Theo raised his brow at this idea. “Now Margo, you know you’re going to have to take it easy. Maybe I should be asking for Danny’s help to keep you from racing around the house in your wheelchair.” He chuckled good-naturedly, gently touching Margo’s shoulder.
Danny looked thoughtfully at Margo and watched her warm brown eyes for a moment. Margo knew he was sizing her up, so she stayed still and let him make up his mind about her. Her soft bob cut had grown out considerably. Today was a rare moment when her hair was let loose and hanging at her shoulders. Her usually slim, athletic figure looked skinnier. Dark circles under her eyes caught the attention of Dr. Andrews, and she wasn’t trying to hide how afraid she was for her other children. Margo let herself be observed by the old-soul blue eyes belonging to her toddler.
Danny sighed heavily, obviously having decided. He turned back to Alik and pressed a baby-wet kiss to his brother’s cheek before pushing off his lap and walking assuredly to Margo. From the front pocket of his blue overalls he pulled out the jet he’d been given after his first flight ever. The paint was already starting to look a little worn and chipped from so much play. Danny held it up to his eyes as though imagining it to be huge and real in his hand then made it “fly” toward Margo’s lap where it landed safely. Danny smiled up at Margo like she’d done a good job being the airport runway.
“You’re an excellent pilot, Danny,” Margo giggled at his innocent game, reminding her of Alik at this age.
“Do you have other toys?” Margo asked. “I’ve been at the hospital since you came to live with us, so I haven’t even gotten to see your room. Would you show me?”
Margo knew the family had given up the home office to turn it into Danny’s bedroom.
Danny nodded happily and held out his hand for Margo to come see.
Margo chewed her lip a little, “Do you think you could help push me from behind, Danny? I can’t get up and walk with you, so you’ll have to be patient and maybe help me wheel around?”
Margo’s eyes looked earnestly at the little boy who quickly nodded his curly head, leaving his jet on Margo’s runway/lap.
Danny shuffled around Margo’s wheelchair and leveraged his little body against outstretched arms to push. He couldn’t see over Margo’s head, so he kept looking around her sides to make sure he was pushing her toward his new room. Margo was smiling widely as she helped roll her wheels. “You’re such a great help, Danny!” She was saying. “I really appreciate you. Oh, but wait a moment, please?”
Danny stopped pushing. Margo turned her wheelchair just enough to lock eyes with Alik. She reached her hand out, beckoning him. Three long strides and Alik was at his mother’s side, kneeling so he was looking at her eye-to-eye.
“I love you, Alik. You too, sweet Farrow,” Margo said with a smile at the strong-willed girl who reminded her of herself in her fiery determination. “Be careful and go with God. We’ll be waiting for your safe return.”
Alik knew his mother wanted to say so much more, but was holding back so as not to scare Danny.
“I will find them and bring them home. I will have my family back together.” The look in Alik’s indigo eyes was fierce.
“Remember your training, but above all, remember to pray for guidance and strength.”
Margo held her son’s hands and whispered, “Dear God, You’ve made these children to do Your will. Guide them, and give them the strength they’ll need to overcome our enemies. Let Your will be done, now and always. Amen.”
The room murmured “amen” in response. Alik leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek, as he had done since he was a child. He only lingered for a moment before turning back to Danny. “Okay, little man. Be sure and show her your cool racecar track we put together last night.” He winked at the excited look that brought out in Danny’s eyes and turned away. His mind was already on the task in front of him. Vaguely, he heard his mother’s playful voice say, “Okay Danny. On the count of three you push and I’ll roll. We’ve got a racetrack to go see!”
Chapter 42 Cell #6—Cole
Cole thought he opened his eyes, but there was no way this wasn’t a wicked, although annoying realistic, dream. He sat up gingerly, feeling like his recovery from the car accident had regressed to the way he felt the day after his skull bulleted through a windshield and introduced itself to asphalt.
Nah, this has to be a drug induced dream, he rationalized.
I mean, how the hell would I have gotten into a freakin’ medieval dungeon? I didn’t piss off any kings that I know of, he thought, rubbing his head.
Did I?
Nah.
This has got to be a bad dream.
“Hey!” Cole yelled.
“Hey! Is anyone there? I’d really like to wake the heck up, please!” Cole started patting his face with his open palms, trying to force himself to wake up.
No one answered. Only the stench of old mildew and something dead was there to keep the dream-walker company.
“This is seriously messed up,” Cole grumbled as he tried to stand on shaky legs.
“I have to use the restroom!” he yelled.