Leah embraced him and gave him a quick, reassuring, hug.
Susan steadily watched him as a train of thought struck her.
“Brett, what exactly do you recall, and how long was this whole event for you?”
“I remember asking you and Leah to turn around,” he said. “At first I felt the breeze, and then I felt the heat that overcomes me every time I shift. It’s like when you’re running a fever, only worse, but it only lasts a few seconds. The next thing I knew I was down on all fours.
“I knew I hadn’t shifted into the wolf, because I hadn’t felt like the wolf beforehand. I was able to see you all, but then, I don’t know what happened. The next thing that I recall is moving toward the clothes that I knew belonged to me.”
“Okay, Brett,” Susan said. “So, how much time do you think passed while you were in the form of the dog?”
Brett shrugged, thought, and offered a nonchalant reply.
“I’d say about five minutes.”
Other than someone’s surprise that came in a harsh intake of breath, there was silence.
“Look at my watch, Brett,” Dylan said, walking toward him and showing him his watch.
Brett looked at the watch for several seconds before lifting his head up, his face blank, and his eyes staring off in silent wonder.
“You think only five minutes have passed?” Dylan asked.
Brett said nothing.
Susan removed her hands from the steeple position in front of her face and sighed.
“I was afraid of this,” she said.
* * * *
He stood wiping the sweat from his cooling forehead, perplexed by the fact that the team blatantly saw what he’d casually ignored for quite some time: the indisputable aspect of missing time. Although, he’d never really thought of it as missing time. He’d always assumed that he’d been merely enraptured by the freedom of the change or was simply careless with the time given to him. Now, he thought back to certain instances where a greater length of time had elapsed than he assumed.
When he’d returned from his wolf run last night after the fireworks, he realized that a few hours had passed, and Uncle Jack was alone, asleep in his bedroom. He hadn’t meant to be gone that long. It now made him wonder about the eighteen hours he’d been gone during his search for Tahoe. Another instance suddenly interrupted his thoughts—Christmas Eve. He’d left Susan’s house at night but returned home Christmas morning.
He remembered the combination of fatigue and euphoria when he’d arrived home that morning. He’d never questioned the length of time he was gone.
“Susan, what time did I leave your house on Christmas Eve?”
She shrugged and looked to the other investigators.
“Shortly after midnight, I’d say?”
The rest of the team nodded.
“And you returned home at what time the next morning?” Dylan said.
“It was sometime before six,” Brett said, looking at them all.
“There you have it, Brett,” Susan said. “There are missing moments of your life for which you cannot account. This is more dangerous than you realize. If Tahoe is on his way, then we’re staying here with you to await his arrival. All will be safe and secure until then.”
The screech of the screen door opening interrupted their conversation. Kate, Uncle Jack’s nurse, stepped out onto the porch.
“Brett,” she said. “He’s awake, now. You may all go upstairs and see him.”
Brett looked at them and sighed. Susan clasped his hands to comfort him. They moved as a team, following Kate into the house. It was time to visit Uncle Jack.
* * * *
Jack Taylor looked at each of the five faces as they appeared, one by one, through the doorway of his bedroom. He recognized them all: the sharp, blonde psychiatrist, the girl who once lived in Cedar Manor, the funny, fat kid, and Dylan, the longtime pal to his nephew, Brett. Now, when he saw Brett’s face, it was a different one. He was clean shaven, and his long hair was trimmed around his collar. But once again, Jack saw the pain, the fear, and the confusion that lay dormant beneath a well-crafted mask of bravery.
He knew the pain and fear had much do with the fact that he was leaving Brett’s life, but he hoped that what he had to tell him would help him discover the true nature of his identity. Aided by Kate, Jack sat propped up in bed, where several chairs surrounded for the occasion.
“Please, everyone, be seated,” he said, his voice weakened and frail. “Brett, you cut your hair.” It was more like a question than a statement.
“Yeah,” Brett said. “You like it?”
“Love it,” Jack said, smiling and holding his hand out for Susan, who stepped closer to greet him. She took his hand and held it in hers.
“How do you feel, Jack?” She lowered her voice to a light, soft tone.
“Content, my dear,” he said. “My main concern is him, not me.”
His eyes motioned to Brett.
“You needn’t worry, Jack,” Susan said. “We’re going to take great care of him.”
The rest of the team echoed her words as they all became seated around both sides of the bed. Jack inhaled a weakened breath and sighed. He looked at their expectant faces and then looked at Brett’s. His nephew’s hair had been neatly styled, but Jack couldn’t help noticing the sleek spots that dampened the young man’s temples.
“So, you’ve shown them,” Jack said to Brett.
“Yes, Jack,” Susan said, taking his hand again. “We’ve seen.”
Jack’s look lingered on the young man that he’d raised like his own grandson. He would miss him, but Jack knew that Viv was waiting for him. Life hadn’t been the same without her. Together, they’d raised Claudia, and then Brett, and to this day, he wouldn’t have wished it any other way. The tale he was about to tell would shift life in a new direction for Brett, yet it would also set him free. Brett was an investigator, just like the four that sat surrounding him, and with their help, he would discover the truth.
“Now that you all know,” he said. “There’s much to be told.”
He drew another intake of breath, as though it would be his last.
“Relax, Jack,” Susan said. “Take your time. Think about where you want to begin.”
Jack reached over with his other hand and clutched Brett’s in his own.
“That’s not hard,” he said, turning to him. “I’ll start with the day he was born.”
He gazed at them all for a moment before his mind drifted back to the past. Jack felt a sudden surge of life as he began to tell the tale.
Chapter Six
Langdon, Pennsylvania
October 1987
“Uncle Jack!”
Claudia screamed in between the breathing she’d learned in Lamaze class. Her short, quick breaths escalated into hard repetitive hoofs that were interrupted, once again, by the pain. Jack and Vivian followed at the foot of the rushing gurney that whizzed their niece into the maternity ward of Langdon Memorial Hospital. The baby was arriving too early.
“Just breathe, Claudia, breathe.” Vivian insisted, her voice confident that even though the baby was a few weeks premature, it would be alright.
Claudia’s screams ripped through the maternity floor, and figures in both white and green moved into action.
“It’s too early! Oh God, please help me!”
Her upper body shot upward in pain and slammed back down onto the gurney. Her sweat soaked her long brown hair, and her face was awash with a glistening glaze.
“We’re going to help you, Claudia,” a female figure in green said. “Just breathe.”
The gurney was moving away from them, taking Claudia into the sterile room where she would deliver her child into the world. Jack and Vivian followed quickly, attempting to enter the room with her. They’d planned it that way; they’d promised they’d be there.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no time for that,” the scrub nurse said. “Normally, we’d get you washed up and suited to be i
n there, but we have to work fast for this baby. You’re going to have to watch from behind the window.”
The nurse pointed to a window that provided a view of the room next door.
“They’ll take you in there, so you can watch.”
Hands directed Jack and Vivian into the next room and away from Claudia. The scream just before they’d closed the door was bloodcurdling.
“Uncle Jack!”
Jack felt his heart breaking. He watched as a mask of uncertainty and fear formed on Vivian’s face, one she’d kept well hidden until now. Her eyes were wide, her voice shaky as she turned to him.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen yet,” she said.
Vivian was referring to the fact that because Claudia hadn’t been due yet, the three of them decided that driving four hours into Langdon wouldn’t be problem. Jack and Vivian had an annual meeting with some bankers in Langdon, strictly farm business, but Vivian thought it best that she stay at home with Claudia, who usually went along. Neither of them felt comfortable leaving a sixteen-year-old expectant mother home alone. Claudia had refused, insisting that she needed to get away.
“I knew I should’ve come myself,” Jack said, spewing regret and angry self-reproach.
“Be it here, or at home, it still would’ve happened, Jack,” Viv said. “The only difference being that she and I would’ve been home alone.”
Jack argued in favor of an ambulance in that instance that would’ve taken Claudia to University Hospital, where she would’ve at least had her own doctor, as opposed to giving birth in this unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers that knew nothing of her or her situation. It wasn’t supposed to be happening this way. Vivian gripped his hand, and Jack felt the pain in his heart as Claudia’s face writhed in agony. The glass window dividing them did nothing to quell the volume of her screams.
The nurses were sponging her forehead, while the resident doctor propped Claudia’s legs apart in the stirrups. He and Viv could hear the voices of the medical team, but their words were muffled and drowned out by Claudia’s endless screams. Then, the nurse returned with two green, maternity ward scrubs, insisting that they slip into them.
“You may as well put these on now,’ she said. “You’ll need them at some point.”
“Is she going to be alright?” Jack’s voice dropped; he was fearful of the response.
“She seems to be doing fine,” she said. “But right now, it’s the baby we’re worried about. It will be premature, but this happens often.”
Jack thought about how nothing these people ever said was reassuring. He placed his hands on Vivian’s shoulders and they watched, waited, and prayed, the nervous fear feeling like an electrical current between them. Claudia pushed, breathed, and cried, while she was coached. Then, in a matter of only eleven minutes, Jack and Viv watched from the window as the doctor delivered the tiny human being from their niece’s womb.
Jack’s heart sunk as his eyes caught sight of the baby’s size. It wasn’t much longer than the lower part of his arm, yet he could hear its soft, minute whimpering even behind the glass. Suddenly, members of the medical team rushed the baby out of the room, which reignited Claudia’s hysteria. Jack and Vivian held each other in heightening fear.
“Where are they taking my baby?” Jack could hear the rising paranoia in her voice; it matched the panic on her face. Claudia’s eyebrows arched and her eyes widened, casting a faint smoldering flare of frenzy.
“I want to see him!”
The nurses were calming her, and then one of them injected her with a sedative. Jack and Vivian watched as the window blind came down, blocking their view of what came next. It seemed like an eon, waiting in that room and staring at that window-blind, wondering what was taking place behind it. In reality, it was only fifteen minutes before the nurse returned.
“She’ll be fine,” she said. “We’ve sedated her.”
“What about the baby?” Vivian asked.
“The baby is premature, but holding his own,” she said. “His lungs seem to be forming just fine. He’s a tough little guy.”
“When can we see him?” Jack’s fear had turned to staunch determination.
“I can take you there, now,” she said.
Donning surgical masks before entering the maternity ward, their breaking hearts lifted with hope at the undersized, newborn boy in the incubator. His tiny nostrils were miniature tunnels, where small, thin tubes spiraled upward, providing oxygen. Jack and Vivian held their breaths as the wee being weakly stretched its hands and kicked its feet.
“As I said, babies are often born premature, but this little guy’s a strong one,” the nurse said. “He’s been adapting at a rate rarely seen in premature infants. He’s definitely a miracle child for your family. The way he’s fighting, he and Mom will be out of here in no time.”
They were unable to hold the baby at this early stage, and soon, Claudia was finally admitted to a room. They sat at their sleeping niece’s bedside, watching her chest rise and fall with unconscious breath. She was still a child in Jack’s eyes, yet her hair was still damp from laboring a newer life into the world.
“I still wonder what happened that brought this on so early,” Jack said.
“I wonder that myself,” Viv said. “It happens all the time, but there was no sign, no indication. Sometimes a child just wants to be born, and so he or she arrives early.”
“I believe the nurse called him a fighter.”
“God help us,” Vivian said.
The two of them laughed quietly at Claudia’s bedside.
* * * *
Not long after Claudia awakened, she began calling out in a weakened voice that quickly strengthened into a fierce and testy impatience.
“Where is he? I want to see my baby!”
She twisted, turned, and writhed in the bed.
“Okay, Claudia, okay,” Jack said. “We’ll get the nurse.”
“You have to calm down, dear,” Viv said, her tone turning stringent “They won’t let you see him, if you fly into a tirade.”
Jack and Viv used their hands to lightly restrain her, until she slouched back in the bed, unable to fight anymore. Her frustration turned to whimpers, and then the nurse entered.
“Is everything okay in here?” she said.
“I want to see my baby, now.” Claudia drew her words out through a whining stream of sobs. The sedative she’d been given had yet to wear off, and the tears that soaked her face were her only defense.
“Alright, sweetie, we’ll take you to him.”
This nurse had been kind and helpful to them from the beginning. She explained to Claudia that she could only see the baby through a window, and that she couldn’t hold him just yet. Claudia’s tears flowed once again, accompanied by a heart-wrenching moan, but the nurse informed her of the baby’s strong progress despite his being premature.
“Claudia, he’s just too small to hold yet,” the nurse said. “But, he’s a tough one. When he’s able to sustain outside of the incubator, we’re going to place him right in your arms. You’ll see; he’s going to be fine.”
Soon, an orderly brought a wheelchair for her, which Jack pushed as they made their way to the maternity ward. Claudia gazed through the window at the small wonder stirring in the incubator. Jack and Viv witnessed the beaming shine in her eyes, the pride that filled her heart, displaying itself in her deep brown orbs. She wiped away tears and watched her boy fidget in the midst of some secret, infant dreamland.
“I saw him very quickly,” she said. “Then, they took him away. I never got to hold him.” She chuckled and issued a smile through drying tears. “He looks bigger already.”
They laughed together as they stood and watched the baby, but strangely, Jack felt an inner vibe that told him Claudia was right. The boy did look a little bigger, even from the time he and Viv had seen him. But no, that wasn’t possible, not in such a short amount of time.
Silently, he was thanking God if she was right; it meant that the
baby was healthy. Their young niece looked up at them, and they gathered closer around her for support. Claudia gazed back through the window at the baby. When she spoke, Jack noticed her reflection merge with the sight of her son like a collage.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said. “I just felt him moving and kicking, and then twisting and turning inside me. It was like he was trying to leave my body early.”
Vivian shot Jack a quick, questioning glance.
“I don’t know why, or how, this happened so soon,” Claudia said. “I did everything right. I’m so sorry if I ruined anything.”
Jack and Vivian chastised her for the ridiculous thought; unexpected emergencies happened all the time.
“And so does premature birth,” Vivian said. “Babies are born premature all the time, and then they go home as healthy babies. It’s nothing you did, Claudia.”
They watched the baby through the window until Claudia became tired again, and then the three of them returned to her room. Vivian fell fast asleep in one of the chairs at Claudia’s bedside, while Jack stayed awake, staring at his two girls, especially the younger one. Claudia was the daughter of his younger brother, Jacob. She had been the product of two younger people whose lives were anything but stable.
Jack’s younger brother, Jacob, had been a heavy drinker and an addict from an early age. He’d never been a father to Claudia in any real sense of the word. Jacob and Claudia’s mother, Sadie, had been lost children of the sixties, embroiled in their own personal turbulent battles amid the absence of a world that had left them behind. There were fights, arrests, and soon, death.
Claudia had been near her second birthday when Sadie had died suddenly and unexpectedly at a young age. Drugs had been the culprit, and Jacob had been left to raise a little girl on his own, a feat that many knew would never happen. He was a drunkard, a hellraiser, and an addict like the young woman whose life he’d helped destroy. There was not a chance in Hell that he would’ve ever been able to successfully raise Claudia.
Many had even suspected that Jacob would end up suffering the same fate as Sadie. Jack and Vivian had kept watchful eyes in case the likely possibility turned to reality. Then one day, a few years later, a sober Jacob had showed up at the farmhouse with Claudia, and a plausible story.
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