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Saturday morning dawned with a smattering of rain that made it easy to lounge in my bed for an extra hour.
This time when I arose, all my juices were flowing right. I drank half of the orange juice carton in the fridge, showered, and then headed out the door. The drizzling rain had stopped completely.
I knew there wasn’t much I could or would tell Mom about the last seventy-two hours, but I couldn’t wait to see her. I’d at least tell her about last night, and about the tour and recording plans. She’d be excited for me, I knew.
But about Vicki? The rescued kids? I had to keep secrets, like it or not.
Traffic was relatively sparse, so I had an easy time of it, stopping at Groovy Biscuits for some breakfast takeout. Philly cheesesteak-covered biscuits for me and a veggie omelet for Mom, plus plastic cups of grapefruit juice to wash it all down.
Ten minutes later, I parked in front of the all-too-familiar Austin Waters Mental Health Hospital.
I walked up to the front desk to sign in and showed my bagged breakfast to nurse George.
“Whew, boy. That smells real good,” George said.
“Does it? I hadn’t noticed.” I grinned.
George laughed.
I reached into the paper bag, pulled out a wrapped handful, and placed it on the counter in front of George.
“Whasthis?” he asked.
“Biscuit. Egg, cheese, and bacon. Enjoy.”
George’s eyes went wide. “You, sir, are a saint among men!”
“No problem,” I said. “How’s Mom doing?”
“She’s been calm. She’s asked about you. Probably a dozen times since your last visit. Better get in there.”
I nodded. “Thanks, George.”
He opened the biscuit’s paper wrapping. “Thank you.”
I made my way through the halls to Mom’s room.
A small, green ball rolled out through the door to my mother’s room when I was just feet away. Mittens the cat bounded through the doorway and onto the ball, teeth and claws gnawing at it as the little furry monster curled around the helpless toy.
She spotted me in a split second and popped up onto her four paws, meowed once, and padded straight up. I reached down to retrieve both her and her ball. The green toy I pushed into her front paws, and she happily grabbed the ball into a wrestler’s clinch all over again, chewing it—and me—as I carried her with my breakfast-bag clenched in a fist and stroked the top of her head between her ears.
“Mom, I found a wild animal stalking the halls—”
I stopped cold in the doorway. Her room smelled different, like Mom’s kitchen instead of a hospital ward.
Mom wasn’t alone.
A man in simple khaki slacks, brown shoes, and a yellow polo shirt stood near the window that overlooked the hospital’s backyard and fountain. My mother was close beside him.
Mom’s face burst into a broad smile. “Here he is, Jerry! Lochlan, I finally get to introduce you...”
“Sorry about that. My fault. The toss got away from me,” Jerry said and pointed at Mittens still nestled in the fold of my right arm.
I set Mittens down on the floor and let the green ball go rolling. The cat chased it under Mom’s bed.
“Mom, I...think maybe you should come give me a hug.”
“What? Oh, ha-ha.” Mom did as I requested and when she let go of me, I held her firmly but lightly by a wrist, so she couldn’t return to Jerry.
“Lucky?” I asked.
“Huh?” Jerry’s brow wrinkled, but I’m sure he couldn’t top the incredulous look I wore.
I mean, after all, I was staring at Lucky, the egg-salad hobo I’d met way back in Nevada. Sure, his clothing was different, and he wasn’t wearing a floppy fishing hat, but there was no doubt that the man, this ‘Jerry,’ was the same one I’d conversed with near the cigar shop.
After a nervous moment, Jerry laughed out loud.
Mom wasn’t laughing though. “Lochlan, don’t be silly, his name is Jerry. He’s an old friend. Why are you holding me? Let me go, Son.”
“Mom...”
“Apologies, Lochlan. I sometimes forget that I appear for others as I last did. I’m not so used to making an appearance, you see,” Lucky Jerry said, and just like that—his face changed into another man’s and his entire body grew in stature to equal my height.
“There, hopefully that’s better. You can let Tressa go. I assure you...I’m a friend. More than a friend, really," Jerry said.
I couldn’t form words. Jerry was statuesque. With his jawline, defined brow, gray eyes, and black hair, staring at the man was like looking into a mirror.
But there was something different about his eyes. His eyes were old. Not a tired old, but centuries old. Eyes that had seen many stories. More stories than I could ever hope to know.
I let go of Mom. She rubbed her wrist for a moment and then walked between Jerry and me. She didn’t notice any change in her friend. “Well, that’s better. What’s gotten into you? Honestly, I don’t know what to think but...never mind. Lochlan, this is Jerry. Jerry this is my overprotective son, Lochlan. He’s been away searching for a friend.” Mom paused. “Oh, my goodness, which reminds me. What happened? Did you find her?”
I still couldn’t speak. I stood there staring at my reflection in Jerry.
“He found her,” Jerry said. “Give the boy a minute, Tressa. He’s had a rough few days, and I’m afraid I’m not helping things at the moment.”
Mom grew more concerned. “Lochlan, are you all right, baby? What happened?”
“Many things have changed, Tressa,” Jerry said. He walked past my mother, stood before me and extended a hand.
“Lochlan, my name is Jeremiel.”
I examined Jeremiel’s hand.
“I’ve got so many questions,” I said.
I took his hand and shook it. His left hand. It was a good handshake. Firm. Strong.
The tension in my spine went away the instant I touched him.
“I’ll do my very best to answer. Anything I can,” Jerry replied, and he looked down. “Also, you forgot these...” In his other hand he held out my lost blues harp and multi-tool.
I still held my bag of breakfast, or maybe I’d have taken my items back, but instead I just stared, dumbfounded. And that lasted I don’t know how long.
Eventually, I could make thoughts again.
I met Jerry’s gaze straight on, released his hand and arched an irritated eyebrow.
“Is it flat or not?” I asked. “And don’t bullshit me this time.”
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