by Donald Wells
“Don’t you mean Mr. Thorne’s attorney?”
Crane smiled. “It really doesn’t matter, does it?”
“I suppose you’re here for the DNA results?”
“Yes, by the way, I’ve become aware that little Hannah is suffering from a rare genetic disease and is a patient in this very hospital.”
“That’s true.” I said.
“I also heard that only a male parent carries the gene needed to cure her of this disease.”
“Also true,”
Crane gestured me closer and dropped his voice.
“Listen, Mr. Faron, we both know that you’re not the father, otherwise you would have had the procedure by now. David Thorne may be a fiend, but I’m not. Call off your hunt for Thorne and I’ll see to it that he donates the needed genetic material to save your daughter.”
I walked back over to where Felicia stood and leaned against the wall. “No deal Crane, oh and by the way,” I lifted up my shirt to reveal the bandaged incision that Stu Simon had made less than an hour ago. “I’ve had the procedure. Hannah is my daughter.”
Crane looked at my bandage and then glanced over at his partner.
“Have we been paid yet?”
“Up until today, anything beyond the DNA test will be billed later.”
Crane stared at me again. “This case is about to be dropped.”
The lab tech appeared. She was in her mid-forties, very thin with close-cropped red hair.
“Mr. Faron, do you have legal counsel present?”
“No I don’t, does it matter?”
She shook her head and handed me a sealed envelope. Crane received one also and we opened them at the same time.
Crane’s face fell, as he looked at his partner.
“99.999% Probability,”
I smiled at him. “Goodbye Mr. Crane,”
Crane took Miriam Thorne by the elbow and guided her out of the room.
Felicia gave me a big kiss. “How did you do that?”
I said, “Not here,” and walked with her out to the elevators.
We stepped into a crowd of people and rode up to Hannah’s floor in silence. When we arrived, we were told that Hannah was being moved upstairs in preparation to have the procedure done, that would initiate the cure. A nurse was rolling her out of the room in a wheelchair as we got to the door.
“Daddy!”
“Hello baby girl, how’s daddy’s little angel?”
“I’m tired, but Dr. Ramsey says he’s gonna cure my blood boo boo.”
“I know, and daddy is so happy.”
Hannah smiled up at Felicia. “You were right mommy, daddy fixed me.”
“Yes baby, now go with the nurse and be a good girl for Dr. Ramsey. Mommy and daddy will be along soon.”
“Alright mommy, bye bye I love you, I love you too daddy.”
I leaned down and hugged her. “I love you Hannah.”
After the nurse left with Hannah, I walked into the bathroom. I told Felicia, “Come on in and lock the door, I’m going to need help with this.”
“With what?”
I took off my shirt. “Thorne’s gotten under my skin for the last time—literally.”
I removed a watch from my right wrist and a bracelet from my left, afterward, I used a thumbnail and poked open the small incision on my left arm.
Felicia grimaced.
“What are you doing?”
“This is how I passed the DNA test. Years ago, I read about a psychiatrist who was accused of raping a female patient while she was under hypnosis. The police were called and collected a semen sample with a rape kit. The psychiatrist consented to take a DNA test, saying that it would prove that he wasn’t a match with the semen sample.
“However, a sharp-eyed lab technician realized that the blood taken for the test looked old and was actually turning brown with age. The judge ordered a second test be done, and this time it was discovered that the psychiatrist had a tube running up each arm, just under the skin, a phony vein that was filled with blood from a friend.”
Felicia stared at my arms. “You mean you…?”
“Yes.” I said, and then I took out the tweezers that Dr. Simon had given me and proceeded to pull cautiously at the end of the tube in my left arm.
Felicia took the tweezers from me. “Let me do it.”
Within minutes, we had the tubes out of my arms and flushed down the toilet.
“What if they had picked a different vein?” Felicia said.
“Luck was with us, that and procedure, they usually draw blood from the largest vein. Dr. Simon designed the tubes himself and made sure that they were slightly larger than my own veins.”
Felicia dabbed at the blood on my wrists with toilet paper.
“What about that incision on your side?”
“It has to look like I had the procedure done on my liver; I’ll have a scar there for life.”
Felicia hugged me. “You’re a miracle worker.”
I hugged her back. “You’re my miracle, you and Hannah.”
* * *
We left the bathroom and walked to the solarium. In a quiet corner, we talked about Thorne.
Felicia took my hands. “Was it horrible?”
“Killing Thorne? Baby it was meaningless. At one time I thought it would give me great pleasure, but it just saddened me, the waste of it all, but at least he won’t harm anyone else.”
Felicia smiled wide, as a look of relief washed over her.
“We’re free! No more guards, no more attempts on your life, and soon Hannah will be healthy and we can go home.”
“Hannah’s not the only one who can come home.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mona, she’s essentially been pardoned. The state is dropping the murder indictment against her and charging her with manslaughter instead. They’re also going to take into account the extenuating circumstances of her abuse and the trauma of losing her baby. She has to turn herself in and she’ll be on probation for ten years, but she’s no longer a fugitive. She can come home now.”
“How?”
“I traded Thorne in exchange for Mona’s freedom.”
Felicia looked around before speaking in a whisper.
“But David’s dead, you killed him.”
“After we harvest his organs for Hannah, we’re flying him back to Amsterdam, once there, his body will be handed over to the American embassy in The Hague. McCarthy’s going to discover that Ahmed, the white slaver, was also selling organs on the black market. Ahmed and Thorne had a violent dispute over money and…”
Felicia stared at me in disbelief. “My sister can come home?”
“Baby, I’m hoping that they’ll come live with us, lord knows we’ve got the room.”
“Oh Johnny, you don’t know what this means, all the years I had to hide her, hide her from you and from Bill, protect Mary, oh God.”
She started crying. I stood up with her and held her. Moments later, she dabbed her eyes with a tissue and we headed toward the elevators to join Hannah.
As we passed the gift shop, I told her to wait while I went inside. When I came out, I handed her flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates.
I sighed. “Happy Valentine’s Day baby,”
79
Ms. Lee surprised me by calling from Amsterdam and asking for an indeterminate leave of absence. She said she wanted to stay by Richard’s side and help him recover from his injuries.
I wholeheartedly agreed with her decision and prayed that the injuries she helped him recover from, were also those within his soul that still required mending.
Mona, Tyler and the kids arrived in Castle Ridge on the first day of spring. Mona was actually nervous about meeting her Aunt Sophie, because she had heard from Felicia that Sophie abhorred violence, and the killing of Dominic was something she once said that she could never forgive, this, despite the fact that Sophie despised the brutal man.
When Mona and her brood emerged from the l
imo, Sophie’s mouth dropped open and her eyes grew misty. The four children stood before her and stared up with questioning eyes.
Sophie looked from face to face, marveling at the sight.
“So much family, my God Felicia, there are so many of us now.”
Mona stepped forward and offered her hand.
“Aunt Sophie, I’m Mona, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
Sophie stared down at Mona’s hand, but made no move to take it. Mona appeared disheartened by Sophie’s apparent rebuff and lowered her hand, but Sophie then stepped forward and took Mona in her arms.
“Welcome home, no one’s ever going to hurt you again.”
Mona nodded and began to cry, a moment later, the children joined in the hugging and Sophie was surrounded by family.
* * *
Felicia and I stood in the doorway of the living room, watching the children play.
Hannah was nearly back to full strength and she and her Cousin Alison played together as if they were sisters.
I turned to Felicia. “Why do we only have Hannah? You once told me that you wanted five or six children.”
She looked back at me with searching eyes.
“I was thinking of you, because of the child you lost with Tori, I, I didn’t know if you wanted more.”
I smiled. “Hannah broke me of my fear a long time ago.”
“I would love to give you a son.”
I nodded. “Yes, maybe someday,”
“Is something wrong? You seem a little sad.”
I kissed her. “No baby, I’m anything but sad, look at this house, it’s full of children and family.”
“Thanks to you, you don’t know what it means to me to have my sister home, to have her safe at last.”
“I think I do, I think I do.”
* * *
I arose early the next morning and went into Hannah’s bedroom, the former nursery, and kissed my sweet daughter in her sleep. I then crept down to my study and wrote Felicia a letter.
Baby,
I know we promised that we would talk things out whenever one of us was bothered by something, but I think what I want to say to you will be better relayed through this letter.
Now that David Thorne no longer threatens us and Hannah is home and recovering from her illness, I’ve had a lot of time to think about us.
Actually, I’ve thought a lot about you, about your life.
You went from an abusive father, to a loving, but controlling aunt and into the arms of a man who turned out to be a nightmare, a nightmare which only now are you fully awakening from. And through it all, there I was, at times protecting you, at other times, like those lost years when Thorne blackmailed you, I was like some beacon of hope, of a life you once wished to have.
We can have that life now. We can spend the rest of our days building our family and loving each other, yet, I feel as if in some ways, I’ve given you as little freedom as Thorne once did.
When you came to live with me you were pregnant, scared and nearly destitute, you also had the weight of both Mona and Sophie’s futures on your shoulders.
I realized yesterday that this is the first time in your life that you’ve been truly safe, the first time that you have nothing and no one to be in fear of, or to fear for, and that your future lies open before you.
Your father is gone, Thorne is gone, and, if you so desire, I will also take my leave.
I love you beyond life Felicia and all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. You needed me once, once when you were a broken little girl, and I came along to mend you, but you’re no longer broken, and you no longer need me. Still, I prayer with all my soul that you want me even half as much as I know you love me.
Along with this letter, I’ve enclosed papers granting you a divorce.
I know. It may seem silly, but I can’t walk into the future with you unless I know that it’s what you truly want.
I need us to put all doubts, suspicions and fears behind us and move forward without the slightest reservation. Sign these papers and you’re not only free, but the house is yours along with half of all I have. I made no provisions for custody of Hannah, because I know that if it came to that, you would be fair.
I do this so that for once in your life you know you have a choice, that you’re unbound by obligation, responsibility or fear, that you’re truly free. I love you so much baby and all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.
It’s also time I said goodbye to my own past, goodbye to Tori. I’m going to pack up the apartment and the fix-it shop and look only toward the future, a future I pray to God includes you.
I love you Felicia and I want us to have a fresh start. If that’s what you want too, then please, meet me at the shop, back where we began, and we’ll begin anew.
With all my love,
Johnny
I placed the letter and the divorce papers into an envelope and crept back into our bedroom, to slip them atop the table by the bed. I then left our home and made my way to town.
80
With tears in my eyes, I packed the last of Tori’s things away and made my way downstairs to the shop.
Everything was so like I’d remembered it, that I half expected to see my grandfather smiling at me from the workbench.
I took a seat upon my old stool and pondered the course of my life, particularly thinking of my life with Tori.
Without warning, I was in the stilt house again, gripping the brass handle of the glass block door and facing the choice that would determine my life.
I forced my mind away from that moment, as I always did, as I was cautioned to do. Yet, this time my mind refused to obey and transported me back there.
With perfect clarity, I saw the choice before me, saw that acre of flooring taunting me in its vastness, inhaled the sea air and felt the wind flowing upward from the ocean below.
The desperate sobbing of two women that I loved dearly came to my ears and I felt myself tense to leap.
Yet, I could only save one. But which? And why?
I went there then, went to that place where reason does not exist, for in that domain lives only the heart.
Tori or Felicia?
I saw the answer, understood at last my reasonless reason for choosing Felicia and came to know that the heart is a selfish beast.
I chose Felicia for one reason and one reason only—survival.
My heart knew what my mind would not admit, that I could not live in a world devoid of Felicia Delgado, that had I somehow saved Tori while Felicia perished, Tori would now be living with a husk of a man.
On that very day, I pledged to spend the rest of my life with Tori and have no doubt that I would have done so, would have cherished her and lived a full and happy life.
But that life could only take place if Felicia were whole, if she were happy herself.
Had I simply let her fall without attempting to save her, I would have died along with her in any and all ways that mattered. I would have spent my life in a depth of mourning that made the one I suffered over Tori pale in comparison.
Every living organism seeks its own survival, and I, I was no different.
* * *
I awoke as if from a trance and realized that someone was knocking at the shop door. I wiped my eyes free of tears and went to answer it, praying to find Felicia.
It was not Felicia, but a courier. I relieved him of his burden and went back to my seat at the workbench.
I opened the package and out came the envelope that I had placed the divorce papers in.
My heart stopped beating.
However, I quickly realized that the envelope was bulkier than it should be. I opened it to find that Felicia had shredded the documents into a million pieces.
We were going to start afresh.
We were going to begin anew.
I was bent over the workbench in what used to be my grandfather’s fix-it shop, when the bell over the door tinkled the arrival of a visitor. I straightened up
and swiveled the stool around to look at her.
She was just my life, my very life. In her arms, she held a red plastic clock molded into the shape of a heart. Her long, curly, honey brown hair framed large expressive eyes, which looked about the shop and then spotted me seated behind the counter.
She smiled, lighting up the world, and then she leaned in the doorway and asked me a question.
“Hey mister, can you fix a broken heart?”
You’ve just read
THE FIX-IT MAN
By
Donald Wells
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1
He first becomes aware that she’s watching him, as he sits outside the quaint bistro in Greenwich Village, the one that serves the almond croissants he likes so much.
She’s across the street in an alley, hiding among shadows. At odd little intervals, she pokes her head out from behind the wall and sneaks glances at him. She is obviously a street person, at least judging by the clothes she’s wearing. The word “clothes” is being kind, even from where David Manning is seated, he can tell that her garments are little more than rags.
I hope she’s not a nut case. The last thing I need is to be stalked by some street person.
The waitress brings David his croissant and freshens his cup of coffee, as the mid-September sun glints brightly off the carafe.
When the waitress leaves, David looks up to find that the girl has come out from the shadows and is now standing on the sidewalk in front of him, staring intently.
