by Lazuli

Part 4 ~ Why Did The Mountie Cross The Road?

It wasn’t the most restful night, Ray conceded at seven-thirty the next morning, when he dozily tipped himself out of bed. Despite being comfortable enough, and although he could rationalise with himself that there was probably nothing suspicious about this IRF at all, he’d unconsciously been on alert all night and woken at every sound.

There was also the issue of Ben’s nightmares. Horrifying on the outside, Ray couldn’t begin to guess what was happening inside Ben’s head at those moments. All he could do was gently rouse his friend until Ben rose from the depths of his terror, and quietly keep him company, whispering reassurance until he inevitably passed out again through exhaustion. It wouldn’t be long before the whole cycle would begin again, and Ray wondered if this was what Ben had been hesitant to subject Ray to when the question of his spending the night arose.

Now, while Ben slept on, peacefully at last, Ray took advantage of the facilities, showering and shaving before quietly going into the corridor and checking his phone. Nothing on Diefenbaker, but a long, gossipy voicemail from his mother. It made him smile. In his mind’s eye he could see her with the phone tucked into the crook of her neck, chatting away as she made breakfast. He’d share the message with Ben later because it was just so reassuringly normal.

He wondered about heading straight over to the car hire outlet, but hated the idea of Ben waking up without him – he’d probably never trust him again. It was a shame he couldn’t take Ben with him, as Ray was certain a bit of traffic-fresh air and new scenery would do him the world of good after being cooped up for weeks, but it was impossible until he’d swapped cars over; no way he was going to add any more stress to Ben’s life at present.

Back in the room, Ray relaxed on his bed and thought. There was so much to preoccupy him, but this morning his mind drifted to Lieutenant Welsh. Was there a chance that Welsh would know anything more about the accident or, could he find out more? Whatever he’d been told, Ray was certain it wasn’t about a moment’s lack of concentration and Benny being careless enough to take on a car or two single-handed. Super-Mountie he may be, but there were limitations.

There was also the consideration that the Lieutenant might be interested in Ray rejoining the 27^th when – not if but when – Ben had recovered from his present condition. It was a part of the ‘home from Florida, everything goes back to normal’ fantasy. Maybe being a cop in Florida hadn’t worked out, but here in Chicago, with Benny, that would change.

“Ray?”

“Hey, Benny.”

“Are we moving today, or did I dream that?”

“Not today, but before the weekend. Miriam leant on the people in charge to push this through but apparently they have to deep clean the bungalow first, and run through safety checks. Not sure how it’ll work out, but I’m assuming you have to go in an ambulance, then they dump you on the sidewalk and drive off with screeching tyres.” Ben chuckled at that. “Or you could be lucky and Alec will be in charge, then God knows where you’ll end up.”

“Can’t I go with you?”

“I doubt they’ll let you, not when they have rules saying the orderly has to stalk you back to your room.”

Ray stood up and crossed to Ben, tapping the hand that lay over his ribcage.

“You look a whole lot better today.”

“I needed the sleep.”

No mention of the nightmares. That was almost a relief.

“And now you need to eat. Can I go out and get you something?” Ben shook his head and closed his eyes. “Hey, where are you going?”

“I’m still here.”

“We need you bright eyed and bushy-tailed until we’re in the bungalow, then there’ll be no excuse for them to put a stop to it.”

“You won’t let that happen.”

Bemused by Ben’s faith in him, Ray patted the back of his hand once again before crossing to the window and raising the blind.

“Nice day,” he observed. “Have they taken you out at all since you’ve been here? There’s a garden out back, do they let you sit out there?”

And there was the shuddering breath that seemed to accompany any question that involved a break from this room. Between that and the tremors it was impossible to miss, Ray’s nerves were set jangling every time, it was… It was, Ray realised with a horrible sinking feeling, like the precursor to a panic attack, which would make sense of the following sharp, deep breaths which were a desperate method of control, drawing Ben back from the brink. Thinking back there had been something quite pointed about the way Doctor Elliott placed the information on PTSD at the top of the pile of paperwork she’d handed over and, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, Ray was beginning to accept that he needed to read up and fast.

“Benny?” he gently prompted.

“Outside, no,” Ben tried to sound as normal as possible. It was painful to hear. “I haven’t been receptive.”

Ray returned to the bed and wrapped his hand around Ben’s too bony right wrist, squeezing encouragingly.

“There’s a garden at the bungalow. Big paved area to make it accessible. I think you’d enjoy it if you gave it a try.”

“Is it enclosed?”

“The garden? Sure, it’s all fenced off.”

“How high?”

“Privacy height,” Ray guessed, going by the pictures he’d seen. He waited for Ben to comment further but, once his questions were answered, he fell silent once again and appeared to be concentrating on regulating his breathing. Ray gave his wrist a last squeeze and let him be.

Gathering up the components of the puzzle ball, Ray spent a frustrating twenty minutes trying to reassemble it before giving up, picking up the puzzle book and putting it back down in record time, then grabbing a magazine and browsing until the nurse and orderly combo made their appearance.

Ben took the bright eyed and bushy-tailed to heart, and engaged with them far more than usual. It was obvious how encouraged the nurse was by Ben’s demeanour, and Ray hoped that would be reported back to whoever was making a final sign off on the move.

When they asked Ray to leave so Ben could be washed and dressed, he checked with Ben before leaving them to it, and racing back to his hotel for a change of clothes.

While he was out, Ray once again used the opportunity to buy a bagful of ‘safe’ food for Ben, pretending that, as chips were potato and that’s a vegetable they were healthier, and popcorn was corn, ignoring the toffee coating which had absolutely no redeeming qualities at all, and chocolate was… Well, what could you say about that as an excuse? Cocoa beans, so…beans, and beans are legumes, so…healthy food!

Damn, all that lying – just as well he didn’t go to confession any more.

When he breathlessly rushed back into room twelve, Ben was sitting up, clearly waiting, and Ray was met with an expression that wavered between relief and recrimination.

“What?” Ray asked, instantly on alert.

Ben dismissed his concerns with a shake of the head.

“My problem.”

“No, what?”

“I… No.”

“You… Ah, you thought I wasn’t coming back. Here,” Ray dropped the bag of goodies on Ben’s lap. “That took my time. Benny, I’m always going to come back. I give you my word, as your friend, as a bowling alley entrepreneur, as a hardworking cop, and as a member of the mafia elite who has happily watched his empire crumble. Take your pick.”

“I did say it was my problem.”

“Can’t choose, huh? I’m not insulted.”

“I choose my friend. Always.”

It occurred to Ray to point out that Ben hadn’t always chosen this particular friend, but at least he could recognise when he was being ludicrously petty, and knew to keep his mouth shut.

“Well, good. And now you get some more choices.”

Ray gestured to the bag, and Ben rummaged.

“Thank you.”

“For the snacks, or for not asking questions about why they’re necessary?”

“You can ask questions.”

“Oh, that’s funny.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll be able to give you answers.”

“Interesting phrasing. I might need to get my notebook out and keep a record of future interrogations.”

Ben munched his way through a couple of bags of chips, and Ray wandered, once again examining the room and its contents. Lack of contents.

“You want a TV in here? I can get you a TV.”

“There was a TV. I got them to take it away.”

“Why? You must be bored out of your mind.”

“I need to hear what’s going on.”

Ray took that on board and processed it.

“When you’re lying there with your eyes closed, you’re not cutting out the world, you’re listening to it.”

Ben froze for a second, then carried on eating, but just picking now. No affirmation or denial, so Ray thought he’d got it right, but it threw up yet more questions.

“Want to tell me what…”

“If I think about it, I’ll be sick,” Ben interrupted. “You’d better take these away.”

Ray hurried to Ben’s side, not to remove the food, but to place a consoling hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, we’re not going there.” Ray couldn’t fail to notice the tremors beneath his palm. If he’d suspected for a second that this was a diversionary tactic, he’d been proven wrong. “Go somewhere better, think the beautiful thoughts.”

“Name something.”

“Tell me about your adventures with Kowalski of the North, chasing the hand of…who was it? Spencer Tracey?”

That ridiculous statement was enough to divert Ben.

“I assume your Canadian history is based on the movie?” he asked as he gave Ray an unexpectedly affectionate look, clearly appreciating the quality of the nonsensical sidetracking.

“Great movie, Northwest Passage. History with the advantage of not having to read a book.”

“Well, I doubt my adventures with Ray can live up to your expectations.”

Ray gestured at the chip bag in Ben’s lap, but Ben pushed it away, no longer able to stomach the contents.

“Is that right, you threw Ray out of a plane?”

Ben smiled at the memory.

“I did. Not indiscriminately. I knew he wouldn’t be harmed.”

“What if he’d landed on a polar bear?”

The smile broke into a chuckle.

“I believe we were geographically safe.”

“And he still went back with you after Chicago?”

“Ray and I travelled for a while. I had a wonderful time and he, in his own words, literally froze to death.”

“Weakling.”

“Indeed. It left him more than willing to return to Chicago at the first opportunity.”

“I remember loving the snow that much too.”

“That kind of environment is an acquired taste.”

“But you had fun?”

“I did.”

“How about Dief?” Ray asked casually.

“In his element, but you’d remember that.”

“If anyone was going to find Spencer Tracey it’d be the wolf.”

If Ray had been hoping for any kind of hint about Diefenbaker’s fate it wasn’t forthcoming; Ben just enjoyed the memory he’d stirred and volunteered nothing.

“Then what? Ray came home…”

“And I stayed in Canada for a while.”

“Being a proper Mountie?”

“Being a proper Mountie. Then an unfortunate situation arose at the Consulate and I was sent back to Chicago.”

“What was the situation?”

Ben drew breath to answer then paused.

“The new Inspector was charged with corruption.”

“You’re joking.”

“It was a difficult time. Very lonely.”

Ray didn’t quite know how to respond to that; he understood the loneliness too well, but maybe it was massively presumptuous to think he could have made anything better if he’d been around. He was still trying to figure out what to say when Ben pressed the call button.

“You okay?” Ray asked anxiously.

“Tired. I think I’ll rest a while.”

“I’m sorry I made you think about…”

“Don’t worry about it. Really.”

Ray stood back as a nurse and orderly came and helped Ben lay down, hating the moment when his old friend closed his eyes and shut him out again. The tentative plans Ray had mentally lined up fell apart. All he’d really wanted was to take Benny out for a walk in the fresh air, remind him the big wide world was still out there, rather than accepting how tiny his present world had become.

The bed Ray had used the previous night was still in the room, tidied and left in place in case it was needed until Ben left the IRF. Ray sat on it and watched Ben not sleep. Watched Ben listen. What was he listening for?

Who was he listening for? The person who stopped the food being safe to eat?

Removing his jacket and kicking off his shoes, Ray laid back and listened too. Everything was predictable, so normal, every single sound. He turned his head and saw the tension in Ben’s body as he pretended to rest. Tension and twitching. What was the twitching about? It had happened when the nurse was in the room and she’d ignored it, so it couldn’t be the biggest deal, but…

Ray had so many questions, and he suspected that every one risked making this situation worse.

…

It was Ray who dozed off for a while, and when he woke later, a single glance told him that Ben hadn’t moved a muscle in that time. Getting up and enjoying a stretch, Ray reconsidered the decision he’d made before he nodded off, promising himself he’d give Ben an easy time. He took a moment to flick through the pile of papers he’d accumulated, pulling out the leaflets on PTSD and skim reading the contents. Very, very close to home. How the hell did he make any of this better?

Maybe things would be very different when they moved into the bungalow, but maybe not, and could he bear to watch Ben wither away, all ambition and drive lost to circumstances? He’d have to be careful, certainly, but if he played too nicely, Ben wouldn’t be challenged at all, not with Miriam out of the picture.

The whole out-of-his-depth-ness of the situation reverberated around him, but if he was planning on getting it wrong, he might just as well get on with it.

“Benny?”

“Yes?”

“Want a drink?”

“Please.”

“Is there somewhere I can go to make some coffee, or do I have to rely on the staff?”

“I don’t know.”

Well, that made sense.

“I’ll be back in a minute, you okay with me going?”

“Of course.”

He didn’t sound okay, and that made Ray hesitate, but he couldn’t second guess everything, so he went to talk to whoever was on the reception.

Ten minutes later Ray was back, followed by an orderly who held a tray containing a kettle, mugs, and refreshment supplies. The orderly put a pint of milk in the currently unused medicine fridge, said hi and bye to Ben and, with a friendly smile, left them to it.

“He was a nice guy,” Ray observed, “I bet you hate him.”

“Can you reach the bed control?” Ben asked, ignoring Ray’s question entirely as he groped around to find out where the item in question had slid away to.

“Sure.”

Ray looked around until he found the controller buried beneath several pillows, and handed it to Ben, who immediately set the head of the bed to raise. Ray watched with surprise.

“Why do they go to the trouble of manhandling you when the bed can do that?”

“It’s not as comfortable, but it will do.”

“What can I do to help?”

“It’s really not—” Ben winced. “The pillows, remove them all then drop one back in if I sit forward.”

That was easy enough, but Ray had a moment of panic when Ben jerked himself forward using the grab rail over the bed.

“That looks painful.”

“No. I’m just not practised. I’ll be less awkward when I’m used to the process.”

“At the bungalow.”

“Yes. I’ll have no choice then and it’ll be a relief.”

That was interesting. Ray accepted what Ben said without the need to question it, basically because he didn’t want anything new to worry about. He made coffee and handed Ben’s over, seeing the suspicion, but then the resignation.

“Everything was sealed,” Ray reassured him.

Ben sighed with muted frustration at his own misgivings, and attempted a smile for Ray.

“Are you sure about this?”

“What, the coffee? I won’t die from instant.”

“No, I mean… I’m not going to be easy to live with.”

“So what? You’ve met my family, think you can be any worse than that?”

“Circumstances,” Ben said quietly.

“Temporary circumstances,” Ray corrected him.

Ben shrugged. They drank in companionable silence, but Ray couldn’t let Ben’s earlier comment about the Consulate go, and he gave in to the niggle.

“What you said about the Inspector at the Consulate?”

“It was resolved. There’s someone new there now.”

“What were they done for?”

“Embezzlement.”

“A lot?”

“Many tens of thousands.”

“And you had to get dragged away from home to stop the buck?”

“I was in charge for a while until a suitable replacement was found.”

“You enjoy that?”

Ben thought about it as he sipped his coffee.

“Sometimes. I missed the opportunity to get out and about.”

“Is that something you could do? Go back to work? I know a desk job isn’t what you want, but it would give you a sense of purpose until…”

“Have you seen how many stairs there are at the Consulate?”

The suggestion had immediately touched a nerve, but Ray realised that there was no going back.

“They must have an elevator.” Ben shrugged, instantly grumpy, and clearly not liking an answer that suggested a solution. “And ramps. If they don’t have ramps they should be in big trouble. The bowling alley was swarmed by officials making sure we installed all the right accessibility features. It certainly brought it home how bad things are for people in a chair. Guess I was lucky enough never to have to notice before.”

“You were lucky enough?”

“Yeah, it’s not all about you. Self-awareness is a necessary pain in the ass. You want me to harass the Consulate for you? It would be my pleasure.”

Something about Ray’s suggestion brought the ghost of a smile to Ben’s face.

“Come on, be honest,” Ray insisted. “That face means something.”

“Being honest…” Ben started slowly. “Of course there’s an elevator, which is perfectly accessible, and there are ramps at the rear of the building.”

“Why don’t I think it was that putting a smile on your face?”

“It was actually the thought of you being…well, you, but the vehement version that elevators and ramps have stirred up.”

“You bet, it was the bane of my existence for months in Florida – no way the Consulate should be getting away with anything.”

“And, being completely honest, as requested… It occurred to me that your approach would be…less than gentle.”

“Too right.”

“More on the lines of…completely obnoxious.” Ray laughed, not even attempting to deny the characterisation. “I miss that Ray,” Ben admitted.

“Oh, he’s still around. I may have laid back a little, but he’s there when I need him, and sometimes when I don’t. Particularly when I don’t.”

“I’m glad.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

The humour dissolved.

“I never wished for a desk job, I promise you that.”

Ray was already moving on.

“Maybe you should give it up. Try something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Ray stared hard at Ben. “Model? You’ve always had your fans.”

Ben gave a derisive huff of a laugh.

“Ridiculous.”

“You know what I’m saying. The women have always loved you.”

“But not like this.”

“Are you kidding? I bet you any amount of money that if we went to the mall you’d have a handful of numbers before we got back to the parking lot.”

“And what would I do with them?” Ben asked with heavy sarcasm.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, I would be making a point, and I’d win that bet. Might even get a few offers for myself, just for being the pretty boy’s minder.”

The pretty boy remark finally made Ben crack a smile.

“Pretty boy?”

“I’m registering that as a trademark before we put you out there.”

“You may need a re-think. I’m a little too old and un-pretty for that. You don’t want to fall foul of the Trade Commission for inaccurate advertising.”

“You look good, Benny. You always look good.”

Ray watched closely as Ben, apparently unconsciously, ran a hand over his wayward hair.

“Don’t even think of cutting that,” Ray warned.

Ben’s hand dropped and, abruptly, so did the armour he’d worn ever since Ray had arrived.

“None of it matters, Ray,” he admitted quietly. “Nothing matters.”

Ray was at Ben’s side in a second, not thinking twice before snatching up his hand and squeezing firmly.

“Everything matters,” Ray corrected. “And you know what really matters? You could have been dead. You could have died, Benny. Think I want to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it?”

Ray saw the swell of emotion that Ben forced down, but his eyes were glossy as they fixed on Ray.

“And it’s all about you, is it?”

“Well… Surely my caring trumps your not caring? I win.”

Ben wriggled his hand out of Ray’s grip.

“I think I need some time alone.”

“Not a chance.” The shock on Ben’s face at that lack of respect was totally worth it. “And now I’ve already pissed you off, can I ask you something?”

“I can hardly stop you.”

“Okay, if I ask you a question will you answer it?”

“Maybe. You can only try.”

There was a moment’s standoff as they stared challengingly at one another. Ray went for it.

“Who’s Ethan?” Ben stopped breathing. “Benny?” Taking a gulp of air, Ben vehemently shook his head. “Won’t tell me? Can’t tell me? Old villain? New sidekick? Dog sitter? Stetson polisher?”

“Stop it. You have to stop it.”

Ray did stop. Talking, that is. But he watched on uselessly as Ben struggled with his breathing, and the tremors, and felt it like a dagger to the gut when Ben didn’t want his comfort, moving his hand away before Ray could take it again. The upset abruptly turned to anger, Ray wanting to fix this and knowing he couldn’t without more information. Any information. He continued to stare at Ben as if the answer to all his questions was tattooed on his face.

“Benny…”

A last sharp gasp and Ben was focusing on him, glaring with a hostility Ray had rarely seen.

“It’s nothing that concerns you. It doesn’t even concern me anymore.”

“Sure. You look completely untroubled by the mention of that name,” Ray pointed out sarcastically.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you won’t tell me how you got into the state you were in. Because I’m scared that if I turn my back for a second you’ll be dead under someone’s wheels.”

“Ridiculous.”

“How did it happen?”

“What?”

“The accident.”

“I was hit by a car.”

“Yes, but what happened?”

“Why did the Mountie cross the road?”

“If you like.”

“Just like the chicken: to get to the other side.”

Ray hesitated.

“Which is cute until you finally realise what ‘other side’ that’s referring to.”

“You mean…”

“You know what I mean.”

“That wasn’t in my mind, no,” Ben confirmed.

“’Cause I’m now wondering, and I don’t like it. I don’t think of you like that.”

“Like what?”

“As someone who gives up. Look up ‘stoic’ in the dictionary and there’s a picture of you in your best hat.”

“But you’re now wondering.”

“Because apparently nothing matters. What you said, and I don’t know how far back that thinking goes, because something was going on.”

“Hmm,” was all Ben offered to that.

Ray waited for more, but it was obvious nothing was going to be volunteered easily.

“So… Why did the Mountie cross the road?”

“Maybe he was following a chicken?”

“Great. That’s worth dying for.”

“I’d’ve found a way to get in touch.”

“What? One knock for yes…”

“Two clucks for no.”

That raised a resentful smile, but Ray sighed and studied Ben for a long moment.

“Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Ray made a waving gesture that took in Ben’s current situation.

“Benny?”

“I wasn’t paying attention, that’s all. My mind was elsewhere, and all it took was a few seconds of…”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“I hope you’ll tell me when you’re ready. Then maybe we can start putting you right.”

“Or maybe you won’t be around that long.”

“When have I said I’m leaving? Never. You don’t get rid of me that easily. I’m not going anywhere unless you chase me out of town, and I don’t mean on wheels.”

Ben pushed himself back against the pillow and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, not that.”

“Yes, that. The doctor said there’s nothing…”

“She’s wrong,” Ben said emphatically. “I live in this body and I can tell you she’s wrong.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then you’re as delusional as her.”

“No. I have hope.”

“Well… Bully for you.”

Ray took a moment out for tempers to cool, all the time going over and over everything in his head.

“It’s too far out of character to be credible.”

“Maybe I changed while you were away.”

“I know you…”

“You knew me.”

“…and all of this stinks.”

“Okay, enough, I want you to leave now.”

“No, you don’t. You want me to stay so you can sleep at night. I want me to stay so you can sleep at night. I’ve let you down before but never again.”

The heat drained out of them at that admission, Ray nearly in tears and Ben back to shaking his head.

“You’ve never let me down.”

“You think?”

Ray turned his back on Ben, taking time to compose himself. As the silence crowded in, he made more coffee, offering Ben both bags of snacks before taking himself away to stare out of the window, seeing nothing but the mental picture of Ben going under a car for no apparent reason.

“Ray…”

Ray turned slowly back, and watched as Ben’s courage deserted him, and whatever admission had been on his lips slipped away.

“Yeah, Benny?”

There was a loaded pause, before:

“Can we have pizza tonight?”

“Sure,” Ray settled for that with half a smile. “Sure, we can have pizza.”

…

Late that evening, as they lay in the half light waiting for sleep to either take or abandon them, Ben returned to an earlier subject, just not the one Ray had been hoping for.

“Did you resent what you had to do at the bowling alley to make it wheelchair friendly?”

“Not for a minute. What made it a pain was the timing. We were badly advised and it meant undoing stuff that had already been done. Time and money were already stretched, so…” Ray let that trail off, knowing he’d explained enough.

“Did you get completely obnoxious?”

Ray chuckled.

“With bells on. You’d have been proud of me.”

“Were people in chairs able to use the lanes?”

“I don’t think we ever went far enough for that, but we had other facilities set up, ones that we were actually asked for.”

“Such as?”

“We put in a games room, for cards, dominoes, that kind of thing, and even a low pool table. We gutted what were originally the office spaces, opened the area up and made it easy to get into and move around.” A memory struck Ray and made him laugh. “One of the ramps in the building turned out a bit too steep so we tried roping it off, but once the Wheely Cools found it…”

“The Wheely Cools?”

“That was their club name. The Wheely Cools. Once they found this ramp we couldn’t keep them off it. I had this guy working for me, Gino, and twice a week he spent four hours on that ramp, pushing these thrill seeking idiots back up the ramp and to the games room, then doing it over and over again because they couldn’t stick to the house rules. I admit I did try it for myself and I got their point. Weird how a tiny degree of difference can turn the practical into a funfair ride. Gino was a good guy. Patience of a saint.”

“You made a games room just for them?”

“Not just for them, but they benefitted most.”

“I’m starting to understand better why you’re invested in my situation.”

“I’m invested in your situation because it’s your situation. I could have spent my Florida years as a bar bum and still come back the minute I knew you needed me.”

“I appreciate that.”

“This has reminded me: I need to get a few games for the bungalow. Anything but Monopoly. I had to cancel the Monopoly because it got too violent.”

“Did you ever play that at home?”

“The walls still have the scars.”

The good humour after a difficult day was not remarked upon but wholly appreciated. As both men silently sent their thanks to one another, the one thing they had no need for was more words.

The Lesser Distance 5       The Lesser Distance Index       Notes

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