Gabe wanted to kick himself. He should have mentioned the guys from Ely from the beginning. Hal needed something to focus on that would happen in the future. It wasn’t clear how much of the situation Hal comprehended, but if he thought Gabe was his only hope, that wasn’t a lot to support his long-term survival.
“Yep, it’s true. The guys from Ely are coming. They’re great. They’ll have you wrapped up on a stretcher on the way to the hospital in no time. There’s this one big burly guy. We call him ‘Bob the Bear.’ He’s almost as tall as a bear and nearly as hairy.” Gabe started to laugh again, and he grinned when Hal’s eyes opened.
Hal spoke again. Gabe saw the strain it caused in Hal’s eyes. “Thirs-ty.”
“Oh, let me get you something.”
Gabe retrieved a small pack of water from his kit. He offered it to Hal with a straw. He was weak, but Gabe felt his heart pound with excitement when Hal took in some of the liquid.
“There, that’s enough for now. We don’t need you to choke.”
The expression on Hal’s face relaxed. He looked like someone ready to sleep. Gabe wanted him to feel comfortable, but he didn’t want Hal to lose consciousness again.
At the moment Hal’s eyes closed, he coughed again. It was a horrible hacking, almost choking, sound. Gabe saw the evidence that Hal coughed up blood earlier, but the new cough was dry. Unfortunately, it was excruciatingly painful, too. Gabe saw the proof of the agony in Hal’s eyes.
Gabe placed a hand on Hal’s chest when the coughing began to subside. “It’s okay. Just a few minutes more. They’ll be here any time, and you’ll get more help.”
Hal tried to speak again. He got the words, “I don’t,” out and nothing else.
Gabe reached up to touch Hal’s hair that was damp with cold sweat. He gently brushed it up and to the side. Resting the back of his hand on Hal’s forehead, Gabe said, “Try to relax but don’t sleep. You must stay awake. I can tell funny stories for hours. Listen to me. I need an audience.”
Hal slowly curled the fingers of his right hand. He might have been merely trying to figure out whether his digits worked, but Gabe took it as a signal to keep talking.
“Seriously, if you went out in a canoe in the wilderness, you’d love having Bob along. He scares the bears away. I told Brandon that he should hire Bob for his Arrowhead Adventurers group paddles. Of course, then Bob couldn’t do what he does best—help people like you. He’s dedicated, and he’s strong as an ox. We need guys like Bob.”
Gabe checked Hal’s vitals again. They were stable but weakening somewhat. After he glanced at his watch, he knew the guys from Ely were due to show up any minute. Gabe returned to gazing into Hal’s open eyes while he told more stories.
“Oh, I guess you don’t know who Brandon is. Elle and I joke around and call him the ‘Blond God.’ He’s tall with this shock of blond hair and deep blue eyes. I’m serious. He draws all the attention everywhere we go. That’s not bad because then Elle and I can do anything we want without anyone noticing us. Oh, and I dated Brandon. Bad mistake. That was a total disaster.”
When he first started working as an EMT, Gabe didn’t say anything to accident victims that would indicate he was gay. He reasoned that any phobia on their part would make a bad situation even worse. Gradually, he changed his mind. He didn’t have anything to hide, and the critical victims were rarely in a position to process any kind of visceral response to life details about the man attempting to rescue them. Perhaps later, when they got back to a normal life, they’d remember the gay man who worked hard to save them. The memory might chip away at any prejudice and phobia.
“Everybody falls in love with Brandon. He looks like a movie star, and he’s sweet and funny when you talk to him. He does canoe tours, and everybody who goes on one with him says he’s great. He’s taken now by Levi, another great friend.”
Glancing to his right, Gabe thought he saw a beam of light pierce the darkness. It was gone too quickly to know for sure. Then he saw it again. He looked up and saw only stars directly above—no signs of planes or helicopters. The light had to be the guys from Ely. Their flashlights could pierce the darkness for a long distance. It meant they were still a few minutes away, but they’d found the plane.
A hint of excited expectation entered Gabe’s voice. He gently rubbed Hal’s cheek. “They’re coming. I can see the light. They’ll be here any minute.”
Gabe’s sense of exhilaration faded almost as quickly as it came. He watched as a resigned expression took over Hal’s face. His eyelids fluttered, and they started to close. The tingling at the base of Gabe’s spine told him that he was losing Hal. He’d seen that look of acceptance in the final minutes too many times.
“No, hold on. They’re almost here. You’ve got to hope. For me. Hope.”
He’d decided against using the poem earlier because he’d thought Hal was going to survive. He responded every time Gabe worked to bring him back to consciousness.
Gabe kept the poem for the worst situations. Unfortunately, it now looked like Hal was slipping away.
Gabe frantically waved a hand toward the woods. “They’re out there only a few minutes away. We’ll get you to the hospital. Don’t give up!”
Desperation crept into Gabe’s voice. He hated it when it happened because he feared the sound would only cause the injured person more distress. Still, it was impossible to stifle all of his emotions in the face of tragedy. The loss of any human life robbed the world of so much potential.
Gabe’s pleas didn’t work for Hal. He was still breathing, but the respiration was slow, shallow, and weaker with each breath. Each time Hal’s chest rose, Gabe feared that it would be the last time. He had to use the poem.
Gabe leaned in close to Hal’s ear. He spoke in a low voice and recited the words that his grandmother taught him as a child.
“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops…”
The last words were always the most difficult. They were the most hopeful, but Gabe’s throat closed, and he felt like he was going to choke. He pinned so much on that final line
To Gabe’s complete surprise, Hal whispered, “At all.”
It was the completion of the first stanza of the poem. Gabe blinked hard. He couldn’t believe what he heard. He had to be dreaming, but three seconds later, Hal’s eyes opened, and a slight smile played on his lips.
A voice suddenly shouted from the edge of the darkness. “Gabe! We made it as quick as we could. This crash is bad. Have you got a man there?”
Bob the Bear’s voice was loud and clear.
Gabe raised his head and saw the rest of the Ely crew only five feet away. Help was there, and Hal was alive. Gabe had done his job. It was time to step out of the way and let the new crew take over.
4
Hal
“Hospitals are warehouses for the helpless and the dying. Avoid them at all costs.”
Hal’s father stated his blunt opinion of medical facilities over breakfast one morning when Hal was nine years old. His mother prompted the comment when she said that she wanted to go to the emergency room for her sore, swollen elbow.
Hal never forgot the words. They echoed in his head when he visited his fatally ill grandmother in the hospital at age 12. Hal’s mother held his hand as he shrunk back from the shriveled older woman lying in a bed, eyes closed and mouth open.
“What’s wrong with you, Hal?”
He rose on his toes and whispered in his mother’s ear. “She’s scary now, Mom.” He’d loved his grandmother more than any other member of his family. What he saw in that hospital bed was only a broken remnant of the proud matriarch he knew.
Now, Hal found himself the helpless patient lying in a hospital bed for the first time in his life. The doctor immobilized both his left leg and left arm in bulky braces. The nurses kept him doped up on painkillers while broken ribs began to heal.
Hal couldn’t keep a firm grip on lucid thoughts. It was like any ideas that entered his mind were little clouds floating in his head, and he was standing on the highest mountain, trying to grab them with fingers that poked right through.
“Hal! Do you remember me? Man, you look twenty times better than you did lying there in the woods. You still look a little rough around the edges, though. I brought chocolate instead of flowers. Hopefully, they’ll let you eat it soon, if not now.”
Hal blinked his eyes. The rugged face with a stubbly beard looked familiar, but at first, he couldn’t place it.
The visitor moved closer and gripped the rail of the hospital bed. “I’m the guy that found you in the crash. Gabe’s the name if you don’t remember. Gabe Peligo. I try to visit everybody from my calls that has a rough time. It’s sort of a Northwoods tradition.”
“A rough time?” thought Hal. It took him at least three times as long to process the meaning of the words as usual. Is “a rough time” what they call a near-death experience now. Fortunately, Hal remembered very little of what happened between the plane hitting the tops of pine trees and waking up in a hospital bed.
Knowing that it was his turn to say something, Hal managed to speak. “Thank you. Is that what I’m supposed to say?” He groaned. Even the slightest movement caused pain in his chest. “Fuck, that hurts.”
Gabe placed a hand on Hal’s upper arm. “Hey, buddy, don’t strain anything on my account. Maybe you’d do better sort of whispering. Then you don’t have to move anything but your lips.”
Gabe leaned in close. Hal caught the scent of cologne. The citrusy, clean smell wasn’t unpleasant, and somehow it fit the face.
Struggling to think of anything else to say, Hal pulled out the words of his campaign manager from a few hours earlier. “If we reopened the mines, there’d probably be a road back there.”
Gabe was right about whispering. It didn’t cause a disturbance that generated pain. Unfortunately, the words elicited a frown in Gabe. He pulled back and rested both hands on the bed rail again.
“Uh, yeah, maybe, but there’s so much other…” Gabe’s voice faded. He shifted his attention to glancing around the hospital room.
“You know, this isn’t such a bad place. The rooms here get more and more like a hotel every day. You’ve got your nice TV on the wall and a view of the woods out the window.”
The last thing Hal wanted to see was the forest. He was running for Congress to represent a district that was probably something like 99% covered in trees, and he didn’t care if he ever saw another tall pine—ever. He wanted to spit words of derision about the woods all over Gabe’s smug face. The painkillers might have let him do it, but Trent, Hal’s campaign manager, interrupted the exchange when he walked back into the room.
Trent wore a perfectly-tailored charcoal suit with a raspberry-colored tie. It caused Hal to see a hazy thought cloud of formal parties back home in New York. That was the old home, the real one. To Hal, his new apartment in Ely didn’t compare. It was going to be a place to sleep for a few months before he moved to Washington.
“How’s my man Hal? Are you flirting with the nurses yet? I saw a hot one out there at the station. She was the brunette with an awesome bod. Maybe she can give you that sponge bath.”
Hal noted a pained expression on Gabe’s face as Trent approached.
Both of Trent’s eyebrows rose. “And who’s this? Is he a friend? He looks like a local. It must be the plaid and flannel.” Trent thrust his hand forward to shake with Gabe.
Hal knew that Trent could be a certified asshole. Three-quarters of the time, he was. During the rest of his hours, Trent was a brilliant strategist. Hal’s father hired the “boy genius of politics” to carry Hal to triumph in the primary and general elections and a seat in the U.S. House of Representatives in January.
Gabe offered his hand to Trent for a brief, unenthusiastic shake. “I’m Gabe Peligo. I was the first EMT on the scene at the crash. I always make it a point to visit again once the dust has settled.”
Trent poked his head close to the monitor by Hal’s bed. “He means, once we knew that you were going to stick around for a while longer instead of haunting us from the great beyond.” He turned his head toward Gabe. “You’re one of those brave, good guys, right?”
Hal grimaced at the treatment Trent gave Gabe. Hal’s head was too fuzzy to understand all of his feelings toward the EMT, but he knew that Gabe possibly saved his life. At the least, he helped make sure Hal found his way to a hospital. And despite not being into guys, Hal had to admit to himself that Gabe was handsome in a rugged way. He had soulful brown eyes. They made it hard for Hal to look away.
Trent started to rattle on again while Hal looked at Gabe. They exchanged smiles.
“So, Hal, buddy, the docs tell me you’ll be in here for a few more days. Then it’s back to the trail. I’m already setting up appearances for a few weeks from now. Voters love a great comeback story. You’ll be a hero for surviving that nasty crash.”
Hal wanted to bring up Hunter. He didn’t survive the crash, and nobody mentioned him.
Gabe broke in. “Speaking of the flight. One of the guys from Ely mentioned that Duluth was the scheduled destination for the plane. If that were true, the pilot flew the wrong way. Duluth is southeast from the airport in Ely, not northwest.”
Trent threw his head back and laughed. “You do understand that small aircraft can change their destination at a moment’s notice. The scheduled landing was listed to keep those rubes surrounding—what’s his name? Help me, Hal. Your opponent’s name. Is it Dick? That’s right. He’s a dick.” Trent’s laughter grew louder.
Hal turned his head. He didn’t want to look away from Gabe, but Trent was just over his shoulder, and Hal didn’t need to see the wicked flames burning in Trent’s eyes.
Trent suddenly pointed at Gabe. “Oh, and you weren’t supposed to hear that. I’m confident you won’t spill any of our beans, though. These are campaign secrets, and you’re a smart guy. You’ll keep your mouth shut.”
Even in his woozy state, Hal knew that Trent was threatening Gabe. It wasn’t the first time. Trent tossed out warnings, both vague and direct, all the time.
Gabe said, “I don’t get into politics.”
“But you do exercise your constitutional privilege and vote. Don’t you?” Trent’s blue eyes flashed.
Gabe’s voice was soft and emotionless in response. “Yes. I do.” He faced Hal again and reached out to place a hand on his bicep. “I think I need to go. It looks like you’ve got some business to conduct here.”
Hal reached across his body with his opposite hand to grab Gabe’s and stop him from leaving. He groaned. The movement caused more pain in his ribcage even though the doctors wrapped his chest tightly.
Gabe offered a sympathetic gaze. “Oh, don’t do that. Those ribs need you to lie still. I cracked a rib once on a ropes course, and it hurt like hell.”
Trent interrupted again. “And old man Johnson was apoplectic when he found out about the crash. He threatened to hold back his big, fat check.”
Hal wanted to say “shut up,” but he worried that he’d blast it in a loud voice, and that would hurt the ribs again.
Gabe’s face was kindly. It was a kind of expression Hal saw far too little in his life. The painkillers were making his thoughts drift again, but he held on long enough to whisper, “Thank you.”
“Aww, was just doing my job, and I love it. How about I come back to check on you one more time? It sounds like you’ll be here at least a couple more days, and I can swing back after work on Wednesday.”
Hal didn’t know what to say. He knew that he was already looking forward to seeing Gabe again. It gave him something other than the campaign trail to consider. He whispered, “Thank you,” again.
Gabe tapped Hal’s shoulder lightly with only his index finger before pulling his hand back. He knew how to avoid causing any additional pain. “You just get yourself well, buddy. Use that rem
ote control here on the table and catch up on TV shows. That’s the perfect thing to do when you’re flat on your back like this.”
Hal watched Gabe turn and leave. When he was out of the room, Trent stepped up to the edge of the bed. “What the hell? He ignored me. He could have said bye. What an ass. Where did he learn manners? In reform school?”
Hal didn’t have the energy to respond. He whispered, “Can you hand me the remote control?”
Trent picked the remote up and offered it to Hal. “So, it looks like the first few public appearances will be in Duluth. I think we need to spend some quality time there. The canoe bunnies up here aren’t going to be our voters anyway.”
Hal found an episode of Friends and turned the volume up. He knew that he’d much rather watch and listen to the show than pay attention to Trent. Many of the jokes would fly right past in his fuzzy state, but he could still hear the laugh track and see the affection in the eyes of the characters.
After about ten minutes with Trent, his comments sounded like annoying static. Hal knew that he couldn’t follow a detailed conversation even if he wanted to.
Hal whispered, “I’ve seen this one at least three times, but it’s still funny.”
“Can you mute that for a sec?” asked Trent. “I want to have Old Man Johnson here to meet you when they wheel you out of the hospital. He said that he’d agree to drive down. I think he was full of snark, though. He said something like, ‘If you can find a driver who can drive.’”
Hal hoped that the one tiny silver lining on the cloud of the crash was the cancellation of his meeting with the crotchety millionaire. He’d heard horror stories about how the old man liked to humiliate young people who came on their knees to beg for cash.
Grudgingly, Hal lowered the volume. Phoebe and Joey both continued to move their mouths, but no sound came out. Hal turned his head. “Okay, yeah, what?”
Crash: Northwoods, Book 2 Page 3