Magical Legacy

by Pamela M. Richter

  They sat on the floor wearily, breathing heavily. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes that they’d been fighting, but it felt like they’d run a marathon.

  Mike leaned against the wall, exhausted, and said, “Rod, you’re bleeding bad! You have to put something on your chest and shoulder. Staunch the flow.”

  “You’re bleeding, too,” Rod said. He painfully removed his jacket, which made the flow even more copious. Blood covered his shirt down to his waist. He could feel the stickiness sliding down inside his pants. He managed to push his coat against the wound. It hurt like hell with the added pressure. He almost passed out, but he kept pressing the knife wound and the blood seemed to stop flowing so swiftly. Or maybe the coat was just sopping up all the blood, he thought.

  “I hope someone called the cops,” Mike said. “Maybe they’ll catch the bastard.”

  “He’s so big, if he’s still around they’ll get him.”

  “Good thing I cut my right hand,” Mike said, inspecting his bloody hand. I’ll be able to wear a wedding ring.”

  Rod nodded. He was in too much discomfort to reply or even smile at Mike’s remark.

  Mike painfully, left handed, took his phone out of his back pocket and punched 911.

  Many people from the restraint now gathered at the entrance to the blood spattered hallway. The restaurant manager kept the spectators from going inside the corridor where Rod and Mike sat bleeding on the floor.

  They could hear the manager saying, “Everyone stay back.” Then he went over to Rod and Mike and hunched down so he could talk to them.

  “I’m Dave, the manager. An ambulance is on the way.”

  “Did anyone stop the big blond guy who attacked us?” Rod asked.

  Dave shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s been in here a couple of times. I know the guy you mean. He sauntered out of the restaurant like he had all the time in the world. The main night bartender can probably identify him, too.”

  Rod was woozy with pain, but it was suddenly, utterly clear to him who the attacker was. He’d changed his hair color and lost a lot of weight. Plastic surgery had changed his face.

  It was the man Rod had pushed off a cliff in Kauai. The man who had raped Michelle so brutally she was in the hospital for weeks, and then was so scared of men for years that she couldn’t let a man touch her.

  It was Samson, Omar’s right hand guy.

  Which meant Omar was probably behind the attack.

  That was very bad news. Rod knew if he was eliminated, Omar would try to get at Michelle again. And the cute little girls, Omar’s daughters, were in imminent danger as well with Samson in Hawaii.

  The kid living next to Leilanie said the man who tried to break into Leilanie’s house was a giant with blond hair. That description fit the man who had attacked Rod and Mike just a few minutes ago.

  The bartender ran down the corridor toward them with bar towels. “These are sterile,” he said. He and the manager, Dave, started wrapping up Mike’s hand. Then they moved to his upper arm, which was deeply slashed. They wrapped the towels around it too.

  They couldn’t do anything for Rod, afraid if the coat was removed he would bleed out.

  Paramedics arrived about five minutes later. They were efficient, moving both men to stretchers on legs. They wheeled Rod and Mike out into the parking area, where two ambulances and a police car were parked. As they were being moved, the paramedics took their vital signs and checked them out physically.

  “Where are you taking us?” Mike asked the guy taking his blood pressure.

  “Honolulu General.”

  “See you there,” Mike said to Rod, as he was trundled into one ambulance.

  Rod had lost consciousness and didn’t reply.

  “There’s my little baby,” Michelle said aloud, smiling. She was standing nude in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom.

  She had been slow to show, and a little worried, wondering if she really had a baby in there, but now she saw a definite bump. She rubbed it and said, “Love you, love you, love you.”

  Her cell phone rang and she turned to pick it up on the bedside table. She expected to see Rod’s picture, but the caller was unknown. Michelle almost deleted it, but something inside said to answer, although it was very late.

  She didn’t know if it was precognition or not, but she suddenly had an awful feeling zip through her. Abruptly dizzy, she sat on the bed and clicked ‘answer.’

  “Police Officer Baker here. Is this Michelle Montgomery?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m with the Honolulu Police Department. A victim of an attack wanted me to contact you. Rod Nakamura is at Honolulu General, in surgery. He said for you to call a woman named Heather. Mike Kapahu is also injured. I tried to contact Heather, but there was no answer.”

  Michelle could feel herself start shaking, tears in her eyes. “Are they okay? Was it a car accident?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

  “Okay. I’m on my way. Thanks for calling.”

  The officer hung up. The line was dead.

  Michelle’s hands were trembling so much she missed the button for her best friend’s number. She got her shaking fingers to click again.

  She and Heather had spent most of the night together earlier, watching movies on Netflix and eating popcorn. They had joked about either Rob or Mike running off after the event with one of the strippers. Now something really horrible had happened

  “Michelle, why are you calling so late?” Heather complained, sounding half asleep.

  “Rob and Mike are in the hospital. A police officer called me.”

  There was a pause, then, “Are you sure? Maybe it’s one of the party people. Some kind of horrible practical joke?”

  Michelle shook her head. “No. Get dressed and meet me in the hallway. You can drive.”

  She hung up. Heather was a fast driver, and Michelle didn’t feel she could drive safely. She was shaking so much she had trouble putting on her clothes.

  Michelle, finally dressed, went into the hallway. Heather was already at the elevators, holding the door open. Michelle ran down the hall and jumped into the elevator.

  “That policeman said they were both hurt?” Heather asked on the way down.

  “Yeah. Rod’s in surgery. He said Mike was injured, but that’s all I know.”

  Heather was like a maniac race car driver, skidding through turns and completely ignoring the red lights, honking cars, and drivers giving her the finger.

  Traffic wasn’t much of a problem, though, this late at night. It only took about twenty minutes to get to the hospital.

  Chapter 19

  They were shuttled off in different directions at the reception booth in the hospital’s main lobby. Heather was directed to Emergency, where Mike was being treated.

  Michelle was sent to the surgical unit on the 14th floor. It was creepy because she knew it was really the 13th floor where Rod being treated. Most buildings skipped the ominous 13th, ignoring the number like it didn’t exist in buildings, and especially in hospitals.

  “I’m being paranoid and stupidly superstitious,” Michelle thought on the way up in the elevator.

  The receptionist at the surgical desk told her she’d have to wait until a nurse could come to tell her what was going on with her friend, Rod. Michelle was directed to the waiting room, which was comfortable, with plush seating and old magazines on a big table in the middle of the room. She looked around. A few other people were sitting there as well. They all appeared upset and anxious.

  She waited eons, she was sure, when a nurse finally came into the room and said, “Rod Nakamura?”

  Michelle jumped out of the chair and hurried to her.

  “How is he?” Michelle asked.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood with all the knife wounds,” the nurse said.

  Michelle’s eyes widened. Knife wounds?

  “And,” the nurse continued, “Some of the muscles in his chest and shoul
der are being sewn up right now. Several blood vessels had to be reattached as well. He’s been given blood transfusions, too.”

  “Will he be all right?” Michelle asked.

  The nurse shook her head. “We’ll have to wait and see. As I said, he lost a lot of blood. He was unconscious when he got here. He woke up briefly before surgery and told a policeman to call you.”

  When the nurse left, Michelle sat down again to wait. She picked up a People’s Magazine, flipping pages she didn’t see. The articles made no sense to her. Concentrating was impossible when the father of her child, the love if her life, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her days with was in danger. She couldn’t imagine a life without Rod.

  Michelle got up and went to a vending machine. She got tea because of her pregnancy, which just made her antsier.

  Even stoked up on a small amount of caffeine, she closed her eyes for a minute and was immediately asleep. Pregnancy—growing a whole new person inside—took up a lot of energy. When she woke and glanced at her cell, she noted she’d been asleep for an hour.

  Now that the waiting room was empty, she got up and paced. She wanted to be in that surgical suite where Rod was being treated.

  Michelle was absolutely sure of one thing: she could heal hurt animals and people. Years ago, when Rod was in agony from a broken ankle on the island of Kauai, she had taken away the pain. Later, a doctor couldn’t believe how fast Rod healed and was up and walking around again.

  Michelle was relieved when Heather and Mike appeared at the entrance to the waiting room. Heather ran over and hugged Michelle. Mike walked to her and patted Michelle on the shoulder, winking at her. “See, I’m okay. Rod will be too.”

  Heather turned around and said, “Sit down, Mike. He’s in a lot of pain, mostly in his hand. Mike didn’t even know how many knife cuts he had, he was so hung over. Good thing too. When they took off his clothes he had a lot of slash wounds.”

  Mike nodded as he eased painfully down onto a couch. “Yeah. I didn’t even feel most of them. Except for my hand and arm.”

  “What happened?” Michelle asked impatiently. She went over to Mike, sat beside him and picked up his injured, wrapped hand, holding it in both of hers.

  “Some huge guy attacked us with a big serrated stiletto knife as we were leaving the room where the bachelor party was held. We were the last ones to go, and he was evidently hiding in the men’s room in the hallway. He was definitely after Rod. Stuck him in the shoulder and chest area.”

  He paused, frowning, looking down at the hand she held. “What are you doing, Michelle?”

  “Making it better,” she answered.

  “Well, don’t stop. My hand was throbbing like a bitch. Now I hardly feel anything. You numbed it?”

  Michelle nodded.

  Mike smiled. “I’ll take your magic over pain pills any day.”

  “Did you hear anything about Rod’s condition?” Heather asked as she sat down beside them.

  “A nurse said he was in surgery being sewed up. When I asked about his condition she just said he’d lost a lot of blood and they gave him transfusions.” She looked at her cell phone, blinking rapidly to get rid of her tears. “It’s been over an hour since then.”

  Michelle was relieved that Heather and Mike were with her. They were the kind of friends who would wait with her, all night if necessary.

  After another agonizing half hour, a doctor came into the room. There were blood stains on his white jacket, which partially covered more blood on his blue scrubs. “Is Michelle here?”

  The three jumped up and went over to the doctor.

  “I’m Michelle.”

  The doctor shook her hand. “I’m Dr. Bendall. I just finished surgery on Mr. Nakamura. He’s in recovery and will be transferred to the intensive care unit after he wakes up.”

  “Will he be okay? Can I see him?”

  “He’s doing as well as expected. And yes you can, but he’s still asleep. It was touch-and-go for a while there because he’d lost so much blood, but you can go and sit by him. Only one person bedside, though. I’ll send a nurse to take you to him, Michelle.”

  She shook Dr. Bendall’s hand a second time. “Thank you so much for treating Rod. I was so worried.”

  He smiled at Michelle and said before leaving, “We’ll all hope for a good recovery. His arm must remain immobilized. Don’t forget that.”

  Michelle turned to Heather when the doctor left and said, “Why don’t you and Mike go home. I’ll text you when I see Rod and give updates through the night. Mike needs to rest, and it’s very late.”

  They hugged her and left.

  A nurse led Michelle down sterile corridors with that distinct hospital pine cleaner odor. There were four beds in the recovery room but it was so late now that only Rod was there.

  The nurse pulled up a chair for Michelle and closed the curtains surrounding the bed. Yes! Michelle thought. She’d have some privacy to work on Rod’s injuries.

  “You use this button if you need anything, or if he wakes up,” The nurse said as she left, pointing at a red knob on the arm of the bed.

  Michelle bent down and kissed his brow and lips gently. She studied Rod’s face. His skin was so white. There were big dark circles under his eyes, like he had suffered terribly. She pulled down the blanket and could see where he’d been operated on. There was a big pad covering his shoulder and part of his chest, on the left side. She could see other knife wounds as well, but they weren’t as bad. Some were stitched and others had butterfly bandages holding the knife slashes closed.

  Michelle sat down, keeping the injured area uncovered, and placed her hand carefully over the bandages. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, sending him love and healing.

  After a while his breathing, which had been rapid, slowed down. She could feel his breaths under her hand. Then, after about a half hour, his eyes twitched. He muttered under his breath, ‘Time to hit the mattresses.’

  “What did you say?” Michelle whispered, leaning down over him.

  He tried to move the injured left arm and she soothed him saying, “You’re safe. Don’t move.”

  He seemed to go to sleep again, and then his blue eyes opened wide and he repeated. “Time to hit the mattresses.”

  The only time she’d heard those words was in The Godfather movie, when two opposing Mafia drug gangs were preparing to fight each other.

  Did this mean he expected more attacks like the one he and Mike experienced? It seemed unlikely. Rod didn’t have any enemies.

  But she did. Could Omar be behind this?

  Michelle kept her hand on the injured area until she heard a nurse moving into the room with her squeaky rubber-soled shoes. She quickly covered Rod again with the thin blanket, and sat there quietly.

  The nurse flung back the curtain noisily on its metal frame and asked her, “Did he wake up at all?”

  Michelle shook her head. “He mumbled something I didn’t get, and then went back to sleep.”

  “He’s had a bad injury, but he’ll probably wake up soon. Call me when he does.”

  The nurse checked Rod’s vital signs and seemed surprised. “He’s doing exceptionally well. You can talk to him; aid him in waking. He’ll feel relieved that someone he knows is with him, because he will be in some discomfort.”

  They always used the word ‘discomfort’ when they meant horrible pain, Michelle thought. Just like they always said, ‘you’ll just feel a little pinch,’ before they stabbed a needle into you. But Michelle wasn’t going to say that to the nurse.

  When she left, Michelle whispered endearments and healing messages, again uncovering the wounded area and covering it with her hands. She’d talk ‘till the end of time if it would help Rod.

  She didn’t know if all witches felt a certain deep satisfaction while using their powers. But she felt it now, knowing that she had a special gift that was unusual and hers alone. It was like a clear, distinct humming feeling throbbing deep inside. She could feel her o
wn energy being used, flowing through her, leaving her fingers, her hands tingling with power.

  She wondered why, if she was giving healing energy, she didn’t feel depleted herself. It just seemed to pour into her and then transfer to Rod from some unknown energy field she had tapped into. Maybe from the air itself.

  Rod came to consciousness slowly, his eyelids twitching first. Then he was blinking and said, “Michelle?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Good.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired.” Then Rod tried to move, but his arm was secured to his side.

  “Don’t move. Your left arm is taped to your side. To keep it still where you were hurt. You said something when you woke up before. Time to go to the mattresses?”

  Rod was galvanized by her words, his eyes opening wide. “Oh, my God. Yes. We have to get the little girls hidden. Right now!”

  “My daughters? Why?”

  “The man who attacked me and Mike was Samson! Wait! Is Mike okay?”

  “Mike’s fine. He was treated and went home with Heather.” She paused, thinking, “You mean Omar’s Samson? The big, ugly, beast-like Samson?”

  Rod nodded vigorously. Now he was fully awake. “Take my credit card. Get Leilanie and the girls a hotel room, preferably one near where we live. Maybe in Waikiki. One of the big hotels. Call Leilanie right away.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  “He’s changed his looks; Samson. He had plastic surgery, lost a lot of weight, and bleached his hair. I almost didn’t recognize him.”

  “He might have been the guy trying to break into Leilanie’s house,” Michelle exclaimed.

  “Yeah, fits the description.”

  They both went silent when they heard the nurse come into the room. She pulled the privacy curtains from around the bed.

  “How are we doing?”

  Chapter 20

  Leilanie was in a frenzy of packing. It was the middle of the night. She’d just received a call from Michelle, telling her to take the girls to the Outrigger Hotel in Waikiki…right now! Michelle would meet her there.