Aye, I am a Fairy

by Dani Haviland

  Billy took over when he saw the look of confusion on James’s face. Evidently he didn’t know that Leah’s first name was Audie. He literally pulled him close to him by the elbow, squeezing it as if to say, ‘Hush, let me handle this.’ James didn’t argue. Billy was trustworthy and knew the people in this town and hospital better than he ever could—or would, since he was leaving in a few days.

  “Yes, we’re here for her. What’s going on, Dr. Andrews?”

  James had never seen this side of Billy, and in the one short week since he’d known him, he’d seen lots of his aspects. Billy didn’t like this doctor and didn’t care if he or anyone else knew it. He was barely keeping himself in check.

  The doctor took a split-second to recover from Billy’s look of sheer loathing, then covered his momentary shock with a holier-than-thou attitude. The young intern was condescending in his posture and hadn’t been in their presence for even one minute! The egotistical medic looked down again at his paperwork, either stalling or truly trying to figure out what to say to the pair.

  Billy still had hold of James by the elbow, and his grasp was tightening. James reached across, put his other hand on top of Billy’s, then felt him relax. ‘Whatever this jerk has been to you, he is nothing now.’

  Billy felt the non-verbal reassurance from James, and a sense of joy and security replaced the negativity. His friend was here to help him deal with the prick in super-starched blue scrubs.

  Dr. Andrews cleared his throat and looked up. James didn’t need anyone to tell him that Leah was okay—he had known it deep down inside even before Dr. Full-of-himself came out. Now he was here for Billy. James placed a phony smile on his face, inviting the doctor to give it his best shot.

  “Audie is fine. She was knocked out temporarily from the fall. Her blood pressure was low, but we gave her a 7-Up and that seemed to help. She said she hadn’t eaten since late yesterday afternoon, so as soon as she gets some breakfast in her, she’ll be ready to go home. Which one of you is she with?” he asked, looking back and forth between the faces of the two men still clutching each other.

  “Both of us,” said James with pride. He turned to make sure that Billy was okay. Billy was very okay. He was beaming.

  “Now about the other thing…” James started to ask about the syringe, but the narcissistic doctor had turned away from them, dismissing them without a word.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you,” James hollered as he took three fast steps to catch up with the doctor, leaving Billy standing where he was. He grabbed the doctor’s arm, causing the surprised medic to turn and swing his clipboard at him.

  “Whoa, there!” James said. “I just want to know about the syringe she was stabbed with. What was in it?”

  Dr. Andrews huffed and snorted, either from anger or embarrassment—or both. He calmed his breathing and brought up the clipboard again. He looked over the report and replied in a cold, clinical, and heartless manner, “Sodium Thiopental; truth serum. That may be the reason she didn’t recover right away after the fall. It’s a barbiturate. It was not administered intravenously, so its effect on her system was hard to predict. Now, are there any more questions? I have other patients, you know.”

  James wanted to ask ‘Why are you such a dick?’ but decided it was better to just let the man go. No, he couldn’t let it lie; he had to ask. “Are you a real doctor, or did you just get busted from being an assistant high school football coach, and you carry the clipboard around to make you feel special?”

  James said it with a straight face, and was able to keep it that way, even though he could hear Billy laughing out loud behind him.

  Billy chortled out the answer for the vain and now very red-faced man. “He’s still an intern. Nobody will let him be a ‘real’ doctor. His people skills suck. This is his, what, sixth, hospital? Way to go, Terry! Why don’t you go to the North Pole for number seven? Nobody up there will know if you’re giving them the cold shoulder or not.” Billy crowed his taunts and laughed until he could barely stand upright, leaning against the admitting clerk’s window for support.

  Terry didn’t wait around to hear all of the jeers. He rudely pushed past a little old man and went into his inner sanctum, the emergency ward.

  Billy calmed down as he approached James. “Let’s go check on our lady,” he said, as he patted him on the back, then added softly, “And thanks for the support. Before we go in, though, let me give you a little back story. That jerk is a collector. It’s amazing that he hasn’t died of AIDS. And no, I’ve never had anything to do with him. The asshole, pardon my expression, takes great joy in ‘marking’ his conquests. He has a signet ring that he fires up red hot with a torch then uses it to brand his one night stands on the right butt cheek. Oh, he doesn’t believe in ever having the same man twice. He says the brand is both a badge of honor and to make sure he doesn’t repeat himself. However, he does have vast medical knowledge, and what I said is true; his bedside manner is rotten. He’s offended too many patients who were good friends or relatives of board members of at least a half dozen hospitals in this state.”

  Billy flashed his badge at the woman at the admitting desk who pushed the button and let him through. James followed right behind him, as if it was he were a part of the official investigative team, too.

  And there she was. Billy came over to her right side, James to her left. “Hey, honey, are you feeling better?” Billy asked.

  She turned her head from Billy to James, then back to Billy again. She snorted then scolded, “Right or left…you both have to be on the same side, or I’ll get an even bigger headache from bouncing back and forth between you.”

  Billy jumped up and down to James’s side in an exaggerated bunny hop, making everyone laugh. He brought the mood down just a notch and pointed to the bandage on her shoulder. “Now, I was told that that creep threw a syringe full of truth serum at you and that’s what stuck you…” he began.

  “What? That doctor never told me that! Shoot, they must have patched me up while I was asleep. I remember seeing it flying across the room, but I don’t remember anything but being thrown against the wall and falling down. And, hey, that doctor—or intern or whatever he is—should be fired. Do you know what he did?” she asked angrily.

  “What?” the men asked in unison, both with glares of rage skewing their faces.

  Leah saw the identical looks on her men. “You look like twins. Are you two related?”

  James and Billy looked at each other. “Hell, if I know,” Billy said. “I was an orphan, remember? Now, what did that sorry so and so do?”

  “He asked me if I had ever had sex with a doctor. I just shut my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I mean, really, I thought I was having another bad dream or something. Then he put his hand on my forehead, and stroked the side of my face, down to my neck and collarbone. He said that once you’ve had a doctor, a real doctor, that no other man can compare. Doctors, after all, know all the right places to, ugh, probe. As soon as I can sit up by myself, I’m yanking these tubes out of me and filing a report on him. He’ll never work in this state again!”

  Leah tried to sit up by herself and started to swoon. “Ooh, I think I’d better lie back down. I’m still a little woozy.” She closed her eyes and let her head plop back into the pillow, losing the battle against dizziness.

  Both men turned away from Leah and toward each other, their eyes livid, their curse words stifled. James warned his friend softly, “Don’t lose your job over this, Billy. You can’t go killing him in cold blood. Now, let’s just get Leah taken care of.”

  Billy grimaced, nodded, forced the corners of his mouth into a fake smile, and then turned around to face her. James, however, gave Leah a huge, relieved grin, happy that she had been spared major injury. “I was reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten for quite a while. How about if Billy waits here while I go get you some soup or a sandwich?”

  “It’s too hot for soup, but a tuna sandwich on whole wheat sounds good. And a
pickle, a big dill pickle. That’s supposed to help settle a queasy stomach. And a glass of milk, too, if you would.” She paused, stuck out her bottom lip, and added, “Puh lease.”

  James patted her hand, “I’m on it, darlin’. Don’t leave without me, okay?”

  Leah gave a weak smile in return, then closed her eyes with fatigue. Even talking was wearing her out.

  James glanced at Billy and saw that he was seething again. He put his hand on Billy’s forearm and made him look up at him. “Come outside with me just a second, okay? Leah, he’ll be right back.”

  She nodded and sighed. Hopefully, eating would give her back her strength. She had places to go, people to see, and being a patient in her own hospital was the last place she wanted to be.

  “Look, Billy,” James said softly, “you know how Leah is with violence. Remember how she freaked out—well, almost—when you inferred using a rubber hose on one of her assailants?”

  Billy nodded and grimaced in recall. “Yeah, you’re right. It would hurt her a lot more than him if I decked that asshole. Thanks. Now go get that sandwich and don’t forget the pickle.” Billy gave James a gentle sock to the upper arm. Yup, Leah was getting a great guy. If I ever had a brother, I’d want him to be just like him.

  James came back in ten minutes with three tuna on whole wheat sandwiches, three boxes of milk, and one big pickle. “I hope they don’t kick us out for having a picnic in here,” he said, as he took two of the sandwiches out of the bag and passed them to Billy.

  Billy set them on the swing-out hospital tray, then reached his hand over to James, palm spread out flat. “Don’t tell me you forgot the pickle? The lady has to have her pickle. A great big, firm juicy pickle.”

  James opened up the sack, looked inside blankly, and hoped he and Billy were providing a little slice of entertainment for their lady. “Oh, no, I…I…”

  Billy looked over. The smile was growing on Leah’s face. He decided it was okay to continue with their little extemporaneous comedy skit. “Oh, I’m sorry, James, I forgot. You can’t give her the pickle until you’re married.”

  James hadn’t expected that remark and literally started sputtering. He looked at Leah to see if she had picked up on the innuendo. Of course, she had. She was now giggling, her left hand and the IV tubing coming out of it, bouncing as she covered her mouth.

  Billy continued, “Now, since you’re going to be able to marry this fine young lady this evening….”

  “What?” Leah asked, sitting up from her reclined position.

  “Ooh, ooh,” James interrupted, mimicking Leah’s excited interjection, waving his hand in the air for recognition. “I was born in this hospital! I’ll bet with the help of a police officer, I could get a copy of my birth certificate…today! Ooh, ooh! Does that make you as happy as it does me?” Suddenly his face dropped. “You still want to marry me, right?” he asked, just a wee bit afraid that she would say no.

  “Yes, yes, hell yes!” she exclaimed, then fell back onto the upright mattress, the glow on her face assuring both men that she was positive she wanted to marry James. Tonight!

  “Well, then…” Billy resumed his role in the two-man comedy skit and reached into the lunch bag to grab the obscenely large dill pickle. He looked at James, saw he had regained his composure, and asked, “Are you going to be a man or a mouse? Are you going to give the lady the pickle tonight on your wedding night or wait until tomorrow? Hmm?” he asked broadly.

  James smirked, unable to contain his grin, and gave his reply to keep the act going. “Well, to tell you the truth…and since you asked…” He looked at Leah to make sure it was okay with her.

  She knew his thoughts, grinned, and nodded gently in answer to his unspoken question.

  “Since you asked,” he repeated, then hung his head in mock shame, “I was a rat. I did it last night…”

  James looked up, first at Leah—she was beaming—then at Billy. Any leftover sense of anger at Terry Andrews had disappeared. Billy was now whooping and knee slapping, overjoyed with word of their union.

  Billy came around the bed and punched James in the shoulder, then looked back at Leah. “See, I told you he wasn’t gay!” he crowed to her.

  James was wide-eyed with shock at the remark. She looked back at Billy, chagrined and embarrassed at the same time. She shrugged her good shoulder and said, “Well, not really straight as a telephone pole. He, uh, has a little curve…”

  Obviously, she had been told by her best gay friend that he wasn’t a homosexual, but had believed the tabloid stories instead. Ergh!

  Leah looked into James’s stern face, her hazel eyes misty, ashamed that she had not believed Billy’s report on him.

  James relaxed his offended stance, then shook his head at her in mock scorn. Well, it all worked out just fine. He’d forgive her without her asking. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

  Leah looked up, thanking him wordlessly with her smile for forgiving her. Crunch. She took a big bite of the crisp pickle, chewed it in exaggerated bliss, swallowed, and said, “I’ll take your pickle anytime you want to give it to me, dear. You are mine to keep, care for, and cherish. Now, let’s eat these sandwiches and get the flock out of here, my hero rams. I really don’t like being here on my day off. And if I’m never in here again, that will be too soon. At least, I hope I don’t ever have to come here to see anyone. Oh, shit! How’s Bibb?” she asked, embarrassed at her forgetfulness. “I should have asked earlier.”

  “The nurse said she thinks she’ll make it. She could see that failure wasn’t an option for her. I’ll be able to go in there in a little bit. Hey, eat your sandwich. I want you to get your strength back. We have lots to do before, well, before the wedding and then our camping trip.”

  “Are you going camping for your honeymoon?” Billy asked.

  Leah took in, then let out, a long controlled breath, finishing it with a smile that nearly split her dry lips. “That’s the plan. Hey, Billy, since James can’t go in to see Bibb, his mother,” she added with a grin, “for a while longer, could you go in and see how she’s really doing? I promise not to eat your sandwich. I’ll even let you have a bite of my…my…dill,” she said coyly, and held out the waxed-paper wrapped pickle.

  Billy looked at the pickle, then James, chuckled and said, “No, that’s just for you, dear. But I will go check on Bibb. But how about I take a milk for the road,” he said, and held out his hand.

  James gave him the half-pint carton. “Talk to her. Tell her about when you were a kid, what you liked to do, hobbies. Hey, she likes old cars, too. Talk about anything, but just talk to her—no questions. I don’t know where she’s been in the past week, or what’s happened to her, but I’m sure she’d like to be distracted from it. Don’t be a cop when you visit her, okay?”

  “Can do. Hopefully, I won’t be using up any of your ten minutes. I’ll be back in a bit.” Billy tipped an imaginary hat and walked down the hall to the ICU, his smile from the last few minutes fading. He was going to meet the local legend, a woman he had admired from afar. Her prognosis didn’t look good, but it could have been worse if they hadn’t received that anonymous phone tip and rescued her.

  **43 Visiting Bibb

  August 13, 2013, 8:00 AM

  Intensive Care Unit

  Billy had already seen the preliminary police report about the torture the Jane Doe—now identified as Bibb Stephens—had endured. He read of the physical damage in her medical report—the cigar burns on her arms and feet, the bruised and battered face, the contusions all over her body, and the raw skin around her wrists and ankles where she had been bound with duct tape. Her nose was broken, but there were no marks from either a fist or an implement to her face. She did have bruises on the back of her neck, though. Someone must have grabbed her there then slammed her head into a desk or wall. Some of the wounds were at least three days old, too. How long had she been held against her will until the anonymous tip led the narcotics crew to the cabin in the woods? She was
dehydrated, probably hadn’t eaten in days, and the fiends hadn’t even let her squat behind a bush, much less use a toilet. She had messed her pants, and then had to sit in it for days. Yet she still survived. Anyone with less character or fortitude would have died just because she gave up. But not Bibb. Whatever information or goods they wanted, they never received, or they wouldn’t have tried one more time an hour ago with the Sodium Thiopental, the truth serum.

  He felt sorry for James. From what he could gather, the man had only recently found out that this woman was his mother. There was a story behind their relationship—or lack thereof—but he didn’t know it. It really didn’t matter. He could tell James now felt very protective of the wounded woman. Good grief, he had to be in turmoil. He didn’t even know he was born in this hospital until a few moments ago. And his new-found mother was tortured for days, rescued, and then assaulted again while in the supposed security of the ICU ward of a hospital. What a jumble of major life dramas to deal with before lunch!

  And Leah—where would they be now if not for her and her intuition? The Jane Doe would have stayed a Jane Doe since Bibb didn’t have a criminal record or any other reason to have fingerprints in the national data base. No one had reported her as a missing person until Leah just felt that something was wrong. And if she hadn’t come in to work to check on her future mother-in-law, Bibb would have been subjected to that truth serum or worse. Someone could have injected any number of chemicals into her IV and killed her right in her hospital bed.

  But God was watching out for the spirited old lady. Billy had no doubt that He inspired Leah to check on the woman in peril. She was alive and still in ICU, but now they had her past medical records and a next of kin to give her moral support. He didn’t know much about the woman other than what he had seen on the news and in the papers. She was outspoken, and didn’t let herself or her company get pushed around, or at least didn’t respond to threats. She had started her business with nothing but a bank loan and a magnetic personality that attracted contracts that normally would have gone to bigger companies. Maybe someone associated with those bigger companies didn’t like that. He’d have to remember to check on that scenario.