Chapter 13: A New Low

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

“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. “I’ve been in a cell for hours. Oh God, Peter, I feel terrible!”

“How were you arrested?”

“I ... I don’t know.” Her voice sounded muffled. “We were driving to Vegas, and Paul wanted to see a friend 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 started coughing. “Oh, baby, I don’t know what to do!”

His mind raced as he listened to her. “Let me call Scott,” he exclaimed. “He’ll know what to do.”

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

“Mom!” he yelled.

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

“Mom!” he yelled frantically.

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

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

“Jesus! Peter, what’s going on?” Kathy exclaimed beside him, her eyes wide with fear.

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

The phone rang 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. 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. “Her and ... Paul, right? They were headed to Vegas?”

“Yes! They left yesterday morning.”

“Where did she call from?”

“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 make some coffee.”

He didn’t reply as he dressed absently. His mind was struggling to accept what had happened.

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

“From what I gathered, your mother’s paramour got caught in a sting operation and was arrested after buying 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 laundry list of charges, including possession, intent to distribute, and resisting arrest.” There was a chuckle. “He tried to flee the scene, resulting in a brief high-speed pursuit. I’m sorry to say your mother’s recent car has been impounded.”

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

“I’m still unclear on that,” Jeremiah replied. “I understand she was transported to St. Mary’s Regional for evaluation. I don’t know what ails her other than a reported high fever during her brief incarceration.”

“Shit!” Peter paced the kitchen. Kathy took Alan home and hadn’t returned. “I can’t believe this!” he sighed, trying to think.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t paint a brighter picture.”

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

“I’ve canceled my appointments for the week and booked a flight to Reno in a few hours. I’m heading to SeaTac now.”

Peter felt his spirit soar. “Wow! You’re awesome, Jeremiah! Thank you. What can I do from here? Should I call Scott?”

“I’ve already taken the liberty to do so, and he has agreed to represent your mother if needed. I believe he’s already communicating with the powers that be over her case.”

“She said she was asleep in the car when everything happened,” Peter added hopefully.

“Indeed. I’m sure that will be considered.”

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

“Most assuredly.”

“Thank you.”

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

True to his word, Jeremiah returned two days later with his mother. She had been treated for severe dehydration, syncopal episodes, and an acute viral infection at Reno Hospital. After 48 hours, she was discharged as an innocent bystander in the sting and allowed to return home. Due to her illness, they couldn’t book her on a commercial flight. Jeremiah chartered a Cessna 182 that made the flight directly into Auburn Regional Airport in under 2 hours. She needed 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 couldn’t visit her until Wednesday, April 11th, nearly a week after she left on the trip with Paul. Kathy drove him to the hospital and accompanied him to her room, where they found her sleeping fitfully. He was shocked at her transformation. Janet went from mostly healthy to dreadfully sick in less than a week. Her face was thinner, and her eyes were sunken. He blinked back tears as he studied her frail form. There was an IV in her arm with several small clear bags attached. The nurses and caregivers wore gloves, masks, and eye shields whenever they checked on her.

She briefly woke and smiled at him, weakly reaching for his hand. “Hey, Baby,” she whispered. He helped her drink water before she laid her head back, exhausted. He started speaking, but her breathing suggested she had fallen asleep again. He heard Kathy weeping above him and grabbed her hand.

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

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

Peter nodded.

“May we have a word outside?”

He let Kathy push him into the hallway.

“My name is Ken Yamada,” the small man introduced himself. “I’m an immunologist and epidemiologist. I was consulted on your mother’s case.”

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

“She has contracted a severe viral infection that is taxing her immune response. We’re doing everything we can to help bolster her defenses to fight it off.”

“So, this isn’t a cold or flu?”

“It’s more complicated,” 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, gripping Peter’s arm like she was drowning.

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

“Peter?” Kathy cried. “Peter! Do something. Say something, please!”

He blinked, and tears leaked down his cheeks. “Um...” he gasped, trying to breathe. “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 as he placed his hands together. “We may never have that answer, I’m sorry. Speculation and assumptions aren’t the basis of my logical discourse.”

Peter gazed up at him. “But...”

The Asian man sighed, “Given certain facts, we can make educated guesses—”

“What facts, Doctor?” he interrupted.

“When your mother arrived at St. Mary’s Regional in Reno, she tested positive for heroin and PCP, both ingested intravenously—evidenced by recent puncture marks on her arms and bruising ligature patterns above her elbows,” he spoke softly. “It’s suspected that when partners ‘shoot up’ together, they prepare a double dose. One 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’d suggest this was how your mother contracted the virus.”

Fuck! Peter thought back to the syringes he found in her room when he returned home ... was it ... only ten days ago? How could that be possible? “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 boost her immune system, she could fight off this infection and recover.” He tapped his fingers together. “I’ve seen victims succumb to the virus within weeks of contracting it, while others recover quickly as if it were a common cold.”

“But she’ll eventually get AIDS...”

“That is very likely, yes,” Yamada confirmed. “You referenced Freddy Mercury. I’d add that he was diagnosed with the syndrome several years ago.”

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

With little else to discuss, the doctor left them. Peter returned to his mom’s bedside to watch her sleep.

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