A Passing Stranger

Robin & Ginny

PART 5

Chapter 1

“Pa, pacing and scowling at your watch isn’t going to make this three hour lay-over go any faster.” Adam Cartwright pinched the bridge of his nose. His carry-on bag dug into his shoulder. “There’s a Starbucks.” He pointed across the concourse. “I need something to eat. I’m getting a headache. And you’ve eaten even less than I have. We’ll get some coffee and some breakfast and watch ‘Good Morning America’. It will help pass the time, and we can check out the weather forecast for New York.”

Adam was biting into his Bacon, Egg & Gouda sandwich when the name “Andy Walker” caught his ear. He gestured to Ben to look at the TV screen on the Starbuck’s wall. “Regis Philbin is talking about Andy Walker. Something about some commotion at a 911 Fundraiser at the Tavern on the Green in New York.”

“Andy was on stage and a pretty young woman who was part of the fundraiser started screaming about a ghost and fainted. It startled Andy so much he fell off the stage right onto Mayor Bloomberg’s lap,” Regis explained to Diane Sawyer, as the video tape of the performance started to play.

Adam’s sandwich dropped to the table as, on the TV screen, Bessie Sue Hightower pointed, screamed “Hoss!” and fainted into another young woman’s arms. The back of the big, sandy-haired man she had been pointing to could be seen as someone, a young woman, pulled him out of the room.

Ben clutched his coffee cup so hard his knuckles were white, and the lid popped off, spilling coffee on the shiny table top. Father and son stared at each other, stunned.

Chapter 2

Faye Franklin’s own anxiety was raised by Joe’s nervous pacing back and forth in the apartment. After his tenth trip up and down to the lobby of the apartment house to see if his family had arrived, she finally suggested that they ride out to LaGuardia Airport in a cab to meet Ben and Adam when their plane landed.

Joe immediately agreed and rushed down the hall to get his wallet and cell phone. He came out of his room carrying his Nikes and plopped onto the sofa to pull them on.

“Send her up, Carlton,” Faye said into the apartment’s house phone.

“Yes, Miss Franklin. And don’t forget that the electricians are going to be upgrading the wiring in the building for the next few weeks, so we might be having some temporary power outages. And, don’t use the elevators when they are working, or you might get stuck. I sure wouldn’t want that to happen to you. Tell that to Mr. Cartwright too. ”

“Yes, Carlton. You told us ten times; the management sent us a memo, and we saw all the signs posted around the building. Please just send our visitor up.”

“She’s on her way up. The electricians haven’t started, but you might want to walk down the stairs because the elevators are being sort of temperamental again. And the electricians might start working this afternoon if they show up then. Or tomorrow.”

“Faye! We’ve got to get to the airport! I just called the airline again, and the plane is right on time. Why did you tell the doorman it was ok to send someone up now?” he said, shoving his wallet into his jeans.

Faye put down the house phone. “That was Abbey Jones. Remember her? She was newlywed, and her husband was killed at the World Trade Center? “

“Yeah, but we have to get Pa and Adam at La Guardia,” Joe protested. “Carlton is hailing a cab for us. We have to go.”

“Trust me. My gut tells me that we need to talk to her before we go. Reporters’ hunches are not just a cliché for movies. I’ve had a couple that turned into something. In fact, one saved my life on a jeep ride through Beirut. She wouldn’t come by without a good reason. That’s not like her.”

Before Joe could say anything else, the apartment doorbell buzzed harshly. Faye opened the door and ushered in a very nervous Abbey Jones. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I have to talk to someone about this. Faye, I think you’re the right person. My sister wants me to go to the police, but my story sounds too crazy, and, oh, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“Go on, Abbey. Tell us what’s going on,” Faye urged their visitor. She led Abbey to the leather sofa in the living room where she sat nervously, clutching her purse like a security blanket. Faye and Joe sat on each side of her. Abbey started haltingly. “Do you remember my friend that I told you about? I told you about a man I met who had been injured on 9/11. We became friends. Good friends. He confided that he couldn’t really remember much of anything from before he was hit on the head.”

“Yes, what about him?” Joe nodded encouragement but quickly glanced at the clock on the opposite wall.

Faye could tell Joe was itching to leave.

“I don’t think he is who he thinks he is. Or who his parents are telling him he is. I have no real proof – just things he says at times and some things he’s done. Supposedly, he is a native New Yorker, but I was born and raised here, and I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“New York is filled with all sorts of different people, Ma’am. What do you mean?” Joe asked, checking the clock again.

“Well, for one thing, he doesn’t talk like a New Yorker. He sounds like he’s from some other part of the country. I just can’t figure out what kind of accent he has.” Abbey paused and tried to describe her other experiences. “Memory loss might explain why he isn’t familiar with things a man living here all his life would know, but he has knowledge of things that he shouldn’t. Did you see in the news about the man who got the handsome cab horse’s leg unstuck from a grate over by Tavern on the Green? That was him. How would he know how to do that? He doesn’t know how he knew. He said he just knew. “

　

At the mention of the stuck horse, Joe glanced wide-eyed at Faye over Abbey’s head. “Mrs. Jones, is your friend a florist named Vandervoot? Joe asked. “Were you with him last night at Tavern on the Green when all that trouble started? “

“Trouble?” Abbey hesitated.

“When Andy Walker swore he saw a ghost during his performance, when that young lady started screaming…” Faye explained.

“Faye and I were just walking into the manager’s office when everything happened. What a scene!” Joe added. “Cops, EMTs, security, waiters. Everyone but the Marines.”

“The staff and the cops brought Andy in there until the EMTs checked him out. The mayor too. No one was badly hurt

“I heard on the news,” Abbey said softly. “I’m glad.”

“Is that where you were last night?” Faye inquired.

When Abbey answered that it was, Joe pulled his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through the pictures stored there. “Is this him?” Joe showed her a picture of Hoss taken at the Reno airport as he departed for the fateful trip to New York.

“That’s him! How do you know Heinrich? Where was this picture taken? When?” Abbey looked back and forth at the people on each side of her. She was startled when the two leapt up from the sofa, hugged madly, whooped and began jumping up and down with joy.

Joe Cartwright immediately found his voice. “Mrs. Jones, that’s my brother, my brother Hoss! We thought he was dead! We found him for sure! Oh, my God, we found him! You found him”

Faye grabbed her purse. “The doorman is getting us a cab. Abbey, please, can you go to the airport with us. We’re heading out to LaGuardia to pick up Joe’s father and brother, Adam. They have to hear this from you. You can use my cell if you need to call into work.”

A few minutes later Abbey followed in a daze as they piled into a yellow cab. “La Guardia Airport ! American Airlines!” Faye told the driver.

“I told Adam he was alive,” Joe said under his breath “I told him.”

Chapter 3

“Amnesia? Hoss has been alive and been living as this Heinrich Vandervoort all this time? Why would these people tell an injured, frightened stranger that he was their dead son? Why didn’t they call the authorities? Didn’t Hoss have identification on him?” Ben had repeated these questions numerous times in the past few of hours. He was still trying to come to grips with the news. It was wonderful, miraculous news that his middle son was alive; but incredible that he was living as someone else. And now Abbey Jones told them that the man she knew as Heinrich was suffering from amnesia.

Ben, Adam, Joe, and Faye had been joined at Faye’s apartment by Bessie Sue Hightower. Bessie Sue fought tears as she told them of Dr. Hickman’s lectures on amnesia and the risks of telling the truth to amnesiac like Hoss. “The shock could cause irrevocable damage.” When she finished, she hastily excused herself and retreated to the guest bedroom to pull herself together.

“Can’t tell him?” Joe asked angrily. “We can’t go get him and tell him he isn’t this Vandervoort guy, that he’s Hoss Cartwright? Why not?”

“I don’t like it either, Joe. Hoss is alive, and I want him back home where he should be, where we can help him recover from this ordeal.” Ben tried to remain in charge. “It scares the hell out of me that we might damage Hoss mentally for life if we try to force this information on him. From what Mrs. Jones said, Hoss is refusing to go to the Netherlands with Mr. and Mrs. Vandervoort. He insists on staying in New York with her,” said Faye.

“We need to speak with these people, and explain that we are Hoss’ family. We need to find out why in God’s name they are doing this. If they know the jig is up and we’ve found him, they have no reason to hide him in another country. We can reason with them to stay in New York and look after him until his memory returns.”

“But, Pa . . . . “

“No ‘buts’ Joseph!” Ben snapped. “I will not endanger your brother’s mental health! We want him back but back whole and healthy. Do you want to bring your Hoss home from the dead only to chance that he is permanently damaged and has to be committed to a mental hospital? I’m his father, and I miss him terribly, but I love him too much to see that happen. I wouldn’t let that happen to any of you!”

Joe looked across the room to where Adam sat at the granite breakfast bar, his cell phone within reach. “Pa, what this Dr. Hickman says doesn’t sound quite right to me. I know, I know! I’m not a doctor or psychologist.” Adam raised his hands to ward off any objection from his father. “How old did Bessie Sue say this professor is? What current experience does he have with patients? Medical knowledge is constantly updated, especially knowledge of the human brain. Sometimes these old professors don’t keep up, or they won’t admit that what they have believed for years is outdated.”

The ringing of his cell phone saved Adam from the pithy comment Ben was about to make. Dr. Ed Booth was on the other end. Fortunately for the Cartwrights, Dr. Booth was now an eminent psychiatrist who practicing in New York.

“Ed? Thanks for returning my call so quickly. Yes, you heard me right. Hoss is alive and here in New York. Yes, the whole family is here, too. Apparently he has a form of amnesia since 9/11. It’s a long story, but we don’t know all the details ye. One thing we do know is that my brother thinks he is a Heinrich Vandervoort who has lived in New York his whole life. Some people took him in and have him convinced he is their son.

“Have you heard of a Dr. Addison Hickman? He’s an older gentleman, an American doctor, who is a guest lecturer at several universities in Great Britain. “Adam quickly explained about Bessie Sue, her long term relationship with Hoss and what she had related to the family about Hickman’s treatment of victims of amnesia. “Abbey Jones, the woman who knows him as Heinrich, said that Hoss seeming to have ‘flashes’ of memories that brought on violent headaches.”

“You don’t agree?” Adam listened to what his friend had to say, a look of hope on his face. “Yes, we’ll do that. Thank you, Ed. This means an awful lot to me.”

As soon the conversation was finished, Adam called Bessie Sue back into living room. He wanted her to hear Ed Booth’s comments along with everyone else. Joe had calmed down and perched on a bar stool next to Adam while Ben and Faye sat side by side on the sofa , Faye’s hand rested gently on Ben’s arm. Bessie Sue quietly entered and returned to the lounge chair she had been sitting in earlier.

Adam stood up as if he were about to make a speech or deliver a lecture. “Well, you heard my end of the conversation. Ed has heard of Dr. Hickman, and while he has great respect for him, he completely disagrees with his treatment methods. And the prognosis. At one time, Hickman’s treatment was the accepted standard among doctors. But, as psychiatrists gain more knowledge of the way human brains work, other treatments have developed.”

“What do you think, Bessie Sue? You are studying to be a psychologist,” Ben probed. He had watched Bessie Sue Hightower grow up over the years with Hoss and was confident she would want the best for his son.

“I’ve heard of Dr. Booth. He is quite well respected. I didn’t realize you know him personally, Adam.” Bessie Sue hesitantly interrupted. “I had doubts about what Dr. Hickman said myself, but he’s well known and respected in his field, too. I’m just starting out, still learning, and children are my real specialty. I don’t want anything worse to happen to Hoss. I really don’t know what we should do.”

Ben sighed and leaned forward, his head in his hands. “I don’t know, Adam. I just don’t know which path to take. The wrong thing could destroy Hoss’ mind forever.”

　

Adam strode across the room to sit beside his father. “Pa, Ed says that it sounds as if Hoss’ brain is trying to ‘remember’ his real life. On the other hand, people he has come to trust and rely on are telling him something completely different. It sets up an internal conflict that makes Hoss fight to suppress his real memories. He needs to be in surroundings and with people who were part of his original world. In time and with encouragement, it is possible that he will get everything back.”

“According to Ed, it is imperative that we tell Hoss the facts: who he really is, what happened to him, and who we are. He must be immersed in familiar surroundings with people he knows and resume his normal routines. And take him home. If we want, he’ll see Hoss before we leave, and he has recommend a wonderful doctor in Reno, right at the university. Ed thinks that not only does Hoss have amnesia, but he is suffering from being brainwashed.”

“Brainwashed?” Ben gasped.

“Like the POWs in Korea?” Joe shivered thinking of an old movie he saw on cable late one night when he couldn’t sleep. Frank Sinatra was a brainwashed soldier trying to prevent another brainwashed guy, his buddy, from assassinating a politician. It all ended horribly for the buddy.

“Yes, or people who have been in cults,” Adam said. “Ed said it’s really important we don’t let this go on too long. Hoss might get psychotic or even suicidal or homicidal.”

“Remember all those poor people in Jonestown who killed themselves and the followers of David Koresh at Waco? Oh my God!” Faye gasped. “We can’t let that happen.”

Chapter 4

Sitting in the rear workroom of his store, Klaus Vandervoort stared at the number he had just copied from the phone book. It was the listing for the Marquis Theater where Andy Walker’s play, “Early One Morning,” was being staged.

“Good Morning America” had just finished, and the credits were rolling on the screen. He reached up and snapped off the small TV on the top of the bookshelf. He needed some quiet to decide what he should do next.

During the show, Diane Sawyer had interviewed Regis Philbin about the commotion at Tavern on the Green the previous evening. The video tape of the incident showed a young woman pointing at Heinrich and screaming “Hoss” before she fainted dead away. She fell noisily, knocking over a table of glasses and dishes.

Someone had finally recognized the young man his wife had brought into their family to fill their son’s shoes. Kristina’s bizarre attempt to replace Heinrich with this passing stranger had failed miserably. Now this video was being shown over and over on national television. Certainly more of this man’s friends and family would see him and uncover the Vandervoort’s despicable deception.

Kristina might hate him for what he was about to do. It might mean the end of their long marriage. It could drive Kristina completely over the edge, but he had to do it. He had to do what was right for this young man who had been lost to his family. Vandervoort’s conscience demanded it of him. Slowly, he lifted the receiver on the phone and punched in the phone number.

When the box office told him that Andy Walker had not yet arrived in the theatre, Klaus took a deep breath and said, “Please have Andy Walker call me about an extremely important personal matter. It’s about the ghost he saw last night at Tavern on the Green. It is vital that he calls back as soon as possible. It’s about… It’s about Hoss.”

Chapter 5

The group in Faye’s apartment was surprised when the doorman announced that Andy Walker was downstairs.

“Shouldn’t you be at the theater?” Faye asked as she ushered the singer into the living room where the Cartwrights and Bessie Sue Hightower had been trying to sort out the situation.

“I have to hurry back, but this was too important for just a phone call. I had to tell you face to face, Mr. Cartwright, Joe, Adam…” Andy looked back and forth from each of them as he told of what he had just learned. “When I got to the theater, Sam, the theater manager, gave me a phone number to call. He said the guy that called said that it was urgent; the man mentioned Hoss. I called the number, thinking I was going to get some information about him and Uncle Thad. Maybe they found their remains. Or maybe it was some crackpot, or a reporter wanting an interview. But I couldn’t take the chance of not calling. So I called, and the man said his name was Klaus Vandervoort.”

“Vandervoort!” Joe gasped when he heard the name. Faye’s eyes widened.

The Cartwrights, Faye, and Bessie Sue listened incredulously as Andy repeated Vandervoort’s story. He explained to them how, on the chaotic morning of 9/11, the Vandervoorts found an injured young man outside their shop in the flower district. Vandervoort had explained that his troubled wife told the stranger that he was their son, and now, he finally hoped to set things straight.

After a long stunned silence, Faye was the first to speak. “This jibes with what Abbey Jones told us.”

“I know exactly where that flower shop is!” Joe exclaimed. “I went there and showed the woman Hoss’ picture. She said she never saw my brother. Let’s go and confront them and find Hoss! We can force our way in and then call the police, Pa, and tell them these people kidnapped your son! They are holding him against his will.”

“Joseph, calm down!” Ben cautioned him. “In the first place, they didn’t really kidnap Hoss.”

“And I don’t see how they are holding him against his will if he was out at Tavern on the Green the other night with Abbey…” Faye reminded them. “Hostages don’t usually go out on dinner dates.”

“Also, we don’t want to involve the police. Roy already looked into that. There is nothing legal we can do right now if Hoss is staying with them willingly,” Adam added.

“Mr. Cartwright, sir”, Andy interrupted the arguing by going directly to the man he knew was in charge. “Mr. Cartwright, the man wants to bring Heinrich, or Hoss to meet with you. Vandervoort appealed to me to make the arrangements for him to talk to you first. Then he’ll tell Heinrich that they are making a big flower delivery that will take both of them – just the two of them. This way Mrs. Vandervoort won’t be involved or know what he is arranging. According to what Mr. Vandervoort said, his wife is going over the edge. He wants to keep this from her till after it is completely resolved. Poor guy.”

“Poor guy!” Joe exploded. “How in the world can you say that, Andy? After what we went through this year! What about that? What about us!”

“Joseph!” Ben commanded. “In a way, I can sympathize with the man. He lost a son, and I thought that I had lost one. But mine has been found, and in bringing him back to me, Mr. Vandervoort is, in a way, losing his son all over again. And not only that, but he could possibly be losing his wife. He’s wanting to do the right thing, but it’s going to be at a terterrible personal cost.”

“What should I tell him, Mr. Cartwright? “ Andy asked.

“Andy, call him back and tell him to be here this evening,” Ben firmly directed. “Make it happen.”

Chapter 6

They all sat in the living room of the borrowed apartment at One Fifth Avenue trying to sort out the stunning news of the last two days. Andy Walker had reluctantly left an hour earlier to make his way back to the Marquis Theatre for his evening performance. Faye went into the kitchen to make some more coffee.

“Do you know the story of the Fisher King?” Klaus Vandervoort asked in a soft voice.

Adam nodded, “In Arthurian legend, the Fisher King is a mighty warrior who once received a wound that, while not lethal, could never be healed.” He wanted to strangle this man who had tried to brain wash his brother.

Adam thrust his hand into his jacket pocket where he had Hoss’ old, battered cell phone: the phone that he had used to light the way out of the burning World Trade Center tower on 9/11. Somehow, holding something that belonged to his brother calmed him and gave him courage to maintain his illusion of self-control.

“That’s right,” Klaus Vandervoort nodded. “To outlive your child is to receive just such a wound, painful, but it does not kill you. You know that wound will pain you throughout your days and eventually might be the true cause of your death. I am already wounded, like that Fisher King in the legends. It is only a question of timing when I will die from the pain of losing Heinrich and the endless suffering of his mother. I have dreams about the son I lost two years ago, but I never see his face. I see the back of him, and he is always running away from me in the street.”

“I don’t think any parent ever really gets over the death of a child,” Ben Cartwright began.

Vandervoort held up his hand to stop Ben Cartwright from continuing. “One day, another son came to me. A passing stranger ran to me. I saw his face. For an instant, he looked like my Heinrich.”

“But that’s no excuse for what you and your wife did! No excuse at all!” Joe shouted as he leaped from his seat on the couch. “You stole my brother!”

“Let him finish, Joseph.” Ben glared darkly at his youngest son. The rancher completely agreed with what Joe was saying but knew that, for Hoss’ sake, the Cartwrights had to get Mr. Vandervoort on their side. His eyes met Adam’s. They had to keep Vandervoort as their ally or lose Hoss forever.

Adam instantly stood up from his seat and tried to rein in his youngest brother. He knew Roy Coffee and Pa’s lawyer had checked with all the law enforcement agencies. All of them said that they had absolutely no legal right to take Hoss back if he wanted to stay with those Vandervoorts Hoss Cartwright was over twenty-one and was free to go wherever he wanted. If his family tried to fight it, or to have him declared incompetent, the matter could drag through the courts for years, and by that time, Hoss would be lost to them. He would have completely transformed into Heinrich Vandervoort by then. Or worse yet, according to Bessie Sue, he would have become insane from the two different personalities warring in his brain.

Adam knew Pa was right. Negotiating with Mr. Vandervoort was their best shot at getting Hoss back home as fast as possible.

Laying a heavy hand on Joe’s shoulder, Adam yanked him back onto the couch beside him. He dug his fingers into Joe’s bicep, squeezing him almost painfully tight. “Shut up and listen to what Pa says, or I’ll break your damn arm,” he breathed huskily into his brother’s ear. “If we don't bring Hoss home now, it might be too late for his mind to heal. Let Pa get the old man on our side. It might be our only chance

Sitting next to Adam, Joe sat silently, his jaw clenched tight, glaring at Vandervoort. Adam relaxed his painfully tight grip on Joe, but kept his hand rested on his brother’s arm. His other hand reached into his jacket pocket to grip his good luck talisman, the cell phone.

“Go on, please,” Ben urged gently. Of all the negotiations Ben Cartwright had dealt with over the years, resolving this agreement was the most important one he had ever faced.

“I don’t think any parent ever really gets over the death of a child, “Vandervoort repeated. “Some just learn to live with it. It becomes part of us. The hurt gets muted somehow, processed and tucked into a dark, buried corner. With me, it surfaces at the oddest times and feels like yesterday even though its years ago that I lost my son, Heinrich. I go visit him in the cemetery, and I talk to Heinrich… Do you know how that is, Mr. Cartwright?”

Ben nodded.

“I go to the cemetery and bring flowers, yellow flowers. Heinrich loved yellow. I bring flowers and talk, and then the pain recedes again until the next time. But Kristina, she lost so many already. She was so young and never really recovered from what she saw during the war… She could not even bear to go to the cemetery with me. She could never accept her only son was gone forever…She was in the hospital for months after Heinrich died, and then for months she couldn’t get out of bed and only cried. It was cancer. She lost everyone in the war, and now she lost Heinrich to cancer. Right in front of her they killed them all, her parents and the uncles and her brothers. It was only because the neighbor swore Kristina was her child and too addled to know what was going on that the Germans let her go. She never got over that, and she never got over losing our Heinrich. Heinrich was her father’s name and her brother’s too. I don’t know what will become of her if you take your son back.”

“But he’s not yours! Joe leaped forward before Adam could grab him. He stood within an arm’s reach of Vandervoort. “Hoss is my brother!” Both his hands were clenched into fists.

“Joseph!” Ben leaped to his feet and swiftly stood between his son and Vandervoort.

“He’s my brother too, Joe,” Adam said softly.

“We know what it is like to long for someone who is lost, Mr. Vandervoort, “Ben said gently. He slid his arm around his youngest boy and pulled him close. “We know what it’s like, I assure you.”

Adam tried to stay as calm as he could but couldn’t remain silent any longer. He had promised his father to remain quiet, but Ed Booth’s warning about Hoss’ dire prognosis rang in his brain. He took a deep breath. “Mr. Vandervoort, please. We want to bring Hoss back home to the Ponderosa. My father and my brother miss him so much. Hoss needs to be back on the Ponderosa, not here in New York, not far off in Holland, if he is going to recover. Please.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to bring my son home,” declared Ben firmly.

“I know, I know. But what am I to do? I am an old man, and Kristina is all that I have” Vandervoort sunk into the arm chair and started to weep.

“Please,” Adam whispered. He put his hand in his pocket and touched Hoss’ battered cell phone “Let my brother come back home.”

Chapter 7

The broken-down window air conditioner wheezed cool air into the darkened apartment. Adam walked over to the window. He set both hands flat upon the protruding edge of the air conditioner fitted into the guest room window. As he leaned against, it cool air blew onto the front of his open shirt. Exhausted, Adam stared through the sooty window into the darkened streets below.

Even at this late hour, the streets were busy with cars, buses and yellow cabs. Pedestrians walked on the wide sidewalk with a quick New York step. A young couple strolled hand in hand, oblivious to the hustle bustle around them.

The arch in Washington Square Park a few blocks away was awash in white light. Adam remembered spending a few summer evenings strolling in that park with a lovely NYU student. Pa had wanted him to come home that summer, but Adam had convinced his father that taking a couple of summer school classes in New York City would enhance his education. It did, but not the way his father had assumed.

At the time, he was sure Tara adored him as much as he adored her. Years later, when he heard Whitney Houston warble that awfully, sappy, theme song from “The Bodyguard”, “I Will Always Love You” or ate pepperoni pizza, he thought of Tara and their sleepless nights in her dorm room that smelled of sandalwood candles. Tara quickly tired of a Nevada man who preferred horses to the yappy Chihuahua she carried in her designer purse. Before the summer had ended, she had dumped Adam for a guy who didn’t like poetry and certainly didn’t make her swoon. The guy she married became a stock broker like his father, and bought her a huge house around the corner from her parent’s home in Connecticut.

Adam wasn’t used to the oppressive heat and humidity of a New York City summer anymore and couldn’t imagine how anyone managed. How did Hoss manage? Was he happy? How could he risk losing his brother again now that Joe and Faye had actually found him?

***

“Joe?” Adam whispered from the doorway of Joe’s room. He didn’t want to wake up his father and Faye sleeping on the other side of the apartment.

“Huh?” Joe rolled over in his bed on the other side of the dark room. “What’s up?”

“Are you sleeping, Little Joe?” Adam whispered into the dark room.

“No, not really. I can’t. I’m worried about trusting these Vandervoorts to do the right thing for Hoss,” Joe said, gesturing for his brother to come into the bedroom. “When I went there and showed that woman Hoss’ picture, she acted like he was a stranger. Meanwhile she knew exactly where he was. Why aren’t you sleeping, older brother? ”

“I don’t agree with Pa about his choice to follow this Hickman’s way of handling amnesia.” Adam flopped on the second narrow bed across from Joe’s. It creaked under his weight.

“You don’t?“

“That’s why I called Ed Booth. I think his opinion is the way we should go with Hoss. We can’t let this go on any longer, Joe.”

“You heard what Bessie Sue said. It might be too much for Hoss to handle and break him completely. He won’t come back at all. He thinks he is Heinrich and has lived as Heinrich.”

” I’m taking Ed’s advice. What do you want to do, Joe? Are you in or out?”

“You are going to defy Pa?” Joe propped himself up on his elbow. As dark as the room was, Adam could see the shock on his youngest brother’s face.

“It won’t be the first time I defied our father. It’s just the first time I’m pulling you along with me instead of your dragging me into something.”

“Do you think those Vandervoorts will give Hoss back with no problems?” Joe asked.

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. I think Pa is hoping they do.”

“Maybe they will.” Joe whispered optimistically. He still had total faith in his father’s abilities to do the impossible.

“Somehow, I think if we were both convinced that this was going to be simple and easy, both of us would be sound asleep and not having this conversation.”

Joe sighed and rearranged the pillows under his head. He finally had found Hoss alive, miraculously, just as he had hoped, just as he had dreamed and prayed. Somehow, he thought that once his father and oldest brother arrived everything would be easily resolved. They would take charge and everything would go back to normal. Joe had been quite positive all of them would be backing home on the Ponderosa with Hoss like nothing had ever happened on 9/11. He had been horribly wrong. “Maybe the Vandervoorts will agree with Pa with no problems.”

“Maybe they will.” Neither brother spoke for a few minutes and just sat in the darkness. The air conditioner rattled and wheezed.

Just when Joe was sure his brother must have fallen asleep still in his travelling clothes, Adam said “I do know what we’ll do if they give us a problem.”

“What?”

Then Adam proceeded to tell his brother what he planned. “First we need some CDs of Andy’s music, especially the one Hoss played over and over until he drove me crazy. That first big CD he made.”

“Andy Sings Wayne Newton’s Hits?”

“That one. And some ribs and fried chicken…and to get this up and running.” Adam reached into his trouser pocket and held up the damaged cell phone that hadn’t worked properly since Hoss used it to light his way out of the burning World Trade Center.

Chapter 8

He looked into Abbey’s tear filled eyes and squeezed her hand. “What I do know is that I’m going to tell them tonight that I’m not going. I know my parents have been through a lot with me, and I appreciate it. But I’m a grown man, and I need to live my life my way, and I feel like I was spared for a reason, and that I’m supposed to be in New York. I’m gonna ask them, too, if this”, he gestured with his head towards the tombstone with his name on it, “has anything to do with the move, and what is going on.”

He smiled down at the woman beside him. “I’m not going to bring you into it. I’ll tell them I stumbled onto it while making a delivery.”

“It’s alright. You can tell them I saw your father here.”

“No. No. I’m not involving you in this. We don’t know what’s going on.”

The couple sat there a while longer, silent, his arm protectively around her; her head on his broad shoulder.

Chapter 9

Klaus Vandervoort had never lied to his wife before and despaired over starting now. He knew he had no choice. The passing stranger had to be reunited with his family. He went into the back of the shop where the husky young man they called Heinrich was sweeping the worn tile floor while Kristina examined the inventory in the walk in flower cooler.

“Heinrich! “ Klaus Vandervoort called. “I just got a call to deliver some plants down town and need you to give me a hand with the big dracaena…and.. and the palm tree and the two small rubber plants.” .

“Plants now? A delivery down town? I didn’t hear the phone ring, Papa,” Kristina said emerging from the cooler. She had a clip board in one hand and a sharp yellow pencil in the other.

“You were in the cooler and didn’t hear it ring, Mama,” Klaus responded nervously. He couldn’t bear to look into his wife’s eyes. He turned away and took the oversized metal dust pan off its assigned hook and handed it to Heinrich.

Heinrich knelt and scooped up the pile of stem trimmings and leaves. He looked up at the pair. He hadn’t heard the phone ring either, but this wasn’t the first time he hadn’t heard the phone or the doorbell or a customer when he was lost in his thoughts.

“Where? Who ordered the plants?”

A distressed man who is not used to lying to his wife doesn’t think quickly when challenged “Where? One fifth. A woman.”

“One fifth? This late? It’s rush hour. That is all the way down near Washington Square Park.”

“A woman who takes pictures wants them right away. A photographer. She is taking portraits in her apartment. It’s a big order, Mama. The big dracaena and two palms and a small rubber plant. For backgrounds for the pictures.”

“Four plants? Klaus take the two rubber plants from the front shelf,” Kristina stepped back inside the cooler to finish her end of the inventory.

Heinrich started to go into the front of the store to get the rubber plants, but Klaus wanted to leave as fast as he could “The truck is loaded. Just get into the truck, Heinrich, and we’ll go now, right away.”

Heinrich shrugged. He neatly hung up the dust pan and broom on their hooks, took off his apron and obediently followed Vandervoort into the florist truck that was parked in front of the store.

Klaus and Heinrich had barely left when Kristina went into the front of the store to put her clipboard away. The rubber plants she had wanted her husband to take were still on the shelf. What was wrong with that man?

She heard the bell on the front door ring as a familiar person entered.

“Mrs. V? ¿Cómo está usted? How are you, Mrs. V? How are Mr. V and Heinrich?” Manolito Montoya smiled warmly as he came into the shop. He had his green card and all his paper work secure in his pocket. There was no need to worry if the curly haired young man from immigration was still snooping around. He was legal and could prove it. “Do you need any help? I’d like to come back to work if you want me, Mrs. V. You know I’m a good worker.”

“Manolito!” Kristina smiled warmly at her former employee. His timing couldn’t have been better. “Mr. V and Heinrich just left to make a delivery and left half the order behind. My husband would forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his neck. See that rubber plant?”

Manolito grinned. He was delighted to help. This favor could insure the Vandevoorts took him back. “I have my uncle’s car. Do you know where they went?”

“Where did Klaus say?” Kristina tried to remember what her husband had said. “Down town. One Fifth. A photographer’s apartment.”

“Hand me the plant, Mrs. V. We’ll bring them down in my uncle’s car. It will fit in the back seat.”

“Thank you, Manolito! You are a life saver,” Mrs. Vandervoort followed him out to the borrowed car.

“Pa! Adam look! Quick!” Joe Cartwright shouted from where he was perched on the window sill in the living room. “They just drove up! They are getting out of the van!”

Ben and Adam both rushed over to the window and squeezed in, almost knocking Joe from his lookout post. They caught a momentary view of Hoss following Klaus Vandervoort under the forest green canopy that sheltered the front of the building. It was their first glimpse of Hoss since he left for New York almost a year earlier. The Cartwrights all rushed to the apartment foyer to open the door for Klaus Vandervoort and Hoss.

None of them saw Mrs. Vandervoort enter the building carrying the stray rubber plant. All of them were shocked to discover her at the apartment door with the doorman carrying the rubber plant.

Chapter 10

“So, if nobody minds, I suppose we should leave. My head is throbbing, and I’d better turn in at home.” The husky man rubbed his forehead.

“No! Please, sit down, H..h..Heinrich.  I’d like to talk to you for a minute.” 

He took a seat on the ottoman facing Hoss, who sat on the oversized leather sofa.  Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Adam stare directly at his brother. He silently prayed that both of his sons stayed quiet as he made his next attempt to draw Hoss back to his genuine family.

“Mr. Vandervort told me that you had a quite blow to your head when the towers fell. He said that you have lost your memory, that you don’t quite know who you are.”

“I didn’t know who I was at first. I really didn’t have any idea until Mama told me. I still don’t remember a lot of things…” Hoss started to shyly explain.

“What if someone could tell you all this, exactly who you are, exactly where you come from?” Ben cautiously began.

“Mr. Cartwright! He is Heinrich Vandervoort! What are you saying?” Kristina screeched. “What are you telling my son?”

“Kristina! Hush. Let the man talk,” her husband demanded sharply. She was stunned by his orders.

It didn’t take long for Heinrich’s headache to overwhelm him.

“I, I don’t rightly know, Mr. Cartwright.  I don’t reckon I’ve thought about it. When I try to remember anything, I get a sick feelin’, and my head aches something fierce.” Hoss’ face screwed up in pain as he spoke. He put his head in his hands. “Talkin’ about it now, is bringin’ one of those bad headaches on.

Ben’s heart lurched at the distress reflected on his beloved son’s face. The rancher felt like he was being wrenched in half. He was positive that this was his final chance to break through to this stranger who was his middle son.  But, seeing the pain in those blue eyes, so like his mother’s, Ben couldn’t do it. He couldn’t inflect such suffering on his son.  No matter what the reason, he couldn’t hurt Hoss.

Bessie Sue Hightower’s ominous warning echoed in Ben’s mind. “Doctor Hickman would say not to push Hoss too far or too fast. He’s suffered a terrible physical and mental trauma. He has been living as another identity for all these months. He completely believes he is this other individual. He is sure that he is Henrich Vandervoort. The shock of finding out his reality was a lie might be more than he can handle if it is thrust on him too abruptly.”

Could this acute pain Hoss wa was experiencing be what Bessie Sue and Hickman had warned against? Adam said that Hickman’s theory was wrong, but what if it was correct? Could he take the risk of destroying Hoss’ mind? The apprehensive father hesitated for just an instant, fearful of hurting his son beyond rehabilitation.

Ben sighed and whispered gently, “It’s all right, son.”

“How about if H…H..Heinrich lies down in Joe’s room for a bit?” Faye quickly suggested. Like Ben, her tongue stumbled over that name.

“Heinrich needs his own bed at home. Don’t you, Heinrich?” Mrs. Vandervoort glared at Faye.” I don’t want to impose.”

Faye wasn’t going to back down, not when the Cartwrights were this close to their goal.

“It’s absolutely no imposition! He can use any bedroom in the apartment, the guest room, my room, Joe’s… Whatever suits Heinrich! You have your choice. No problem.”

Adam quickly added, “A couple of aspirin and some food and that short nap will make your son feel much better.”

“I don’t have any aspirin in the apartment. I’m so sorry.” Faye wasn’t absolutely sure whose strategy was proper: Ben’s siding with Bessie Sue and Doctor Hickman, or Joe and Adam wanting to follow Dr. Edwin Booth’s techniques. All she knew was she wasn’t going to run from this fracas between the Cartwrights and the Vandervoort. She was going to stand by Ben and his sons no matter what. If there was a tug of war, she was putting her muscle in with the Cartwrights bringing Hoss home.

“And how about a cold drink,“ Faye smiled. “Bet this heat is getting to you…. Heinrich.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother,” Hoss said softly. His head throbbed, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Oh it’s absolutely no bother. Adam, there’s some fresh lemonade in the kitchen,” Faye directed.” Or ice water. Whatever you like. We have it. Just no aspirin.”

This was the exact opportunity Adam Cartwright had been waiting for. He and Joe had run out first thing in the morning and come back with all of Andy’s CDs and some groceries, as well as a sack of assorted cell phone chargers and a tool kit from Radio Shack. Adam quickly jumped in and took charge. “Joe, take our guest to your room and let him lie down. It’s getting hot in here. Maybe play some soft music for him and crank up the air conditioner. Play some of Andy’s music.”

Joe quickly followed Adam’s lead. “We even have Coke in glass bottles like Hop Sing gets us back home. You don’t usually find that in New York. We also have Big Dog beer brewed right in Nevada…..It’s a real favorite of us Cartwright brothers. Adam and I got some just this morning when we went out. How about a cold beer?”

“Beer? Heinrich shouldn’t have beer for a headache!” Kristina spat out.

“It’s amazing what you can find in New York,” Ben added shooting Joe and Adam a warning look.

“Don’t make a fuss for me,” Hoss muttered. “Just some lemonade is fine.”

“Just lemonade, not too sweet. Just how you like it,” Adam grinned and jumped up. “Why don’t I run out and get some aspirin and some food?”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Hoss answered.

“Oh it’s no bother, brother.” Joe assured him. Before the Vandervoorts could protest any further, Joe grabbed Hoss’ arm and led him towards the bedroom he had been using all summer. “Want some nice soothing music to listen to? I have some new CDs I just got. Andy Walker. Bet you know him. Just close your eyes and relax and listen to some music.”

“How about some dinner, too?” Adam quickly suggested. “You all must be hungry. I sure am.” For some reason, Adam insisted on ordering food from some place further downtown, in Greenwich Village. He explained that he had first eaten in the place years earlier when he was a student visiting New York on his own. He claimed that Urban Cowboy Grill had fried chicken and ribs just like Hop Sing, their housekeeper back on the Ponderosa prepared them. He wouldn’t compromise, even if it meant a taking a cab up and back to pick up the food. “I insist! And if you don’t agree I’ll … I’ll…”

“Eat your hat?” Joe suggested coming back from settling Hoss in the bedroom.

“Great idea! I think dinner would be a fine idea. Urban Cowboy Grill is world famous,” Faye added with her most charming smile. ”I’ll go out with you and get it.”

“Dinner? Now?“ Mr. Vandervoort didn’t know what to make of the sudden flurry of activity around him.

“Dinner?” Ben looked back and forth between his family and the Vandervoorts. He had no idea what was going on between Joe and Adam.

Faye quickly leaned over and whispered to Ben. “Dinner. If Hoss remembers anything, it might just be the kind of food he got back home. Let Adam have a chance. Besides, the fewer of us around, the better chance you have to broker an agreement with the Vandervoorts. I know you can do it. The key is getting Mrs. Vandervoort to let go of Hoss and allow him go with you.”

Despite his misgivings, Ben wearily nodded his silent agreement. He prayed that the Vandervoorts would be willing to break bread and continue to hash out a peaceful solution rather than bolt with Hoss in their clutches.

In a flash, Ben took on the role of genial host in this borrowed apartment. “Please, Mr. and Mrs. Vandervoort. Let Heinrich take a bit of a nap, and then we all can have some dinner together and keep talking,” Ben Cartwright urged, trying to sound cordial. He hoped that they didn’t sense the desperation in his voice.

Klaus Vandervoort sat silent and frozen in his seat. He looked first at his wife, and then at Ben Cartwright. Taken by surprise by Kristina’s unexpected appearance at the apartment, Klaus Vandervoort had quickly weakened. It looked to Ben that, despite Mr. Vandervoort’s initial attempt at straightening things out for Hoss, he might go along with whatever his domineering wife wanted.  Klaus Vandervoort clearly didn’t approve of what his wife had done by attempting to replace their dead son with Hoss, but he was torn between doing the right thing by returning Hoss to his family and protecting his unstable wife. He still feared his wife’s ability to deal with another loss if her Heinrich left with the Cartwrights. He desperately wanted to see his wife happy again, perhaps even at the Cartwright family’s expense. 

“I don’t know… Heinrich is not feeling well, and we should just go home.” Kristina protested. She stood up. “Klaus, go get Heinrich and let’s leave. Now.”

Ben wanted to make another attempt at reasoning with Kristina Vandervort. Faye was right, the fewer people around, the better chance Ben had at success. Joe could lose his temper send the Vandervoorts out the door. He even doubted that Adam could remain calm and control his tongue in negotiating with this vile woman.

Faye quickly jumped in and made the decision for all of them. “You will all stay right here. We are going to go get some food and a bottle of aspirin for your son. Some Tylenol too,” she squeezed Ben’s hand, but Katrina Vandervoort thought she was referring to the Vandervoort’s son.

Then the photographer gave Mrs. Vandervoort her most friendly look, her most charming smile. “Besides, things always look better after a nap and on a full stomach. And I’ll be extremely insulted if you aren’t here when we get back. Please, stay. Please!”

Adam quickly added “We’ll be back before you miss us with the tastiest food you ever had.”

“Ben, make sure you offer our guests something cold to drink while we are gone. That lemonade Adam made is in the refrigerator and the glasses are in the cabinet over the sink. And there is some brandy on the sideboard if you want that.” Faye, Adam and Joe quickly departed before Kristina could argue.

All of a sudden, Ben sat alone in the living room of the apartment with the Vandervoorts, an awkward silence between them. The only sounds were the rattling of the window air conditioner and “Scarlet Ribbons” from Andy Walker’s first album playing in the in the adjacent room.

“Please, sit down. We need to talk some more about this.”

Mrs. Vandervoort tried to brush him off.  “Ach!  Please, Mr. Cartwright. You agreed that you want the best for Heinrich.”

“Hoss,” Ben corrected.

“We call him Heinrich,”” She stood up as if she were about to leave. “Mr. Cartwright.  I promise you. If your son regains his memory, we will make sure he has means to get back home to you.”

Her husband stood and motioned to the couch. “Kristina.  Sit down here and listen to what Mr. Cartwright has to say. How can you be so cruel as to not even listen?”  He didn’t raise his voice to his wife, but his stern tone left no doubt that, for once, he intended to be obeyed.  She stopped in her tracks, and dropped onto the couch facing the television.

Ben had started to go sit on the leather ottoman in front of Mrs. Vandervoort, but thought better of it, and kept his distance from her.  He found himself leaning forward as he spoke.

“Mrs. Vandervort, I really hope we can agree to work this out peaceably.  But I’m imploring you to let my son come home with us, to give Hoss a chance to maybe recognize something.  At least let him spend a few days with us here, in this apartment in New York. I don’t think that’s being unreasonable when we’re talking about a young man’s life, his future.”

Mrs. Vandervort nervously smoothed her skirt as she listened to Ben Cartwright, then clutched the material, as if she needed to hang onto something.  “What if a few more days don’t help? Then what will you do?  Ask for another day, then another?”  She fixed Ben Cartwright with her cold stare.

They were interrupted when the apartment door suddenly opening. Only minutes after he had left, Joe hurried back in. He glanced around the room and opened his mouth as if to say something, but his father caught his eye.  Ben held his breath, praying that his youngest son wouldn’t blurt out some angry, confrontational remark to the deceptive woman.

Instead Joe was cheerful and smiling. “Bet everyone’s getting hungry! Adam and Faye left in a cab to get the food,” Joe clearly had more on his mind then food.  He looked away from his father and ran his fingers through his tangled curls. Then he fished a familiar battered cell phone from his pocket. He held up the broken cell phone that the Marsalas had returned to Adam. Joe tried to avoid looking at the Vandervoorts.

“This phone still won’t work, Pa. I’m going to try to charge it up. I got a different charger from the doorman. Maybe that will get it to work.”

“That phone? The one Adam had in his pocket, Joseph?” Ben started. Ben’s heart raced. Why was Joe charging that phone? What was going on?

“Oh! Pa, the doorman said they’ll be turning off the power for a few hours to work on the elevators. Carlton said it might be off until nine or ten tonight. Maybe later,” Desperate to get into the room and work on the cell phone, Joe quickly cut his father off. He nodded curtly and without so much as a glance over his shoulder, Joe rushed into the room where Hoss was resting He needed to tinker with the phone and get the charger to fit in the broken case then charge it up. Maybe he really could get that battered cell phone working but then what?

 “Mr. Cartwright….” Mrs. Vandervoort started. “I would like to leave now, if you are finished.”

“Just one day. Just one. That’s all I ask,” Ben pleaded again.  

Throughout the conversation Klaus Vandervort hadn’t said a word; he just sat there silently. He glared sternly at his wife, but the words he was about to say were left unspoken. Vandervoort was torn between supporting Kristina and returning Hoss to his family. Having this pretend son replace their lost Heinrich had brought his wife back from her depression, but how could he do this to another family? How could he steal another man’s son and let him grieve a second time?

Ben and the Vandervoorts could hear Joe rustling around the other room, banging on something over the sound of Andy singing “Danny Boy”. Back on the Ponderosa, Hoss had played that the sentimental song over and over to the irritation of his brothers. Joe had finally grabbed the cd and used it as a Frisbee with Adam while Hoss gave chase.

“We have aspirin at home, Mr. Cartwright. I think Papa and I should take Heinrich home right now,” Mrs. Vandervoort stood up and gathered her purse to her. “Papa?”

For a long moment, Klaus Vandervoort remained silent, looking first at his beloved wife, and then at the face of Ben Cartwright, the man who asked only for the return of his missing son. “Mr. Cartwright? I think I would like that glass of lemonade you offered earlier.” Klaus Vandervoort leaned back in his chair. “A very tall glass.”

Part 6

Chapter 1

Just as the yellow cab pulled up in front of the apartment building, a flash of lightening slashed through the darkened sky, a clap of thunder rumbled and the down pour started. As Adam Cartwright paid the driver, Faye rushed under the forest green awning carrying the shopping bags filled with fragrant fried chicken and steaming ribs from Urban Cowboy Saloon. Adam followed carrying two more bags of delicacies that he hoped would wake up his brother’s buried memories.

Meanwhile in the borrowed apartment, Joe scrambled around the dining room arranging chairs and setting the table for dinner. "I'm starving! How about you?"

In the darkening living room, he Vandvoorts sat in total silence. A torrent of rain pelted the windows with violent fury.

Hoss had nearly finished washing up when Ben Cartwright tentatively tapped on the bathroom door and opened it part way.  His stomach was tied in knots.  Ben didn’t want to see his son as upset as he was just before he went into Joe’s room for a nap.  Hoss’ mental and physical anguish had torn his father’s heart out. 

Hoss looked up from the wash basin, puzzled.  “I’m just washin’ up, Mr. Cartwright. “That nap really was what I needed.”

“Wonderful. That storm they were predicting all day is a regular deluge. Food will be here in a few minutes. The doorman said Adam and Faye are on their way up. How are you feeling? How’s your head, Hoss?” Ben made his voice as hearty as he could manage.

“What was that you called me?” Hoss smiled shyly and ducked his head to splash more cool water on his cheeks.

“Hoss.  It’s a mountain term for a big man, a friend. We use it back home,” Ben rushed to explain the slip of his tongue. That seemed to please “Heinrich Vandervoort” that his host would refer to him as a friend.

“Home? Where’s that? Nevada?”

Ben’s heart raced. Was his son’s memory returning? “You know we are from Nevada?”

“I think your son said…. …” Hoss tried to remember what his host’s younger son had said about where they were from. “When he was telling us about the beer he had bought this morning. The younger one. Joe? Didn’t he say you all were from Nevada? “

“Yes, Joe said that,” Ben was on the verge of saying something he could regret, when, thankfully, Hoss changed the subject.

“I’m sorry I’m takin’ so long. That storm woke me up. I was so comfortable just listening to that music and sipping lemonade hated to get up, but I sure didn’t want to be rude to you folks.”

“Oh, you weren’t rude,” Ben said from where he stood in the door.

“You folks were right. All I needed was to lie down in the air conditioning with some nice quiet music. I sure do like that CD. Andy Walker is one of my favorites.” 

“He is? “ Ben smiled. He handed his son a towel.

“Sure. For a long time,” Suddenly the lights flickered. The air conditioners stopped humming for a minute then resumed with a noisy clatter. From the other side of the apartment, Zsa Zsa barked a warning.

“We should go into the dining room and have some supper.  The Vandervoort are probably up and eager to be on the way.”

“Comin’, Mr. Cartwright.  Just let me finish wiping my face.” He neatly hung the fluffy towel from the bar near the sink as the lights flickered again, and the apartment was plunged into total darkness.

Without the music on the CD player and the rattle of the air conditioners, they could hear the sound of sirens in the street below. A pair of fire engines roared down the street; their lights reflected crazily in the mirror over the sink.

Chapter 2

“Oh great! Just what we need, a power failure! Ouch! Darn chair! I can’t see a thing!” The chair skidded across the polished wood floor and crashed into the wall with a loud thud as Joe stumbled his way through the shadowy dining room into the totally dark kitchen.

Zsa Zsa, the elderly poodle barked and ran off to hide under the guest room bed.

“This could be a good thing. It will keep the Vandervoorts here, at least until the rain lets up, and they can walk out to where their van is parked without getting soaked their skin,” Faye remarked. Adam and she were blindly searching the drawers and cabinets in the unfamiliar kitchen. “Joe, do you remember seeing any candles and matches or a flashlight?”

“Not offhand. Hey! I’ve got an idea!” Joe pulled his cell phone from his pocket and opened it. The light from the phone glowed green on his face. “Instant flashlight!”

Adam used the light from Joe’s phone to locate his own phone, which he had left on the breakfast bar. “I’ll use mine for a flashlight to find some candles and matches. Maybe we’ll have dinner by candlelight. Joe you take yours and round up everyone and bring them to the dining room. Faye, we’ll probably need yours, too.”

“I put Hoss’ phone in my room when he went to lie down. It’s open to that picture of Inger he keeps on there. I got it working enough that it turns on and stays on. That will give him and Pa some light in there even with all the scratches on the screen.”

“Him and Pa?”

“Yeah”, Joe answered Adam’s question. “Pa went in there right before you got back. I think he wanted to just be around Hoss, watch him sleep. He told me to stay out here, though.”

In the darkness, Adam smiled. “More likely he wasn’t quite sure what you would do, little brother.”

“Me?” Joe opened one of the lower cabinets. Some cast iron pots and pans tumbled out and crashed noisily to the tiled kitchen floor.

“Pa isn’t sure who you were going to side with: Pa taking Dr. Hickman’s plan or Ed Booth’s and my suggestions,” Adam explained.

Joe reassured Adam. “I’m with you. You know that.”

“Let’s hope for all of our sakes that our strategy works,” Adam shined his phone into the narrow cabinet next to the refrigerator. He felt uncomfortable ransacking a stranger’s home, but he had no choice. ““We seized our courage in both of our hands and made the decision for Hoss’ sake.”

“For Hoss’ sake, “Faye softly reminded the two brothers.

“For Hoss,” Adam whispered.

“Candles!” Joe shouted as he found some abandoned waxy tapers in the top of a cupboard. He waved them over his head. “All we need now is matches.”

“Ouch!” Faye shrieked as she caught her shin on the open dishwasher door. A clap of thunder rattled the windows.

“Voila!” Adam turned on a burner on the gas range and used the flame to ignite the candle.

Ben had followed Hoss into Joe’s room from the bathroom, chatting aimlessly, just to be near his son. He could hear the hub bub from the other side of the dark apartment as the others crashed about trying to find a means to light the place. Ben was concerned because the commotion and the storm seemed to be upsetting Hoss. Thunderstorms had never bothered the Hoss he knew, even as a child. A sharp flash of lightening and a deafening boom of thunder caused Hoss to close his eyes and cover his ears with his hands. The lights flickered on again for an instant and went out.

Ben noticed the unnatural electronic glow from the cell phone sitting open on the night stand. “Ah, we can use this for light.” He took a step towards it, his arm extended.

Hoss had seen the phone as well, but it was the image of the pretty blonde woman on the screen that attracted his eye, not the light. Both men reached at the same time, and scrabbling fingers knocked it to the hardwood floor. In the dark, Ben accidentally stepped on it, and they heard the screen crack.

Suddenly, all the lights came back on to reveal Hoss’ stricken face. He held the broken phone in his hand, staring at the crack across his mother’s face. “You ruined it. For years I’ve had this picture of my mother on every phone I’ve had. You ruined it. You stepped on my mother’s face!”

“Hoss, I….” A flash of lightning lit the room for an instant as rain rattled the windows.

“Pick it up. You pick it up now! “Hoss growled ominously. He pulled his arm back, his beefy fist aimed at Ben’s face.

Frozen in time and space, the blow stopped inches from the older man’s jaw. “Pa? I, I was going to hit you.”

“Why would I ….? ” He looked around the strange room. His legs were rubbery. “Where ….?”

Ben gently squeezed Hoss’ shoulder. “It’s all right, son. Everything is all right now.”

“But Pa, I almost hit you. I could have hurt you. That’s not all right. I never raised my hand to you. I‘m sorry, Pa.” Hoss was taken aback at what he almost did.

“It’s ok, son.“ Ben pulled Hoss down, and the two sat side by side on the rumpled bed. “Take my word for it, son. It is really all right.”

Hoss, confused about what he almost did, shook his head to clear it.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Ben asked gently. “Do you remember going to New York to visit Andy Walker and to see his play?”

“Is this Andy’s apartment? When did you get here?” Hoss asked, totally confused and disoriented. He looked around the unfamiliar room just as the air conditioners went back on.

There was a knock on the bedroom door followed by the entrance of Joe. “Dinner’s ready. Luckily, the electricity wasn’t off long. Feeling better, Heinrich?”

“Joe, you in New York too? Heinrich? That's a new one, Joseph. Where'd you get that? Who’s Heinrich? You fooling around, Joseph? My name is Hoss.” the words rushed out of his mouth in eager confusion.

Joe whooped, threw his arms around his husky brother and grabbed him in a bear hug as Adam rushed into the small bedroom. Faye Franklin lingered in the hall, joyously watching the reunion of Hoss with his family.

“Everyone’s here?” Suddenly the small, unfamiliar bedroom was jammed with jubilant people hugging and kissing. "What's going on? Adam? Faye?” Hoss asked, recognizing them as they ruffled his hair and pounded him on his back. Everyone’s here? What’s going on? Why are you all acting like crazy people?"

“We’ll explain in a little bit. Trust us, Hoss and everything will be all right,” Ben reassured him.

“Sure, if you say so, Pa. You know I trust you. I always did and always will.”

On the other side of the apartment, the Cartwrights heard the loud sound of the front door slamming. By the time all the Cartwrights and Faye made their way down the hall into the living room, it was completely vacant. The Vandervoorts had left without a word.

Chapter 3

WTC Victims List Revised

Three more names are being removed from the count after investigators concluded that the reports of their death were in error. In addition, one woman will be removed because her death was recorded twice, under her married and maiden names.

The city's original estimate of victims exceeded 6,700, due in part to the large volume of mistaken missing person reports.

Three more names have been removed from the World Trade Center victim list, according to the New York City medical examiner's office, after a New Jersey salesman, a newlywed Florida man, and a Nevada tourist reported missing were found to be alive.

The number of dead now stands at 2,795, but this figure is expected to fall further as investigators continue to wade through missing person reports.

Law enforcement officials say the people erroneously listed as victims are Lester Peterson of Camden NJ, Stanley Vildechaya of West Del Ray Beach, Florida and Eric Cartwright of Nevada.

The discovery comes almost a year after the three were listed as victims of the September 11th terror attacks.

In a telephone interview, Peterson said that he was "shocked" to find out his name was on the list. He added that his mother had reported him missing as she thought a hardware convention he was attending in Atlanta had been in Manhattan.

Stanley Vildechaya was reported missing by his in-laws when he did not return to his home in Florida from a visit to New York City. Instead, he had spent an extra week visiting Atlantic City after a tiff with his bride.

After months of confusion, Eric Cartwright was recently reunited with his thankful friends and family after he was discovered alive and well in NYC.

Epilogue

August 2003

Hoss Cartwright politely helped the middle aged blonde woman down from the cab of his truck.

Dr. Leiberman looked around her, taking in the distant mountains, the lush meadow and the pine forest. “Beautiful. It’s absolutely beautiful here, Hoss. I can see why you call it ‘Hoss Heaven’ and why you want to build a house here someday.”

“Yes, it is beautiful. You should see it in spring, filled with little yellow wildflowers, yellow bells.”

“Fritillaria pudica, I minored in botany, undergrad,” she explained when Hoss looked astonished at her comment. I bet it is extremely beautiful.”

Hoss smiled at her and continued his explanation. “Pa deeded this section over to me on my twenty-first birthday. Adam has a section of land, and Joe will get the deed to the land he chose in October, on his birthday.”

He leaned against the hood of his Chevy pickup truck. “I appreciate you taking me up on my invitation instead of us meeting in your office. “

“My pleasure, Hoss. It’s good to see you doing so well and to get to see the places you talk about in person,” Lillian Leiberman smiled. “Besides, it’s too nice a day to be stuck inside an office in Carson City when I can be out here.”

“We should have brought a picnic.” Hoss easily lifted two folding chairs out of the back of the truck and set them up under the shade of tree.

“Lemonade?” she offered taking a thermos from a canvas tote.

Hoss nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. We should have brought a picnic.”

“Another time. Tell me how things are going this week, Hoss,” she asked gently, bringing the conversation to the purpose of their meeting.

“I got a letter from Abby Jones. I hated the way it hurt her when I left, but she said in her letter that she sees that I was right. She’s dating: no steady guy, but she’s opening up, and she credits me with helping her get on with her life.”

“What else?” she took a sip of her lemonade. She set the plastic cup on top of a flat rock near her chair. “You’ve been back home almost a year now.”

“Bessie Sue and I are seeing each other. We’re taking it one day at a time. I kind of pressured her into the engagement a few years ago. I put the ring away and maybe, someday.”

“Maybe someday. That’s right, just take it slow. You have been through a lot and need to get your bearings before making any big changes in your life. But, it will come.

Hoss sighed and watched as a hawk slowly circled overhead in the bright blue, cloudless sky.

“What else? How are you sleeping?”

“Better now. For so many nights, I couldn't sleep. I thought of all the anguish Pa and Adam and Joe went through during the months I was missing. How they thought I was dead and gone. And how Bessie Sue and all the other folks who knew me must have grieved for a man who wasn’t really dead”

“Hoss, you didn’t purposely disappear or purposely set out to hurt them,” Lillian said gently. “You know that don’t you?

“I can’t take suffering away from them.” Hoss nodded. ”I know…. But it still sits in my head.”

“What else sits in your head? What else do you think about?”

“Well, yesterday when I was tending to some chores around the barn, I got thinking about Abbey and me, and how she lost her Roy and found me. You know, that poor gal fell for a passing stranger who wasn’t real and lost that guy too.”

“I know. Life isn’t always fair,” Dr. Leiberman poured her another cup of lemonade. “And at night?”

“Then, in the black of nights, I think of Mrs. Vandervoort and how desperately she must have loved her real son to do what she did to me and how much Mr. Vandervoort loved her to let her do what she did. But you know what the worst is, Ma’am? The thing that really keeps me from sleeping at night? Do you know what I remember?” Hoss took a sip of his lemonade and paused. Then he took another sip and looked out on his meadow.

Dr. Leiberman shook her head. “Hoss?’

“Late at night, when the house is real quiet and I can’t sleep, I remember the faces of the passing strangers. I see everyone going up the elevator that morning, the ones who never came home, ever, and I cry. I cry about them. I finally came home, and they didn’t. They never will. That’s what I remember of 9/11, Ma’am. I remember the people who never came home.”

THE END

AUGUST 2011

Thank you to Gwynne

for being our dedicated beta reader for all these months and pages.