Shut up, Gage.”

Johnny chuckled at the bickering that went back thirty-five years, to the first day he and Chet had met at Station 51.  “Bet you’re cute with a hair net on.”

“Gage, you’d better stow it, or the Phantom just might come out of retirement.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.  Listen, you don’t need to be there.  Just send me a key and a map, and I’ll get things started.”

“But what about your animals?”

“I had already hired Dylan and Dalton – a couple of teenagers who live near me  – to take care of ‘em the two weeks I was gonna be gone. I’m sure I can hire them for an additional week.”

“But I wasn’t gonna have any of the materials delivered until the morning of the 16th.”

“So, have them delivered a week earlier. I’ll fly into Fresno on Sunday the 8th, rent a car, and drive to your place.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yep.”

“But what about Trevor?  Is he gonna wanna be stuck up there for two weeks, and then another week at Roy’s besides?”

“Trevor’s not...he won’t be with me.”

“Why? Roy said Trev was comin’ with you for the reunion picnic like he always does, and then flying out to—“

“Trevor’s living in New York now, Chet.”

“Come again?”

“Trevor’s living with his mother.”

“Why?”

“He just is.”

“Johnny—“

“Chet, he just is. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

“But—“

“Chet, talking to you is like talking to my son. There always has to be a ‘but’ involved.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.  I was just wondering; that’s all.”

“Well, quit wondering and send me a key and a map.  You got a piece of paper and a pen?”

“Why?”

“To write down my address, stupid.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, right.  Just a minute.”

Johnny listened as Chet fumbled through a kitchen drawer until he found a pad of paper and a pen. Johnny gave the man his home address, then said, “All right. I’ll be there sometime on the 8th, then see you guys the next Sunday.  Just tell me where you want me to start.”

“Well, the place needs a good cleaning. You know, airing out, sweeping, that sort of thing.  I guess that’s the best place to start if we’re gonna be sleeping and eating there for a week.”

“Will do.”

“Ryan and I have already made one trip up there.  There’s a combination laundry room/bathroom off the kitchen with a utility closet.  I’ve got a broom and dustpan in there, along with a vacuum cleaner, a mop, a bucket, Mr. Clean, Lysol, bleach, Windex, paper towels, rubber gloves, rags...you name it, it should be there.  If there’s something you need that’s not in that closet, go to a store and get it. I’ll pay you back when I see you.”

“You bet you will.”

“That’s what I love about you, Gage, still a royal cheapskate.”

“Some things never change, Kelly.”

“No kidding,” Chet agreed as he the thought back to the time Johnny thought he’d overspent when a dinner date cost him eight dollars and forty-two cents.

“Doesn’t sound like I’ll need anything, though. You’ve got it pretty well stocked in the way of cleaning supplies.”

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned after two divorces, it’s this. Before your old lady kicks you out, you take everything you can get your hands on, ‘cause once the judge gives her the house you can kiss anything you left behind goodbye.”

“Two divorces?  What are you talkin’ about?”

“Roy didn’t mention anything about me and Bonnie?”

“No.”

“In that case, I’ll tell you about it when I see you. Believe me, Gage, given your reluctance to part with cash, you aren’t gonna wanna pay the long distance charges to hear my tale about the marriage from hell.”

“You told me your first marriage was the marriage from hell.”

“It was.  This was the sequel.”

Johnny laughed. “I see.  Well, if nothin’ else, it’ll be an interesting story after a long day and a couple of beers.”

“Interesting it is,” Chet confirmed. “But, Johnny, are sure you wanna do all that work – cleaning my place up - by yourself? Fly down here on the 8th and spend that week with Roy, then ride up to Jackson Lake with the rest of us on the 15th.”

“I’m not afraid of a little work.”

“I know that, but—“

“Chet, I want to, or I wouldn’t have called you.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“I say so.”

“All right. The house came with a fridge, stove, washer and dryer, so make use of anything you need to.”

“Thanks. Does all that stuff work?”

“Beats me.”

“You mean you didn’t check any of it before you bought the house?”

“No. Should I have?”

“Chet, I can’t believe you.“

“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s not like I bought the house for the refrigerator, you know.”

Johnny sighed.  “Whatever.”

“There’s a bedroom on the main floor you can bunk in.  Roy can share it with you when we get up there. Me, Marco, and Ryan can bunk in the loft.”

“Sounds good.”

 “Okay...well, listen, thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And hey, Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever...whatever the problem is between you and Trevor...well, keep the faith that it’ll work out.  I had a couple of rocky roads with my boys, but we got through them.”

“Yeah, but did they ever move to the other side of the country in order to get away from you?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Forget it.  Just send me the key, and I’ll see you on the 15th.”

“Sure, Johnny.  I’ll mail it tomorrow, along with a map. And if you change your mind, just—“

“I won’t change my mind. Thanks, Chet. Bye.”

When the connection was broken, Chet sat staring at the phone. He thought a moment, and then punched in Roy’s number. When Roy answered, Chet, with his usual lack of tact, asked, “Hey, Roy, what the hell is going on with Johnny and Trevor?”

Chapter 14

     Trevor spent July 4th, 5th, and 6th, at Franklin’s estate in the Hamptons. When he and his family returned to New York, the routine of long, boring days returned with it.  No longer could Trevor walk out his back door and smell the fresh scent of the pine trees, or not hear any sound at all except the slight rustling of leaves.  The barn was no longer in his backyard, meaning the pleasure he’d always derived from his animals, be it horse, dog, cat, or rabbit, was now missing from his life.  Granted, Central Park was across the street, but Trevor was beginning to realize how silly it was for Malaya to have to take Catherine to a park to play, when Trevor had always been able to play on the same kind of equipment right in his own backyard. Trevor had strolled the sidewalks many days since he’d arrived here, at first fascinated by the sights and sounds that were foreign to his everyday existence, but soon found himself growing weary of the noise, exhaust fumes, and people always in a hurry to get somewhere.

     The same Sunday Johnny was leaving Alaska bound for Fresno, Trevor got a job. Money wasn’t the motive. His mother gave him more than he could spend each week as an allowance for doing absolutely nothing.  Which, to Trevor’s way of thinking, was odd, because Pops had raised him to believe that through hard work, you earned what you were awarded in life.  His allowance at home had always been tied to the barn chores he did, and to assisting in the house when it came to making his bed, cleaning up the kitchen, folding laundry, and emptying the garbage cans. 

     Not knowing what he was qualified to do in New York, like he knew what he was capable of doing at home in Alaska, Trevor decided to apply at the Gap clothing store a few blocks from his mother’s apartment.  He knew Libby liked working at the Gap store near Uncle Roy’s neighborhood, so he figured he’d give it a try. He’d gone to the interview dressed in clean, pressed khakis, a navy blue polo shirt, and a pair of black dress shoes. He made sure to print neatly and legibly on the application, and even had Gus’s name, address, and phone number in his wallet so he could put the man down as a reference.  Trevor was surprised when the manager hired him at the end of his interview.  She said his good manners, outgoing personality, and clean-cut look had impressed her. He was to start at nine the next morning. 

     The teenager left the store and turned in the opposite direction from his mother’s apartment. It was eighty-two degrees and sunny.  He had no reason to hurry home where the only thing for him to do was watch TV or surf the Net.  Franklin was at the country club, and Trevor’s mom was working. More than likely Malaya had Catherine at the park, and if she didn’t, then the three-year-old would be at home demanding whatever it was she wanted at that moment. Trevor’s little sister was a beautiful child; there was no doubting that.  Her golden curls and large, sky blue eyes immediately drew people to her.  But now that she was getting older, Trevor found her to be spoiled and bratty.  He’d tried to establish a relationship with her when he’d first arrived, but she was a hard little girl to like. 

     Maybe if Mom or Franklin, or Malaya, told her no once in a while it would make a difference.  Catherine gets everything she wants, and if she doesn’t, she throws a fit.  Someone needs to whack that kid a good one on the butt.

     Trevor knew his thoughts were a reflection of his own upbringing, but he would have denied it had anyone asked.

     The teenager stopped at a stand and bought himself two hotdogs and a Coke. He spotted a coffee house up ahead with tables and chairs outside.  No one asked him to leave when he sat at an empty table and ate his lunch, even though that lunch had been purchased elsewhere. 

     When Trevor was finished eating, he sat for a few minutes enjoying the outdoors. Or at least enjoying it as much as possible given the large volume of traffic going by on the busy street next to him. His eyes tracked a snorkel truck as it went by without lights or sirens on.  He watched as the engineer turned right at the next block. 

     Out of curiosity, and maybe out of a bit of homesickness, Trevor stood and followed the path the truck had taken.  He tossed his garbage in a trash barrel and headed for the crosswalk at the intersection.

     When he arrived at to the first fire station he saw, Trevor peered around the vast space made by the open garage doors. The apparatus bay was huge compared to the one at Eagle Harbor, and rose twenty-five feet above the boy’s head.  He could hear the familiar sound of men laughing and joking with one another, the banter and playful bickering of firefighters having been something he’d grown up with.  The smells of diesel fuel, motor oil, damp concrete, Turtle Wax, and canvas, mixed together and made the boy homesick in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible. He glanced to his right and saw a long row of hooks that held turnout coats, bunker pants, and helmets.  Boots were lined up beneath them like dutiful soldiers waiting to be taken into battle.

     “Hi there, young man.”

     Trevor looked at the man approaching from his left.

     “Hi, Captain.”

     The man smiled at the way the boy had recognized his rank based on the insignia on his uniform shirt.

     “What can I do for you?” Captain Richard Blain asked.  They were used to having local children pop into the firehouse every now and then, though usually they were younger than this boy.  But, on occasion, a teenager would come by and want to know how he went about applying for a job with the department after high school graduation. “Looking for a job?”

     “Are you hiring?” Trevor asked, thinking that working here would be a heck of a lot more exciting than working at the Gap.

     Blain laughed. “Well, not unless you’re eighteen.”

     “Oh.”

     “How old are you?”

     “Fifteen.”

     “You’ve got a few years to go yet, then, before the department would consider taking you on.”

     “”Yeah, that’s what I figured. Back home I’ll be old enough to be on my father’s volunteer force next May when I turn sixteen.”

     “Really?”

     “Yeah. I won’t be able to go into a burning structure or anything like that, but I’ll be able to help man the hoses outside, or help take care of hotspots after the main blaze is out.”

Based on the verbiage Trevor had used, the captain realized this kid knew what he was talking about.

“Where are you from?”

     “Eagle Harbor, Alaska.”

     “And your dad’s the captain of a fire station there?”

     “Actually, he’s the fire chief. He’s the fire chief and the paramedic chief. I think here in New York you call a paramedic chief the Chief of Emergency Medical Services.”

     “We do, but it means the same thing. Sounds like your dad is a pretty experienced guy.”

     “Yeah,” Trevor nodded. “He’s been a firefighter for forty years now. He started out right after high school as a volunteer fireman for a little station in the town where he grew up in Montana. Then he was a firefighter and paramedic in Los Angeles for about fifteen years. After that, he worked as a paramedic and paramedic instructor for the Denver Fire Department until I was a year old.  We moved to Eagle Harbor then, when he got hired for the job as chief there.”

     The captain looked over Trevor’s shoulder. “So is your dad with you?”

     “No, I’m visiting my...I live here with my mom now.”

     “Oh. Well, would you like a tour of the station?”

     “You don’t mind?”

     “No, I don’t mind.”

     “Sure.”

     The man held out his hand. “I’m Rich Blain.  And you’re?”

     Trevor shook the captain’s hand. “Trevor. Trevor Gage.  Nice to meet you, Captain Blain.”

     “Nice to meet you, too, Trevor Gage. Come on, we’ll go upstairs first and let you slide down the pole if you want to.”

     Trevor’s eyes lit up. “I’ve never been in a fire station that has a pole before.  The first station my pops worked at in L.A. had one. He always says a fire station just isn’t a fire station without a pole.”

     “Well, he’s right,” the captain agreed as he led Trevor toward the stairway that would take them to the dorm and locker room.  He called to his men, “Hey, guys! This is Trevor Gage.  His dad’s the chief of a department in Alaska.  Say hi.”

     “Hi, Trevor.”

     “Hi, Trevor!”

     “Hey, kid.”

     “Hey, little chief.”

     Trevor smiled at that last remark. That’s exactly what the members of his father’s department back home called him.

     Trevor spent three hours at Station 83 that afternoon, and when he finally left to go back to his mother’s apartment, Captain Blain issued him an invitation to return whenever he wanted to. For the first time since leaving Alaska, Trevor felt like he’d found a place to call home.

______________

     Trevor was in his room watching television when his mother arrived home from the hospital at nine-thirty that night. He knew her habits by now.  She and Franklin would eat together, their meal having been left warming in the oven by Deborah. Then she’d change into her pajamas and robe, go to Catherine’s room where she’d kiss the sleeping girl goodnight, then knock on Trevor’s door, and come in and talk with him if he was still awake.

     When Trevor heard the knock, he aimed the remote at the TV set, shut it off, and said, “You can come in, Mom.”

     The boy propped his pillows up against the headboard and moved over to make room for his mother.  She sat down next to him and leaned back, closing her eyes for a long moment.

     “You work too many hours, Mom,” Trevor said as he observed his tired mother.

     Ashton smiled.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was sixteen years ago and I was having this conversation with your father.”

     “Huh?”

     “Nothing, sweetheart,” Ashton said as she opened her eyes. “Never mind.”

     The woman had her shoulder length hair pulled up in a ponytail, something she only did when she was at home. Her hair was the color of cherry Coke, or so Trevor had heard his father say to Uncle Roy one time along with, “She was a knock-out, Roy.  A gorgeous woman that I never thought would give me the time of day.”  Trevor assumed his mother colored her hair now to keep the gray from showing. After all, she would be fifty-one in November.  Like his father, she had fine lines around her eyes, but other than that she was still as trim and fit has she had been when Trevor was Catherine’s age.

     Ashton patted her son’s leg, taking note of his clothing for the first time.

     “Why are you dressed up?”

     “I had a job interview today.”

     “A job interview?”

     “Yeah. Actually, I got hired, too.”

     “Where?”

     “At the Gap. It’s just a few blocks from here on--”

     “I know where it’s at. But, Trev, you don’t have to get a job. If you need more money, all you had to do was ask.”

     “I know, but I was gonna be working this summer in Eagle Harbor anyway, and with you and Franklin gone all day, there’s not a lot to do here, so I figured I might as well get a job. My friend, Libby Sheridan - Uncle Roy’s granddaughter – she works for a Gap in L.A. and likes it a lot, so I thought I’d give it a try. I start tomorrow at nine o’clock.”

     “Okay, if that’s what you really want to do. But did you tell the manager that you won’t be able to work once school starts?”

     “No, ‘cause I can still work on weekends, and maybe a night or two after school. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my grades up.”

     “I’m not worried about that, it’s just that you won’t be here.”

     “What do you mean I won’t be here?”

     “Just a minute.”

     With a puzzled expression, Trevor watched as his mother stood and left the room. She returned a few minutes later with a brightly colored pamphlet in her hand.  She sat down on the edge of the bed and handed it to Trevor.

     “Here.”

     “What’s this?” the teenager asked as he accepted the tri-folded brochure.

     “It’s information about St. Charles Prep School.”

     “Prep school?”

     “Yes, in Massachusetts. Franklin and I want to send you there.  I’ve already mailed the headmaster a transcript of your grades. We’ve been invited there for a visit the second weekend in August.  Trevor, this will be a wonderful opportunity for you.”

     “But I thought I’d go to the high school that’s around the corner from here.”

     Ashton laughed at what she perceived to be her son’s naivety. “Oh, honey, no.  I want nothing but the best for you.  You want to become a doctor.  Franklin would love to see you get into Harvard.  If you continue to be an A student, and go to St. Charles, then with Franklin’s recommendation, and recommendations from some influential colleagues of ours, I’m sure you’ll be accepted at Harvard.”

     “But this school...” Trevor glanced at the brochure, “St. Charles. It’s in Massachusetts.”

     “Yes.”

     “How will I get home?”

     “Franklin and I will come and get you one weekend a month, and then, of course, you’ll be home for Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and spring break.”

     “So I’ll be living there?”

     “Of course you’ll be living there, silly. As you said, it’s in Massachusetts.”  Ashton could sense her son’s unrest. “Honey, you’ll love it. You’ll be surrounded by boys your own age, from similar social backgrounds.  They have an excellent athletic department. You can run track, participate in cross country, play basketball, play lacrosse, play baseball, play hockey...whatever sport you’d like. I doubt there’s one they don’t offer.”

     Trevor looked at the brochure that depicted clean-cut teenage boys wearing navy blue slacks, white shirts, navy blue sweaters with the school’s crest on the right breast, and navy blue ties. 

     “But where are the girls?”

     Again, Ashton laughed. “Trevor, it’s an all-boys boarding school. There are no girls. But, they do have social events scheduled throughout the year with a nearby girls’ prep school.  Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to meet some nice young women.”

     “But what if I don’t wanna go?”

     “Well then, son, this is one time I’ll have to be firm with you.  I want you to go, and Franklin wants you to go.  There’s no room for debate on this issue.  We just want what’s best for you, Trevor.  It’s not as though we’re trying to get rid of you, so please don’t think that.”

     “No,” Trevor shook his head, “I don’t think that,” he told his mother, though there was a part of him that was wondering if, in fact, his mom and Franklin were trying to get rid of him for the bulk of each year. “But in Eagle Harbor I went to the regular high school. It’s even in the same building I went to grade school in, just at the other end.”

     “That’s because Eagle Harbor is a small town, honey, and opportunities there don’t exist like opportunities do here.”

     “But Pops could have sent me to a prep school in Anchorage.  A couple of kids I know from Eagle Harbor go there. The principal talked to Pops about it when I graduated from eighth grade ‘cause of my grades and all. Mr. Sharnel thought it would be a good opportunity for me, but Pops wouldn’t hear of it. He said he wanted me at home, with him, until I left for college.”

     “Trevor, your father loves you very much, and not for one minute do I fault him for that.  But don’t you think it was selfish of him to cling to you like that, to try and hang onto you and keep you at home, just so he wouldn’t be lonely, if there were better opportunities for you in Anchorage?”

     “I never thought it was because he’d be lonely.”

     “Then why?”

     Trevor shrugged and dropped his eyes to the comforter that covered his bed. “I don’t know.  I guess...I guess I thought it was because he loved me.”

     “Well, Franklin and I love you, too.  We love you very much.  But this is one situation where your father’s way, and my way, will never come close to meeting. If you’re going to live with me, then I have to do what I feel is best for you, and for your future.  And right now what’s best for you is St. Charles.”

     Ashton patted the brochure. “You read that. I think once you do, and once we take you there for a weekend, you’ll see that I’m right.”

     The woman leaned forward and kissed her son on the forehead.  “Goodnight, sweetheart. Don’t stay up too late since you have to work tomorrow.”

     “I won’t.”

      Long after his mother left his room, Trevor sat staring down at the brochure in his hands.  He could no more picture himself attending an all-boys prep school than he could picture himself robbing a bank. He finally tossed the brochure on his nightstand, then laid back on his bed and contemplated his mother’s definition of the word love, compared to his father’s. Though Trevor wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, Pops was coming out the winner on this one.

________________________

Hi Libby,

I got hired at the Gap. I start tomorrow.  I don’t need to work. My mom gives me all the money I want, but I’m bored out of my skull. 

Mom talked to me tonight about school.  I thought I’d be going to the high school that’s closest to her apartment, but she gave me a pamphlet for a boarding school in Massachusetts. I didn’t know she wanted me to go to boarding school. She’s says it’s the best prep school on the east coast, and that I’ll be accepted to Harvard if I get good grades there.  I’m not sure I care about going to Harvard if it means I have to go to boarding school first. And you know what’s really a total bummer?  There aren’t any girls there. It’s an all-boys school. Can you believe that?

I stopped at a fire station a few blocks from here today.  The guys were really nice and said I could come back any time I want to. When I told Captain Blain I was going to start working at the Gap tomorrow, he even invited me to bring my lunch to the station and eat with them during my hour break.  Being in that station today and talking to the guys kind of made me miss Eagle Harbor. 

Trevor

Chapter 15

Johnny arrived at Fresno Yosemite International airport at five o’clock on Sunday evening.  He’d talked to Trevor early that morning from his hotel room in Anchorage. Carl had given him a ride to the city the previous day.  Johnny had booked a room for himself and Carl in the same hotel he and Trevor had stayed at a month earlier.  While Carl was in the shower, Johnny had called New York.  He told his son that he’d be at Chet Kelly’s cabin in Jackson Lake for the next two weeks, and then reminded Trevor that he’d be at Roy’s the week after that.

“Do you wanna fly out to L.A. the week I’m at your Uncle Roy’s?  I’ll pay for the ticket.”

The long pause indicated to Johnny his son was considering that suggestion. “Libby will be there,” Johnny said when he could no longer stand the silence.

“Yeah, I know. But she’ll be working.”

“Some of the time, yeah.  But when she is, you and I could do stuff with Uncle Roy.  Or, just do stuff together if you want to. Or you can swim in Uncle Roy’s pool.”

“Huh...no.  No thanks.  I...I’m getting ready to go out and look for a job, so I probably shouldn’t ask for time off.”

“What kind of a job?”

“I don’t know yet, but there’s lots of stores and restaurants within walking distance of Mom’s place, so I’ll find something.”

“Just don’t get a job where you have to walk home after dark.”

“Pops—“

“Trevor, New York City isn’t Eagle Harbor.  If you get a job where you’re working after dark, then make sure your mother or Franklin realize they have to pick you up.”

“Pops—“

“Or take a cab home if you have to. Your mother can pick up the tab in order to keep her son safe.”

“Pops! Stop it. I’m not a baby.”

“Trev, please. Just promise me—“

“Why can’t we just once have a conversation where you treat me like I’m a grown-up?”

“When you are a grown-up, I’ll treat you like one.  Right now you’re my fifteen year old son, so I have the right to treat you like a teenager.”

“Like a baby is more like it,” Trevor had mumbled.

Johnny wondered if he’d ever again be able to express concern for the child he loved so much, without said child acting as though his father had just committed a crime.

“Look, I didn’t call to argue with you, I called to let you know where I’m gonna be.  I’ll call you once a week while I’m gone, but if you need to get a hold of me for any reason, call me on my cell phone.”

“I will. But I won’t need to get a hold of you.  I can handle anything that comes up without you.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.”

“Trev, look...I know we’re not seeing eye to eye on much of anything lately, but I love you.”

“Yeah.”

When that was the only response Johnny received, and when there was another long, awkward silence, he finally ended the call by saying, “I need to get going. Carl’s outta the shower and we’re headed for breakfast before I catch my plane.  Good luck on the job search.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

“Goodbye, son.”

A long flight with a two-hour layover in Sacramento meant Johnny had a lot of time to review that phone conversation in his mind.  As Trevor’s father, there were so many things he was well aware of.  First of all, his son wasn’t nearly as happy as he wanted Johnny to think.  Second of all, the kid was bored to tears.  And thirdly, Trevor wasn’t receiving much supervision, or attention, from Ashton or Franklin.  Based on the fact that Johnny had always been a very involved parent, he knew this had to be a big change for Trevor. It might have been what the boy thought he’d wanted, but Johnny was willing to bet Trevor was discovering that his newfound freedom wasn’t all he’d thought it would be.

But he has to come to that realization on his own, Johnny told himself as he drove out of Fresno in the Ford Explorer he’d rented and headed for Jackson Lake.  If I try and force the realization on him, I’ll push him even farther away.

It was a hell of a place for John Gage to be as a father.  He hadn’t been so foolish as to assume that he and Trevor would never have any rocky moments during Trevor’s teen years, but he’d never expected something of this magnitude. He’d never expected his boy to flee from him. 

God only knows what he’s watching on TV, or what sites he’s surfing on the Internet. Damn it! I tried so hard to raise him with decent influences. I tried so hard to help him make positive choices, rather than the other way around. And all it will take is a few months at Ashton’s for all of that to be undone. Maybe it already has been undone. There’s no point in me asking Ashton about it. She won’t have a clue as to what he’s doing, or who his friends are, or what he’s polluting his mind with while he sits in that bedroom staring at that TV with God knows how many channels available to him.

Johnny realized he’d grown conservative in his old age, but he wouldn’t apologize to anyone for that.  It wasn’t easy raising a child to be a decent adult nowadays. There were just so many negative influences between TV, video games, the Internet, music, and movies. The parent Johnny would have been forty years ago while raising his daughter, Jessie, was not the parent he was today simply because, to a large degree, forty years ago it was easier to protect your child from the seedier aspects of life.  Now those seedy aspects were broadcast on almost every TV channel twenty-four hours a day. And, given his age, Johnny knew exactly what morals he wanted to pass along to his son that would, in turn, assist Trevor as he grew from a young man to a young adult. This issue was something that Johnny had thought little about when he was twenty, and given little importance to, which just went to show that there were some advantages to being an older father.  

The fire chief pushed his concerns aside as best he could when he arrived at the outskirts of Jackson Lake.  He saw the Sierra’s in the distance, rising high and proud above the town.  He stopped at the first grocery store he came to and spent the next thirty minutes shopping for the basic necessities.  As Johnny loaded his groceries into the back of the Explorer, he mumbled, “If nothing else the fridge better work, Kelly.”

Johnny consulted the map Chet had sent him, then laid it on the front passenger seat for easy reference. He drove through town, and turned left four roads beyond the only intersection in Jackson Lake that had a stoplight. The road wound around the lake.  Johnny could catch glimpses of the water through thick stands of trees every now and then as he drove.  When he finally came to Chet’s home, it was just as the man had described it - an A-frame in bad need of restaining, that overlooked the lake and was nestled in a grove of trees.  Johnny pulled in the driveway. Tree branches brushed against the vehicle from foliage that needed trimming.  Grass and weeds grew high in the small front yard, and the steps that led up to the house were crooked, and possessed a broken railing.  Johnny could see what a great home this neglected house might become, but whether Chet would stick with it long enough to turn it into a quaint vacation getaway was yet to be seen. Knowing Chet the way he did, Johnny had his doubts, but then, maybe with Collin and Ryan to help him on a regular basis, Chet would find the incentive he needed.

For the time being, Johnny wasn’t concerned with what Chet did or didn’t ultimately do with his home.  He carefully traversed the steps to the front door, knowing the last thing he needed to do on his first night here was sprain an ankle. He used the key Chet had sent him to gain entrance, and looked around until he found a light switch on the wall to his left.

Johnny had entered into a foyer.  Straight ahead of him was a huge living room with the loft of the A-frame house above it, while to his right was a big open kitchen. The laundry room/bathroom combination Chet had mentioned was behind the kitchen.

At the left side of the living room was the only bedroom on the main floor. Like the living room, the bedroom had sliding patio doors that opened onto the deck that overlooked the lake.  Above his head Johnny could see another deck, and assumed patio doors led from the loft bedroom to that deck.

Johnny’s assumption was right.  He climbed the stairway that started in the living room and took him directly to the loft.  The loft was half the size of the living room below it, which still meant it was sixteen feet by sixteen feet. It also contained a bathroom that was in need of remodeling, though the plumbing did work, as Johnny discovered when he turned on the water at the sink.

The fire chief trotted down the stairs. As Chet had said, everything was dusty and dirty, and in need of a good cleaning.  Not to mention the need for new shingles on the roof, updated wiring, some plumbing work, the front porch that needed to be rebuilt, the back deck off the living room that needed to be rebuilt, the fresh coat of paint every room needed, the hard wood floors that needed to sanded and restained, or carpeted over, and then there was the major trimming of the brush, weeds, and grass surrounding the house.  How much would be accomplished by the time Johnny and the rest of the guys left here in two weeks, the man didn’t know, but if nothing else he figured they’d make a good dent in the fixing up portion of Chet’s latest fixer-upper.

The sun was starting to set as Johnny opened windows on the main floor and then walked out to his rented vehicle.  He opened the cargo hold and grabbed his suitcase, sleeping bag, and the cot he’d brought along.  He took everything to the main floor bedroom. He knew everyone was bringing sleeping bags and cots, since Chet didn’t have any furniture in the house yet other than a kitchen table and four chairs that had been left behind by the previous owner, and three lawn chairs in the living room that Johnny assumed Chet and Ryan had brought up with them several weeks ago.

Johnny carried in his groceries next. The canned goods he put on a dust-laden cabinet shelf. He decided to put everything else in the refrigerator for the time being, including the loaf of bread and box of Wheaties he’d bought, until he could determine whether mice lived in Chet’s house, too. As he opened the refrigerator the man groaned.  No light came on, and the interior was warm.

“Kelly, I shoulda’ known.”

Johnny set the bread and gallon of milk he had in his hands on the table.  He pulled the refrigerator away from the wall and shook his head when he saw it was plugged in.

“This couldn’t have been easy, could it?  I’ve been awake since four-thirty this morning, was arguing with my son by five, was eating breakfast by six, was on a plane by eight, drove over an hour to get here, and I’m beat.  Damn it, Chet. I could wring your neck.”

Johnny went to the laundry room in search of a toolbox.  He found one on the closet shelf. He returned to the kitchen with it, set it on the floor, and pulled the refrigerator farther away from the wall so he could get behind it.  He opened the toolbox and took out a screwdriver.  He sat down on the floor, noticing the mouse droppings that had been behind and beneath the fridge as he did so.

“Great. Just great.  Not only is this refrigerator a piece of shit, but this place is full of mice.  So much for a vacation that was supposed to help relieve some stress.”

But for all his griping, John Gage didn’t really mind the situation he now found himself in.  At least he wasn’t arguing with his son, nor was the Boys in Bondage screaming throughout the house. All he could hear was frogs croaking on the lake as the sound drifted in through the open windows. 

Within thirty minutes Johnny had the refrigerator fixed. He washed his hands off at the kitchen sink and stored the remainder of his food in the refrigerator. He found the broom and dustpan, and swept the area behind the refrigerator clean of dust, dirt, and mouse droppings.  After emptying the dustpan out the back door he put it and the broom away, then washed his hands and arms with soap and hot water. He dried off on a towel he’d brought from home before returning to the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich and ate it on a paper plate while washing it down with a Coke, then ate three plums for dessert. By the time darkness had completely fallen, Johnny was exhausted from his long day of travel.  He shut and locked the front door, but left the windows open. He turned off the lights and made his way to the bedroom.  Five minutes after he’d entered the room, he was sound asleep on his cot. The man was so tired he never even noticed it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his king-sized bed at home.

Chapter 16

Johnny spent the week cleaning and airing out Chet’s home like he’d promised. In addition to that, he fixed the washing machine, which he’d also discovered didn’t work when he went to wash a load of clothes on Wednesday.  By the time Roy, Chet, Marco, and Ryan arrived at one o’clock on Sunday afternoon, the cabin was livable.  Every room had been swept and vacuumed, the bathrooms thoroughly scrubbed, and every kitchen cabinet washed out with Mr. Clean. The materials Chet had delivered from a local lumberyard arrived on Monday like he’d said they would.  By Thursday, Johnny was finished with the inside cleaning, and had started rebuilding the front steps.  He figured with five men going in and out of the house during the next week, the steps might not hold up well, meaning someone was in danger of breaking an ankle.  By Saturday morning, the steps were finished and Johnny started on the roof.  The steep pitch to the structure made the work slow going. Johnny was thankful the roof had just one layer of shingles currently, meaning they could add another layer without tearing the current layer off.  Had there been three or more layers, that wouldn’t have held true.

Johnny was straddling the peak of the roof when Chet’s Jeep pulled in the driveway on Sunday afternoon, followed by Roy’s mini-van. Johnny had spoken with Roy once that week and knew the man had decided to follow Chet in his own vehicle.  Roy had told Johnny they’d have a more comfortable ride back to L.A. in the mini-van, as opposed to riding back in the Jeep with Chet, Marco, and Ryan, along with everyone’s gear.  Johnny had agreed with his friend on that issue, and then reminded Roy he’d have to take his rental vehicle back to the airport in Fresno before they headed for L.A.

“That’s fine,” Roy had said. “I’ll follow you there when we leave Chet’s place for home.”

As the men exited their vehicles, Chet pointed and yelled, “Hey, look! It’s Santa Claus on my roof!  But gee, someone better fatten up that Santa before Christmas.”

Because it was eighty-four degrees and Johnny was on a roof surrounded by asphalt shingles, he’d taken his shirt off and draped it over a railing on the front porch. 

“Shut up, Kelly!”

Roy shook his head as he looked at Marco. “We haven’t even been here a minute and it’s already started.”

“You thought it wouldn’t?” Marco asked with a smile.

“What’s started?” Ryan Kelly asked Roy as he opened the cargo hold on his father’s Jeep.

“The Chet Kelly-John Gage verbal war that will go on for the next seven days.”

“Oh, really?” Ryan cocked an eyebrow. He’d only been around John Gage for a few hours each summer during the past five years at the Station 51 reunion picnic Roy Desoto hosted.  Ryan didn’t know enough about Gage’s relationship with his father to understand what Roy and Marco were talking about. 

“Yeah,” Roy said as he slid open the side panel door on the white Chrysler van in order to unload his gear. “Mostly it consists of your father insulting Johnny, and Johnny telling your father to shut up.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It might be, if you haven’t had to listen to it more times than you can count since 1972.”

By the time the men had their gear in hand, Johnny had climbed off the roof.  Roy frowned as he got a close look at his friend.  Johnny had always been several pounds underweight given his height, but in recent years he had filled out enough so one couldn’t call him skinny in the true sense of the word.  Now he was back to skinny, and Roy suspected the weight loss had to do with worry surrounding Trevor.

Handshakes were exchanged amongst Johnny and the new arrivals.  Roy didn’t settle on a handshake, but rather hugged the best friend he hadn’t seen since the previous July, while giving him a pat on the back.

“How are you doing?”

Johnny knew that question encompassed a lot of things, but said nothing other than, “Okay,” in response.

The fire chief followed his friends into the house.

“Wow, Gage, you’ve got this place lookin’ spic and span.”

“Comes from all those years Cap made me pull latrine duty every time the Phantom got me into trouble.”

“Hey, can I help it if you always fell for the Phantom’s pranks?”

“Who’s the Phantom?” Ryan asked his father as Chet led the young man and Marco up to the loft. 

“I’ve never told you about the Phantom?”

“No.”

“Well, Ry, tonight when we’re sittin’ around the bonfire tossing back a few beers, you ask ole’ Johnny about the Phantom. He’ll fill you in. The Phantom was Gage’s best buddy and closest pal.”

“In your dreams, Kelly!” Johnny shouted up the stairs as he motioned for Roy to follow him to the room they’d share.

“Come on, Gage,” Chet chided as he leaned over the loft railing, “you know your life wouldn’t have been the same without the Phantom.”

“Yeah, right. Oh, and hey, Kelly, you owe me thirty bucks for Decon.”

“Decon? What did you need thirty bucks worth a’ Decon for?”

“To kill mice with.  What the hell did you think I used it for?”

“With you, Gage, anything’s possible.” Chet looked around the loft, and then below into the living room. “But I don’t see any mice.”

“That’s ‘cause the Decon killed ‘em, you idiot. Now give me the thirty bucks you owe me.”

“Do you have a receipt?”

“Kelly...”

“Gage, you still make it too damn easy for the Phantom to get you riled up, you know that?  I’ll pay you after I get my stuff stowed away up here.”

“You’d better.”

     “I will.  Provided you can prove to me that you really did kill some mice this week. Did you keep their bodies?”

     “Oh, shut up, Chet.”

Roy shook his head as he recalled his words to Ryan from a few minutes earlier.  If he hadn’t been privy to these types of exchanges since 1972, he might actually find them interesting.  Instead, he was glad when they reached the main floor bedroom, meaning Chet was too far away to egg Johnny on.

If I’m going to survive this week with these two, I’ll have to remember to keep them separated, was Roy’s last thought as he set up his cot and spread his sleeping bag on top of it.

__________________

It was six o’clock on Sunday evening when the men quit working on the roof for the day. Thanks to the shingling Johnny had already done, the men estimated they’d have the job finished by Monday evening, provided they got an early start on Monday morning. 

Chet had brought along a grill, so while his guests took turns using the shower, he made hamburgers and hotdogs. Forty minutes later, the Irishman entered the kitchen from the laundry room. 

“Supper’s just about ready, guys! Ryan, I’ve got extra lawn chairs in the back of the Jeep. You wanna get ‘em for me and carry ‘em around back?”

“Sure, Dad!”

Ryan trotted down the stairs from the loft where he’d just finished changing into clean clothes. Marco and Roy appeared from the living room, where they’d been shooting the bull about Roy’s family and Marco’s restaurant, while Johnny was standing at the far end of the kitchen, talking on his cell phone.  As Marco and Roy helped Chet gather paper plates, napkins, plastic utensils, ketchup, mustard, pickles, and relish, the three men couldn’t help but overhear Johnny’s side of the conversation with his son.

“And just what kind of a party is this?”

“How do you know this boy?”

“How late are you gonna be out?”

“How far does he live from your mother’s apartment? I don’t want you walkin’ home from there after dark.”

“Trevor, I’m not giving you a hard time, but I expect some straight answers here.”

“Yes, I know you don’t live with me any more. Believe me, I’m well aware of that, but I’m still your father.  Does your mother know this boy’s parents?”

“Trevor, for the one hundredth time in one hundred days, I’m not treating you like a little kid.  I just wanna know—“

Johnny was suddenly so furious with his son that he didn’t pay attention to the men in the kitchen with him.  He growled at his cell phone as he began punching in a number, leading Roy to believe that somehow Johnny and Trevor had been disconnected.  He tried not to act like he was listening when he heard Johnny request of someone, “I need to speak with Doctor Riley-Barnes.”  

“This is John Gage.”

“Look, I realize she’s busy, but this is important.”

“No, I’m not a patient, I’m her son’s father.  Now, I don’t give a damn if she’s in the middle of open heart surgery, I wanna talk to her, you got that?”

Chet and Marco exchanged glances, as they, too, pretended to be engrossed with getting things together for supper.

“Ashton, it’s John.”

“I’m sure you are busy. You’re always busy, but this is important.  Where the hell is Trevor going tonight?”

“Yeah, I know he’s going to a party. What I mean is, do you know this kid Zach? Do you know his parents?”

“Yes, I do think it’s important that you know his parents.  I don’t let Trevor go to parties if I don’t know the parents, and I don’t let him go if the parents aren’t gonna be there.”

“Ashton, don’t argue with me.  And if I have to tell you how to be Trevor’s mother, then I will.  Right now you’re falling goddamn short in that department, because our son is going to a party hosted by a boy you don’t know, whose parents you’ve never met, and you have no idea whether or not there’s gonna be any adult supervision there.  Do you understand this spells trouble, or are you too busy playing esteemed heart surgeon to care?”

With that, Johnny slammed a finger against the OFF button and threw his phone down on the table.  “Stupid woman,” he snarled as he stomped out the front door.

The banging of the screen door echoed throughout the house.  It was Chet who finally broke the awkward moment.

“Boy, Johnny’s former old lady sounds like a bitch. Wonder what he saw in her?  I suppose she was good in the sack, huh?”

This time is was Marco who said, “Shut up, Chet,” while Roy shook his head at the Irishman and then went in search of Johnny.

__________________

Roy found his friend sitting on the rear bumper of the mini-van. 

“Supper’s ready.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Johnny—“

“I’ll be there in a minute, Roy.”

“All right.”  Roy stood beside the man, but when Johnny didn’t stand, or say anything else, he offered, “If you wanna talk—“

“Not right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Just don’t miss supper. I can tell you haven’t been eating much lately.”

“I’ll eat,” Johnny nodded. “And thanks.”

“For what?”

Johnny looked up at his friend and gave him a small smile. “For caring.”

“That’s what friends are for, partner.”

“I know.”

“Just don’t forget it.”

“I won’t.”

Roy sighed as he walked away from the man, leaving Johnny to the solitude he seemed to crave right at the moment.  In so many ways Johnny had changed since Trevor’s birth, yet in other ways, he was still the same man Roy had worked with thirty-five years earlier. The upsets came easily, but talking about them still wasn’t Johnny’s forte¢. Granted, he could still rattle on for hours about a driver who had cut him off on the highway, but he couldn’t talk to his best friend of close to four decades now about a problem with his son that was tearing him apart.  And, Roy had learned over the years that all he could do was respect that. When Johnny wanted to talk about his problems with Trevor he would. Until then, Roy would just have to wait.

 __________________

Hi Libby,

     I got into a fight on the phone with my pops again tonight over a party I was invited to. I was so pissed that I hung up on Pops. Zach’s a kid I work with at the Gap, and Pops didn’t want me to go to his party because my mom doesn’t know Zach’s parents.  I went to the party anyway ‘cause Mom called here and said I could.  I think Pops called her at the hospital and tried to stop me from going.  Zach’s a nice enough guy, but I came home from the party early. There was booze there, and pot, and some other drugs, too, but I don’t know what they were.  Zach’s parents weren’t there, and things were starting to get out of hand when I left.  Some of the girls and guys were going into the bedrooms. I’m not sure, but I think some of the guys put Ecstasy in the girls’ drinks. I didn’t want Zach and the other kids to think I’m lame, so I told him I wasn’t feeling good and needed to go home. He seemed okay with that. I hope so, because so far, Zach’s the only friend I’ve made in New York.

     I know you’ll see my pops in a couple of weeks, so please don’t tell him about the drugs and booze at the party.  He always told me if I ever found myself in that type of situation, that I should never be ashamed to say, ‘no thanks’ and leave.  So that’s basically what I did.  I don’t want to get messed up with that junk.  Pops also told me I could always call him if I found myself at a party with drugs or booze, and he’d come and pick me up.  It was weird, but even after our fight on the phone before I went to the party, I was wishing I could call Pops to come get me.  Instead, I called a cab.

Trevor

P.S. I ate lunch at the fire station three times last week. The guys are great. Captain Blain reminds me of Pops.

Chapter 17

Despite the hard work, and Chet Kelly’s badgering, Johnny enjoyed his two weeks at Jackson Lake. The first week spent in solitude had been just what he’d needed, and the second week spent with old friends had also been just what he’d needed.  The men called it quits by six each night, and then gathered in Chet’s backyard that overlooked the lake to eat supper around a bonfire.  They’d talk until it grew dark, and then talk some more.  Shop talk about the L.A. fire department, shop talk about the fire department in Eagle Harbor, talk about Marco’s restaurant and catering business, and talk about their families. Johnny was the only one who didn’t contribute when the subject turned to children and grandchildren, or in Marco’s case, nieces and nephews.  He knew it wasn’t lost on his friends that he didn’t mention Trevor, but they respected his silence and didn’t pressure him for news of the teenager. Surprisingly enough, even Chet respected Johnny’s reticence where Trevor was concerned, which meant one of two things. Either Chet had acquired some semblance of tact in recent years, or Roy had pulled him aside and warned him to keep his mouth shut.  An educated guess told Johnny it was the latter, but regardless of how it had come about, Johnny was simply grateful that Chet was remaining mum on this subject.

     By the time Saturday evening arrived, Chet’s house was taking shape.  The new shingles were in place, the back deck had been rebuilt, and Johnny and Roy had rewired the house while the other three men trimmed trees, dug out dead bushes, cleared away brush, and mowed the lawn. Chet still had a lot of work ahead of him if he wanted his vacation home to truly be what he pictured in his mind, but between the help he’d have from Collin and Ryan for two weeks in mid-August, and the fact that three of Chet’s brothers were going to help him for a couple of weeks in October, Chet thought by the time winter arrived the house would be looking pretty good. 

     Johnny had nodded his agreement to that statement as the men sat around the bonfire on Saturday night. Chet’s vacation house was similar to what Johnny had thought of buying, or possibly building, for himself when he retired. He didn’t own his sumptuous home in Eagle Harbor; it belonged to the fire department. When Johnny retired, which he figured he’d be doing sometime between his sixty-seventh and seventieth birthdays, the house would be passed onto the new fire chief.  Johnny wasn’t positive he’d stay in Eagle Harbor then.  If Trevor did become a doctor, then depending on where in Alaska he set up practice had been where Johnny thought he might live.  Alaska was filled with small towns that contained small fire departments. Johnny had pictured himself working as a part-time volunteer firefighter and paramedic in his later years, while at the same time living near his son. But who knew what would happen now?  The way things were currently looking, it was possible that Trevor would never return to Alaska. If that proved to be the case, then Johnny had no idea what his future held.  Maybe he’d just go on being Eagle Harbor’s fire chief until he died, or until he got so old they kicked him out.  He loved his job, and he loved Eagle Harbor and the people who inhabited it, so that alternative wasn’t the worst one in the world if his son never came back to him. 

     Johnny blocked out the conversation around him as the logs on the fire crackled and spit. In January he wouldn’t have imagined that seven short months later, he’d be wondering if Trevor would ever live with him again. He wished he could turn the clock back and seize the moment when things began to fall apart between himself and his son, because somehow that moment had passed him by. One minute they were arguing about the petty things all teenagers argue over with their parents, and then the next thing Johnny knew, May had arrived and they were engaged in an all-out war. This past week he’d found himself envying the relationship Chet had with Ryan.  He’d watched them work together, and tease and poke fun at one another. Then there had been times when Chet would give his son a pat on the back, or Ryan would do the same to Chet, and Johnny would think, That’s all I want for Trevor and me. I’ve always wanted our relationship to keep the father and son element to it, but I had always hoped that once he reached adulthood, we could be friends, too.

     Johnny had made his weekly phone call to Trevor on Friday evening. Considering the last time they’d talked, they’d gotten into an argument over the party Trevor wanted to attend, their conversation was understandably strained.  If nothing else, Johnny was happy that Trevor was working at the Gap.  He figured employment, to some extent anyway, would keep the teen out of trouble, and give him something to do during the long hours that Ashton and Franklin were away from the apartment.  Nonetheless, it wasn’t the life Johnny wanted for his son, and the fact that his fifteen-year-old was so far from him, and living with so little supervision, worried the hell out of him.

     Johnny leaned forward in his chair and massaged his temples.  He’d woken with a headache that morning, and no amount of Motrin would abate it.  Nor was the Motrin helping the sore muscles in his thighs, lower back, and shoulders. 

     Based on the concern in Roy’s tone, Johnny realized this was the second time the man was asking him, “Johnny?  Are you okay?”

     “Um...yeah.” Johnny straightened and rolled his neck from side to side. “Just tired.  I’ve had a headache all day I can’t get rid of, and I’m kinda sore, but I’m okay.”

     “Whatsa’ matter, Gage,” Chet asked, “gettin’ old?”

     Johnny glared at the Irishman, who was seated to his left on the other side of Marco.  “No, Kelly, I’m not gettin’ old. Maybe I’m sore and tired because you’ve just gotten two weeks of free labor outta me. Ever think of that?”

     “Nope, that thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Like I said, I think you’re gettin’ old.”

     Johnny grabbed the arms of the lawn chair to use as leverage to push himself to his feet.  He bit back a groan at the pain that shot through his thighs.

     “Well, Chet, since both you and my son think I’m ancient, I guess it’s time for this old codger to go to bed.”

     “Hey, Johnny, come on.  I didn’t mean anything by it.  It’s only eight o’clock.  I thought we’d go inside and play cards in a few minutes.”

     “You guys play all the cards you want to.  I’m goin’ to bed.”

     “Okay,” Chet reluctantly agreed, uncertain if what he’d said to Johnny about being old was driving the fire chief away, or if, in fact, Johnny was sore and tired like he claimed.  “See ya’ in the morning.”

     “Yeah, see ya’ in the morning.”

     “Good night, Johnny,” Marco said.

     “Night.”

     “See ya’ in the morning, Johnny.”

     “Yeah, Ryan, I’ll see you then.”

     Roy was the only one who didn’t bid Johnny goodnight. He watched the man walk to the back door, his gait stiff and cautious, as though every step was painful.

     “He’s not moving too good,” Chet said once Johnny had entered the house.

     “He looks pretty sore,” Marco agreed.

     “Roy?”

Roy turned to face Chet. “What?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

Roy couldn’t help but smile.  Johnny’s number one foe was still the guy who worried about him the most sometimes.

“I’d say he’s tired and sore.”

“Roy...”

“Chet, if Johnny says he’s tired and sore, then he’s tired and sore.”

“But he was okay yesterday.”

“Yeah, but like he said, he’s been up here working for two weeks now.  I know we all think of Johnny Gage as Station 51’s perpetual kid, but let’s face it, guys, Johnny hasn’t been twenty-five in a long time now, and neither have we.”

“As much as I’d like to, I can’t argue with that,” Marco said as he stretched his legs out in front of him, trying to relieve a few sore muscles of his own.

Ryan reached over and smacked Chet on the thigh.  “Neither can you, Dad.”

Ryan’s remark caused Chet to forget about Johnny as he and his son bantered back and forth in typical Kelly fashion.  When the teasing came to an end, Chet put the fire out and led the way into the house.  The four men played cards until eleven, and then one by one headed to bed. 

Johnny was sleeping when Roy entered the room they shared.  The light from the full moon that was coming in through the screens of the sliding doors allowed Roy to forego turning on the overhead bedroom light.  This past week of bunking with Johnny had displayed to Roy that the man’s favorite sleeping position was still on his back, with his right arm resting over his eyes.  But tonight, Johnny was on his left side and burrowed deep in his sleeping bag. Roy found that a little odd considering that even with the windows open and the door slid open that led to the deck, the room’s temperature didn’t warrant more covers than a sheet. 

Roy kept his footsteps light as he crossed to his cot and sat down.  He removed his work boots and quietly set them on the floor, then stripped down to his boxer shorts. As far as Roy could discern, Johnny never woke while he got ready for bed. Ten minutes after Roy had entered the room, he was sound asleep as well.

Chapter 18

     The same Saturday night Johnny had gone to bed early with a headache, Trevor was walking out of the Gap at eleven o’clock. This was the first evening he’d worked until after dark.  Inventory was being done in the store, and Trevor had volunteered to work as long as needed. He’d punched in at nine that morning, and was glad the day was finally over. As he walked out the back door of the store with his shift manager and another girl, Trevor bid the young ladies goodnight.  His manager, Nicole, asked, “Need a ride home, Trevor?”

     The teenager shook his head. “No thanks.”  He knew Nicole lived in the opposite direction from his mother’s apartment, as did the other girl he had worked with that evening, Crystal. Nicole was giving Crystal a ride home as it was.  Trevor didn’t want to impose on Nicole to go out of her way on his behalf.  Besides, it was a nice summer night.  Considering he’d been in the store for over fourteen hours, Trevor was looking forward to the walk home.

     “See you on Monday then,” Nicole said in regard to the next time she and Trevor would work together.

     “Yeah, see you Monday. Bye, Crystal.”

     “Bye, Trev.”

     Employing the manners he’d been taught by his father without even thinking about it, Trevor waited until the young women were safely in Nicole’s car before walking out of the small parking lot.  He followed the path Nicole took through the alley. She turned her Hondo Civic right when she came to the main thoroughfare, while Trevor walked in the opposite direction and headed home.

     The boy daydreamed as he walked. The sidewalks were filled with people going to and from restaurants and theatres, or just out for a summer evening stroll. Trevor thought about how he’d spent the day, versus how he would have spent it back in Eagle Harbor if he were still living there.  In Eagle Harbor, he would have been outdoors, working for Gus.  He might have done maintenance on a plane, or cleaned out the airport’s hanger or mechanic shop, or flown with Gus while the man tried out a new plane, or just listened to how an old plane they’d just finished repairing sounded. Instead, he’d spent the day cooped up inside a building, folding clothes, returning misplaced items to their proper racks, clerking behind the cash register, and taking inventory.  Admittedly, he was having a hard time understanding how Libby Sheridan could love a job so much that he was beginning to hate.  His co-workers were nice enough, and even though he’d left Zach’s party early, they were still friends.  But despite those factors, Trevor was discovering that, like his father, he wasn’t cut out for a job that didn’t allow him to expend his enormous amount of energy. And, as a direct result of his father’s influence, he’d grown up with a great love for the outdoors, so city dwelling and clerking in a store were not things Trevor enjoyed.  Though admitting that meant admitting he’d made a mistake by coming to live with his mother, and the stubborn fifteen-year-old wasn’t ready to make such a confession. Especially not to his father.

     Because he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, Trevor didn’t notice when he’d turned from a busy sidewalk onto one that was far less traveled that evening.  Nor did he notice the three boys who stepped out from an alley and began to follow him.  It wasn’t until Trevor heard footsteps pounding from behind him that he turned around.  All he heard was, “Get him!” before Trevor, too, started to run.

     Because he’d been caught unaware, Trevor had little chance to flee the boys who were intent on getting his wallet.  He was flung to the sidewalk and felt the weight of three bodies on top of him.  His mind automatically begged, “Papa, help me!” as fists pounded against his sides, and a hand groped his back right pant’s pocket where his wallet was nestled. 

     Trevor was no match for the boys and he knew it.  He also knew he would have been seriously injured if sirens hadn’t suddenly sounded, along with a man’s voice projecting from a speaker.

     “Hey, stop that!  Break it up!”

     Trevor’s assailants scrambled to their feet and ran before they were able to hurt him further, or able to get his wallet. The teenager didn’t know who was more shocked when a man gently helped him sit up, himself or Captain Blain.

     “Trevor?”

     Trevor sat on the curb the captain led him to. For the first time he saw both the Station 83 engine and paramedic squad parked on the street with their red lights illuminating the area in strobe fashion.

Trevor spoke around a split lower lip to the man who was crouched beside him. “What...what are you doing here?”

“We were headed back to the station after a run and saw those boys tangling with you.” Captain Blain moved aside as his paramedics knelt in front of Trevor. “I didn’t know it was you they were beating up, but I figured whoever was underneath that monkey pile needed help.”

“Thanks,” Trevor said, wincing as his bloody lip was dabbed with gauze.  “I don’t even know who those guys were.”

“I’m guessing they were trying to mug you.”

“Mug me? But why? I never did anything to them.  I don’t even know them.”

Captain Blain gave the boy a sad smile. “Well, Trev, welcome to the big city. Unfortunately, whether or not someone knows you has little to do with whether or not they commit a crime against you.”

After taking Trevor’s vital signs, asking him questions, and examining his abdomen and rib cage, the paramedics determined his injuries didn’t extend beyond a few bruises, his split lip, and a long scrape on his left cheek where his face had landed against the sidewalk. They cleaned his face and conferred as to whether or not he should be taken to the hospital.

“No,” Trevor said. “I’m fine.  I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Trevor, you’re a minor,” the captain said.  “I can’t—“

“My mother’s a doctor. She’s home from work by now.  I’ll have her look at me when I get there.”

“I’m not sure—“

“I don’t live far from here. I’ll be fine. Mom can look at me when I get home.”

The last thing Trevor needed was his father finding out he’d walked home from work after dark, been mugged, and ended up in the hospital. Trevor knew he’d be in big trouble over this incident with Pops, and while he knew he deserved to be chastised for his foolishness, he just wasn’t up to going another round with his father on the telephone.  If he were in the hospital, there was no way his mother would keep that fact from his father.  But, if he downplayed this, then maybe Mom wouldn’t tell Pops.

“Really, Captain Blain, I’m okay.”

“I should at least call the cops so you can give them a statement.”

“No, don’t,” Trevor pleaded, again fearful that his father would find out about this if the police got involved. “I didn’t see the guys, so there’s nothing I can tell the cops anyway. I’m fine. I just wanna go home.”

The man thought a moment, then nodded to his paramedics who began to gather their equipment.

“All right. If you say so.”  The captain hooked a hand under Trevor’s right armpit and helped him stand.  He led the boy to the passenger side of the fire engine.  “Come on. Climb in.”

“Why?”

“We’re taking you home.”

“You can’t do that. You’re on-duty.  You’ll get in trouble.”

“Why? You plan to tell on me?”

“No, but—“

“Then don’t worry about it.  If anyone asks, I’ll just say I’m doing my civic duty as a public servant of New York City.” The man smiled.  “Now climb in and give Ben directions to your mom’s place.”

Trevor did as he was instructed. He sat between the engineer, Ben, and Captain Blain, and told Ben how to get to his mother’s apartment.  The paramedic squad headed back to the station while the engine turned left at the next corner. Within five minutes Trevor was standing in front of his mother’s building.  The night-shift doorman stepped out to see if everything was all right. When Captain Blain assured him that there was no emergency, he went back into the building.

Captain Blain’s crew waited in the truck while the man said goodbye to Trevor.

“Now I’m taking your word for it that you’ll tell your mother what happened and have her look at you.”

“I will.”

“All right.”

“Thanks for bringing me home.  And thanks for helping me.  I...those guys would have really hurt me if you hadn’t come along.”

“Hey, from one firefighter’s brat to another, no thanks are necessary, okay?”

Despite the pain it caused him, Trevor smiled.  Since meeting Rich Blain, he’d come to learn that the man’s father had been a firefighter for forty years before his retirement in 2002.

“Okay.”  Trevor waved to the men in the truck, and then turned for the door and the heavily lit foyer beyond it.

“Trevor?”

The teenager turned around to once again face Captain Blain.

“Yeah?”

“There’s no shame in admitting you made a mistake.”

“Huh?”

“The more I get to know you, the more I get the impression you aren’t happy living here.”

Trevor’s eyes dropped to the sidewalk as he shrugged. “It’s okay. I mean, yeah...I’m happy.”

“You don’t sound too sure of that.”

Trevor looked up at the man. “Now you sound like my pops.”

“So he doesn’t think you’re happy here either?”

“No, he doesn’t, but that’s just ‘cause he wants me to move back hom...back to Eagle Harbor.”

“I don’t know exactly what happened between you and your father, but you’ve told me enough that I can take a pretty good guess.”

“We had a few fights,” Trevor confessed. “We don’t always see eye to eye.”

Rich laughed. “What father and son do see eye to eye when the son is a teenager?”

Trevor didn’t have an answer for the man’s question, which caused the captain to continue.  “Listen, Trev, not everyone is cut out for big city life, just like not everyone is cut out for small town life. From the way you’ve described Eagle Harbor, it sounds beautiful, but I couldn’t imagine living there.”

“You’d love it.  It’s a great place to live.”

“I’m sure it is, but I’m a city boy, born and raised here in New York. I couldn’t adapt to life in Alaska.  It just wouldn’t be for me. So given that, maybe life here in New York isn’t for you.”

“Maybe,” Trevor reluctantly admitted. “I’ve...sometimes I wonder about that.”

Captain Blain placed his hand on Trevor’s right shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “It was a boy’s choice to leave Alaska, Trevor. But if you return...well, that will be a man’s choice, because it takes a man to admit he’s made a mistake, apologize to someone he’s hurt, and then move on.”

Trevor nodded while absorbing the man’s words.

“Now go in and have your mom take a look at you. And if you do decide to leave New York, make sure you come by the station and tell me and the guys goodbye.”

“I will.”

“See ya’, Trev.”

“Bye.”

Trevor watched as the man climbed up into the cab of the big rig.  As Ben started to pull away from the curb, Trevor called over the noise of the rumbling diesel engine, “Thanks, Captain Blain!”

Using a gesture that made Trevor think of his father, Captain Blain gave the boy a thumbs-up as the truck headed down the street.

Trevor watched until he could no longer see the vehicle, and then entered his mother’s building.  Captain Blain had given him a lot to think about, not the least of which was the difference between a boy and a man.

_____________________

Trevor used his key to enter the apartment. The only light shining was coming from an antique lamp in the living room. His mother was curled up in one corner of the sofa wearing a pair of pale blue stain pajamas and a matching robe. She had the television on, but wasn’t paying any attention to it as she read a medical journal she had open in her lap. She turned when she heard the door close and lock. Trevor’s face was still hidden in the shadows of the foyer when his mother said, “I was beginning to wonder where you were.”

Because he usually didn’t see his mother before she left for work in the morning, Trevor always left a note on the kitchen bulletin board for her that let her know when he’d be home from work.  Oftentimes that made little difference since he was generally home before her each evening, but it was another habit he’d been taught by his father – the courtesy of leaving a note to let a family member know where you were and when to expect you back.

“I left you a note,” Trevor said as he bent to remove his tennis shoes.

“I saw it. But it’s after midnight. I was expecting you home forty-five minutes ago.”

     Then in that case, if you were Pops, you would have come looking for me, instead of sitting here watching TV.

     Trevor was surprised at the bitter note behind his thoughts, but chalked his feelings up to weariness and a sore face.

     It was that sore face that prompted his mother to set her journal on the coffee table and stand when Trevor stepped out of the shadows of the foyer.

     “Honey, what happened?”

Trevor thought of lying to his mother. He knew exactly what he could say that she’d believe.  He could tell her that he and Zach were racing one another down the sidewalk and that he fell. He almost did say it, but then he remembered Captain Blain’s words about being a man, and how so much of the reason why he was in New York in the first place was because he wanted to prove to his father that he deserved to be treated like a man.

“I...some guys tried to mug me.”

“Trevor!”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

Ashton led her son to the couch.  As she carefully probed his face she said, “It looks like these wounds have been cleaned.”

“They have been. The paramedics from Station 83 took care of them for me.”

“You were hurt badly enough that someone called paramedics?”

“No, no,” Trevor said, then told his mother how the men from Station 83 just happened to come along while the mugging was in process.

“That was a blessing,” Ashton said. 

“Yeah, it was.”

Ashton parted Trevor’s hair and probed for bumps while asking him if he’d been hit on the head or had lost consciousness.

“No.”

“You’re not dizzy or nauseous?”

“No.”

“And you’re not hurt anywhere else?”

“Just some bruises around my ribs, but I’m okay.”

“Let me see.”

“Mom...”

“Trevor, let me see.”

Trevor unbuttoned his khaki safari shirt and allowed his mother to examine his ribcage.  As he knew would be the case, she didn’t find any signs of injury, and he was able to tell her that no, he didn’t feel any pain each time she palpated his ribs and then his abdomen. When Trevor’s mother asked him if he’d reported this to police, he told her the same he’d told Captain Blain. He hadn’t gotten a look at the faces of the boys who assaulted him, so what was the point?  His mother didn’t insist they call the cops anyway, like his father would have, which further emphasized to the young man how different his mother and father were in terms of their parenting styles.

“Okay, Mr. Gage, you can button your shirt,” the doctor said to her son with a smile.  “I believe you’re fine.”

“I am.”

Ashton reached out and fingered combed Trevor’s thick bangs back into place. “Good. And since you are fine, we won’t mention this incident to your father, all right?”

Trevor mulled this suggestion over a moment. It’s not as though he wanted to mention this to his father, especially since he’d been told by his father not to walk home after dark, but still, he found it surprising that his mother wasn’t going to make him tell Pops. Or, if nothing else, tell Johnny herself. Trevor knew Pops would tell her if something like this had happened to him in Eagle Harbor. 

“Trev?”

“All right. If that’s what you want.”

“I think it will be easier on both of us if we don’t bare our souls where this matter is concerned, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I know your father has told you not to walk home after dark.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he’s told me not to let you walk home after dark.”

“Oh.”

Then where were you tonight when you read my note and knew I’d be getting off of work so late?

“So, from now on, honey, please call a cab if it’s dark when you get off of work, okay?”

“Okay,” Trevor acknowledged, while at the same time pushing away the disappointment he was feeling over the fact that his mother didn’t say she’d pick him up if he had to work late, or that she’d have Franklin do so.  Again, it was another reminder of how different his life was in her household as opposed to what it had been in his father’s household. 

Trevor stood to button his shirt and tuck it back into the olive green cargo pants he was wearing. 

“Now, young man, I think you’d better get to bed,” Ashton said, as she turned off the TV.  “Everyone else is asleep, so you and I should join them.”

Trevor couldn’t deny that he was tired, but other than the first two weeks he’d spent here, he so rarely had time alone with his mother, that if he was going to get a question answered that had been plaguing him for months, now was the time to ask it.

“Mom?”

Ashton looked up as she set the remote control on the corner of a marble-topped end table. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“How come you and Pops never got married?”

Silence lingered in the room.

“Mom? How come? It’s because he didn’t ask you, isn’t it? It’s because he didn’t want to make a commitment to you.”

Ashton looked her son in the eyes, eyes such a deep shade of chocolate brown like his father’s.

“That’s it, right?” Trevor pushed on when his mother didn’t answer him. “He didn’t want to make a commitment to you, did he?”

Ashton didn’t answer her son.  Instead, she put an arm around Trevor’s shoulders. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To the kitchen. I didn’t have any supper, how about you?”

“Just a sandwich on my break at five o’clock.”

“Then I’ll make us some scrambled eggs and toast.”

“But I wanna know about you and Pops. About what happened. About why the two of you never got married.”

“If you think you’re ready to hear some things you might not like, then I’ll tell you,” Ashton said softly. “But in the kitchen, while we eat.”

Trevor hesitated a moment, but when he saw his mother would have it no other way, he nodded.  He didn’t even know she could cook, since he’d never seen her do that domestic chore in all the years he’d been visiting her.

The living room and formal dining room were really one vast room in the center of the apartment.  Franklin’s study and the master bedroom suite were housed in a short hallway off the living room, while the remaining three bedrooms and bathroom were in a hallway behind the dining room. The kitchen was through a swinging door off the north end of the dining room.  Trevor followed his mother into the room, squinting slightly as the bright overhead light she turned on assaulted his eyes.

As anxious as Trevor was to continue the conversation that had been started in the living room, he respected his mother’s silence as she prepared scrambled eggs while instructing Trevor to make toast.  Considering her profession, she was generally conscientious about the foods she ate, therefore Trevor was surprised to see her add shredded cheese to the eggs, and pull out a frozen bag of hash browns that she cooked in a separate pan. She smiled at her son when she caught him watching her. 

“Just don’t snitch on me to Franklin, okay?”

“Okay.”

Trevor got out plates and silverware, and set the items on the center island behind him.  When the food was dished up, his mother poured herself a glass of orange juice, and her son a glass of milk.

“You love milk, just like your father always did.”

“He still does. He drinks even more of it now that he quit drinking coffee a few years ago.”

“I’m sure he does,” Ashton agreed.

Trevor carried the plates to the square oak table at the far end of the kitchen, his mother following with the beverages. They ate in silence until their plates were half empty, then Ashton sat back in her chair and dapped at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“That tastes good, even if I do say so myself.” 

“It is good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ashton played with her fork a moment, and then asked, “Trevor, do want to hear the truth about your father and me, even if that truth isn’t what you expect it to be?”

“I wanna hear it.”

“Even if it hurts you?”

“Hurts me? How is it gonna hurt me?”

“Trev, not every situation in life is as we imagine it to have been. Especially a situation like this – one you have no memory of.  I get the impression you’ve created a certain...vision in your mind of the time your father and I spent together.  If you find out that vision is wrong, can you accept that?”

“Sure I can.”

“Don’t sound so certain of something you know nothing about, sweetheart.”

“But how can I know about it if you and Pops won’t tell me?”

“Just what has your father told you?”

“All he’s told me is that the two of you never got married because it wouldn’t have worked out.”

“And what do you think about that?”

“I think it’s an excuse, for one thing. I think he doesn’t want to tell me that he never asked you, and that eventually you got tired of waiting around for him to, and left us. Then you came here to New York and found other opportunities, and that was the end of it. Even if Pops had wanted to ask you, it was too late.” 

“I see. Well, son, you’re wrong. Your father asked me to marry him numerous times. I...I continuously turned him down.”

Trevor’s jaw dropped. For so many months now, he had been certain he’d had his parents’ relationship figured out.  He had been certain he knew the reasons why a marriage never took place, and why he’d been raised clear across the country from his mother.  He’d thought it was his father’s fault. He’d thought his father had somehow driven his mother away.

“But...but why?”

     “For a number of reasons, the main one being exactly what he told you.  A marriage between us just wasn’t going to work out.”

     “But why not?”

     “Honey, look around you. Look at how I live.  Look at where I live. Look at the lifestyle I’ve created for myself.”

     “Yeah? So?”

     “Now think of your father and the man he is. Of where he lives, and the lifestyle he’s created for himself and you.  Do you really think John...your father, would be happy living here in New York in this apartment?”

     Trevor thought of his life in Eagle Harbor. The home in the wilderness surrounded by pine trees and mountains. The barn and the animals it contained.  The way his father loved to hike, and camp, and fish, and ride horses. The way his father loved the responsibilities he had to the hamlet of Eagle Harbor and the surrounding small communities.  The way everyone knew his father by name and by sight, and depended on him for so many things. Important things, like running Eagle Harbor’s fire department and paramedic program.  Fun things, like organizing the town’s picnic each summer and Christmas parade each winter.  Charitable things, like the holiday food and clothing drive. And then the things John Gage didn’t get paid for, like visiting elderly people who were housebound and in need of periodic basic medical care such as blood pressure checks or a minor wound treated. 

“I...I...no, I don’t guess Pops would wanna live like this.”

     “He doesn’t. He didn’t.  That’s one of the reasons why things didn’t work out between us.”

     “But you guys lived together for seven years. How could you live together for seven years and not figure out a way to make it work?”

     “Seven years?”

     “Yeah.”

     “We only lived together for six years, sweetie. Actually, about five and half.”

     “Huh?”

     “We went our separate ways right after you were born.”

     “What?”

     “You didn’t know?”

     “No. I...I guess I always assumed that you and Pops lived together until he and I moved to Eagle Harbor when I was a year old. That’s when I thought you came to New York.  I...I thought he drove you away. I thought he wouldn’t let you take me with you.”

     “How long have you thought this?”

     “I don’t know.  I guess for the past six months or so.”

     “Trevor, I realize you and father haven’t gotten along very well since Christmas, but it sounds to me as though you’ve been fabricating things in your mind in an effort to have a reason to be angry with him.”

     “No, I haven’t been! And besides, it’s not my fault he won’t tell me the truth.”

     “To a large extent, he did tell you the truth when he told you that things weren’t going to work out between himself and me.”

     “But—“

     Ashton held up a hand to silence her son, who, when he got on a rant, could be just like his father when it came to trying to stop him. “And I strongly suspect the reason he hasn’t told you more than that is because he’s afraid the truth would hurt you. Along with that, he’s protecting me, and protecting my relationship with you.”

     “Protecting you?  How?  Why?”

     “The why is easy. Because that’s just the kind of man he is. The how...this is the how...if you think you’re old enough to hear the truth, that is.”

     “I’m old enough.”

     And so Trevor heard the how.  He heard how his mother hadn’t wanted children back then. He heard how her schooling and career were her top priorities during the years she was living with his father. He heard how she had wanted to have an abortion when she found out she was pregnant with him, and he heard how his father had begged her not to.  Then he heard how, on the day he was born, his mother handed him to his father and said, “Here. He's yours. You wanted him, you raise him.” 

     After that, Trevor heard how his mother had not returned to the condominium his father had owned in Denver when she was released from the hospital after his birth, but instead had lived with a girlfriend for a short period of time before moving to New York. According to Trevor’s mother, it then wasn’t until he was three years old that she had expressed interest in establishing a relationship with him.

     “I can’t and won’t make excuses for the past, Trevor,” the woman said when her story was done.  “I’ve been very blessed to get to know you as my son these past twelve years, and to have you in my life.  If it hadn’t been for your father’s willingness, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you at all. He’s your custodial parent.  He could have refused my request to have a yearly visit with you, especially considering you were three before I expressed a desire to establish that arrangement.  If John had wanted to fight me on it, it’s quite possible a judge would have ruled for him based on the fact that I had willingly walked out of your life the day you were born.  And then, added to that, the fact that through e-mails and phone calls, your father has kept me abreast of so many of your accomplishments and events these past twelve years. Again, he didn’t have to do that, and honestly, I never asked him to. You’re his whole world, Trevor, and he’s done his best to make certain you’re a part of my world, too, even though I think, deep down, there have been times when John wishes I’d never come back into his life when you were three.”

     “Why?”

     Ashton gave her son a sad smile. “Don’t you think it might be hard for him to see me married to Franklin?  Don’t you think it might be hard for him to have to communicate with the woman who turned down his marriage proposals?”

     “Yeah,” Trevor nodded thoughtfully, “I suppose it is.”

     The woman reached across the table and grasped her son’s hand in hers.

“Trevor, I can’t tell you what to think of me as a result of what you’ve just learned. Only you can sort out your feelings about all of this. I’ll respect anything you decide, or whatever choices you make, now that you know the truth. I had never planned to tell you any of this, any more than it sounds like your father planned to share it with you. But I couldn’t let you go on blaming your father for something that wasn’t his fault, or assuming things about his role in the breakup of our relationship that just aren’t true. Your father is a good man, Trevor. He loves you so much. He wanted you so much. Despite the fact that the day you were born marked the end of our relationship, your father’s eyes lit up every time he held you.  He did what a lot of men in his position wouldn’t have.  He took you with him and made a home for you.  He always worked his schedule, and his life, around you and your needs.  He passed up a promotion within the Denver Fire Department when you were just weeks old, because he knew it would interfere with his ability to be with you.  He chose to move to Eagle Harbor because he didn’t want to raise you in a big city, but instead, wanted to give you the safety and security of small town life. Whether or not the choices he made for himself are choices I would have made, is neither here nor there.  John’s choices have always been based on what’s best for you, and I can never fault him for that.”

Trevor nodded because the lump in his throat wouldn’t allow him to speak. He squeezed his mother’s hand, while keeping his eyes on his plate. When he released her hand and stood, he kissed the top of her head, said softly, “I love you, Mom. Thanks for telling me,” and headed for his bedroom.

Ashton knew she’d given Trevor a lot to think about.  As she began cleaning up the kitchen, she wondered how much longer it would be before he decided to return to Eagle Harbor.

_____________________

Libby,

     My mom told me some really shocking news last night.  She wanted to have an abortion when she was pregnant with me, but Pops begged her not to. He had asked her to marry him a lot of times, too, but she kept telling him no. I wish Pops had told me the truth when I’d asked, but I realize he was trying to protect my mom. Trying to make her look good in my eyes, you know what I mean?  I wish he hadn’t done that, though.  I wish he’d told me the truth, because now I know I said some things that must have hurt him a lot.

     I got mugged last night, but they didn’t get my wallet, and I’m okay. Pops had told me not to walk home from the Gap after dark, but I did anyway.  I’m going to tell him about it when I talk to him. I know he’ll be mad, but that’s okay, because I deserve to get yelled at.

     Today’s my day off from work, and I’m glad. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.

Trevor    

     Chapter 19

     The last morning spent at Chet’s home wasn’t designated as a morning for work, but instead, it was a morning to load the vehicles, clean the cabinets and refrigerator of all food, and secure the house.  By nine o’clock, three vehicles were headed toward the town of Jackson Lake, where Chet was buying everyone breakfast. Johnny’s gear had been loaded into Roy’s mini-van so that he’d have as few delays as possible when dropping off his rented Explorer.

     Johnny didn’t reveal to anyone that he still wasn’t feeling well.  Despite the fact that he’d had eleven hours of sleep, he was tired and plagued by severe muscle aches. His headache was more of a dull throb now, rather than a vicious pound, but nonetheless, it was painful. Roy thought Johnny looked pale and seemed sluggish as they folded their cots and sleeping bags, but when he asked Johnny if he was all right, Roy was told, “Yeah, I’m fine,” so didn’t pursue the matter.

     When all Johnny ordered for breakfast was orange juice and toast, Chet quipped, “What’s goin’ on, Gage?  You on a diet or something?”

     “No. I’m just not that hungry.”

     “Since when?”

     “Since now, Chet, okay?”

     “Geez, Gage, you don’t have to get testy about it. When a guy’s offering to buy you breakfast you should take him up on it.”

     “Tell ya’ what, Kelly, the next time I feel like pancakes, eggs, hash browns, bacon, and French toast all in one sitting, I’ll give you a call.”

     “Hey, I’m retired now, remember?  My generosity isn’t gonna extend that far.  Do me a favor and lose my number before you get that hungry.”

     “I’ve been tryin’ to lose your number for years, Kelly, but every time I do, you buy an old house and manage to track me down.”

     “Shut up, Gage.”

     “No, Kelly. You shut up.”

     Roy and Marco exchanged smiles over the fact that the week was going to end just as it had begun, with a typical Johnny and Chet exchange. Roy figured that, despite Johnny’s meager breakfast, he couldn’t be feeling that bad if he was up to bantering with Chet.

     When breakfast had been eaten and the bill paid, the men gathered in the restaurant’s parking lot to say goodbye.

     Chet held his hand out to Johnny. “Gage, even though you’re still a pain in the ass, thanks for all your help these past two weeks.”

     Johnny shook the hand he was offered, only to jump and howl, “Chet!” when he grasped a buzzer.

     Chet laughed. “Told you the Phantom was gonna have to come out of retirement.”

     “Yeah, well if you ever want my help again, you’ll put him back in retirement.”

     “Aw, Gage, ever since you’ve become a big shot up there in Alaska you’re no fun,” Chet said as he climbed behind the wheel of his Jeep.  “See you guys next Saturday at Roy’s.” 

“See ya’ next Saturday,” Roy confirmed to Chet, Marco, and Ryan.

     “See ya’ Saturday,” Johnny said.  “But leave the damn buzzer at home.”

     That directive sent Chet into a new round of laughter. “Like I said, Gage, you’re no fun.  But, hey, thanks a lot. And I mean that.”

     “You’re welcome.”

     As Chet drove his Jeep out of the parking lot, Roy and Johnny got in their vehicles.  Johnny led the way through Jackson Lake, and then on to Fresno.  It was noon when Johnny climbed in the passenger seat of Roy’s mini-van.  Roy had waited in the parking lot of the rental car agency while Johnny returned the Explorer.

     “Everything all set?” Roy asked.

     “Yeah.”

     “You hungry?”

     “Not really, but if you wanna stop somewhere, go ahead.”

     “No, I’m not hungry yet. I’ll drive a while.  I just thought you might be hungry since you didn’t have much for breakfast.”

     “No, I’m okay.”

     “All right,” Roy nodded.  

     Johnny kept up his end of the small talk Roy engaged him in for the next few minutes, but then fell silent.  Several miles later, Roy glanced to his right and saw that his friend was sleeping.   

     Geez, Junior, and I was even gonna let you drive.

     Roy had to wake Johnny up when he pulled into the parking lot of a Burger King at two o’clock. 

     “Hey, Johnny, wake up.  Let’s get something to eat.”

     Much like that morning at Chet’s house, Johnny seemed sluggish and sore.