Come Alive Ch. 07

Taggart winced when the IV was mated to the port in his chest; the snapping sound it made unnerved him, the sharp sting it made on insertion was just icing on the cake.

He was sitting in a large room with what he guessed was a dozen or so other patients - people of all ages - all getting one kind of chemotherapy or another. Each and every one of them was laid out in brightly colored overstuffed recliners, and Taggart looked at all the others in the room feeling an underwhelmed mixture of revulsion and self-pity. Their feet up, their eyes closed, he felt a passing wave of nausea as he imagined embalming fluid passing into all those veins.

'We're dead, all of us in this goddam room. We just don't know it yet...'

The nurse hovering over him adjusted the flow-rate on his IV and disappeared. There were a couple of cheerful magazines on a cheerful little table by his cheerful recliner but one quick glance confirmed his first impression: nothing in English so nothing cheerful to read. He pushed a button and laid back, then closed his eyes.

'Just like falling off a log,' he remembered thinking...

Then he was walking down a dirt road. In a forest. Light snow falling. Wispy tendrils of snow on gray-brown leaves. Footsteps and the sounds of his breath the only music in this air. This air...? So far away, so long ago. Where...?

He searched memory, looking for this passage of time, this slice of life long gone.

Yosemite. He was seven years old, his first trip to the park. Thanksgiving vacation. Walking through the woods with his father, only now he was alone.

He turned, looked around, realized he was alone in the forest and he felt that same sudden panic every child experiences when alone and lost become the first words that come to mind.

Should I run? But where to? Who would I run to? There's no one here...

No, I'll just keep walking. Got to keep moving. Forward. Always forward.

He heard a snapping twig, turned to the noise. A fawn was circling aimlessly, the falling snow blending with the spots on his back.

Then he saw a rattlesnake. Huge. Preposterously so.

And so a careless fawn wandering in aimless circles, not a care in the world, comes face to face with death. In an instant, the snake is coiling around the fawn, then squeezing tighter and tighter until life leaves the eyes of both predator and prey. The snake takes the fawn by the head and slowly begins to devour him.

He wants to run now but can't because he has to stop and watch this happen, look at one more pointless death. But no, is that right? If death is pointless, isn't life pointless too? Aimless, wandering circles we call all our own?

He felt a presence by his side and opened an eye, watched as Dina Bauer talked to his nurse while a new bag of poison was fitted to the pump that was squeezing pure unmitigated shit into his veins. He turned away, closed his eyes - welcoming the darkness once again.

Then he felt his chair lurch, his feet lowering, then his head coming up.

And Dina was beside him now, looking into his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just swallowed a squirrel." Another Pointless Joke from The Joker.

She smiled. "This dose was a little different than the first. You will feel some nausea this time."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Oh?"

"It just wouldn't be chemo without vomiting and hair loss, ya know? It's like my very own red badge of courage."

She shook her head, smiled at his irreverence. "I wish you could experience saving just one life, Henry Taggart."

"You mean...the people in the water didn't count?"

She hesitated, looked away. "No, I meant from a medical perspective. That you could experience saving a life through medicine. Then you might understand what it is I feel."

"What makes you think I haven't, Dina."

She tossed a smug, sidelong glance his way. "Oh, truly? Well, this I've got to hear..."

"You want me to tell you? Here, now?"

"Of course. Please."

He closed his eyes, found the memory...

"I was in graduate school. Working a couple of nights a week over at Hewlett-Packard, spending time with Steve Jobs on the weekends. I was living in a dorm that year. We were having a party, there in the dorm. I'd brought some silicon blanks and a small laser..."

"What is this silicon blank?"

"Almost pure silicon, very thin and formed into a circle, three-inch diameter. More reflective than a mirror."

"Okay."

"Anyway, we took the covers off a set of hi-fi speakers and I glued a blank on the dome of a woofer..."

"A what?"

"Woofer. It's the speaker that reproduces all the bass notes in music."

"Yes, okay. The big one, correct?"

"Yes. So, once the glue set we tilted the speaker and fired the laser into the blank, then we put on some Iron Butterfly. In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. The drum solo..."

She shrugged.

"Yeah? Okay, no biggie. So, anyway, the laser is bouncing along to the music and making all kinds of cool-looking patterns on the ceiling..."

"This is going somewhere, I trust?"

"Yeah, it is. So, we're listening to Dark Side of the Moon, and the first song, Speak to Me, starts out with this long recording of a heartbeat. So bingo, I'm gluing a blank on my roommate's chest and bouncing the laser off that - and what's on the ceiling? Well, it ain't random, Dina. It looked almost exactly like an EKG tracing. Anyway, the idea hits me...let's bounce the laser off a bunch of hearts, see if we can reproduce the results."

"Did it work?"

"Yup. So, yeah, one of the people we did this to was a girl, and yes, we glued a blank on her chest, right between two of the most glorious, uh, well, you know..."

"Indeed I do. So, what happened next?"

"Well, we get a tracing but it looks different. Really different. Like one trace on top of another. So, it hits me, right? This is a girl and girls can have, well, you know, two hearts beating in there..."

"What?"

"You know, a fetus?"

"Ah."

"So I put a blank on her belly and bounce the beam and pick up a fetal heart beat...which was really kind of cool because she didn't even know she was preggers."

"Preggers?"

"Pregnant."

"Ah."

"Still, we kept picking up subtle traces of the mother's heartbeat, even on the belly. That was a problem, I guess, that I wanted to solve. I talked with some of the guys over in the medical electronics division about what I'd found and they were all stoked because at that time you couldn't pick up a good fetal rhythm with a standard EKG. We started doing these laser bounce sessions over in the OB clinic at Stanford, and to make a long story a little less long I developed the very first working fetal ballistocardiograph. I hold the patent, too, though H-P made the rig. You guys could, with my little setup, diagnose major heart valve problems in-utero for the first time, and all because of Pink Floyd and little old me."

"Pink who?"

Taggart shook his head. "Damn, Dina! And I take it you've never heard In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida before, right?"

She shook her head.

"That figures."

"Well, I see you aren't feeling too bad. If there are no..."

"Wait a minute, doc. You mean to tell me I tell you this whole tale about how I..."

"Oh, I'm very impressed, Henry. You amaze me, really."

"Yeah. Right. So, you were saying?"

"You can make the afternoon shuttle down to Stavanger. I won't need to see you here until next week."

"So, I can make it to Oslo in a week, right?"

She seemed shocked. "You surely are not going to keep going, Henry."

"Places to go, Dina. People to see. Paris by Christmas, remember?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot go with you now."

"I understand."

"Is Eva going to stay with you?"

"I think so, for another week or so, then she's going to stay with her parents."

"How is the Parkinson's?"

"Still manageable."

"Is she a sailor?"

"No, not really."

"You're putting both Eva and the baby at risk, you understand?"

He sighed. "She doesn't want to leave."

"She doesn't know you are ill, does she?"

"I told her a couple of days ago. She seemed overjoyed."

"I'm certainly glad you didn't knock up that reporter, too."

"Don't think she can doc, but would you like me to try?"

"Frankly, Henry, I'm not sure Britt could take the heartache."

"Heartache? You're kidding, right?"

Dina shook her head. "I do not know what she sees in you."

"You mean, besides my dashing good looks and boundless charm?"

"Precisely." She smiled, but then she turned suddenly and walked back into the hospital.

"Well, what a charming conversation that was, Henry. So glad you could join us today." He looked down at his hands, saw the faint tremors, and knew it was time for his other meds.

+++++

Eva was below in his cabin when he got back to the Bandit; Clyde was snuggled up under her chin and didn't even look up when Taggart stuck his head in the cabin and took a quick inventory of the state of the union on board. With that score settled, he stepped down to the galley and put on some water and got his tea ready, then put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster...

The flight to Stavanger on that hideous Dash-8 Q400 turboprop had, he felt, just about finished him off. The pencil-shaped behemoth twitched and bounced on every little air current, and their final approach into the little coastal airport had felt like a ride on NASA's famed vomit comet. The flight was so nauseating that as soon as the wheels were firmly on the runway everyone onboard had burst out yelling and clapping, and for the first time ever he had joined in.

Still, by the time his taxi had made it back to Egersund his legs had begun the violent jerking twitch that signaled medication time, and as soon as he got some toast down he took his evening dose. And almost immediately he regretted it.

This latest round of chemo had barely begun playing with him these last three or four hours, just hinting at the nausea to come; now, with his Parkinson's med stuck about halfway down his throat, the real fun seemed about to begin. He put on a heavy coat and a wool watch-cap and crawled up into the cockpit, settled in behind the wheel with his tea, and looked at the docks.

His phone chirped and he saw it was Sigrid the Lawyer. "Hello...?"

"Are you at the boat? Still in Egersund, I hope?"

"Yup, still tied up - same place as last week."

"Good. I'll see you in a half-hour."

"Now...what's this all about? Dropping off her bill, perhaps?" He heard the tikki-tik of Clyde's nails on the companionway steps and a moment later his graying snout slid into view. "I bet you're ready to go take a crap, right, Amigo?"

"Bark, bark..."

"Understood. Let's get your leash on."

They walked to the end of the marina grounds and Clyde circled twice then dumped a city-sized load on the grass. "Geeze, Clyde, you been eatin' roadkill? Man, that shit stinks..." He'd picked up the mastodon turds with a poop-sack and dumped them in the appropriate litter barrel - just in time to see the Lawyer-mobile skid to a stop in the parking lot. As before, her driver got out a wheelchair and she'd just motored down to Bandit's stern as he walked up.

"Hello, Clyde," she said, then she looked at Taggart. "Excuse me, but you do not look well."

"I do not feel well. I feel like green eggs and ham, as a matter of fact."

"Chemo today?"

He nodded.

"So, what are your plans now?"

"I'm going to head for Oslo in the morning."

"Is that the best course of action?"

"I want to make it to Oslo in a week, so yes."

"You will continue with the therapy there?"

"Sort of. I'll keep moving - to Gothenburg the week after, maybe Copenhagen the next, then we'll have to see how much of the candle I've burned."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, the plan is Paris for Christmas so I'll be counting back from there. I'd like to go to Stockholm, take the Gotä Canal back to Gothenburg, then it's the Kiel Canal to the German North Sea coast with a stop in Norderney, then the inland waterways in the Netherlands and Belgium, if time permits, on my way to the Seine."

"That's a lot of water under the keel, Henry. For anyone."

"I hear you."

"Do you? Anyway, I understand this other girl, Eva, will be staying with you until Oslo?"

"So, Dina is keeping you advised of my progress, I take it?"

"Yes. She is quite concerned."

"Yes, well, that's the plan."

"I would advise against such a voyage. That is needless endangerment, and that violates the agreement we made with the Coast Guard."

"Assuming they know, you mean?"

"You may assume they do know."

"Ah, the lovely Dina strikes again."

"Yes. That is why I rushed down here this evening. They have been advised. Given Eva's lack of skill and the nature of the body of water you plan to traverse, you really should reconsider this - even without the agreement."

"It's that bad?"

"You know, Henry, just the fact you have to ask me that is a good indicator you have no idea what you are up against. But yes, it is that bad. And single-handing around the cape is simple negligence..."

"So was single-handing across the Atlantic."

Sigrid nodded. "Point taken, however very few laws pertain to Atlantic crossings, while there are volumes of law concerning passages between countries in Scandinavian waters. Laws that date back more than 500 years, as a matter of record - just so we are clear. If you undertake such a voyage I will not be able to represent you."

"So, what you are saying is..."

"In your current condition, you will need a competent crew to undertake this voyage."

"Uh-huh. And who do you recommend I call? Crews-R-Us?"

"No. Dina and Rolf."

"But she told me..."

"She is waiting for your call, Henry. But she will not come with Eva onboard."

"Oh, I see."

"You are inside the eye of a hurricane, Henry. A very dangerous hurricane."

"You know something, Sigrid. That woman keeps telling me she loves me, but she's more like a Praying Mantis. She bites off her mate's head after doing the deed..."

She shook her head. "Henry, there are three women in your little hurricane, and the hopes and dreams of a fifteen-year-old boy are bound up in all this, too. In some respects, I do not envy you, yet from another perspective, I find your situation most enviable."

"You want to trade?"

She smiled, then shrugged. "Call me when you get to Oslo. I'd like to visit with you one more time before you leave Norway."

"I will." He took her hand and watched as she motored up to her Sprinter and disappeared inside, then he took out his phone and called Dina.

+++++

Taggart opened the Logbook to the last entry and read through it, then turned to a new page and began writing:

"Noon. Position N 57 46 by E 7 31, SOG 7 knots last two hours, COG 90 degrees mag., OAT 68F, Sea temp 55F Wind out of the west at 12 knots. Running with spinnaker on calm seas. Know I'm tempting Poseidon but you couldn't ask for more benign weather to make this trip. Rolf is beside himself flying the spinnaker for the first time, and Dina is doing a good job on the helm. I've been relegated to sitting in the shade as too much UV exposure is apparently not a great thing for chemo patients. Typical. Shipping traffic is heavy as we are in the shipping lanes so on constant watch, both visual and radar."

He looked up from the chart table, first ahead then off to port - where he could just make out Ryvingen Lighthouse, now about ten miles away. He went down to the galley and grabbed a Dr. Pepper, then made his way up to the cockpit.

"Did you take your noon dose, Henry?" Dina said, smiling.

He shook his head. "I'll get it next time I go below."

She scowled and put Bandit on autopilot, then went below and got all his noon medications and brought them up. She handed them over and went back to the wheel, resumed scanning the horizon.

"You must've been a ship's captain in your last life, Bauer."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. The HMS Bounty."

Rolf laughed as he eyed the spinnaker sheets. "Why is it so hot, Henry?"

"Well, think about it. The wind is coming directly from behind at about 10 knots, and we're moving along about 7 knots. That means the wind over the deck is really only 3 knots, and the sun is directly overhead. So...if you don't put some sunscreen on, you are going to look just like a boiled lobster tonight. Worse still, you are going to feel exactly like a boiled lobster."

"Okay, okay. Can you watch the lines, please?"

"Sheets, Rolf. They're called sheets."

He grinned and ducked below.

"So, no submarines yet?" he asked Dina.

"And no whales. Very boring for you, I should imagine. No damsels in distress to rescue, or..."

"Yes, I think I see where you're going with this."

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Being angry and bitter, maybe even a little vindictive?"

"And what did you expect? In the course of one week you impregnate my daughter - and then, another woman..."

"Too bad you're in menopause, eh? Could have had a trifecta."

"You are incorrigible, Henry Taggart."

"I do try."

"Anyone want something to eat?" Rolf called from the galley.

"No thanks," they both replied.

"God, to be fifteen again," he sighed. "To sit in the sun and eat three cheeseburgers - guilt-free. Those were the days."

"I was never so lucky. Things were very difficult here after the war, until the oil boom, anyway."

"It's going to be very difficult for you this evening if you don't put on some lotion."

"I need some sun."

"Dina, you're past well done right now."

"Okay, take the helm." He flipped on the autopilot and scanned the horizon, saw a blip on the screen and pulled out the binoculars. A huge container ship, light blue hull and white superstructure was on their reciprocal heading, heading right for them, so he adjusted their course a little to the right and adjusted the spinnaker sheets, then he tagged the ship on radar and set a variable bearing line alarm. A minute later the ship altered course to its right and he relaxed a little. A few minutes later they passed port-to-port, and then that target was gone, probably headed for Baltimore.

Dina came up a minute later with a bottle of sunscreen. "Would you do my back, please?"

"Sure. Did you check on Clyde?"

"Sound asleep, snoring a little."

"That dog could sleep through the Second Coming of Elvis."

"I could sleep through the Second Coming of Elvis," she sneered.

"You don't like Elvis?"

"No, not at all."

"Ah. And yes, I liked the movies, too."

"I can see why. 'Girls! Girls! Girls!' What an imaginative title for a movie."

"Succinct, to the point...what's not to like?"

"I will never understand this male fascination with breasts. They are just udders, for crying out loud."

"Well, I've seen a few that remind me of udders, but by and large..."

At that point, Dina untied her bikini top and flung it into the sea. "There! See? What is the big deal?"

Taggart was mesmerized, entranced.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"Because they're perfect. In fact, I've never seen better."

"Really? You like them?"

"Like them? Hell, I could get lost playing around right there," he said, pointing at a nipple.

"Could I tell you something? A little secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never had an orgasm," she said.

"What? Never?"

"No, not once."

"When's the last time you had sex?"

"When Britt was conceived."

"You never, uh, played a solo on the bone-a-phone?"

"What?"

"You know, like, uh, did the deed by yourself?"

"Good God No!"

"It's not a mortal sin, ya know?"

"It's disgusting!"

"Disgusting? Really?"

"Yes. Completely."

"Wow. I thought all you people died off in the sixties."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Prudes. I thought the sexual revolution took care of all you people."

"I am not a prude!"

"Yes, you are."

"I am not!"

"Are too."