Among the Ducklings

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Among the Ducklings Page 2

by Marsh Brooks


  “You got me,” Phil said, also smiling. This is the first medical doctor he ever met that had a sense of humor and he appreciated it.

  “Anyway,” Dr. Gomez continued, interrupting Phil's thoughts, “the bandage on your ankle will remain for two weeks until the stitches are removed. No walking on the ankle is permitted for approximately six weeks. After that, you will use a special boot and brace to help you start walking.”

  “This accident is ruining my life. During this time, can I still eat, drink and sleep?” asked Phil in a dejected tone, wondering how he was going to manage.

  “No, unless you follow our instructions,” Dr. Gomez replied, causing Phil to laugh again and feel stupid about his reaction. Indeed, there were people going through much worse. He should consider himself lucky.

  “I'm sorry,” he apologized.

  “No need. It’s a lot to absorb at once and I understand. By the way, I spoke with Dr. Klein, your primary doctor in Miami, and he has scheduled an appointment for you at Baptist Memorial Hospital in two weeks to remove your stitches.”

  “Thanks. I am looking forward to it,” Phil lied. Phil really hated hospitals.

  “Everything has been arranged. Your physical therapy sessions will take place at the Kendall Rehabilitation Center. It's not too far from your house. Your first appointment with them is in two weeks,” Dr Gomez said. “You will get all the information that you need before you leave the hospital.”

  “Physical therapy sessions? No one told me,” Phil repeated with alarm, dreading the time that he would miss at work.

  “The nurse will fill you in,” Dr. Gomez said. Then she added, “It was nice meeting you Phil. See you in two weeks.”

  “In two weeks?” Phil repeated, in deep thought. “I'm not coming back here Dr. Gomez.”

  Dr. Gomez who was already leaving, turned, winked at Phil and said, “Me neither Phil.” Then she walked out.

  Chapter Two

  It was almost 11:00 pm when Isabel and Richard left the restaurant.

  “It's never dull with Lucy,” Richard said.

  “I've known Lucy since junior college and she is still the same,” Isabel replied. Lucy and Isabel met while in a programming class at Miami Dade Community college. Isabel was one year younger than Lucy and was still in her freshman year, while Lucy was finishing her last semester. Lucy was two inches shorter than Isabel and was very attractive. She was born to African-American parents in a poor rural town in Alabama, and left home when she was sixteen years old to come live with an aunt in Miami. A year after moving in with her aunt, she found herself pregnant and abandoned by her boyfriend, when he learned of Lucy's pregnancy. Lucy and Isabel bonded immediately when they met, as both were young, single and raising small children alone.

  They would babysit, help and watch out for each other. After Lucy graduated from the junior college, she went on to attend Florida International University, where she received a degree in Education. Isabel soon followed and graduated with a degree in Computer Engineering. Several years later, after their graduation, Isabel became Lucy's maid of honor, in Lucy's wedding to Jack, one of Isabel's clients.

  “I’m glad she is doing well, after everything that the two of you have been through,” Richard said. They were headed south on route US1, hoping to take State Road 878 and get off on Kendall Drive. The rain had now turned to a light drizzle.

  “I like the smell of the rain,” Isabel said.

  “The rain doesn't have any smell. What you like is the smell of dirt mixed with rainwater. In my world, we call that mud,” Richard said, teasing Isabel.

  “Don't be smart, Richard. Take me home, I'm a little tired.”

  “At least the street is empty,” Richard said.

  The road was dark and all they could see were red lights blinking in front of them, as they drove through each intersection.

  “I really wished the county would install more lights on this road,” Richard said, squinting his eyes.

  “Try to slow down. The road is very wet,” Isabel warned him.

  “Don't be a backseat driver. You'll be home soon. I promise,” he said. “By the way, are we still having lunch tomorrow?”

  “Yes, at 11:30, after Mass,” Isabel replied. “Rebecca is coming too.”

  “Good. I can't wait. I've not had Latin food in two days,” Richard said, prompting a laugh from Isabel.

  "Between you and me, I am no longer sure who has the Cuban heritage.”

  As the car was approaching Bird Road, it looked as if the car had picked up speed. When the car reached the middle of the Bird Road intersection, Isabel, who was looking above at the blinking lights, turned towards Richard as Richard was describing a new restaurant that he found.

  “I found this great Cuban place in Coconut Grove. It’s not fancy.....”

  It was as if time had gone into a slow motion. On Richard's left side, coming at full speed, was a large vehicle which was about to violently ram their car.

  Isabel could not see the shape of the vehicle, only its largeness and two menacing lights. The lights were round, bright, big and getting bigger as the space between the two vehicles was being devoured by what appeared to Isabel to be a huge truck. It only took a few seconds. But to Isabel, it seemed an eternity.

  She screamed.

  Loud impact.

  Metal against metal.

  In a flash, Richard's Acura flew into a tail spin, violently flipping across the road. The sound of screeching metal and screams could be heard for miles, while flickers of fires popped every time the car hit the pavement during each flip. The scent of gas, burnt rubber and metal permeated the air as the spin finally and slowly stopped, with the car landing upside down, several feet into the eastern side of Bird Road.

  Incredibly, Isabel, who was still restrained by her seat belt, was not feeling any pain. She could feel the blood and its wetness on her blouse. She turned and called Richard's name, but Richard did not respond. She then heard sounds of feet running toward the car as her eyes began to fail her. She managed to call Richard's name one last time, before everything went black.

  ##

  It took Dr. Gomez ten minutes to reach her beachfront condominium unit on Saint Augustine Beach. The distance between the hospital and her condo was about five minutes. However, she was not in a hurry tonight. She felt that this weekend was a lucky weekend for her. She stopped at a gas station adjacent to the only Supermarket in the beach town and bought a lottery ticket. She didn't believe that she would win. But with her good luck today, why take a chance by not buying.

  The condominium development where she lived consisted of ten condominium buildings. Each building was four stories high and had at least fifteen individual units. Dr Gomez's condominium building sat in the back of the development. When she reached her building, the parking lot was almost empty and she knew why. It was Saint Augustine after all, and on Saturday nights, there was always a party to go to, a new drink to try, and a new blind date to meet.

  When she entered her fourth-floor two bedroom condo, the smell of the ocean coming from the screened balcony reminded her of Miami. It was March, and she had left the door to the balcony open before going to work.

  It was also a cool night and she could hear the battle cry of the ocean as its waves invaded the sea shore in its perpetual fight to occupy the dunes.

  She then poured herself a glass of red wine and stepped out onto the balcony. There was no horizon to see. At 10:00 pm, the beach was dark. But far away in the middle of the ocean, she could see a speck of light moving like a lone firefly in the middle of a large and distant field. It could have been a shrimp boat. However, to Dr. Gomez, it was a glimmer of hope, a sign that confirmed that what she was about to do was right. She was on the right path.

  Dr. Gomez knew that she had to break up the relationship between Isabel, her niece, and Richard. Until today, she didn't know how to do it without telling Isabel about what she found out about Richard. All she wanted for Isabel was what she never got fro
m her marriage to her ex-husband: happiness. She knew that her plan had only a very small chance of success. However, that's all she needed. Phil did not know it yet but he was part of the equation.

  Suddenly, the phone rang and she knew it was her friend Grace who lived next door. She always called at this time to make sure Marcia got home safe. She picked up and said, “Hi Grace.”

  “Hi Marcia. How did you know it was me?” Grace asked.

  “Because you call me at this time every night,” Marcia answered.

  “How was your day at the hospital?”

  “Better than it has been in a long time.”

  “Did something happen to make it better?” Grace asked. Grace was a widow, in her early eighties. She was a former bank executive and married well. She was very sharp and liked to sleep during the day and stay awake at night. She was like a vampire without the bite or the sunlight problem.

  “First of all, it was my last day at the hospital today. Second, I met someone that I plan for Isabel to meet. His name is Phil,” she said.

  “What do you know about that guy Phil?” Grace asked.

  “More than he knows that I know,” Marcia replied. “I had an interesting conversation with his friend who filled out his admission application.”

  “You mean, he was a patient in the hospital?” Grace asked, surprised. “I’m not sure about this. Do you know anything about him? Even if Isabel believed your story about Richard...”

  “I don't plan to tell Isabel about Richard,” Marcia interrupted her.

  “If you don't, who will?” Grace asked.

  “I know Isabel. She would not be happy if she knew what I did to find out about the blond woman that Richard was with that night,” Marcia said.

  “OK, but don't go pulling any stunts like you did to your ex,” Grace pleaded. Grace's last statement made Marcia smile. Two months after Peter, her husband, left her for Janet, their neighbor, when she was living in Miami, Marcia met both of them at a store one day. Janet, being rude as usual, came over and asked Marcia if she was well, because she seemed to have gained a lot of weight.

  “I know. Years of AIDS medication do that,” Marcia had replied.

  Weeks later, she heard that they had broken up.

  ##

  What did she really know about Phil? Although she had read his file, everything she knew about Phil's personal life came from his friend Jeremy, who blamed himself for Phil's injury.

  “It was a stupid game,” Jeremy told her when she was asking about the injury. “We both jumped and somehow, I pushed him, causing him to fall the way he did.”

  “Does he have any relatives we could notify?” Marcia had asked.

  “Not really. I am his best friend. He grew up in an orphanage,” Jeremy had answered.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me about Mr. Pierce? Blood type, allergies?” Marcia had asked Jeremy.

  “I don't know Phil's blood type,” Jeremy had answered Marcia, as he began to tell her about Phil. “We met eleven years ago at Florida Atlantic University. When we met, Phil was finishing his PhD in Economics and I was getting my Masters in Accounting. We both then went to law school at the University of Miami. With his background in Law and Economics, he decided to become a trial expert on loss of life issues, and opened his own consulting firm.”

  “Is he married?” Marcia had asked.

  “No,” Jeremy had responded. “He was engaged once but she left him three years ago to pursue a modeling career in California and never came back. Is he going to be OK?”

  “We hope so,” Marcia had answered.

  “Do your best for him. He is the most wonderful person you will ever meet.”

  “We will, and thank you.”

  “No problem,” Jeremy had responded.

  “Marcia, are you there?” Grace asked.

  “Of course I am,” Marcia replied, getting back to the conversation.

  “For one moment, I thought you hung up.”

  “I'm just tired, Grace. I think I'll go to bed.”

  “Good night, Marcia.”

  “Bye.” And they both hung up.

  ##

  When the call came about a vehicle on fire on Bird Road, Bertrand Eveque, the Deputy Chief of the Miami-Dade County Fire Rescue Department, was on a phone call with his second wife, Elise. The first Haitian-American to reach that position, he prided himself on having good instincts and for being able to survive twenty-nine and a half years in the Department, the last years in a position as political as City Hall itself. In his job, he had to wage battle with the City Manager and the Mayor in his drive to secure funding for the Department and bring more minorities like him into the force. As he looked towards his retirement in less than six months, he would leave behind a department that was more professional and diverse than at the time he started in the job right out of college. Now at 52 years old, he was looking toward spending more time with Elise, whom he met at church five years before, and to teachings some classes to supplement his retirement income.

  “Don't forget to stop by the store when you leave work in the morning. We ran out of eggs and I have to prepare a casserole to bring to Sunday school,” Elise was saying. Their church had been losing members for the past two years and the church elders had started a program where the church would feed breakfast to its members during Sunday school to encourage tired parents to come with their kids. Some of the leaders of the church, like Elise and Bertrand, were given certain cooking tasks, which they gladly accepted.

  “Sure, honey. Anything else you need?” He asked.

  “That's it,” she replied.

  “OK, I've got to go. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  As he hung up, the fire trucks were already leaving the Department with eardrum busting sirens. In his position, he no longer had to go to each fire scene anymore. That was what his captains were for. His job duties were more like pushing paperwork, doing fire drill shows for kids, and making speeches at schools and charity events. Some nights, he would decide to drive to the fire scene in his county-issued SUV, another luxury in his position, to ensure that the captain supervising the crew was doing his or her job, and to chase away news reporters who always wanted to be in on the action. When he got into the vehicle that night, the rain had already stopped and it took him less than ten minutes to reach the accident scene.

  When Bertrand arrived, it seemed like all law enforcement and emergency personnel were there, with their lights flashing and illuminating the entire street corner, as if this was a neighborhood Christmas party.

  When she saw him get out, Samantha, his tough-as-nails captain, walked up to him and said: “There was not much fire when we got here. The rain was a big help tonight.” Whatever Samantha missed in looks she made it up in brains. She was the smartest and toughest of all of the captains and sometime Bertrand wondered whether any of the male captains could out bench-press her.

  “What happened?” Bertrand asked.

  “Looks like some kids were drinking and apparently ran a red light and struck this Acura,” Samantha said, pointing to the mangled piece of metal.

  “Is everyone OK?” Bertrand asked.

  “I spoke to the EMS crew. One kid died at the scene after being thrown out of the truck. Looks like he was not wearing his seat belt. They just took a young woman to Baptist Hospital but they don't believe that she will make it. The man driving the Acura had only minor scratches and should be OK.”

  As Samantha described the rescue efforts, Bertrand realized how lucky he was tonight. God had given him a second chance at happiness after his first failed marriage. Tonight a teen and a young woman will never go home. Him, he would not only go home, but he would go home to a place where there was love, a place where there was Elise.

  Chapter Three

  Marcia was already in a deep sleep, when the phone on her night table began ringing. “What now?” she said to herself, scrambling to find the lamp in the dark. By the time she turned on the lam
p and grabbed the phone, she was wide awake.

  “Hello.”

  “Tia Marcia?”

  “Rebecca, is that you? You're OK?” Marcia asked, with a feeling of dread upon hearing Rebecca's loud sobs.

  “It's Isabel. There has been an accident.” Rebecca's last statement caused Marcia to hurl herself out of bed.

  “Is she OK? What happened?”

  “Isabel was in a car crash. She was brought here to Baptist,” Rebecca said, still crying loudly on the phone.

  “Where are you?” Marcia asked.

  “I am in the emergency room, but no one is telling me anything. They said that I had to wait and that she was in surgery,” Rebecca said, weeping.

  “Stay there. I will call you back on your cell,” Marcia firmly said. She then called the hospital, identified herself, and was forwarded to the nurse on duty, whom she knew from her days as an emergency room physician at Jackson Memorial Hospital.

  “It’s really bad, Marcia,” she said. “She is in surgery now. But we're not sure she will make it. We think that she may have a broken back and other internal injuries, but we won't know for sure until after the operation.”

  ##

  Although Rebecca and Isabel were sisters, due to the age difference between them, Marcia always treated Isabel as the daughter she never had, and Rebecca as her granddaughter. During the last stages of cancer of Marcia’s sister, Marcia promised her that she would take care of them and she had. When her sister passed away, having spent her last penny fighting the disease, it was Marcia who, with the help of an attorney friend, arranged that funds be given to Isabel under the pretense that they came from the insurance policy that her sister had left. Had she done otherwise, Isabel might have insisted on a loan or could have refused her offer of help entirely. She didn't stop helping, whether it was in the form of the discreet scholarship that paid for Isabel's college tuition, or the private loan that helped Isabel start her own IT consulting firm.

  Marcia knew that she would do anything for her two nieces, and would even give her life for them if that was what it took. It was why, prior to calling Rebecca back to tell her that she was on her way to Miami tonight, she had one thing she needed to do. It was one thing that Marcia had not done in a long time. She needed to kneel and pray.

 

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