Chapter Five

Daz stayed in the bed long enough to ensure Renee was sound asleep. Her arm was still tucked carefully against her chest. He was going to have to wrap that shoulder and immobilize the arm when she woke up. But, right now, the best thing she could do was rest.

Outside, he heard the storm still howling, the cracking of breaking trees, and the rustle of leaves blowing. But the sounds were muted, telling him none of the damage was near the house. He felt around the bedroom for his clothes and dressed in the dark. He needed to feed the fire. As he opened the bedroom door, the hallway lights flickered and went dead. There went the power.

Renee’s dogs slept in the same place as earlier, near the warmth of the fireplace. They were no dummies. He petted one of them and the dog let out a happy sigh. Daz added wood to the fire and settled down in front of the fireplace with a piece of paper from the printer. What to make? Not another bear. A dog, he decided. He let his mind go blank and his hands remembered what to do.

He’d picked up origami as a child, when his father was stationed in Japan. There had been a lot of downtime one summer when his mother was occupied with her latest pregnancy. He’d been too young to go out by himself, like his older sisters, but too old to need a babysitter. So he’d been left on his own to find entertainment. Maybe he could teach origami to Charlie, though he wondered if the kid had the patience for that.

What a day. He’d gone from almost losing Renee and Charlie to making love to Renee. Now he just had to make this work with her going forward. The hard part was over, right? She’d already taken him back to her bed.

He put the completed origami dog on the fireplace mantel.

“Dad?”

He turned. Charlie stretched his arms wide and yawned. Crap. Renee had been right to worry he wouldn’t sleep through the night.

“Hey, bud, what’s up?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“You and the cat seemed pretty cozy,” Daz said.

“Oh, Odin? He said he was warm and comfy and he told me I could get up but he wasn’t going to move. He said my blanket was soft.”

“I’m sure it is soft.” There was the talking-to-animals thing again.

“Want to sleep in your bed now?” Daz asked. “I’ll read you a story.”

“I’m wide awake. I have energy!” Charlie bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

“What do you usually do when you wake up at night?” Daz asked.

“I watch TV or sometimes play on my computer.” Charlie pointed to his kid-size desk in the corner.

Daz supposed he could turn on the generator. But he didn’t think a video game was a good idea this late at night. Too stimulating. “No can do. Power’s out. What else?”

“What? I need that computer!” Charlie clenched his hands into fists.

Talk about going from zero to sixty in no time flat. “Easy. Let’s sit on the couch together and play a game.”

Charlie reluctantly trudged to the couch. “What kind of game?”

“My mom used to play the ‘who can be quietest the longest’ game with us.”

Charlie shook his head. “That’s a dumb game. I want my computer.”

“What’s so important on the computer?”

Charlie launched into a long, rambling story about the pet avatar he had on the computer, including some on a website he’d designed, and the names of all the cats and kittens he’d collected and… Daz lost track of it. Charlie’s words were all jammed together, almost as if his mouth couldn’t keep up with how fast his words wanted to get out.

That was incredibly wound up for Charlie. “Whoa, slow down, okay?”

“I said, I want to search out one of the rare ones, a tortoiseshell cat. I even have a name for her. Elf.”

Daz nodded, since agreement seemed the wisest course. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, a while. Like I said, sometimes I wake up and do it while Mom’s asleep. I’m not allowed but I do it anyway.”

Renee would be appalled. She claimed Charlie was so much better when he slept through the night.

“I really need to see my cats.” Charlie’s voice rose and Daz could see the frustration rising again.

“But you have a real cat now. Why did you name him Odin?”

Charlie blinked, distracted. “I named him Odin because it goes with Thor and Loki. In the stories, Odin’s the dad of Thor and Loki and can boss them around. I told Odin and he liked that, though he said that wasn’t really his name. He called himself Great Hunter or something.”

“Great Hunter?”

“He caught a muskrat once.”

“That is pretty great.”

And they were back to Charlie’s insistence that animals talked to him. God, Daz thought, he was in over his head. He wondered if it was possible Charlie could truly talk to animals. After all, Beth Nakamora, who co-ran the Phoenix Institute, was a telepath who talked to people with her mind. Humans were a kind of animal. But according to everything the Phoenix Institute had been able to uncover, telepaths were extremely rare and there were no records of any who could talk to animals.

A lot of kids must imagine they could talk to animals. Why should Charlie be any different, especially since Renee’s dogs seemed to practically read Renee’s mind? Yeah, telepathy was real, but what were the odds that his son could do it? Not freakin’ likely.

“I’m hungry,” Charlie announced.

“Sure, we’ll get you something to eat.” Great. That he could do.

“I want ice cream!”

Charlie bolted into the kitchen. No wonder Renee had lost him outside in the yard. The kid was fast.

“Are you supposed to have ice cream for dinner?” Would sugar in the middle of the night add to Charlie being hyper or would it fill him up and allow him to sleep?

“Well, I’m supposed to have power so I can have my computer. Obviously, I can’t always do what I’m supposed to do.”

“All right, fine, ice cream.” Fine. Charlie had almost died today. He deserved a treat.

“Let’s see what we have but choose quick because we can’t keep the fridge open with the power out.”

The freezer contained two snack cups of two different kinds of ice cream. “So butter pecan or coffee?”

Charlie stuck his whole face into the freezer.

“I hate those! I told Mom I hate ’em but she bought them anyway.”

He stomped away.

“Have you ever tried them?” Daz asked.

“I don’t want to try them! I want black raspberry or chocolate.”

“Hey, c’mon,” Daz cajoled. “I understand coffee, that’s a grown-up taste but butter pecan is awesome.” Daz offered the cup to Charlie.

Charlie smacked the cup away, screamed and threw himself on the floor. “I need chocolate ice cream! I need my computer! I need my pets!” He started banging his head against one of the cabinets while kicking the floor.

Holy shit.

Daz grabbed his son and pulled the boy back against his chest to keep him from hurting himself. He took a deep breath so he sounded calm. “Chill, Charlie. We’ll get more ice cream tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to calm down. I don’t want tomorrow. You’re mean, just like Mom.”

His son squirmed and thrashed. Little feet smacked against Daz’s shins and ankles. Charlie’s head bashed into his chest and his elbows dug into Daz’s gut.

“You’re mean. I want ice cream. I want my computer.”

He screamed again and shut his eyes tight, still thrashing.

Renee had described Charlie’s fits. But her description had been far too mild for the reality. His son’s face was utterly blank, his eyes were shut tight, and he was moaning and groaning as if in terrible pain.

Daz had held grown men captive with less effort than he held his thrashing son. Charlie bucked, screamed, arched his body and kicked out at everything. And Daz didn’t want to hold him tighter because it might hurt his son.

He’d thought nothing could terrify him more than being Rasputin’s prisoner. But this did. He was utterly helpless against this onslaught. How did he help? How did he stop it?

Daz whispered into Charlie’s ear, promising to get the right ice cream tomorrow, promising the power would be back on soon, but there was no response. Charlie punched out in another attempt to get away and Daz had to tighten the hold on his wrists. At this rate, the kid was going to really hurt himself. Shit.

Sure, Charlie got upset temporarily now and then but he always calmed down once he got what he wanted. And Daz made sure to get him that fast, because Renee claimed Charlie had a bad temper. But he’d never expected anything like this. One of the dogs padded into the kitchen and licked Charlie’s face. The thrashing subsided.

“That tickles, Thor,” Charlie said in a normal voice.

Thor lay on the floor next to them and put his head on Charlie’s knee. Charlie’s breathing started to return to normal. Daz loosened his hold on his son’s wrists. Please, let there not be bruises on them. His hands were slick with sweat. He took a deep breath, more sweat pouring down his back. He felt like a wrung-out dishrag.

How often, he wondered, did these fits happen?

“Good dog.” Charlie scratched Thor’s ears. “Thanks.”

“What did he do?” What did the dog know that Daz didn’t?

“He spoke inside my head and reminded me I was being silly,” Charlie said.

“And that worked better than me talking to you?”

“Well, yeah.” Charlie scooted away from him. “You talk to me outside my head. Thor talks to me inside my head.”

“I see.” Daz stood, wary. Charlie seemed calm now but he’d seemed calm before his fit too.

“I still want ice cream or my computer, though.”

“I got that part loud and clear.”

Charlie went back to hugging Thor. Daz was afraid to make any move, worried he might set off another fit.

He’d thought he’d taken Charlie’s quirks seriously, as Renee insisted, and kept him on a schedule, never sprang surprises on him, ever. Plus, whatever Charlie asked for, Daz got it for him. He didn’t see his son enough; he wasn’t going to deprive him when he did.

He’d no idea how over-the-top Charlie’s fits could be.

Renee had insisted they were like toddler fits only exponentially worse but Daz hadn’t believed they could be this bad. It was normal for kids to get pissed off. He’d thought Charlie was just quick-tempered and could yell and scream too much. He knew about the autism diagnosis but he’d wondered if the doctor could be wrong, if Charlie was going through a phase, and he’d thought Charlie would grow out of it.

He’d thought wrong. Not until just now had he understood the full scope of the problem. He was six-foot-four. His son was a skinny, four-foot-tall kid. And yet, it had taken nearly all he had to hold him during that fit.

No wonder Renee wanted the school to test Charlie and classify him as special ed. Daz had thought she was being overprotective, overreacting and, dammit, he knew Charlie. His son couldn’t be a special-ed kid.

Daz sat down next to Charlie and put his elbows on his knees. Fuck. He was shaking. He scratched the dog’s ears. That seemed to help.

“Does Thor calm you down often?” Daz asked.

“Yeah.” Charlie said. “He’s nice.”

“Not Loki?”

“Loki says he hates the yelling.” Charlie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s not very nice to me sometimes.” Charlie patted Thor again. “But I don’t scare Thor. He’s always nice.”

“And what about Odin?” Daz asked.

“Oh, he’s a cat. He probably wouldn’t care. Cats are like that.”

Despite the situation, Daz almost laughed. “Good to know.”

“Up again, Charlie?” Renee asked, coming into the kitchen.

Somehow, she’d managed to put on her sweats, even with the injured shoulder. When he left her sleeping, Renee’s face had been peaceful and relaxed. Now, it was back to that tense, closed look she’d worn for most of the past year. Daz had thought she had been angry with him.

But now he guessed her distraction was a result of dealing with Charlie on a daily basis.

“Sorry to wake you,” Daz said.

“It’s okay.” She knelt next to Charlie. “How you doing?”

Charlie looked away from her.

“That bad, huh?” She ruffled his hair. “Let’s get some melatonin so you rest, okay?”

Charlie stiffened again. “I want ice cream.”

Daz tensed. No, not again.

“If you get up off the floor and sit quiet, you can have some saltine crackers and peanut butter,” Renee said. “If you take the melatonin with it.”

“Okay. Fine.” And just like that, Charlie trudged over and sat at the kitchen table.

Peanut butter and crackers. Huh. Daz would have to remember that. He stood up and told Renee he’d get the food. She sat at the table across from Charlie, asking him questions about Odin.

While they talked, Daz fixed the snack, using his flashlight for light. He kept one eye on Charlie, ready to grab him in case another fit started. But, so far, so good.

He gave Charlie the plate of crackers. His son dove right in.

“Thanks,” Renee said. “And for getting up with him.”

“No problem, I was already awake.”

He went to add a log to the fire, using the time to gather his thoughts. The work also steadied his hands. Damn. What was really going on inside his son’s head when this happened?

He supposed Charlie could be just being a brat, but that didn’t fit because he was well-behaved ninety-five percent of the time. Daz had been around bratty kids. They acted horribly all of the time. It wasn’t something you could turn on and off. Plus, deep in the middle of the fit, Charlie had seemed completely unaware of what he was doing, where he was and who he was. His screams for ice cream or his computer had morphed into just plain screams and inarticulate yelping.

How long would the fit have lasted if Thor hadn’t come over? And if this scared him, how scared was Renee all the time? She was shorter and far lighter than he was. How did she manage to hold on to Charlie and keep him from hurting himself when he was like this?

No wonder she worried so much when Charlie was out of her sight. No wonder she’d not wanted to wake their son tonight. He turned to look over at the kitchen table, which was visible at the far end of the living room.

Charlie and Renee had their heads together, whispering. Charlie was smiling. Smiling? After all that? What kind of magic did Renee have to shift his mood so fast?

Renee must have noticed the scrutiny because she raised her head and met his gaze. “Daz, could you turn on our generator so the food in the fridge doesn’t spoil?”

“Sure. Tell me where your switch is.”

“Does that mean I can use the computer?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Renee said. “Because we can’t afford to waste the gas in the generator on anything nonessential. Do you want to keep the food from spoiling or play your game?”

“Play the game!”

“Hah. You say that now but when the milk for your cereal is spoiled, you won’t like that,” she said.

“Oh.” Charlie frowned. “Maybe.”

“If you can stay calm now, we’ll talk about using the computer in the morning,” she said.

Charlie sighed. “Okay.”

Reassured that Charlie was going to stay calm, Daz went to the garage, followed Renee’s instructions, and soon the chugging of a generator echoed from the side yard.

When he returned to the living room, Renee was settling Charlie on the couch.

“Can Thor sleep with me?” Charlie asked.

“Sure, if you think he’ll stay,” she said.

“He says it’s fine, that I’m nice and warm.”

“There you go, then.”

Thor jumped up to curl beside him while Renee brought a blanket from the bedroom and tucked them in.

“Is Odin still sleeping?” Charlie asked.

“He hissed at me and ran under the bed when I went to your room,” she said.

“He knows you don’t like cats, Mom.”

“Cats usually pick up on that, yeah.” She kissed his cheek. “Go to sleep, Charlie. Love you.”

After a stressful day, Renee had slept only an hour. Her shoulder had to be still killing her. Yet not for an instant had she panicked or lost her temper with Charlie. She’d even managed to say the right things to keep their son from throwing another fit.

“Okay.” Charlie closed his eyes. “Love you too.”

Renee tiptoed back into the kitchen, sat down and put her head in her hands. Daz stood behind her, his hand on her good shoulder, trying to soothe her. He wondered if he was doing any good at all.

“This wasn’t the first time you’ve done this, is it?” Daz asked. “Calmed Charlie down?”

“I wish,” she said, her voice muffled.

“Mom?”

Renee clenched her fist, her real sign of frustration. “Yes?”

“Can I have water?”

“Sure.”

She filled a plastic cup and went back to sit next to Charlie while he drank. “Go to sleep, Charlie. You’ve had a long day.”

“Thor says I should stop getting worked up over dumb things,” Charlie said.

“Thor’s smart. That’s good advice,” Renee said.

“The things don’t seem dumb at the time. I couldn’t think straight. My mind went all Hulk-like.”

“I know that scares you. It’s okay, you’re fine now. I’m here, Thor’s here, your father is here.”

Charlie stared down at the floor. “I woke you up when your arm is hurt. I’m sorry.”

“I know you were trying hard to be calm. Rest. We’ll work on things tomorrow.” She tucked the blanket tighter around him.

“Okay.” Charlie closed his eyes.

Renee trudged back to the kitchen, her shoulders slumped, looking defeated. Daz tried to hug her but she just collapsed into a kitchen chair, put her head on the kitchen table again and closed her eyes.

He rubbed the back of her neck. The muscles were wound up tight.

“How long has it been since you’ve had a good night’s sleep?” he whispered.

“The last weekend you took Charlie.”

Nearly two weeks ago. Silence reigned as they watched until Charlie’s chest rose and fell in deep sleep.

“Whew,” Renee whispered. She stretched out her legs and relaxed back in the chair. He finally sat down across from her.

“Does he have fits like this often?” Daz asked.

“It used to be once a month but it’s close to once a week lately. He’s getting worse. I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve seen it. But then he always gets what he wants with you. I’m the one left to tell him ‘no’.”

“I’m sorry,” Daz whispered.

“My fault.” Circles shadowed her eyes. “I should’ve known this would happen after today. Meltdowns tend to happen when he’s stressed. He probably woke up after a nightmare. I should’ve known. I should have woken him up and given him the melatonin. Then he would have slept through the night.”

He enclosed her hand. “Stop beating yourself up, okay?”

She shook her head, her mouth tight, misery in every movement. “I want him to get better but nothing I do seems to help. And I have to find something that will help him.”

“You calmed him down just now when all I could do was watch him thrash around and hope I wasn’t bruising his wrists while I held him. You’re doing something right.”

“I didn’t calm him down. Thor calmed him down,” Renee said. “I just came in at the end.”

Daz glanced into the living to Charlie and back to Renee. “Do you always have to restrain him like I did?”

“Usually, I can distract him with a change of subject but every now and then, I have to do what you did.” She stared out into space, not looking at him. Not, he suspected, looking at anything.

“I’m sorry.” Daz shook his head. “I felt so damn helpless when he was in the middle of it.”

“I know that feeling well.”

“I know I gave you a hard time about the autism diagnosis.”

She shook her head. “You’re not the only one.”

“I know how good you are with him. I should have supported you.” He reached out his hand for her. “I’m sorry.”

She hesitated a second, then took it. He swallowed hard. Getting her into bed had been easy compared to this conversation.

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand. “I realize that unless you’ve been there, it’s hard to know what the fits can be like. Maybe I was afraid to push it with you because, deep down, I wanted you to be right. But wishing things will get better won’t help him. And I need to find something that does.”

I, she’d said. Not we. But then, they’d hardly been a team.

“What do the professionals he’s seeing say about Charlie?” Daz asked.

“I can’t get a consensus. Every autistic kid is different, so what works with one won’t necessarily work with the other. Plus, his symptoms change as he grows. Right now I’m just trying to make it through one day at a time to keep him safe. And, it’s pretty apparent after today that I’m not always succeeding at the safety part.” Her voice held a note of panic. “The school thinks a behavior chart is the perfect answer for Charlie. Sometimes he does well with it, some days not. The days he’s not doing well are increasing.”

“The school’s been calling you a lot?” Daz asked.

“Several times a week, including today.”

“What happened today?”

She told him about a “trick” test Charlie had taken and his anger and panic that caused him to run out of the school. Daz’s mouth went dry at the thought of Charlie running into traffic.

“I don’t even know if I should send him back to school,” Renee said.

Daz had no answer for that. If Renee was uncertain, this was so way over his head. Dammit. He’d been so worried about leveling up for his work that he didn’t realize how much he needed to do with his son.

“And that’s just Charlie’s behavior,” Renee continued. “He’s also convinced he can talk to animals. I thought it was just an overactive imagination, but now I’m not so sure. He could be—” her voice cracked, “—delusional. Mixing up reality and imagination.”

“I’ve noticed he says animals talk to him inside his head.”

No wonder she was terrified. The odds were very much against Charlie being a telepath, but it was possible. Beth needed to see Charlie. But how did he mention that idea to Renee in a way that sounded believable and sane?

“It does seem like animals respond to him, particularly Thor and Loki. And the cat was calm with him too,” Daz said.

Renee slumped back in her chair and let go of Daz’s hand. “My dogs have known Charlie since birth. They’re very aware of his body language and he’s probably aware of theirs. So it seems like he can do what he says. I’ve tried to steer him that way, tried to convince him that he and the dogs were just close and read each other’s body language, but he claims that’s not that the case, that he speaks to them in his mind.” She said the last sentence in a low whisper. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve run out of solutions.”

Daz almost blurted out that telepaths were real. But most people didn’t believe that unless convinced with evidence and Daz had none with him right now.

He had to get Charlie to Beth. Beth could read Charlie’s mind telepathically and find out if he was delusional or not. Hell, Beth could read Charlie’s mind and figure out everything that was going on inside his head. Maybe Charlie wasn’t autistic. Maybe if Charlie could talk to animals, it was causing the other problems in his behavior.

“I’ve got a possible solution,” Daz said.

“What?”

She stared at him, so dejected that he wanted to gather her up in his arms.

“Oh, Daz, please, don’t give me false hope.” She rubbed her eyes.

“I know an expert with new ideas.”

“Another expert? Where do you know this psychologist from?” Renee stood went over to the sink to pour a glass of water. She drank the whole glass in one long gulp.

Daz followed her. “You know how I feel about shrinks.”

“That you don’t trust them? Oh, yes,” Renee said.

Daz swallowed down his guilt to being so resistant to Charlie seeing a psychologist. “I don’t trust many of them, that’s true. But I know this woman and I’m sure she can help.”

Renee turned and leaned against the kitchen counter. An hour ago, he’d left her sleeping peacefully. An hour before that, she’d made love to him. But the person who stared at him now was entirely different, closed-off and shut down emotionally.

“Okay, sure. If you like this psychologist, it’s worth a try. Charlie has nothing to lose.”

But the way she said it, she had no faith in his idea.

She poured a mug of cold coffee from what remained in the coffeepot. She sipped it and spit the coffee back in the mug. “Crap.” She poured the coffee down the sink. “I’m sorry if I sound unenthusiastic. I’m glad you’re trying to help. But it’s been months of getting my hopes up and having them dashed.”

Her voice was hoarse. She held one arm tight against her chest. In the dim light from the fireplace, her face looked etched in shadows. He’d seen that same look of exhaustion and hopelessness on men who’d spent too much time in the field. They knew one wrong move could mean the difference between life and death. Renee obviously felt the same about watching Charlie and, after today, he couldn’t say she was wrong.

In the field, he could fight the enemy. But this enemy couldn’t be dispatched in a firefight.

“We’ll figure out how to help him together,” Daz said.

“I hope so.” She shook her head and waved a hand at him to stop when he would’ve moved closer. Shutting down, he decided. He stepped toward her anyway. She raised her other hand, the one with the bum shoulder and pain instantly flashed over her face.

“Fuck.” She fell to her knees, the arm cradled against her. “Dammit, dammit.”

He went to his knees beside her and cradled her against him. She’d faced a charging bear with a stick, but this? This was killing her.

“I’m the woman with the SAR team. I’m the one who saves people. And I can’t even help my son,” she whispered. “I’d do anything that might help but I don’t have a clue as to what that thing could be.”

Daz pulled her against him. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that.” She let her head rest against his chest. “What if it’s not okay, what if I can’t help, what if I lose him when I lose track of him for a just a few seconds… I can’t fail Charlie. I just can’t.”

She started to cry, quiet sobs muffled against his shirt. He held her loosely, worried about the bad shoulder, murmuring soft words to her, hoping they provided some comfort. He’d never seen her like this. Renee was a pillar. She didn’t crumble.

Except she was.

Daz had to face hard facts. Renee thought she had failed but she’d done everything she knew to help their son. If anyone had failed, it was him, for failing to see the scope of Charlie’s problem and not backing up Renee when she tried to make him see.

“You’ve had a tough day.” He stroked her back. “But my friend Beth will be able to help Charlie. You’ll see. There’s hope.”

“God, I hope so, Daz. I really hope so.” She stifled her tears. “I’ve messed up your shirt.”

“I don’t care about that. But stand up. I want to wrap up your shoulder right away. I should’ve done it earlier before, well, you know.”

They both stood. She took a tissue from a box of Kleenex on the counter. “After we…when we…just now, after we made love. I didn’t want to think about anything, I just wanted…I wanted one night when I could relax. I was selfish. I didn’t stay awake to check on him. If I had, he might not have melted down.”

“You’re asking the impossible of yourself,” Daz said. “No one can be on alert twenty-four/seven. I’m here now. You have help.” He kissed her and wiped the tears on her cheeks away with his thumb. “Go sit on the loveseat out there. I’ll get the duffel with the medical supplies.”

She nodded and shuffled to the living room, worry in her every step.