A Special Man

by Billie Green

  No! I couldn't, she argued. It was wrong, legally and ethically wrong. But no matter how many times she said no, the thought persisted. And what of morality? the voice inside her asked. Shouldn't moral rights at times take precedence over legal and ethical rights?

  Amanda couldn't say when she finally made the decision to take Danny away. It could have come as she watched him from day to day, feeling helpless to stop what was happening to him, for he had become an obsession, claiming all her thoughts, all her emotions. Or it could have come in the middle of one of her endless nights.

  At first, she merely began asking questions about his care, then somehow she knew it wasn't only curiosity that prompted the questions. She was really going to do it.

  It was two weeks later, as she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, that she began to make definite plans. Greenleigh had always seemed a glamorous hideaway to Amanda. But suddenly it felt like a prison. The high walls that before had symbolized security and privacy now seemed ominous obstructions to their freedom. She could no longer regard Tom Dicks as a male nurse or a valet; as far as she was concerned he was a guard. Every entrance was watched, surreptitiously, by one of the men inside Greenleigh. Scads of gardeners moved around the grounds; surely no place needed so many gardeners.

  The stone wall, the iron gate, the guards—why had she never seen the prison fixtures before? Through a casual conversation with Ginny, Amanda knew that it wasn't possible to take Danny for an outing away from Greenleigh. She would have to find a way around the security.

  She rolled restlessly on the bed. Even if she managed to get him out, once they were away, then what? Where would they go? What would they do? What if the authorities found them and took Danny away from her?

  She opened her eyes in the dark. She would simply have to marry him.

  The idea rippled through her, shocking her, but she shoved aside the automatic reaction. If she was to have legal charge of him, it was necessary that they marry. They could go to Las Vegas; no one would even notice them there. Then to the mountains—to the cabin her parents had given her two years ago when they had moved to Ireland. She and Danny would be safe there, she told herself. And most important, Danny would be free.

  Suddenly she caught her breath sharply. The medication! How could she have forgotten it? It was the most important thing. Danny's life depended on that drug.

  It had all been for nothing, she told herself in despair. She felt all her plans slide away from her. Tears rolled helplessly down her cheeks as she clenched her fists and pounded the bed beside her.

  "No!" she said aloud. She wouldn't accept defeat so easily. She couldn't. She had to find a way. She couldn't let Danny down. She would—

  Suddenly, she lay perfectly still. She would simply steal the drug.

  The idea came so easily, as though she made a habit of stealing. She almost laughed aloud. Amanda didn't even know herself anymore. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except Danny.

  She would steal enough of the drug to last three months. Then she would come back for more. By that time there would be no doubt about the validity of their marriage.

  But first, she thought, sliding down in the bed and hugging a pillow to her, she would have to learn how to give him his injections. Everything had to be exactly right before she made a move.

  For days, in the privacy of her room, she practiced giving injections to an orange. She had given shots before to her diabetic cousin, but that had been years ago. She couldn't take any chances with Danny. They would be alone, and his life would depend on her.

  "I tell you, Amanda, it's unbelievable. She looks me straight in the eye and then starts running her hands down his arm. And Paul," Ginny said in disgust. "Why doesn't he stop her? He just sits there like he's afraid to say anything."

  Amanda glanced at Ginny as they walked down the hall together. "Some people are naturally shy of making scenes, Ginny. Besides, Leah is so sneaky about it; Paul would feel silly telling her to take her hands off him."

  "Well, I wouldn't feel silly." She sighed, stopping in front of Danny's door. "What makes me furious is that we were beginning to talk again. I was beginning to think things might work out this time."

  She reached out for the doorknob, then pulled back, holding out her hands. "Would you look at them," she said, staring at her trembling hands. "Why do I let her make me so furious? How am I going to give Danny his injection?"

  Amanda felt her knees give way slightly. It was the chance she had been waiting for. Please, she begged silently, don't let me mess it up.

  "Why don't you let me give it to him?" she said, her voice carefully casual.

  Ginny glanced at her in surprise. "You? Have you done this before?"

  "Hundreds of times," Amanda assured her, mentally crossing her fingers. "I have a diabetic cousin," she said, adding truth to strengthen the lie. "This is not all that different, is it?"

  "No," Ginny said hesitantly. "They're both given in the muscle rather than the vein." Suddenly she shrugged. "Why not? You couldn't do any worse than I would with these hands, and Danny trusts you."

  Yes, Danny trusted her. She just hoped that she deserved his trust.

  When they entered the room, Danny was sitting on the bed. He wasn't doing anything; he was just sitting. When she saw the unreasonable joy that came into his eyes when he saw her, anger at his neglect gave her strength.

  Under Ginny's supervision, she drew out the correct dosage, willing her hands to be steady. Then under Danny's trusting eyes, she administered the injection to his arm.

  "That was perfect," Ginny said, unaware that she had just given Amanda and Danny their signal to freedom.

  It was a week later, when she had made all her plans, when she had already asked for an emergency leave of absence to tend a sick aunt, that she first spoke to Danny.

  She had put it off as long as she could, wondering how to phrase it, wondering how to convey the importance of silence to him. When they reached their spot by the stream, she said hesitantly, "Danny, how would you like it if the two of us left Greenleigh?"

  His head jerked toward her, his eyes alert as he stared at her. "Leave here?" he asked, "like John J. Pike? Go somewhere, just the two of us and live together.... without Tom Dicks?"

  "Yes."

  He closed his eyes tightly and inhaled a deep, slow breath. Then he opened them again and she could see the hopelessness there. "They wouldn't let us," he said, his voice tired. "I've tried to leave before, but they always stop me."

  No one had told her he had tried to leave. But then no one would. Greenleigh must never seem less than wonderful. No wonder he was watched so carefully.

  "I have a plan, Danny. No one would know but us. We would have to sneak away. Would you mind sneaking out?"

  "I wouldn't mind anything if we can go someplace together." He stared up at the sky. "If we were away from everyone... if no one knew us, it wouldn't matter that we're different."

  Please, let him be right, she begged silently.

  Chapter Eight

  Everyone knew Tom Dicks visited Leah at ten-thirty every night. "You can set your watch by it," they would say, sometimes in annoyance, sometimes with a suggestive grin. At ten he made sure his charge got dressed for bed, then he turned out Danny's light and sat in his own room thumbing through a girlie magazine until ten twenty-five. At ten-thirty he entered Leah's room without knocking. At exactly eleven twenty-five he left Leah's room, crossed to Danny's wing, opened the door of the darkened room to make sure Danny was still in bed. And at midnight every night Tom Dicks went to bed.

  On this particular night, as Amanda sat in the darkness of her bedroom with two suitcases beside her on the floor—one an empty nylon carryall stuffed with newspaper—she was extremely grateful for the fact that Tom Dicks was a creature of habit.

  Every second that passed seemed like an hour. It had all gone too smoothly; something had to happen. She had been so busy taking care of all the details, she hadn't had time until now to be af
raid. But now she was very definitely afraid.

  Confront the dragon, she told herself as she shifted restlessly on the hard chair. Mentally she ticked off all the things she had done in preparation. She knew exactly where each guard was posted, inside and out. Just minutes before, she had placed the call that gave her the excuse to leave tonight. Oates had been there when she made the call. She was very sympathetic when Amanda told her that Aunt Eddie had taken a turn for the worse. The housekeeper had agreed that Amanda would have to leave tonight.

  Amanda stood and began to pace. The waiting was the worst. A thousand unoccupied seconds in which doubts could grow. She couldn't allow it. She had come too far, and her goal was too important.

  "Think," she said aloud. Had she taken care of everything? Ralph had already brought her car around. It was waiting at the front door. And the key to the drug room—

  She caught her breath, searching frantically in her pocket for the key. At last it slid into her fingers and she clutched it tightly, going weak with relief. Oates wouldn't notice it was missing for days. She kept it only because she held all the keys.

  Amanda glanced at her watch. Ten forty-five. The nurse on duty would be starting her rounds now. It was finally time. Picking up her bags, she walked to the door, shifting them as she opened the door.. .to find Ginny, her hand raised to knock.

  "Amanda—" she began, then glanced at the suitcases. "What are you doing? I thought you weren't leaving until tomorrow."

  Amanda felt her hands tremble and clutched the handles of the bags tighter. She could feel the key to the drug room biting into her palm.

  "I was," she said. "But when I called the hospital tonight to check on Aunt Eddie, they said she had had another spell, a bad one. So—well, I wouldn't feel right if I didn't try to get there tonight."

  When had she gotten so adept at lying? she wondered as she allowed herself to glance at Ginny's face. There was not a hint of suspicion there. But why would there be? No one in their right mind would think of doing what Amanda was doing.

  "I'm so sorry," Ginny said in genuine sympathy. "Here, let me carry one of your bags." She reached out for the empty carryall.

  "No!" When Ginny gave her a quizzical look, Amanda said, "Don't bother, Ginny. I'm not going straight to the car. I promised Danny I would stop by to see him before I leave."

  "Well... okay, but I wouldn't mind waiting."

  "That's too much trouble. The bags aren't heavy." At least, one wasn't, she amended silently. Then she frowned. "Why did you come to my room? Did you need something?"

  The nurse shook her head. "No, I was just restless. I thought maybe we could play cards or something."

  "I would have liked that," Amanda said. "But as you see, I don't have time."

  "I guess now is when I start that nine-pound Michener novel," Ginny said, turning away. "Drive carefully. And don't stay too long."

  Amanda stood watching her walk away. "Ginny," she said hesitantly. When the nurse paused to glance back, Amanda swallowed heavily and said, "Thanks."

  Ginny smiled. "For what?"

  "I don't know... I guess for being a real friend."

  Ginny nodded, then walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  It was only when the fact that she had actually gotten through the first unexpected hazard sank in that Amanda began to shake. Lowering one suitcase to the floor, she pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back hysteria. "It will be all right," she whispered. "It'll be fine."

  Drawing in a deep, bracing breath, she picked up the suitcase and walked down the hall.

  There were two nurses' stations in Greenleigh, one in A-North for the old-timers and one in B-North— Danny's wing. Anyone entering or leaving either wing had to pass an open station, and at the back of each station was a small drug room.

  As Amanda reached the top of the staircase that led to B-North, she spared a prayer of thanks that Ginny was not working tonight. Responsibility for the theft of the drug would fall on the nurse on duty. Not that that would have stopped Amanda. She had developed a hardness where Danny was concerned. Nothing was as important as making the rest of his life happy.

  Keep-that thought, she told herself. Keep thinking about what it's all about. Keep—

  She stopped abruptly, feeling her knees buckle. There was a nurse behind the white counter. She can't be here, Amanda thought frantically. She simply couldn't be there.

  But she was. It was Diana, the tall redhead who had informed Ginny of Mrs. Baxter's striptease that first day. Now Diana was staring at her inquisitively.

  "Amanda," she said in surprise. "What are you doing up here?"

  Stay calm. Drawing in a deep breath, she walked forward. "I have to leave tonight instead of tomorrow," she said. "I promised Danny I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye."

  The nurse looked doubtful. "He's probably already asleep."

  "Couldn't I just peek in?" Amanda asked. "I wouldn't disturb him. If he's already asleep, I'll just call him tomorrow from Los Angeles."

  "Well... yes, I guess that would be all right."

  "Thanks, Diana." She placed her bags in front of the counter. "Should I check with you when I leave?" she asked hesitantly.

  Diana shook her head. "I'll be making my rounds in a second. I'll probably catch up with you."

  Not if lean help it, Amanda thought as she walked away. The hall seemed a mile long, and as she reached Danny's room, she paused a get a grip on herself. Then she turned the handle and went in.

  The room was dark. She moved inside, then stopped when she saw the shape in the bed. He couldn't have forgotten.

  "Danny?" she said softly.

  "Mandy." The voice came from directly behind her, and she almost fainted.

  "Oh, Danny, you scared ten years off me," she whispered, relief making her weak. "What did you do to the bed?"

  "I put pillows under the cover so Tom Dicks will think it's me."

  "That's wonderful," she said, hugging him. "You make a perfect spy.''

  It was perfect. When Tom stopped by to check on his patient, he would think Danny was still in bed.

  Danny held up a small leather bag. "I'm ready."

  She pushed her hair back with a trembling hand. "We still have to get your medication," she murmured, more to herself than to Danny. "I thought she would be gone already. I wanted to have it all done by the time I came for you."

  "I'll help you. It will be easier if I help."

  She smiled. "Sure it will." She-inhaled deeply. "Okay, here goes."

  Walking to the door, she opened it and peeked out. No one was in the hall. Had the nurse already begun her rounds? At that moment, Diana stepped into the hall and closed a door behind her.

  Amanda ducked back into Danny's room, holding her breath. She counted to ten, then opening the door a crack, she saw Diana enter the next room. She reached back and grabbed Danny's hand. "It's time," she whispered.

  Together, they ran the length of the hall. When they reached the nurses' station, she grabbed the empty carryall, and the two of them moved around the counter to the door at the back of the small cubicle.

  She still had the key in her hand, but now it was slick with her perspiration. She fumbled trying to insert it into the lock. It wouldn't go in. She couldn't make it go in.

  "Let me," he said, taking the key from her.

  His face was calm as he inserted it without a problem. It was then that Amanda finally realized they were in this thing together. It was as important to Danny as it was to her. Seconds later the door swung open.

  The drug room was merely an outsize closet, but wooden shelves covered every available inch. Amanda quickly studied the labels on the shelves until she came to the one she was looking for.

  Dumping the newspaper out of the nylon bag, she placed the bag on the floor and began to grab the boxes she knew contained vials of Danny's medication. In her haste, she brushed against a row of tall bottles, and the noise sounded thunderous in the small room.

  "Shhh," Da
nny said behind her.

  Amanda stifled a hysterical laugh. Somehow she felt she had been demoted to assistant. Over her shoulder she whispered, "We need two boxes of disposable syringes. I think they're on the shelf over there."

  Danny opened several boxes before he found the right one, and by the time he had placed the syringes in the bag, Amanda had finished her own task. She didn't even try to lock the door as they left; Danny took care of, it.

  Once more she checked to make sure the hall was clear, then grabbed the large suitcase from in front of the counter, and walking side by side, they moved silently around the corner to the staircase.

  They were going to make it, she kept telling herself. They were really going to make it.

  The lounge, empty of guests, seemed enormous as she pushed open the door leading into it. It was like standing on a mountain, surveying a vast desert. There was no help for it; it had to be crossed.

  They were so vulnerable here, she thought, so exposed. With every step she was sure someone would walk in and stop them. The deep carpeting muffled their steps, but to her own ears, even her breathing sounded loud.

  They skirted the edge silently, knowing the guard could appear at any moment, knowing that he would spot them at once if he did.

  They were only yards away from the front door when Amanda heard the footsteps. At first she thought it was the pounding of her own heart, but her heartbeat had never echoed.

  She froze at the same moment she felt Danny grip her arm in warning. It was long seconds before she realized the footsteps weren't coming from the lounge, but from a carpet less hall or room nearby.

  Silently motioning Danny to stand against the wall behind a tall Boule cabinet, she took the suitcase from him and waited for the guard to appear.

  A door to the side of the room opened and a guard walked in. "Randy," she said, her voice sounding unnaturally loud. "I wondered where you were."

  "Did you need something, Miss Timbers?"

  "Yes...yes, I did," she said, laughing breathlessly. "I have to leave earlier than planned." She nodded toward the bags in her hands. "But I found...Mrs. Baxter—" her voice was positively cheerful as she hit on a name "—on the employees' staircase. She refused to go back to her room, Randy, and I simply don't have the time to persuade her."