by Lazuli

Part 3 ~ A Lesser Distance

First thing the next day, Ray was out with the lost dog flyers, taping them to trees and tacking them to fences and basically fixing them wherever they could be fixed in Ben’s old stomping ground. There was a small reward involved and the somewhat unrealistic hope was that it wouldn’t be enough to encourage grifters, but more than enough to persuade someone to come forward with genuine information. As he wandered, looking for appropriate posting sites, he came across several dog walkers and stopped every time to show them the picture of Diefenbaker and ask if they’d possibly seen him, but no luck.

Eventually empty handed, Ray threw up a prayer to whichever saint oversaw the planet’s four pawed individuals, and grimly recognised that he might be chasing a ghost.

Then, ready to face yet another battle, he headed for North Octavia Avenue. Naturally there was a great deal of telling off and recrimination to face for not regularly keeping in touch, but generally it was a loud and loving welcome back to Chicago. Ray told his family a little of Ben’s dilemma, playing everything down and not mentioning the paralysis, making it more about the absent wolf. No, they hadn’t seen Diefenbaker, but would keep a look out.

Tearing himself away was as difficult as expected, and fending off offers to come and ‘cheer Fraser up’ took a gargantuan amount of strength, deception and bloody-mindedness, but once back in the car, Ray breathed a sigh of relief and mentally crossed the visit off his list. Ma had his cell number now, and that left him both happy and resigned: the next twenty calls were not going to be about Dief!

Next, he drove back to the outlet that he had hired his car from, discussing a vehicle that was made to accommodate a wheelchair and disabled passenger. The staff were very helpful, and Ray would be able to swap vehicles the next day.

What else, Ray asked himself as he sat on the hire company’s forecourt. Snacks. Sealed snacks. If Benny was paranoid about the safety of the facility food then individually packed items that couldn’t be tampered with was the obvious way forward. And, yes, Ray did think paranoid when it came to Ben, because at present, what Miriam had said about their patient acting out of character was more logical than suspecting that healthy eating was in any way lethal. But if non-hospital fare and take-out was reassuring, then he’d go back to the IRF via a store packed to the rafters with heat sealed empty calories.

…

Ray was concerned at how late he was arriving at the IRF, but more concerned again when he went into room twelve and found Ben in his wheelchair, very obviously trying to stop a young man from pushing the chair to the door. The stress on Ben’s face, that fact he was visibly shaking, was enough to catapult Ray directly into overprotective anger.

“What the hell’s going on, where do you think you’re taking him?”

The orderly stopped pushing and looked more than a little surprised.

“Physio,” he offered as if it was obvious, which it possibly was.

“Were you told about this, Benny?”

“No.”

“And you’ve told him to stop.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re ignoring your patient,” Ray accused the orderly. “What’s your name?”

“I’m just trying to do my job.”

“What’s your name?”

“Alec Watson. And who are you, please?”

“Detective Ray Vecchio, advocate for Constable Fraser, happy with that?”

The words ‘detective’ and ‘constable’ predictably worked wonders; Alec fell still and automatically looked extremely self-conscious.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, Alec Watson, you need to take your hands off the chair.”

“I have to…”

“Haven’t you read this place’s own literature? I have, and I know you don’t just start pushing around someone in a chair without their consent. Look in the section about autonomy and respecting the individual.”

Ben actually looked impressed at that and began taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Yeah, umm… Sorry, sir.”

“You’re apologising to the wrong person,” Ray said with venom.

“Yes, sorry. Sorry, Mr— Constable Fraser, I wasn’t thinking, I was just told to get you to physio for a couple of checks so you could leave the unit.”

“Who authorised this?” Ray demanded, throwing his shopping into a lockable cabinet and pocketing the key before closing in on the orderly, who clumsily pulled a clipboard from the chair’s rear pocket.

“Doctor Elliott.”

“Let me see that.”

Alec flinched as Ray grabbed the clipboard from him. After rapidly checking the details and pulling out the necessary information with a trained eye, Ray was satisfied, and he smiled at Ben.

“You want to do this now? It’ll help get you out of here.”

“Yes, Ray. If you wouldn’t mind…?”

Ray brusquely waved the orderly ahead of them and took charge of the chair, following Alec along to a therapy room.

Ray sat and watched as one of the IRF’s physiotherapists put Ben through a few exercises, paying close attention as she ensured that Ben had the strength and correct technique to manoeuvre himself in and out of the chair, on and off of a bed, or a toilet, or a shower seat. Changing lower body clothes was a necessary skill that they worked on, Ray keenly observing and learning too. Alec sat a short distance away, throwing worried looks in Ray’s direction. Calmer now, and seeing Ben at ease with the woman he was working with, Ray offered a few sprigs of olive branch.

“That was harsher than it needed to be,” Ray stopped short of an apology – an acknowledgement of his irascible behaviour was the best anyone could hope for while he was so acutely protective of Ben.

“Lesson learnt, Detective. I’ve only been here a couple of months and that kind of mistake could cost me my job. Although…are you…?”

“No, I’m done, I’m not saying a word about it.”

“Thanks.”

“You can run along, I’ll see Benny back to his room.”

“Sorry, I have to do that. Or at least be with you when you do it.”

Ray nodded his disgruntled understanding. He didn’t need anyone standing over him and Ben, but he also didn’t want to cost the kid his job.

“So… Mr Fraser was a cop too?” Alec said with a slow nod.

“He still is,” Ray corrected. “The best.”

“Wow, this must be hard.”

“Shut up now,” Ray snapped, and Alec apologetically scooted to several chairs away.

He wasn’t wrong though, this was hard, and that was only from Ray’s perspective. Aside from the obvious, he could see that Ben didn’t have his usual strength, and that would take some building up. He only hoped it wasn’t necessary to stay at the IRF to do that. The bungalow was spacious, there’d be room for some equipment to help Ben regain a bit of muscle. He just… Ray had to get him out of here. Whatever the doctor wanted, he’d promise and follow through, because Miriam’s words had never left him for a moment. ‘I don’t think he’s going to get better in this place.’ And Benny had to get better. He had to.

Ben wheeled himself over to Ray at the end of the session, looking weary but satisfied.

“Ella Martinez,” the physiotherapist introduced herself, and Ray rose to shake her offered hand and introduce himself.

“How did you do?” Ray made sure to direct the question to Ben rather than over his head to Ella.

Ben however just gestured to Ella.

“I think Mr Fraser will be fine. He needs to build his upper body strength but his technique is already good. Ben, I’ll give you a set of exercises to carry out daily. Mr Vecchio, I’ll trust you to make sure he perseveres, even on the bad days.”

“You have my word,” Ray pledged, taking a pile of instruction sheets from Ella and dropping them on Ben’s lap.

A few more words of support from Ella, and Ben was already accepting Ray’s offer to push the chair back to room twelve when she cut in.

“Let Ben do it. Start as you mean to go on.”

Back in Ben’s room, Alec dismissed and door firmly shut, Ray took the exercise instructions and added them to the pile of other literature he’d accrued, before retrieving his shopping and handing it over.

“That should keep you going until we’re in the new place.”

“Thank you.”

Ben rummaged through the goodies and picked out a chocolate bar, scrutinising the wrapper before opening it and consuming it in three huge bites.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Ray asked. “Why you won’t eat their food, why you don’t trust the orderly?”

“No.”

“No, or not yet?”

Ben nodded, attention already back on the contents of the bag. Ray stood and wandered around the room, checking it out as if he’d been infected with Ben’s paranoia. His eyes dwelt on the card from Ethan, but moved on as he knew the answer to that question wouldn’t be forthcoming either. He couldn’t help speculating though and, going by Ben’s past record, he suspected this was someone he was trying to help out and then… Whatever it was that came crashing down, came crashing down? Ray sighed and moved on, noticing the dismantled puzzle ball on the nightstand.

“I’m assuming you’re not sleeping?”

Ben paused before conceding,

“It’s difficult.”

“You think you’ll do better when we move?”

Ray was alarmed by the series of tremors that went through Ben at the thought of change, and the sharp breaths he took in an attempt to keep them under control.

“How secure is the bungalow?” he eventually managed to ask.

“Very. I read through the specs. They’re designed for potentially vulnerable people, they’re made to be secure.”

“Then…maybe I’ll do better.”

“Maybe…” Ray mused.

“I will do better,” Ben confirmed, sounding a little more certain.

Ray nodded toward the remains of the puzzle ball.

“Think you can put that back together?”

“Probably. The nights are long.”

That hit Ray squarely in the gut. He couldn’t bear it.

“Want me to stay? They’ve probably got something they can bring in here that I can sleep on. Or I’ll manage with a chair, wouldn’t be the first time.”

The stare Ben fixed on Ray was unsettling. Damn, he wished he knew what was going through Ben’s mind. The answer was clearly going to be no. But a reluctant no, at a guess.

“You’ll never get better if you can’t sleep, that’s when you heal,” Ray lectured, before he let out an abrupt laugh. “Oh my God, I’ve turned into my mother.”

Ben smiled.

“I like your mother.”

“Yeah, me too. So…?”

Ben was clearly stuck debating the question with himself, so Ray provided the answer.

“Tell you what, I’ll talk to someone and see if they have a spare bed, then we have a choice later.” Ray waited to see if a response was coming: no. “This is when you get to tell me if you don’t want me here tonight. I can take it, just be honest.”

Not entirely sure if the ‘I can take it’ was true, Ray waited on tenterhooks.

“Stay,” Ben said, head down and speaking so quietly it was almost inaudible, but Ray took it and headed for the door, turning back as he got there.

“You, leave room for your dinner, we’re having Chinese.”

“Understood,” Ben agreed more brightly as he peered at the seal on the next candy bar.

…

That evening, after their Mountie-approved, paranoia-safe take-out, Ray sat in the visitor’s area while Ben went through his evening routine and was helped into fresh nightwear. He’d taken the puzzle book with him, impressed to see that Ben had found time to finish the crossword they’d started the previous day. One word was missing. Ray read the clue and thought hard, but he’d always found that if something didn’t immediately spring to mind it was a waste of time. He wandered over to the reception desk and greeted the attendant – Chantelle, her badge said – with a smile, and a wave of the book.

“Hi. ‘Accept something without protest’?”

“Acquiesce,” Chantelle came back immediately.

Not a Ben trait, no wonder he blanked on it. Ray checked the puzzle.

“Impressive. How do you spell…”

Chantelle gestured for Ray to give her the book, and she filled the solution in for him.

“That volume’s been around a while,” she grinned. “You can test me on all the answers.”

“So, puzzle two?”

“Oh, yeah, no, not that, not a clue,” she confirmed Ray’s previous observation. “But while you’re here…” Chantelle flicked through some papers and hand one over. “If you’d like to give that to Mr Fraser.”

Ray studied what he’d been given, and relief washed over him.

“He’s out of here by the end of the week?”

“Miriam pushed hard before she left.”

“Atta girl, Miriam. Thanks, Chantelle.”

The wait to get back into Ben’s room dragged on despite it only being ten more minutes, but every minute in this place felt too long. Once the nurse and orderly left, Ray was rapidly at Ben’s bedside.

“It’s me, open your eyes.” Ben did as he was asked, slowly blinking and taking a moment to focus. Ray was immediately on alert. “They give you something?”

“No, I’m just tired.”

“Before you go to sleep…” Ray held the paper up so Ben could read it. “We’re out of here.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Two, three days.”

Apparently feeling no need to concentrate on what he was being shown, not if Ray already had it covered, Ben closed his eyes again, but still didn’t come close to relaxing enough for sleep.

Re-reading the details on the paper, Ray punched the air, relieved and joyful and so completely oblivious to the scale of the challenge ahead.

Happy to be staying, and without needing further mental debate on the matter, Ray turned off the main light, kicked off his shoes and discarded his jacket, shirt and pants, before climbing onto the fold-up bed he’d been provided with and pulling over a blanket. Arms crossed behind his head, Ray stared at the ceiling and tried to envision this time next week. He thought he was ready for the responsibility but, as Miriam had said, he wouldn’t be alone in this, so that was reassuring. Or it would be if he didn’t suspect Ben would reject the helpers Miriam had mentioned as soon as possible while he was feeling so vulnerable. But some things Ray couldn’t do: he wasn’t a physiotherapist, he wouldn’t intrude on the intimate stuff, and he was so lacking in psychiatric understanding it would be laughable in this situation if the circumstances weren’t so dire.

The pictures he’d seen of the bungalow showed a very stark, clinical appearance, and he wondered if he’d be allowed to slap a cheerful coat of paint on some of the glaringly white walls. Maybe he could have a mural put up. He’d seen them advertised, maybe he could bring the snowscapes and forests of Canada into their home. Or would that be too brutal a reminder of what Ben had lost? Ray tried to imagine how this would be if it was him confined to a chair. Didn’t work, he’d probably be content with a TV and a mini fridge, and someone to take him for a joy ride once a fortnight. Not Benny. Benny needed to roam free, his heart had already been captured for too long by the cage that was Chicago.

Which led to – thinking positive now – where did they go on vacation this year? Such a mundane, run of the mill question, and one maybe better suited to— Yeah, it was Ray Kowalski that Ben had chosen to take the trip of a lifetime with.

Stupid idea anyway. Ben was facing a life of limitations and Ray was hoping to perk him up with two weeks in Hawaii.

“Ray?”

“Yeah, Benny?”

“I can hear you grinding your teeth.”

“Sorry.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“You don’t want to know. Why aren’t you asleep? I’m here, you can relax, nothing’s going to happen.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Okay.” Ray turned on his side to face Ben, just able to make out his features in the dim secondary light. “What do you usually do at night?”

“Think.”

“Jeez, you don’t want to be doing that, you need trash TV, comic books, paint by numbers, I don’t know, but it’s not surprising you can’t sleep if you keep thinking.”

“Am I keeping you awake? Perhaps you should go and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Is that actually what you want to say?”

There was a substantial pause before,

“No,” came the soft answer.

“I’ll be here. You try to get to sleep.”

“Talk to me.”

“What about?”

“Tell me what happened after Chicago.”

“Oh, you want me to bore you to sleep. You only had to ask.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“No?”

“I’ve missed your voice.”

Ray’s heart pounded at that confession. And…there was the guilt. Always.

“I’ve missed you too. All the time.”

Silence ensued. Ray pretended it was thinking time. Where to start?

“I realise some of this sounds pretty pathetic, are you sure you want to go there?”

“Yes.”

“But, for the sake of my dignity…?”

“Still yes.”

“Nothing new there. Okay. Well then… Am I allowed to lie to save face?”

“No.”

“You’ve dropped the considerate Canadian façade then?”

“I’ve heard so many lies, Ray. You’ve always been honest with me.”

“Lies in the past or now?” No answer. “It’s not a lie if your doctor tells you there’s every chance you’ll recover from this. You’re in shock and you’re giving up, and that’s not you, Benny, you don’t give up. You want to hear that this is it, the chair is it, and somehow it’s just easier to accept this shit? I promise you, I’m not going to let you give up, and I’m not lying when I say I think you can get through this.” Still no response. “You scared to hear that? Or to start believing it?”

“Don’t, Ray. Not now.”

Realising he was being cruel, and not necessarily in a cruel to be kind way, Ray backed down.

“Yeah, I guess we’ve got time.”

This time the silence was extended, Ray wondering if Ben had managed to drop off to sleep despite being wound up over his situation. Ray could’ve kicked himself: there was a time and place for that particular conversation and this was not it. He wanted to say sorry, but that might disturb Ben if he was finally starting to doze.

“Talk to me,” came Ben’s voice out of the darkness.

“Okay… After Chicago…” Ray considered: he didn’t have to mention Ben leaving with Kowalski, so his complicated and rather petulant reaction to that could be skipped entirely, which was a relief. “I don’t know what you know, and what you don’t,” Ray explained his hesitation.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You can tell me to move on at any point, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, you know that, after I was shot, I got pensioned off, but I coughed up the bullet?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’d been talking to Stella, and we hit it off, and… Everything was shifting, nothing was going to be the same again. I was fighting off Armando in my head, and… Strange time. It’s hard to explain, what it was like coming back after Vegas.”

“Must have been difficult.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. Being undercover… It’s not like the movies, I can tell you that. There were a few close calls, sometimes I could only keep going ‘cause certain people disappeared, and it shouldn’t have played on my conscience because these were not good men, but sometimes it really did. The act was easy to keep up during the day, anyone questions a guy like Armando and they’re automatically shut down. But late at night, when it was just me and a very expensive security system… Anyway, that’s not what you were asking about.”

“I don’t mind. If it helps to talk.”

“Now you sound like Stella,” Ray smiled.

Ben didn’t have an answer for that, and on this subject Ray wasn’t surprised. From Stella’s own accounts, there had been, politely put, a degree of strain in the relationship between her, the Mountie, and her then ex husband. Even now it made Ray smile because, even if he felt a degree of sympathy for Ray Kowalski, he knew firsthand how infuriating Benny could be at times.

“Anyway, I was not in the best place, she saw I was struggling, and then she announces she’s ready to try something new and also put some distance between her and Ray, so that’s when the idea of a move to Florida came up. It started as a joke over coffee, then suddenly it’s happening. We’re looking at real estate, and there’s a bowling alley for sale for pennies, a real money pit, and we’re laughing about anyone being stupid enough to take it on, and we just looked at each other, and those stupid people turned out to be us.

“We both had some money saved up so we didn’t need a loan, just bought the flea pit outright and spent the first few months with our heads in our hands, wailing ‘what have we done?’. But once we got it refurbished and cleaned and decorated, it looked really cool. We’d gone full retro and it was a sight to behold. I’ll have to show you some photos.” Ray paused, then asked softly, “You still awake, Benny?”

“Yes.”

“Bored enough yet?”

“No.”

“Could you go to sleep if I tried boring you very quietly?”

“No.”

“We started to make money on novelty value alone, but then I noticed some cops coming in and playing in teams. Obviously we got talking, and their station was only a few blocks away, so I thought about putting on a tournament for them. They raised six teams, we made it a big deal one weekend, and it pulled in so many people that we made more in two nights than we had for the entire previous month.

“So I had this idea of contacting as many other precincts that were close enough to make the trip, and organising a tournament for them all. It took off like wildfire, and it spread as fast. Suddenly there’s fire station teams wanting a piece of the action, hospital and emergency staff, you name it. The place became a gold mine. But in the middle of this, Stella and me realised we were great friends and business partners, but didn’t really connect romantically after the honeymoon period had passed.”

“You got married?”

“No, just a saying. And you have to know some of what happened around that time. One day she comes to me, and tells me that, without the stress of her old job, she’s had time to think, her body clock is ticking away, and she wants a baby. I knew before she said another word that it wasn’t me she wanted it with. On that score, the happy family scenario, it was always going to be her and Ray. She was in the office when she made that call to him, and I was trying not to watch, but still watching through the window, and she’s crying with joy over the second chance they were getting. Well, seeing her like that, I couldn’t be mad, or sad, and I let her go without a scuffle, let alone a fight.

“So that’s that side of after Chicago done. They get back together, clearly started trying for that first baby the second she got off the plane, ‘cause now Ray’s stupidly happy at home with the kids, and Stella’s gone back to work for the big bucks.”

“She did love her job.”

“Funny how it all worked out.”

“Time and distance don’t matter if people are really meant to be together.”

“I guess you’re right,” Ray agreed before cautiously asking, “You think I was meant to be here? With you?”

“Yes,” Ben answered unequivocally.

“That’s good to know. I’m just sorry I was gone for so long.”

“Everything did shift. But what was right at the time didn’t stay right.”

“And I put myself too far away to help…I d’know…unshift.”

“There’s distance. And there’s a lesser distance. Even with miles between us, ours was always a lesser distance.”

Ray’s mind filled with questions, but it was late, and he had to shut down that line of thinking if either of them were to get some sleep that night.

“Tired?” Ray asked.

“Yes.”

“Sleepy?”

“No.”

“Okay, where was I?”

“I suspect you were about to tell me that when the police officers walked out of the bowling alley, you wanted to go with them.”

Ray leant up on one elbow and stared hard at Ben.

“How…? Oh, I should be used to it.” With a chuckle he laid back down. “Yes, they went back to the work I wished I was still doing, and it ate away at me. Without Stella there, it was lonely, and I felt like I was wasting myself, throwing away what I was good at. To be honest, it felt as fake a life as being Armando Langoustini. So I got talking to one of the detectives, and he put me in touch with his Lieutenant, and she agreed that I could come in for an interview and see where it went from there.

“Before I was offered anything I’d already made up my mind to sell the bowling alley. It’d been worth it, that place had been like therapy after the undercover work. I got to be myself, not Armando, not Ray the cop, there were no expectations other than the obvious, no outside pressure, no cases to solve, no watching scumbags get away with all kinds of shit. But I was at my best in the early days when the bowling alley was hard, hands-on work, and there wasn’t time to dwell on the past. But as everything got easier, you’re right, I did want to go back to work with the cops when they walked out.

“So I sold up and made a mint, settled up with Stella, and then I was a cop again. In completely the wrong place. Half the work in Florida is missing wives and husbands, who are usually discovered in a motel with someone else’s missing wife or husband. It wasn’t where I belonged, and I realised I’d been missing you, working with you, more than missing the actual work. It was tedious. Empty. I didn’t know how to come home, then Miriam showed up like a scowling, angry angel and showed me the way. Until then I couldn’t admit to myself what I was empty of.” Ray hesitated, nervous to ask, “Do you mind me saying this?”

“No.”

“Funny what you can say in the dark,” Ray observed.

“Or what you can’t say at all.”

“Benny?”

“No matter.”

Ray wasn’t sure where to go with that, so stayed quiet and thoughtful for a while. But every thought wound its way back to Ben. Peering through the dark, Ray tried to ascertain whether Ben had slipped off to sleep. As if he could feel Ray looking, Ben’s head turned in his direction.

“Think you can sleep now?” Ray asked.

“Maybe.”

“You fell asleep when I was shaving you, want some sweet barber action to send you off?”

“No,” Ben replied with a chuckle in his voice.

Ray didn’t want to ask the question, but he had to ask the question:

“Benny… Did I say too much? About why I wanted to come home?”

“No. You said exactly what I needed to hear.”

The Lesser Distance 4       The Lesser Distance Index       Notes

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