Failings of the Fathers: 57

It was in the middle of his conversation with his new father that Todd got an uncanny feeling he could not shake.  It interrupted his own sentence, and he stopped and stared for a moment.

"Todd, are ya all right?"

He didn't respond for a few seconds, and then finally, "Yeah, yeah I'm okay.  I just . . . had a bad feeling, all of the sudden, that's all."

"What bad feeling?" Timothy asked.

"Something . . . not sure.  Something's wrong."  he spoke absently, as if he had forgotten who he was with and why.

"I'll call the hospital," Timothy said, going to the phone.

"No, it's nothing, Dad.  Really. We would have gotten a call.  It's just too much Chinese."

"Are ya sure?"

Todd wasn't, but he didn't want to alarm his father further.  "Yeah, I'm sure, it was just a gas bubble or something.  I ate too late and too fast."  He patted his belly, which, of course, was as flat as the floorboards.

"Y'ar patting nothing, Son.  Ya make me feel worse about this gut."

"For an old guy, you really don't have one."

"I suppose," he said.  "Has the feeling passed?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, really."

"I've been around my sister too long, I suppose.  She and her knowings.  I'm used to it."

"Well, I don't have those.  I'm just a regular dude."

"Dude.  My God, what is that?"

"Guy.  Fellow.  Pal."

"Ah."

"We'd get a call, Dad.  I'm sure of it.  You wanna turn in?  Tired?"

"Do ya?"

"Not really yet.  I don't sleep a lot.  I think it's habit from when I was a kid."

"Ah, a short sleeper.  I've read about those."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't need a lot of sleep, and sleep for short amounts of hours.  They can still work, and do whatever they usually do, on a lot less sleep."

"Hmm, could be me."

"Could be."

He didn't want to upset Timothy, but the bad feeling had not really passed.  In fact, it was lodged somewhere between his throat and abdomen, like bad food.  He swallowed and continued, "So, do we watch late night TV then?"

"I'll definitely be out like a light, then," Timothy admitted.  "I'm not sure I want to leave ya alone."

"You won't make it as long as I can awake.  Short sleeper," he said, pointing to himself.  

Timothy stood, "Then I guess I'll turn in.  Ya'll wake me if . . . anything?"

"Yeah, I'll wake you."

***

Williams barely got the limo into park when Blair came running out of it, her shoes already off her feet, and opened the door to the mansion.  Once inside, seeing no activity and hearing nothing, she bolted to the back door, and threw it open, ending up on the patio.  Jenna was standing there, holding the basket.  Blair went to her and said, "What happened?" and took the baby from her.  She held Jewel to her chest, even though she was drifting in and out of sleep, and patted her baby.

Jack came back around the corner from Malcolm's cottage and said, "Mom, I'm . . . I'm sorry, Mom."

His voice was shaking.

Blair said, "Tell me, now.  Tell me fast, Jack."

"I didn't listen to you.  I left.  I left Starr with the kids, and something happened."

"What is it?  Say it, please!"

"Someone . . . maybe the new guy, I don't know . . .hurt Starr.  She's at the hospital.  She was beat up, bad.  Perzno took her."

"Oh my God," she said, faltering.  "Jack, is she alive?  What else, what is it?"

"Whoever it was, he . . .he . . ."

She knew her son was trying, and she looked past him to the dead dog on the ground.  She gasped, "God, no, what the Hell went on here?"

"He . . .Mom . . ."

Jenna broke in.  "He took Ray.  That's what Starr said.  She also said, 'but, Sam' before she passed out.  We're not sure if he took him, too, or if they somehow both got away and are hiding . . ."

Blair lost her balance and almost went down.  Jenna took the baby, and Jack grabbed Blair's arm in time to help her to the nearest chair.  She cried into her hands, and then, magically snapped out of it and said, "We have to find the boys.  They're here."

"I looked, Mom.  Everywhere."

"Did you search the house?"

"No.  I didn't, I looked out here because it's where . . ."  his eyes darted to the patch of grass that was indented and tousled, and Blair followed his glance.  She didn't want to let it register in her head that there was something that looked like blood . . .

"Go in and search the house."

Just then, a helicopter appeared overhead.  "What's that for?"

"Shaun," Jack said, going through the doors.  Jenna stayed by Blair, putting herself in charge of Jewel, and watched.  The copter ambulance pilot said, "Ma'am, I received a 911 call to this address."

Jenna said, "In that first cottage," and pointed.  Blair didn't speak.  She just sat.  The EMTs proceeded to do their work, and shortly after, They, three of them, carried Shaun out on a stretcher.  As he passed her, she cried again.  They loaded him into the copter.

After they went, Jenna said, "Mrs. Manning?"

"What?  I . . . yes?"

"What can I do?"

"Nothing," she said, standing, and started to call to her boys.

After calling their names for a long while, and getting no answers, Jack came back outside and hugged his mother.  "They're not in there.  They're not."

"They are!  Ray's always hiding!  He has to be there, and Sam."

"No, Mom.  I checked everywhere. They're . . . gone."

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed, with her hand shaking over her mouth.  "God please, not my baby boys.  Your father, I have to call your father."  She fumbled with her phone.

Jenna took it from her and found Todd's number.  The avatar assigned was a picture of them at their gold balloon wedding.  Jenna swallowed and dialed it for her, handing it back.

"Hey, beautiful," he said on the other end.  

"Todd?" she could barely croak out.

"Babe, what's the matter?"  he was immediately alarmed.

"Todd, please, come home."  Her crying was becoming out of control.

"What's wrong, Babe?  Come on, stop crying."

"Todd, please," she said, and broke down completely.  Before they had a chance to stop her, she took off running all over the property, calling both Ray and Sam, and neither came.

Jenna took the discarded the phone, and she said, "Mr. Manning?  It's Jenna."

"What's going on, Jenna?"  Todd said, already getting his jacket.  If his wife asked him to come home, he was going.

"There was something . . . something terrible has happened.  Starr's in the hospital, Ray and Sam are missing.  It's very bad, and your wife, and Jack . . ."  Jenna's voice broke.  She gulped the lump in her throat down, and said, "They need you."

"I'm on my way.  Can I talk to my wife?"

"She's . . . she's running around the yard, calling them.  I . . ."

"Put Jack on, please."  He attempted to maintain calm.   How did this happen?

"Jack."

"Dad?"  he cried.

Realizing it was too much for his son, he waited, "Jack, it's okay," he kept his voice calm while he got his keys, and walked into Timothy's part of the suite.  He woke his father, while he had Jack crying in his good ear.  "Jack, talk slow.  It's going to be all right."

"Dad, someone took Ray and maybe Sam.  He beat Starr, bad.  He killed Mixie."

"Who?  Who did that?"

"We don't know.  But we think it's that gardener."

Todd went silent.  Malcolm?  The guy who . . . he sent into his family's life?  Malcolm, who he helped in the garden . . .?

"I'm coming now.  I can't be there for about 8 hours, but I'll do the best I can.  Jack, hang on, okay?"

"Okay, Dad."

Timothy heard the last few words Todd had said as he came out of his sleep.  "What is it?  Todd, ya're scaring the pants off me."

"My boys, someone's got them.  Starr's been . . .she's been hurt.  I have to go.  I can't stay here."

"My God.  Yes, ya should go, of course."

"What's the fastest way home to the states?"

"Plane, for certain."

"I'll charter one.  Don't have time to send for mine."

"Perhaps the police here will do something?"

"No time for that, or them.  Don't think too highly of the men in blue.  Someone's got my sons."

Timothy noticed how flat and emotionless Todd was in packing the necessary things in his pockets.  "Todd," he began and put his hand on his son's shoulder.

Todd flinched him off, which surprised the older man.  "Dad, don't, please?  I can't . . . fall apart now.  My kids are in trouble.  Blair is . . . I gotta go."

He went out the hotel door, without another word.  Timothy didn't chase him down, or try and console him.  He knew his son needed to do what he was doing, his way, and get to his family, as fast as possible.

***

I think that's Mom.  Is that Mom?  It is.  It's not Starr, she was dead . . .It's Mom, but I can't answer her.  I'm cold.  My feet and my hands are cold and hot.  How can they be both?

Mom?  I want to answer you, but I can't talk.  I want to come out, but I can't move.  Mom, help me.  Jack, come get me, you know where I am. Come and get me, Jack.

Jenna was tending to the baby, who was still asleep.   She placed her basket on the couch, inside the warm house, and paced.  Jack, who had followed her, was trying to remember, again, what Starr had exactly said.  He repeated it, aloud.  "He got Ray and but, Sam.  He didn't get Sam, Jenna.  Sam's here. Will you watch Jewel?  I think I know where to find Sam."

"Of course," she said, and he was out the sliders again into the yard.

Jack made a beeline to the snow pile, and got down on his hands and knees in the mud until he was face to face with the little hole at the bottom.  As he looked in, he could see Sam, staring out.  His eyes were wide, his face red, at the cheeks and white otherwise, and his lips looked blue.  He wasn't crying, just lying there.  Jack said, "Sam, come out."

Sam didn't answer.

He said, "Squirt, come on.  It's okay.  Come on."

Sam didn't move.

"Runty, are you . . ." then he realized it.  Sam was in shock.  He couldn't talk and he couldn't move.  He reached his hands into the hole in the snowpile, and with all of his might, he yanked at Sam until he slid him out of the hole, and picked him up into his arms.  He held his brother close, but the little boy made no reaction, not even to put his arms around Jack's neck.  "I've got him," he yelled as loud as he could past Sam's ear, and Blair ran toward the house.

"Oh My God, Sam!"  she said, taking him from Jack into her arms.  He was motionless, silent.  

I want to talk, Mom.  I want to tell you that the weird man hurt Starr and . . .

"Sam, can you talk to Mommy?  Please?  Tell us what happened."

He began to cry, silent tears, but he didn't speak.

"Come on, Puny, you can talk to us," Jack said. 

"He can't," Blair said, noticing his pants were wet.  "He's been traumatized," she said, starting to cry.  "He wants to, I can see it in his eyes, but he can't.  Sam, it's okay, Baby Boy," she said, and he put his head onto her shoulder.

Jack knew she was right.

She said, "Get him upstairs and into warm, dry clothes.  We have to bring him to the hospital," she was in Mommy mode, serious and focused.  "He's going into shock."

Jack did as she asked, and marveled at her restraint.  If it were him, he would have throttled himself to death for not being there.

Blair looked at Jenna, as she followed her son inside, and said, "My baby's gone," and covered her forehead with her palm.  She fought the tears, but they flowed.  

Jenna said, "Mrs. Manning, it's all right, whatever you're feeling, all expected."

"Thank you for caring for my daughter."

"It's so easy.  She's the best baby, ever."

Blair was fighting the urge to completely fall apart.  It had crawled into her the moment she had heard Todd's voice.  But she had to be strong, for her children.  She needed him so much, and she knew it would be at least eight hours before he got there.  Hold on Blair, he's coming.  "Todd," she whispered, and cried.

Jack came down the stairs with Sam in his arms.  The little boy was crying, steadily, but silent, and was very cold.  Jack had the sense to wrap him in a blanket as well as dress him for the journey.  Blair said, "Let's get in the limo.  That's all we have.  We're taking Sam to the hospital, and then, I'll call John McBain about . . . about Little Ray."

They all loaded into the limousine.  Jenna had Jewel's basket, because she saw that Blair's hands were shaking too much to carry her, and Jack had Sam, who he quickly placed into his mother's arms, once she got into the car.  He got in, and he looked at his mother.  "Mom?"

"Don't, Jack.  Please."

They rode in silence.

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