Page 29 of Blessings in Disguise

“Hello. I’m Dr. Paxton Barry. I run the Main Street Clinic in Syracuse.” Caleb pressed the speaker button and placed the phone on the table. “The police found a boy in an alley near here. They brought him to us. He had your card with your number on it in his backpack.”

“Is it Harlan Ford? We’ve been frantic about him.”

“It is. And you were right to worry. The boy’s in bad shape.”

“Could you explain that?”

“Physically. And mentally, too. Dr. Shepherd, he slit his wrists. Luckily, we got to him in time.”

Gemma gasped.

Jackson spun around.

And Caleb went into counselor mode.

* * *

Gemma’s heart was pounding when the three of them climbed into a Pathways van and headed to the thruway. She sat up front with Jackson but was aware of Caleb in the back.

Jackson reached over and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix this.”

“I hope we have another chance with him.”

From the rear, Caleb squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t buy trouble, honey.”

“Thank you, both.” She took in a deep breath. The support helped.

They got off at the first exit to Syracuse and headed straight downtown. The streets got rougher and rougher, the buildings shabbier and shabbier. Men and women hung out on the street corners.

“How on earth did he end up here?” Gemma asked softly.

“It was good luck that he did,” Jackson answered. “He got help here.”

They parked the van in front of a building. A shabby sign hung over a door. It said simply,Clinic.

They rushed inside and found a packed waiting room with people squeezed into seats and standing against walls. A child cried softly in his mother’s arms. A bent-over man hacked withcough. One teenager moaned. They were all wearing masks, which were probably required.

Jackson approached the desk. A nurse in a white uniform looked up at them. Her eyes were tired and her shoulders slumped.

“Hello. I’m Caleb Shepherd. I got a call from Dr. Barry. One of our students was brought in here. Harlan Ford.”

Her eyes flashed with worry. She picked up the phone. “Dr. Barry. The people to see Harlan Ford are here.” When she hung up she moved to a door at the left, opened it and said, “Go right in.”

They walked into a treatment area that smelled like blood and sickness. It, too, was crowded with stalls full of people. Jackson called out, “Dr. Barry?”

A man walked out of one of the curtained areas. He was tall and fit with a shock of thick hair. But his face was lined with concern. “I’m Pax.”

“We’re from Pathways,” Caleb told him.

“Come with me.” He moved down three stalls and drew aside the curtain. A woman in street clothes stood from the chair where she was seated next to the bed. “Hello.”

“How’s our patient?” Dr. Barry asked.

Harlan lay still. His face nearly matched the color of the sheets. Starker white gauze was wrapped around his wrists and an IV was attached to his arm. Gemma stumbled as she got closer. Caleb was at her side in moments. He let her lean on him. “He’s alive, Gemma.”

“He looks dead,” she whispered.

“He’s not,” Jackson put in firmly. He turned to the doctor. “What more can you tell us?”

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