Emergence - 1. Emergence

I retched as I approached the dilapidated house. I wondered why we were even here. With a stench this bad, the police should have called the coroner, not paramedics.

Kevin grimaced and handed me a bottle of Vicks VapoRub. I was glad I hadn’t eaten lunch yet. A policeman ran out of the house and threw up on the lawn. A fireman followed and shook his head. “You boys better get suited up before coming in here. It’s pretty bad.”

‘Pretty bad’ didn’t even come close.

The mailman had called the police after noticing an increase in the pervasive smell that surrounded the place around the same time the mail started accumulating. The occupant was a known hoarder with a belligerent past with local authorities.

Kevin and I donned white protective suits along with air masks and the VapoRub.

“Over here, boys!” The fire chief motioned us toward the back of the house. There were old magazines, yellowed newspapers, crushed boxes, dirty clothes, trash, and other detritus piled from the floor to the ceiling. We carefully negotiated our way along a narrow aisle of two foot deep garbage. It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic, I thought. Roaches and other loathsome inhabitants skittered away as we disturbed their nests. The fetid odor of garbage and rotting food did its best to compete with the foulness that increased as we approached our destination.

“There he is. The coroner is on his way.”

The hoarder’s bloated and decaying body was reclined in a nest of pillows on a grimy mattress, amidst a small clearing among mountainous layers of clothes and garbage. It was clear that he had expired a while ago, although just how long was hard to tell due to the heat.

“Hey! We got another one here!”

Kevin and I turned around and followed the fireman’s voice to the other side of the house. Between the insects, garbage, and stench of the hoarder’s body, I thought I’d seen the worst of this house of horrors. I was wrong.

The acrid reek of urine and feces was almost as bad as the smell of the rotting corpse. More of the same piles of debris encircled the room. In the middle of the mess was a naked man lying in his own filth on a tattered mattress. He was emaciated and shackled to a radiator. He was covered in bruises and I let out a gasp when I realized that this poor man likely starved to death after that fat bastard kicked the bucket. I desperately hoped we weren’t in for any more surprises.

“Go get some bolt cutters and a blanket,” I told the fireman.

“We need to wait for the detectives. Preserve evidence and all that, you know?”

“Get a blanket and bolt cutters, now!” I yelled. This poor man needed to be afforded some dignity. The startled fireman left to honor my request.

I leaned down and brushed a strand of the man’s greasy auburn hair out of his eyes. His eyes opened at the touch and he took a gasping breath, flailing his limbs and attempting to scream.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I fell backward and then sprang into action. “Get the med case! Hand me an IV!”

I talked to the man in low, soothing tones and tried to touch him, but he flinched away. There was a flurry of activity as word spread about the living victim. The fireman arrived with the bolt cutters and we freed him from the radiator. The shackle was embedded in his wrist and he would need surgery to have it removed; if he made it that long.

The initial fright upon seeing us used up the man’s remaining strength, and he lapsed back into unconsciousness. I started an IV with fluids as Kevin contacted the hospital. I had to stick his jugular due to the rest of his veins having collapsed. He had extensive weeping bedsores and was covered in bruises in varying stages of healing. He was encrusted in his own filth and what looked like dried semen. I wanted to puke. I felt tears threaten to fall, but I pushed the feeling aside. I could weep for him later; right now, he needed me.

I talked to him during the entire ride to the hospital. I wondered when he last heard a kind voice. He survived the trip and I didn’t want to hand him off to the trauma team when we arrived. Kevin put his arm around my shoulders and led me away.

“Hey, bud. They said we can use the decontamination showers. We’ll have to disinfect the whole rig, too. We’re off active duty for the rest of the day.”

I nodded my head in numb acknowledgement.

“Andy …” When I looked at Kevin, I saw my own shock and horror reflected in his eyes and I sank down, sobbing. Kevin held me until I calmed down. “C’mon. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

As I scrubbed away the filth – I had no idea when I would truly feel clean again – I thought about why I reacted so strongly to this man. I’d seen some pretty horrific things as a paramedic, but the majority of them were trauma, not abuse cases. I thought about Bobby, my thirteen year old adopted son. He’d suffered similar abuse in a Russian orphanage.

Kevin and I left the decontamination area in borrowed scrubs; our uniforms were to be incinerated. I saw one of the nurses who worked on the man walk by and my heart sank.

“Hey, Sean. You were working on that guy we brought in. Is he…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

“He’s still alive, although no one knows how. They’re still working on him.”

Kevin put his hand on my shoulder. “You want to stay.”

I nodded.

“No problem, man. Do you want me to call Jenny?”

I shook my head. “I can call her, thanks.”

He gave me a quick hug and pat on the back. “Look what Bobby survived and how well he’s doing now. There’s no reason to think that this man won’t do the same.”

*****

I waited for hours while the ER team worked on him. I heard them call for the crash cart several times and each time it felt like my heart stopped as well. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Jenny gave me a quick kiss and handed me a bag from McDonalds. “Kevin called and filled me in. How’s he doing?”

I drew her in close and kissed the top of her head. “As far as I know he’s still alive.” I shuddered. “It was like looking at Bobby in that orphanage, only worse,” I whispered.

Jenny ran her hand along my cheek. “It’ll be ok, honey. Look at how well Bobby’s doing. Have they found this man’s family?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I think I’m the only one waiting for him.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before they identify him. I bet he has family that’s worried sick about him.”

The doctor emerged from the exam room looking very haggard. I dashed over to him. “Hey, doc. How’s he doing?”

“Hey, Andy. So you were there when they found him?”

“Yeah.” I grimaced.

A young detective strode over and stopped in front of the doctor. “Dr. Olsen? I’m Detective Lafferty. I was sent to get an update on the victim.”

“Have you determined who this man is?” The doctor asked.

“No, sir. We’re still working on it. Is he up for questioning? We’d really like to find out what happened.”

“Son, do you have any idea of the condition he was in when they found him?”

The detective shook his head.

“I have no idea how he is currently alive. If these boys hadn’t intervened he would have been dead within an hour. He’s severely dehydrated, malnourished, and septic from infected bedsores. He’s been brutalized and likely raped over an extended period of time. His skin is extremely fragile due to his weakened state and from lying in his own urine and feces. His condition is grave. It will be a miracle if he survives. So, no, detective. He is not up for questioning.”

The detective blanched. “Can I at least take his fingerprints?”

The doctor nodded. “I’ll get a nurse to assist you. Andy, why don’t you go home and get some rest? He won’t be waking up anytime soon. Stop by tomorrow and I’ll fill you in on his progress.”

I nodded and headed home.

I had recurring nightmares that night. I kept seeing the man’s tortured face as he flailed and tried to scream. His facial features morphed into mine, Kevin’s, Jenny’s, and finally Bobby’s. I sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat. I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up.

*****

“Damn! You look like hell.” Kevin handed me a cup of coffee. I scowled as I took a sip.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Seriously, man. Did you get any sleep last night?”

“In between all the nightmares? No … not really.” I let out my breath slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Do you think we could make a supply run to the hospital before we start?”

Kevin put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Sure thing. I’d like to know how he’s doing, too.”

Detective Lafferty was talking to Dr. Olsen when we arrived at the ICU. The look on their faces was grim and I felt my blood run cold. Kevin put his hand on my back as we approached the duo.

“Hey Andy, Kevin. Here to check on the patient?”

I nodded.

The doctor’s expression softened. “He survived the night and his vitals seem to be getting steadier. I was able to remove the shackle from his wrist without putting him under anesthesia. It looks like the damage is superficial, so he’s not in danger of losing his hand. His condition is still critical; his body could shut down at any time, but I’m cautiously optimistic. This man is a fighter. I’ve seen people succumb to far lesser injuries.”

“Thank you for the update.” I looked at the detective. “Have you had any luck identifying him?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. We’ve searched Missing Persons for the last five years, but no luck. His prints weren’t in the system, either.”

“Would it be ok if I saw him?” I asked the doctor.

“I don’t see why not. Just don’t stay too long, ok?”

“Thanks, doc.”

“Anytime, Andy.”

The man – now dubbed ‘John Doe’ – looked much better than he did when we found him. The nurses had cleaned him up and he didn’t reek anymore. His bedsores had been treated and dressed and his skin tone was a vast improvement over the pallid gray of before. His auburn hair had been washed and his face shaved, giving him a youthful appearance.

“Hey, we gotta go, man.” Kevin waved the radio at me.

I nodded and followed him out to the rig.

*****

At the end of the day I found myself driving toward the hospital instead of home. I was grateful that all of our calls had been run-of-the-mill. I called Jenny to let her know that I’d be home late and took the elevator up to the ICU. There was a different doctor on duty and he gave me a quick update; there was no change.

I sat with John, intending to keep him company for a little bit before heading home for dinner, but instead found myself talking to him about my life. I told him all about Jenny; how we met, our wedding, and adopting Bobby. I told him about Bobby’s accomplishments in school and sports. I left out the part about the Russian orphanage and the conditions I found him living in.

A soft knock on the door brought me out of my reverie. “Hey, hun.”

Jenny smiled and hugged me tightly. “How is he?”

“Much better than before, but he’s still not out of the woods. What are you doing here? I told you I’d be a little late.”

“You’ve been here over three hours. I brought you something to eat.”

“Three hours?” I looked at my watch in shock.

Sean walked into the room with another nurse. “Hey, Andy. It’s time for us to change his dressings. Why don’t you head home? I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Jenny gently squeezed my hand. “C’mon, sweetie. Bobby misses you.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Sean.”

*****

The doctors kept John sedated for the rest of the week. I spent hours with him every night, talking about everything I could think of. I read to him when I ran out of stories about me, Jenny, and Bobby. I was thankful to have such an understanding wife and son. Bobby was curious about the man and why I was spending so much time with him, but I found myself unable to answer his questions truthfully. I didn’t want to remind him of his horrid early years.

Detective Lafferty was unable to find any information on him, so John’s identity remained a mystery. They hadn’t found any evidence at the hoarder’s house. With all the junk in there, it would take years to find anything.

About a week after John’s rescue, Dr. Olsen decided it was time to start weaning him off the sedatives. His wounds were healing nicely, his vitals were good, and his overall appearance was markedly different. He was still emaciated, but was starting to fill out from the IV fluids and nutrition. I took the day off to stay with him. I didn’t want him waking up alone.

I had just finished eating lunch when I heard a low moan. John was frowning and writhing on the bed. It looked like he was having a nightmare. I talked to him in low, soothing tones, hoping to reassure him. He gasped and sat upright. He looked around the room in confusion and raised both his arms. He looked at them in amazement.

“You’re free. You’ll never be shackled again,” I said gently.

John looked at me in horror, scampering back on the bed and taking big, gasping breaths.

I put my hands out and backed up. “Easy, there. I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Andy. I’m one of the paramedics who rescued you.”

“Rescued?”

“Yes. You’re in the hospital. You’re safe, now.”

“Safe? I’m not safe! He’ll find me!”

“No, he won’t. He’s dead.”

“Dead? Are you sure?” He looked at me skeptically.

“Quite sure. I saw his body myself.”

John collapsed back on the bed. “So it’s really over?” He asked shakily.

“Yeah, it’s over.”

“Your voice sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

“I’ve been keeping you company all week, reading and talking to you. I wanted you to know that you weren’t alone.”

“Huh. Well, thanks.” He yawned and drifted back to sleep.

*****

“Andy, right?”

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

John looked puzzled. “I’m not sure. Harold never called me by my name. It’s been so long, I just don’t remember.”

“Well, why don’t we stick with ‘John’ for now?”

He smiled wanly. “Ok. I like that better than ‘Whore’.”

Dr. Olsen entered the room accompanied by a black-haired man. He smiled at John and extended his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you...”

“He doesn’t remember his name,” I said.

“I guess it’s ‘John’ for now, then, unless there’s another name you’d like us to call you.”

John shook his head and tentatively shook the doctor’s hand.

“I’d like to examine you briefly, and then Dr. Harris has some questions for you, if you feel up to it.”

John looked at me apprehensively. I nodded.

“Ok,” he said.

I stood up to leave.

“No!” John shouted.

I jumped. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t leave me!”

“Ok, I’m not going anywhere.” I sat back down.

Dr. Olsen checked John’s reflexes, wounds, and vitals. “You’re doing remarkably well, given your condition when you arrived. You should make a full recovery.”

John nodded. “Ok.”

“I’m going to leave you with Dr. Harris, now. Please let me know if you need anything else.”

Dr. Harris settled into a chair across from John. “Would you rather have this discussion in private? We may be touching on some sensitive areas.”

“No. I want Andy to stay.”

“Alright. Let’s start with your name.”

“I don’t remember. He never called me by my name.”

“What did he call you?”

“It … Thing … Whore,” he whispered.

“What’s the last thing you remember before you went to that house?”

John frowned. “It was so long ago. I think I shut it all out. It was too painful to remember.”

“Do you know what year this is?”

“No.”

“What’s the last year you remember?”

“2004.”

The doctor and I looked at each other, shocked.

John sat up, alarmed. “What year is it?” He asked, shakily.

“John … it’s 2014.”

His eyes widened as he processed this information. “Ten years? I’ve been gone ten years?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Dr. Harris.

John started shaking. “That bastard stole ten years of my life?” He gasped.

“John, relax. It’s ok.”

“Ok? OK? It’s not even close to being ok!” He yelled.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I upset you.”

John reached out for me and I took his hand. He drew me in and held on to me, trembling.

“Shh… take some deep breaths. We’re done for now.” I glared at the doctor.

Dr. Harris stood up. “I’ll check on you later. I think that’s enough for one day.”

I straightened up and John let go. He grabbed a tissue and blew his nose.

“I can’t believe it’s been ten years,” he whispered as he sank back into the pillows. He was still very weak and immediately drifted off to sleep.

*****

I stared out the window as John slept. Ten years. Bobby lived in that orphanage for five years; he was one of the lucky ones. It wasn’t surprising that John blocked out his past. I think I would have too under those circumstances.

“Hi, Andy.”

“Evan! What are you doing here?”

“Jenny sent me to make sure you ate some dinner. How is he?”

“He’s doing amazingly well, considering. He just found out he was in that hell-hole for ten years. The last year he remembers is 2004.”

Evan whistled. “Ten years… damn! I can’t even imagine… He’s going to be sleeping for a while, right?”

“Yeah, probably. That doctor’s visit took a lot out of him.”

“Come downstairs with me and get some dinner. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

John was still asleep when we returned to his room. I was grateful for Evan’s company. Even though he was my best friend, it had been a while since we caught up. Evan watched John thoughtfully.

“He’s cute.”

I looked at him incredulously. He snorted at me.

“Relax, will ya? You honestly think I’m going to put the move on him?”

I rolled my eyes. Evan had dated his share of men. We talked for about an hour before we lapsed into comfortable silence.

“Toby.”

Evan and I sat up, startled. John was awake and staring straight ahead.

“My name is Toby.”

“I like it.” I smiled at him. “Toby, this is my good friend, Evan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Toby.” He held out his hand and Toby shook it nervously.

*****

“I was jogging along the bike path when I was crippled by blinding pain. I passed out and when I woke up I was trapped in a filthy room. I tried in vain to find a way out. It was several days before anyone came for me. I had no food or water. By the time he opened the door, I was too weak to put up much of a fight. He also had a Taser. I tried to fight when he came near me, but he knocked me down and beat me until I was almost unconscious. He wanted me awake for what came next. He told me I deserved to be treated like the whore I was, then he raped me.

“My life became a series of beatings and rapes. He fed me just enough to keep me alive. I only left that room a handful of times over the years; every time the authorities came to check out the house. Each time he gagged me and hid me well enough that I wasn’t found. I eventually lost all hope of escape or rescue. I stopped thinking of ‘before’ and just concentrated on surviving the ‘now’. When Harold stopped coming I thought he’d tired of me and wanted me to die. It never occurred to me that something had happened to him.”

“What do you remember about your life prior to the abduction?” Dr. Harris asked.

Toby shook his head. “I don’t remember,” he said shortly.

“You can’t remember or you don’t want to remember?”

Toby frowned and I recognized the look; he’d had enough.

“I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Ok. You’re doing great, Toby. Your memories should come back in time. “

Toby nodded drowsily. He still tired very easily and fell asleep as soon as Dr. Harris left.

*****

“Your name is Toby Quinn. You were reported missing on April 3, 2004 by Alan Tremaine. You went for a jog in the morning and never returned.”

Toby turned white at the detective’s words. “Alan?” He whispered. He started shaking and for the first time I’d seen since his rescue, crying.

“Who’s Alan?” I asked softly.

“My partner. We met in high school and were together ever since.”

I held him as he sobbed into my chest. He eventually cried himself into an uneasy slumber.

*****

I had to work the following day, and Evan surprised me by volunteering to keep Toby company. He was recovering remarkably well physically, but I was worried about his mental state. No one could endure what he had without suffering some serious emotional scars. I tried to encourage him to talk to Dr. Harris privately, but he continued to insist that I be there.

I stopped by the hospital after my shift and saw a blond man exiting Toby’s room. The look on the man’s face was agony. I knew immediately that this was Alan. When I entered the room, Toby was sobbing uncontrollably in Evan’s arms. Evan was talking to him in a soothing voice, rubbing his back. He kissed the top of his head. Toby was inconsolable. A nurse entered the room shortly after I did and administered a mild sedative into his IV. Evan stayed with Toby until he fell asleep, then disentangled himself, took a shuddering breath, and looked at me.

“Oh God, Andy… It was awful,” he whispered.

“That was Alan, wasn’t it?”

Evan nodded. “It’s been ten years. He has a husband and three children. He thought that Toby was dead. He’s not willing to abandon the last ten years of his life. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Toby’s face when he told him that.”

*****

Toby took a turn for the worse after Alan’s visit. He refused to participate in physical therapy or to see Dr. Harris. He even told me to go away, but I wouldn’t. It was Evan who found the key to penetrating the darkness Toby had fallen into.

Evan was a retired army veteran. He was honorably discharged after being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder following a raid where several of his team were killed and he was seriously wounded.

Kevin and I took our lunch break at the hospital one day and walked in on Evan telling Toby about his experiences in Iraq.

“I think I’m ready,” Toby said.

“For what?”

“To start living again. It was foolish of me to think that Alan would have waited for me. Of course he had to move on. I can’t begrudge him that.”

Evan squeezed his hand. Kevin raised his eyebrows at me. I shrugged.

“I’d like to talk to Dr. Harris today, if that’s possible.” He paused. “Alone.”

“That’s great, Toby. I’ll see if he’s available,” I said.

Evan stood up. “You guys enjoy your lunch together. I’ll go check.”

*****

“Your progress is excellent, Toby. You’re ready to be discharged as soon as your physical therapist signs off on it, which, he assures me, is soon.” Dr. Olsen smiled.

Toby looked grim. “That’s great, Doc, but where am I supposed to go? I can’t work. I don’t have Alan anymore. My family disowned me a long time ago. I don’t know what to do.”

I cleared my throat. “Jenny and I have been talking … We want you to stay with us.”

“Andy … wow … I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve been so kind to me, I can’t –“

“It’s a done deal, Toby. We’ve already cleared out the spare room. Bobby is very excited about it. You don’t want to disappoint him, do you?”

A tear fell down Toby’s cheek. “Of course not.”

*****

Toby moved in a week later. He was determined to make himself a contributing member of the household, so he did the housework while Jenny and I were at work and Bobby was at school. He also insisted on making us dinner every night. He was a pretty good cook, despite his diet of the past ten years.

His PTSD symptoms persisted, and he was having nightmares every night. He needed to keep the door to his room open and was very claustrophobic. He tried to hide the nightmares; he didn’t want us to worry. He couldn’t hide them on the nights he woke up screaming, though.

One night I went to use the bathroom and heard low voices coming from Toby’s room. I stopped and listened, curious.

“Why do you have nightmares?” Bobby asked.

“Because of what happened to me.”

“What happened? No one will tell me.”

“It’s not something someone your age needs to hear. Hell, that anyone needs to hear.”

Bobby snorted. “Everyone treats me like a little kid. I’ve been through some pretty crappy stuff, too. Maybe I’ll understand if you just give me a chance.”

There was a long pause and I almost walked away; I felt like I was intruding.

“Ten years ago I was out jogging when a man attacked and abducted me. I spent the entire time shackled to a radiator. I had a filthy mattress to sleep on and had to use plastic bags for a bathroom. I was lucky if he fed me once a day. He hurt me almost every day. When he stopped coming I thought he’d abandoned me. I would have died if your dad hadn’t saved me when he did.”

“My dad saved me, too. I lived in a Russian orphanage until I was seven. I was kept in a room with a bunch of other boys. We were all tied to rings in the wall and left with dirty blankets to sleep on. We wore diapers because we were never potty trained. They weren’t changed very often. We were lucky to be fed once a day, too. My dad saved me when he adopted me.”

I had never heard Bobby talk about his past in the orphanage before. I had no idea he remembered so much. I ran to the bathroom so they couldn’t hear my sobs.

*****

Toby and Bobby became very close and the change in both of them was remarkable. Toby’s nightmares started to lessen; although he continued to occasionally wake up screaming. Bobby’s grades improved and he needed less support at school. His emotional outbursts lessened significantly.

A few months later I left work early because I wasn’t feeling well. I heard laughter and animated conversation coming from the living room and found Evan and Toby engaged in a lively game of cards. Apparently Evan had been spending his lunch breaks with Toby.

About a week after that, Toby asked Jenny if she minded cooking dinner that night. We found out why after he emerged from his bedroom in khakis and a red button-down shirt. Although he was still skinny, he had filled out nicely and had his hair cut in a fashionable style. He looked great.

The doorbell rang and Jenny answered the door to a similarly dressed Evan. The look on his face when he saw Toby made me realize that there was a lot more to their relationship than any of us knew.

“Wow… Toby, you look amazing.”

He blushed and smiled shyly. “So do you.”

I was like a mother hen the whole time they were on their date. I fell asleep on the couch and awoke when I heard Evan’s car. A long time passed and Toby hadn’t come inside so I peeked out the window. They were embracing and Evan gently cupped Toby’s cheek before kissing him. I’d never seen either of them so happy.

*****

Toby lived with us for about a year before he moved in with Evan. He enrolled part-time at the local college. He wanted to be able to go back to work. He still had times when the PTSD surfaced. He wouldn’t go out in public alone and had occasional panic attacks and nightmares.

Detective Lafferty called last week to let us know that the hoarder’s house was scheduled to be demolished. We stood across the street – Jenny, Bobby, me, Toby, and Evan – and watched as the bulldozer razed the building. Toby sobbed in Evan’s arms as the room where he spent those hellish ten years was piled into a dump truck.

“I forgive you, you sick son-of-a-bitch,” he whispered. “May god have mercy on your soul.”