The lights were out and the room was quiet. His latest dose of meds had not yet kicked in. The various daytime caretakers had gone home and Becky had cleaned him up and tucked him in. Her wifely duties were done for the night, out of obligation, if not good will. She had chastely kissed him good night and retreated to the bed she had put in Collette’s room. Her excuse was that his legs—his stumps—had still not healed so she couldn’t share his bed. He knew that the real reason was that she was repulsed by him and the remains of his legs.
She tried to hide it but he could see the curl of her lips when she’d help him to the bathroom, and the way she avoided looking at them when she helped him move from bed to his wheel chair.
Here in the dark he could almost imagine the legs were still there. He could feel the hair on his legs rubbing against the light sheet, flex his toes, feel an itchy spot on his ankle. He sighed. He hated it when he got an itch on his now absent legs. It drove him crazy and there was no way to scratch something that was no longer there.
He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else. Becky’s disapproving face, then the downward spiral of the Eagle which would end with the crash immediately came to mind. He broke out in a sweat and opened his eyes, wishing for a drink, but he couldn’t go get any on his own and no one would bring him any alcohol.
A small child sat on the desk at the foot of the bed. He swung his legs back and forth and watched Jorge silently. He had a tousled head of dark curls and the nondescript blue T-shirt and shorts worn by Alpha’s children since Jorge was that size. For all Jorge could tell, it was the same clothes he himself had worn. The material was tough and resisted stains and rips. It simply did not wear out and was passed from one child to the next as the children grew.
Jorge squinted and tried to make out who the kid was and wondered how he got in here. He knew all the children on Loki, having coached football for years, and he knew most of the Alphan children who came and went with their parents during the good seasons. The kid looked to be of European descent, eliminating the Browns, and the various Habbi’s as well as Duncan’s younger brood. Jorge didn’t want to frighten the kid, who simply sat and stared and swung his feet. Jorge stared back at him.
At length, the child smiled and said, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Jorge replied softly. Becky no longer left the monitor on between the bedrooms but the walls were thin in the small apartment.
“I’m glad you didn’t die,” the boy said in a matter-of-fact voice, neither sympathetic nor eager.
“Me too,” Jorge said it automatically. But he realized that he meant it. When Halima had first told him what they’d done he’d been devastated. He’d even said—more than once—that they should have left him to die. But he didn’t really want to be dead.
The little boy watched him in silence some more. Then he said, “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” Jorge finally replied bleakly. Halima and Crystal both visited him daily. They kept saying that first they wanted him to get better. Then they’d decide what he would do. “I can’t fly anymore.”
The boy nodded solemnly. The child looked so familiar. Even his voice was familiar, but Jorge couldn’t quite place him. That was odd. Dover was such a small place that everyone knew everyone else.
“How about going to Alpha? I like Alpha,” the boy said eagerly.
Jorge scowled. “What would I do there?”
“Oh, I don’t know, but I like Alpha.”
Jorge narrowed his eyes. “Why would you care?”
“I—well, I could come with you,” the boy said hesitantly.
“Who are you?” Jorge asked in exasperation. Why would someone let their kid travel with the legless guy who crashed an Eagle and killed all those people?
The boy smiled. “I thought you would remember me. You always let me be on your team when we played football. Maggie never wanted me on her team.”
Jorge leaned forward and looked closely at the boy. Suddenly he remembered why the little boy looked so familiar. They had been little together. He could still remember the prospecting trip they had taken—more than twenty years ago. While their parents worked they played football and swam and climbed rocks—their first real taste of Loki. And he remembered playing with Maggie and Billy and Paddy. Until Paddy and his mother had gotten sick and they had rushed back to Alpha. He and his sisters and brother had been on the other Eagle when… Paddy and his mother… both died.
Slowly and deliberately, the little boy reached down to the bed and scratched the phantom itch on Jorge’s nonexistant ankle. Jorge started to scream.
Becky rushed into the room and turned up the lights. She found Jorge propped on his elbows staring at the foot of the bed, screaming. She sat next to him and held him. After a long time his screams turned to sobs. Collette appeared at the door, wide-eyed and pale faced. Jorge clung tightly to Becky and she shook her head at the nine-year-old. Collette vanished. Shortly afterward, Halima and Duncan showed up. Collette, bless her, had called for help. They gave Jorge a strong sedative, then gave the shaken Becky a milder one. Halima took Collette home with her. She assured Becky they would talk in the morning. Something would have to be done about Jorge.
On Alpha, at about the same time Jorge realized who he was talking to, Bill Fraser was shutting down his slate with a sigh. He was beginning to think his pilots were a group of spoiled prima donnas, bordering on the incompetent. With the change of season, flight schedules had been altered and scaled back. He had trusted one of the younger pilots to redo the schedule—the kind of thing Emma had handled with ease as a teen. The young man—usually intelligent—had made a total muddle of it, with half the pilots angry over their schedules and some routine flights completely left off the list!
Seven years before, when Alan and Emma had died suddenly, Bill had taken the position of Transportation Chief. He had planned to train a replacement and retire, but it hadn’t been that easy. They had a good team of pilots, and excellent back-up pilots such as Alex Koenig, who was a highly qualified pilot as well as a solid biologist. But of all the second generation, those with talents in organization, administration and leadership had already been trained and placed in critical positions of authority in other areas. Transportation was important, of course, but there simply were not any suitable candidates.
He shut off the lights in the apartment and readied for bed, letting the music playing in the background continue. With Annie gone these past three months, the apartment sounded so empty. He had programmed the computer to play music constantly—mostly music Annie hadn’t liked, so it was things he had seldom heard over the last forty years. He lay down, the bed feeling very big and very lonely. He knew he would have a hard time falling asleep. That had been the case ever since he lost Annie. He went over the events of the day, from breakfast with the grandchildren and Dinah to going to work, remembering the people he’d seen, and the conversations they’d had. He’d seen Willem Van’t Hooft at lunch asked about his brother Jorge. Willem said he was home and on the mend, but his spirits were not good. Willem was obviously worried about his older brother.
Jorge had been the most senior of the younger pilots on Loki, and a big help to Bill. He had even been offered the chief pilot position but with his wife assistant to the c-admin on Loki, Jorge had always turned down the position to keep his family together. Becky had lived on Loki as long as they had been allowing people to stay through the off seasons. Bill understood. Annie had been just as adamant about remaining on Alpha.
Bill wondered. Perhaps Jorge could help out—even from Loki—once he was feeling better. It certainly didn’t take legs to fly a desk. Maybe he would talk to Helena in the morning. Just knowing he was needed might help Jorge recover quicker. Bill smiled and turned over. Perhaps there was some relief in sight.
The following morning Helena received a slate note from Halima asking her to attend a video conference regarding Jorge Martinez. She also got a note from Bill asking her to call him. She confirmed the time of the conference with a quick reply and called Bill Fraser. He outlined his wishes and she concurred that Jorge might be encouraged by the prospect of something to do. She promised to discuss it with his doctors. She headed for medical center. Both Bob Mathias and Richard had been included in the request for a conference.
Richard was already looking at Jorge’s file when Helena arrived. He motioned for his mother to join him and she looked through the clinical notes with him. They had just gotten to the incident of the previous evening when Bob joined them. He looked at the information they were reading, nodded, and took a seat. The call came from Loki a few minutes later.
Halima Ofori-Vincent and Crystal Pulcher sat together in Halima’s office. Helena recognized the painting behind her as one of Sal Verdeschi’s.
“Hello from Loki,” Halima said with a smile. “Thanks for joining us on such short notice.”
“Any time,” Richard said. “We’ve all looked at Jorge’s file. What can we do to help?”
Helena watched her son behind a poker face. He immediately took charge as naturally as he breathed. Although it was not physically evident, her red-headed son had much of his father in him.
“Jorge seemed to be doing so well,” Halima said with regret. “Last night’s episode really took us by surprise.”
“Actually, I’ve been expecting something like this,” Bob said. “Something this traumatic is going to require a long period of grief, with regression to previous stages caused by the psychological shock of losing close friends and family at the time of the accident.”
“Do you know what may have brought on last night’s behavior?” Richard asked the question before Helena could.
Crystal shook her head. “I’ve spoken with each of his caregivers from yesterday. Nothing appeared any different from previous days. No one will admit to saying or doing anything that might have triggered this behavior.”
“And I spoke with Becky at length this morning. Jorge seemed fine when she said goodnight. He doesn’t talk to her much—or to anyone else for that matter.” Halima added.
“Crystal, you said ‘no one will admit’?“ Richard pointed out.
She nodded. “Despite the findings of the board of inquiry, there is a certain opinion that the accident was Jorge’s fault.”
“It’s just that everyone here was effected by this,” Halima added. “And it’s more satisfying to have someone to blame.”
“That’s not uncommon, Halima,” Bob assured her. He glanced at Richard and Helena and continued. “His mother-in-law was on that flight. How does his wife feel about all this?”
“Even after two months,” Crystal said. “In many ways she and many others here are still in shock. It hasn’t been easy for her.”
“They have a little girl as well. Could something have happened to her? That Jorge found out about?” Helena suggested.
“Collette spent last night at my place, and we talked some this morning,” Halima said. “She’s definitely upset that her father has changed so much. That bothers her more than losing her grandmother, or his legs. She didn’t say anything about being teased. I can ask her cousins. Duncan’s kids might know something.”
Richard looked at Helena and Bob, then turned back to the screen. “We agreed it was best not to move Jorge away from his family. But in light of that kind of attitude, perhaps we should find some reason to bring him up here for a while? Halima, this isn’t any kind of slight to you or your staff,” he added.
“I know that, Richard,” Halima nodded. “I called because we do need help. Crystal and I agree that we need to move Jorge, but it there needs to be a good justification. To move him now may be interpreted as… punishment perhaps, or at least an admission of guilt.”
“We definitely don’t want that,” Bob said. “What about his wife and child? Do you recommend sending them as well?”
Halima hesitated. Crystal answered. “Becky is needed here, even during the off seasons. And to be honest, her relationship with Jorge is so strained now, they would be better off apart.”
“Separation now will be for the entire season. In another few months, we won’t be able to land an Eagle,” Richard cautioned.
“Perhaps by the end of the season Jorge will be healed enough to make some decisions about his life,” Halima said sadly. “And unfortunately, right now I agree with Crystal. I think both Becky and Collette are better off away from him.”
“He could certainly benefit from intense physical therapy. We’d be able to provide that here.”
Halima nodded. “Bill Reilly is definitely the best.”
“I think I have another reason for him to come up here,” Helena said. She described Fraser’s request. “In many ways he would be the ideal candidate. “He’s handled similar responsibilities on Loki. And although it’s better to have a pilot coordinating things—that removes a pilot from active duty.”
“Do you think he would take the position?” Richard asked Halima.
“I think we need to encourage him to.”
“Perhaps,” Crystal suggested. “It would be better if Bill called him and talked to him.”
“How soon would you recommend moving him?” Richard asked.
“Soon. But we’ll need to have someone to travel with him,” Halima said.
“Crystal,” Helena asked. “When are you and Evan coming home?”
“We’ll be ready to leave in another two weeks,” Crystal said. “With the three kids along the Eagle will be a madhouse, but we could accommodate him.”
“Jorge has always gotten on well with children,” Helena added. I think he would do fine.”
Bob spoke up. “I think Bill should be the one to initially contact him about coming to Alpha. It will look less like a set-up by his doctors.”
The others agreed. Helena would have Bill call Jorge and talk to him. Crystal and Evan would make preparations to bring Jorge to Alpha. Richard would work with Halima and Bob to prepare accommodations and a schedule of both physical and psychological therapy.
Jorge spent most of the next day sedated. It was another twenty-four hours before he really felt conscious again. Duncan tried to talk to him, as did Halima and Crystal. Becky kept her distance and Jorge couldn’t blame her. He didn’t see Collette at all and was not surprised. His outburst had scared her. It made him feel ashamed. He loved Collette so much, and never wanted to hurt her.
Even so, he watched the shadows closely to see if Padraig would return. Marion came and sat with him at bedtime and he almost told his sister what he’d seen, but they’d given him a stronger sedative. He’d barely had a chance to start the conversation before he dropped into oblivion holding his sister’s hand.
The dream wasn’t as scary as having a dead person in your bedroom. They were sitting together on an outcrop of rock overlooking the campsite. To their right was the cove where they’d gone swimming the evening before Padraig died. He remembered watching Padraig’s mom and dad walking away from them down the beach. Maggie had whispered to him that her parents were going to go make another baby. He’d turned all red and warm. They had only recently learned how babies were made and the subject made him uncomfortable.
Padraig leaned against him as they sat together on the ledge. Jorge put his arm around the little boy. “I want to go home,” the child said softly.
“You mean to Alpha?”
Padraig nodded.
“You were homesick then too,” Jorge remembered. He had found Padraig crying under the Eagle, and had coaxed the little boy out. They had hatched the scheme to go swimming that evening. It had seemed like such fun. He’d never realized how badly things would go wrong.
“They’re going to ask you to go work on Alpha. Could I go with you?”
“What’ll they want a crip on Alpha for?” Jorge asked.
“It’s something to do with Eagles. Can we go, please?”
“You’re going to haunt me there too?”
“You can get married again and have a baby and I can be your little boy!”
“What do you know about having babies?” he asked the four year old ghost.
“Maggie told me all about it,” Padraig said enthusiastically.
She would, Jorge thought. He remembered not only nine year old Maggie, but the more curvaceous seventeen year old Maggie, soft and willing in the dark corners of the Grotto. She was the administrator of mining efforts at Potter’s Mine now. Her husband Cory was in charge of mining ops while she ran the small base, keeping everyone fed, clothed and clean. Jorge frequently joined their young family for dinner when he flew in supplies.
Jorge leaned back against the dream rock and pulled his knees up to his chest. It was easy to recognize dreams now. That was where he had legs.
“Becky won’t go to Alpha. She hates it there.”
“No—“ Padraig agreed. “But you could meet someone there and have a baby with them.”
Jorge gave a hopeless grin and shook his head. “Becky and I promised to stay together when we married. I don’t want to break my promise.”
“Even if you don’t love her?”
He had loved her, he thought bleakly. Loved her a good deal more than she ever loved him. He had thought it would be enough to vow to make her happy, to do what she wanted. He just wished he knew what that was. He didn’t even know when things had changed. But he knew Padraig was right. He didn’t love her, and she hadn’t loved him for a long time. He tried to imagine the two of them growing old together but he’d never had much imagination. Right now all he could see was the way she looked at him, with dread and a bit of contempt. Maybe it was time to talk to her. He sighed. “I don’t know,” he said softly.
The two watched the dream sun set into Loki’s sea.
He got a slate note from his younger brother the next morning. It was falsely cheery, asking how he was, giving him news of his nephews and nieces. Willem also asked Jorge about the possibility of coming up to Alpha. He and Bill Reilly were good friends—their kids were on the same football team, and Bill seemed to think he could help Jorge get maximum use out of his remaining muscles. Willem was more diplomatic, but that’s what he meant. Willem said he could ask for a four-bedroom apartment and he and Karen would love to have him stay with them.
Willem would get tired of that pretty quickly, Jorge thought, although he found he appreciated the diplomatic offer. He wondered what Marion had told their little brother. Willem certainly didn’t seem to expect Becky to make the move. Jorge didn’t either.
About midmorning his slate chimed with a call. He accepted it automatically and was surprised to see Bill Fraser’s face on the small screen.
“Jorge? I just wanted to call and see how you were doing.”
“I’m still here,” was the most positive statement Jorge could manage to his old teacher. Bill had taught him to fly as a teen.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner, Jorge. I’ve… been... a bit involved in my own problems.”
Jorge frowned a minute then remembered a brief visit from Alex Koenig shortly after the accident. He’d been on the board of inquiry but had to rush back to Alpha. His mother-in-law had passed away suddenly. “Your wife—“ Jorge started, then didn’t know exactly how to finish it.
“It’s still pretty lonely, but I’m coping,” Bill shrugged. “Really, Jorge, I’ve called to ask you a favor.”
Jorge and Bill had worked together for years, mostly remotely. “Bill, I’m still on the sick list. I’m afraid I couldn’t even tell you if the remaining Eagles have been properly mothballed.”
“Oh, I can tell you that. Everything is moving smoothly—as well as possible with you out of action and Friedhelm gone. I had Evan Pulcher help. It’s been a good experience for him. He’s been discussing the possibility of year round habitation at Morrow, probably by next summer.
Jorge nodded. “Some of the Sauique people are talking about the same thing. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.” It was an opinion he’d not voiced to anyone else, but he trusted the old man who had taught him to fly.
“As the population increases we’ll need room to expand,” Bill said with a philosophic shrug. “In another decade, your kid’s generation will be raising families. And with a larger population will come more manufacturing and more growth. By the time you’re an old man like me, Morrow, Sauique and Dover will each have populations greater than all the Alphans together now.”
Jorge shook his head. It was a strange though. That many people was a concept hard for him to grasp. “You said something about a favor?”
Bill took a deep breath and nodded. “Jorge we’ve talked about this before. But I wanted to ask you again now that circumstances have changed.”
Jorge knew what he was about to ask, he just knew.
“Jorge, I want to retire. And I can’t find an adequate replacement. I know you prefer flying to paperwork, but you do have a talent for organization and scheduling. You’ve been a great help to me these last few years, taking on most of the scheduling for Loki. It really gives you more experience than anyone else has. I just want you to be thinking about this, while you’re recovering.”
“Working on Alpha?”
“This job really needs to be here,” Bill said with a sigh. “The repair and manufacturing aspects of the Chief of Transportation’s job are here, and really need to be hands on. Plus, the Commander’s Staff meets here and you would have a seat on the staff. I know this would be disruptive to your family, plus that accident had some devastating effects on Dover’s community. I know the timing may not be the best, but I’d like you to consider it.”
Jorge looked at the screen blankly, not sure what to say. A job having to do with Eagles. How could he have dreamed that up? He’d finally convinced himself that his ghostly visitor was just some sort of figment of his imagination. Somehow his mind had associated the near-fatal Eagle crash with his first ever experience with death, and re-created Padraig. He took a deep breath. “Bill, the timing probably couldn’t be any better. Under other circumstances I would turn you down flat, but, right now, I think I need a change. I think I’d like to come home.” As soon as he said it, he knew that last sentence was true. Like Padraig, something deep inside him considered Alpha home, not this warren in Loki’s cliffside.
He remembered the first off-season his parents had decided to stay. His mother had been all for it; but his father had been reluctant. Like Jorge, his father was a flier. Being grounded for two years was not his idea of fun, and Jorge heard the arguments that had lasted long and loudly into the night for weeks. Jorge had been terrified of being closed in for so long, but he’d never mentioned it to anyone. The next season, he’d been old enough to sign up to stay on Alpha, but the season after that, he’d been involved with Becky and he’d stayed on Loki since then. Now Becky would be glad to be rid of him and although he was sure there was a part of him somewhere that loved her, he was tired of watching her grow to hate him.
Bill’s relief was obvious and genuine. “Terrific. I’ll take care of the transfer arrangements from this end. Evan Pulcher and his family will be coming home in a few weeks. I’m sure you could travel with them.”
“Crystal has been helping out Halima. That’s why they were delayed.”
“Yes, and Crystal will be able to see to any special needs you have,” Bill paused, looking slightly embarrassed, but Jorge just nodded. “I’ll look forward to seeing you, Jorge.”
Jorge nodded again and disconnected.
“Just like that, you’re going to leave?” Becky said from the doorway. Jorge didn’t know how much she’d heard, but it was obviously enough. Perhaps it was best. He hadn’t any idea how he would have talked to her. They hadn’t talked about anything but day-to-day matters, or Collette in ages. “Something like that.”
“Do you expect me to go with you?” she asked bluntly.
He couldn’t see her. His bed faced away from the doorway. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He sighed. “I don’t expect anything from you, Becky.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Becky still didn’t walk into the room.
“I don’t expect you to come with me. I don’t expect you to wait for me. I don’t even expect you to miss me when I’m gone.”
“I’ve been a good wife to you—“ she started.
“Yes, you have. But I can’t put you through this anymore. I don’t expect you to move away from your home, your friends, your job. I need to find a way to get better, and it’s not going to happen here.”
“Are you coming back?” she asked. Her voice small.
“I don’t think so. Not to stay.”
“What about our marriage? Collette?”
Jorge closed his eyes. She was asking questions, but she wasn’t protesting. If she, just once, said she wanted him to stay it would be different. “I think we need to end the marriage. Legally and officially. Neither one of us wants the kind of—encumbrance that Marion and Duncan have. As for Collette, I need to get better before I can be a good father again. Perhaps when I‘m well she can come for visits, even stay for a school year or so. When I’m well.”
“You’re certain about this?”
He nodded without opening his eyes. He heard her shut the door and he was alone. He felt a small hand press against his thigh. He scooted over carefully and felt Padraig settle comfortably against his leg.
“We’re going home?” he heard the boy ask hopefully.
“Yes Padraig. We’re going home.”
The flight to Alpha was long and tiring. Crystal did her best to make Jorge comfortable and he tried to remain on his best behavior. Evan spent a great deal of time sitting on the floor of the Eagle with his two little boys, Vic, age three; and Caleb, who was not quite two. He kept them occupied with a bag full of blocks that locked together and appeared to be hand carved and much used. The baby, Lisel, was a happy six month old who spent her time gurgling, eating or sleeping.
Jorge watched the small happy family quietly, and endured. Padraig stayed out of sight, but Jorge knew he was there. At liftoff he’d felt a small familiar hand squeeze his knee. And once he watched Vic build a tower of blocks impossibly high. The tower looked like it was being steadied by a pair of small but helpful invisible hands. Jorge wondered if the little-boy-ghost missed playing with toys.
When they approached Alpha several days later, Crystal insisted that her excited and energetic sons fasten safety belts and sit still for landing. Jorge sat too. Crystal had been encouraging him to sit up some every day. At first it exhausted him. After spending so many weeks lying in bed, just sitting up—and figuring how to balance without feet or knees—exhausted him.
As soon as they landed, the boys were ready to get up and go. Crystal, seated behind the boys and next to Jorge sighed and Jorge gave her a sympathetic smile. Collette had always been just as impatient with him when she flew. Once docking was complete, the door opened. Instead of a member of the docking crew, as Jorge expected, Commander Koenig stepped aboard.
“Grandpa!” The two boys struggled with their seatbelts.
“Hey! There’s my boys!” The Commander knelt in front of them, helping with seat belts and accepting enthusiastic kisses. He stood and gave Crystal a quick kiss. “I thought you might need some help.”
“You are too right. Please take them somewhere they can run around for a while,” Crystal replied returning his kiss.
“Well, the twins are at soccer practice, so we’re headed there next.” Vic and Caleb were jumping up and down.
“Jorge,” the Commander said, leaning down with a hand outstretched. “Good to see you recovering. Welcome home.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jorge took the commander’s hand. He had forgotten that Evan was the Commander’s son. He hadn’t expected to see him.
“Bill is looking forward to working with you, but don’t let him overwork you.”
Jorge smiled and nodded, but wasn’t required to think of a suitable reply. Evan entered the passenger section from the cockpit and greeted his father. As the commander herded the boys out, Crystal called, “Dad, don’t you fill the boys with sweets. If they come home with a sugar buzz I’m sending them to spend the night with you!”
“Crystal!” Koenig tried to sound innocent. “Would I do that?”
Evan laughed. “She knows your tricks, Dad. And she’s a doctor, so she’ll know.”
“Helena always did too,” John called reluctantly. “We’ll be good! Mostly.”
The boys and their grandfather vanished into the travel tube before Crystal could reply. They passed Bill Reilly coming out of the travel tube with Willem Van’t Hooft. The commander greeted the two young men and the travel tube headed away.
Bill poked his head in the Eagle. “Someone in here need a lift?”
Evan was just preparing to lift Jorge into his wheel chair. He turned and smiled. “Hello Bill, Willem.”
Jorge smiled at his younger brother who grinned back at him. Bill took charge of the situation immediately. He helped Evan get Jorge into the wheel chair, and soon Bill, Jorge and Willem were headed to the travel tube. Willem carried two jump bags for Jorge and Evan promised to send along the two boxes of Jorge’s things that he had brought from Loki. It was a meager kit Jorge brought, all his worldly possessions fit into just under a half cubic meter. But Jorge felt happy to be here. It surprised him, but listening to Bill’s jokes and descriptions of his new quarters and his upcoming schedule of physical therapy made him feel happier than he’d been since the accident.
His new quarters had been completely re-designed. They were close to the center of Alpha, and so quite a distance from Willem’s family’s quarters in one of the newer family dorms. But it was convenient to Main Mission, Medical Center, the main (and oldest) dining room, and travel tubes to all outlying sections. The rooms were small, but Bill and Richard had obviously given a lot of thought to what a person in a wheel chair would need. All cabinets were in easy reach from the wheel chair. The counters had been lowered, and in some cases deepened to accommodate a wheel chair sliding underneath. The sinks in bathroom and kitchenette had been modified so he could reach the controls and spigot easily. The small table and the desk were both the right height for a wheel chair, and there was a rolling table which could be adjusted for use with the sofa or easy chair so that Jorge would not need to be in the wheel chair at all times.
There were no steps in the apartment, which Jorge thought was unusual in this older part of Alpha. The floor was all the same level, and level with the hallway. Only the bedroom had windows, and Jorge got a glimpse of the stark dark landscape as they showed him the bed and modified commpost in the bedroom.
After the tour, Bill rolled him back into the living room and sat on the sofa, positioning Jorge so they faced each other. Willem had volunteered to unpack Jorge’s clothes and remained in the bedroom.
“I want to start your physical therapy tomorrow morning,” Bill said seriously. His tone had changed from cheerful joking tour guide to professional.
Jorge just nodded. He had taken everything in, but had been quiet throughout the journey.
“Jorge, I’d like you to tell me what you think physical therapy can accomplish for you. Much of your recovery is going to depend on what you expect will happen.”
During the eagle trip Jorge had the time to reflect on this. Crystal had not pressured him to talk, about anything, simply accepting his silence. He had been grateful for that. He still wasn’t about to tell anyone about Padraig.
“I want to be independent, Bill.” He found himself saying. “I want to be able to wipe my own arse, move from one piece of furniture to another with out help, and if not cook my own food, at least be able to get to the dining room on my own. I’m sure I can do the job Bill Fraser wants me to do, but I have to figure out how to take care of myself first.”
Bill nodded. “Sounds like you’re on the right track. I don’t remember you much from school. You were in Alex and Maggie’s class weren’t you?”
“That’s right. We were a bit older than you and Richard.”
“Did you enjoy gymnastics?”
“Not really. I was more into team sports. Football, basketball, and the like.”
“Well, you’re going to have to start enjoying it now, or be pretty miserable. We need to build your upper body strength. Those muscles will be the ones you use to compensate for the loss of your legs. At first you’re going to be exhausted and clumsy. But the harder you work at it, the better you’ll get, and before you know it, you will be wiping your own arse,” Bill grinned at him.
Jorge nodded resolutely. “When do we begin?”
“Right now. I’m going to start you on some exercises you can do whenever you have a free moment.” He reached into a cabinet in the table by the sofa and pulled out two small dumbells. “Tomorrow we’ll meet with Crystal and Richard and you’ll undergo a bunch of medical tests and they’ll see if you need any medical treatment. Are you on pain meds?”
“Yeah, something. I’m not sure what.” Jorge hadn’t paid much attention, he just swallowed whatever Halima or Crystal handed him.
“We want to try to get you off of those. As you heal, you shouldn’t need them. And they might ask you to talk to Dr. Mathias.”
Jorge frowned. “About my screaming and stuff.”
“Dr. Bob is a good man. He’s a good listener, and keeps what you say to himself. You might find it helpful.”
Jorge hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you—do you ever think about your little brother?”
“Paddy? Sometimes.” Bill grinned and shrugged. “Well, more frequently than sometimes—him and Ma. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I guess, coming here, and knowing I was going to be working with you, I was remembering that time we went to Loki together.”
“Yeah. I thought about that too,” Bill said awkwardly.
Willem returned to the living room then and broke the awkward silence that hung in the air. Bill showed Jorge the exercises he wanted Jorge to begin, using the small light dumbells and moving his arms in three distinct patterns over and over.
Willem’s family showed up shortly, bringing dinner with them. Bill slipped out, but urged Jorge to repeat the exercises as much as he felt he could. Jorge was soon exhausted with the travel, the company and the exercises. Willem helped him to bed and told him that tonight he would stay on Jorge’s sofa. Until Jorge was ready to stay on his own Willem, Bill and a few people from Medical Center would trade off staying with him at night. Jorge resolved to exercise as much as possible so he could gain his independence quickly.
He glanced around the room and saw that Willem had already hung their father’s old crucifix above the dresser. The wrought iron cross held a suffering Christ and at the bottom was a small holder for a votive candle. Becky had never allowed it to be hung in their apartment. She thought it was scary looking. Jorge had always liked it, and had enjoyed the devotional time with his father and siblings that it represented to him, but for Becky, he had quietly put it away.
He noticed Willem following his gaze. “Light it, Willi. Please.”
“Sure Jorge.”
There was a little magnesium lighter fastened by a magnet to the bottom of the candle holder. They said the old prayers together, softly. It had been a long time for Jorge, but he hadn’t forgotten the words. Willem seemed completely at ease with the prayers.
“Have you prayed for them?” Willem asked him. “Freidhelm and the other ones that died.”
Jorge was silent for a while. He hadn’t even thought about prayer for a long time. Just hearing Freidhelm’s name took him back to those long hours in the cockpit. “No.”
“We did. Karen and I and the children. And we said the prayers at Mass too. I know they weren’t all even Christian, much less Catholic. But we said the prayers for all of them.”
Jorge nodded.
“We’re planning to have Dio de los Muertos in a few weeks. The last couple of years, with the kids and all, we’ve had permission to hold it in the memory garden. Think you’ll feel like coming?”
“You have a celebration?”
“A big one,” Willem turned and smiled. “Even some of the non-Catholics come. It took a while to convince the Father. He wasn’t hispanic you know, and hadn’t had any experience with Mexican beliefs. But when he saw how much enthusiasm it generated, he came round. I’ve been the one organizing it. We have Piñatas and music and a little parade. Last year we even put on a Posada a couple of months later.”
“That’s good Willi. Si, I’d be honored to attend.” Back with his brother again, he felt comfortable falling into the pastiche of Spanish and English they had used as children. He missed speaking Spanish since his father died. And why had he never taught Collette any Spanish?
“Bien. Muy bien, hermano.” Willem smiled at him. “Get some rest now.”
Willem carefully put out the candle and left the room. Jorge settled into the darkness comfortably. He looked toward the small window and smiled. He could see the stars. He felt Padraig’s presence next to him and did not bother to open his eyes.
“I saw my brother! He’s so big!” Padraig whispered.
“He’s a big man. And he’s going to help me get better.” Jorge murmured sleepily.
“That’s good.”
“So, are you going to haunt him now instead of me?” Jorge asked softly.
“Oh, no. He doesn’t need me. And you do.”
Jorge smiled. “I guess I do.” He felt Padraig pat his nonexistant thigh softly. It wasn’t so bad being haunted by such a kind and gentle spirit. He’d say an extra special prayer of thanks on the Dio de los Meurtes for his little friend. Jorge drifted into a peaceful sleep. Looking forward to the days ahead for the first time in a long time.
It was Bill Fraser who volunteered to take Jorge to the celebration. Jorge was working hard and exercising for hours a day. He no longer took any medications, and he actually felt much better. When he wasn’t working with Bill Reilly, he could usually be found with Bill Fraser either in Main Mission or one of the landing bays. The work was fascinating and stimulating. He couldn’t remember being more at ease with new responsibilities.
Jorge was ready to roll when Fraser arrived, surrounded by grandchildren and a few extras, who circled him like satellites, constantly in motion. Ten year old Deep wanted to push the wheel chair, but Bill commandeered the chair himself. The nine year old Carter twins dashed ahead to call the travel tube with their friend Emil Devers. Owen Koenig followed them with an odd hopping gait. Bella walked seriously next to him, and Jorge noticed her eyes straying to the tucked in ends of his trousers.
She saw he was caught and smiled shyly at him. “Do they… still hurt?”
“Not much, anymore,” Jorge answered briefly and almost truthfully.
“Bella, keep your curiosity to yourself,” Bill warned. To Jorge he explained, “She’s already helping her Uncle Richard in Medical Center. She wants to be a doctor.”
“Yes, Grandpapa,” Bella said, but she smiled at Jorge who smiled back at her. “I hope they have a band like they did last year,” she changed the subject.
“Did you have a good time last year?” Jorge asked her, missing Collette with a pang.
Bella nodded. “Oh yes! They had music and we danced. Frere Willem taught us the words to some Mexican songs too.”
“And they had these things we hit with a stick, and when they broke candy came out!” One of the boys contributed. The two Carter boys looked exactly alike to Jorge. Their cousins, Bella’s little brothers, were dark, and their friend Emil even darker, with smoky colored skin and black ringlets.
The travel tube pulled to a stop and the children swarmed out. Bill pushed Jorge’s chair down the hall to the door of the memory garden.
The garden was a small dome of carbonite glass. It had been built as a memorial to those who had died on the journey here from Earth, and those who had died since. There were no individual markers, but a low curving wall held the names of those who had died carved into it. There were flowering plants everywhere and walkways and benches. Usually it was a quiet place, set aside for reflection. But today it was full of life. It appeared that nearly every child on Alpha was here, and many of their parents and grandparents.
Willem was one of the organizers of the day’s activity. He hurried by the spot where Jorge and Bill had settled, on the side of a small rise, near the band. He stopped long enough to put a hand on Jorge’s shoulder and wish him a buenos dias. Bill’s grandchildren and their cousins dashed back and forth, trying the food from the booths spread around the garden, bringing Bill and Jorge food. One of the Carter twins dashed up holding a tiny skeleton.
“We found it, Uncle Bill! It’s over here. Come see.”
Bill looked at Jorge who urged him to go on. The boy tugged at the old man’s hand as he stood slowly. “They wanted to find their parents’ names on the wall. I told them they’d have to look for themselves.”
Jorge nodded and watched them go.
Other children walked past, many of them holding the tiny skeletons. Many of their parents stopped to chat with Jorge. Bella dashed up and put one of the little skeletons in his hand.
“I thought you might want one too!” She said, her eyes shining.
“Thank you.”
“Deep is going to get a turn at the Piñata next!” She pointed and Jorge could see past some low bushes to where Bill Reilly’s father was controlling the rope on the Pinata. Deep Koenig had the stick in his hand and an old lady that Jorge didn’t recognize was tying a blindfold around his eyes.
Bella headed off. Jorge felt a phantom touch against his knee. He leaned forward and said softly. “Go on, go watch.” He might be crazy, but he had become used to the little ghost, or the figment of his imagination, whichever it was. He had talked to Dr. Mathias on a weekly basis, but had still never mentioned Padraig. He didn’t think he ever would, but he hoped the little guy stayed around for a while.
An altar had been set up not far away. He had seen several people stop and light a candle, stand a few minutes in silent prayer and move on. He flipped the locks on the wheels and pushed off toward the altar. There were several people he wanted to light candles for, Padraig, Friedhelm, and his former mother-in-law among them. He realized that for the first time he had thought of Friedhelm and Shermeen without the pang of guilt. He made it to the altar on his own, lit the candles and said his prayers. After attending Mass with Willem and his family weekly the prayers came more easily.
He had just finished and was pulling away from the altar when someone lightly touched his shoulder.
“Hello Jorge.”
He turned and saw a slender young woman silky hair dyed dark and pulled back in a long braid. She held a small girl easily on her hip, the child appeared to be about two years old.
“Hi Sydney.”
“I’d heard you were on Alpha, but I hadn’t had a chance to see you.”
“It’s good to see you.” Jorge looked around and saw that there were others waiting. His palms were a bit sweaty.
“I’m on the regular C-2 to Alpha run now, but I guess you probably know that.”
“I saw your name on the roster.” He pushed away from the altar and Sydney put down the little girl and moved to help him. He headed them back toward the bench where he and Bill had been sitting. The child walked next to them.
“Is she yours?” Jorge asked. He’d lost track of Sydney at some point. For a while she had been on local runs only, and they had met up on his trips to Alpha.
“Yeah. Her dad was a miner at C-2.”
“Was?”
“There was an accident, about a year ago. He was moving a small ‘roid’ with attachable jets, and the jet went off while he was attaching it.” She settled on the bench beside him. The little girl, dressed in the ubiquitous blue shorts and shirt sat on the grass in front of them, carefully examining the blades of grass that were tickling her toes that peeked out of tiny sandals.
“I’m sorry.”
Sydney nodded and glanced back at the altar. “We lit a candle for him.”
Jorge nodded.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said. “Are you… doing okay?”
“Yeah. I am. Better than I thought I would.”
“Maybe we could have dinner sometime?”
“I’d like that.”
There was a cheer from the Piñata crowd. Bella was pulling the blindfold from her eyes as small candies rained down around her. Her brothers and cousins and the other children were diving for the candies. Sydney and Jorge exchanged a smile.
The band began playing a song his father had taught them. Jorge felt a part of the celebration, and Alpha, and felt more alive than he had in a long time. It was a very good day.
Ellen Lindow
August 2000