| Changed Forever |
| Part 3 |
| "Wheeler?" Cap said, having never knowing the formerly carefree Planeteer to recite scriptures. "If you are with me, God, oh boy do I need You now!" Wheeler cried out, pulling the camera away from his eye and forgetting that the tape was still rolling. "God, help me!" he beseeched into the clouds above him. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" Cap quietly questioned, believing that Wheeler had gone into this project prematurely. "Why don't we take a break and see if there's anything else you can tape for your video." "I gotta do this, Cap," Wheeler said trying feverishly to convince himself as well as his superhero friend. "If I go back to the Planeteers, I have to be able to look at rubble without fallin' apart." "I still think we should take a break," Cap insisted, determined to win his argument and get Wheeler to film something else for his tribute tape. "Do you know where we can stop off and rethink this project?" Wheeler took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and came to the realization that his own stubbornness would be no match for Cap's. He knew that he would not win this one; after all, who was carrying whom? "Trish is stayin' with Ma, and I didn't bring a lot o' money . . . Mrs. Summers has a condo in Brooklyn Heights . . . " "What's the address?" Wheeler searched his brain for the name of the condo and its number and street. He then paused his mini-cam and told Cap where to find Mrs. Summers' home. It didn't take them long to get to their destination, and Cap gently landed on a balcony on the second floor and set Wheeler down in one of the blue, plastic chairs. Hearing the unusual racket that was going on out on the balcony, a gray cat jumped down from a leather recliner in the living room, pranced through the sliding glass door that had been cracked to let fresh air in, and stepped onto the dusty, wooden floor. "Hi, little fellow," Cap bent down to scratch the feline behind the ears, only to have the cat dart over to Wheeler. Wheeler, who remembered the kitty from his last visit with Trevor, reached down to scratch him by the tail, but the animal had something else in mind. He promptly leaped up, wrapped his front paws around Wheeler's wrist, and happily nipped his arm. "Ow! Cut it out Booger," Wheeler reprimanded as he pulled himself free of the cat's grasp. "Did anyone tell you that hurts?!" "He's just saying, 'Hi,' " Cap said, drawing on his heart power to figure out why Booger was behaving in this manner. He lifted Booger, who let out a loud meow and began to playfully box at his face. Mrs. Summers, who had taken a personal holiday, had just finished tossing clothes into the stackable washer/dryer when she heard the feline dialogue that was taking place on the balcony. She closed the lid and headed toward the noise. "Booger, what are you--"she threw the door open and stood wide-eyed, staring to her unexpected visitor. ". . . Jessie . . . Jessie Wheeler, it is so good to see you!" Anticipating an affectionate and hearty squeeze that only Mrs. Summers could give, Wheeler set his camera onto the glass top table and ran over to hug the lady who radiated love and warmth in her smile and her embrace. Once he stepped back, he looked at the gentle woman with misty, blue eyes. "We just came from Ground Zero," Cap started to explain Wheeler's present mood, "and it really got to him." "No, Cap," Wheeler shook his head, "it's not Ground Zero . . . I dunno why, but I get this way every time I see Mrs. Summers." Mrs. Summers smiled at the young man, knowing very well why he got all choked up every time they talked. She knew that Wheeler never really knew how to handle being truly loved and accepted unconditionally. His father seldom showed his love for him, while his mother tried her best but could not do or say enough to make up for the awful way her husband treated their only son. "Mrs. Summers, this is Captain Planet," Wheeler introduced her to the man from whom she had just taken the kitty. "Cap this is Trevor's mom." "I've seen your picture in the paper," Mrs. Summers said as she dropped Booger onto the floor just inside the living room. "You and your Planeteers saved a nuclear power plant in Rhode Island from a total meltdown . . . . But I didn't see you in that picture, Jessie. The other four were there but not you." "That's because Wheeler broke his ankle helping three scientists evacuate, and he was in the hospital at the time the picture was taken." Cap began to brag about his pyro-pal. "Too bad he couldn't 'ave gotten the Purple Heart. He proved you don't need superpowers to be a hero. "Where are my manners?" Mrs. Summers said, slightly annoyed with herself for not inviting her guests in before engaging in conversation. "Come in and sit down . . . both of you." Wheeler retrieved his mini-cam, and the trio entered the condo. The faint odor of burnt toast filled the room, and the pitter-patter of Booger's excitedly running around the living room floor competed with the soft music playing on the radio. While Mrs. Summers prepared two tumblers of water, Cap left Wheeler's backpack on the floor by the coffee table and perched on the recliner, and Wheeler sat on the left hand side of the couch with his camera in his lap. "So, tell me," Mrs. Summers began as she sat on the other end of the couch, "why have you graced me with your presence?" "I . . . I'm workin' on somethin'," Wheeler labored to find an answer without blowing the possibility of ultimately surprising Mrs. Summers with his tribute after it is finally completed, "I can't go into details about it . . . just that I gotta film a couple o' things." Not wanting Wheeler to bring any more emotional distress upon himself, Cap stood up and stepped into the conversation. "I hate to drink and fly, but I think I'm gonna go see if there are other scenes Wheeler can film besides the ruins of the World Trade Center. It may be too much for him to handle right now." "You may be right, Captain Planet. Those images can be very painful. I did hear on channel 4 that all over New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut, people have been planning special events in honor of September 11." Mrs. Summers took Cap's now empty cup and dropped it in the kitchen sink. "I'll go check it out." With that, Cap slid the door open and ascended into the skies. As soon as she knew that Cap was gone, Mrs. Summers closed the door and sat next to Wheeler again. "So how are you doing, Jessie?" she asked as she rested one hand on Wheeler's shoulder. "I'm okay," the man sheepishly replied, not wanting to dig up any emotions and risk losing his self-control. "You miss Trevor and your Aunt Debbie, don't you . . . " ". . . Yeah. I just wanna know . . . is this gonna get any easier?" Wheeler gulped. "I know it's hard to believe, Jessie, but it will get easier someday. When the Twin Towers first collapsed, I was a basket case, but as time passed it began to hurt a little less every day. It also helps having Booger around. I got him when I cleaned out Trevor's apartment, and having him is like having a part of Trevor back again." She took Wheeler by the hand and continued, "And look at you. Believe it or not, you are getting better already. I heard from your mother that you had stopped talking after the attack . . . now; you want to make a home video about September 11th. God has begun guiding you through your recovery, and He will keep guiding you. Lean on Him, Jessie, and He will give you all the strength you're going to need to get through this. You're . . . we're both going to be fine again. . . . That's God's promise." She tightened her hold on Wheeler's hand and began to pray for their continued emotional healing and that Wheeler would find a safe place in the arms of his creator. * * * Wheeler had unpacked his personal effects in the guest room, intent on spending the night with Mrs. Summers. He realized that not only could they comfort each other, but he would be welcome company to the woman who watched all three of her children move out of the house to begin lives of their own. Trevor's brothers lived in other time zones; therefore, visitation was not always easy. Also this week was particularly lonely for Mrs. Summers because this was the first time her husband had to take an overnight business trip since the attack. The two spent the entire morning talking about anything that came to mind - happy memories of Trevor, the turn their lives had been taking recently, and the promise to be there to help each other through their grief. By the time they had just finished lunch, they heard a thud on the balcony; and Cap had appeared in the doorway. "Glad to see I didn't interrupt your meal, Wheeler," the jolly blue giant said once Mrs. Summers opened the sliding door. "There's something I think you would like to catch on your video, and I think we'd better hurry before it's too late" "Go on and shoot your scene, Jessie," Mrs. Summers coached. "You have the dreams, the imagination, and the determination to start this project, and I want to see it when it is done." "You will," Wheeler said before Cap snatched him up and flew from the balcony with him. The flight through the air had only taken minutes, and Cap cued Wheeler to start his camera. Below, in a tranquil retirement apartment complex, tiny dots representing residents stood on the concrete deck of the swimming pool area. As Cap brought Wheeler closer, the dots became actual people, and one was standing very close to a white wall that encircled the entire pool area. An even closer look revealed the seemingly magical appearance of red stripes on that wall. When Cap set Wheeler onto the ground, the aspiring cinematographer captured a clear view of an old man from the back who was shaking a can of spray paint. In front of him was an incomplete mural of an American flag about six feet tall and nine feet long. The red stripes had just been finished, and the man was commencing work on the blue, star-spangled upper-left corner of his rendition of the flag. To Wheeler's surprise, the man didn't spray the entire square blue and add white stars to it afterward. He carefully moved the spray paint can in front of the wall, creating the blue field tracing the outlines of the white stars he saw in his mind. He appeared to be in a deep state of concentration as he made his drawing, and he became mildly annoyed when his can ran out and he had to start another one. Nobody wanted to distract him, for they knew the importance of this task and how much intense concentration it would take to pull it off. When the artist finished his masterpiece, he stepped back to allow his audience to see the perfect replica of the American flag. The round of applause that came from the other residents sounded like the kind of rain shower one would love to hear on the roof before falling asleep at night. "That's totally awesome!" Wheeler gasped as he shot a clear image of the painting. "That ol' guy really knows how to draw!" "Yo, thanks," the man's raspy voice brought Wheeler's attention from his filming. The younger man stopped his camera and looked to the gentleman who looked somewhat familiar to him. "Course, I been drawin' most o' my life," he said in a thick New York accent. A wave of deja vous prompted Wheeler to ask, "Do I know you?" He doubted very seriously that he had ever seen this man before, but maybe he had seen his picture somewhere - but where? "The name's Nicho," the elderly artist extended his hand to shake with Wheeler. "Call me Wheeler," the Planeteer returned the introduction, not caring that he might get a little red or blue paint on his hand. 'Nicho . . . that name sounds familiar,' Wheeler thought to himself. He remembered Gaia's telling a story of how an earlier generation of Planeteers once summoned Cap over sixty years ago, and that his 1940's counterpart was a teenage hotel waiter named Nicho. He also remembered his mother having talked about how she had an uncle Nicho who was a terrible correspondent that seemed to only write once in a blue moon. "You wouldn't happen to know a lady named Abby Terrelli . . . would you?" Wheeler queried. "She's my niece . . . my brother's kid . . . haven't seen her since she had her baby." Nicho stood and stared at the man over sixty years his junior. "You look like her." "She's my mom," Wheeler said, somewhat in shock. "It's been a while since I'd seen you," Nicho said as he approached Cap. "Looking good, Nicho," Cap said to the man whose gray hair and aged face made him look very distinguished. "I see you still like to draw," he commented as he gestured toward the flag mural. "It's my tribute to the people who died in the attack," Nicho countered, leaning on one of the sturdy, plastic tables. That's what I'm doin'," Wheeler said as he held up his video camera. "Around here, they're callin' this the Pearl Harbor of the 21st century," Nicho somberly noted. "When we were bombed in '41, I joined the Army and did what I could do for my country. Now, after 2 hip replacements . . . stupid arthritis . . . I had to do somethin' else less physical to express my patriotism." With that, he approached his flag and picked up a can of red spray paint. Wheeler feared Nicho would do something to ruin his vibrant mural, and he went on a gut feeling to start up his camera. To his surprise, Nicho shook his paint can and began to spray something to the right of the flag - Aunt Debbie's name! Then, he approached Wheeler and asked him if he had lost anyone close to him in the attack. "Go ahead, Wheeler," Cap coaxed, trying to take the camera from the young man's hands. Wheeler knew that writing Trevor's name would be therapeutic for him, and he knew that having a video immortalizing his spray painting it on the memorial would be instrumental in his and others' recovery. Hoping that Cap could shoot this one scene without jolting the camera, he walked up to the massive flag, where Nicho handed him a can of blue spray paint. Wheeler shook the can and wrote Trevor's name directly below Aunt Debbie's. * * * Cap and Wheeler had spent a lion's share of that afternoon searching for and capturing many patriotic scenes on video. They continued with this project until it started to get dark, and they returned to Mrs. Summers' condo, where Cap said he had to return to the earth to recharge. "Well, Wheeler, it's just about my bedtime, so . . ." Cap leaped off the balcony and into mid air. "The Power is yours!" Cap transformed into a swirl of green, red, white, blue, and yellow beams, and the red beam shot straight into Wheeler's ring, thus returning the power of Fire to him. He watched as the other four beams lanced the darkness and traveled back to Hope Island. "Jessie, do you like a lot of pepperoni on your pizza?? Mrs. Summers asked as she prepared two French bread pizzas for baking. "Sure . . . you got anchovies too?" Wheeler stepped back inside, pushed the door shut, and secured the burglar bar into place. "I do not eat rotten, little fishies on my pizza!" Mrs. Summers laughed. Instead of being disappointed that his favorite topping would not be on his pizza, Wheeler found himself laughing at his host's wisecrack. After the pizzas had gone into the oven, Mrs. Summers sat down on the recliner and looked to her guest, who was now half lying on the couch. "I think you will need to get to bed right after we finish eating," she suggested as she noticed Wheeler was slipping into a fog of fatigue. "You've had a big day, and even if your mind thinks it is alert, your body might want to sleep." "That's how people get fat . . . goin' to bed right after they eat." It looks like you can use some more weight. You're so thin . . . . Have you been eating properly lately?" "Until yesterday, I haven't had much of an appetite," Wheeler confessed. "After the attacks, food just didn't taste right anymore." "Well, you're not going to skip any meals while you're staying with me," Mrs. Summers declared, "even if I have to force feed you. Is that clear, young man?" Wheeler realized that this determined lady was not one to bluff, and he wouldn't put it past her to force feed him and make the experience as annoying as possible. When the pizzas were ready, Wheeler practically devoured his, finding he was hungrier than he had thought. He washed the pizza down with a tall glass of milk, ate some shortbread cookies for desert, and retreated to the guest room to look over the many scenes he had filmed throughout the day. Wheeler had rewound the tape to its beginning, and he hugged a decorative throw pillow when he saw the massive destruction at Ground Zero on the screen. He was about to fast-forward the tape when he noticed something he didn't remember having shot. Apparently when he turned the camera away from his eye and left it running he had unknowingly caught some of the clean-up effort. Rescuers in the uniforms of firefighters, police officers, and medical staff all pulled together as a team, working together to achieve a greater good - the clean up of Ground Zero. They all dug through the rubble in search of any remains they could salvage, and they were intent on clearing away the wreckage as well. This spirit of teamwork amidst the worst destruction the country has ever seen was nothing short of inspirational, and it was this image that made Wheeler decide to include the first part of the video in his tribute - massive debris and all. Wheeler was so involved in his task that he had completely lost track of time. By the time he had reviewed all of his shots and determined that he had enough for his tribute, it was around 9:30. Wheeler had no sooner turned off his camera than he heard a quiet knock on the bedroom door. "It's open!" Wheeler called out as he placed the camera on the dresser and flopped back on the bed with his Bible and notebook. "I'm getting ready for bed, Jessie," Mrs. Summers said as she peeked into the room, "and I just wanted to see if you needed anything." "I . . . I don't think so," Wheeler shrugged. "The guest bathroom is the next door over, and there are extra blankets and pillows in the closet if you need them . . . Oh, you may want to keep the door ajar . . . Booger likes to come in here and sleep under the bed." "No problem," Wheeler answered back, not looking up from his notebook, for he was clearly wrapped up in his current activity. "I never put an alarm clock in here, so would you like me to wake you up around 8:00 tomorrow morning? "Sounds okay to me," Wheeler said, looking up briefly and returning his attention to what he was writing in his notebook. "Aren't you going to show me how your project is coming?" the lady cheerfully asked, trying to sound like a curious child who wanted to know what her Christmas presents were. "And ruin the surprise? No way!" Wheeler held the notebook against his chest. "I'm not ready for anyone to see it yet. When I get it done, I'm gonna make copies for you and my family." "Do yourself a favor, Jessie . . . make as many copies as you need, but keep the original for yourself. You are still getting over this too, and you may need to see your tribute a few times to help you deal with your feelings better." Wheeler hadn't thought of keeping his own copy of the tribute, but Mrs. Summers had a point. "Yeah, I'll do that." "Are you sure you don't need anything?" When Wheeler shook his head, she quietly said, "Pleasant dreams," before stepping out and leaving the door cracked enough so Booger could gain access to the room. Wheeler wanted to continue taking notes and finding Bible verses that would go well with the scenes he had shot, but his eyelids grew heavy, and he had trouble holding his tired head up. He laid the books on the nightstand, made sure the window blinds were drawn and got ready for bed. When he slid under the covers, he was ready to fall asleep, but an unexpected, four-legged roommate had just awoken from one of his naps, and he wanted a playmate. Seeing that the bed under which he would sleep was occupied he leaped on top of the blankets and scampered up Wheeler's back. Purring, he began to box at the man's head, and then he decided it would be fun to take hold of a lock of Wheeler's hair and tug. The next two hours were a battle of wits between Planeteer and pet, and Wheeler was certain he would not get a good night's sleep. By midnight, Booger, exhausted after his burst of energy, crawled under the bed and purred until he fell asleep. Wheeler soon lost consciousness after having checked to see that the kitty hadn't pulled out any of his hair. A vague dream in which Hoggish Greedly was running a barbecue stand to feed the rescuers at Ground Zero ran through Wheeler's head, and he woke up long enough to jot a brief sentence in his notebook. He had fallen asleep again, but it didn't seem to last long enough. Between the natural breaks in the sleep cycle, Wheeler's tendency to stew over his project when awake, and the cat's decision to pounce on the man's legs every time he moved, Wheeler didn't get much rest that night. Sleepless nights were not uncommon to him after the attacks; but, oddly enough, it was nice to be kept awake by something other than grief over the losses he had suffered. Yet another brief episode of slumber was shattered when Mrs. Summers delivered her wake-up call as promised. Not wanting to move, but knowing he had better get up and have a shower before breakfast, Wheeler rose and dragged his feet into the bathroom to perform his morning ritual. "Are you going to video tape any more events for your movie?" Mrs. Summers asked as she sliced through a stack of blueberry pancakes. "I think I have all the scenes I'm gonna need," Wheeler answered, showering his pancakes in maple syrup. "I'm pretty sure I can put the rest of it together back home." "Do you need to call Captain Planet or the other Planeteers for a ride home, or are you planning to stick around for a while?" "I would love to hang around for a while, but I feel like I really gotta get this tape done . . . then I can go back to being an active Planeteer again." "Your mom is going to shoot you when she finds out you came to New York without seeing her," Mrs. Summers pointed out, pretending Wheeler was a naughty child who had just gotten into trouble with her. Deciding that two could play at that game, Wheeler smirked, "I'm gonna come back to give you guys the tapes, so . . ." He jokingly stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry at the jovial woman who promptly reciprocated. They both broke into laughter; then they continued to consume their morning meal. When the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher, Wheeler ducked into his room to get his cell phone. He was able to get through to Gi, who promised to pick him up that afternoon on the condition that they could stop somewhere she could shop for a new pair of capri pants. "What time is your friend coming for you?" Mrs. Summers asked once Wheeler had returned his cell phone to his backpack. "Gi said she'd be here around lunchtime. We're gonna stop off and do some shopping before we get back home." Wheeler stashed his pack underneath the coffee table and activated the television with the push of a button. "After I mailed your package, I found some more of Trevor's things that I want you to have," Mrs. Summers said as she pulled a small box from the top shelf of her front closet. "But you already gave me his-" "Now don't hurt my feelings, Jessie. At least take a look at the stuff before you decide whether or not you want it," the generous lady interrupted, strongly determined to see some of her late son's possessions go to another young man who would get as much use and enjoyment out of them as Trevor had. Realizing that Mrs. Summers needed to do these loving things for him as much as he needed her to listen to him in his time of need, Wheeler opened the box that revealed three tie-dye bandannas and a blast from the past that both he and Trevor believed to have been lost forever. "No way . . . "Wheeler gasped as he looked incredulously at the gold Timex wrist watch that he had remembered giving his deceased chum for his 16th birthday. "Trevor emailed me and told me he lost this just after he moved into his apartment..." "It had fallen behind the dresser, and I didn't find it until I had them come and take all his furniture to the Salvation Army. He drove himself crazy wondering where that darn watch went, and all that time . . . " "Looks like it took a lickin' and stopped tickin'," Wheeler quipped as he studied the display that clearly had the wrong time. "After three years, I'd think it would need a new battery. You can get one when you and your friend go shopping." "You're . . . gonna give this to me?" Wheeler could not believe that Trevor's mother would let him have this inexpensive, yet priceless in sentimental value, gift. "I can't see it belonging to anyone else. You gave this watch to a friend you loved like a brother . . . now, I'm giving you that same gift out of love and the hopes that you would remember Trevor when you wear it." Wheeler was so moved by this heart wrenching gesture, that he wrapped the watch in the bandannas, slipped the colorful bundle into the small pocket of his pack, and ran up to hug Mrs. Summers, tears of sentiment and gratitude spilling down his cheeks. * * * There had been times when Gi treasured solitude when flying through the light blue skies, but the deafening quiet only reminded her that there were no welcome distractions to keep her mind off Wheeler and the solemn state of mind he had been in the day before. She couldn't tell how he was feeling over the phone that morning because the cell phone signal was breaking up so badly that she was lucky to understand his garbled words. She was able to get directions to where he was staying, and she landed the Geo-Cruiser in the visitors' parking lot. She entered the front door and found the stairwell that would lead her to the units on the second floor. When the Asian lady found the door marked 2-c, she knocked and waited patiently for someone to open up and usher her inside. When the door swung open, she was greeted by a red-haired man, who scooped her up in his arms and gave her such a hearty hug that he actually lifted her off the floor. "It's so good to see you're feeling better, Wheeler," Gi smiled as Wheeler set her down. "We've all been worried about you." "I'm doin' fine, Gi . . . I'm almost ready . . . just gotta grab my stuff and say good-bye to Mrs. Summers." He gestured for Gi to enter. Once Gi was in the living room and had taken a seat on the couch, Wheeler stepped back into the guest room to retrieve his video camera and make sure he hadn't left anything. While she waited, Gi sat back and relaxed - that is until Booger came up and began to happily nip at her left leg. Startled by the sudden appearance of this kitty and smarting from the play bite he had given her, Gi yelped and aimed her ring directly at his face. "Water!" she said sternly, squirting him with a steady stream of cold water and sending him scrambling across the floor. "Booger what has gotten into you?" Mrs. Summers exclaimed as she tripped over him just outside the utility room. Seeing her newest visitor, she immediately shifted her attention from feline to human. "Hello there, I'm Beth Summers. You must be here for Jessie." "Uh . . . yes. He said he'd be right out. My name is Gi." She looked to the older woman with curiosity and asked, "What have you done to Wheeler? I haven't seen him in a happy mood since before . . . well before . . ." "After the World Trade Center fell, people all over the country developed a renewed appreciation for their families. All I did was love Jessie and treat him like he was family . . . which I had been doing since he and Trevor were in nursery school together. I just gave him the emotional support that his dad wouldn't and his mom couldn't give. When you two get back home, love him like he was your brother . . . let him know that he has a safe place to unleash any feelings or questions he will undoubtedly have." Gi nodded and was about to say something when Wheeler appeared, toting his camera and about to don his backpack. Using words that only could be said by the look in his misting eyes, Wheeler approached Mrs. Summers and squeezed her like a college freshman would a parent he would not likely see for four months. "You take care of yourself, Jessie; and don't be a stranger. I'm going to want emails and another visit soon." Mrs. Summers hugged him tightly one last time then released him so he and Gi could exit and carry on with their errands. "I got something to do in Sears," Wheeler said as he sat in the co-pilot's seat and strapped himself in. "I can take care of it while you're looking at the capri pants." "I'm curious . . . what do you have to do?" Gi turned the key in the ignition, activating the solar-powered vehicle. "This . . . " Wheeler answered as he bent down and produced the watch from the bag and unwrapped it. "I gave it to Trevor when he turned 16 . . . needs a new battery." "Mrs. Summers gave it to you?" "She didn't want anyone else to have it," was all Wheeler said before tucking the bandannas back into the pack and fastening the shiny band around his right wrist. He remembered that Trevor had always liked bands with a small clasp, but it felt a little to constricting for his taste. On top of that, he knew that once he gained back the weight he had lost, there would be no way he could fit the watch anymore. The shopping mall was not to far away, and it only took a minute or two to land the cruiser into a parking slot outside of Sears. The Planeteers crossed the parking lot and pushed the heavy glass doors open, entering the women's clothing department. "I'll meet you at the check-out stand in about . . . half an hour," Wheeler stated once he saw Gi migrate straight to a rounder that held capri pants of varying colors and patterns. "That's it?" Gi, the shop-aholic shot back. "If it were up to you, we'd be here until the year 2003," Wheeler remarked as he headed for the escalator that would take him down to the jewelry department. As Gi began to rifle through the rack, an elderly woman, who was at another rounder behind her, quietly snickered to herself. "Young love," she thought as she proceeded to the next rack that contained pastel polo shirts. It was fortunate that Wheeler had designated a half hour to be enough time for each Planeteer to do his or her respective errand. A long line at the jewelry counter was a test of Wheeler's patience. There was only one salesperson behind the counter, so he could understand why a high volume of customers would produce a long wait. But when a very indecisive little girl could not make up her mind exactly which pair of earrings she wanted, he started to fidget, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and occasionally leaning in the edge of the glass countertop that housed the chain link bracelets and necklaces. "Samantha, you have to the count of five," the child's mother ordered, noticing the disgusted looks on Wheeler's and other customers' faces, ". . . and if you don't choose a pair by then, we're going home, with or without the earrings." The little girl aimed her best puppy-dog eyes at her mother, only to have her plan foiled by her mother's refusal to give in. "You're keeping all these nice people waiting. Now . . . one . . . two . . . three-" Before the mother could reach number four, Samantha pulled a card down that sported a pair of gold stars. Finally, it was Wheeler's turn at the counter, and he not only replaced the dead battery, he bought a stretchy, gold band that would make the watch a lot more comfortable for him now and once he returned to his normal weight. As soon as Gi paid for her pants and Wheeler got his watch in working order, they hooked up again and ate lunch together at the food court before heading back to Hope Island. As soon as they left the cruiser, they found that an unexpected welcoming party was anticipating their arrival. Wheeler had only a couple of seconds to step into the sandy ground before he was showered with hugs and greetings from Gaia and the other Planeteers, who were overjoyed to see him come home with a smile on his face. * * * Now that Wheeler had the video shots for his tribute, the time had come to gather the audio segments. Wheeler searched through his CD collection and found he didn't have the tracks he wanted to use, so he brought up his music site and began to download songs that he thought would go well as background for the video segments. When searching for "Imagine", he found not only the original but other versions as well. He especially liked the version that came from the Quantum Leap soundtrack, and the song earned a place for itself on the CD he planned to burn. For days, Wheeler engaged in a very reclusive and mysterious lifestyle. He wanted his tribute to be as much of a surprise to his fellow Planeteers as to his family and friends. He said nothing to anyone about what he was doing, and he dodged the subject if he happened to be cross-examined by a curious Planeteer or inquisitive spirit. When Wheeler stepped into the common room to borrow the VCR, he was met by two inquiring Planeteers who, like wet nosed little children, couldn't wait for an answer. "How is your movie coming?" Linka asked as she shifted her position on the couch. "It's coming," was all Wheeler was so inclined to say. "Will you be finished with it soon?" "I'll get done with it when I get done with it," Wheeler stubbornly refused to yield. "Why are you to borrowing the VCR when you have one of your own in your hut, Yankee?" Linka queried as she watched her American comrade disconnect the machine from the TV. "Don't worry; I'll bring it back in the morning. Does someone wanna tape somethin' tonight?" Wheeler cleverly sidestepped Linka's question and then made a face at Ma-Ti. "I know what you're thinking" little buddy, and if you try to use your heart power to find out what I'm doin' . . . let's just say I practically invented the zone-out." With that he stalked out with the VCR In hand. "Bozhe moy. He is being just impossible!" Linka declared as she slapped the couch's armrest with the palm of her hand. "He is certainly keeping all of us in the dark with this project." Acting against Wheeler's advice not to use his power, Ma-Ti smirked and used his ring in order to tap into the New Yorker's mind, only to read a thought that brought him to laughter. "He was not kidding. He really does know how to block his thoughts." "What is so funny?" Linka couldn't help cracking a smile at the Kayapo's laughter. "He is thinking about . . . plastic, pink elephants about 4 feet in height . . . dancing and jumping around," Ma-Ti severed the mental connection when he burst out into laughter, almost falling off the couch. "They were doing the twist with poodle skirts on!" "Sounds like Wheeler has been watching Happy Days," Linka giggled as she conjured up her own image of what Ma-Ti was actually seeing. "I am afraid Wheeler's video will have to remain a mystery. We will just have to wait until he is ready to show it to us." The encounter in the living room was not the last Wheeler would face that night. When he decided to take a break and walk along the beach he experienced more than a gentle wind blowing through his hair. "Have you finished your project, Wheeler?" Gaia asked as she approached and startled the artistic youth. "Not you too, Gaia!" Wheeler complained as he threw up his hands and allowed them to fall to his sides. "You're as bad as the other Planeteers. This morning at breakfast, Gi thought she could trick me into spillin' my guts; Kwame took an extra long time pullin' the weeds around my hut, hopin' to overhear somethin'; Linka and Ma-Ti are playin' 20 questions and using telepathy; and now you wanna cross examine me!" Everyone's just curious," Gaia tried to explain, "Nobody can resist a mystery, and you've been tempting all of us with a good one." "Then you're gonna have to let this one go unsolved for now," Wheeler dug in his heels, refusing to give in. "I don't wanna ruin the surprise." "You know, Wheeler," Gaia decided to change the subject and, hopefully, get Wheeler out of this cross mood, "I'm very proud of you. When the Trade Towers first fell and you completely shut down, I was really worried about you. You were so lost and unsure what to do to help yourself, and we all felt helpless because we didn't have any idea how to get you through your condition . . . and now you woke up and decided to put this video tribute together. I realize you may never completely get over the events of September 11th, but I believe you've really come a long way . . . and you will come out even stronger than before. It's the survivor in you that freed you from your trauma, and that part of you will get you through anything life decides to throw your way." Wheeler wasn't used to hearing such praises, and his cheeks turned pink with Gaia's words. After a pause of about ten seconds, he cracked a half smile and thanked Gaia for her pep talk simply by looking to her with eyes that mirrored his gratitude. When he finally was able to find words to say, he had a favor to ask of the spirit. "Gaia . . . would you get a message to the others for me? I have to do some recordings open-mike, and any background noises will ruin them. I don't wanna be disturbed if I'm gonna get this video done." "How will they know when it's okay to drop in again?" Gaia had no problem honoring Wheeler's wish, but she wanted to know what to tell the others in case they had any questions about how and when to contact the pyro Planeteer. Wheeler stopped to think for a moment, and an idea came to him. "I got it," he announced to his company before starting back for his hut. Once there, he stepped inside and reemerged with one of his new bandannas. "As long as this is on the door, nobody should even knock or call or anything," he instructed as he knotted the colorful cloth around his front doorknob. "When it comes off, they can talk to me again." * * * Wheeler spent a long yet productive night working on his brainchild. He was so wrapped up in his endeavor that he completely lost track of time. By the time he had completed his tribute, it was 5:30 in the morning, and he dreaded the thought of getting up in two and a half short hours. Leaving the bandanna tied around the doorknob, he did his normal nightly rituals and climbed into bed with his Bible. However he only had time to open the book and focus on the verse on which he left off during his last devotional before he fell into a deep and well deserved slumber. It was well after lunchtime when Wheeler finally awoke and had his shower. He made up his mind that he would travel to the mainland and have the video professionally copied and then distribute them to Mrs. Summers, his parents, and his great uncle Nicho. Realizing that visits to his family and friends would result in invitations to share a meal or spend the night, he resolved that he would have the copies made, return to Hope Island for the night, and make his deliveries the next day. That way, he would be able to share a meal at each home. His assumptions had proven to be true as the following day unfolded. Armed with his video copies, the redhead rose around 8:00 and immediately got ready for his full day. He boarded the Eco-Copter and set a course for the northeastern United States. After eating breakfast with Nicho, lunch with Mrs. Summers and dinner with his parents and Trish, Wheeler made his return trip to Hope Island. "Wheeler, it is almost 10:00," Ma-Ti pointed out as the North American Planeteer entered the common room "Didn't you guys see the message I left on my dry erase board?" "Da," Linka replied after sipping on a mug of warm milk with cinnamon, "but we did not expect you to be gone so long, Yankee." "Sorry about that, it just took me a little longer to do what I had to do on the mainland." Wheeler produced the original copy of his tribute tape and set it on the shelf on which his store bought videos sat. "Your tape is finally done?" Gi asked as she sat in the rocking chair with a cup of tea in her hands. "I talked with my family and Mrs. Summers, and we're all gonna watch the video at the exact same time tomorrow. Ma and Mrs. Summers both have three-way on their cells, and they're gonna patch in to Uncle Nicho. At 8:46 tomorrow morning, it's show time." "Then we must get to bed, so we can have breakfast before it is time to play the tape," Kwame suggested as he headed for the kitchen sink and deposited his empty water glass into the sink. "We can still stay up and watch the 11:00 news and go to bed right after it goes off," Linka suggested as she set her mug on the drink coaster to her right. "If we need to we can wake up, watch the tape, and eat after it is over." "That is an excellent suggestion, Linka. We can all set our alarms for a quarter after eight, be able to shower, and still play the video at 8:46." Kwame settled onto the couch next to the Russian. "I thought Cap and Gaia would wanna see it too," Wheeler said as he heated up some milk in hopes that it would help him sleep. "Good idea. We can summon Cap and find Gaia just before we go in to see the video," Ma-Ti agreed. As soon as the news had broadcast and gone off the air for another day, the Planeteers retired to their huts, intending to awaken early enough to shower and call Cap and Gaia. Unfortunately, a series of overcast days resulted in the draining of the alarm clocks' solar batteries, and none of them sounded off at the designated time. However, Wheeler, who had decided to use the alarm from his new watch, woke up to the timepiece's quiet, rhythmic beeps. To his horror, he looked at the display and found that he had made a mistake in setting the wake up time. Oh, no!" he cried out as he leaped from his bed, threw on his bathrobe, and dropped his cell phone into the pocket. Wheeler zoomed out of his hut and banged on Gi, Linka, Kwame, and Ma-Ti's doors. "Get up! We only have about fifteen minutes to call Cap and get Gaia if we're gonna start the tape on time!" he shouted as he pounded on each door. As Linka, Gi, Kwame, and Ma-Ti were quickly tumbling from their beds and donning their bathrobes, Wheeler doubled back to his hut to get his beanbag chair. Within a minute or two, everyone gathered in the common room; and Gaia, having seen the five scrambling to this location, wasted no time in appearing there as well. Without a second to spare, the Planeteers raised their right fists. "Let our powers combine . . . Earth!" "Fire!" "Wind!" "Water!" "Heart!" The five colored beams converged and formed the blue-skinned hero who immediately landed onto the floor, sensing that there was no time for the announcement of powers combining or the call, "Go, Planet!" Cap, Kwame, and Ma-Ti promptly planted themselves onto the couch; Linka threw herself into the rocker; Gi dropped to a large pillow on the floor; Wheeler flopped into his beanbag; and Gaia stood close by. By the time Wheeler fed his masterpiece into the VCR and clutched the remote in his right hand, his cell phone rang. "Yeah, Ma . . . I got it . . . "He kept a careful eye on his watch and waited for the time to read 8:46 a.m. "Three . . . two . . . one!" With that he pushed the play button on the remote, bringing his opus to life. As the video opened, an American flag flashed across the screen before revealing the New York City skyline, including the ill-fated twin towers, and Enya's "Only Time" began to play. Soon, the music dropped slightly in volume, and Wheeler's voice joined the mix. "On Monday, September 10, 2001, two matching towers stood tall and seemed indestructible; children were studying American history from text books; people were lining up in front of movie theaters and amusement parks; we were scrambling, too busy to spend any time with our families and friends; and hard-working executives were running to the Almighty Dollar." The skyline faded to the rubble that was once the World Trade Center, and Wheeler's voiceover continued as the chorus of Don Hendley's "New York Minute" replaced "Only Time". "But on Tuesday, September 11, Those two towers fell like a house of playing cards; children were watching American history on TV; people were lining up in front of blood banks and recruiting offices; we dropped everything in order to spend time with our families and friends; and everybody was running to their Almighty Creator." As the shots of the rescue workers and their demonstration of devoted team work appeared, Mariah Carey's "Hero" began to Play. "September 11th brought out a renewed spirit of team work in The Big Apple. Rescue workers went above and beyond the call of duty, doing the backbreaking task of cleaning away the World Trade Center rubble. Countless civilians did everything they could to help the rescue and clean-up effort. Even people who only thought about themselves and their own personal gain volunteered their time with the intent of helping strangers who needed them." As a gentle piano instrumental version of "Amazing Grace" began to play, scenes of outdoor worship services and other church held vigils showed on the screen. "Bibles disappeared from store shelves as quickly as American flags did, and people who looked to God for feelings of security and reassurance read scriptures over and over again. Before the attacks, church attendance was not at the top of many people's list, but this tragedy taught them just how fragile life really is. Some people wanted to know why the United States was attacked, and they fled to churches in search of a feeling of peace again." As Psalm 121:3 flashed across the bottom of the screen, wheeler quoted, "He will not let your foot slip - he who watches over you will not slumber. Others found themselves in Sunday services in search of comfort after having lost a friend or loved one. There were people who felt very much alone, and they were comforted in knowing that even if they were widowed or orphaned they had a Heavenly Father who would never leave them." As Psalm 145:18 flashed at the bottom of the screen, Wheeler cited another scripture, "The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth." The image of Nicho's spray-painting of the American flag onto that wall faded in. As the scenes of the mural's completion and the addition of victims' names next to it unfolded, Lee Greenwood's "Proud to Be an American" played in the background. During this segment, Wheeler did no voice-over; instead, he was seen on the video spray-painting his childhood chum's name on that wall. The finale of Wheeler's tribute featured various home video clips of the late and beloved Trevor Summers and Debbie Terrelli. Clips from Christmas gatherings, family reunions, class events and graduation ceremonies immortalized these two special people, and Wheeler resumed his voice over while the second verse and chorus of "Imagine" played in the background. "What's the difference between the victims of September 11th and you or me? There is no difference. These people started their day like they would start any other. They went to work; they visited friends; they took business trips or vacations. If not for nineteen men who hijacked planes with plans to crash them, those people would still be here today. They did nothing wrong, and they did not deserve to die; so we cannot let their deaths be in vain. We must remember them fondly and think of them often, especially on holidays and special occasions. We should keep the flags flying high, not only to express our patriotism, but to remember those we lost in the worst terrorist attack in our country's history." The last sequence to appear on the video was that of an American flag waving in the wind. As a recording of a band rendering, "God Bless America" played, Wheeler closed out his tribute by saying: "For those of who are old enough to remember what happened on that horrible Tuesday, the date of September 11, 2001, will be remembered as a day on which we gained a new appreciation for our freedom, and a day on which our lives were changed forever." Author's note: It is Friday, September 19, 2003, and September 11 lives on in our memories and our hearts. Unfortunately, the burst of patriotism is deflating, and we are in danger of slipping back into complacency. We must continue to honor our loved ones who were lost in the attacks and our military who are constantly placing themselves in harm's way to protect us on the home front. We need to keep our flags flying high; and we should pay tribute to our country by praying for our military, those who were touched by the terrorist attacks, and our leaders whose jobs became much more difficult because of those attacks. It is sad to think that it took a national tragedy to pull us all together, and it is my hope that we can remember that close-knit spirit and continue to pull together even during the quiet times. God bless. |