A Storied Man

(to go back to Part Nine, click here)

Ronnie stood in the parking lot looking up at his mom’s motionless body on his balcony, next to the man who saved him from Larry in the hospital bathroom. What’s he doing here? “Somebody help her!” he shouted. He started to run toward the front patio.

Doyle’s thick arm shot out to stop him before he got past Phong’s police cruiser. “Whoa, son, we have to let our officers secure the apartment and bring her out of there first. We don’t know who’s in there or what they might do if you try to be a hero. Not to mention the tear gas.”

“Well, tell them to hurry. She could be dying up there!”

A man wearing a tie and standing next to an unmarked car spoke up. “They’re working as quickly as they can. We don’t want to get anybody else hurt by overlooking something.”

“Judging from what I see here, I’d say somebody already did that,” Grandpa said. “Mr.?”

“Detective. Wallace Davies.” The tall man, sporting a beer gut, reached out to shake hands with Grandpa.

Grandpa didn’t return it. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, detective. We’ll have plenty to discuss later.”

Phong muttered to Doyle, “Wonder why Chief sent Davies instead of Padgett?”

“He’s supposed to be some homicide expert,” Doyle said.

The word “homicide” set off alarm bells in Ronnie’s mind. If his mother became just another case under investigation, he would never forgive himself. He was sure that if he had resisted temptation and never thrown that gravel at Trena’s window, none of this would be happening.

Two men wearing S.W.A.T. gear and gas masks emerged onto the balcony. A woman in a gas mask but without weapons or a helmet followed after them and leaned over Susan and the U.S. Marshall. She froze as she placed fingers from each hand on the victims’ necks.

Come on, Mom, be okay, be okay.

The woman looked down at Davies and gave two thumbs up. “We have a pulse on both,” she said. “His is weak, but hers is racing.”

Susan lifted her head slowly.

“Mom!” Ronnie shrieked.

The S.W.A.T. officers stepped back inside to be replaced by paramedics, who immediately ripped off their own gas masks to attend to their patients. With little room to work, one by one they put oxygen masks on Susan and the Marshall, loaded them onto stretchers, then again donned their own masks.

Trena grabbed Ronnie’s hand. “It looks like she’s going to be okay,” she said.

“I can’t believe this happened. I shouldn’t have turned around and left when I saw that car.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have stopped this,” Trena said.

Ronnie, barely listening to Trena, grabbed Doyle’s arm. “I’m going to the ambulance. Don’t try to stop me.” He would be beaten down to the ground before he’d stop trying to get to her.

If I just hadn’t turned around. Dammit. Why did I leave her? She never would have left me.

Doyle lowered his arm and pointed Ronnie to the ambulance. As he made his way past Detective Davies, he heard him grumble, “‘Sure,’ I told her, ‘I won’t be as busy there. Not as much killing there.’ Here we go again.”

——-

Fearing she would say the wrong thing, Trena was content to hold Ronnie’s hand as they ran to the ambulance. She felt ashamed for letting herself think Maybe he likes me when he didn’t push her hand away. The events of the day had grown much bigger than her crush on an older boy. She knew it was silly, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t keep romantic thoughts from popping into her head. I’m 13 now and he’s only 16. That’s not impossible to imagine.

Everything she had gone through — making a plan and putting her body through its most strenuous and excruciating test since her accident, had been brushed aside like spilled salt. She accepted that Ronnie’s attention was not on her now, but it still hurt. He and his mom needed each other, and Trena resolved to keep her mouth shut about anything else to avoid seeming selfish.

Still, she wanted to know how her mom found out where she had gone. Trena had known Kerri for a year and didn’t think she would rat her out like that. Had something bad happened that made Kerri tell somebody? Did the guy who was following me do something to Mom? Now she was worried about two mothers.

They reached the ambulance just as the paramedics lifted Ronnie’s mom into the back. It was the same pair who had transported Trena after her fall, a very young blond woman and a tall, hulking man in his 30’s.

They saved my life, and then I never saw them again.

“Mom, are you okay?” Ronnie yelled after her.

“We’re giving her oxygen right now, so she can’t talk,” the young woman said.

“Did she say anything?” Ronnie asked.

Detective Davies walked up beside Ronnie.

“She said, ‘It was Larry,’” said the large paramedic. “We really can’t talk right now, either, kid.”

Trena’s head started spinning with images of Larry’s friends talking about her like a piece of meat, and of Larry’s secret phone calls. The relocation, and then the next, after they thought he was out of their lives forever. She squeezed Ronnie’s hand to hold herself up.

“Ouch,” he said.

“Sorry, I–” she began. Pushing down her rage and somehow stopping the tears from spilling onto her cheeks, she said, “I thought he was dead.”

Ronnie’s mom pulled away her oxygen mask and croaked, “He is now.”

“Look, we need to get her to the hospital so they can check her for internal injuries,” the young woman said. She reached out and pulled back doors until they clicked shut.

Trena looked at Davies. “I want to see Larry,” she said.

“I’m afraid we can’t allow any civilians in there right now,” Davies said. “It’s still dangerous. If he is dead, then your mother will get a look, considering that she was still married to him.”

“But she won’t be here right away. I don’t want to wait,” Trena said. Her voice was steady, more determined than querulous.

“I know you’re upset, Trena. We just can’t let you go in there,” Davies said.

“Upset? I want to make sure the asshole’s dead.”

Davies raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, he only ever made trouble for me, and then my mom, too,” Trena said.

“I can tell you have a big beef with this guy, but we just can’t let you in there.”

“I need to follow them to the hospital, but I don’t have a car.” Ronnie said.

Davies said, “Officers Phong and Doyle can take you there.”

Ronnie wrapped a hand around his forehead and rubbed his temples. “Yeah, maybe that would be okay.”

Ronnie didn’t talk to Trena in the backseat. He didn’t ask how she had been doing nor tell her what he was thinking. Nobody made smalltalk, and even Ronnie’s grandpa remained speechless. The town she barely knew blurred past as she heaped silent curses upon Larry’s head.

——-

Susan woke to bright lights and an electronic pinging sound. She scanned the room slowly and figured out within a few seconds that she was in a hospital room. A hacking cough came from her right. She turned her head slowly. A man she put in his eighties apparently was trying to swallow back down a small piece of lung. She closed her eyes and thanked whoever might be listening that she might one day get to be that old. Whatever she’d been through, she wasn’t finished yet.

Now, about that private room I’m pretty sure my insurance pays for. No, she didn’t want to seem like an ingrate when she felt fortunate just to be alive.

Where’s Ronnie?

She glanced down at either side of her bed. An IV ran into her arm, a pulse-ox sensor covered one fingertip. Where is it?

There, near her left shoulder, was the nurse call button. She pushed it.

A tinny voice came from the speaker. “May I help you?”

“I want to see my son.”

“Well, ma’am, you’re in luck, because he’s been asking for you. We were letting you rest.”

Thank God he’s okay. My baby’s okay. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

“I’m rested already. Just send him in, please.”

“Okay. Is that all you need?”

“Yes. Well, unless you have a good single-malt Scotch.”

A monotone voice answered, “We’ll send your son right down.”

Some people can’t take a joke.

The man to her right erupted into another round of wet coughs.

Susan lay there, staring at the ceiling, for the second time glad that Larry was dead. She wasn’t sure it was wrong to revel in another’s demise once, but twice might be pushing it. Whatever the case, she wasn’t going to go shouting it off the hospital rooftop.

What about Puligi?. The U.S. Marshall had risked his life for her family again.

“Mom!” came Ronnie’s voice from the doorway.

She turned slowly to her left. There, fully intact and unharmed, was her younger son — her baby. Susan knew that although she might talk a tough game, she always would think of him as her little boy.

Next to him stood Trena. They walked over to her bed, where Ronnie leaned down and hugged her. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweet boy.”

She wanted to ask how Trena got there, but figured that could come later. Obviously her face relayed her confusion. “Oh, she took a bus to get here this morning,” Ronnie said.

“Hi, Mrs. Batson,” Trena said.

However unwittingly, the girl standing there next to Susan’s baby boy had become quite the harbinger of doom.

“Did Larry come back with her?” Susan asked.

“No, that’s not how it was at all. She snuck out of her mom’s place to catch a bus to see me. She thought Larry was dead, too.”

“I hope you feel better soon, Mrs. Batson.”

Susan put her hand on Trena’s arm. “Thanks, sweetie.” Then, to Ronnie, “Do you know how Puligi’s doing?”

“Puligi?” Ronnie asked.

Trena spoke up. “The guy who saved you in the hospital bathroom, and today ended up on your balcony. He’s the U.S. Marshall assigned to our case.”

Ronnie gave Trena a severe look.

“You never told her? Don’t worry, I think we can trust your mom. We were in the Witness Protection Program, and Puligi was checking in on us, just like when we lived here.”

That answers a lot of questions. “But how is he doing?” Susan asked.

“He’s in surgery,” Ronnie said. “He got shot a few times and lost a lot of blood. That’s all we’ve heard so far. What happened in there, Mom?”

Susan took a deep breath. She didn’t know where to start, and didn’t feel up to the color commentary version. “Puligi came over to check on us at about the same time Larry came back to kill you. Good timing for me, bad timing for both of them. I hope he’s going to be okay.”

They all let that one hang there.

Susan spoke up again, this time to Ronnie. “So, do I have you to thank for getting all those police over there?”

“Remember that guy I told you warned me not to talk to Trena? He went to his local cops, and they found out Puligi’s boss was working with Larry. Larry was paying him off, and told him if he stopped helping him he would have his family killed.”

“My God. And here I thought Larry was just some sleazeball mob wannabe,” Susan said.

“So, Mrs. Batson, did you really kill Larry?”

“Well, I shot him, but that didn’t kill him.”

“What did?” Trena asked.

Susan grinned. “A nasty fall down the stairs.”

The End

This entry was posted on Monday, February 19th, 2007 at 10:56 pm and is filed under Drama. You may follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed, and/or leave a comment below.