| Changed Forever |
| Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story; I have just invited them into my imagination, and this story was the result. While stopping off in my mind, Gi, Kwame, Linka, and Ma-Ti were provided with surnames while Wheeler had been given a first name (based on the disclosure of his first initial in �Greed Is the Word�). This is my tribute to those touched by the attacks of September 11. Tuesday, September 11, 2001 It was another quiet morning on Hope Island, and there were no pressing problems or Eco-Emergencies to deal with that anyone knew of. The sun rose and baked the sandy beaches and lit up an azure-blue sky that was sprinkled with small, puffy, white clouds. Gentle breezes stroked the landscape and caused the bird-shaped wind chimes to ring outside Linka�s bedroom window. The day was the picture of peace, and the morning looked as if it should be recreated inside a glass globe in which sparkles flutter about when shaken. By 8:30 a.m., Linka Pyatikova, Gi Zang, Kwame Shaa, and Ma-Ti Kwevas had awoken and started to cook breakfast. The great room smelled of bacon and eggs, increasing the appetites of the four hungry youths. In the background, a 19-inch color television had been tuned into a Miami station that had brought the Today Show into their living area. �The eggs are just about done,� Gi announced as she scooped the yellow food onto her spatula and flipped them over. �I would say about five more minutes.� �Hold it a minute,� Kwame said as he set five plates next to the stove, �Wheeler is not up yet. Should we not wait for him?� �It is his own fault he over slept,� Linka said, scooping the bacon onto a serving plate that was covered with a paper towel. �Nobody told him to stay up until after midnight cooking CD�s.� �You mean �burning� CD�s, Linka,� Ma-Ti corrected as he set orange juice glasses onto the table. �He really loves it . . . almost as much as he loves to make films." �That�s true.� Gi added, �Getting him that burner for his birthday was the best idea we ever had. It was just what he needed to get interested in using a computer.� �Maybe he is up now,� Ma-Ti said as he decided to change the subject, not only because he did not want to see his friend miss breakfast, but because he was terribly hungry as well. �I will go and see if he is ready to come out and eat with us.� �If he is not, we will leave some eggs and bacon on the stove, and he can heat them up when he is ready, �Linka offered as she flipped the stove control into the off position. The tantalizing aroma of the morning meal faded as Ma-Ti made his way through the open doorway and down the pathway where the five residential huts could be found. The girls� homes were to the left and were joined by a common bath, and Kwame and Ma-Ti�s were to the right, also with an adjoining bath. The larger hut at the foot of the path was Wheeler�s, and he had a private bath. He had gotten his own bath because he was the only one who always played a radio while in the shower. �Wheeler,� Ma-Ti called as he rapped on the closed door, �we are ready to eat now, are you coming out yet?� There was silence, not even the sound of an alarm clock or hustling feet scrambling on the wood floor. �Wheeler, are you awake?� Ma-Ti quietly opened the door and tiptoed inside the darkened room. The window shade was drawn to keep the morning sun from streaming in and falling upon Wheeler�s pillow. The doorway had provided enough light to prevent Ma-Ti from running into the bookcase that was used as a makeshift entertainment center. He crept past the center and computer desk before making it to the bed where the slumbering Jessie Wheeler lay, too tired to snore. With a gentle hand, Ma-Ti tapped the blanket wrapped form until movement broke the silence. �Huh?� Wheeler weakly yawned, still half asleep. �We have breakfast on the table in the common room, and everyone is ready to eat,� Ma-Ti whispered, looking down and meeting the blue eyes that appeared as slim slits of fatigue. �. . . Gimme time to brush my teeth and get dressed,� Wheeler croaked, freeing himself from the cocoon of baby blue sheets and gold, striped comforter and awkwardly coming to a sitting position. Slightly disappointed at having to return to the table without the redhead who had been his surrogate big brother, Ma-Ti sighed, �. . . We will leave your food on the stove, and you can warm it up.� With that, he stepped out, leaving Wheeler to get ready in private. In her own hut, Gaia found herself in the perplexed state of mind that had been bugging her since that past Sunday. She had a feeling that something was wrong, but she could not put her finger on it. The Eco-Villains did not appear to be up to anything as far as she could tell, and human ignorance was not looking like an inadvertent threat either. What was wrong? All Gaia knew was that it was an uneasy feeling that after this day, life would be changed forever and that the day�s events could possibly touch one or several of the Planeteers very deeply. In the middle of the night, she had sneaked into each Planeteer�s hut and drew the power from their rings in order to call Captain Planet herself. She had summoned the superhero on the beach and told him that she needed him to stay very close to the Planeteers that morning. Cap had just finished bathing in the ocean when he came to the Planeteers� common hut that housed their kitchen/living room and peeked in through the open window at the four, who were eating and talking among themselves. �Everything looks normal,� he mumbled to himself, shaking his head in confusion. �I don�t know why Gaia wanted me to keep my eye on them.� He listened to them talking about past eco-missions or plans for their next vacation. Noticing the empty chair between Linka and Kwame, he observed, �Hmmm, I guess Wheeler overslept again.� Suddenly, his heart power told him to enter after he caught the looks of shock worn by the news anchors on the television. He ran in, not caring if he disturbed his friends� casual conversation. �Planeteers!� Cap shouted as he burst in and turned up the volume on the TV set, "I think you�d better see this!� The five watched in paralyzing horror as the reporters described something that had previously been unthinkable � a terrorist attack on the United States. For a few minutes they were rendered speechless, and they wanted to deny the veracity of these accounts. The United States had always been seen as a super power that could not be hurt. Now, the dazed nation had received a horrible wake up call from its complacency. It did not seem like reality to them, but it did not seem unreal either; nobody knew what to think. �Bozhe moy . . .� Linka gasped, her eyes widening to the point where she did not dare to blink, �this is terrible.� �It looks like something from a horror movie,� was all Gi could think to say. �. . . All those people . . . �Kwame muttered, �in the buildings and the airplanes . . . How could this happen?� Cap just stood silently, brushing a single tear from his right eye with one finger and letting out a heavy sigh. Unable to comment on the horrific events covered on the news program, Ma-Ti simply said, �Wheeler . . . Does he know yet?� �He may have friends or family that . . . �Gi failed to finish her sentence. �Does he not play a radio in the bathroom when he is shaving or brushing his teeth?� Linka said as she brought up the possibility that Wheeler already knew what was happening and that he may not be taking it well. In his hut, Wheeler was throwing on a pair of jeans, a red T-shirt with the Planeteer logo on it, and a denim vest when he noticed it was too quiet. The oscillating floor fan provided a steady hum that was easily tuned out, and his window was too far from the beach to invite the sounds of roaring waves into the room. Stepping into the bathroom to switch on the NOAA weather radio, shave, and brush his teeth, he was bothered by an eerie and uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong. He turned up the volume, and a fuzzy radio station faded in . . . Wheeler tolerated the static that played over this small radio as long as a good song was playing. �What the . . . �he mumbled as he discovered his 80�s music had been replaced by news coverage. �I never listen to talk radio.� He fumbled with the tuner and found that talk radio had overtaken every station he pulled in. He snapped the radio off, quickly brushed his teeth, shaved, and ran to his bookcase where he reached for the remote that would activate his 13-inch TV/VCR combo. As the attacks were unfolding on the screen, Wheeler stood staring at the pictures and stories that either didn�t sink in with him or floated through a mind in shock. When he heard the reporter say that it was the World Trade Center that had been attacked, he froze, his mouth dropping open. Cap had darted from the common hut when he heard the other Planeteers voicing their concern for Wheeler and how he would be taking the news... He had nearly approached the pyro-youth�s hut when he heard a scream coming from the open window. �Nooooo!� Wheeler cried out. �This can�t be happening!� Cap threw Wheeler�s door wide open and rushed in to find the 27-year-old standing in front of the TV shaking and breathing shallowly. �Wheeler . . . �the hero said with fatherly tones in his voice. The fact that Cap was there without having been summoned did not register with the panicked Wheeler. �Cap . . . Tell me this isn�t real,� he begged, �Tell me this is Planet Vision. We�re having an Eco-Emergency, and Gaia patched the Planet Vision through to my TV!� Seeing the somber look on Cap�s face and feeling the warm hand rest on his right shoulder, Wheeler felt his heart sink. �No. No! No . . . please, God, No! This isn�t real! Tell me this isn�t real! This can�t be happening!� With that, he fell into Cap�s arms, his body convulsing with every hiccupping sob. �Let it out, son,� Cap comforted the boy who had looked to him as a second father, �Let it all out.� As Wheeler�s crying spell worsened, the blue-skinned superhero tightened his embrace, all the time wishing he could draw the despair and sadness out of the grief-stricken Planeteer. Not wanting to watch the continuing coverage, the other four Planeteers stood outside Wheeler�s hut and listened to the cries that cut through the air. The sounds of Wheeler�s wails reached into their chests and squeezed their hearts. They had always seen him as the tough one, showing no vulnerability and providing comical remarks on eco-missions. The tragedy had brought out a side of the New Yorker that had never been revealed before, and the sight of a strong street kid going to pieces like that was even more heartbreaking than the continuing coverage of the attacks. �I think we had better help him,� Ma-Ti said with a quivering voice as he choked down a lump that had formed in his throat. �I think it would be best if we let him be for now,� Kwame softly said, also feeling he should be there for his comrade but realizing it may not be his place. �It may make things even more uncomfortable for him if we all run in there.� �Da,� Linka shrugged and nodded her head, wrapping one arm around the South American boy�s shoulders, �Captain Planet is with him . . . � Before the Russian blonde could say another word, Gaia quickly appeared to the young twenty-somethings. �Planeteers, I need you in the Crystal Chamber now!� she ordered. �But we cannot stop the �� Linka began. �Now!� Gaia repeated as she whizzed off toward her hut. The Planeteers turned and sped toward Gaia�s hut. They ran faster that morning than they had ever run before, and they were half-winded by the time they stopped before the Crystal Chamber. �I�m sure you noticed Captain Planet was here this morning without your having to call him.� The spirit began as she appeared to the right of the large crystal called Planet Vision. �I have had a very unsettling feeling for the past several days that something was horribly wrong. As you slept, I used your powers and called Captain Planet because something told me he would be needed right here at home.� Waving a hand in front of the large crystal, she activated a holographic image of the news reports that were being broadcast on television. �I don�t need to tell you that the United States has come under attack, but what you don�t know is that Wheeler�s Aunt Debbie and old school chum Trevor both work in the World Trade Center in the south tower.� �Does anyone know if they are all right?� Ma-Ti queried, his eyes darkening as he thought of the possibility that both people were among the casualties who could be lost beneath piles of debris or in monstrous flames. �I�m afraid I don�t know, Ma-Ti,� Gaia shook her head slowly from side to side. �It was the north tower that was hit, but I don�t know if the people in the south tower are evacuating or staying put because their building is still intact.� �Gaia!� Linka suddenly cried, "what about Wheeler�s parents! You do not think . . ." She cut off her own sentence because she did not want to hear herself bringing up the possibility that Wheeler could be orphaned. �I don�t think anything has happened to them,� Gaia explained. �They normally would go to Debbie�s office and drink coffee together before they had to go to work themselves. When the plane hit the north tower, the first thing I did was check Wheeler�s old neighborhood to see if his parents were there . . .Fortunately they hadn�t left their apartment yet.� �I still do not understand . . .� Kwame said sadly, his eyes fixed to the images playing out before him, �what could push a person to do such a horrible thing? These are harmless people just doing their jobs or trying to get somewhere on airlines. They were not a threat to anyone . . . so many innocent lives lost.� As quickly as the attack had changed the lives of not only those directly involved but also those who witnessed it on TV, Ma-Ti interrupted the conversation. �Gaia!� he blurted out with urgency in his voice, totally enveloped in a dark feeling he could not shake. � . . . Something is wrong! I can feel it . . . even without my power, I can feel . . .� With the wave of her hand, Gaia changed the image on Planet Vision, and breaking news flashed in front of her and the four eco-activists. Five pairs of eyes spilled tears and grew increasingly wide with every second as they watched the airplane fly directly into the second Twin Tower. �Gaia!� Linka exclaimed in shock, �The south tower . . . That is where wheeler�s friend and aunt . . . � �Maybe they have time to get out,� Gi said, trying hard to convince herself as well as those around her. �They might not work on the floors that were hit . . .If they are near the ground floor, they should be able to get to safety.� �I�m afraid, I don�t know where they are, Gi,� Gaia countered, her eyes becoming puffy and red from the salty drops. �We may not know if they�re all right for a while.� �I just hope Wheeler is not seeing this,� Kwame sighed. �Then we must make sure he does not see this!� Ma-Ti held his right hand to his forehead and said, �Heart.� He focused his thoughts on his pet spider monkey, �Suchi . . . run into wheeler�s hut and make him chase you out,� He silently commanded. Suchi dropped the fallen palm frawn he had been playing with looked around for a second or two and ran to the residential huts. A repeated order prompted the little primate to run into the only room whose door was still open � Wheeler�s. Inside, Wheeler�s cries had quieted down, and he just shook in Cap�s arms. Whether both he and Cap had seen the second tower coming under attack or whether both had remained oblivious to the TV playing in the background was not known. As if he had consumed an entire container of Mexican jumping beans, Suchi ran in and danced around the pair, still in their embrace. �Suchi!� Cap scolded, �This is no time for games! Outside!� When the monkey continued his annoying activity, Cap loosened his hold on Wheeler and shouted, pointing to the doorway, �Go outside!� Tempted by a colorful object sitting on the dresser, Suchi ran over and grabbed it. He then darted outside with Wheeler�s purple, red and blue sports bottle. �Hey . . . why you . . . � Wheeler called out as he gave chase, his voice raspy from the sobbing that still left his eyes sticky and his throat sore, �Gimme that back, Suchi!� When the hut was empty, Linka, Gi, Ma-Ti, and Kwame peeked around the corner from behind Gi�s hut. They exchanged winks, and Gi headed into her American compadre�s home and emerged a moment later with a set of TV antennas in her hands. �I unplugged the set and took these,� she explained as she held up the rabbit ears. �He�ll figure out the plug is pulled and reconnect it, but he won�t be able to do anything except play his videos. He�ll have to come to us if he wants to get a signal again.� �Does he not have two radios in there?� Linka inquired, remembering the portable stereo and weather radio. �He should not hear the news reports right now, especially if there is a chance something may have happened to his friend and aunt.� �I deprogrammed the stereo�s radio stations and took the batteries out of the remote.� Gi retrieved two AA batteries from her pocket. �I don�t know what to do about the weather radio he keeps in the bathroom.� �We cannot keep him completely away from the news,� Kwame pointed out. �Sooner or later he has to know the truth� �You saw how he took it when he watched the first attack,� Gi told her African friend. �What makes you think he would be able to handle seeing more attacks . . . and hearing stories that would just make him more upset and worried.� �I think Gi is right,� Ma-Ti said as he leaned against the wall of Gi�s hut. �If there is any news about Wheeler�s friend or aunt, he should hear it from his family . . . not from a TV reporter.� �Da, we can return everything back to normal once Wheeler has been in touch with his family and knows that everyone is all right...� Linka added as she flicked strands of her wind-blown ponytail away from her face with two fingers. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * By 9:40 that morning, Wheeler had caught up with Suchi and retrieved his sports bottle, but not before the mischievous monkey had filled it with sand. After making the rather annoying discovery that his planet pals had rendered his TV and stereo temporarily useless, Wheeler decided to wash out his multicolored drinking vessel in the bathtub. All the while he was stalked by the haunting feeling that after the initial attacks that had brought him to tears, things were already getting worse back home. The static from the weather radio combined with the distorted sounds of people recorded over the phone made broadcast next to impossible to follow unless giving the radio signal undivided attention. Feeling an urgent need to call his family, Wheeler opened a drawer at his computer desk and retrieved his cell phone. Then remembering his battery would not hold a charge and needed to be replaced, he fished a calling card from the wallet he kept in the pocket of his brown windbreaker and darted off to the common hut. When he entered the living room, he found that he was in line to use the land line. �Mishka,� Linka spoke to her big brother, her voice reflecting the horror she was feeling, �It is terrible . . . a passenger plane just crashed into the Pentagon, and Uncle Dimitri is over there!� This development was new to a shocked Wheeler who just stood completely frozen in his tracks. What was happening to his homeland? How could anybody hijack passenger planes and deliberately crash them into important buildings? � . . . What?� Linka continued her phone conversation, � . . . You said he is visiting you and Grandma . . . Oh, Bozhe moy. I am so glad he was not hurt.� Noticing Wheeler was standing in the room not more than a meter away, Linka sighed, �Mishka, I had better go now. Please to be calling me later . . . I love you too . . . goodbye.� When she walked past Wheeler, Linka looked to him with loving empathy reflected in her facial features. Their eyes met for about ten seconds before she gave the redhead a gentle squeeze around his shoulders and made way so he could use the phone. Frantically, Wheeler dialed the only number he could remember at the time, his mother�s cell phone. �Ma . . . �he began, his fingers grasping the phone so tightly his knuckles were turning nearly snow white, �the World Trade Center . . . Did Aunt Debbie get outta there when the north tower was hit?� A spooky air billowed throughout the room while Wheeler heard the news that his peers had tried to keep from him. �What . . .The South tower got hit too . . .No I didn�t see that . . .� Like a deadly flash of lightning, a bolt of adrenalin mixed with a lance of dread pierced Wheeler from the heart throughout his body. �Ma, Trevor works on the 83rd floor . . . that means he didn�t . . . What about Aunt Debbie . . . nothin� yet?�� He felt his body tremble, and he found he needed to lean on the edge of the table to keep his legs from collapsing underneath him. �I�ll be there- . . . no flights in or out . . . Yeah, I�ll be here . . . Call me on my cell the second you hear something . . . Bye . . . I love you too, Ma,� he said his voice as shaky as his body. When he heard his mother hang up her phone, he slammed the phone onto its cradle and immediately clapped one hand over his mouth, tears rolling down his cheeks. Having overheard the fragmented conversation Wheeler was carrying out with his mother, Linka, Gi, Kwame, and Ma-Ti exchanged concerned expressions. They realized someone needed to step forward and offer some comfort to a heartbroken man who had just learned he lost his childhood best friend; Linka swallowed hard and approached Wheeler and took his free hand into hers. �Wheeler?� she softly said, her touch, as gentle as her voice. �Are you all right?� Unable to say anything, Wheeler quickly shook his head. He removed his hand from his mouth, pursed his lips and averted his face. He did not feel like he could look at anybody or anything in his present state of mind. Suddenly, a rumbling could be heard in the background, and it took everyone a few minutes to realize that the noise was coming from the television that had been left on. All five Planeteers were totally unprepared for the sight they were witnessing. Before their eyes, the south tower was buckling like a child�s block building that was too tall and unstable. �I cannot believe this is happening . . .That tall building just collapsed into nothing,� Kwame muttered, hanging his head. �All those people who were still in there . . . � Ma-Ti gasped, not able to complete his sentence. Knowing that it was unlikely that his aunt was able to evacuate before the collapse, Wheeler barreled out of the hut, whizzing past Gaia and Cap, who were on their way to see the Planeteers. �Go after him, Captain Planet,� Gaia commanded as she headed for the common hut to deliver the news of the tower�s destruction to the four Planeteers who were still staring at the television screen and feeling the shock of having witnessed the complete demolition of the tall and mighty sky scraper. Wheeler ran along the beach as though fueled by the rushing blood that roared through his veins and the hot streams that gushed from his tear ducts. When he became tired of running, he came to an abrupt stop about fifteen paces from the ocean. Stripped of the ability to stand up straight and steady, he began to reel back several steps, and he stumbled to his knees. The emotions that wrapped themselves around his heart and mind were too much to bear, and he collapsed into the fetal position. It was there in the sand where Cap had found him. When Cap saw the fallen fire thrower shaking and huddled in a heap before him, he knelt down and helped him into a sitting position. �I�m really sorry, Wheeler,� he somberly sighed as he noticed the look of paralyzing shock worn by a face that had drained of all color. �If you gotta scream or curse or cry, by all means do it,� he said before pulling the redhead close and holding him tightly. �You�ll feel better if you let it all out,� he coaxed, hoping Wheeler would unleash the uncontrollable sobs that would make him feel even the slightest bit better. Unsure what to do, wheeler sat frozen in the superhero�s arms. He was afraid that if he cried now, he would never be able to stop, but he also felt as though he would explode if he did not release some of his grief. He then made the mental conclusion that if he were unable to stop crying on his own he would eventually pass out and stop the tears via unconsciousness. He then felt safe in releasing the desperate wails of a man who had just witnessed what seemed to be the end of life as he knew it, and his body shook violently as though he had consumed a roaring fire. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Despite the fact that there were no Eco-Emergencies, life on Hope Island was far from a tranquil hiatus. Wheeler, having forgotten to charge his phone, used the land line to access the voice mail. He felt his heart sink when he heard that his aunt had died from complications to injuries she sustained in the attack. According to the message Wheeler�s mother left, Aunt Debbie did not want a funeral. Oddly enough, this was a relief to him. As much as Wheeler loved New York City, he did not feel as though he could go home now. He didn�t want any constant reminders of the attack. Another bit of news his mother left was the fact that Trevor�s remains still had not been found yet. As the weeks passed, Gaia, Cap, and the Planeteers all noticed a dramatic change in Wheeler. The sobbing episode he had had on September 11th had temporarily robbed him of his voice, and he could not bring himself to speak even after his throat and vocal cords were fine once more. Because of his trauma-induced inability to talk, he had been relieved from active Planeteer duty, and Kwame wound up taking over the Fire power, wearing Wheeler�s ring on his middle finger. It took the Planeteers hours to convince him to eat even the smallest helpings of food, and he began to grow thin. Day by day, he sedately performed self-care tasks as though on autopilot. One overcast afternoon, the four untraumatized Planeteers had just returned from a clean-up mission in a small town that had just had a toxic spill. They exited their Geo-Cruiser and immediately headed for their huts to wash up and change into fresh clothes. Having not had a chance to eat lunch, they all gathered into the kitchen to fix some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was there that they found a still silent Wheeler standing over the stove and dumping a packet of seasoning into a pot of boiling water and noodles. �Hi, Wheeler,� Gi said as she approached him on her way to the breadbox. When she was greeted with nothing more than a weak smile and a shrug, she attempted to break the silence by asking him what he was cooking. �Ramen noodles?� Wheeler nodded and stirred his brew until the seasoning completely dissolved. �That is all?� Linka voiced her concern for the youth who had gone from having a ravenous appetite to eating barely enough to keep himself alive. All Wheeler did was switch off the stove, serve himself some soup, and sit down to slowly slurp the first scalding spoonful. �Compared to the portions he had been eating since the attack, ramen noodles could be considered a banquet,� Kwame pointed out, trying to not only tell the truth but to provide some assurance to Linka. Watching Wheeler sedately consume his meal and feeling unable to keep seeing his big buddy in this seemingly entranced state of mind, Ma-Ti looked down and scuffed his sneaker on the floor. Tears began to well up in his eyes, and he felt the need to exit the room in the hurry. He sped passed the recycling receptacle and grabbed a discarded jelly jar and a part of a newspaper. He ran to the beach and dropped to his knees before a large rock. Gaia, who had been taking a casual walk, felt both shock and concern when she approached a very despondent Ma-Ti, who was engaged in quite uncharacteristic behavior. Hunched over the boulder, he had wrapped the jelly jar inside the newspaper and was smashing it over and over again with a baseball-sized rock. The look on his face was that of someone who was in major pain. �Ma-Ti?� Gaia said as she drew closer to the South American boy, who could barely see her through his tears, �Do you want to talk?� �I cannot stand to see Wheeler like this anymore, Gaia,� Ma-Ti wept as he continued to destroy the jar, � . . . He has not spoken since September 11th; he hardly eats; and . . . sometimes it seems like he does not want to get better.� �He�s been through a lot, Ma-Ti . . . . . He not only lost his childhood friend and his aunt; he�s also lost his innocence,� Gaia explained. �Before September 11th, many Americans saw terrorist attacks as something that only happened in tiny, faraway countries half a world away. They enjoyed being in their comfort zone believing that nothing could happen to them. Life in the United States was changed forever when those planes crashed into those buildings, and that comfort zone was permanently ruined. As for Wheeler, he may not know just how to deal with everything that has happened to his friends, his family, and his country.� �I know what you are saying is right, but it does not stop my heart from breaking when I see Wheeler in this condition.� Ma-Ti dropped the rock he was holding, and he let the now powdered glass sift from inside the paper into the sand. �He needs his friends now more than he ever has before . . .Be there for him and let him know you will listen to him once he is ready to talk. What he needs to get through this is time and as much love and support as we can give him.� Slowly rising to his feet and starting back toward the recycling bin, Ma-Ti acknowledged Gaia�s words with a weak smile and a shrug. He dropped his paper into the bin and returned to the kitchen. There he found Kwame and Gi munching on their sandwiches and Linka trying to coax Wheeler to eat one too. �The noodles are not enough to sustain you, Yankee,� she said as she slid the extra sandwich she had made in front of her American comrade. �You need to eat something else, or you will get sick. Please, Wheeler . . . how about half of a sandwich.� Getting no response from the self-imposed mute she released a heavy sigh, �Bozhe moy! You are being as stubborn as a horse!� Linka usually made mistakes when quoting American idioms because English was a second language to her. This time, she deliberately slipped up in hopes that Wheeler would break his silence and correct her. When Wheeler gave no answer, she sadly shook her head. Feigning a slight headache, Ma-Ti turned his back to everyone, placed his right hand over his forehead, and very quietly whispered, �Heart.� Having received the youngest Planeteer�s mental suggestion, Linka resorted to one last effort to get Wheeler to eat. �If you finish half, I will give you a kiss,� she offered as she tucked an out of place lock of hair behind Wheeler�s left ear. Wheeler squirmed a little in his chair, not knowing what to do. He would like the kiss, but he did not really want any food. Nothing had tasted right to him since September 11th, and he could not seem to regain his appetite. In his head, he knew he needed to eat, but he just didn�t want anything. However, he did want the kiss, so he picked up the PB&J and looked at it for a few seconds before taking the first bite. After she saw the redhead polish off his last bite, Linka leaned over and smooched him on the cheek. �Thank you, Wheeler; it makes me to feeling so much better seeing you have a real meal.� Before sliding out of his chair, Wheeler hugged the Russian blonde and winked at her. He helped himself to some water and headed out the door and toward his hut. �Oh,� Gi suddenly remembered that she had left something in the Geo-Cruiser, �I forgot to bring in the mail when we got back.� She wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin, dropped her plate into the sink, and started out to retrieve the mail. Upon her return, she began to distribute the letters and post cards to their rightful owners. �It looks like Wheeler has a package.� She laid a blue card onto the table. �It looks like he will have to fly into the city and pick it up,� Kwame noted as he read the general delivery notice. If he goes right now, he will get there just before they close.� With that, he took one last swallow of his water and exited with the card. In his hut, Wheeler was previewing a Dr. Demento track he wanted to burn to a CD. It was all Kwame could do to keep from laughing when he heard the humorous dialogue in Dickie Goodman�s �Mr. Jaws� blasting from the computer speakers. �Wheeler,� he approached his buddy once the track had played itself out, �Gi picked up our mail before we went on our clean-up assignment, and you have a package waiting for you at the post office. I thought we could get there before they close today.� Wheeler turned in his chair to face the black man. �Maybe the blank CD�s I ordered came in,� he thought. Seeing the look of interest in Wheeler�s eyes, Kwame smiled, �We can go as soon as you are ready.� After coming to his feet, Wheeler stepped into the bathroom to run a comb through his hair. He then grabbed the wallet from his windbreaker pocket and stuffed it into his jeans pocket. After he properly shut down the computer, he and Kwame boarded the Geo-Cruiser and set a course to the post office to which the Planeteers� mail had been addressed for the last eleven years. At the post office, Wheeler mutely slipped his delivery card into the clerk�s hand and signed the receipt once the box was produced. The package that had been waiting for him was not the one he was expecting. It was far too big and heavy to be the blank CD�s he had been waiting for. When the two young men arrived back home, they immediately toted the package back to Wheeler�s hut. It wasn�t until they set it on the floor when Wheeler got a look at the return address for the first time. It was from Brooklyn, New York. �Do you not want to see what it is?� Kwame asked after seeing Wheeler pushing the package aside with his foot. When he saw his friend slip outside to take a walk in the fresh air, Kwame allowed his curiosity to get the better of him, and he broke the packing tape with a pair of scissors he found in one of the desk drawers. Inside the box there was a letter that read: Dear Jessie, I hope you are all right; the news about Trevor hit us all very hard, and we are all trying to deal with the loss. We have been praying for you in our Bible study group that the Father would heal your heart. I remembered how you and Trevor talked about how you wanted to team up and make movies together, and I found his audio equipment. I thought you might like to have it. You will also find his Bible. I realize you never really found your spiritual identity, but I think this may help you in your healing. I am very sorry to hear about your Aunt Debbie. If you are looking for anyone to talk to or just want a shoulder to cry on, feel free to call me. God Bless, Mrs. Summers Kwame laid the letter on the desk and fumbled around in the box to see what was in there. A red hardcover NIV study Bible laid on top of a series of old Christmas cookie tins. Inside those tins were patch cords of varying lengths and sizes, many different kinds of conversion plugs, two-way patch splitters, a headset, and a microphone. Another tin housed a disk man, while another was a home for AC adapter packs. In a corner at the bottom of the box was a shrink-wrapped brick of blank CDR�s suitable for burning music CD�s. �Wheeler would have hours of fun with this stuff,� he said to himself before repacking the box and laying the letter on top of the tins. He then closed and resealed the box with a roll of tape he retrieved from a desk drawer. Satisfied with the job he had done with the cardboard box, he slid it into a corner of the closet behind Wheeler�s laundry basket. �Hi, Kwame,� Gi hailed the African as he came out and closed the door behind him. �We saw you land in the clearing and carry the package back here. Is Wheeler in there?� She gestured to the Yankee�s hut. �He did not want to open the box, Gi,� Kwame exhaled a long sigh. �He seemed curious about what was inside; then he just pushed it aside and took off. I took the liberty of opening it, and I found that it came from his friend�s mother. There was a Bible and all sorts of audio equipment.� "Did you say �audio equipment�?� Gi asked, the proverbial wheels turning in her head. �Yes, there are all kinds of cables and connecters and even a microphone.� �I think Linka will be jealous, � Gi chuckled. �. . . You know, Kwame, I think I might know how to help Wheeler . . . See if you can get him to come and meet me in the common room,� she called back as she dashed in that direction. In the common hut, Gi set two cans of root beer on an end table between a wooden rocking chair and soft couch, and she stepped over to the five-shelf bookcase the Planeteers used to keep their video collections. She began to thumb through her videos on the second shelf from the bottom and fished out a tape she thought would be perfect for the plan she had in mind. She had just cued up the scene she wanted to play for Wheeler when she heard the front door open. In stepped the redhead, looking like a teenager who could not tell if he was in trouble with or about to receive praise from a favorite teacher. �Hi, Wheeler, I was just playing one of my tapes when I ran across a scene or two I thought you should see,� she bluffed as she sat in the rocker with the remote in her hand. Glancing at the empty video case that was sitting on top of the VCR, Wheeler read the title �Little House On The Prairie� and flopped onto the couch, a look as if to say, �Spare me,' running across his freckled face. �I know this isn�t your favorite show, but there�s something I think may help you start to feel better . . . you don�t want to be like this for the rest of your life, do you?� Wheeler gulped, looked down, and shook his head. �It�s not a very long segment,� the Asian girl promised as she pressed the play button on her remote. For the next several minutes they watched as two brokenhearted men talked about having lost close relatives and how one was having trouble dealing with his overwhelming grief. The characters hugged each other, and the more emotionally stable one was telling the inconsolable one how important it was to come out of his sadness and live a life that would make his deceased family member proud. When the scene came to an abrupt change, Gi stopped the program, replacing the men and the lonely farmhouse with a silent, neon-blue screen. She pushed the fast forward button and kept a watchful eye on the tape counter. When the numerical sequence she sought appeared, she rapidly pushed the play button again. �This one is really short,� she pointed out as an outdoor church service held in front of a burned building unfolded on the television. Wheeler had helped himself to one of the root beer cans while this portion of the show ran its course; and when the closing credits appeared, he had consumed the entire drink. As he set the empty can onto a drink coaster to his right and sighed, he looked to Gi and did something he had not been able to do for the last several weeks. � . . . What . . . what does that have to do with me?� he softly asked his voice barely above a whisper. �Maybe you can do something in honor of your Aunt Debbie and Trevor,� Gi suggested, � . . . sort of your own little tribute. I�ve heard re-mix songs and Taliban spoofs on the radio, and people say those songs help them deal with what happened. You could burn a CD or make a video . . . You never know, a project could be just what the doctor ordered� �Thanks, Gi,� was all Wheeler said before hugging her firmly and turning to the doorway. Back in his hut, Wheeler found his neglected package and retrieved it from its hiding place. Noticing the duct tape that had served as a replacement seal and remembering that Kwame was in the hut after he had stepped out, he thought to himself, �Doesn�t Kwame know that opening someone else�s mail is a federal offense . . . maybe I�ll keep my mouth shut if he does the cooking the next three nights when it�s supposed to be my turn.� Wheeler grabbed his scissors and opened the box. He froze for a moment after reading the short yet heartfelt letter, and he swallowed hard several times before folding it in half and tucking it into the Bible. After peeking into each cookie tin, he set them into the cardboard carton again, having no idea what to do with his new gifts. Sitting down at his computer, he booted it up and planned to download some more songs. His computer was strange in that he had to access his email if he wanted to connect to the Internet properly, so he put up with this detour. One after one, emails had come in. Most of them were spam or forwarded chain letters, but one or two were personal letters. One of these came from his former girlfriend, Trish: Hi, Wheeler. I�ve been talking to your mom, and she says you�re still pretty shaken up about what happened on 9-11.I just want you to know that I�m here if you need to talk. I moved into your old room after my roommate split to live with her parents in Florida. She got so upset by everything that she couldn�t stand to live in New York anymore. Below is a copy of an email a friend sent me. I thought I would copy and paste it since most people delete forwards Wheeler scrolled down and read the message that pointed out several chapters and scriptures in the Bible that should provide comfort to persons who were dealing with sorrow or insecurity or who needed several forms of assurance. He did not know why, but he felt as though he had to print out the message and take its words to heart. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * That evening brought the aura of encouragement to the Planeteers, and it was as if someone entered a dark room, produced a night-light, and promised that they would bring in a lamp sometime soon. Linka, Gi, Kwame, and Ma-Ti were thrilled and relieved to see Wheeler eat an entire balanced meal and even have two Oreo cookies for desert. Although he had broken his self-imposed vow of silence, he still was not as vocal as he had been before the tragedy. After he licked the Oreo crumbs from his fingers Wheeler took one last gulp of milk and excused himself from the table, claiming he had something to do that could not wait. In his hut, he grabbed the printout and Bible, settled onto his bed, and began to look up the scriptures. The words on the thin, white pages were adorned with colorful underlines, and Trevor�s almost illegible jots were sprinkled in the margins. Even with the notes, Wheeler found the scriptures hard to understand. He heard Trevor say over and over that the Bible had provided him with comfort whenever he was upset, but Wheeler did not feel anything. When he was a child, what little spiritual feeding he had came from Trevor and his family. Wheeler�s father did not believe in God at all, and he actively discouraged him from exploring Christianity by telling him that if God really loved him He wouldn�t have made him out to be such a loser. Having been emotionally abused as many times as he had, Wheeler began to believe his father�s words, and he began to see his being born as a mistake. Unfortunately, his mother was just as much a victim of emotional abuse, so she had no idea how to help her suffering son. Wheeler was about to close the Bible and leave it on his nightstand when Mrs. Summers� letter slid out, floated up on a gentle gust, and landed open face in his lap. His eyes fell on the last paragraph in which Mrs. Summers had offered to listen if he ever wanted to talk. He then refolded the paper and tucked it into the pages before retrieving his cell phone. The low battery light was flashing, so he plugged in the charger and hooked up the phone. At least he wouldn�t have to worry about the call dropping while he and Mrs. Summers were busy with their conversation. Once Wheeler connected his hands-free device, he started dialing the Summers� number. �Mrs. Summers? It�s Jessie Wheeler . . . You said you�d be here if I needed . . .� He gulped, having trouble finishing his sentence. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * For the next three hours, Mrs. Summers explained the Bible to Wheeler and told him that God loved him just the way he was. She told him that his dad was wrong, that God was real, and that He wanted Wheeler to get to know Him better and love Him back. All of this newfound information was a lot for the overwhelmed redhead to swallow, and Mrs. Summers warned that knowing God would take a lifetime, and that there would always be questions and a need for prayer. Near the end of the phone call, she found herself growing sleepy, so she asked if she could pray for Wheeler while he was still on the phone. As he listened to the loving and heart-felt words, he felt a lump forming in his throat. By the time he hung up the cell phone, his blue eyes were hot and ready to well up. After placing the phone back into the desk drawer, he brushed his teeth, changed into a pair of blue- and white-striped PJ�s and crawled into bed. �Wheeler,� a voice called out to the sleeping Planeteer, �get up, man.� �Who said that?� Wheeler yawned as he rolled onto his back, still wrapped in his covers. �Duhh,� the voice said playfully, �who do you think it is, ginger-dude?� Realizing that Trevor was the only one who called him by that nickname, Wheeler sat up, gaping at the figure that stood over his bed. �T-Trevor . . . you�re . . . s-supposed to be . . . d-dead,� he stuttered. �That doesn�t mean I can�t pop up in one o� your dreams.� Trevor smiled and ran his fingers through his chocolate-brown hair. �We gotta talk, buddy.� �About what?� �I need you to do something for me . . . Make a video and dedicate it to the memory of those who died because of the September 11th attacks.� �I dunno if I can do that.� �Sure you can,� Trevor assured his friend. �You can get your minicam and use the patch equipment I gave you to dub in background music. It�s not that hard. God gave you the gift of creativity, and He gave you the talent for cinematography. It may not be easy, but it will be instrumental in your and other people�s recovery from the tragedy. If God didn�t want you to do this, He wouldn�t have sent me here to tell you to make the video. If nothing else, do it for me, Wheeler.� Wheeler looked into Trevor�s big, brown eyes, and that sincere look was the last thing he saw before the room faded into blackness and silence. Suddenly, Wheeler regained consciousness and bolted upright in his bed. Trevor was no longer there, and the darkened room filled with an aura of inspiration. He still felt groggy and doubted he had the energy to do much of anything. Not wanting to completely lose the idea that shot through his mind, he grabbed a spiral notebook and scribbled the main parts of the epiphany onto the blank page. Once he jotted everything down, he laid the notebook onto the desk and slid back into bed. Part 2 |
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