Slumbered to Death

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to the hospital for this.” He squeezed his eyes closed.

  “Dad, you were shot. I think you can go to the hospital and still keep your he-man card,” Sadie said.

  “I’m not going to the hospital, and that’s that,” he said. “I just need to get to the bathroom so I can get this cleaned up. And you are paying for my window, old woman.”

  “These windows should have been replaced years ago,” Abby said. “New ones probably don’t break so easily. This house is woefully outdated, Gideon. It’s a menace.”

  “Go home, you old bat,” Gideon said. Sadie didn’t know if he was clenching his teeth from annoyance or pain.

  “Dad, don’t talk to Abby that way,” she said.

  “She shoots me, and you still take her side. Figures,” Gideon said.

  “Let’s go to the hospital, or do you want me to call an ambulance?”

  His eyes popped open to glare at her. “An ambulance? So I can become can laughingstock? No, thank you.”

  Sadie wasn’t sure what to do with him. She had never been able to make him do something he didn’t want to do, but he had been shot. He had to go to the hospital, didn’t he? Like a ray of light, Mary appeared at the front door.

  “What’s going on? I could hear the shouting from my car,” she said.

  “Ah, Mary. Finally, a sensible female enters the scene,” Gideon said. Sadie thought it was typical that her dad hadn’t seen the woman in three years, and yet that was his opening greeting.

  “What’s the problem, Gideon? Why are you standing like that?” Mary asked.

  “She shot me,” he said.

  Mary’s eyes rested on Sadie. Sadie pointed to Abby. “He’s had it coming for years,” Abby said.

  “What are you waiting for? Let’s go to the hospital,” Mary said.

  “Not you, too,” Gideon said. “I’m not going to the hospital; I just need to get to the bathroom and get this cleaned up.”

  Mary crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, Gideon. Walk to the bathroom.”

  He stood upright, sucked in a breath, and bent over again, his face draining of color. “I can’t get there alone,” he muttered.

  “Well, none of us is going to help you because we all think you need to go to the hospital,” Mary said. “So it seems to me that you have two choices: you can either ride in my car or we’ll call an ambulance. What’s it going to be?”

  “I’ll ride in your car,” he said between gritted teeth. “Is anyone going to help me get there, or are you all going to stand around and laugh while I bleed out?”

  “Of course we’ll help you,” Mary said. She came forward and took one side of him while Hal took the other.

  “I’m going to go with them,” Hal said. “We get extra points for rounding up our own patients.”

  “Who is this man?” Gideon asked, glaring at Hal.

  “He’s a doctor,” Sadie explained.

  “He’s a child.”

  “He’s my age,” Sadie argued.

  “Exactly. If he’s a doctor, then why are we going to the hospital?” Gideon asked. He balked again and stared hard at Hal.

  “I just ate and you have to wait thirty minutes before doctoring,” Hal said. “I don’t make the rules, sir.”

  “He’s not allowed to practice medicine outside the hospital, Dad,” Sadie said. “He’s a resident. Now go to the hospital before sepsis sets in and you have to have a glutectomy.”

  “That’s not a real thing, is it?” Gideon asked Hal.

  “I never argue with Sadie’s judgment,” Hal said.

  “Great,” Gideon said. “Just great. House full of freaks. Mary, your front tire is low,” he groused as they stepped onto the porch.

  “That’s certainly foremost on my mind right now, Gideon,” Mary said. Her voice faded away as the trio walked to the car. Abby and Sadie stood in the living room staring at the front door until the car started and drove away.

  “Is it safe to laugh now?” Abby asked.

  “Did you see his face?” Sadie said.

  “He could do a commercial for constipation with that face,” Abby said, and that was the catalyst to release their laughter.

  It took a long time for their hilarity to die down, and then Sadie had to nail a board over the broken window. When they were finally able to drive to the hospital, Sadie’s eyes were watery from laughing, and there was an officer waiting to question them.

  “Which one of you shot the chief?” he asked.

  “Me, I did it,” Sadie said. “It was an accident. I’m so sorry.” She pressed her hand to her eyes and summoned the tears that were always her ready helpmates.

  Abby pulled her into a tight hug and glared at the officer. “Is this really necessary, young man? Can’t you see how upset she is? The gun went off, nothing she could do about it.”

  “It was so heavy,” Sadie sobbed. “I didn’t think it was pointing at the window. Dad is never going to forgive me for this, never.” She wept harder, tamping down her laughter when she pictured her father’s face.

  The officer shifted, stared at his pad, made some notations, and cleared his throat. “Clearly there was no intent here. I’ll put in my report as an accidental discharge. You really shouldn’t touch guns, Miss. They require a lot of skill.”

  Sadie nodded and sniffled, not removing her face from Abby’s shoulder. The officer ambled away, looking glad to get a reprieve from her tears. Sadie stood upright and wiped her eyes. “Sadie, why did you do that?” Abby asked.

  “Because I didn’t know how much trouble we were in. I figured I had a better chance of getting off than you,” Sadie said.

  “But now you’re going to get all the credit,” Abby complained.

  “The people who really matter will know that you’re the one who shot him,” Sadie said.

  “I suppose,” Abby said. They sat in the waiting room. Mary was nowhere in sight, and neither was Hal. By now Sadie knew him well enough to know that he was probably cutting in on the action, but where was Mary? Had she gone home? Probably. Sadie couldn’t see Gideon letting anyone go back with him and hold his hand while he had his backside polished. She was wrong, however. A few minutes after their arrival, Mary emerged from the double swinging doors.

  “How is he?” Sadie asked.

  “Surly,” Mary replied. “You can go back; they’re done cleaning him up, and he’s waiting to be released.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I can stay out here.”

  “Sadie, he didn’t think you would come. I told him you would.”

  “He’s going to yell at me.”

  “He’s not, and even if he does, it’s what families do: they support each other when the chips are down.”

  “The chips are always down in our family,” Sadie said. Mary gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Abby stayed quiet. Sadie had the feeling she disagreed with Mary, but Mary was seeing Gideon through rose-colored glasses. She hadn’t been privy to Gideon’s treatment over the years. Still, the squirm of guilt and responsibility in her chest couldn’t be ignored. Taking a deep, bracing breath, she stood and pushed through the swinging doors.

  Gideon was lying face down on a gurney. “Shadie!” he blurted as soon as she walked into his line of vision. “My little girl.”

  “I guess they gave you something for the pain, huh, Dad?”

  “I dunno, but I can’t feel anything.” He reached around and began jabbing the bandage on his backside.

  “Don’t do that, Dad.”

  “Why? Doesn’t hurt.”

  “It will later. Stop.” She took his hand and made it stop poking.

  He squeezed her hand and gave her a drool-laced smile. “M’kay. You’re so pretty, Sadie. You look just like your mom.”

  “I know, Dad,” Sadie said.

  “It hurts to look at you.”

  Sadie winced. “I know, Dad.”

  “I miss her.”

  Her eyes opened wide at that comment. “You do?”


  “Loved her. Always loved the wrong person. Maybe I should get a dog.”

  “You hate dogs.”

  “I love dogs.”

  Now was not the time to remind him that he had never let her have a dog. “Okay, get a dog,” she said.

  He gave her another goofy grin. “My little girl,” he said, and followed it up with a huge yawn. “I’m so sleepy.”

  “Go to sleep, Daddy.”

  “M’kay,” he said, and then he was out.

  Tentatively, Sadie reached out and made a few passes over his head. Hal poked his head around the curtain, and Sadie withdrew her hand as if she had been caught doing something bad. She stepped outside the curtain.

  “What did you guys give him?” she asked.

  “Horse tranquillizers. They’re illegal, but we needed something powerful enough to make him stop yelling at us. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine,” Sadie said.

  “I know you are. Is there anything that gets you down, Sadie?”

  “Humidity. Plays havoc with my hair.”

  “I love a woman who can lie with a straight face. Do you think we should have called Luke? I feel bad that we left him,” Hal said.

  “I don’t think so. Luke’s in a mood. The best cure is to let him brood with his books for a while until he emerges on his own.”

  “I can’t get you guys. You’re more connected than any two people I’ve known, but you’re not together. There’s a divide between you, and it’s abnormal, like a gap between two teeth. Care to enlighten me?”

  “Hal, I’m twenty eight, and I’m just starting to figure out who I am. There were a lot of bumps and mistakes along the way. Luke was one of those bumps. I hurt him, and I don’t think he’ll ever really forgive me.”

  “Luke is smart, and he has a big heart, Sadie.”

  “That’s the problem. Big hearts mean big hurts, and enough intelligence to stay away from whatever wounds.” She heard the despair in her voice. Things with Luke were better. They were talking. They were friends. But it wasn’t like it was before. He kept space between them, a buffering distance that Sadie tried hard to respect.

  “Give him time. He’ll come around,” Hal promised. “Do you want some help getting your dad home?”

  “Yes, please,” she said. She peeked around the curtain and saw Gideon still unconscious. If they could somehow wrangle him home and into bed before the medicine wore off, their lives would all be easier.

  “Let me recruit a couple of orderlies.” He signaled toward the front desk. “Are we taking Mary’s car again?”

  “Yes,” Sadie said.

  “I didn’t know your dad had a girlfriend,” Hal said.

  “He doesn’t.”

  “Really? He and Mary were like a lot of long-term couples I know—comfortable with lots of bickering.”

  “Apparently they’re friends. I didn’t know my dad had any of those.”

  The orderlies arrived and, after studying Gideon and debating with each other for a while, decided to roll him out as he was. Mary met them at the emergency entrance. Sadie stood back while the orderlies stuffed her father into the backseat like a sack of potatoes, his rear end pushed high in the air. She took a picture for posterity, and possibly for future blackmail. Gideon would hate knowing he had been handled so unceremoniously.

  Sadie and Abby followed behind Mary, Hal, and Gideon. Once home, Sadie retrieved the rolling chair from Gideon’s office. They propped him up and pushed him to the house, each of them taking a turn pulling him upright when he slid down in the chair.

  “I used to think Weekend at Bernie’s was far-fetched,” Hal whispered. They dumped Gideon from the chair to the bed and tiptoed out of the room while Mary tucked him in.

  “Thanks for everything, Hal,” Sadie said.

  “Never a dull moment with you, Sadie. The amusement is worth any price.” He kissed her cheek and let himself out just as Mary eased out of Gideon’s room.

  “I have those files you requested, Sadie,” Mary said. “My initial thought was correct: there are three open missing cases.” She and Sadie walked to her car. Sadie waited while she reached inside and pulled out a large stack of papers.

  “Well, I know where the rest of my evening is going to go,” Sadie said. “Thanks, Mary, and thanks for helping with Dad.”

  “No problem,” Mary said.

  “You’re really good at dealing with him.”

  “Years of practice,” Mary said.

  “He’s going to need a lot of care until he recovers. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, maybe you could pop in from time to time to smooth his ruffled feathers.”

  Mary beamed and quickly wiped her expression. “I suppose I could try to find some time.” She tapped the stack of papers in Sadie’s hands. “Don’t stay up too late with those.”

  Sadie promised not to get too involved in them, but she knew she wouldn’t go to sleep until she had read every word of the files. She stood in the driveway, waving to Mary, and then closeted herself in her room for the next few hours.

  Chapter 6

  Luke woke with a start. He had somehow fallen asleep on an organic chemistry book so thick he would no doubt have a crick. It was his favorite time of the day, and he was about to miss it. He had slept in his clothes the night before so there was no need to get dressed. He hopped out of bed and sprinted down the stairs, stopping short in the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. He hurried to the living room and leaned against the door. Sadie was in the middle of her first sun salutation: he hadn’t missed yoga.

  “Join me,” she said when she noticed him lurking.

  “I yawned when I woke up, so I’m good,” he said.

  “Yoga is not normally a spectator sport,” she said.

  “You know me—I need to observe a long time before I decide to join something.”

  “You say that as if you ever have any intent of yogaing with me.”

  “I don’t think you can use yoga as a verb, and I’m more than content to hang out here.” He sipped his coffee and smiled as she slipped into downward facing dog.

  “Creeper, party of one, your table is ready,” Sadie said.

  “Everyone needs a hobby,” Luke said.

  “Come over here,” she commanded.

  “Sadie, yoga is not my thing, okay? I know real men wear pink and all, but it’s just not me.”

  “Luke, a good time to pretend to be too manly for yoga might have been before you screamed like a little girl when you saw a spider on the cereal box.”

  “I swear it was a black widow,” he said.

  “Captain Crunch is like manna to them,” she said. “Come over here and stretch with me, or I’m not going to let you watch anymore.”

  Reluctantly, he set aside his coffee and went to stand beside her, mimicking the moves of the person on television. He would never admit as much to her, but the stretching felt good. His endorphins were beginning to flow when Sadie’s leg shot out, hooked around his, and pulled him to the ground. She jumped on him and pinned him.

  “Ha!”

  “Exactly what kind of yoga is this?” he asked. “Because I think I like it.”

  “This isn’t yoga; this is me proving to you that I can take care of myself,” she explained. “I took you down and pinned you, so there.”

  “Oh, is that what we’re doing?” He flipped her and pinned her arms over her head. “Thanks for filling me in. And may I add, ha.”

  Somewhere along the way he had become freakishly strong, at least compared to what he used to be. Sadie struggled, but she was hopelessly stuck. Luke was enjoying her misery.

  “I’m not even breaking a sweat,” he said.

  She raised her head and bit his neck. He squealed and let her go. She grabbed his arm, wrenched it, and sat on his back. She would have gloated, but she was still out of breath.

  “Really, Sadie, you’re going to tickle your attacker?”

  “If that’s what it takes to win,” she panted.

&nbs
p; He scissor kicked his legs to get some leverage and flipped again, pinning her beneath him. This time he kept his neck out of reach. Sadie fought furiously, but he was relentless. He pressed heavily on her, inhibiting her movements down to almost nothing. She writhed for almost fifteen minutes. Luke feigned boredom so she wouldn’t know how much energy it was taking to keep her pinned. Finally Sadie went limp, panting as she stared up at him. He watched the calculation taking place behind her eyes. When she raised her head again, he pinched his head against his neck to stop her from biting, but she bypassed his neck and went for his lips instead, kissing him. Now it was his turn to go limp—with surprise. Sadie used it to her advantage to flip and pin him.