An Indian Affair

by Doreen Owens Malek

  Cindy listened, too appalled to comment.

  “He chopped you on the back of the neck first,” the doctor continued equably, as if reading the weather report, “to get you out of the way, and then went after Mr. Fox with a knife, slicing his arm. Mr. Fox knocked him out and then brought you here in his car, violating every posted speed limit in the process. He picked up a police escort of two squad cars and they all roared into emergency at the same time. And I understand that the admitting nurse was your roommate, and she put on quite a scene. It was all very colorful, I assure you.”

  “Paula,” Cindy murmured. Oh, no.

  “And,” the doctor said, warming to his tale, “Mr. Fox punched out an orderly he thought wasn’t tending to you fast enough. I must say he was more concerned about your welfare than the pint of blood he had lost along the way.”

  “You were there?” Cindy asked, glad that she had slept through it.

  “Only for the last part. The punching out, I mean. I missed your dramatic arrival by a few minutes but I heard all about it.”

  I’m sure you did, Cindy thought gloomily. “Is Paula still here?”

  “The nurse? Oh, no, we sent her home with a prescription for tranquilizers. I’m sure she’ll be in to visit tomorrow.”

  “What’s wrong with me? You said it was a concussion?”

  “In simple terms, yes. You sustained a blow that might have caused damage to the spine or the head. We’ll be doing some tests for intracranial pressure and a few other things tomorrow. I’m Doctor Markel, by the way, and I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”

  “I want to see Drew. Can I see him?”

  Dr. Markel shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. You need your rest and so does he.”

  “What about tomorrow? Can I see him tomorrow?”

  “We’ll talk about it then. Now settle down and the ward nurse will be in shortly to take your vital signs.”

  Whatever they are, Cindy thought. She watched as Dr. Markel bustled out the door, closing it behind him, eliminating her view of the hall.

  She lay back and stared at the ceiling.

  There didn’t seem to be anything else to do.

  * * * *

  In the morning Cindy was shuffled around for various tests,which ranged from the uncomfortable to the ridiculous. Apparently she passed them all because around noon they began making noises about discharging her.

  She asked about Fox five times and was put off with a range of excuses. She was told that he was doing well, but that she still could not see him.

  Paula arrived after lunch, carrying a plant bigger than she was. She took one look at Cindy and burst into tears.

  “Stop crying, Paula, I’m all right. What is that, a baby tree?”

  Paula put the bush down and pulled a wad of tissues from her pocket. “I couldn’t believe it when they brought you in,” she began. “You were out cold, white as a sheet, and Fox was covered with blood, yelling for us to take care of you. He looked like something out of a horror movie, even his hair was matted with gore. I thought that you were dead and he was dying.”

  “It’s over, Paula. We’re both all right.”

  “No thanks to him!” Paula said fiercely. “I knew he would be trouble. Didn’t I tell you he would be trouble? He’s dangerous, those people he chases are dangerous. That guy who attacked you really meant business, you know. When they brought him back to jail he said he didn’t want to hire someone to go after Fox, he wanted the pleasure of taking care of him personally. ‘Taking care of him.’ His exact words.” She shuddered.

  “Calm down, Paula. You’re getting hysterical.”

  “When I think,” Paula barrelled on, ignoring her, “of all the time I spent trying to get you out of those libraries and into a social life. And this is how you take my advice? By jumping from the reference stacks into knife brawls with hoods. By running around with Andrew freakin’ Fox, of all people! Even the cops are afraid of him.” She threw up her hands. “It’s like going from singing in a church choir to running guns for the mafia.”

  A nurse came in from the hall, glancing at Paula’s offering. “I see that Birnam Wood has arrived,” she said dryly.

  Paula threw her a dirty look.

  “Time to take your pulse,” she said, picking up Cindy’s wrist.

  “How is Andrew Fox?” Cindy asked her.

  The nurse smiled. “You two should work up a routine. Every time I go in his room he asks about you.”

  “He might well ask,” Paula sniffed. “He’s the reason she’s here in the first place.”

  The nurse glanced curiously at Paula. “Don’t you work down in emergency?” she asked.

  Paula nodded. “I was there when the two of them came in.”

  The nurse grinned. “Some show, huh?”

  Paula turned to Cindy. “Your mother called, and I had to make up a story about your absence. I didn’t dare tell her the truth or she would have been flying down here to see you on the next plane.”

  “Thanks,” Cindy said. “I appreciate it.” By comparison with Cindy’s mother, Paula was a rock, a bastion of stability.

  The nurse left, and Paula stayed until visiting hours were over, settling down enough to discuss her budding romance with the pharmacist and a few other mundane topics. As soon as she left Dr. Markel appeared, with his little light in his hand.

  “Look at the ceiling,” he commanded, and Cindy did. “Look at the floor,” he said, and she complied.

  He stepped back, satisfied.

  “Well, young lady, I think you can go home.”

  A different nurse came in and handed him something to sign.

  “I want to see Andrew Fox,” Cindy said.

  The doctor and the nurse exchanged glances.

  “If you discharge me, I’ll just visit him tonight,” Cindy said reasonably.

  “I don’t think so,” Dr. Markel said. “He doesn’t want to see you. We have direct instructions not to permit you in his room, and we have to follow the wishes of the patient in these cases.” He scribbled his signature and handed the clipboard back to the nurse.

  “He won’t see me,” Cindy whispered, stunned. She couldn’t believe it.

  “I’m sorry,” the doctor said, as the nurse looked on sympathetically. “But that’s what Mr. Fox wants, and we can’t risk upsetting him while he’s still in our care.” He eyed her thoughtfully. “Maybe he’ll change his mind when he’s feeling better.”

  “But why?”

  Dr. Markel shrugged. “I don’t know. He hasn’t said much of anything really, except to ask about you. I must say it seems odd that he is so interested in your condition and yet doesn’t want to see you for himself. But then, he’s an odd fellow.”

  He nodded, dismissing the nurse, and she left the room.

  “May I ask you a question?” the doctor said, startling Cindy out of her reverie.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the story with Mr. Fox? You seem to know him better than most. He’s a good-looking guy. Smart too, from what I can see. Why does he have to make his living getting banged up like a boxer in a two bit smoker?”

  “I think he likes it,” Cindy murmured, more to herself than to him.

  “Beg pardon?” Dr. Markel said.

  “He likes the danger, the excitement. Not knowing what’s going to happen from day to day.”

  The doctor shook his head. “I don’t understand that.”

  “Neither do I. But that’s what makes him different from you and me.”

  “From most people, I would guess,” Dr. Markel said practically. He folded his arms and surveyed her critically. “Now our usual discharge hours are in the morning, but if you’ll sign yourself out, I’ll let you go as soon as you can pack your things. You’ll need a ride home.”

  “I’ll call Paula,” Cindy said, reaching for the bedside phone.

  The doctor headed for the door. On his way out he paused and said, “Miss Warren? Good luck with your adventurous friend.”
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br />   Cindy nodded and picked up the phone.

  * * * *

  Cindy had almost managed to convince herself that there was some mistake, until she called the hospital the following day and was told that Fox still would not see her.

  Paula entered the room as she was replacing the receiver.

  “No change?” Paula asked.

  Cindy shook her head.

  Paula sighed. “Well, I was hoping things would improve, but since they haven’t I might as well give you this now.” She went to the coat closet and returned with a large gift box. “This came for you while you were still in the hospital. It’s from him.”

  Cindy stared at the package. “How do you know?”

  “I saw the receipt when it came. His name was on it, he ordered it by phone.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Paula said, annoyed. “I didn’t open it.”

  Cindy took the box and undid the cord, pushing aside the layers of tissue paper after she removed the lid. It contained a cornflower blue dress, just right color for her dark hair and light eyes, in her exact size. There was a card enclosed. She slit the envelope with her fingernail. Inside, on a plain white background, was the drawing of a tiny fox face.

  She showed it to Paula. “Why would he be sending me a dress?”

  Paula shrugged. “I guess to replace the clothes you were wearing when you were attacked. Fox’s blood got all over them. Didn’t you realize that you were discharged in the things I had brought you?”

  Cindy had been so disturbed by Fox’s refusal to see her that she hadn’t noticed what she was wearing.

  “He must have had the delivery man stop by the hospital so he could insert the card,” Paula mused.

  The more Cindy thought about the gift the angrier she got. “Paula, do you know what this is?” she asked, her mouth a tight line.

  “A dress?” Paula said, stating the obvious.

  “No. This is goodbye, the kiss off, the statement of farewell. He has decided for some reason or other that he doesn’t want to see me again, and this little item is supposed to do the trick.”

  “Well,” Paula began hesitantly, “maybe it would be best, in view of what’s happened, just to let it go....”

  Cindy threw the box across the room.

  “I guess not,” Paula amended quickly.

  “The coward!” Cindy spat. “Well, they have to discharge him sooner or later. He can’t avoid me forever.”

  Paula picked up the dress box and set it on a chair.

  “If he wants to say goodbye he’ll have to do it to my face,” Cindy said furiously. “When he gets out of the hospital I’ll track him down and strangle him with that bloody dress!”

  Paula waited until Cindy had stalked down the hall and into her bedroom. Then she sank onto the sofa and closed her eyes.

  Who would have thought that shy, bookish Lucinda had it in her?

  * * * *

  Fox was discharged from the hospital the next morning. As soon as Cindy got word of his release from the information desk, she took Paula’s car keys and left her a note. Paula had worked the night before and was still sleeping.

  Cindy drove to Fox’s condominium with a lot on her mind, the least of which was Dr. Markel’s warning about driving. She didn’t seem to be experiencing the dizziness or blurring of vision that he had discussed, so she forged ahead, more concerned about her showdown with her lover than the state of her health.

  Next to her on the passenger seat was the box containing the blue dress. She eyed it as if it were a toad. He was going to be very sorry he ever came up with the idea of sending it.

  She walked through the rarefied air of the lobby in Fox’s building as if she belonged there. Luckily the security guard remembered her from her previous visits and waved her on. Cindy was working herself into fine mettle as she ascended to the fourth floor, and she rang the bell with the dress box under her arm like a crossbow.

  A middle-aged woman answered the door. Startled, Cindy stammered that she wanted to see Mr. Fox.

  “I’m the cleaning lady,” the woman answered. “Mrs. Hallam, just hired last week. Mr. Fox ordered up a whole houseful of new furniture and then discovered that it has to be dusted.” She chuckled at her own joke.

  Cindy smiled wanly. “Yes, I know. Could you tell him that I’m here and would like to see him? My name is Cindy Warren.”

  “Oh, he’s not at home,” Mrs. Hallam said, shaking out her dust rag. “I’ll be happy to leave a message.”

  “Not at home?” Cindy said. “He was just discharged from the hospital this morning.”

  “Huh,” Mrs. Hallam said disgustedly. “You didn’t think that would nail his feet to the floor, did you? He no sooner marched in here than he marched out again, still wearing a sling on that bad arm.”

  “Do you know where he went?”

  Mrs. Hallam looked her over suspiciously. “I don’t know if I should say.”

  “Please, Mrs. Hallam. It’s very important. I really have to see him today.”

  “Are you the little lady who picked out all this stuff?” Mrs. Hallam asked, gesturing expansively at the apartment behind her. “Mr. Fox talked about that.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Mrs. Hallam nodded. “He told me he was going out to that property his uncle owns at some lake. Do you know where it is?”

  “Thank you, yes, I do. I really appreciate the information. It was nice meeting you. Goodbye.” Cindy was off down the hall again instantly, leaving Mrs. Hallam to stare after her, shaking her head.

  The drive to the lake seemed to take much longer than it had when she was with Fox, and she got lost once when she took a wrong turn. She hadn’t been paying much attention to the route on her previous trip. But she recognized the scenery on the road to Eli’s house, and as she passed it she remembered his invitation to come and see him. It looked like she never would.

  She continued down the road, and it wasn’t long before she saw Fox’s pickup in the distance. She pulled up behind it and got out of the car, lifting the dress box into her arms again. She was really tired of carrying it around with her like a cardboard albatross, but it appeared that she would be relieved of her burden soon. She heard a series of reports, sounding very loud in the wooded stillness. They continued, getting louder as she picked her way through the trees toward the shore of the lake. When she broke through the ground cover and into the clearing, she saw Fox about two hundred feet ahead of her, firing a gun.

  He was taking target practice. He had set up a makeshift fence along the water, and was methodically shooting beer bottles off it into the dirt. His stance didn’t waver and he didn’t look at her. He never missed. Cindy watched him undetected for a while, and then when he paused to set up new targets she called out to him. He spun around and stared at her, waiting silently as she walked across the grassy shore to his side. He didn’t say a word.

  “Hello, Drew,” Cindy said when she reached him, with a calmness that surprised her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Stabbed,” he said shortly, and she smiled thinly.

  “I see that. I like your sling. It gives you a decidedly piratical air.”

  “You mean more than usual?” he responded, and then added, “How did you find me?”

  “I went to your place and your cleaning lady told me where you were. Does your doctor know you’re out here doing this?”

  “My doctor doesn’t know a stethoscope from a stapler.”

  He obviously wasn’t going to make this easy for her, so she decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. “I came to return this to you,” she said flatly, and extended the box toward him.

  He looked at it, then at her, making no move to take it. She bent and set it on the ground.

  He watched her, rubbing his cheek with the back of his uninjured arm, the gun dangling loosely from his fingers.

  Cindy shuddered. “Would you mind not waving that thing in my face?” she said sharply. “I hate guns.”
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  Fox tucked it into the waistband of his pants. “So do I, but I find it necessary to be proficient with them in my line of work.” He waited a couple of beats and then said, “Why don’t you want the dress?”

  “I prefer memories over material things,” she said simply, and she saw the impact of her statement hit him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked tightly.

  “I am, although you would have no way of knowing it.”

  His eyes flashed. “I was in touch with that Dr. Markel the whole time you were in the hospital!” he said angrily. “Right up until the minute you were discharged.”

  “Why wouldn’t you see me while you were there?” she flared back at him.

  He looked away from her. “I thought it best to leave you alone. You were hurt twice because of me; I’m obviously not good for your health.”

  “I see. And it never occurred to you that I might be worried about you, that I might want to see for myself that you were okay?”

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cindy. I’m sorry about all of it.”

  “All of it?” she asked, emphasizing the first word.

  He knew exactly what she meant. “All of it,” he repeated. “Getting involved with me was a mistake. Next time you might not be so lucky. Next time you might wind up in the morgue.”

  His voice was so cold, so distant, that it was hard for her to believe this was the same man who had made such passionate love to her only a few days before.

  “All right, Drew,” Cindy said. “I can’t say I’m surprised. This is precisely the reaction I thought I would get from you. I know you very well, I find. I can predict your moods like the rising of the sun.”

  He looked at her then, his light eyes measuring, wondering whether she would make a scene.

  “I’m going,” she announced. “But before I do I want to say something to you, and I want you to listen.”

  He didn’t move, and his expression didn’t change.

  “I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself that you have the noblest of motives in sending me away. You can tell yourself that you’re protecting me, and you may actually believe that. You can tell yourself that it’s because of your parents and believe that’s valid too. But the truth is you’re scared.”