Though the old man was breathing steadily, Ben couldn’t help but wonder when his last breath might come. Remembering the robust street cop of his youth, he felt certain Lars would welcome an end that allowed for some level of dignity. In the days since he’d been found lying on the floor, Lars had for the most part remained unconscious. He was being fed through a tube. During the rare times when he was awake, he fought—as best he could, given his physical condition—with the nurses and aides, or anyone else who tried to help him. Ben knew Lars wanted his daughter, but Ben couldn’t bring himself to tell Lars what had happened.
What are you going to do without her, old man? What are we all going to do?
Ben had been nine years old the first time he walked Alex home from school. Before they reached her house, a police cruiser pulled up. When the cop got out, Ben stopped in his tracks. The boy gawked at the man he was sure stood ten feet tall as Alex flew into her father’s arms. Ben had looked on and wondered how it would feel to have a girl like Alex love you that much.
Little Alex—also nine years old—had said, “Daddy, this is my friend Ben. He sat with me at lunch today and now he’s carrying my books, see?”
Twenty-five years had come and gone, and Ben still remembered the first words Lars Norgaard ever directed at him. “You must be a mighty special young man. Usually I carry her books.”
Ben looked at the old man’s deeply lined face. “You knew right then, didn’t you? Even then, you knew where we were headed.”
As if on cue, Lars’s eyes fluttered open. Ben stood at the bedside, afraid to speak, while Lars stared at the ceiling above his bed. After several seconds Ben bent in close. He tried to speak in a normal, conversational tone.
“It’s me, Lars. It’s Ben. I’m right here with you.”
“Be-n.”
It was weak but unmistakable. Lars was speaking for the first time in months.
“Beee-nnn.”
“I’m right here.” Ben stood where Lars was able to see him. A withered hand moved slowly across the bedsheet as if Lars was trying to reach out. Ben took the old man’s trembling hand and held it gently in his own. Lars struggled to speak.
“Haarr-leeee.”
“What, Lars?” Ben was stunned. “What did you say?”
“Haaar-leeee.”
Ben couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice. “What are you saying, Lars? Are you saying Harley? Who is Harley? What does that mean?”
“Haaaar-Leeee.” The required effort caused Lars to struggle for breath. His hands shook, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his body began to convulse. Ben shouted for help and heard someone running.
A nurse entered the room and Ben moved aside. The nurse smacked the panic button on the wall above the old man’s bed with the palm of her hand and Ben heard an alarm sound down the hall. Seconds later more medical personnel raced into the room, including Dr. Schneider, who immediately began calling out instructions.
The team worked in concert, quickly and smoothly. Within a minute, Lars was sedated and again unconscious, his face contorted under an oxygen mask.
“Let me see you out in the hallway.” The doctor’s voice was firm, and Ben followed him out of the room.
“What happened in there?” Dr. Schneider asked.
Ben was still dazed by his father-in-law speaking for the first time in almost four months. “He woke up and started talking. He was trying to tell me something. After a couple of attempts, the seizure started.”
Schneider was skeptical. “He spoke? What did he say?”
“He said my name.” Ben thought back. “Then he said, ‘Harley.’ He said that a couple of times.”
“Does your father-in-law know someone named Harley?”
“I wish I knew,” Ben said. “It seemed really important to him.”
“I wouldn’t read too much into this. Fact is, the chances are pretty good the man was hallucinating. For all we know he may want to take a ride on a motorcycle.”
Ben shot back. “Knock off the glib shit, Doc. My father-in-law was trying to tell me something. With everything that has been going on, it could be important.”
“I apologize, Ben,” Schneider said without a hint of sincerity.
“I don’t need your apologies. I just need straight answers. When can you bring him around? I know he was trying to tell me something.”
Schneider spoke in a fast and officious clip. “Ben, Lars has been slipping in and out of consciousness since suffering a blow to the head. The impact may have caused neurological damage. I’m sorry to tell you this, but it is highly unlikely this episode had anything to do with an attempt to communicate. But you’re right. Until he is awake and calm for some length of time, we won’t know for sure. Is that straight enough for you?”
Ben didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, Doc. Your faith in the human spirit is a real inspiration.”
When the man made no reply, Ben went on. “Look, I know what I heard. Lars spoke my name and then repeated the name ‘Harley’ two times. So yes or no. Is there a person with the first or last name of Harley on your staff?”
“No. There is not.”
Ben looked through the open door, at the old man sleeping in the bed. “I want you to hold off on the drugs. I know this man. He’s got something on his mind, and he isn’t going to give up until he gets it out. No more sedatives, all right?”
Schneider folded his arms across his chest. “Mr. Sawyer, perhaps it would be best for you to begin seeking alternate arrangements for your father-in-law. I have been as patient as I can—”
Ben turned away. “Oh, lighten up, Doc. This isn’t about your ability. I’m not insulting you. Just quit shooting Lars full of dope until he can get out whatever it is he’s trying to tell us, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
Schneider pursed his lips and responded. “I’ll note Mr. Norgaard’s file that there will be no further pain management without your consent. Good day, Ben.”
Ben watched as the man turned and left, and gave some thought to how it was that doctors were almost always assholes. Stepping back into the room, Ben looked at his father-in-law, a man he had known for most of his life. The old man’s gaunt face was troubled. His eyes were closed, but Ben could see rapid movement beneath the lids. His lips quivered. Ben knew Lars had said something to say, all right, but not to a doctor. Not even to his daughter. Lars wanted to talk to a cop.