When she first started, she only wanted women to get really sick. But when Carrie died, Thelma knew she had become the hand of God – through Him she had dished out the ultimate punishment ‒ death.
She was still conflicted about the nurses and doctors? Weren’t they accomplices to the women seeking abortion? Weren’t they murderers, too?
The new nurse Gina Mazzio popped into her head. Thelma didn’t like her – she seemed able to take in everything at once.
Why was she listening to me outside of the patient room today? Is she watching me?
She went back out into the living room and plopped down into their tattered La-Z-Boy just as Marvin came through the door.
Looking at him, her enthusiasm cooled. His coveralls, gimme hat, and face were streaked with grease, and his skinny body sagged with exhaustion. She used to think he was handsome, but now he’d lost most of his hair and he walked with a stoop. He looked much older than fifty-five.
He stared back at her with flat, wary eyes, but she knew when she told him what she’d done, all of that would change.
The words spilled from her lips. “I did it!”
Why doesn’t he say something?
“I made it happen! Do you understand that?”
She stood and paced around him in tight circles. Before she could speak again, an arm came up and swatted her face.
“Stop doin’ that, for Christ’s sake,” he snapped. “You know it makes me nuts.”
Her hand flew to her mouth; it was already swelling and she could feel that her lip was split open. She swallowed hard and held back the tears that threatened to defeat her.
When she swiped at the pain, a smear of blood stained her hand. Rage blinded her and with all her might she pounded his chest. He grabbed one arm, twisted it behind her.
“Ha!” he said, squeezing harder. “You never learn, do you, you bitch!” She was down on her knees now, trying to move, trying to ease the pain. Then she went limp and surrendered. That was the way he liked it.
Far away, up above her, she heard, “Now get up and fix me dinner, ya hear? I’ve been working on two-twenty-three’s broken sink all day.”
* * *
Thelma moved very slowly, holding an ice pack to her mouth while she dished steak and potatoes onto Marvin’s plate. He was an avid beef eater so she mostly served huge slabs of beef and didn’t have to prepare much of anything else. He was a different person when he was eating meat, with a mug of beer nearby.
After a few bites, a rare look of contentment crossed his face.
“Remember that Carrie nurse I told you about?” she ventured.
“Yeah, the one you don’t much like.”
“That’s the one.”
Marvin shoveled another chunk of meat into his mouth, followed it with a scoop of creamed potatoes. He could barely get the words out. “What about her?”
Thelma broke out into a smile even though it made her wince with pain. “She’s dead.”
“Yeah, so what?”
“She had an abortion at our clinic yesterday and died from it.” Thelma pressed the ice against her lip harder, hoping to numb it. “And I did it. I made her die... and I set up another one today.”
A forkful of food stopped midair as he absorbed the information. Then it fell with a clatter onto his plate. He reached out for her.
“Well, it’s about goddam time!” His lips roughly brushed her forehead.
* * *
Marvin stepped out of the shower, grabbed his towel and noticed there was still some grease under his fingernails. He’d stopped trying to scrub it all away; he knew it was never going anywhere.
He stood in front of the wall mirror over the sink and stared at his body ‒ the hair on his chest was mostly gray, matching the stubble on his face. Even though he was lean, the skin under his arms and across his body sagged. He hadn’t worked out for years. He could sure as hell see the sad results.
When he finished drying, he dropped the towel and left it on the bathroom floor.
Let her get it.
His mother used to scream at him and slap his face when he did that as a little boy, so every time he left something for Thelma to pick up, it gave him a jolt of pleasure. She was a lot like his dead mother. Didn’t like to be pushed around, but a little bit of muscle made her tow the line. Dad taught him that; taught him everything he knew about women ... and Dad had been right ... mostly.
When Marvin got into bed, he saw that Thelma was naked under the covers – that could only mean one thing. He tried to remember how she used to look years ago: soft curves, long black hair around her deep brown eyes, nice breasts. Now, her breasts fell like huge blobs of dough when he touched her.
He thought about Kelly in apartment 223. Today, she’d walked around in a slip the whole time he was lying under her plugged-up kitchen sink. From that angle he could see most everything, including her baby-bump. He remembered how he’d ripped off the silky slip she was wearing. It proved just the right image to get him aroused.
Marvin wrapped his fingers around his cock and turned to his wife. He knew exactly what she wanted ... and he was ready.
Chapter 19
After Thelma fell asleep, Marvin slipped out of bed, got dressed, and left the house. He had to tell Amory Mason what Thelma had done. No phone call. He wanted to see the man’s face when he told him the news.
* * *
Amory Mason hoisted himself up the stairs, using the banister to pull his body upward step by step. Every day it seemed harder to climb out of the basement, and now, some nitwit was at the front door practically sitting on the doorbell. He couldn’t imagine who would be out at this hour of the night, ringing doorbells.
Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!
It really ticked him off. His office was the farthest point from the front door – farthest from anywhere else in the house. But would his wife answer it?
No! Not even if she was home.
And for God’s sake it was after midnight. Instead of being home where she belonged, she was still out with her friends, having a good time spending his money.
The ringing bell kept on without interruption as he tried to spur himself up the staircase.
People just don’t practice common courtesy anymore. Ring the bell once and wait, for Christ’s sake.
If it hadn’t been so late, he would have figured it was one of the local snot-nose kids, mouthing into a Smartphone while trying to talk Amory into subscribing to the local newspaper, or some such rot.
As if anyone bought those liberal rags anymore.
He flung open the front door, ready to give whoever it was a good piece of his mind.
Marvin Karsh was standing there, almost peeing in his pants with excitement.
“Amory, she did it!” Marvin was laughing like some kind of crazy fool.
“Did it? Did what?”
“My wife is now the instrument of the Lord’s justice. A woman has paid the penalty of death for the sin of abortion. And it’s about to happen to another one.”
The idiot was practically shouting. Amory yanked at Karsh’s sleeve until he’d pulled the man inside the house, then slammed the door shut. “What on earth is the matter with you, standing out there and screaming your fool head off?”
Marvin covered his mouth with both hands. It was like he suddenly woke up and was aware of his surroundings. “I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t wait to tell you… didn’t want to take a chance talking on the telephone.”
“So you come over here and shout it out for the world to hear?” Amory led Marvin into the living room and pointed to a straight-back chair. Marvin sat down, cowed like a dog with its tail between its legs.
“Now what’s all this blathering about your wife?”
Amory looked at the man with disdain. His fingernails were black and dirty and he wore a shirt with half his breakfast, lunch, and dinner spattered across the chest.
This time Marvin made a visible effort to calm himself and speak in a normal voice. �
�My wife, Thelma—”
“—yes, yes, I know who your wife is.”
“She works at Ridgewood Hospital. They do abortions there.”
“Yes, yes! Go on!”
It looked as though the man was suddenly unsure of himself, out of his depth. “Well, she’s been doing some studying on the side.”
“Studying?”
“Yes, sir. At first I thought it was nothing but a lot of foolishness. Paying all that hard-earned money for a bunch of books and instruments, even a heat box of some sort. Then when she started using the bathroom to make up this weird stuff … well, I almost threw her out of the house.”
“How nice of you. Go on.”
Marvin again shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “But she grew some kind of germs on these funny little dishes, and it seems that when the little buggers get inside these women having an abortion.” He gave Amory a big smile. “Well, sir, the women die.”
“They die?”
“Yes sir! Those murdering women die. And they suffer plenty before it happens.”
“Does anybody else know about this, Marvin?”
“No, sir. Just Thelma and me. And now you.”
“And you’re sure a woman died?”
“Yes, sir. She was one of the nurses that worked in the abortion clinic. Got herself pregnant and had an abortion.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“And Thelma did another one earlier today, but we haven’t heard anything about that one yet.”
Amory looked closely at Marvin. “Again, you haven’t said anything about this to anyone, have you?”
“No, no! Of course not! But I call that justice. Serves ‘em right … killing their babies like they do.”
Amory walked over to the kitchen and poured out two generous shots of whiskey. He came back to Marvin and handed off one of the glasses.
“Yes, it is justice, Marvin. You and Thelma are good soldiers.” He held his glass up and clinked it against Marvin’s. “And it certainly does serve them right.”
Chapter 20
Oh, my God, I’m blind!
Fear snaked up her throat, other senses fired warnings.
Someone’s in the room, circling me.
The furtive steps made her heart flutter until it became wings tearing at her chest – she screamed over and over into a mouth gag.
Fast, hard, loud, furious breathing felt like a windstorm around her.
A man’s pacing. Has to be a man. Movements all wrong for a woman. Can smell the sweat ... male, sexual.
Her tongue poked at a wide gash on her inner lip and she remembered. He had punched her over and over until she thought her teeth would crack.
Globs of drool dripped down her chin, she wanted to wipe at it, but her hands were bond behind her with wire that was cutting into her skin.
“Send me to prison, huh” Well, try to get out of this, Ms. Nightingale.”
Dominick!
He’s here. He’s going to kill me.
Kill me!
Gina!
Gina, wake up!
The wire was slicing deeper into her wrists.
Oooh, the pain.
“Leave me alo-o-one!”
“Let me go!”
“Gina! Baby, it’s okay. It’s me, Harry!”
Her eyes snapped open; the street light in the window glowed on Harry’s face.
“Harry!” She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, crushing him to her.
“Baby, it’s just a dream.”
“Dominick!”
“Again?”
“He’d beaten me, tied me up … with wire. He was going to kill me.”
Harry squeezed her tighter, his hands moved up and down, soothing her body. She wanted to crawl into his chest and hide.
“You keep having these nightmares ever since we came back to California. What’s going on, babe?”
“I know it sounds crazy … but I can feel his presence. Today I was helping a patient into a cab and I could swear I felt his eyes on me from somewhere in the street. He was there! I even looked around for him, but there were too many people. It was too crowded.”
“Look at me, Gina.” He held her at arms length. “Dominick is not here. Do you really think he’d break parole, risk going back to jail?”
“Don’t you understand? He’d do anything to get his hands on me.”
* * *
Elyse awoke with a start. A gush of blood running wild from between her legs. When she sat up, the dim light made it look like a huge black stain spreading everywhere.
Oh, my God!
She was afraid to get up, didn’t know what to do.
Elyse reached for her cell phone and pressed the auto dial for Jessie, one of the girls she occasionally studied with.
“Yeah.” The girl who answered was barely awake.
“Jessie, it’s me, Elyse.”
“What do you want, Elyse? It’s fucking six in the morning and I’m still asleep.”
“I need help. Please help me.”
“Help you with what?”
“I’m bleeding …bleeding heavily … please!”
“Well, duh! Shove a tampon up your kazoo and leave me alone. I have a test later this morning.”
“No, no, no. You don’t … Jessie? Jessie?”
The line was dead.
Elyse tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. She fell back onto the bed, grabbed the phone, and dialed 911.
She passed out before anyone answered.
Chapter 21
Soon, none of the neighbors would be talking to Frannie and Ryan Garrity. She was already being snubbed by the people on either side of them, and she couldn’t blame them.
The last couple of nights had been unseasonably warm and they’d had to fling the windows open, even with the rain. Living in a small house in Sausalito, with homes squeezed in all around them, prevented any kind of privacy, especially if you were screaming at each other. They were lucky to have the place. If his uncle hadn’t owned the house with several others that Ryan managed, things would have been a lot worse.
When their ten-year-old twins came pounding down the stairs for breakfast, Frannie was so angry at Ryan, red flames of hatred fired her soul. She and Ryan were face to face and they couldn’t stop screaming. Without thinking, her hand curled around one of her ceramic sculptures. She was going to hit him. That moment the girls ran into the living room, crying for them to stop.
It was only by pure luck that she didn’t hit him, possibly kill him.
“Go upstairs, girls, I’ll make breakfast in a few minutes,” Frannie shouted. She let the piece fall from her hand onto the floor, and then collapsed into the sofa.
Ryan’s face was a ghostly white as he walked their daughters back to their room to tuck them in.
When he came back, he sat down close to his wife; she started sobbing. “Oh, Ryan … I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened … I just…”
“Me, too.” He took her into his arms, pulled her close to him; they squeezed together as though some unknown enemy was trying to yank them apart. “Baby, we’ve got to talk about this … I mean … really talk.”
“I know … I know. But it’s so hard to make any sense out of it. You had the vasectomy; it’s not like we’re irresponsible kids.” She tilted away and looked at him – his handsome face was almost as red as his hair, and his soft green eyes were watery pools of sadness. “We did … you did the right thing.”
He slowly shook his head back and forth – a reaction she'd never seen him do. “But we didn’t wait the six weeks, Frannie. We stopped using protection a week too early.”
“It was only a week…”
“It wasn’t enough time.”
“I could have the baby,” she said, knowing how impossible that was.
“We both knew that having more children was never going to be an option. That’s why I had the surgery in the first place. We simply don’t have the money.”
She knew he wante
d to get up and move around, knew it was hard for him to think while sitting still like this. Even when he composed his music, his legs never stopped moving to the constant rhythmic beat somewhere in his head. But he still sat next to her and held her in his arms, probably afraid that if they separated they would start to fight again.
“Frannie, there’re only so many hours in the day. I can only teach the piano to so many people … that’s if I can get students at all. You’d think wealthy people would want their children to study music. We barely make it here, even living rent free.”
“We could move away, where it’s cheaper to live.”
“And that’s all we would be doing,” he said. “Just living.”
“I know you’re right.” She shifted around, saying what had to be said, but already knowing his answer. “Maybe I could take on more students.”
“Frannie, you’re lucky to have the three you have. How many times have you told me how interest in clay work has bottomed out?” He barked a laugh. “Too bad we aren’t high tech whizzes. Creative people are just collateral damage now days.”
He picked up the sculpture lying at her feet; the light caught the soft abstract swirls. He set it back on the table.
“I thought this was your favorite piece, the one you loved making the most.” He ran a hand through her long blond hair and tilted her head up. “No more shouting. Time to think, time to talk about what we’re going to do.”
“I don’t know what to think, Ryan. If we can’t come up with a solution on our own, maybe we should find a counselor to talk to.”
“You mean, a marriage counselor?”
Frannie saw surprise and disappointment consume his face. “No, no, Ryan, not that.” She grabbed his arm, ran her fingers along his jaw. “I was thinking about someone like Planned Parenthood. They must see every kind of situation there is when it comes to having a baby ... or not having a baby.”
He pressed her fingers against his face. “That’s one of the reasons I love you so much – you’re a very smart woman. I’ll call right now and set up an appointment ... as soon as possible. Maybe we can even get in today after we take the kids to school.
Bone of Contention: A Medical Thriller With Heart (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 4) Page 8
