BROTHERLY LOVE

"That's it! This is the last ball I'm chasing for you," Charlesmuttered to himself as he jogged after the ball Evan had just thrownover his head. "Why did I let him talk me into this? It must be ahundred degrees out here." Finally cornering the battered baseball,he picked it up and hurled it as high and far as he could, wanting tomake Evan chase it for once. To his annoyance, his younger brotherturned, following its trajectory with apparent ease, and made aperfect running catch.

The sun was bright, harsh and incessant and the grass shimmered inthe heat. An open field in Central Park was no place to be playingball during a record breaking heat wave.

Pulling off his catcher's mitt, Charles swiped ineffectually atthe sweat running down his face and headed for the shade of thenearest tree.

"Come on! Aren't you going to play anymore?" Evan took a fewdisappointed steps in his direction.

"No!" Charles shouted back. "I'm hot and I'm tired and I'm goingto sit in the shade and read!" Pulling his latest computer magazineout of his pocket, he proceeded to do just that.

Evan grumbled a little and wandered away to play. Tugging backthe sleeves of his sweater, he began to throw the ball high in theair. The heat seemed not to affect him as it did Charles.Engrossed inan article on voice-activated communication systems, Charles wassnapped back to reality by a piercing shriek punctuated by the soundof crashing foliage.His first instinct was to look for his brother,but all that occupied the open space was a ball and glove nestedtogether in the grass.

Tossing his magazine aside, Charles clambered hastily to his feet."Evan!" he called, irritation edging his voice. "Where are you?"

A weak cry from some nearby underbrush caught his attention. Evantended to cry 'wolf' and Charles usually ignored him, but somethingin Evan's voice was different this time.

With a sigh, he followed the sound and found Evan sprawled on theground at the foot of a tree, arms and face scratched and scraped,nested in a bed of broken branches and torn leaves.

"What happened?"

"I was climbing and I fell."

"Are you okay?" Charles knelt down in concern.

"I don't know," Evan said, his face very white beneath thescratches. "My leg hurts."

Charles touched the offending leg and Evan gasped. "Don't!"

"Can you move it?" Charles asked.

Evan tried and shook his head. "It hurts too much." He was on theverge of tears. "Charles, do something!"

Charles wondered wildly what he should do. "Do you think you canwalk if I help you?"

"No. It hurts!" Evan whimpered with pain.

Charles made a sudden decision. "Stay here. I'm going for help."The nearest entrance to the tunnels was a few hundred yards away. Ifhe ran as hard as he could and received a prompt answer on the pipes,he would only be gone for a few minutes.

Evan seized his arm. "Don't leave me!"

Charles was getting desperate. "Evan, I can't help you bymyself!"

Evan's gaze shifted to something behind Charles and the older boyturned to look. A mounted police officer was trotting his horsetoward them.

"Is there a problem here?" the officer asked as he pulled hishorse up a few feet away.

Making another quick decision, Charles said, "Yes, sir. My brotherfell. I think he broke his leg."

The officer assessed Charles for a moment, then apparently decidedhe was telling the truth and dismounted. Looping the reins over hisarm, he came closer and bent over Evan.

"What's your name, son?" he asked.

"I'm Evan Chandler," the boy told him.

"Is this your brother?"

Evan nodded and Charles looked at the officer doubtfully. Despitethe differences in their coloring, most people could tell right awaythat he and Evan were brothers. On the other hand, he and Evan hadboth dressed for the tunnels this morning and, when they came above,had simply removed a few layers in deference to the heat. He supposedhe couldn't blame the officer for being a little suspicious.

Pulling his portable radio from its holster, the officer turned toCharles. "Is there someone we should call?"

Charles shook his head. "No, sir. My mother's out of town."

The officer looked at him sharply. "You boys aren't staying byyourselves, are you?"

"Oh, no, sir!" Charles assured him quickly. "Our father's here.But he's not where he can be reached right now."

The officer looked skeptical as he depressed the call button onhis radio and began to speak.

"I have a boy, approximately..." he looked at Evan appraisingly,asking in an aside, "How old are you, son?"

"I'll be nine in October," Evan told him.

"...eight years old with a possible broken leg. An older brothersays parents are unavailable. We need paramedics..."

He went on to give their precise location as Charles and Evanexchanged worried glances.

"Isn't there anyone we can contact?" the officer asked, finishinghis transmission and turning to the boys again.

Charles began to shake his head. Evan spoke weakly. "How aboutUncle Joe?"

The policeman jumped at the name. "Your uncle. Where can we get intouch with him?"

"He's not really our uncle," Charles explained warily. "He's anold friend of our mother's. We just call him that."

"Well, maybe he can help," the officer persisted. "What's hisname?"

"Joe Maxwell."

The officer's eyes widened. "The District Attorney?"Charles noddedand he could see a new measure of respect in the man's eyes.

"Hey, your mother wouldn't be Catherine Chandler?"

Charles nodded again and the policeman chuckled. "I was a witnessin a case she prosecuted not too long ago. She's good!"

Charles smiled and the officer got back on the radio. "Try to gethold of Joe Maxwell ...yes, I mean the D.A. ...These kids are sons ofone of his deputies... Chandler, Evan and..." he looked at Charlesquestioningly and the boy obligingly gave his own name. The officerfinished giving his dispatcher the information and reholstered theradio as the paramedic van bumped over the grass toward them.

Quickly and efficiently, the paramedics immobilized Evan's leg,lifted him to a stretcher and loaded him into the back of theirvehicle. Charles climbed in beside him and held his brother's hand.

It was a short trip to the hospital and soon Evan occupied acubicle in the busy Emergency room with Charles waiting beside him. Adoctor came in, gave Evan a cursory examination, and left without aword of explanation. A nurse peeked in at them a time or two, but itsoon became apparent that they were being ignored.

Evan was in more pain now, moaning softly. Finally Charles hadenough.

"I'll be right back," he whispered. Disregarding Evan's protests,he marched to the nurse's station. "Why isn't anyone doing anythingfor my brother?" he demanded.

A nurse looked up, startled. "Who's your brother?" she asked.

Charles told her and her expression changed to one of compassion."I'm sorry," she said. "Someone should have told you. We can't treathim until we can get permission from one of your parents."

"But my mother's out of town and my father can't be reached!"Charles exploded.

"We know that," the nurse tried to soothe him. "We've contactedthe D.A.'s office and they are trying to reach your mother. As soonas we talk to her, we can take care of your brother's leg."

Charles gaped at her helplessly as she turned back to herpaperwork. He couldn't believe they were just going to let Evan wait."Can't I give my permission?" he asked, despairingly.

The nurse looked up again. "How old are you?" she asked himgently.

"Fourteen."

She smiled regretfully. "I'm sorry. You're too young."

"Then... is there a phone I can use?"

"There's a pay phone over there," she pointed.

Charles felt his pockets. "I don't have any money."

The nurse looked at him for a few seconds and pushed the deskphone toward him. "Local call only," she warned.

Charles nodded and reached for the receiver. He made four phonecalls in rapid succession. First he tried the D.A.'s office, hopingto speak to Uncle Joe, but was informed that Joe was at City Hall,meeting with the mayor and the police commissioner. His secretaryassured Charles that everything possible was being done to locate hismother.

Peter Alcott's answering service informed him impersonally thatDr. Alcott was off today and Dr. Browning was taking calls. Did hewant Dr. Browning's office number?

Jenny Aronson wasn't in her office, but she, at least, wasexpected back soon, so he left a message with her secretary. Charlesmade one more brief call before thanking the nurse and returning toEvan.

"They're trying to find Mother," he explained. "She has to givethem permission to take care of you and I guess she's not at herhotel." He grinned. "She's probably taken Vicky sightseeing," he sa ğly, in an effort to distract Evan from his pain.

When she had to go out of town, Catherine often took one or moreof the children along. This time it was Vicky's turn.

Another half-hour passed slowly as Charles joked and kidded withEvan, trying to distract him. Evan listened gamely, but the tensionin his face reflected the pain he was feeling. Finally, an orderlystuck his head into the cubicle.

"Charles Chandler?" he asked. "Telephone call for you at thedesk."

Charles hurried to the phone and the nurse showed him which lineto pick up.

"Hello?" he said tentatively, wondering who could be calling himhere, and hoping desperately that it was someone who could dosomething. He sagged against the wall at the welcome sound of hismother's voice.

"Charles, are you all right?"

"It's not me, it's Evan," he began, but she interrupted.

"I know. I've already given them permission to treat him, but Iwanted to be sure you're all right."

Charles sighed. "I am now."

"Charles, you'll need to call someone to come get you. Thehospital won't release Evan to you, only to an adult."

"I already did. I left a message for Aunt Jenny."

"Good. And you need to get word to your father. He'll beworried."

Charles grinned into the phone. "I already did that, too. I calledone of the helpers and asked him to send a message down."

There was a brief silence. "It sounds as if you've taken care ofeverything," she said. In her voice, Charles could hear pride mingledwith a faint touch of surprise.

"I was scared, Mother," he confessed.

"You did all the right things, Charles. I'm proud of you."Charlessaw the doctor entering Evan's cubicle. "I have to go now. They'relooking at Evan." Without saying goodbye, he hung up the phone andwent back to hold Evan's hand.

They reached home two hours later. Aunt Jenny had arrived at thehospital just as the doctor finished casting Evan's leg and shebrought them home in a cab. Evan tried to maneuver up the steps tothe front door, but the painkillers they had given him at thehospital were making him woozy and he stumbled.Charles took thecrutches away and handed them to Jenny, gathering himself and liftingEvan in his arms. The younger boy was too sleepy to give more than atoken protest as Charles carried him up.

The door opened and Jacob peeked out. "Evan has a cast!" he saidin awe, pulling the door wide and stepping out of the way. Charlescarried his brother through the foyer and saw his father waiting inthe shadowed hallway, his eyes full of concern. Stepping forward,Vincent took Evan gently into his own arms.

Charles felt relief as the burden of responsibility was liftedfrom his shoulders, but he also felt an inexplicable sense of loss.Uncertainly, he stood at the foot of the stairs.

Vincent turned. "Charles, you took on a great responsibilitytoday, and you handled it well. A father could hope for no more fromhis son."

To his acute embarrassment, Charles began to blush. "I didn't doanything," he protested. "After all, he's my brother."

THE END