Iris Avenue

by Pamela Grandstaff

  “Can Tommy stand here with you for a minute?” Ed asked and Scott nodded.

  Only Tommy’s wide eyes could be seen beneath the enormous rain poncho Ed had made him wear. Scott had to suppress the impulse to hold his hand as if he was a small child.

  “We won’t let anything happen to him,” Scott said.

  Ed walked down Pine Mountain Road to take some photographs.

  “It’s still too dark for them to be any good,” Ed said after he walked back.

  Mayor Stuart Machalvie came strolling down the street holding a big black umbrella, smiling and greeting everyone on his way. When he got to Scott and Malcolm, he greeted them, shook their hands and then looked suitably serious and concerned while Ed took a few photographs.

  Afterward Stuart said quietly, “The governor has declared this a state of emergency. If we’re lucky both dams will break, and then we’ll get enough state and federal money to build a hydroelectric dam.”

  The mayor went on down the street, shaking hands and making reassuring noises, and Malcolm shook his head.

  “Count on Stuart to already be figuring out how the town can make money off a tragedy,” Malcolm said.

  Within the hour Malcolm received a radio transmission that one of the dams had been breeched. Through a bullhorn he ordered everyone to move up two blocks. Pendleton firefighters arrived and joined in the effort to evacuate the homes on both Marigold and Iris Avenues.

  Scott left them and his deputies in charge of the scene and went back to the station to call the county sheriff’s office. He heard the phone ringing as he closed the door behind him. It was county sheriff’s investigator Sarah Albright.

  After a brief conversation Scott hung up the phone, hurried back out of the station, then jogged across the street and down the block to the Fitzpatrick family’s service station. Patrick was inside, telling his father and Uncle Curtis about the dam failing. Fitz was propped up in his wheelchair, sipping coffee that Scott assumed was spiked with a fortifying ingredient. Banjo the beagle was curled up in the corner, sleeping.

  “I remember the flood of 1952,” Fitz said. “The water came all the way up to Rose Hill Avenue.”

  “We were lucky that time,” Curtis said. “It was a slow rise and not a flash flood; we had time to prepare. If both dams break, Cal may be fishing bodies out of the river.”

  Scott asked Patrick to come outside with him for a moment.

  “What’s up?” Patrick said when they got outside. He crossed his arms and stuck his hands under his armpits to keep them warm.

  “They found Brian; he’s been in a car accident and he’s in pretty bad shape. They’re taking him to the hospital in Pendleton but they’re not sure he’ll make it.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Patrick said, and looked out over Scott’s shoulder. “Damn it to hell.”

  “I’ll be glad to take your mom to the hospital in the cruiser. It would be faster.”

  “Thanks, Scott,” Patrick said. “You go get the car and meet me at the bakery.”

  Patrick went back inside. By the time Scott got the patrol car and arrived at the bakery Bonnie was standing outside in her coat and scarf with Sean holding an umbrella open above her. Scott thought she looked as if she’d aged ten years since he saw her last. Sean, Patrick, and Bonnie got in the backseat of the car, and Scott asked, “What about Maggie?”

  The words had just left his lips as Maggie rounded the corner and came running down the middle of Pine Mountain Road, her raincoat and long red curls flying out behind her. She got in the passenger side of the patrol car, her ringlets dripping with rain. She turned around to look at her brothers and mother.

  “What about Dad?” she asked.

  “He’s going to stay with Curtis at the station,” Sean said.

  Scott turned on the flashing lights.

  “Wait!” Maggie said. “What about Ava?”

  “She’s already there,” Scott said. “Agent Brown took her.”

  Maggie looked back to gauge the reaction to this information. Sean looked grim, Patrick looked angry, and Bonnie’s crumpled, tear-streaked face broke Maggie’s heart.

  It normally took a half hour to get to Pendleton, but they were there in twenty minutes thanks to the flashing lights and police siren. Scott let them out at the emergency room entrance and told Maggie, “I’ll park and be back in a minute.”

  The staff on duty would not let Bonnie go back to where Brian was. She was forced to sit with her sons in the waiting room, where she cried into Sean’s shoulder. Maggie paced outside the entrance until Scott came back.

  “What happened?” she demanded. “They won’t let Mom go back.”

  “All I know is that he was driving your car in the State Park, went off the road into a ravine, and was thrown from the car. A hiker witnessed the accident and called the park ranger, who called the county sheriff’s office, and Sarah went out there. They had to use climbing equipment to get him out, and at one point on the way here in the ambulance he had no pulse. The park ranger said the hiker saw two vehicles driving pretty fast, one was your bug, one was an SUV in pursuit, but the SUV seems to have disappeared.”

  “Why was he out at the State Park? I figured he’d be in Mexico by now.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Maggie and Scott entered the emergency waiting room just as Agent Jamie Brown came through the swinging doors from the nether regions of the department, following a woman dressed in a white medical coat who had a stethoscope hanging around her neck. Jamie glanced at Scott and nodded, but followed the woman. Maggie and Scott followed him. They all stopped in front of Bonnie.

  The woman in white crouched down so that she was right in front of Bonnie, who was still seated. She put a hand on Bonnie’s arm. There was real compassion in her face.

  “Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” the woman said. “I’m Dr. Balaji. Your son Brian has sustained serious injuries, both external and internal. He has multiple fractures and internal bleeding. He had a cardiac event on the way here, and although they resuscitated him, we’ve had to put him on a ventilator. Ordinarily we would take him right into surgery, but he is completely non-responsive, and our monitor indicates there is no brain activity.”

  “What does that mean?” Bonnie asked. She had to clear her throat to speak, and tears continued to fall as she did so.

  Dr. Balaji gripped Bonnie’s hand, looked her straight in the eye, and spoke quietly.

  “He’s gone,” she said. “We’re keeping his body alive with our machines, but he has, for all intents and purposes, already passed away. Does your son have an advance directive that you know of, or anything that would indicate his wishes in a situation like this?”

  Bonnie’s face crumpled and she started sobbing so heavily that she could not answer. The doctor stood up and looked at Patrick and then Sean.

  “Are you family members?” she asked.

  “I’m Brian’s brother and an attorney,” Sean said. “If there’s a living will we have no knowledge of it. I thought in these cases that the spouse…”

  “Yes,” Dr. Balaji said. “His wife is here, and she is the one who is legally obligated to make that decision. I just need to make absolutely sure first that there is no written record of his wishes before we remove him from life support.”

  This got Bonnie’s attention.

  “Don’t unplug him!” she cried. “Sean, stop them!”

  “No one’s going to do anything before you have a chance to see him,” Dr. Balaji reassured her. “We’re moving him to a quiet place where you can spend some time with him. The social worker will come down here to meet you and I suggest you ask her to call Hospice. They are very good help at times like these. As soon as he is moved, we will come get you. I understand from Ava that you’ll want to have your priest here as well.”

  “No!” Bonnie wailed. “Don’t let them do it!”

  Dr. Balaji told the assembled, “No one is going to do anything right this minute. You should take a little time and process everything
I’ve just told you. If you have any questions I’ll be glad to answer them now or later. Do you want the chaplain to come?”

  Sean said that would be good, yes, and he and Patrick attempted to console Bonnie, who was beside herself with grief. Maggie had been clutching Scott’s arm, and as soon as she realized it she let go.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked her.

  “Go get Father Stephen,” she said.

  He left running, and shortly thereafter Maggie could hear the siren as he left the hospital parking lot. Maggie looked over at Jamie, who was sitting a few seats away from the family, staring at his hands in his lap. He looked up at Maggie and she was surprised at how grieved he looked.

  He was shaking his head as he mouthed, “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she told her family, and walked outside.

  The sky was dark with heavy clouds, and although the wind was still cold Maggie thought she could smell a hint of spring coming. There were circles of dirt carved out of the landscaping at intervals, with spindly little Bradford Pear trees planted in each one. Although the trees were bare, around the base of each she could see the green tips of some sprouted flower bulbs peeking out of the mud, like tiny green tongues.

  She took out her cell phone to call Hannah, but as she punched in the speed dial number she caught sight of Sam’s van flying through the entrance to the hospital parking lot. He zoomed up the emergency driveway and screeched to a halt right in front of her. Maggie, who hadn’t yet cried, burst into tears as soon as she saw Hannah.

  Maggie, Hannah, and Sam went to the hospital cafeteria and got some coffee. Maggie told Hannah all she knew about what had happened to Brian, and Sam showed her his futuristic looking leg prosthesis. Maggie felt better and calmer just having them both with her. Hannah was obviously happy to have Sam home, and Sam kept touching and smiling at Hannah. For an undemonstrative man like Sam, Maggie thought that was an amazing testament to how good he was feeling about his marriage.

  When they returned to the E.R. waiting room, Maggie could hear her mother screaming in the nether regions of the department. She and Hannah followed a nurse back to Brian’s room, where they met Patrick and Sean practically carrying Bonnie out of it. She was wild eyed, gasping and wailing, and looked like she might faint.

  “Ava’s going to kill him,” she cried when she saw Maggie. “She’s going to kill my boy!”

  The nurse told Maggie she was going to see about getting their mother a sedative, and gestured to Patrick and Sean that they should follow her.

  Inside Brian’s room, Maggie and Hannah found Ava with a nurse from the local Hospice. Also present was Father Stephen, who always seemed able to remain calm in the face of any drama, but was now looking a little shell shocked. He hugged Maggie and Hannah, told them he would be outside if they needed him, and stepped outside the room. The Hospice nurse didn’t seem at all phased by the drama, and she gave Ava’s hand a reassuring squeeze before she too left the room.

  Ava was sitting in a chair next to a beeping machine at the head of Brian’s bed, looking pale and small. Maggie knew she should hug her sister-in-law, say some kind words, or reassure her somehow, but found she couldn’t do any of that. Hannah stayed back by the door as Maggie went up to the head of the bed and looked at Brian. His face was swollen, and Maggie had to search for some point of recognition. His shaved head and face could have been that of anyone.

  ‘Maybe,’ she thought, ‘it’s all been a big mistake. Maybe this is not Brian.’

  Then she recognized the pale red-gold eyelashes and eyebrows, just like her own, and although his hands and arms were battered and bruised, there was no mistaking the long index finger on each hand, longer than his middle finger. Maggie touched each of her own index fingers with her thumbs; she’d also inherited this trait from Grandpa Tim.

  She thought about Brian’s quick, cruel temper; his ability to lie so convincingly while looking you straight in the eye; his withering contempt for anyone he was able to take advantage of; and his arrogant, selfish sense of entitlement. This is where it had led him. Maggie felt pity for him, and sympathy for the mother and father they shared, but she couldn’t honestly say she loved her brother.

  Tubes and IV lines were inserted in several places. The beeping of the machine next to Ava demonstrated that the heart still beat in his chest. The respirator attached to his face breathed in and out for him, so his chest rose and fell with each breath. He didn’t look like someone who was sleeping, which was what she’d expected. He looked like a life-like human puppet, being made to look animated by some trick. She recognized the container but the contents were missing.

  She looked up at Ava and met her sister-in-law’s frightened gaze.

  “He’s already gone, Ava,” Maggie said. “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “Thank you,” Ava said, and a perfect fat tear slid out of one of her pretty brown eyes and down her pale cheek.

  “Do you want me to stay?” Maggie asked. “When they do it?”

  “No,” Ava told her. “Father Stephen will be here.”

  “Call me if you need me,” Maggie said.

  “Thank you,” Ava said.

  Maggie and Hannah left the room.

  At 11:13 a.m. Timothy Brian Fitzpatrick was officially pronounced dead.

  Grandpa Tim’s funeral was postponed until the next day. Bonnie spent the afternoon and evening heavily sedated in her bed, thanks to Doc Machalvie. Doc was feeling no pain, either, sitting in the front room with Fitz and Sal Delvecchio, drinking shot after shot.

  The Hospice bereavement counselor came by and offered to help in any way she could. Fitz asked if she could play the fiddle and she replied that although she could not play the fiddle, she could play the trombone, and she would be glad to fetch it if that would help. Fitz invited her to join them all in a shot of whiskey but she declined, and said she would come back the next day. Patrick sat at the piano and played every song his father requested until the old man finally passed out. Meanwhile townspeople came and went.

  Maggie and Hannah sat in the kitchen with Sean and accepted more food and condolences. These newer well wishers had the scent of gossip collectors about them, and Maggie was curt with a few of them.

  “Vultures,” she sniped after one of them left. “Here’s your pierogies, what’s the latest?”

  “They’re not bad people,” Hannah said. “They mean well.”

  “Why do people bring food at a time you least want to eat?” asked Sean, who was trying to find room in the fridge for this latest offering.

  Their Aunt Delia came in through the back door.

  “Have you seen the river?” she asked Maggie.

  It was so pointedly asked to Maggie and no one else that Sean and Hannah exchanged looks. They stayed put while Maggie followed Delia out onto the back porch to look at the flood waters covering Lotus Avenue. The river had stopped rising, and residents of Marigold Avenue had been allowed to return to their homes now that the danger was thought to have passed. Maggie watched as tree limbs and trash sailed by and crashed into the wall surrounding Eldridge College.

  “It’s nerve-wracking,” Maggie said. “Everything feels so out of control.”

  “I only have a minute and then I need to get back to Ava’s,” Delia said. “What’s going on with you and Gabriel?”

  “I saw him last night,” Maggie said. “He’s going back to Florida with his wife and son after the trial.”

  “It may be months before that trial begins,” Delia said. “They’re going to be around for awhile.”

  Maggie shrugged.

  “I don’t mean to pry,” Delia said. “I’m just worried about you.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it,” Maggie said. “I’m just numb at this point.”

  “I think he feels obligated to his wife, but I don’t think she means to him what you do.”

  “Well, how nice for her. She gets her jailbird back but he doesn’t love her. Another relationshi
p based on a lie.”

  “If she didn’t want him, would you take him back?”

  “I still have strong feelings, but they’re for the man I thought he was,” Maggie said. “If I’d known he was married and an ex-con when I met him I never would have gone out with him.”

  “And Scott? Do you think you can forgive him for what he did?”

  “I know Scott had good intentions,” Maggie said. “But he lied to me, too. I hate being lied to for my own good. Funny how it turns out it was actually for their own good and not mine. There was actually nothing ‘good’ in it for me. I didn’t need these men to make my decisions for me. How insulting. How condescending. How patronizing.”

  “I agree it was a bad decision on Scott’s part,” Delia said. “He made a mistake and he’s paying for it, but is he condemned for life?”

  “I cannot imagine a scenario where what he did was okay.”

  “I agree. But can you imagine a scenario where you both agree that what he did was wrong, stupid, and unacceptable, but you can put it behind you?”

  Maggie didn’t answer.

  “We don’t get endless opportunities to be loved,” Delia said. “I know young people like to believe that they do, but don’t you kid yourself. Don’t ruin the rest of your life just because you’re angry right now.”

  “So, I’m going to be alone and miserable if I don’t snap up the only available man who wants me, is that it?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility,” Delia said. “You hold your future in your own hands right now, but not for much longer.”

  “Hannah thinks Ava is going to seduce Scott. Do you?”

  “It’s entirely possible,” Delia said. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but it wouldn’t be hard for her to do.”

  “Maybe he’d be happier,” she said.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Delia said. “When has Ava Fitzpatrick ever made a man happy?”

  “I’ve never heard you talk about Ava like that before. What’s happened?”

  “I can’t tell you,” Delia said. “Just take my word for it, Scott would not be happy mixed up with Ava, and it’s up to you to put a stop to it while you still can.”