NO MAN AN ISLE
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Chapter 14
As traffic stalled, Don looked up at the black clouds punctuated by the slow rumble of thunder, then glanced at his watch - a quarter past eleven, wondering how traffic could possibly be so heavy at this time of night. 'Of course,' he thought, remembering the night Kurt had taken him to the play, 'the Lost Colony theatre let out a while ago.' He fretted until the line of cars began to creep forward once more, knowing now why Kurt tried to avoid driving this far down the beach after the season opened. A few large drops of rain pounded the hood of the Peep. Responding to the sudden bright red flash of the tail-lights of the car ahead, Don jammed his foot on the brake and swore, using the pause to pull up the hood of his raincoat. Open Jeeps were fun, except in weather like this.
Gradually the line of cars thinned and picked up speed, bearing left toward the bridge to the mainland. The drops continued intermittently until he reached the end of the pavement the other side of Duck. The rain fell steadily now, but the wet sand gave the tires added traction. He picked up speed, driving above the wash of the powerful waves. In the darkness and rain, his visibility was limited to the narrow beam of the headlights. He overshot his turn, aware when the lights of the station became visible.
He swore again as he stopped and climbed out to open the gate, for against the far gatepost lay a large pile of blue rags. While gate opened, he walked over out of curiosity. He was startled to see it was a kid about his age crumpled to the sand. For a moment he feared the boy might be dead, but as he leaned closer, the boy moved slowly, struggled to a sitting position and rubbed his head. In the scant light, Don saw the hand and forehead streaked red. Drops of blood welled, mixing with the raindrops and running down his face. Don reached out his hand to help him up. When he stood, Don could see that both knees of his jeans were torn, his T-shirt rent into strings held together by the neck and bottom seams; only the large sneakers he wore remained in fair condition. The boy looked dazed.
"Who are you?"
He shrugged.
"What are you doing here?"
The head moved in a negative motion.
"Get in, I'm getting soaked," Don snapped, for the rain had begun to fall heavily.
The boy got out at the house and watched Don spread a tarp over his Peep before motioning him toward the steps. In the light of the entrance hall, Don looked the boy over. He stood almost as tall as Erik, pitifully thin, but the blue eyes, sunken in a drawn face, still held a glazed unresponsive stare. The boy shook his head several times as if to clear it. A bruise darkened one cheek, the tow hair matted, a patch of hair behind his left ear lumped with drying blood. A wider streak of blood smeared his left arm.
"Don, is that you?" Kurt called from the kitchen.
"Yeah."
"Want a cup of coffee and a sandwich with us?"
Don beckoned for the boy to follow. Kurt was filling mugs as Erik spread pimento cheese on slices of whole wheat bread. Erik was the first to look up.
"Jesus! Where'd you find that?"
"He was by the gate. I thought it was something somebody had thrown out at first, but it was him."
The boy shivered. At his feet a puddle from his rain drenched clothes collected on the tiles.
"What were you doing by our gate?" Kurt asked quietly.
The boy shrugged.
"Who are you?"
He shrugged again.
Erik's patience died; he loomed over the boy. "Damn it, answer him," he snapped in a threatening tone.
The boy trembled. "I ... Two guys picked me up in Norfolk. When we got down here, they tried to rob me. I didn't have much money so they threw me out of the car. So dark I didn't know where I was. I walked 'til I found the gate. I tried to get in. I don't remember anything else 'til he came." He pointed to Don.
"You mean they took your clothes and things on with them?" Erik asked.
The boy started to answer, but sneezed violently.
"Don, take him up to your room and get him in a hot shower, then find something for him to put on before he catches pneumonia." Kurt said.
"No clothes."
"I think Don's underwear and T-shirt will fit you, but I expect it will take a pair of Erik's pants."
"There's a pair of white uniform trousers in my closet, Don. They're too small for me, but they should fit him."
"Okay, Erik. Say," Don looked at the boy, "what's your name?"
"Kev."
"You mean Kevin?" Kurt asked.
After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Kevin Kemperer."
"Okay, Kev, come on."
When he came back down, Kev's appearance was vastly improved. His shoulder length blond hair was clean, dry and silky, and he had shaved, leaving a light moustache which accentuated the thinness of his sharp featured face. As Erik passed a couple of sandwiches to him, he smiled for the first time.
"More?" Erik asked, astonished at the speed with which the food had vanished.
Kev shook his head, but held out his glass for more milk.
"Don, did you see any of the cops out when you came in?" Kurt asked.
"I saw one on the turnoff."
"Then we'd better take Kevin down to the station so he came report this."
The glass in Kev's hand banged against the table. "No fuzz!"
"You can't let this go," Kurt insisted. "If you report it now, they may catch the men who robbed you."
"Didn't have much money. Not worth it."
"Even if you didn't lose much, it might prevent someone else from getting hurt by them."
"No."
"Yes, you will." Erik pulled him to his feet.
The brief storm had passed. The four of them climbed in Kurt's Jeep.
One of the summer men was on duty, chair tipped back, cap pulled down over his eyes. He awoke when Erik slammed the door, after pushing a reluctant Kev in before him.
"What can I do for you," the cop growled, coming erect in the chair.
"We want to report a robbery," snapped Erik.
"Damn. Let me find the form." The cop plundered through several desk drawers until he found the report blank. "Okay, which one of you was it?"
Erik pointed to Kev. "Him."
The questions seemed endless as the officer, with Erik's persuasion, pried the information from a reticent Kev. At last he appeared satisfied. "I doubt we'll find 'em, but we'll give it a try. You can guess what it's like with people coming and going all the time." He looked at Kev. "Where can we reach you?"
Kev shrugged. "Hitching around."
The officer looked at him sternly. "There's a law against sleeping on the beach. If you don't have money for a room, I'll have to classify you a vagrant and lock you up."
Kev glanced at the officer and dropped his head. "No money."
The officer picked a keyring with a significant look at him. "I'll put you in a holding cell until one of the guys can transport you to the jail in Manteo."
"Just a bloody minute," snapped Erik. "He told you his attackers took his money and he hasn't done anything wrong. You can't be serious about locking him up."
The cop nodded, reaching for Kev's arm. "These kids are getting to be a real pain in the ass, all over the place and sleeping on the beach. One's already been run over this summer by a guy going out before daylight to fish."
"He's staying with us."
The officer looked a bit disappointed. "Why didn't you say so in the first place."
"Never mind. Come on, Kev."
"Hey, how do I get up with you?"
"Call North Station; they can reach us."
"You the folks live in that old house up there?"
"What about it?"
"I heard the chief's kid talking about what a great place it is."
"That was Sammy," Don explained to Kurt.
They fell into bed, Kevin sharing Don's room.
Even at ten, Erik was the only one up. He carried a mug of tea in to Kurt and sat on the side of the bed after Kurt took it. "Look, I'm sorry about last night, but I couldn't let that snotty little cop put the kid in jail. It wasn't his fault he got robbed."
"I guess I'd of done the same, but frankly, Erik, I can't afford for him to stay very long. There's enough coming in to take care of us, but it won't stretch much further."
"Why didn't you say so before this? I let most of my pay accumulate, so I'll be glad to help out. You know that. I should have done already. I mean after the way you've made this my home, too."
"I want you to think of it as home, Erik, and I hate to complain of anything you want for that reason, but ..."
"Forget it. I shouldn't have been so thoughtless. Ready for some breakfast?"
Don was in the kitchen. "Boy, did I sleep! Haven't you got breakfast ready yet?"
"Kurt and I were talking. Where's Kev?"
"Still asleep. He sure doesn't talk much, does he?"
"That's a habit I hope you pick up from him, motormouth."
"Oh, shut up," Don retorted, knowing Erik was always grumpy until after his first cup of morning coffee.
The three of them had just sat down when Kevin appeared. He smiled as he took the place across from Don. He ate slowly in contrast to the way he had wolfed his food the night before. Watching the elegance of his manners, Kurt realized the boy was no ordinary runaway.
"Thank you for keeping me out of jail. Is there something I can do to repay you?" The question directed at Erik.
"This is Kurt's place. Don and I just sort of clutter it up. Don takes care of everything that needs doing."
"Please. I gotta have something to wear."
"Don't worry about that. You may stay a few days and we'll try to find something for you," replied Kurt.
"Let's go into Elizabeth City," said Erik. "I can get him some things where you get Don's. You said something about having to go in for some stuff you can't get here, didn't you?"
Don and Kevin sat in the back of the Jeep. Don noticed that Kevin seemed uncomfortable during drive, quick to grasp the seat tightly every time Erik sped up to pass other cars. Both times a highway patrol car passed going in the opposite direction, Kevin dropped his head quickly, as if to hide. Though he felt sorry for the boy, Don felt a vague unease at his presence that he had not felt with Erik once he had overcome his initial fear.
Kevin displayed none of the indecision of Don in the store. He selected quality clothing, careful to take only enough to fill his present needs.
As they crossed the bridge on the trip home, a highway patrol car waited to make a turn. Kurt waved to the patrolman with whom he'd exchanged pleasantries on several occasions in the village. Kevin quickly turned his head so that his face was hidden from the officer's view.
"Come on, Erik, I need this canvas," Don begged when they were home.
"Not now, babe, I'm tired."
Kevin touched Don on the arm. "I'll help."
"You know how to stretch canvas?" Don asked in surprise.
"You tell me."
"Okay. Let's get your stuff put away first."
Don moved some of his things to free a drawer in the chest for Kevin to use. He stopped him as he was about to drop the newly purchased clothing in the drawer. "Neatly or they won't be straight when you go to put them on." He showed him how to fold the garments and watched as the boy completed the task. He was aware of the flash of anger that crossed Kevin's face as he pointed to the borrowed clothes that Kevin had dropped to the floor when he changed and pointed to the hamper in the bathroom. "We don't leave clothes lying around. Put them in the hamper when you take them off. Besides," he added sharply, "they're my clothes."
Kevin put the garments away then looked at Don.
"Good. Let's stretch that canvas."
Kevin proved adept with tools. Once Don gave him the dimensions, the frames went together smoothly. They were stretching canvas over the last frame when the organ blower started and faint sounds of the instrument intruded. The tack hammer fell from Kevin's hand. "Record?"
"Erik." Don realized the boy had not yet seen the library. "Want to hear him? Come on."
Kevin's eyes glowed as he looked at the organ and the harpsichord. He crossed to Erik. "Can I try?"
"Sure."
To their astonishment, he slid on the bench, made a selection of stops, and began to play.
"Komm Susser Tod," Erik whispered to Don. The piece rose in intensity and died away.
"You play well," Kurt said. "How long have you studied?"
"Four years." Kevin turned back to the music and pointed to a section. "How would you do this, Erik?"
"Like so." Erik's interpretation differed from Kevin's. As the boy questioned, Erik pointed to the markings on the page.
Kev said something too softly for Don to hear.
"Sure I'll teach you," Erik replied. "Now here ..."
For the first time, Don felt let down by Erik. "Kurt, I've got one more to finish. Would you help me?"
Kurt sensed his disappointment. "Sure."
In the seclusion of the utility room, he asked, "What's the matter?"
"There's something funny about that kid. He was going to put the clothes Erik bought him in the drawer just any old way. Then he threw the things he borrowed from me on the floor and was going to leave them. He got pissed when I made him pick them up and put them in the hamper. Besides, every time we passed a cop today, he hid his face."
"Are you sure it wasn't just coincidence?"
"I know he did when you waved to Mr. Gray when we made our turn."
"That seems odd. I wonder if he's in trouble."
"I don't know, but I'm going to watch him. I was going to tell Erik, but he's so hung up on the kid, I'm afraid to."
"Keep this just between us, Don. If he does anything you think suspicious, tell me. I'll have a talk with Erik if I think it's needed." He drove the last tack in. "There, that does it. You going to start something else?"
"Got one or two in mind. This time, I'll have a decent number to show."
Don set one of the prepared canvasses in place and looked at it. The presence of Kevin disturbed his concentration, and Erik's preoccupation with the boy added to his annoyance. He finally turned away and picked up a book he'd been reading and sat on the floor leaning against Kurt's chair. He looked up when Erik laughed.
"Your touch is too heavy. When you learn to lighten up, perhaps Kurt'll let you try it."
That Kurt had not risen to the hint that Kevin wanted to try the harpsichord pleased Don, for as Erik's enjoyment of the afternoon became more openly apparent, Don grew more silent. Kurt became aware that Don smarted under the sting of jealousy. He reached down to tousle Don's hair, receiving a grateful smile in return.
Don's pique increased after dinner when Kevin did not offer to help clear or wash up. Instead he lay on the floor with Erik, following the score as they listened to a recording. After he and Kurt cleaned the kitchen, Don went back to his painting and began to block out the canvas, working from sheer will.
He went cold with anger when he entered the bathroom to get ready for bed. The towel and washcloth Kev had used lay in soggy heaps on the floor, other things spread in careless array. Water puddled in front of the lavatory.
Don exploded. "You get in here and clean up this mess!" He yelled at a startled Kevin. "Wipe up that water, hang up that towel and wash cloth, and put your stuff away. This ain't no friggin' pig pen!"
Erik ran into the room and faced Don accusingly. "What the hell are you yelling about?"
"That bath looks like a damn pig sty. I'm not cleaning up after him."
Kevin had straightened the bath fairly well by the time Erik went to his rescue. "Don't mind Don, he's an old maid about things." He put his arm around Kevin's shoulders. "You will try to keep things picked up, won't you?"
"Okay."
"Shit," Don muttered under his breath.
Awake before anyone else, Don made several changes in the work he'd outlined on the canvas the night before. When he heard Kurt, he took a mug of tea in to him and returned to start breakfast.
Erik's voice broke into his thoughts. "You shouldn't have yelled at Kev that way last night. I want you to apologize."
"What?"
"You heard me." Erik's finger pointed accusingly, his voice cold. "You had no reason to yell; you could have asked nicely."
Rather than incite argument, Don turned back to the stove when Erik made no move to help.
"You cooking this morning?" Kurt asked in surprise.
"Yeah. It's ready."
While they lingered over coffee, Don glared darkly at the doorway. Kevin stood there yawning.
"Come sit down, Kev," Erik said. "Don'll fix your breakfast."
Don stared at Erik. 'You can damn well do it,' he thought, but Erik continued to sip his coffee. As Kevin took his chair, he gave Don a wary look. Erik smiled at the boy indulgently.
'I'll be damned!' Don thought, as he got up to fix the eggs, bacon, and toast, and pour a glass of milk. He slammed the plate down before Kevin.
Kurt did not ignore the display of hostility. "Don," he said quietly.
"I'm sorry," Don mumbled and bolted from the room.
He curled up in Kurt's chair, holding Coastie, thinking, 'What the hell's wrong with me? The kid's done nothing. He's messy, sure, but Erik's right, I shouldn't have yelled at him like I did. But why didn't Erik cook breakfast? He always does it on Sunday and he wouldn't even help me. I'm sorry I let the kid in. I still don't trust him, even if I am jealous.'
Feeling better now that he admitted the difficulty to himself, Don went back to the kitchen and held out his hand. "I'm sorry I yelled at you last night and being mean. I won't do it again."
Kevin's fingers brushed the palm of Don's hand briefly, though no emotion expressed itself from his face.
Erik, however, smiled at Don. "Thanks."
After lunch, Kurt and Don missed them as they cleared the table, for Erik and Kevin had left without a word. From the kitchen window, they saw them hoisting the sails on the boat.
"Didn't Erik ask you to go with them?" Kurt asked.
Don only shook his head, Kurt reading the hurt. "Let's ride down the beach, okay?"
Campbell met them at the door to the gallery. "It's about time you showed up. I was beginning to think I was going to have to drive that damned beach again. You got something to show?"
"Been at it all winter."
"Same junk as last time, I suppose. Well, bring it in three weeks or so. Early as it is, we might get lucky and sell some of it."
When they left the gallery, Kurt took the back road to the village of Kitty Hawk.
"Where are you going?"
"To see if there's any word of the men who robbed Kev."
A highway patrol car stood outside the police station. Derek Gray leaned against the fender as he talked with the chief of police. He looked up. "Hi, Kurt. Don."
"Derek, Chief."
"Business or pleasure, Kurt?"
"Little of both, Chief. I thought I'd check to see if you've found out anything about the robbery we reported."
"Not yet. I gave the description of the men to Derek, here."
"Was that the kid with youall yesterday when you passed me?"
Kurt nodded. "Why?"
"He turned so fast I didn't get a chance to look at him. I'd like to get those guys, though. Especially if they were high, like he thought."
Back at home, they sat on the deck listening to a Mozart piano sonata and sipping cold drinks. The time with Kurt had helped restore Don’s good nature. A short time later Erik walked towards the house, arm around Kevin.
"Good sail?" Don asked.
"Great. I wish you and Kurt had been with us." Erik replied.
Don choked the retort than sprang to his lips, asking instead, "Drink?"
"Like Kurt's." Erik sat down in one of the deck chairs.
"Come on, Kev. You can get what you want."
As Don mixed the vodka and bitter orange, Kevin took a Coke from the fridge, careful to put the tab from the tin in the trash bin.
Erik set his empty glass down. "Don, would you run me over to the station? I hate to go, but I've got the mid and I need to get some sleep."
When Don stopped in front of the station, Kevin started to climb out of the Peep with Erik, but Erik's hand detained him. "You can't come in tonight. Go back with Don and I'll see you later. Don, I'm depending on you."
As the station door closed behind Erik, Kevin seemed to shrink into near invisibility. For the rest of the evening he sat staring at the floor. Kurt and Don tried to include him in their conversation, but not even direct address brought the faintest response.
Don touched his arm. "Time for bed, Kev."
Mechanically, Kevin removed his clothing and laid it across a chair. Don found the bath as orderly as he'd left it that morning. A few minutes after he'd turned out the lights, he heard sniffles from the other bed. He switched on the reading lamp above his bed to see Kevin curled into a ball, tears trickling down his face.
"What's the matter?"
"Why didn't Erik come?"
"He's in the Coast Guard. He has to stay at the station when he's on duty. He'll be back."
Kevin looked at Don. "I ... I wish I had what you've got."
"I don't have anything."
"All this." Kevin waved his hand around.
"It's not mine; it's Kurt's. I just work here." Don said, suddenly uncomfortable. "Go to sleep."
The next two days, Kevin followed Don constantly, occasionally helping Don with household tasks, though never speaking. Kurt himself was unable to evoke the slightest response, even though he suggested that the boy might practice at the organ or take a swim. Kevin seemed to react only to Don's pointed commands. The word zombie crossed Kurt's mind to be dismissed as fantasy, but watching Kevin become even less communicative and respond with single words only to Don, Kurt checked the medication in his bathroom cabinet. He called Don into his bedroom after Kevin had gone upstairs that evening. "Have you noticed Kev taking any kind of drugs?"
"I haven't seen him take anything and I guess I would have because he's always where I am. Besides, where'd he get them? He sure didn't have any when he came."
"He hasn't bothered any of my prescriptions, but he acts like some of the guys I saw when I was in the hospital. Keep a close eye on him."
Don had found that he was unable to leave the boy with even the simplest task, for if he left to do something else Kevin wandered about, seemingly frantic until he stood next to him. Other than his apparent fear of being alone and now a virtual lack of speech, Don could find nothing to fault in his behavior. Kevin most often sat on the floor staring blankly into space while Don painted. Only when Erik came in the evening did he show animation, appear near normal.
The intercom buzzer interrupted Don's painting Thursday evening. "Yes?"
"Derek Gray. Is Kurt in?"
The trooper was dressed in slacks and a sport shirt. Don led him into the library where Kurt was reading the paper. Gray's voice was so low that Don was unaware of his conversation with Kurt until Kurt called, "Don, would you and Kev fix some coffee for us."
"Coming up." Don took his time with the coffee maker, understanding Kurt wanted Kev out of the room.
"Who?"
Don started at Kev's words. "Friend of Kurt's."
"Do?"
Don frowned until he decided that Kevin referred to the trooper's occupation. Remembering his reluctance to be seen by a policeman on the trip, Don qualified his answer. "Don't know. Don't know him that well."
When they carried the tray in, Don deliberately served Kurt so that Kevin was forced to pass the cream to the trooper. He saw that as the patrolman looked at him closely, Kevin became agitated.
"Come on, Kev, let's go down to the beach. I want to check the boat."
That night, Kurt remained awake a good while, pondering what Gray had told him after the boys had gone down to the beach. The officer was certain that Kevin was a runaway.
"Admittedly, we don't usually bother a lot about runaway kids if they're not causing any trouble, but this one, if he's the one, ran away from a school in Pennsylvania for kids with emotional problems. Since I've had a look at him I'm sure he fits the description and the first name matches also. I could take him in, but we've got nowhere to put a kid like that except the jail. The bulletin said that confinement could make his condition worse and I'd hate like hell to cause the kid any more problems than he's already got. If you don't mind keeping him until I can contact his guardians it would make it a lot easier for everybody. For god's sake, don't tell him I'm a cop or he'll take off for sure."
With Erik on duty, Kurt drove to the station to talk with him early the next morning. Though Don was curious, he told him nothing more than that it was important.
When Erik did not appear at the house that evening, Kevin paced the floor, breaking his pacing often to return to window looking out in the direction of the station. His agitation caused Kurt to suggest they go to bed earlier than usual.
When Erik came in the Saturday morning, Kevin jumped up and joyously ran to meet him.
"Miss me, Kev?"
He nodded vigorously and pulled Erik toward the organ. Time after time, Kev would point to the music and listen closely as Erik explained his interpretation. Erik's attention to the boy was even more rapt than it had been the weekend before. Kevin would not leave his side.
While Don was helping him prepare lunch, Kurt said, "You'll understand all this on Monday. Be kind to him."
That evening the chief found Kurt in the kitchen. "I need a drink."
"You're just in time. Help yourself. Soon as I get this roast back in the oven I'll join you."
"Where's Erik? I thought he come over here."
"He's on a walk with Kev and Don." He pointed through the window and chuckled. "Have you ever known Erik to miss a meal? There they come."
"Where'd you find that one?"
"I didn't. Don found him."
The chief shook his head. "I swear this place is a-turnin' into a pound fer people 'stead of dogs. If you don't stop taking in every stray that comes along, you're gonna git hurt bad one o' these days, I'm a-feared."
"What would you do, chief? I mean Erik was under your command, so I had no worries there. And I thought Don would be temporary, but there was something about him I couldn't resist. The poor kid ..."
"You had some choice on this one, didn't you?"
"Not really, chief. He was lost, hurt, and passed out near the gate. Don found him when he was coming in from a movie. Apparently Kevin was hitchhiking and got a bad ride. They took what little the kid had and threw him out. We couldn't just abandon him."
"I guess under the circumstances I might of done the same. But like I said, if you keep this up one of these days you're gonna git hurt. I know you're a lot like Paul was, always wanting to help someone, but it was different back then."
"I know times are changing, Chief. Derek Gray has found his family and they'll be here Monday to pick him up. The boy has some mental problems. Because of that, he has formed a strong attachment to Erik.
The chief shook his head. "Erik's big enough to handle him, I guess. He ain't violent is he?"
"No, he's suffering from acute depression. For that reason we're trying not to upset him in any way. Please don't ask him any questions."
"Iffin you say so."
At the sight of the chief, Kevin started to back away, but Erik held his arm and introduced him. "This is the chief, Kev. He's my commanding officer at the station. He's also a good friend to all of us."
Kev reluctantly shook the chief's hand, then looked at Erik. "He let me see where you work?"
"You come to the station when Erik comes back Sunday night and he came show you around." The chief said softly.
When they drove him back to the station Sunday night, Erik showed Kevin over the station, Don surprised at Erik's solemn face, subdued nature. Short of picking the boy up physically, it took all the power of persuasion Erik could muster to get Kevin back into Don's Peep for the return to the house. As they drove away from the station, Don felt the boy press against him.
At noon the next day they returned to the station to pick up Erik. Kevin jumped from the Peep and ran to him, pulling at his sleeve. For one of the few times that Don could remember, Erik was dressed in his summer whites instead of denims.
"Okay, okay, I'm coming." Erik said in response to the tugging. His sad expression a sharp contrast to Kevin's delight.
"How'd you get free on a Monday?" Don asked when Erik got in beside him.
"No special reason. I decided to take a half day and help Kev with his music." Erik's expression forbade further question.
Once they had finished lunch and Erik and Kevin sat absorbed at the organ, Kurt motioned Don into the hall. "Get that old AWOL bag of Erik's and pack Kev's things."
"He's leaving?"
Kurt nodded. "This afternoon. When you've packed, put it in my room and don't let Kev see you, whatever you do."
"What's going on?"
"Gray is bringing his folks for him. We'll know about it when they arrive."
A middle-aged couple accompanied the trooper. As he came out of Kurt's room, Don saw the anxious looks they were giving Kurt who was talking to them quietly under the cover of the organ's sounds. He finally turned to Don. "This is Doctor and Mrs. Hauser, Kev's uncle and aunt."
"Stay near the door, if you will, just in case Kevin becomes distraught and tries to run." Doctor Hauser asked as he shook Don's hand.
While the others entered the library, Don lounged against the door facing.
"Kevin?" His aunt called.
He jerked around on the organ bench then jumped off and ran to her, arms outstretched.
"We've come to take you home, dear." She said quietly, holding him to her. When he saw the trooper's uniform, he slipped from his aunt's grasp and, dodging Gray, dashed for the door. Don's tackle brought him down. Gray and the doctor subdued Kevin and lifted him off Don. The trooper held Kevin tightly as the doctor filled a hypodermic. As the sedative began to take effect, Kevin's frantic exertions eased.
Don could stand it no longer. Feeling that he had somehow betrayed the boy, he put his arms around Kevin as the boy lay his head on Don's shoulder, tears streaming. "Go ... go back?"
"No, Kev. You're coming home with us." His uncle replied.
"Home?" There was disbelief.
"Yes, son. This time it's for good."
"I'm a bit confused by all of this," said Kurt.
"As am I," Gray said. "Why is he so afraid of cops?"
"Kev was extraordinarily close to his father. When he and my sister were killed in an accident two years ago, Kev was unable to accept the loss, so he went into withdrawal. He fears the police because it was they who told him of his parents' deaths, very directly, unfortunately. Mrs. Hauser and I took him into our home where I tried to treat him, but his needs are greater than what training I've had in psychiatry permits me to understand. We placed him in an institution specializing in such cases, but they have apparently made very little progress. This is the second time he's run away."
"He seems to respond well to Erik and, to a lesser degree, to Don if Erik's not present. Why would that be?" Kurt asked.
"Mr. Lindstrom bears a remarkable resemblance to Kevin's father. In Kev's condition, Mr. Lindstrom has become his father in his mind, not withstanding the difference in names and age. In his absence, Kev would turn to someone his own age. Has there been any reticence in speech?"
"He says nothing unless Erik is present and then mostly single words. He responds to Don only if Don is somewhat sharp with him. It's been completely impossible for me to reach him."
"I feared as much. He's on the verge of becoming catatonic."
"What happens now?" Asked Don.
"Kevin is coming home with us. There's a new specialist in town who I pray can make progress with him. Obviously, the school was ineffective. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience to which you've all been put, but I can never repay you for what you have done in providing an atmosphere in which he has received the affection and especially the attention he needs so desperately, otherwise he would be completely incommunicative by now. Mrs. Hauser and I were frantic when the school notified us that he had run away again."
"Oh my, yes. We'll never forget your kindness." She added.
"I'm happy that we were able to help him." Kurt said.
"We must be leaving if we're to make the plane. Mrs. Hauser and I thank you all once again for what you've done for Kevin."
Don carried Kevin's bag to the trooper's vehicle. Once he became aware that Erik was not to go with them, Kevin clung to his hand. "Erik, come?"
Erik hugged him. "I'm sorry, Kev, I've got my work here. Go home with your aunt and uncle and get well, then come back to visit us and we'll work on our music." Erik pushed him toward his aunt.
As the three of them watched the Scout disappear down the drive, anguish covered Erik's face. "It looks like I did it again."
"What?" Asked Kurt.
"Screwed up. I tried to help somebody and it went all wrong."
"This turned out as well as it could have under the circumstances."
"No, it didn't! I tried to help Kev and I hurt Don." He put his hands on Don’s shoulders and looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to hurt you by leaving you out. It's just ... well, I ... I felt sorry for Kev. He seemed to need me so much and you're so independent I ... I guess I didn't think."
"I'm sorry, too. For yelling at him, I mean. If I'd known ..."
"There was no way we could have known. Let's go in." Kurt suggested quietly.
"I've got to get back. Run me over, will you, Don?"
Much of his hurt had vanished by the time he went to bed, but even Coastie, curled up on his pillow, did not fill the quiet room for Don.
To be continued...
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Posted: 08/15/08