Scarecrow and Mrs. King
"Alone in the Darkness"
A filler scene for "Mission of Gold"
Written by Anne Riener
"Mission of Gold" was written by Lynne Kelsey which originally aired on February 20, 1987.
"Alone in the Darkness"
A filler scene for "Mission of Gold"
Written by Anne Riener
"Mission of Gold" was written by Lynne Kelsey which originally aired on February 20, 1987.
Lee Stetson sat stoically in the frigid waiting room silently wondering why hospitals were always so cold. The fluorescent overhead lights cast a harsh glow on the faces that had been nothing but a blur to him since his arrival a few hours ago. He could hear the clattering of carts blend with the occasional sounds of laughter coming from the nurse’s station. Somewhere a toddler screamed and a mother tried to hush the child. Assaulting his senses were the distasteful, overpowering smells of disinfectant, ammonia, urine, and . . . death.
The mark of death had manifested itself upon him again. Lee had been orphaned at a young age following the deaths of his parents and then his maternal grandmother. He had gone on to live with his uncle, a stern career military man, where he spent the rest of his youth moving from base to base, never around long enough to make friends. In his adulthood, he had lost many friends while working as an intelligence operative—including Dorothy, the first close friend he had ever lost, followed by the loss of his friend and partner who had taken a bullet that had been meant for him.
The hardened agent showed no emotion as he waited for news on his wife, but inside his heart was breaking. He was sure it had shattered into a million tiny pieces. It had been so much easier not to become attached since people merely disappoint or leave and for over thirty years he had been the lone wolf, a way of life that worked fine for him—until the day she walked into his life and changed—everything. This woman who not only saved his miserable existence, but had also picked up the broken pieces and made him whole again.
Why was fate so cruel?
Fate had brought her to him when he’d needed her the most. A chance encounter with a stranger at a train station that led to him finding the person he hadn’t realized he was looking for. She was the innocent in all this. If he could, in a heartbeat, he would gladly trade places with her, and thought he might as well be dead, for without Amanda, his life would have no meaning.
His mind drifted back to earlier in the morning. The weather was beautiful; palm trees gently blew in the sea breeze, the faint smell of the salty Pacific Ocean was in the air, and the warm sun filtered through the windshield of their rental car as he drove down the California highway. Lee lowered the visor to block the sun from his eyes. Then glancing over at his beautiful partner, he smiled. Her eyes met his and she smiled back.
Two days ago, he had given his heart completely to her. Hell, she had grabbed his heart three and a half years ago when she had agreed to walk with him that fateful October morning. Overcome by the desire to touch her, he’d reached over and grabbed her hand. Raising it to his mouth, he’d tenderly kissed her wrist. Little did he know in less than an hour she would be fighting for her life.
“California was a great idea for our honeymoon,” she’d said to him.
“Getting married was a better one,” he’d told her. “You know, Barney’s gonna love you. He’s like family—and while my uncle was traipsing around the world, Barney sat in sort of as a backup dad. I spent more time in his mess hall than in school.”
“You wanna tell him we’re married, don’t you?” Amanda had asked him.
Lee mentally shook his head. How was it she could read him like a book? He was ready to bust and knew she was, too.
He continued to drive along the highway toward the pier in Las Palmas. They had settled on meeting Lee’s old friend Barney there, because they were behind schedule. A smile curled Lee’s lips thinking about the reason why they were running late.
After Lee pulled the car up to the dock, he stepped out and stretched. When all of a sudden, he heard his friend Barney frantically call out, “Get down, Lee! They’re shooting at us!”
On instinct, Lee hollered to his wife, “Amanda, in the car!”
Lee ducked behind the vehicle, grabbed his 9mm from its holster, and searched for the gunman. He heard the sound of bullets ricocheting off a chain-link fence post, and then—silence. Thinking it was safe, he opened the car door, and saw his wife lying motionless against the driver’s door window. Blood soaking through her white sweater. "Oh, my God."
Rushing over to the passenger side of the car, he threw the door open, and pulled her close to him. His heart leapt into his throat. “Amanda,” he managed to choke out, but she was unresponsive. In the background, he heard Barney say, “I’ll call for an ambulance.”
Lee cradled her limp body in his arms, her face ashen, her breathing irregular, he could feel her life draining from her body, just like when Dorothy had died. He felt his life crashing down around him. What had started out as the happiest weekend of his life had cruelly twisted into a nightmare. She was his life, his other half, and he didn’t want to let her go. When help did arrive, a paramedic had to forcefully remove him to get to her.
Sitting there in the waiting room scenes continued to play in his mind; the paramedics standing over her trying to save her life, the even larger bloodstain on the other side of her sweater when they rolled her over, the woman he vowed to stand by in sickness and health being loaded into the back of an ambulance.
Anger welled up inside him, and in a moment of weakness, he pounded the armrest with his fist, then he looked up at the ceiling, blinking several times.
Damn, why do they always have to make these lights so bright!
Reining in his emotions, he clenched his jaw so tightly it throbbed, but nothing compared to the dull ache in the pit of his stomach.
“I guess you tough guys aren’t so tough after all," Amanda had told him.
Leaning forward, he covered his face with his hands and closed his eyes. Waves of memories crashed over him and his mind wandered back in time.
He was riding in the backseat of a sedan with his uncle, who was wearing dress-blues with rows of service ribbons across his chest and Major bars on his epaulets. They had just left his grandmother’s gravesite. Lee remembered being cold, scared, and all alone. He stared out the window silently crying. Tears streaked his young face, but he dared not let his uncle see—the Major had already told him soldiers don’t cry, but all Lee wanted to do was climb up into his uncle’s lap and be told everything was going to be all right—just like his mum had done when he was afraid or sad.
Lee shook off the recollection wondering why that particular memory had crossed his mind. Then as if reading his thoughts, Barney lightly touched his shoulder. “She'll be fine, Lee.”
However, it wasn’t going to be fine. It was his fault Amanda had been shot. His fault she was fighting for her life. His fault the boys would grow up without their mother. His fault—because he had let her get too close.
You’re a fool, Stetson. A fool to think you could love Amanda and she wouldn’t get hurt. You lost everyone else who was ever close to you, what made you think Amanda would be different?
Amanda had told him earlier what a great idea it had been to be on their honeymoon in California—away from the bitter cold of Arlington, Virginia. Unable to get warm—Lee involuntarily shivered, while his mind drifted to another childhood memory.
Lee and the Major had walked into the mess hall kitchen and saw Barney standing over the stove.
“Sarge, what’s for dinner?” his uncle asked.
Barney turned around and smiled at Lee. “How are you feeling, Sport?”
“Fine,” Lee managed to squeak out.
Barney then addressed the Major, “The men had pork and beans, but I can whip up something special for Lee.”
“Nonsense,” the Major replied, his voice harsh and cold. “He doesn’t need anything special. He can have what the rest of us are eating.”
“Major Clayton, Sir, the boy just had his tonsils removed—”
“We don’t want to spoil him—he can have what the rest of us are eating,” his uncle repeated firmly.
*****
“Lee?” Barney came into his room and switched on the lamp on his nightstand.
Lee sat on the edge of the bed; his flushed cheeks tear streaked. Using the sleeve from his pajama top, he wiped away the tears and snot from under his nose.
“Are you alright?” Barney sat next to Lee, handing him a tissue.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“What for?”
Lee dabbed his eyes. “For seeing me cry.”
Barney shrugged lightly. “I cry.”
“You do?”
“Sure, I do, and you wouldn’t think any less of me, would you?”
“No, Sir.”
“What have I told you, Lee? Call me Barney or Sarge.” He put his arm around Lee. “Now, can you tell me what’s wrong?”
Lee sniffled, trying to hold back his tears. “I hate hospitals, I hate my uncle, and I HATE beans.” He buried his head in Barney’s chest and wept.
Barney patted him on the back several times. “There. There. Let it all out.”
“They . . . they wouldn’t let me be with Grandma . . . hospital . . . rules . . . Mum. . . Dad . . .”
“I know. Life has dealt you a tough hand.” Barney lifted Lee’s chin and looked into his eyes. “I promise—things will get better.”
Lee stopped crying and held up his finger. “Pinky swear?”
Returning the gesture, Barney smiled. “Pinky swear.”
*****
Glancing down, Lee twisted the gold band adorning the third finger of his left hand. His ring—a token of his eternal love and devotion to her. Having no beginning, and no ending, it symbolized the love between them would never cease.
No, he would not give up hope. She’s fighting. My Amanda would never give up. . .
*****
Lee slowly closed the door to Amanda's hospital room. Gingerly making his way to her bedside, he sat down in a chair. He leaned forward, smiling at her. Hearing her moan softly, then turning toward him; her eyes fluttered open. A lump caught in his throat, when she smiled and her beautiful brown eyes tried to focus on him. God, he had missed her!
He smiled back at her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she replied in a weak voice. Pain was evident in her eyes. “What happened?”
He could tell the drugs and fatigue were taking their toll as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “How about I tell you all about it when you get better, okay?” he said in a husky tone, choked with emotion.
“Did you get the number of that truck?” She grimaced, but a soft smile graced her face.
“You bet I did.”
Stretching her neck toward him, she puckered her lips, silently inviting him to kiss her.
Leaning forward, he slowly closed the distance between them, tasting her sweet lips for the first time in days. He pulled back and gazed upon her face.
“No honeymoon tonight, Pal,” she teased, in spite of the pain.
“Aw, shucks,” he replied back.
“If I go to sleep will you sit with me for a minute?” Her eyes began to droop.
He watched her for a moment and then whispered, “I love you, Mrs. Stetson.”
"Mmm,” he heard her try to respond, but losing the battle of consciousness, she fell back asleep.
Lee laid his head down on the bed next to hers. Closing his eyes, he was content just listening to her breathe. Before exhaustion finally claimed him, a feeling of peace slipped over him like a blanket. For a brief moment, he flashed back to a memory of Rupert Simpson tearing puzzle pieces apart in the conference room of the Agency. Yes, his relationship with Amanda was just like a puzzle and when two pieces fit, they made a whole. He felt whole again. She was alive and had not left him. Lee was grateful for second chances. And maybe, just maybe, fate wasn’t cruel after all.
The mark of death had manifested itself upon him again. Lee had been orphaned at a young age following the deaths of his parents and then his maternal grandmother. He had gone on to live with his uncle, a stern career military man, where he spent the rest of his youth moving from base to base, never around long enough to make friends. In his adulthood, he had lost many friends while working as an intelligence operative—including Dorothy, the first close friend he had ever lost, followed by the loss of his friend and partner who had taken a bullet that had been meant for him.
The hardened agent showed no emotion as he waited for news on his wife, but inside his heart was breaking. He was sure it had shattered into a million tiny pieces. It had been so much easier not to become attached since people merely disappoint or leave and for over thirty years he had been the lone wolf, a way of life that worked fine for him—until the day she walked into his life and changed—everything. This woman who not only saved his miserable existence, but had also picked up the broken pieces and made him whole again.
Why was fate so cruel?
Fate had brought her to him when he’d needed her the most. A chance encounter with a stranger at a train station that led to him finding the person he hadn’t realized he was looking for. She was the innocent in all this. If he could, in a heartbeat, he would gladly trade places with her, and thought he might as well be dead, for without Amanda, his life would have no meaning.
His mind drifted back to earlier in the morning. The weather was beautiful; palm trees gently blew in the sea breeze, the faint smell of the salty Pacific Ocean was in the air, and the warm sun filtered through the windshield of their rental car as he drove down the California highway. Lee lowered the visor to block the sun from his eyes. Then glancing over at his beautiful partner, he smiled. Her eyes met his and she smiled back.
Two days ago, he had given his heart completely to her. Hell, she had grabbed his heart three and a half years ago when she had agreed to walk with him that fateful October morning. Overcome by the desire to touch her, he’d reached over and grabbed her hand. Raising it to his mouth, he’d tenderly kissed her wrist. Little did he know in less than an hour she would be fighting for her life.
“California was a great idea for our honeymoon,” she’d said to him.
“Getting married was a better one,” he’d told her. “You know, Barney’s gonna love you. He’s like family—and while my uncle was traipsing around the world, Barney sat in sort of as a backup dad. I spent more time in his mess hall than in school.”
“You wanna tell him we’re married, don’t you?” Amanda had asked him.
Lee mentally shook his head. How was it she could read him like a book? He was ready to bust and knew she was, too.
He continued to drive along the highway toward the pier in Las Palmas. They had settled on meeting Lee’s old friend Barney there, because they were behind schedule. A smile curled Lee’s lips thinking about the reason why they were running late.
After Lee pulled the car up to the dock, he stepped out and stretched. When all of a sudden, he heard his friend Barney frantically call out, “Get down, Lee! They’re shooting at us!”
On instinct, Lee hollered to his wife, “Amanda, in the car!”
Lee ducked behind the vehicle, grabbed his 9mm from its holster, and searched for the gunman. He heard the sound of bullets ricocheting off a chain-link fence post, and then—silence. Thinking it was safe, he opened the car door, and saw his wife lying motionless against the driver’s door window. Blood soaking through her white sweater. "Oh, my God."
Rushing over to the passenger side of the car, he threw the door open, and pulled her close to him. His heart leapt into his throat. “Amanda,” he managed to choke out, but she was unresponsive. In the background, he heard Barney say, “I’ll call for an ambulance.”
Lee cradled her limp body in his arms, her face ashen, her breathing irregular, he could feel her life draining from her body, just like when Dorothy had died. He felt his life crashing down around him. What had started out as the happiest weekend of his life had cruelly twisted into a nightmare. She was his life, his other half, and he didn’t want to let her go. When help did arrive, a paramedic had to forcefully remove him to get to her.
Sitting there in the waiting room scenes continued to play in his mind; the paramedics standing over her trying to save her life, the even larger bloodstain on the other side of her sweater when they rolled her over, the woman he vowed to stand by in sickness and health being loaded into the back of an ambulance.
Anger welled up inside him, and in a moment of weakness, he pounded the armrest with his fist, then he looked up at the ceiling, blinking several times.
Damn, why do they always have to make these lights so bright!
Reining in his emotions, he clenched his jaw so tightly it throbbed, but nothing compared to the dull ache in the pit of his stomach.
“I guess you tough guys aren’t so tough after all," Amanda had told him.
Leaning forward, he covered his face with his hands and closed his eyes. Waves of memories crashed over him and his mind wandered back in time.
He was riding in the backseat of a sedan with his uncle, who was wearing dress-blues with rows of service ribbons across his chest and Major bars on his epaulets. They had just left his grandmother’s gravesite. Lee remembered being cold, scared, and all alone. He stared out the window silently crying. Tears streaked his young face, but he dared not let his uncle see—the Major had already told him soldiers don’t cry, but all Lee wanted to do was climb up into his uncle’s lap and be told everything was going to be all right—just like his mum had done when he was afraid or sad.
Lee shook off the recollection wondering why that particular memory had crossed his mind. Then as if reading his thoughts, Barney lightly touched his shoulder. “She'll be fine, Lee.”
However, it wasn’t going to be fine. It was his fault Amanda had been shot. His fault she was fighting for her life. His fault the boys would grow up without their mother. His fault—because he had let her get too close.
You’re a fool, Stetson. A fool to think you could love Amanda and she wouldn’t get hurt. You lost everyone else who was ever close to you, what made you think Amanda would be different?
Amanda had told him earlier what a great idea it had been to be on their honeymoon in California—away from the bitter cold of Arlington, Virginia. Unable to get warm—Lee involuntarily shivered, while his mind drifted to another childhood memory.
Lee and the Major had walked into the mess hall kitchen and saw Barney standing over the stove.
“Sarge, what’s for dinner?” his uncle asked.
Barney turned around and smiled at Lee. “How are you feeling, Sport?”
“Fine,” Lee managed to squeak out.
Barney then addressed the Major, “The men had pork and beans, but I can whip up something special for Lee.”
“Nonsense,” the Major replied, his voice harsh and cold. “He doesn’t need anything special. He can have what the rest of us are eating.”
“Major Clayton, Sir, the boy just had his tonsils removed—”
“We don’t want to spoil him—he can have what the rest of us are eating,” his uncle repeated firmly.
*****
“Lee?” Barney came into his room and switched on the lamp on his nightstand.
Lee sat on the edge of the bed; his flushed cheeks tear streaked. Using the sleeve from his pajama top, he wiped away the tears and snot from under his nose.
“Are you alright?” Barney sat next to Lee, handing him a tissue.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“What for?”
Lee dabbed his eyes. “For seeing me cry.”
Barney shrugged lightly. “I cry.”
“You do?”
“Sure, I do, and you wouldn’t think any less of me, would you?”
“No, Sir.”
“What have I told you, Lee? Call me Barney or Sarge.” He put his arm around Lee. “Now, can you tell me what’s wrong?”
Lee sniffled, trying to hold back his tears. “I hate hospitals, I hate my uncle, and I HATE beans.” He buried his head in Barney’s chest and wept.
Barney patted him on the back several times. “There. There. Let it all out.”
“They . . . they wouldn’t let me be with Grandma . . . hospital . . . rules . . . Mum. . . Dad . . .”
“I know. Life has dealt you a tough hand.” Barney lifted Lee’s chin and looked into his eyes. “I promise—things will get better.”
Lee stopped crying and held up his finger. “Pinky swear?”
Returning the gesture, Barney smiled. “Pinky swear.”
*****
Glancing down, Lee twisted the gold band adorning the third finger of his left hand. His ring—a token of his eternal love and devotion to her. Having no beginning, and no ending, it symbolized the love between them would never cease.
No, he would not give up hope. She’s fighting. My Amanda would never give up. . .
*****
Lee slowly closed the door to Amanda's hospital room. Gingerly making his way to her bedside, he sat down in a chair. He leaned forward, smiling at her. Hearing her moan softly, then turning toward him; her eyes fluttered open. A lump caught in his throat, when she smiled and her beautiful brown eyes tried to focus on him. God, he had missed her!
He smiled back at her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she replied in a weak voice. Pain was evident in her eyes. “What happened?”
He could tell the drugs and fatigue were taking their toll as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “How about I tell you all about it when you get better, okay?” he said in a husky tone, choked with emotion.
“Did you get the number of that truck?” She grimaced, but a soft smile graced her face.
“You bet I did.”
Stretching her neck toward him, she puckered her lips, silently inviting him to kiss her.
Leaning forward, he slowly closed the distance between them, tasting her sweet lips for the first time in days. He pulled back and gazed upon her face.
“No honeymoon tonight, Pal,” she teased, in spite of the pain.
“Aw, shucks,” he replied back.
“If I go to sleep will you sit with me for a minute?” Her eyes began to droop.
He watched her for a moment and then whispered, “I love you, Mrs. Stetson.”
"Mmm,” he heard her try to respond, but losing the battle of consciousness, she fell back asleep.
Lee laid his head down on the bed next to hers. Closing his eyes, he was content just listening to her breathe. Before exhaustion finally claimed him, a feeling of peace slipped over him like a blanket. For a brief moment, he flashed back to a memory of Rupert Simpson tearing puzzle pieces apart in the conference room of the Agency. Yes, his relationship with Amanda was just like a puzzle and when two pieces fit, they made a whole. He felt whole again. She was alive and had not left him. Lee was grateful for second chances. And maybe, just maybe, fate wasn’t cruel after all.
