FOL Fic
Part 2 ( Conclusion) of Bullet.
"I’ll try,” I whispered, as everything went dark.
If Natalie’s face was the last thing I saw on this earth, that wasn’t so bad. OK, maybe there was one other visage I would have gone for, but you can’t have everything.
So, I’m here to tell you that there were no white lights, no harp music, no dead relatives calling to you, just a blackness that gradually started to lift.
To reveal a large overhead light and two men in surgical masks and scrubs. I took a deep breath in order to speak and instantly regretted it. Shit. My chest felt like it was on fire.
The men turned to me. “She’s coming to,” one said, in a familiar lilting Southwest Asian accent.
“Welcome back, Chief Polniaczek. Just take it easy.”
“Oh. Hi Dr. Kitna. Where am I?”
“Peekskill Community Hospital, where else?"
“Oh. That’s good, I guess.”
“Yes, it is. Very very good. You appear to have survived the surgery with your wits intact so the worst should be over.”
The other man took off his surgical mask. “Hello Jo.”
I looked at him blankly for a moment and then realization dawned. Cliff? Blair’s Cliff? Maybe I hadn’t survived after all. Maybe this was some particularly cruel version of Hell.
“Cliff? How did you get here?”
“The fastest taxi ride in history,” Cliff chuckled.
“You took a cab from Manhattan?” Here I was, fighting for my life after being plugged, and I was pissed off at the extravagance.
“Yes. We were at the restaurant when we got the call from Natalie. Blair ran out onto Madison Avenue and commandeered this yellow cab. The poor driver never knew what hit him. He was Haitian. She was screaming at him in this wild French. I think he thought she was some kind of witch. Anyway, he got us here in record time.”
“So why did you come?” I blurted out.
“Don’t be rude, Chief Polniaczek,” Dr. Kitna interrupted smoothly. “Dr. Winfield is one of the most prominent surgeons in the country. I was honored to work with him.”
"Hey, I’m sure you would have done just fine,” I muttered. We could take care of ourselves in Peekskill. We didn’t need any fancy, big city, ex-husband doctors coming in.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Chief, but his assistance was very valuable.”
“In fact, Dr Kitna has a lot more experience with gunshot wounds than I do,” Cliff opined. “He did great job.”
“Military schools, drunken hunters. We get our share,” Dr. Kitna shrugged. “Now if you will excuse me, I’ll go inform the multitudes in the waiting room that things are looking good. You are a very popular individual, Chief Polniaczek. No visitors for a while, though.” He left the room.
I looked at Blair’s ex. Fit, blond, lantern jawed. I had to admit he had aged well. That pissed me off too. “So really, why are you here?”
“Blair insisted that I scrub in. And you know how it is. If Blair Warner insists, one tends to obey.” He smiled reminiscently.
In fact I did know how it was but I wasn’t going to admit that to Cliff.
“If Blair really wanted her ex-husband to operate on her lesbian lover, she’s either even more of an airbrain than I thought, or she’s trying to get rid of me,” I declared.
Cliff’s smile vanished. “Hey. I took an oath. You were going to get the best I could give. And anyway, I’m not your enemy.”
“No?”
“No. Jo, this really isn’t the best time to discuss this, but suffice to say that, though being married to Blair was like some wonderful fairy tale, I don’t for a minute regret our divorce.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“As I said, it was like a fairy tale. And as amazing as it was for me, I always had the suspicion that deep down it wasn’t real, that she wasn’t truly happy. I also know that, based on the last eight hours-- listening to how she talks about you, seeing her reaction to the news you’d been shot-- what you two have is real and she is truly happy. Assuming you recover, of course, which is why I’ll shut up now.” He started to leave.
“Wait, what did she…?”
“No more talk. Get some rest.“
Damn, just when it was getting interesting.
***********************************
I woke up in a different room. Feeling a lot better, I pressed the call button and Nurse Molly Malone, a brassy woman I had known for years, came in.
“Yo, Chief. Bout time you joined the living. How ya feeling?”
“I’m thirsty. What time is it?”
“Five a.m.”
“What day?” I asked, puzzled.
“Saturday. They brought you in Thursday night and you’ve basically been asleep for 30 hours. Lazy bum.” She brought me a cup of water with a plastic straw. “Small sips,” she instructed.
The water burned a little it went down but still felt great. “Thanks.”
Nurse Malone smiled. “You are very welcome. Boy, am I going to be popular when I tell everyone you’re awake. You had the town worried, Chief.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You did wonders for our blood bank. Donations were up 300%. I’ll tell you, I never saw so many people hanging around. We finally had to kick out your girlfriend a couple of hours ago. She was here all yesterday and into last night.”
“Here? In the room?”
“Yeah. She twisted Dr. Kitna around her little finger and got him to let her stay. She just sat here hour after hour. Watching you. Wouldn’t even read her magazines.”
It was a strange image. Blair normally wasn’t one for sitting quietly. And she could never resist a Vogue.
“And what about her ex?” Nurse Malone continued.
“What about him?”
“Is he a hunk, or what? Man, that is one good looking couple. Could you imagine their children? They would be like Aryan gods. And to think she dumped him for some surly Polack cop. Go figure.”
“Y’know, Molly, your bedside manner could use a little work,” I complained.
She laughed. “Just joshing you, Chief. You don’t need to worry about your luvah,” she said theatrically. “Anyway, I’m under orders to call the Mayor the minute you wake up.”
She went out to the nurse’s station and about fifteen minutes later, a disheveled looking Natalie, accompanied by her trucker husband Snake appeared at my bedside.
“Well, well, well," the Mayor intoned with a grin. “So there you are. How are you feeling?”
“As well as can be expected. And you? Any damage?”
“Other than to my pride, no. Fit as a fiddle.”
“Thanks to you, stud,” Snake said, as he leant down and kissed my forehead.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. So what’s the deal with the shooter? Sergeant Ziaukes didn’t screw it up, did he?”
“No,” Natalie replied. “They got him safely into custody. Except the Feds have taken over.”
“The Feds? Really?”
“Yeah. Apparently any attack on a political figure is a matter for the FBI.”
“That makes sense. So, do they have a motive? I’m guessing some right wing nut case. I mean you’re a woman, pro- environment, gay-friendly, Jewish. A skinhead, right?”
“I should be so lucky,” Nat shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
“That’s where the blow to my pride comes in. It was like a John Hinckley/Jodie Foster thing. He did it to impress a girlfriend. My policies had nothing to do with it.”
“You’re kidding,” I exclaimed. “I mean, c’mon, you’re the mayor of Peekskill. How impressive can that really be?”
“Apparently presidents, governors or senators were too much trouble. And get this; I wasn’t even his first choice. He really wanted to go after the mayor of Schenectady but he was low on gas.”
“The mayor of Schenectady is a corrupt prick. A much better option,” Snake opined.
“Snake, that’s a terrible thing to say,” Natalie objected. “Anyway, there was no great conspiracy, just some pathetic dweeb.”
I shook my head. “Well, that kinda sucks.”
“The bullet was just as real, though,” Natalie noted, squeezing my hand. “You protected me, Jo. Like you always have. I appreciate it. Like I always will.”
As was my incredibly annoying habit, I teared up. “OK, then,” I got out. “So I’m glad it worked out.”
“Well,” Natalie said in a brighter tone. “Let’s call Blair and get her back here.”
Weirdly, I suddenly felt shy about seeing my girlfriend. “Let’s wait. According to Molly, she hasn’t had much sleep. I’ll talk to her later.”
Natalie looked at me oddly. “All right. I have to report to Mrs. Garrett and Tootie, though. They’ve been calling like every five minutes from the road.” Mrs. G had taken Tootie and her six year old daughter Tisha on a summer road trip to the Upper Midwest to see where Mrs. G had grown up.
“You didn’t make them cut their vacation short, did you?" I asked.
“Make them, no. They were on their way back anyway. But let’s just say that the news accelerated things a bit. Snake has alerted his trucker buddies to be on the lookout for a RV moving towards Peekskill at the speed of light.”
“Did they freak?”
“Freak? Hmm. Shall we concede that Mrs. Garrett and Tootie are both, how shall we put it, somewhat emotive? And they learn that their intimate life-long friend had been shot foiling an assassination attempt on their other intimate life-long friend? Oh yeah, they freaked.”
“Oh geez. Maybe I’ll get out of here before it becomes a big deal.”
“Stud, you could have….” Snake trailed off. “Well, it is a big deal.”
“Yes, it is,” a voice from the doorway concurred. “But she’ll never admit it. You’re born, you die, you move on. That’s her motto.”
I turned to see Blair, without make-up, unwashed hair pulled back into a pony-tail, pale with bags under her eyes. She was as gorgeous as ever.
“Hey. You look tired” I offered.
“Do I?” She lapsed into silence.
Natalie coughed. “OK hubby, let’s go home.” She put her arm around Blair. “When you’re done here, come by for breakfast. Snake will make blueberry pancakes. The twins would love to see you. Nothing like watching them try to out ninja each other to give you a sense of normalcy. And you can take a nap in our hammock if you want.
Blair smiled. “I’ll do that. Thank you.”
“Great. See ya later Chief,” Nat said. “I’ll come back this afternoon to show you the papers. They misspelled your name, but what else is new.” She grabbed Snake and they left hand in hand.
OK. What to say to her. “Did you feed the cat?” Smooth, Polniaczek, smooth.
She blinked. “Yes, I fed Zelda. She’s fine.”
“Oh good. Thanks.”
“Jo…," she began.
“How was your dinner with Cliff?” I interrupted to forestall her.
She glared at me. “Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play? It had its moments.”
“Why did you bring him here?” I had to ask.
“Because he’s the finest doctor I know.”
“It didn’t occur to you that it might be a little awkward?”
”I couldn’t care less. Jo, you threw yourself on a gunman to save Natalie. I’m not entitled to endure a little awkwardness with my ex-husband to save you?”
She had a point. I sighed. “Blair, I’m sorry you had to deal with this. I’m sorry that I worried you.”
Blair sat down in the bedside chair. “Listen to me. You have always worried me. Worry, irritation, anger, frustration. That comes with the Polniaczek territory.”
“That doesn’t sound so great,” I said ruefully.
“But it also comes with passion, laughter, desire, contentment, joy. Jo, we’re together for the long haul, I hope. We’re going to have some rotten days. Thursday was one of them.”
“I guess.” I smiled. “The long haul? Really?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Like oxen pulling a really, really heavy load. It will take years and years and years.”
“It’s not that heavy,” I objected.
“No, it’s not. Not heavy at all,” she said as she bent down to press her lips to mine.
“My breath’s a little funky” I warned. “I haven’t had a chance to brush my teeth.”
“I don’t care,” she murmured, deepening the kiss.
Oxen? I could go for that
************************
“Aunt Jo, can I see your bullet hole? Daddy says you can stick your finger in it all the way.”
“Sorry, Max,” I informed one of Natalie’s five year old sons. “Your dad was exaggerating. Besides it’s been six weeks and it’s almost healed. There’s hardly a scar.”
“Oh.” Max looked disappointed. He brightened. “Can I see the bullet?”
“Go away, you gruesome child,” Natalie ordered. “Go and join your equally gruesome sire at the pony ride.”
“Okay.” We watched as he skipped away across the spacious lawn of Windermere Farm, where Blair was hosting what she termed a Harvest Sheaves Village Fete. I swear she gets her idea of small town life from the Canterbury Tales. It was a good party, though. Practically all of Peekskill was in attendance. There was food, drink, music, kids’ rides, and with an irony that seemed to be lost on the revelers, an arcade filled with shooting games. Oh well. It’s America. We love our guns.
I turned to Nat. “So, do you want to hit the beer tent for a cold one?”
“No thanks. I’m sticking to water.”
I looked at her suspiciously. “Natalie...?”
She grinned. “Oh all right. Nothing like a little brush with mortality to get the juices flowing in the bedroom. It’s early yet, but it looks like I’m pregnant.”
“That’s great! Just great!”
“Yeah, Snake’s pretty psyched. And I think the town will deal with it.”
“Are you kidding? The voters will love it.”
“Love what?” Blair, who had just walked up, asked.
I looked at Nat inquiringly. “Go ahead and tell her,” she replied. “One Musketeer knows, they all know.”
“Natalie’s pregnant.”
“How wonderful!” Blair declared, giving Nat a hug. “I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Thank you. Well, I’d better track down Tootie and Mrs. Garrett to give them the news. Tootie has probably already sensed some sub-molecular disturbance that indicates the presence of gossip.”
“They’re by the Maypole,” Blair informed her.
“Aren’t Maypoles for May, not October? I asked. “And where did you even find one in Peekskill, anyway?”
“Traditionally, the maidens of the village would perform the Maypole Dance for important community occasions,” Blair pronounced. “It wasn’t limited to spring.”
“The maidens of the village? Thank you, Lady Guinevere,” I snorted.
“Although I’m not exactly a maiden, I might take a turn,” Natalie laughed. “See you girls later. Be sure to check on the prisoners in the stocks tonight, Chief.”
Blair plopped down in the chair Natalie had vacated. “Are you having fun?”
“Yes, Your Grace, I am.” I noticed a little shadow in her expression. “Hey, I’m kidding. It’s a great party and it was really nice of you to arrange it.”
“I know I can be a little over-the-top, sometimes,” Blair admitted. “But I’m just trying to fit in with the town, after being away so long.”
“Blair, you’re never going to just fit in. From your Harvest Queen days on, you were born to rule. But that’s OK. Your subjects are lucky to have you.” I took her hand and brought it to my lips.
Blair looked out at the festivities. “I do love it here.”
“Good.”
“So, we got a postcard from Cliff and Lucia today,” Blair said, pulling an object from her coat pocket.
“Really? How did the honeymoon go?”
“I’ll read it.”
Dear Blair and Jo:
We are back. It rained. Lucia got sick. They lost the luggage. All in all, it was the best honeymoon I could imagine. No fairy tale. Jo will know what I mean.
Love,
Cliff
I laughed. Y’know, for a way- too -handsome ex- husband, Cliff wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
The End