Chapter 7: A New Low

“Mom?” Peter bolted up in bed, startling Kathy beside him. “What the fuck? Are you alright?”

“No baby, I’m not,” Janet replied tearfully. “The police have arrested us!”

“What?” he exclaimed. The older Peter kept him from losing it completely as he tried to make sense of her words. “Where are you? Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know!” she wailed pitifully. “I’ve been in a cell for several hours. Oh God Peter I feel terrible!”

“How did you get arrested?”

“I ... I don’t know.” Her voice sounded muffled and off. “We were driving to Vegas and Paul said he wanted to see a friend of his near ... somewhere, I don’t know. I was asleep when we stopped ... and then ... there were police everywhere...” she began crying into the phone and then started coughing. “Oh, baby I don’t know what to do!”

His mind was in overdrive as he listened to her words. “Alright, let me call Scott,” he exclaimed. “He will know what to do.”

“Please hurry baby,” she gasped. “Oh my God ... I feel so awful...” Her voice faded and the phone crackled as if it struck something.

“Mom!” he yelled.

He could hear strange noises in the background and then, “ ... inmate! Hey! What’s the matter with you?”

“Mom!” he yelled again frantically.

“ ... ah shit! Get medical down to Holding!” a strange female yelled.

“Mom!” Peter screamed into the phone again just before it clicked.

“Jesus! Peter, what’s going on?” Kathy exclaimed beside him. Her eyes were full of fear.

He jumped out of the bed and grabbed his cell phone. “I don’t know. She said they were arrested,” he replied as he dialed a number from memory. “I think she got sick or something.”

The phone rang in his ear three times before Jeremiah picked up. “Hello?”

“Jeremiah! Shit! I meant to call Scott!” he blurted.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Peter! Sorry! I’m using my new cell phone. Look Mom is in trouble! She called me from a Jail somewhere saying they got arrested! I don’t know what to do!”

“Slow down, son,” the CFP replied calmly in his ear. “Her and ... Paul, is it? They were headed to Vegas, weren’t they?”

“Yes! They left yesterday morning.”

“Where did she call from?”

“I ... I don’t ... wait! I accepted a collect call from Washoe County something or other!” he answered. “Where the hell is that?”

“That would be a long way from Vegas,” the man muttered. “They went through Reno. I need to make some calls. Let me get back to you, Peter. I won’t be long.” He hung up and Peter found himself standing naked in his room staring at his phone.

“Here baby,” Kat said, handing him his underwear and shorts. “I’ll go make some coffee.”

He didn’t reply as he went about dressing himself absently. His mind was struggling to come to terms with what had happened.

It was an hour later when Peter’s phone rang and he snatched it from the table. “Hello?”

“From what I have gathered thus far, it would appear that your mother’s paramour got caught up in a sting operation and was arrested after purchasing a kilo of heroin from an undercover federal agent,” Jeremiah said calmly in his best Southern gentleman accent.

“Holy shit!” Peter exclaimed.

“Indeed. They have him for a whole list of charges, including possession, intent to distribute, resisting arrest.” There was a chuckle on the other end. “Apparently, he tried to flee the scene which resulted in a brief high-speed pursuit. I’m sorry to say that the car your mother recently purchased has been impounded.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief. “What about mom? Is she okay?”

“That I am still not clear on,” Jeremiah replied. “I understand that she was transported to St. Mary’s Regional for evaluation. I don’t know what ails her other than it was reported that she had a high fever at some point during her brief incarceration.”

“Shit!” Peter breathed as he paced around the kitchen. Kathy had taken Alan back home and hadn’t returned yet. “Fuck! Shit! Shit!” he sighed as he tried to think.

“I am sorry I could not paint a brighter picture.”

“Yeah,” the boy grunted. “This sucks!”

“I have taken the liberty of canceling my appointments for the rest of the week and booked myself a flight down to Reno in a few hours. I am on my way to SeaTac as we speak.”

Peter felt his spirit’s soar. “Oh wow! You are awesome Jeremiah! Thank you so much. What can I do from here? Should I call Scott?”

“I have already taken the liberty to do so, and he has agreed to represent your mother — should the need arise. I believe he is already in communication with the powers that be over her case.”

“She told me she was asleep in the car when everything went down,” Peter added hopefully.

“Indeed. I am certain that that will be taken into consideration.”

“Will you go and check on my mom first?” he asked.

“Most assuredly.”

“Thank you.”

“I will call you as soon as I learn more,” Jeremiah said calmly. “You try and stay calm. I know these are difficult circumstances. But we have it well in hand and I promise you that I won’t return without your mother.”

True to his word Jeremiah returned two days later with his mom. She had been admitted to the Reno Hospital and treated for severe dehydration, syncopal episodes, and an acute viral infection. After 48 hours of observation, she was discharged. Because she was deemed an innocent bystander in the sting she was not charged and was allowed to return home. However, because of her illness, they couldn’t book her on a commercial flight. Jeremiah instead chartered a flight on a Cessna 182 that made the trip in just under 2 hours. She required assistance to and from the vehicles and — at Peter’s request she was taken directly to the hospital upon arrival, for further treatment and testing.

He wasn’t allowed to visit her until Wednesday the 11^th of April, nearly a week after she had left on her trip with Paul. Kathy drove him to the hospital and accompanied him up to her room where they found her sleeping fitfully. He was shocked at her transformation. In less than a week Janet went from mostly healthy to dreadfully sick. Her face was thinner and her eyes were sunken. He blinked back tears as he studied her frail form. There was an IV going into her arm with several small clear bags attached to it. He noticed that the nurses and caregivers all wore gloves, masks, and eye shields whenever they came in to check on her.

She woke briefly and smiled at him, reaching for his hand weakly. “Hey Baby,” she whispered harshly. He helped her take a drink of her water before she lay her head back exhausted from the effort. He started to speak to her but her even breathing suggested she had fallen asleep again. He heard Kathy weeping above him and he grabbed her hand.

“Excuse me?” a soft male voice asked from the doorway. “Are you her son, Peter?”

They turned to find a small Asian doctor in scrubs and a white coat, holding a mask to his face.

Peter nodded.

“Can we have a word outside?”

He let Kathy push him out into the hallway.

“My name is Ken Yamada,” the small man introduced himself. “I am a doctor of immunology and I was consulted on your mother’s case.”

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked bluntly. “Why is she so sick?”

“I’m afraid she has contracted a severe viral infection that is taxing her body’s immune response to the limit. We are trying everything we can to help bolster her defenses so that she can fight it off.”

“So, this isn’t some cold or flu bug?”

“I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that,” the doctor replied sadly. “I’m sorry to inform you that your mother has tested positive for the HIV strain.”

Chills went down his back as he absorbed the doctor’s words. “Wait ... you mean the AIDS virus? Like Freddy Mercury, AIDS?”

“Oh my God!” Kathy whispered. She gripped Peter’s arm like she was drowning.

Peter sat still, his mind reeling with the news. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Even the older presence was distant and uncomforting. He felt like his chest was getting tighter, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. The whole world was closing in, trying to suffocate him.

“Peter?” Kathy cried in his ear. “Peter do something. Say something, please!”

He blinked and tears leaked out, running down his cheeks. “Um...” he gasped, trying to draw in a breath. “I don’t...” He shuddered and sniffed. “I don’t understand, Doctor,” he tried to wipe his eyes before glancing back at the man in the white coat. “How...?”

Dr. Yamada remained solemn in his poise as he placed his hands together before him. “I am afraid that we may never have that answer, I am sorry. Speculation and assumptions are not something I base any logical discourse from.”

Peter gazed up at him intently. “But...”

The Asian man sighed, “In light of certain facts, we can make educated guesses...”

“What facts, Doctor?” he interrupted.

“When your mother presented to St. Mary’s Regional in Reno, she tested positive for heroin and PCP, both of which were ingested intravenously — as evidenced by the recent puncture marks on her arms and the bruising ligature patterns you can see above her elbows,” he spoke softly as he continued. “It is commonly suspected that when partners ‘shoot up’ together they prepare the drug in a double dose — if you will. One partner injects half the drug and then administers the remainder to the other person with the same syringe, effectively sharing the needle. If I were to guess, I would suggest that this was how your mother contracted the virus.”

‘Fuck!’ Peter thought to himself as he absorbed everything. “So, what can we expect now?” he asked weakly. “Is she just going to fade away and die?”

“Nothing is certain,” the Doctor replied. “If we can bolster her immune system sufficiently, she could very well fight off this infection and recover.” He tapped his fingers together. “I have seen victims succumb to the virus within weeks of contracting it. And I’ve seen patients recover from it quickly as if it were nothing but a common cold.”

“But eventually she will get AIDS...”

“That is very likely yes,” Yamada confirmed. “You referenced Freddy Mercury. I would add that he has been diagnosed with the syndrome for several years now.”

“Yeah, and nobody has seen him since he left Queen,” Kathy muttered.

There was little else to talk about so the doctor left them. Peter returned to his mom’s bedside to watch her sleep for a while.

It took a full week for Janet to show any signs of recovery. By the following Wednesday Peter was happy to find her sitting up in bed, awake and coherent. Her face was still drawn and her eyes sunken, but there was a noticeable improvement that he recognized immediately. Dr. Yamada told him earlier in the week that part of her battle was withdrawing from the addicting effects of the narcotics that she had abused.

He was delighted to see recognition on her face as he wheeled himself into her room. She was eating a cup of Jello under the watchful eyes of her nurse. Her hands were shaky and the metal spoon must have seemed like a dumbbell to her, but she determinedly continued until the snack was finished, before setting the utensil down on the tray.

“Very good, Janet. You are getting stronger by the hour,” the nurse told her warmly before departing.

He took her hand and found it ice cold so he covered it with both of his to warm it.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Peter,” she sighed tiredly. “I have been out of it for so long.”

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“I sort of recall that Jeremiah fellow coming to get me and bringing me home,” she frowned. “Now he is an interesting character!”

‘You have no idea,’ he smiled back at her, keeping his thoughts to himself. “What else?”

“I don’t remember the flight here, only a brief period where I was placed in another ambulance and brought here ... then just bits and pieces.” She gazed at him sorrowfully and tears began running down her face. “Oh baby, I am so sorry for what I have done and put you through.”

He squeezed her hand and handed her a tissue. “It’s okay Mom. We are going to be okay now. Let’s just put all of that behind us, okay?”

“You have been here a lot,” she sniffed.

“Every day,” he replied calmly. “And I will be there for you until you finally get to come home.”

She coughed a weak laugh. “Who would have thought my son would be taking care of me...”

“And I am happy to do so,” he replied with a warm smile. “I love you mom.”

“Oh baby, I love you so much, too,” she sniffed again and looked around. “Where is Katherine?”

“She had to go to school, so she dropped me off on her way. She will be by later.”

“You and her are becoming quite a couple, aren’t you?” she asked wistfully.

He nodded. “I love her, mom. With everything I’ve got.”

His mom nodded sagely, “I can tell. And it would seem that she feels the same.” She studied his face for a moment and smiled once again. “I didn’t really care for her much at first,” she admitted. “I mean not when you were all much younger and it was so innocent back then.” Her eyes appeared distant. “But once she started ... developing, I could tell she fancied you from the start and I just ... she seemed so...”

“Wild?” Peter prompted.

Janet nodded. “Very much so ... wild and carefree.”

“Well, if I were to ask one thing of you, Mom — it would be to get used to her because we are going to be together forever. I can promise that from the bottom of my heart.”

Janet chose not to reply to his declaration. Instead, she studied his face intently. “You have grown,” she observed. “You seem so much older now.”

He didn’t reply. His thoughts turned inward to how differently he viewed things now. Part of it was still youthful excitement while the other half seemed to regard everything with analytical logic. He was still troubled by the feeling that his newer ‘mature’ presence had all but abandoned him the previous week. It was as if he were faced with an obstacle he couldn’t navigate because it was utterly foreign to him.

Janet became tired and apologized as she drifted off to sleep. It took some doing for him to reach over and pull her blanket up before he returned to his wheelchair and looked around the room quietly. There were several vases of flowers that he had delivered from the local florist, as well as a couple of get-well cards from friends and neighbors. Probably most noticeable was the brand-new Methodist Bible that occupied her nightstand, remaining untouched. A card accompanied it from the church wishing her God’s blessings and a speedy recovery. He snorted quietly and then felt guilty for expressing his disdain for a belief system that she had once clung to. ‘Who the hell am I to judge?’ he berated himself.

A pack was slung over the back of his wheelchair, which contained yesterday’s mail, this morning’s Investor’s Business Daily, and the weekly issue of Barron’s. He turned and pushed his way out of her room and turned down the hallway towards the elevators that would take him to the cafeteria. Once he settled at his usual table with his coffee and a bear claw, he began reviewing his stocks and studying the market news. Earlier that morning he checked on his Oracle Calls and adjusted his Stops to capture a total profit of $49,000. He also noted that his 100 MSFT May 23 Calls were now trading post-split and he owned 200 May 11.5 Calls instead, which were well into the money. With nothing but bullish sentiment, he intended to hang on to them until they were close to expiration next month — raising his trailing Stop as needed to continue locking in his profits.

“Well, if it isn’t young Mr. Shipley!” a familiar voice spoke behind him.

He smiled as he looked up to see Dr. Merchant striding over to his table with a cup of coffee. They shook hands and the young resident beamed at him. “Mind if I sit?” he asked.

“Please,” the boy replied moving his stuff to the side to make room.

“So how are you doing, Peter? You’re looking great! I figured you’d be strutting around on new feet by now.”

Peter shrugged. “I was referred to a company in Seattle that specializes in bilateral leg amputees. They looked over all the imaging you did and wanted to wait until I was done growing. Something about growth plates,” he replied dismissively.

“Oh, come on!” the resident chided in disbelief. “There are kids far younger than you walking on prosthetics! Sure, they have to be adjusted as they grow, but that is part of the deal,” he frowned as he lowered his gaze to Peter’s rubber-capped stubs. “You are already ambulating, I see.”

“Oh yeah, I do without the wheelchair mostly when I am at home. I go to physical therapy twice a week and they have me crushing it on the bench press. I can do 100 push-ups without touching my legs to the floor,” he grinned proudly.

“Dang, I can probably do twenty, if nobody was around to catch me cheating,” the doctor laughed. “Let me see if I can make a few calls on your behalf. Are you okay if I do that?” he asked. “It just seems silly to keep waiting for an intangible status, to get started with prosthetics.”

Peter nodded eagerly and produced his cell phone.

Dr. Merchant grinned and pulled a similar one out of his lab coat. “These things are awesome, aren’t they?” He smiled as they exchanged numbers. He stood up and saluted the boy with his cup. “I will call you this afternoon after I call some contacts.” He paused before departing. “How is your mom doing? I heard she was admitted last week?”

Peter grimaced. “She’s better. Still a long way to go but Dr. Yamada thinks she may be ready to come home as early as this weekend. Fingers crossed.”

The resident clapped him on the shoulder warmly. “Good news. Give her my regards. We’ll talk soon,” he said as he stepped away.

Peter returned to his magazine and sipped his coffee as he read through the articles. He was interrupted a while later when his cell phone rang. It was Kat.

“Hey babe, how’s it hanging?” he answered.

“Not good,” she breathed heavily. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he smiled.

“It is when you’re trying to take a Calc quiz,” she lamented. “I was thinking about a new role-play we could do...”

He laughed softly, remembering their earlier days when the three of them stayed up all night playing AD&D. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Well,” she continued with a silky voice. “I would be wearing one of those open-back hospital gowns and you would be my Gynecologist...”

He saved himself from aspirating his coffee and set the cup back on the table with trembling fingers. “Jesus!” he gasped.

“ ... you would help me put my feet up into the stirrups and then sit down on that little round stool so you could scooch up real close to my hot ... wet ... pussy,” she whispered harshly into his ear.

“God, babe ... what the hell?” he whispered back at her. He looked around the cafeteria to see if anyone was looking at him as he subtly placed his open magazine in his lap.

She giggled in his ear. “What’s the matter, baby?” she asked coyly. “Thing’s getting a little uncomfortable in the nethers?”

“Yeah!” he exclaimed under his breath, “you could say that.”

“Aw. I’s sorry,” she mewed. He knew full and well that she wasn’t. “Where are you at? How’s your mom doing?”

Grateful for the change of subject, he sighed. “I’m in the cafeteria. She is sleeping right now but looks a Helluva lot better than yesterday. Dr. Yamada says he might discharge her this weekend.”

“Wow, um...” he could hear the gears turning in her head. “I guess that’s good, right?”

“I hope you don’t think this means you have to stop staying the night,” he replied addressing the unspoken concern.

“Peter, don’t you think that would be just a bit ... I don’t know...”

“I told her how we feel about each other and she knows it’s true, I can see it in her face,” he replied. “You are welcome to stay any time you want for as long as you want.” He paused for a moment. “In fact, we will both need your help until we can resolve our transportation issue.”

“Hmm. Good point. Have you heard anything about the Trans AM?” she asked.

“Jeremiah basically said, ‘Don’t hold your breath.’ It was impounded during a major drug sting and will most likely be confiscated and auctioned off. I’m okay with that. It sucks ass that we lost it but it was never an ideal car for us. Once she gets back on her feet we are going to go out and buy something more practical.”

“My cousin has a 76’ Datsun B210 he’s trying to sell. I think with a little work it would be a good car for you guys. It even has room for the wheelchair and a lot more if you put the rear seats down.”