This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any real person is just amazing. All characters are eighteen years and older.
*
"What exactly did he mean?" Jessi asked Ryan after Spotted Owl had left. "There is no blood of your great grandfather in me?"
Ryan was trying to control his excitement. "I think he was telling us that you are not related to me and that my father is not your father."
Jessi looked at Ryan, her brow furrowed in thought. She was trying to grasp the enormity of the situation. She looked directly into Ryan's eyes. "Who in hell's name is my biological father then?"
Ryan reached for Jessi's hand and shook his head. "I have no idea. I need to talk to Charlie first. I need to ask him something."
"What do you need to ask him?" Jessi asked.
"I need to ask him if Spotted Owl could be right. I mean, how would he know? I don't want to get all excited over this just to be let down." Ryan tried to control his excitement over the prospect that he and Jessi were not related.
"What about Mom and Dad? Do we tell them?"
"No," Ryan replied. He squeezed Jessi's hand with both of his own. "We need to make sure we are right before we tell them."
Jessi sighed and then leaned over and kissed Ryan on the cheek. "Yeah, you're right. We need to make sure. Can I tell Becky? I have to tell someone."
"Just make sure she keeps it to herself." Ryan smiled and nodded.
There was a knock on the door and the nurse walked in and smiled at Ryan. "Okay, I need to change your dressing." She looked at Jessi. "It might be better if you waited outside."
Jessi nodded and walked outside and waited in the hall. She looked down at the floor. Each of the light-blue linoleum tiles had been identical at one time. Jessi had begun to recognize the differences now in each of them. Little nicks here and there gave each one a look of its own.
She glanced up as the nurse removed her latex gloves and tossed them in the trash. The nurse looked at Jessi. "You can come back in now. The doctor called. He is releasing Mr. McFayden to the IMC unit. As soon as a bed comes open, he will be moved."
Jessi nodded at the nurse as she walked back into the room. "Thanks."
"No problem," the nurse replied. She pointed at Ryan. "He has come a long way in a few short days. Sure surprised me when I came in and saw him tonight."
Jessi stared at the nurse for a moment. "Surprised you? How?"
"I've been off a couple of days. I wasn't expecting to see this much of a change in him. I'm glad. He seems like a nice kid."
"Yeah." Tears began to well up in Jessi's eyes. "For a cowboy, he's alright."
The nurse smiled. She could sense the bond between the young man in the bed and the girl. These were the kind of nights she wished that there were more of in her line of work—tears of happiness instead of tears of sorrow. "Okay then, I'll leave you alone with him. If you need anything, just let me know."
Jessi took the nurse's hand in hers and squeezed it. "Thanks. It seems like it's not enough, but I don't know what else to say except, thanks for everything you have done for him."
The nurse smiled at Jessi and her kind face seemed to glow. "You're welcome. You don't have to say anything else."
She watched as Jessi walked over to Ryan and kissed him on the check. She smiled and walked to the nurse's station and sat down. She looked at the charge nurse who was sitting at the desk writing in a patient's chart. "Penny, do you remember what it was like to be young and in love—really in love?"
The charge nurse looked up, her glasses perched precariously on the end of her nose. "Honey, I've got four kids and a husband. I don't even remember my own damn name half of the time."
---
Norm Campbell hung up the phone. This was the phone call he had been expecting. He looked at the money sitting on the kitchen table. For the first time in his life he felt that he was not in control of his own destiny.
He walked into the bathroom and studied the reflection in the mirror. The man looking back at him had lost something. It was more than the wife and child that he had forfeited due to his gambling habit. It wasn't the job at the mine he had lost due to his inability to get his work done because of his addiction to betting. The man looking back at him in the mirror looked like he had lost his soul.
He had been tempted to call his wife and tell her that he was working again—that the bills were paid, that the house was no longer in foreclosure, that there would be no more phone calls late at night demanding money. Each time he picked up the phone, he would stop. What would he tell her? How would he explain where the money was coming from?
The overpowering urge to bet on sports was only conquered by the fear of Tony somehow finding out and Norm subsequently discovering what a man like Vincenzo was capable of.
Norm turned the faucet on and let the water fill the bathroom sink. He splashed the cold water on his face as if trying to wake from a dream. He sighed when he realized that this was reality and not a dream.
He sat back down at the kitchen table and took a sip of his coffee and looked at the notes he had carefully written down on a notepad. Like most people in his line of work, his notes were exact and precise. He began to plan on what to wear and how to present himself. This meeting was as important as the one he had with Tony a few days past. He had to sell himself to the man he was going to meet later this evening.
With a sigh of resignation Norm picked up his cell phone and dialed the number he had committed to memory after his meeting with Tony and Hank.
A familiar voice answered. "Yes."
"Vincenzo, Norm Campbell here. I have been contacted and the meeting is scheduled for tonight."
"Very good, Mr. Campbell. I will tell Tony that you called," Vincenzo replied. His soft Sicilian accent still gave Norm chills.
---
Ryan sat up in his new bed. He had been moved overnight while he had been sleeping and barely remembered the move. He liked his new room as much as anyone could like a hospital room. The color was different than the room that he had in the ICU, and there was at least a window in this one. Ryan was grateful to see the sun again. It seemed to warm his soul.
He looked up as his aunt and uncle walked into his room. "Good morning."
Aunt Suzanne leaned down and hugged Ryan tightly. "How are you feeling?"
"Good." He pointed to where the electrodes had been attached to his body for telemetry. "At least I'm not wired up anymore."
Bill sat down in the chair on the other side of Ryan's bed and set his hat on the small table. "You're looking better. You've got some color back in your face."
"I'm feeling a lot better," Ryan replied. He pointed at the morning sunlight streaming in the window. "I can tell what time of day it is now. Up in the other room, I could see the clock, but I had no idea if it was day or night."
Bill's tone of voice turned serious. "Do you remember anything at all at about what happened?"
"No, nothing much." Ryan tried hard to remember . "All I know is I heard something and Bernie reared up, and then next thing I remember is waking up in here." Ryan didn't want to mention the dreams he had to his uncle yet. More important than the dreams themselves was the visit from Spotted Owl. Ryan wanted to talk to Charlie first. "Where's Charlie?"
