Chapter 19

"Penny for them"

"Uh?"

"Your miles away, what's wrong John, you have been pretty quiet all day?"

"Mmm"

"So, are you gonna tell?"

I remained silent, and concentrated on the drive back home; I smiled at ma then continued with the drive. Arriving back home we both headed into the house and straight to the living room. Immediately the questions began...

"Ok John, we are home, so tell what's eating you?"

"Nothing, just leave it"

"No, I've been married to you long enough to know when something is on your mind, so give."

"Can’t a pop be worried for his son?"

"Yeah of course he can, but there's more than that."

I paced the room and picked up the TV remote, aiming it at the screen it buzzed to life. The news channel was on and the last few seconds of the latest story aired......

"Again if anyone knows the where about of Dr George Manning, please contact this number... 0900-515-5299 ...  and now for the weather..."

I looked at ma, she had no idea what she had seen on the news, I did.

She walked over to me, trying to soften me with another tactic, slipping her arms around my waist she tried to gently coerce me to tell her.

How could I tell her the person that was mentioned on the news was responsible for her son lying at deaths door in a hospital? I couldn't, not yet.

I looked down into her blue eyes that looked up at me searching for the answers. She was right I could not keep back anything and she had always been able to read me like a book, but this time I had to keep what I knew inside.

"John, please, tell me.... whatever it is we can handle it together."

"Carol please.... let it be......"

"Let it be?"

"Yeah, there's nothing to tell, I'm tired and just worried about our son. I never expected to spend the day in hospital celebrating my sons 28th birthday, fuck, I never expected to have to be tested for a kidney to save his life, and you want to know what's wrong....."

"I'm sorry, your right, I am over reacting....right?... but I know I'm not ........am I?, .......but I'll let it be for now....."

I kissed her head and gave her a weak smile. She pulled back from me and she turned to walk off to the kitchen,

"So, what would you like to eat?"

"Anything"

"Broth?, a full meal?, idea's tell me?"

"Anything, whatever you make is fine with me."

"Ok, I’ll go see what there is..."

She left the room and I sat down and thought about what I had done to get justice for my son.

It had been about a week ago, a week last Thursday in fact, I went along to Doc McGhee's office with some of my Italian American friends. Richie had given me the address details. 

When we arrived we walked up the stairs and straight into his office. He was sat behind his desk on the phone; he hung up as soon as we entered.

I'll not go into the finer details, but let's just say that the discussion we had was very interesting. Within minutes I had the name of the Dr that had injected our son, and with a little persuasion he gave us all the back ground information on this man too.

It turns out that Dr George Manning was an unlicensed Dr after he had worked with a coach of the USA Olympic Team in Sareavo in 1982.

He had been in charge of the athletics team.  There was a great up and coming Gymnast named Santos Cherney, Manning was in charge of injuries and physio and the like, he was a real smooth talker and managed to convinced the coach that to get better performances from the team; a shot of a steroid would enhance the chance of winning more gold medals and aid the injuries to repair themselves.

The off shot was the young gymnast Santos, died. Then while awaiting trial Manning took off and went into hiding. The coach stood trial and was found guilty of manslaughter and served 10 years in jail. A hunt for Manning entailed but they could not find him. The ironic thing is, McGhee and Manning had both been at the same university so they already knew each other. Doc made contact with Manning and hired him to come on tour with the band.

The steroids he used, I now know were not the American Medical Association approved drugs, which are metered does, he bought the steroids used to inject Jon from the black market.

So, armed with this information I went off to the police and gave all my evidence, I had to tell of what happened to Jon, but sworn signed promises, called avadavits will ensure my sons name stays out of it, he will be known as celebrity A when the trial starts and it will start, So now the TV campaign to find the son of a bitch is underway and for justice to be done, for the kid that died and my son that is fighting for his life right now.

The door to the lounge opened and in walked ma with a tray of food. My hunger was low but I knew I had to eat; I smiled and gratefully accepted the tray with food.

She disappeared and re appeared with her food tray too, taking a seat on the sofa next to me she ate her meal. I sensed there was going to be questions, but I was not ready for the one that came first.

“John, you do love me right?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“One that I need you to answer?”

“Of course I love you, why would you ask such a stupid question?”

“mmm, just hear me out ok?”

I took a mouthful of the beef hash and chewed, the meal was delicious, but my appetite was lost on me, I chewed my food and listened to my wife.

“We have been married a long, long time John, you know everything there is to know about me, warts and all, just as I know everything about you. So if you love me as much as you say you do, why won’t you tell me the truth about what is bothering you? Nothing you can say is going to make things any worse, in fact it may help. I am strong and don’t need protecting, yes I know that is what you are trying to do, so come on give.”

I sat and took in her talk, it was true, out of the two of us, carol was stronger than I was, but I just did not know.... I did not want to tell her in case we could not find a donor match for Jon and he died, worst case scenario I grant you, but I just felt it was right that I kept it to myself for the time being. My other concern now was; there was no way she would quit, she would just keep on at me. I sat thinking and eating my meal, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you going to say nothing to me?”

Taking a deep breath, I answered her;

“Carol, look, there is something ok, but I beg you please, let it be... at least for now, as soon as we find a donor for our son and he has the operation I promise I will tell you everything. Will you grant me that grace Please?”

She looked at me, a concerned look on her beautiful face, her eye’s glazed, but at last she spoke, far softer this time and without force.

“Ok, I’ll do as you ask, I am really not happy about it, but I trust you and will wait for you to confide in me and share with me whatever it is that you think you cannot tell me now, I will let you do it in your own time.”

She reached over and took my hand, reassuring me she supported me. That was a comfort but time was the enemy and we needed to move things fast.