Do I have on clean underwear? That thought ran through her mind when she hit the floor. Her mother said to always make sure you have on clean undies in case you ever have to go to the emergency room. Kate wondered, who plans on going to the emergency room? as her heart raced, and darkness seemed to come over her. What on earth was happening? Who were the men? Why were they in her house? What do they want with the boys? She closed her eyes trying to focus, trying to clear the blackness from her mind. Her mother, who had been dead, now for ten years was speaking to her.
Make sure you tell your dad you love him before you leave, dear.
It’s what her mother would say every time she walked out the door. But Kate was not certain if that came from her mother or if it was the thought that she conjured up.
Her breathing was becoming labored. Is this it? she wondered. Why today? She was too young to die, yet she knew that was exactly what was about to happen. The love of her life had not manifested himself. There were no children, nothing that would let the world know she was ever here. Had she made a difference in the world? Lord knows she tried to. And what about her dad? Her heart slowed. Who would make sure he laughed at least once a day? Who would be there to love him, to keep him from working all the time, to keep him human? The boys. Oh God, the boys. Kate had to get help. There was no way she could leave her dad or the boys without warning them.
“Call Dad.” She spoke as loud as she could so the electronic voice-activated security system could hear.
Was it loud enough? She waited for what seemed like an eternity until the sound of a ringing phone filled the air. She took a few deep breaths, momentarily relieved. The phone rang again.
“Please pick up, Dad, pick up,” she said to no one. For no one was in the house now. She heard the men when they left.
“Kate, why are you calling the house phone? You usually call the cell.”
“Dad … help … Dad.”
“Kate? What is it?”
Guilt stuck her for a moment as she heard the alarm in her father’s voice, but the fear of what was happening took over. “Daddy … please ... help.”
“Kate, what is it? What’s going on? Talk to me.”
“I can’t, Dad.”
“I’m calling the police right now.”
“Ambulance, Dad, ambulance.”
“I’m sending them to your house right now. You keep talking to me, Kate.”
The strength she used to talk was dwindling. The cloud seems to be coming over her eyes. She held her eyes wide open, trying to keep the darkness from taking over. Her father’s voice was still coming through the system as she tried to remember what led to this moment.
The tea is bitter, Kate Tyson thought as she took a sip. It had been a long day at work. Entering information into the new computer system at work was trying and boring. She had a caseload of over twelve hundred children. Entering the information from the paper file to the computer system took her three days. All she wanted to do was sit out on her sun porch with a cup of hot tea and a novel. The crimson sunset was wonderful. The mystery novel had her on the edge of her seat. Yet, her tea, which had soothed her nerves in the past, just wasn’t cutting it tonight. She placed a bookmark inside the book, then sat it on the table. Picking up the cup, she walked back into her kitchen. The tea kettle was still hot. Good, she thought. A lot of people used microwave ovens to warm up their beverages, but Kate was raised with the good old-fashioned tea kettle that whistles when the water is hot. She poured the tea in the cup down the drain, then pulled out another tea canister. A nice chamomile should do the trick, she thought as she opened the canister. It was in a beautiful gold canister her father brought back from India on one of his business trips. He knew how much she and her mother loved loose tea. With every foreign trip, he would bring a variety of teas home with him.
Kate smiled as she made a mental note to call him later to give an update on her boys. The boys, as she referred to them, were five amazing teenagers in the foster care system. As a social worker, she had many cases, but there were five young boys she had worked with for years who were near and dear to her heart. They were sixteen-year-old Monty, fifteen-year-old Dane, Wade was fourteen, Ross thirteen and Drake twelve. They were little devils in the most loving way one can imagine. Kate had worked with each of the boys with similar issues. They were moved through the system due to communications concerns. They weren’t difficult; well, at least to her they weren’t. They all seem to have a problem communicating with some people—well—most people. It wasn’t that they couldn’t talk. As she soon discovered, each spoke multiple languages. The problem was, they simply would not talk to anyone until Kate came into their lives.
Each were sent to her at different points in their lives to work directly with Kate. She was a breakthrough specialist, with patience and understanding. All the children in the foster care system were under duress. Whatever happened in their young lives was not their doing, yet they were paying the price. Kate understood that, and she knew it would take consistent visits on her part to win their trust. With these five boys, she had won their hearts, and they in turn had won hers.
Over the years, each time she attempted to place them in a home, for one reason or another these five boys had all been returned. She tried to explain to each, how their determination not to talk to people was a little scary. Monty would always respond, “I talk to you. That’s enough.” Kate refused to give up on the five boys and figured if they would not talk to others, maybe they would talk to each other.
When she put them together in one home, it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. The boys took to each other like fish to water. The breakthrough was a miracle. She began taking them on trips together. She introduced them to her father, who would invite them to his office complex to hang out in the newsroom. Kate had come to love the boys as if they were her own children. Every time the agency suggests moving them away, Kate would convince them to let the boys stay near each other. They seem to have a bond that worked for them.
Thoughts of the boys drifted as she saw a shadow on the gold tea canister. Kate turned just as a syringe was plunged into her neck. Her body slumped but did not hit the floor. She was placed in her kitchen chair. The warm substance seeping through her veins made her mind foggy. She lived alone; no one had access to her house. The security system did not alert her to any intruders. How could two men be standing over her?
“What?” To her, the one word was slurred.
“Ms. Tyson, who have you told about the specimens?”
Kate shook her head trying to clear her mind. “Specimens?” She didn’t understand what they were asking.
“Case numbers Number 760-722, 760-808, 760-419 and 760-1017.”
Those numbers are familiar, she thought. What were they? “I don’t know what you are asking.” The taste of fear was on her tongue. She had no idea what they wanted.
“Case number 760-722, 760-808, 760-419 and 760-1017. Who else have you discussed those cases with?”
The boys. Those were the boys’ case numbers. Who would want the boys’ case numbers? Wait, she thought, one was missing.
“Who?”
Warning bells were sounding throughout her body. These men were dangerous to her, and possibly the boys. She wasn’t going to tell them anything. “No one,” she replied.
“Good.”
A sharp pinch was felt as another syringe was plunged into her neck. This time her body slumped forward and hit the floor.
“Stay with me, Ms. Tyson,” a voice penetrated her thoughts.
“I’m with you,” Kate replied.
“We’re almost there. Stay with us.”
“Dad.”
“I’m right here, Kate.” Her father Dan Tyson took her hand into his. “I drove like a bat out of hell to get to you.”
“Dad, the boys.”
“The boys? What about the boys?”
“Help them, Dad.”
“Help them? Kate, did the boys do this?”
She shook her head. “No. Protect the boys.”
“Protect them? Kate, you are scaring me!”
She could hear the fear in his voice.
“You will be here to take care of them, Kate. You are going to be just fine.” He kissed her hand.
“Dad, promise,” her voice was weak. She had to get him to understand. “The boys.”
“I promise, Kate. I will get the boys.”
“Protect them, Dad, all five.” She looked at him, worried, knowing she was dying. “I love you, Daddy. I will tell Mom you love her.”
“Don’t talk like that, Kate. I need you here, with me.”
Kate smiled. “Mom is calling me, Dad.”
“Kate … Kate.” her father was calling her name as darkness took over.
Kate smiled, thinking, Dad knows Mom always had the last word.