The Governor's Sons (51 page)

Dr. Banner didn’t respond right away.
 
“The last time I spoke to the doctor in the Negro wing, he said that Mr. Hall was still intubated.”

Ash looked confused.
 
“What’s that mean?”

“A tube’s been inserted down his windpipe.
 
Mr. Hall needs mechanical support to breathe, because at this point, he’s not breathing completely on his own.
 
His mother’s with him, and they’ll be moving him to Intensive Care.”

“So—is he gonna be all right?”

The doctor dropped his eyes for a moment before looking at Ash again.
 
“Governor—I can’t say.
 
Right now—I’m not sure if Mr. Hall will make it or not.”

****

Gavin’s hospital room was white and sterile, and his gown was white and sterile.
 
But his mother’s eyes were red and swollen, and her face, pink and puffy.
 
Gavin couldn’t take the way she was looking at him as he lay in bed.
 
She stood by his side, holding his hand.
 
He knew she was about to start crying—
again
from the looks of things.
 

Yeah, he did look pretty bad, but it’s not like he was gonna die.
 
He’d gotten a good look at himself when the nurse helped him to the bathroom earlier. He was pale with dark circles under his eyes and a few cuts and scrapes on his face and hands.
 
There was also a two inch cut from shrapnel that was stitched up near his hairline. Gavin thought that was pretty cool, kind of like a battle scar, to impress the girls.
 
Of course, Mom didn’t see it that way.
 
She’d just expressed concern about him being maimed for life.
 
But the doctor said that once the cut was healed, the scar would hardly show.

Charlene shook her head sadly.
 
“My poor baby.”

Ash overheard this when he entered the room.
 
“That young man’s hardly a baby.”
 
He walked to the opposite side of the bed and grasped Gavin’s other hand.
 
“And he’s got some real guts about him—fire in the belly.”

Despite the bravado, Gavin saw that his father’s eyes were red, too.

“Son,” Ash said, “you’re gonna be just fine.”

“I know.” Gavin tried to smile, but it hurt a little; everything hurt.
 
He was sore all over.
 
“I was fine when they brought me here.
 
I was just a little tired and banged up.”
 
At this, Charlene began to cry.
 
“C’mon, Mom, stop it.”

“Gavin,” Ash said, “we were worried about you.”
 
Charlene couldn’t control her crying and left Gavin’s side.
 
“You just be patient with her and let her get it all out.
 
 
When we heard about what happened--we thought we’d lost you.” Ash looked toward Charlene while she wept in the corner of the room.

“Did they ever find the driver?”
 
Ash shook his head.
 
“What about Harland, how’s he doing?” Gavin asked.

At the mention of Harland’s name, fresh tears brimmed in Ash’s eyes. “He’s—he’s hangin’ on.”

Gavin felt his heart race.
 
Sometimes near drowning victims survived—and sometimes they didn’t.
 
“Is he gonna be okay?”

Ash hesitated, and then nearly choked on his words. “I—I don’t know yet.”

Gavin’s eyes welled.
 
“Dad—I tried to save him—I really did.
 
I had him, Dad.
 
I’m a strong swimmer—but I lost him--he went under and I couldn’t find him.”

“Gavin—I know how hard you tried.
 
And I’m proud of what you did.
 
I know you got him to the bank.”

A tear rolled from the side of Gavin’s eye.
 
“Dad,” Gavin said quietly, “he told me—he told me the truth.
 
And I’m cool with it.”

Charlene approached.
 
“Cool with what, honey?”

“That they want to keep him overnight,” Ash blurted out.

The room remained quiet for a few seconds before Ash spoke up again.
 
“Charlene,” he said, I’ve got to go over to the Negro wing’s intensive care unit.
 
Betty Jean Hall’s there, and Harland’s pretty bad off.”

“Alright.”
 
Charlene sniffed, and then wiped her eyes and nose.”
  
I’ll go over there, too.
 
But I’ll stay with Gavin until my parents and the girls get here.”
 
Their evening at a dinner theater production an hour away was cut short after they’d received the phone call about the accident.

“Good.”
 
Ash didn’t leave right away.
 
He looked down at Gavin and squeezed his hand. “Son—I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dad.
 
And Dad—if
 
Harland—knows you’re there—I mean—if he can hear you--tell him I said hey.”

Ash nodded.
 
“You got it,” he said hoarsely as he left the room.

****

Ash walked rapidly down the stark white halls of the hospital corridor that smelled of medicinal antiseptic.
 
Some of the nurses in stark white uniforms recognized him and smiled, offering kind words about Gavin’s rescue and recovery.
 
On the outside, Ash wore the brave face of a leader.
 
He smiled, thanking the nurses for their well wishes, and even slowed his pace to exchange a brief bit of chit chat.
 
But on the inside Ash felt like he’d fall apart.
 
But he couldn’t, he had to hold himself together.

He quickly made his way to the Negro wing, where the walls weren’t nearly as white.
 
 
Once at the Intensive Care waiting area for visitors, he looked for Betty Jean.
 
But among the few people seated there, he didn’t see her.
 
Ash approached the desk, prepared for the worst.
 

“What’s the status of Mr. Hall?”

The staff person on duty, a brown skinned lady with a round pleasant face, recognized him.
 
“Why, Governor Kroth.”
 
She smiled.
 
“Good news!
 
Mr. Hall’s gonna be fine!
 
They never brought him here.
 
He started breathing on his own, so they moved him to a room.”

Ash’s knees buckled.
 
“Can I—” the words caught in his throat and he almost broke down.
 
“Can I see him?”

“Certainly, Governor, just let me see what room he’s in.”
 
The woman called the main desk, and then directed Ash to Harland’s room one level below Intensive Care.

When Ash got there, the door was cracked.
 
He knocked lightly, then pushed it open.
 
He saw Harland asleep, with Betty Jean at his bedside holding his hand.
 
A doctor in a white coat was in the process of explaining Harland’s condition, but upon seeing Ash, stopped to greet him.

“Governor Kroth,” the doctor reached to shake his hand, “I’m Dr. Dwight Robinson.”
 
The doctor, very dark and wearing horn rimmed glasses, spoke in a low monotone voice.

“Pleased to meet you, doctor.”

“I was just telling Mrs. Hall—I’m sorry, Governor, have you met Mrs. Hall?”

“I
know
Mrs. Hall.”
 
Ash walked over to give Betty Jean a hug.
 
“Mrs. Hall is a family friend.”

“It’s good to see you, Ash.” Betty Jean’s voice was hoarse and her face tear stained.

“Well, as I was saying,” the doctor continued, “Mrs. Hall’s son is out of the woods, now.”
 
Ash gazed down at Harland while the doctor droned on.
 
He had an array of cuts and scratches similar to Gavin’s, but Ash was just relieved to see him alive.
 
“We were concerned about respiratory damage, but his lungs are fine now.
 
As you can see, he’s breathing on his own, and his last blood test showed no hypoxia.”

Ash looked strangely at the doctor.

“That means a low level of oxygen in the blood,” Betty Jean said.
 
“Dr. Robinson, speak in plain English so Governor Kroth can understand you.”

“Certainly.”
 
Dr. Robinson cleared his throat.
 
“His X-rays did show one cracked rib.
 
He’s got several cuts and bruises, but they’re all minor.
 
We’ll be releasing him tomorrow.
 
But up to twelve hours, or sometimes even more, after submersion, lung problems can arise.
 
Mr. Hall just needs to be agreeable to seeking medical assistance if that should occur.”

“I’ll give him all the medical assistance he needs,” Betty Jean said.
 
“That boy’s coming home with me—at least for a few days.”

The doctor smiled.
 
“You might have a hard time convincing him of that, Mrs. Hall.
 
He told me earlier that he’s ready to fight even harder for our cause, starting first thing in the morning.”
 
Betty Jean shook her head as the doctor focused his attention on Ash.
 
“It’s a miracle your son and Mr. Hall survived what happened today.
 
Mr. Hall is a fighter, just like your son, Governor.”

“He
is
my—” Ash caught himself.
 
“He is a fighter.”

“Governor, all of us Negroes are grateful that this assassination attempt was a failure, not only for Mr. Hall’s sake, but for your son’s sake, as well.”

“I appreciate that, Dr. Robinson,” Ash said.

“I’ll be checking on Mr. Hall tomorrow.” As the doctor started for the door, Ash and Betty Jean thanked him.

Once alone with the Governor beside her, Betty Jean said, “Ash--they tried to kill him.”
 
Tears ran down her cheeks. “I told that boy he shouldn‘t have come here.”

“But he’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah,” Betty Jean said softly.
 
“Praise God—he’s gonna be fine.”

“And he’s doing work that needs to be done.”

“I know.”
 
Betty Jean sighed.
 
“And I guess I can’t stop him.”
 
She lowered her head and began weeping.
 
“Ash—I can’t imagine losing him!
 
I couldn’t love that boy more if I’d given birth to him myself.”

Ash pulled Betty Jean close, and held her in a tight embrace.
 
And as he did, all the tears he’d held in for each of his sons now flowed uncontrollably.
 

Charlene cleared her throat as she emerged from the shadows near the doorway.
 
Upon seeing her, Ash released Betty Jean.

“You must be Mrs. Hall,” Charlene said kindly.

“Yes—I am.”

“I’m Charlene Kroth, the Governor’s wife.”
 
Charlene shook her hand.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kroth.”

“And I was so happy to hear that—your son,” Charlene looked at Ash for a moment, “is going to be just fine.”

“Yes, ma’am, and I’m glad to know your boy’s gonna be fine, too.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hall.”
 
Charlene looked at Harland.
 
“He seems to be sleeping soundly.
 
And I know it warms your heart to see him like this—after all he’s been through today.
 
If there’s anything at all that we can do, Mrs. Hall, please let us know.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kroth.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”
 
Charlene asked.
 
“Our home is open to you.”

“I appreciate that Mrs. Kroth, but I’m staying with my niece.”

“Good.
 
But you’ll let us know if you need anything?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me.
 
It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Hall.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kroth.”

Charlene turned to go, but Ash sensed something robotic in her behavior.
 
“Betty Jean.
 
I’ll be back later.”

“Ash, you go ahead, take care of your family.”

Ash looked at Harland. “He’s my family, too.”

****

Ash could see Charlene several yards ahead.
 
A hospital orderly pushing an empty gurney cut across his path, so Ash had to stop walking for a few moments.
 
This further increased his distance from Charlene.
 
Her spiked heels clicked on the hard tile floor, echoing softly through the hall.
 
She strode to the white wing, then down to the main level and out through a back door.
 
He’d been wrong in assuming she was going back to Gavin’s room.
 
When Ash walked out the back door, he saw Charlene headed toward a stone path.
 
He picked up his pace.
 
When he was close enough for her to hear him he asked where she was going.