Chapter 6

“You were about this close to intubation, Mister,” the on duty nurse said, waking me from a shallow sleep. She held up a pinch to demonstrate how close I had come to getting a tube shoved down my throat. Her words felt like an admonition; as if I had intentionally locked myself into a burning garage. Tube or no tube, it felt like my lungs were dryer than death and twice as ugly. I offered her a mischievous smile to make up for my perceived sins.

“Your friend saved your life, you know,” she continued, adjusting the nose tube that shot a steady cold stream of air into me. I squinted to read her nameplate. Thelma Reynolds. I hadn’t yet decided if she was kind or mean. Her words said nice, but the harsh bun of grey-streaked black hair pulled to the back of her head and the frown creases around her mouth said otherwise.

“If he hadn’t hauled you out of that garage, I’d be talking to an empty bed right now. Just as well he did… they think I’m crazy enough around here as it is. No need they see me shoutin’ curses at empty sheets and half-fluffed pillows.”

I smiled and looked to the chair at my bedside. “Where’s-”

“Now don’t get yourself back on the talk circuit just yet, Mr. Wiseguy. You’ll need to save your lungs the anguish.” She stood back and looked me over. “There. That’s better. I don’t know how those things go all askew. How’s that for fresh air?”

With her thick arms crossed, her obscenely ample bosom became even more pronounced. I raised my eyebrows in reply, afraid to open my mouth to speak again.

“You’ll be getting a masked treatment in just a few that’ll put you into your second life. Now if you were a cat, that’d be a good thing. I don’t have to tell you that you’re not. After this treatment, it’ll be good as rain if you stayed away from burning buildings for a very long time. Always would be your best bet.

“I don’t have to tell you this, either. But I’m gonna anyway. I always give the most advice to those who can’t argue or escape. Unless you’re asbestos or Satan, it’s best not to be caught dancing in flames. We can only clean your lungs so many times, Mister.”

Again, I felt admonished. I looked to the chair where Mickey had been the last time I was conscious.

“Him? I sent that one home,” she said. “No place for him to be, sittin’ waiting for you to stir. How are those burns treatin’ you?” She unfolded her arms and moved to roll me onto my side.

It was the first time I felt the pain since it happened. As soon as she had made me aware of it, though, it was the only thing I could think of… even from within the medicated cloud I found myself in.

“These dressings will stay on until the next shift change,” Nurse Reynolds said. She tsked a couple times while inspecting my back; touched a few raw undressed places, causing me to wince and pull back.

“That really hur-”

“Ut tut tut. I told you not to speak. It’s gonna hurt. They’re burns. That’s what they do.” She lowered me gently back in place. “Nothing too too bad, though. Now the papers are gonna want to talk to you, too, like they spoke to that Mickey fella.”

It was so hard to keep track of the conversation. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the medication dripping through my intravenous, or the manic way Thelma Reynolds chose to carry on a conversation.

“Your friend was interviewed yesterday by the Tribune,” she said. I gave her a look of bewilderment. “He did save your life, you know. You were locked into that garage good and tight. Someone out there doesn’t think much of you; that’s for sure. They’d sooner cook ya, as look at ya.”

I scribbled furiously into my hand with a non-existent pen, hoping she would understand the international sign for give me a pen and paper.

“Well, they just happen to be right here.” She opened the top drawer in the bedside table and handed me what I needed. “Make it quick, though. There’s more than you here.”

What day is it? Is Mickey hurt? Do they know what happened?

“Well, you’ve been a guest at the hospital for two days now.” Her index finger went over the list one item at a time. “Your friend is fine. He cut himself on the hand… two stitches-nowhere near as bad as your gashes-and burned his elbow. Just a minor burn. I’m not much of a detective, so I can only speculate. You made somebody mad enough to cook you.”

I brought the pen back to the paper, but she decided to keep on going.

“Your mother was here just a little while ago. If you don’t mind me saying, she didn’t look marathon ready. I was tempted to wake you and tell you to make room for her.

“Only one more visitor while you were sleeping. A big one.”

“What did he look-”

“Do I honestly have to knot a grown man’s tongue?”

I jotted fat? down on the paper and raised my eyebrows in response, prompting her to answer the question.

“Well, he was more Arnold big than Fat Albert big. He said he’d be back later when you were awake. Now I have to go. Rounds don’t stop at you; despite the fact that you’re the biggest news this town has had in months.”

As she was walking out, I quickly jotted down a final reply and tapped the pen rapidly against the pad to get her attention.

Thank you.

“Wasn’t a bother,” she said on her way out the door. “I do have to tell you though. Those vows of silence… they’re Thelma’s orders, not the doctor’s. I’ve been doing this for a long time though, so I know what shakes. You best keep to no-speak for the time being.”

She was gone before I could protest. I looked around uneasily, wracking my brain to come up with who it could have been who paid me a visit while I was out. It was obvious I had to leave. I examined myself and couldn’t see any reason why I had to stay. My back was a blister of heat; my head a fog of thoughts; my hand and arm wrapped and throbbing; and my throat and lungs a gravel mess, but I figured it would be best if I took my chances and took a stroll.

Leaving a hospital in the middle of the afternoon was a lot easier than I expected it would be. I hauled my coat on and merely slipped to the stairwell, made my way down the four flights and let myself out. It was moving on from there that would have proven difficult had Mickey not been sitting on a bench in the adjacent park.

Though he looked forlorn to the point of miserable, I was relieved to see him sitting there. I knew that a man in next to nothing but a coat would somehow be less conspicuous if he was with somebody. Besides that, it was a good time to thank him for being at the right place at the right time.

“Duncan,” he said as he spotted me crossing the road. “You should be inside. You should-”

“Don’t worry about that,” I interrupted. My throat screamed in protest and I suddenly knew that Thelma Reynolds was a very smart woman. “How long have you been here? Did you see any big guys coming or going this morning?”

“Nope. But you should be-”

“Mickey. No. Someone was here to see me. Someone big. The nurse told me he was there when I was sleeping. I don’t know who it was and I don’t want to find out. You have to go get the car, buddy.”

I saw the look of terror in his face and quickly recalled the last time I allowed him to take the wheel. We had ended up in the ditch by Coreman’s Creek and I needed a tow truck to haul me out. Instead of calling myself an ass for allowing him to drive, I screamed bloody murder at Mickey for being dumb enough to land in the ditch.

“You’ll be fine. There’s no mud on city streets. Just zip home, get the keys and drive it over. I’ll take over from there.”

“Oh, Duncan,” he moaned. “I’d rather not. I have to work soon, anyway.”

“I’m not sure what time it is, but it looks like hours before your shift starts, Mickey. Don’t tell me you’re going to leave me here in a hospital gown and a coat. I need you now. I need you to help me.”

He stood and pace for half a minute, knowing he was going to do as I asked but not wanting to in a very big way.

“Okay. But if I get caught-”

“You won’t get caught. Nobody’s looking-”

“Cal’s been all over me the last two days, Duncan. All over me.” He noticed the look of panic on my face. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him a thing. He’s getting pretty angry though. I thought he was gonna hit me, he was so mad this morning.”

I sat down on the bench he had vacated.

“Don’t worry. We have nothing to hide. It’s not like we did anything. We have to remember that. We’re innocent.” Though I had never felt more guilty of a thing in my entire life. I felt like it was me who took the life out of Roni and left her in that field. And I was almost certain that somebody out there was going to sooner or later make it look like I had.

“I’ll be right back. Stay right here. Promise. Promise me you’ll stay right here.”

“I promise. I’ll be glued to this spot.” He looked leery, as though he thought I would dart the moment his back was turned. “Bring me a change of clothes too, would ya Mick. The key’s under the step where I showed you.”

“I don’t like this,” he said as he walked off in the direction of my house. “I don’t like it one bit.”

As soon as he was out of sight I realized I hadn’t thanked him for pulling me out of the garage. It would have to wait.

I felt apprehensive. I was sure that I stuck out like a tiger in a fishbowl. I got up and walked further into the park and found a bench under an elm. I felt slightly less conspicuous there. I nervously awaited Mickey’s arrival while I prayed for the miracle that would get him there in one piece.