Disorderly Conduct

by Mary Feliz

  How would I explain to Max that our children were sharing a medevac helicopter with a man who’d held an assault weapon on them?

  “They’ll be fine, Maggie. And I’ll get you there as soon as possible.” As usual, Stephen left me with the comforting but also creepy feeling that he’d read my mind. “You can call Max on the way. Ready, guys?” He turned to Teddy, Belle, and Munchkin, the only remaining members of our little band. I stood, gathered a jacket I thought might be Brian’s, attached Belle’s leash, and followed Stephen back to the car. It was barely dark enough to require the use of a flashlight, but I deployed mine anyway, for comfort. Under other circumstances, it might have been pleasant to hike through the quiet preserve, listening to the evening sounds and watching the sun set, the rise of the planets, and the emergence of the stars. But not now.

  I ran to catch up with Stephen. “So, what about that assault weapon? Who was that guy? And why on earth did you decide it was okay to put him on that helicopter with my kids? You heard the shots, Stephen. And that man had a bullet wound. He’d been in a gunfight. A gunfight. Like the Wild West. Was his gun empty because he’d poured all his ammunition into someone else? Why wasn’t he in handcuffs? Did he hurt the boys? What happened? Why didn’t they call?”

  Stephen turned and put his arm around me, but kept us moving forward. “The boys were in a dead zone with no phone service. I made the emergency calls on my radio, remember? As for the rest, it’s a long story, Maggie. Let’s wait ’til we get to Stanford, and I’ll fill both you and Max in while we wait. There’ll be lots of waiting. There always is. For now, I’ll tell you that I heard enough to know that Martín is a good man who protected your children. Think for a moment. Did they seem afraid of him?”

  I sighed. Stephen was right. The boys, though injured and fearful, had not seemed afraid of the stranger. And the dogs hadn’t leaped to protect us from him, either. I forced myself to breathe out hard and inhale slowly to keep from hyperventilating. Teddy caught up with me and held on to my sleeve. If he’d been a few years younger, he might have held my hand. If I’d been his actual mother, he still might have. As it was, the teen had a death grip on my hoodie, creating wrinkles that time might never iron out. I put my hand over Teddy’s, soaking up the comfort that came from reassuring someone else. “Stephen says the boys are in good hands and we’ll have answers soon,” I told him. I wanted to tell him that everything would be okay, but so much had already happened that wasn’t anywhere close to okay. I doubted he’d believe me.

  Back at Stephen’s SUV, he pulled a magnetic emergency light from the passenger seat and slapped it on the roof, then activated a siren I didn’t know he had. “Seat belts,” he said, putting the vehicle in gear without waiting to be sure we’d buckled up. We were only a few minutes from Stanford.

  I called Max. He’d already received a call from Ranger Kon Sokolov relaying the news that the boys had been found and were on the way to Stanford Hospital for the treatment of injuries that were not life-threatening. After he verified that I was uninjured, he said he’d meet me in the emergency room and ended the call.

  Now that there was nothing left for me to do, I took quick shallow breaths, and my hands shook. I grew sweaty and choked down sobs. I checked on Teddy, who looked pale. He grabbed my hands. Belle leaned against Teddy. Munchkin, confined to the flat back cargo area, put a giant paw on Teddy’s shoulder. Stephen checked the rearview mirror, then reached for a padded cooler on the floor. He tossed it to me.

  “Sugar,” he said. “After the adrenaline rush. Tank up. I don’t have time to deal with either one of you fainting on me.”

  I unzipped the cooler and handed Teddy a soda, watching and waiting until he’d taken a sip. “You too, Maggie,” Stephen said.

  Stephen pulled the SUV up near the emergency room entrance and parked. A teenager who moved like a cop, even in jeans and a faded T-shirt, ran to the car. “The chopper arrived,” he said when Stephen rolled down the window. “I can’t tell you anything about the patients except that the doctors say they’re in good shape. The chief’s taken the dog to the emergency vet and said he’d be back as soon as the vet says Mozart’s stable. The EMTs pumped him full of fluids. He was wagging his tail.”

  “Thanks, Todd. Good man. You willing to park the SUV for me?”

  “If I don’t, Chief will kill me.”

  “Can’t have that.” Stephen tossed him the keys. “See you inside?”

  Todd nodded.

  I held Belle’s leash in one hand and Munchkin’s in the other, wondering what to do with the dogs while I checked on Brian and David.

  Teddy stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “I can wait out here with them while you go in.”

  “Nope,” said Stephen. “They’re medically necessary for the recovery of those patients inside.” He took Munchkin’s leash and strode confidently toward the door, flashing an ID at the guard on duty and the clerk staffing the registration desk inside the door. Both officials seemed to know him and waved him through, smiling as Teddy, Belle, and I followed. From the busy waiting room filled with uncomfortable patients and worried families, we toddled after Stephen like baby ducks after their mother. He led us through two sets of double doors into a small, quiet lounge. Max and Elaine looked up as we walked in.

  “Any news?” Max enveloped me in a hug. Belle and Munchkin made the rounds, sniffing pockets for treats. Elaine put her arm around Teddy and held him close.

  “They couldn’t tell me anything outside,” Stephen said. “Patient privacy. Have the kids seen a doctor? A nurse?”

  Max shook his head. “Like you, we’ve heard nothing yet.”

  “Hang tight,” Stephen said. “Let me see what I can find out.”

  As if summoned by the words, a young man in scrubs and rubber clogs opened the door. After stepping aside to let Stephen out of the room, he leaned in through the doorway. “I’m headed to the cafeteria. You guys need anything? I’ve asked volunteers to freshen up the coffee supplies, but if you need sandwiches, comfort food, anything, say the word.”

  I shook my head, still feeling overwhelmed. The room’s walls insulated us from the hospital bustle and confusion, but the muffled public address announcements, coupled with the incessant click, pause, click, pause, click of an industrial clock, put me on edge. The smell of antiseptics mixed with burnt coffee, stewed cabbage, and other earthier and more pungent fragrances. Those odors, combined with the unmistakable smell of human fear, forced me to wrestle with my instinct to run.

  Why were we getting special treatment? A lounge to ourselves? Was it because the boys’ situation was more critical than anyone had let on? Had something terrible happened on the way here?

  “Whoa, Maggie. You turned a little gray there. Let’s sit you down. If you fall and break something, it won’t help anyone.” Max led me to a chair and sat beside me, holding my hand.

  Elaine pulled up a chair for Teddy and another for herself. She filled a pink hospital emesis basin with water for Belle and another for Munchkin. “Be as tidy as you can, please. Slurp carefully.” She pulled a plastic bag of cookies out of her voluminous quilted bag, then handed each of us a gingerbread man and a bottle of water.

  I grabbed Elaine’s hand. “Thanks so much for being here.” I wanted to say more, but I didn’t know what to say or where to start. I needed to tell Max about the boys and the stranger with the gun, but how could I when I didn’t have any of the information yet myself? Elaine filled the conversational void.

  “Where else would I be?” she asked. “I dropped Teddy’s bike off at your house, and was keeping Max company while he waited for news. When we heard the boys were on their way here, we both jumped in our cars. No discussion.”

  I started to tell them what little I knew about the boys’ injuries when Stephen returned. We all looked up as he entered the room.

  Elaine was the first to speak. “Don’t just stand ther
e, dear. Grab a chair and tell us what you know.” Stephen did as he was told, and the dogs flopped at our feet. “Give me a sec. My thoughts are a jumble.” He took a sip of water, then turned to Max. “How long have you been here? Have you seen the kids?”

  “Not yet.” Max looked around the lounge. “What is this place? I gave them my name at the registration desk and told them I was looking for Brian and David. They swept Elaine and me in here fast enough to give us whiplash. Are they alright? Is this one of those spaces where, you know, family...”

  I knew where Max’s thoughts were headed. The same place mine were. I feared we’d been isolated so that the hospital could deliver bad news in private.

  Stephen gasped. “Oh. Not at all. Sorry.” He chuckled, then grew serious. “This is where cops and their families wait. Special privileges for service personnel. Teachers, soldiers, nurses, cops—we do the same kinds of jobs. Lots of stress without a lot of money. We support each other when times get tough, and there’s nothing more grueling than the hospital. They stash us in here to keep us from overwhelming the waiting room. You can imagine what passes for chitchat when law enforcement officers get together, and it isn’t what you want the general public to overhear.”

  “Now we’ve got that out of the way...” He rubbed his bald head, scratched his beard, then stared at the ceiling for inspiration. “Don’t panic. I’m figuring out where to start, not how to break bad news. Both Brian and David are in pretty good shape. They were brought in on the chopper along with Martín and Mozart because they were off the main trail more than a mile from the trailhead and it would have been silly to send an ambulance or even transport them in the car when the helicopter was already nearby. The chopper put down right next to us and scooped up all four of them. Helicopter does not equal catastrophe. Are we clear?”

  We nodded like a row of bobbleheads on giveaway day at the ballpark.

  “I got the scoop on Mozart because he’s not covered by patient privacy laws. He took a rattlesnake bite to the snout, likely from a big-old-grandpa kind of snake. His bite was intended to tell Mozart to get lost. If he injected poison, chances are it wasn’t a lethal dose. Maggie said he’s had the vaccine.” Stephen turned to me for confirmation.

  “Yes. In April.”

  “Good. Some vets don’t think the shots do much good, but guys I know with dogs who’ve been bitten—mostly search-and-rescue dogs—swear by them.” He reached out a hand to pat Munchkin, and Belle nudged her nose under his arm to share the love. “And we’re enrolling all of you in the next positive-reinforcement rattler avoidance training class I can find.”

  “That’s a thing?” Teddy asked.

  “Yup. Works too.”

  The door squeaked open again, and I looked up, hoping for news on the boys.

  “This is Todd.” Stephen stood and introduced us to the police intern we’d briefly met outside. The young man pulled up a chair behind Stephen.

  “Now the boys. Maggie’s probably the best judge of Brian’s state of health, right? He was having some breathing issues, and there’s nothing like a mom for sizing up that kind of problem. Good move bringing the inhaler. A doctor is looking at him now. The doc in charge of the ER said he’ll swing by in a few minutes and take you to him.”

  Max squeezed my hand. “He’ll be fine,” I said with enough confidence that I believed it myself. “He was wheezing less by the time the EMTs arrived, though he wasn’t wasting his breath on talking. Wasn’t smiling. Distressed, but”—I scanned the room, noting the weariness and worried expressions—“aren’t we all?” I sighed again. “My guess is they’ll put him on an IV to get his fluids up, maybe put him on oxygen for a bit, and give him some prednisone to relax those breathing passages.”

  “And David?” Max had scrunched up his face in a way that suggested he was trying to look hopeful but couldn’t quite manage it.

  I tried to read Stephen’s face. I knew nothing about orthopedics and only knew that David’s ankle was swollen and bruised. The David I knew would have hobbled out on it without accepting assistance if it had been possible to do so.

  Stephen frowned. “I told him he’d live. Beyond that, it’s hard to say. Could be sprained. Might be broken. Either way, I think his cross-country season is over. Marching band might not be possible, either. But I don’t know. Kids heal fast.”

  Max’s expression turned dour as he absorbed the news. “With everything else that’s been happening, cross-country’s the least of our worries.” He let out a long, slow breath and bit the head off his gingerbread man, then took a big slug of water. “So, what’s next?” he mumbled with his mouth full. “What happened out there, and who is Martín?”

  Stephen started to answer, but Teddy leaned forward. “I’ve got this part,” Teddy said. “Brian and David were tag-teaming me to keep me busy and distracted. We knew we weren’t supposed to run in the burned areas, go up on the ridge, or start our backpacking trip. We figured we’d follow the path system toward Arastradero and find the trailhead we’d use if and when we were allowed to do that trek to the ocean.”

  Teddy seemed hyperaware of our reactions, flinching at the slightest move from Stephen or Max. Elaine put her arm around him. “You’re doing great, dear. Did you leave a note?”

  Teddy nodded. Now was not the time to tell him they’d left the note in the place we were least likely to have seen it. Nor was it important to quibble about the contents and the fact that they hadn’t revealed their destination or expected return time. We’d cover that in a few days, when it would sound instructive rather than scolding.

  “We weren’t going to be gone long. Maybe an hour or two. We didn’t bring water or snacks or anything. Bad move.” He tsked and shook his head.

  “It’s okay. We just want to know what happened.” I tried to reassure him. “Sounds like you did everything right. You left a note and stayed together. You kept David warm too. To prevent shock.”

  Teddy took up the thread of his tale, “Part of the trail was shaded and cool, so we stopped for a bit. It was about that time we realized Brian was lagging behind and that his heavy breathing was because of his asthma, not because we’d been pushing the pace. The dogs were panting too. And we hadn’t brought any water. We got nervous standing there, what with the things that ranger guy had told us about bad guys and mountain lions and snakes. David wanted to turn around, but Brian thought he’d feel better if he could get some water at the trailhead.” Teddy took a long sip of water as if to demonstrate. “The rattler came after that.”

  Chapter 27

  Consider a Personal Locator Beacon (PLB) that allows you to send a distress signal in an emergency. Used appropriately, a PLB can help search-and-rescue personnel find you quickly.

  From the Notebook of Maggie McDonald

  Simplicity Itself Organizing Services

  Wednesday, August 9, Evening

  Teddy shuddered. “The snake was around a bend where the trail headed into the sun, and it was hard to see. I heard Mozart and saw his hair standing up before I saw the snake. I wanted to hold him back, you know. Keep him safe.” Teddy’s voice broke, and his eyes grew distant. He switched to present tense as if events were unfolding in real time. “Mozart’s protecting me. He barks, pounces, and then screams like the world is ending. Brian and Belle bump into me from behind.” He glanced at his heel, where his sock had a bloody stain. “David’s between us, but off to the right, closest to the snake. I can’t see either one of them, but he yells. Loud. And then I see him. He’s fallen. He tries to get up but can’t, so he scrambles away from the snake.”

  Teddy turned pale and started shaking, then grabbed his elbows with his palms to hug himself. Elaine put her arm around him. “The dogs are barking. Brian can’t breathe. David and I are shouting, and no one knows where the snake is...” His voice trailed off, and the room was silent, save for the loud ticking of the institutional wall clock. “We couldn’t see a
nyone. That trail is usually so busy, but there was no one. I told Brian to check out Mozart and keep him quiet in case he’d been bitten. And I got David back up on the path. I don’t know how. I couldn’t see the snake anywhere, or hear him. We made so much noise he was probably long gone, but it felt like there could be snakes everywhere.

  “We’re just sittin’ there on the trail, trying to catch our breath. Brian looks bad. David wants to show how he can move his toes. But he can’t. I’m scared but trying not to look it, ’cause, you know, David’s, like, fearless. But I look at his face. His eyes get big and he turns grayish. At first, I think he’s going into shock. That foot must be bad. Get him warm. Get the foot up. Call 9-1-1. But then we heard gunshots.” He stopped speaking and watched our faces as if gauging our reactions.

  “We all heard the gunshots,” Max said. “Were they close to you?”

  Teddy shook his head. “It was hard to tell with all the echoes. And after the snake, it was like we didn’t believe it. We all kinda froze and stared at each other. Ordinarily, I guess we’d have leaped for cover, but with the snake, none of us wanted to go anywhere that we couldn’t see the ground. So we just froze. And then I hear this noise behind me, and I’m afraid to turn around. Both Brian and David are staring at something behind me, and Belle and Mozart are growling. I’m picturing some kind of werewolf or swamp creature or zombie—somethin’ out of a horror film. I see Brian scrambling backward on his butt. So, I take a deep breath and turn around. And then I blink, ’cause I can’t really believe what I’m seeing is real.”

  “Martín?” I asked

  “Yup. Dirty, in fatigues, looking like something out of an action movie with this giant gun. Giant gun.” He flung his arms wide, extending them to their full length, which was about double the actual size of the assault weapon Stephen had confiscated from Martín.