GoldenEars

by Jane H Wood

  ‘Oh, my poor boy! What’s happening to him, Sam?’ she croaked.

  It was a question he couldn’t answer. They were both in the same nightmare, powerless to break free. He tried to smile, feign some confidence, but his mouth felt like wax.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he whispered, feeling inadequate and useless.

  An agonising hour went by, then two. Finally the doctor returned.

  ‘Please follow me. I’ll explain our findings in my office.’

  Once they were seated the doctor began.

  ‘I’m pleased to inform you that your son’s heart is strong and healthy; also, the ECG readouts were normal. So, that leaves me baffled as to why he felt such pain, although I suspect the trauma of the gunshot wound he sustained in his chest contributed to a large extent. So, left with that information, we are confident that he should recover fully with no unforeseen problems. We have moved him into intensive care so we can monitor him, just for twenty-four hours or so, until I’m completely satisfied that nothing else is going on and I’m sure he’s on the mend. He’s sleeping peacefully right now, but I stress that his recovery will take time.’

  The intensive care room was as expected: small and clinical. A machine stood monitoring Edmund’s condition and administering drugs through a needle inserted into the back of his hand. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth, but overall he looked comfortable.

  He was asleep, an induced sleep where he was free. He dreamt of GoldenEars, of the days playing in the forest close to their cabin, feeling his soft fur against his fingers, while the pup’s bright gentle eyes watched him. Both happy together.

  His parents were unaware of his blissful state, his mind free to gambol with his pup. All they knew was that he was lying in front of them, pale and weak and vulnerable.

  Bert was loath to leave his friends but felt it was time he returned home to Marion. After all, only family were allowed in the intensive care room. However, before he left, Sam urged him to step inside the room. He dithered in the doorway and glimpsed Edmund lying there amid the starched white sheets, his body still. It was a heart-wrenching scene, and it saddened him to think how events had culminated in this moment.

  After a couple of days of quiet bed rest and careful monitoring by the dedicated nursing staff, Edmund’s health gradually improved. The doctors were pleased with his progress and decided that he should return to a private room.

  Over the following weeks Sam and Doreen took it in turns to be with him, and Doreen on this occasion had gone home for a break.

  Father and son were quiet for a time, each pondering the last few weeks. Although Edmund still looked pale, there were signs of his health returning, for his cheeks held the faintest tinge of pinkness. He was lost in thought, staring unfocused at the ceiling, thinking about GoldenEars and the other pup with the injured leg.

  ‘Dad, what happened to the pups?’

  ‘I don’t know. Still at the reserve I expect. Why?’ he asked, stiffening at the thought of the rangers.

  Edmund swallowed; he felt foolish and emotional.

  Sam could see the strain on his son’s face. He’d been through a lot, and perhaps the events of the past few weeks were finally catching up with him.

  ‘Will I ever see GoldenEars again?’ Edmund asked, unable to quell the misery inside.

  Before Sam could answer, there was a gentle tap on the door, and he turned to see who was there. It was Bert with his wife Marion. They stood in the open doorway, hesitating, reluctant to intrude.

  ‘Oh, please come in! Well, here’s my boy, finally on the mend,’ said Sam, happily ushering them towards a couple of chairs set close to Edmund’s bedside.

  Marion moved quickly to Edmund’s side and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  ‘How are you, my dear? I’ve been so worried. We both have, haven’t we, Bert?’ she said kindly, sitting down.

  Bert took the chair beside her.

  ‘Yes, we certainly have. You gave us all quite a scare, I can tell you. Though you look a lot better than the last time I saw you… How are you feeling?’

  ‘I’m okay, just feel a bit weak,’ Edmund answered flatly, pushing his head back into the soft pillows.

  On their approach to Edmund’s room, Bert had inadvertently overheard part of their conversation concerning the wolves. And now he could see that the loss of the pup was affecting him deeply.

  ‘If you’d like a break, Sam, Marion and I will keep Edmund company.’

  Sam nodded and rubbed his eyes; he felt drained, and the thought of a mug of coffee was appealing.

  ‘Yeah, thanks. I do feel beat. Perhaps a break would do me good. I won’t be long, son.’

  Edmund watched him leave without commenting. His dad really didn’t understand him or know why he placed such importance on having a wolf as a friend. The concept was beyond him. His mother had become too clingy; she wouldn’t entertain the idea of him ever going back into the forest. She wouldn’t even discuss it.

  So, he’d lain there in hospital, stewing, wanting to talk about it, but no one was willing to listen. Even though his injuries were healing, he still hurt inside. The doctors had examined him again. Everything was okay, there was no plausible explanation, so he’d stopped complaining. The room was quiet, and gradually Edmund let his eyes droop as tiredness crept over him.

  Bert was quietly watching Edmund; although the boy was mending physically, his demeanour portrayed someone suffering from depression.

  ‘Have you heard how your GoldenEars is?’ he asked.

  Edmund’s eyes sprang open.

  ‘No! I would like to know. I miss him so much it hurts… but Dad thinks I should forget about him. But I can’t!’

  Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. But he was past caring and let them spill down his cheeks unchecked.

  Marion glanced at Bert, understanding registering in her eyes. She reached for Edmund’s hand, patting it fondly.

  ‘Maybe we could telephone the reserve, find out how the little fella is?’

  ‘Oh, can we? That would be great. Can we do it now, please?’ he begged, looking from one face to the other.

  ‘Let me speak to your dad, and we’ll see,’ answered Bert, rising from his chair.

  He found Sam sitting in the corner of the hospital canteen and, judging by the empty mug in front of him, he was on his second coffee already. Bert hurried across to him and sat down.

  It was a touchy subject; Edmund was his son, and as he and Marion didn’t have any children of their own… Well, Sam could take it the wrong way.

  They talked for a while, discussing all the dreadful things that had happened over the past weeks. Then Bert skilfully steered the conversation onto Edmund’s recovery, seamlessly changing the topic to the wolves.

  ‘Those ears on that pup were fascinating, don’t you think?’ he asked casually. Sam looked up from stirring his coffee and frowned.

  ‘Yeah. Certainly unusual. And it worries me that Edmund is so wrapped up with it. I’ve tried to get his mind off the pup. Told him quite bluntly he needs to concentrate on getting better, focus on that only. But he’s stubborn, resisting everything I say. I’m so frustrated. I just don’t know what to say to him anymore.’

  ‘Yes, I can imagine it’s hard,’ answered Bert, nodding slowly, wondering how to proceed.

  A long moment passed as both men slipped into quiet reflection. Bert shifted his weight in his chair and cleared his throat.

  ‘I spoke to young Edmund a few minutes ago and, well, he does seem preoccupied, and emotional too. It appears he’s formed a great attachment to the pup. Perhaps if you telephone the wildlife reserve and speak to Max, find out what’s happened to him, maybe it would alleviate his fears.’

  Sam let out a sigh. ‘Hmm, perhaps you’re right. Edmund does seem a bit down not knowing what’s become of that pup.’

/>   ‘So, why not?’ interrupted Bert quickly. ‘Let’s telephone the reserve. What harm can it do?’ he urged, watching his friend wrestle with the idea of speaking to the rangers again.

  ‘Well, perhaps I could call them; it might help,’ grumbled Sam, feeling tense and cornered by his friend’s insistence. He didn’t want to contact the rangers, but if it helped Edmund’s recovery then he would concede his principles on the matter.

  He scanned the canteen, wondering where the public telephones were, and was surprised to find the room had grown busier, with people clamouring for their morning refreshments.

  Sam stood up and inhaled deeply, determined to do this, and strode out of the canteen, remembering the telephones were somewhere in the corridor. Spotting them, he delved into his trouser pocket, searching for a few coins, as he arrived beside them.

  Bert was hurrying a pace or two behind him, eager to help. He picked up a telephone directory resting on the shelf and began searching through the pages for the number of the wildlife reserve.

  ‘Ah, here they are,’ he said, showing Sam the page with their number displayed at the bottom of an advert.

  Sam dialled the number and waited. A few seconds went by, then a male voice answered.

  ‘Hello, Huxforest Wildlife Reserve, Max Johnson speaking.’

  There was silence as Max waited for someone to speak. Sam had a sudden urge to swear at the man as his temper flared on hearing his voice. Bert nodded, encouraging him to answer. Sam took a deep breath, trying to control his feelings. Max’s men were responsible for his son’s condition and he nearly died because of their incompetence. He exhaled slowly.

  ‘Hello Mr Johnson. This is Sam Rainer…’

  Before he could utter another word Max interrupted him.

  ‘Oh, Mr Rainer! How is Edmund? We have all been thinking about him, and you know how sorry we all are.’

  ‘Ed has been very ill and we thought we were going to lose him. He suffered some kind of heart attack not long after they operated…’ Sam’s voice broke with emotion, and he hesitated.

  ‘Oh my God!’ gasped Max. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that! A heart attack?! But why… how?’ Max was beside himself with shock. ‘Is, is he all right?’

  Seconds ticked by. Sam stiffened, feeling like hanging up the phone; the depth of animosity he felt towards this man was something he’d never experienced before.

  ‘Well, no, he’s not all right!’ retorted Sam angrily. ‘Although initially the operations went well, he’s had other problems, but he is recovering. But it will take a long time, so we understand,’ replied Sam, his voice full of bitterness.

  Max couldn’t have felt any worse, but he went on to explain that action against his men was underway. Sam listened, but he didn’t really care what happened to the men, he only knew that his son had almost died. A small part of it was Edmund’s fault, he knew that too. If the boy had kept his head down then none of this would have happened.

  ‘Listen, Max,’ interrupted Sam, ‘Edmund is finding it very hard to be parted from that pup. He holds some sort of affection for it; strange, I know, but something happened to him in the forest and he’s not been the same since.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Max paused. ‘Well, the smaller pup was all right, but the other one had a severe wound to its hindquarters and we had to operate. The hip joint was damaged, probably by a wolf bite, which resulted in the leg joint slipping. A painful condition, so we’ve implanted a metal pin through the bones to hold it in place. It should work quite well; only time will tell… Look, Sam…’ Max hesitated before continuing. ‘If Edmund’s up to it later, he would be welcome to come and visit. As I said, the small pup with the golden hairs is physically okay but I’m afraid that might not continue.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Sam, frowning.

  ‘Well, this might sound stupid, but I think a strong affection was formed between your son and this little pup, because he stopped eating about three weeks ago for no apparent reason. He was quite ill for a time, whimpering and lethargic; our vet checked him over but couldn’t find a reason to explain his condition. Anyway, gradually he began eating, just small amounts, though much less than the other pup. If I didn’t know any better I would say it’s pining for your boy.’

  He knew it was a big ask to go there after all that had happened, but hearing about Edmund and how worried he was… Well, it might benefit them both.

  Sam was thinking it over and, after a brief hesitation, answered.

  ‘I’ll mention it to him later, when he’s stronger. The doctors will be along shortly on their daily rounds. I’ll ask their opinion.’

  ‘Okay, but don’t leave it too long. We look forward to seeing you, and once again we are so pleased Edmund is doing well. Goodbye, sir.’

  I bet you are, thought Sam, or you’d be facing a murder charge. He said goodbye and hung up the phone.

  ‘Well?’ enquired Bert. The conversation sounded intriguing and he was interested to know the outcome.

  ‘Well, not surprisingly they feel guilty, and now, after I’ve spoken to them, relieved I suppose,’ said Sam, reflecting on what Max had said.

  ‘Not just the accident. What else did he say about the pup?’

  ‘Oh, the pup with the golden hairs is okay, although it’s not eating as much as it should, and Max fears it might suffer if Edmund doesn’t go see it. Cheek, really, after what they have put my boy through. And the other pup, well, it’s had a metal pin put through its leg to hold it in the hip socket or something. I don’t know exactly; it sounds a lot of fuss for just a wolf pup if you ask me!’

  Two more days went by; Sam had already spoken to the doctors and discussed the possibility of Edmund visiting the reserve. The idea wasn’t frowned upon as he expected, but in fact encouraged. The boy’s wounds were healing well, and physically his recovery was nothing short of a miracle, but he needed to get stronger.

  The nurses conspired to tempt his appetite, bringing him the biggest and naughtiest looking plates of food. It varied from burgers and French fries, to cream cakes covered in chocolate, and all kinds of pastries and flavoured ice creams. Edmund was grateful and did his best to comply but never quite managed to finish anything.

  He tried another futile attempt, unable to stop the tears welling up in his eyes as he spoke. ‘Can I see him?’ he pleaded.

  Sam was in denial, hoping he would forget them, but his heart was melting, watching his son so distraught.

  Another day had begun, and the two men were sitting at the same table in the corner of the hospital canteen.

  ‘You know, Bert,’ said Sam suddenly, ‘Edmund needs to see that pup, and if it will help him to recover then who am I to stop him?’ he finished earnestly.

  Bert nodded and smiled at his friend. ‘Great! May I come with you?’

  ‘I’d like that, Bert, but only if Marion is fine with me taking you away from her. Look, I’m going to see if I can organise this,’ said Sam, rising to leave the table.

  Bert watched Sam stride with purpose towards the telephones fixed on the wall in the corridor and, without hesitating, pick up the receiver and dial the number.

  Edmund leaned back against his pillows, gazing through the window. He could see the sky and make out the tops of a few tall trees in the car park below. It was a dull overcast day, and already in the second week of September. Normally the fall inspired him, with leaves turning to beautiful shades of red, copper and yellow.

  But his mind was on GoldenEars and the other injured pup who could hardly walk. Tears rolled down his cheeks; he couldn’t stop them so instead let them slide onto his pillow. He was too depressed to care what people thought of him anymore. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, then a figure entered his room.

  ‘Good news, son! I’ve confirmed it with the doctors and the rangers. You, my boy, are going on a helicopter ride to see your GoldenEars, and myself and B
ert are coming with you!’ said his Dad, beaming at his son’s shocked, then suddenly ecstatic, face.

  Edmund sat up, his injuries forgotten.

  ‘Oh, Dad, are we really going to see him? Now… today?’ he stuttered, disbelieving what he’d just heard.

  ‘Yes, it’s all organised. We’ve been invited to stay at the wildlife reserve for a couple of nights. It’s a bit of a journey, so I understand, some distance north of here. But you must take it easy – doctor’s orders,’ replied Sam. He couldn’t stop smiling; seeing his son’s delight lifted his heart.

  ‘What about Mom, is she coming?’ asked Edmund, his cheeks flushed with excitement.

  ‘No, she wanted to but I’m afraid work commitments interfere with that for now. Anyway, first the doctor will examine you again. I believe everything is mending well. Then an early lunch and we can go. The helicopter will be landing close by so you haven’t got far to go,’ finished Sam, unable to stop grinning, for his son’s excitement was rubbing off onto him too.

  16

  The afternoon arrived and at last they were on their way, flying northwards over the sweeping hillsides adorned with an endless sea of conifers.

  Edmund pressed his forehead against the window, straining to take in the view beneath them. An occasional glint drew his attention to an area of forest where the trees thinned periodically and sunlight danced on the surface of a river. He tried to follow its course, losing sight of it briefly as it wound its way through the densely growing trees. The scenery was glorious from up here; the distant mountains to the west, pale and indistinct, looked mysterious, shrouded in low cloud.

  Movement directly beneath them had him straining to see a herd of elk darting through the trees, frightened by the sound of their engines.

  ‘Look, Dad!’ he called excitedly, pointing at the fleeing herd. Both men looked down at the ground.

  ‘Yeah, fantastic. The view from up here is breathtakingly beautiful!’ exclaimed Sam, nodding his appreciation at the wonder of it all.