by Jack L Knapp
“T, I’m not wanted by the authorities.”
“Neither is Ray, and for that matter maybe I’m not either. I don’t know any more. I wanted to clear a blot on my name, but the government claimed they had no record of me. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised to find the agency that I once worked for has a file, and we’ve had other government agencies snooping into our affairs since then. They’d love to find out about the things we can do.
“I don’t want any part of it; I’ve worked for the government and they’re just people. They’re not to be trusted, because they’re looking out for their own best interests, not ours. A lot are ambitious, and if using you can further their career, you’ll wind up stuck somewhere doing something you don’t want to do. I won’t let that happen to me. There’s a big world out there and it’s easy to get lost if you’ve got psionic abilities and money.”
#
Shorty sat up in bed. The indigestion had worsened suddenly; the pain in his upper body was now accompanied by numbness extending down his left arm. Alarmed, Shorty wondered if this might be heart trouble of some kind.
Shorty waited, but got no response. This wasn’t really a surprise, his ability was spotty at best. Maybe, if he tried Mr. Ray...?
There was no answer.
Well. This wasn’t the first time Shorty had found himself alone. It was time to do what he’d always done, take care of himself. Shorty dressed carefully and walked out the front door. Max’s Cafe wasn’t far, and even if the cafe was closed, Max would be somewhere around. He could call Doc Shezzie.
#
T drifted to a landing. Shezzie had her go-bag open and was holding her stethoscope on Shorty’s chest.
“Howdy, Mister T. I tried to call you but it didn’t work. How’d you get here so fast?”
“Libby heard you, Shorty. She called both of us. How are you feeling?”
“Wal, I’m a little short of breath. Got pain in my chest too. Figured I’d go over and let Max call one of you.”
“Didn’t you have your cell phone, Shorty?”
“Wal, I hadn’t used it for a while. I looked, but the battery wuz dead.”
T lifted off, arrowing straight up while watching the screen. He picked up a signal about a thousand feet up and punched the numbers.
“Nine one one, what is your emergency?”
“Possible heart attack, the doctor is with the patient. Location is Little Dry Creek. Doctor Schmidt made the decision to call you.”
“Wait one.” There was a short pause. “Paramedics have been notified. I’ll pass your phone number on, you’ll be hearing from them shortly.”
“Thank you.” T broke the connection and decided to remain where he was. If they called back, he’d need to be where he could receive the call.
#
T landed near Max. Shezzie had already flown; by now she’d have the oxygen equipment waiting and a gurney ready for Shorty.
“Chopper’s on the way, Max. Give me a hand, we’ll lift Shorty to the clinic.”
“Fireman’s carry, T?”
“Something like that, Max. We’ll link arms, I’ll lift Shorty using PK and set him in the cradle, and together we’ll levitate him to the clinic. Shorty, you don’t do anything; just relax, we’ll carry you.”
“Okay, Mister T. I plumb appreciate it. I’m feeling a tad better now, even if my heart’s thumping like a bass drum!”
“That’s the nitro, Shorty. Just relax, we’re on our way.”
T and Max landed softly by the clinic door. Ana Maria had the gurney waiting and the oxygen tank and cannula ready. The two men laid Shorty carefully on the gurney and arranged the blanket over him, then fastened the straps in place. Ray drifted in and joined the others.
Headstrong child! T filled Ray in on his plan; the two would follow the helicopter, then drop back as soon as it began landing.
“Libby’s been listening to everything we say, at least everything we comm. She heard us talking about teleporting too. She’s a handful already, no telling what she’ll be like when she’s grown!”
“She seems pretty mature, T. She’s had some bad experiences and she’s handling them all right. The kidnapping, flaming that guy, and before that she had to deal with her parents separating and being stuck out at the end of nowhere with Shorty. She’s doing quite well, I’d say.”
“Yeah, but she’s still a kid, and headstrong. She’s not nearly as cautious as she should be.”
“We can work on that, T. We’ve got time.”
“I sure hope so, Ray.”
Chapter Five
“Shorty, you’ve got a partially blocked coronary artery. No open-heart surgery for you, the cardiologist will perform an angioplasty and then you’ll be good for another ninety-two years!”
“Doc Shezzie, if I get through the next ninety-two minutes I’ll be satisfied! Did you look at that form they asked me to sign?”
“The permission form, Shorty? The one that allows them to treat you?”
“Wal, I reckon that was it. Plumb got my attention.”
“How’s that, Shorty?”
“That doctor fellow said I should be aware of some possible side effects. He mentioned another heart attack and death. I reckon he meant that it could happen while I wuz layin’ there with a tube stuck in my leg.”
“That rarely happens, Shorty, but doctors have to mention it. You can’t make an informed judgment unless you know everything that the medical team intends to do.”
“I reckon. You gonna be there, Doc Shezzie?”
“Not unless it would make you feel better, Shorty. The cardiologist has done this before, several hundred times in fact, and he’s got a team he works with. They really don’t need me; I’d just be in the way.”
“Wal, if you say so, Doc. He said they’d be ready in an hour or so. Gonna put that introducer thing in my leg, then run a tube up my artery. He showed me a model, that thing must be three feet long!”
“They’ll use more than one, Shorty. One is for injecting the dye so they can see what’s happening in the arteries around your heart. If there’s a blockage, it will show up on the X-rays.
“Anyway, they’re here, Shorty; they’ll take you to the catheterization lab, and I’ll be waiting when you get back. I’ll keep T and Ray informed too.”
“Thanks, Doc. I’ll see you when they’re done pokin’ and proddin’.”
Two attendants rolled Shorty down the hallway, still connected to a variety of wires and tubes. A large elevator waited and they wheeled the bed inside.
“Doing okay, sir?”
“Shore am. This bed’s right comfy. Makes me realize I ought to buy a new mattress when I get home!”
The two attendants chuckled; patients often joked on their way to the cath lab. It was a way to reduce the tension. The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The attendants pushed the bed down the hall, then turned right. Automatic doors whooshed behind them.
“Still with us, Shorty?”
“Shore am, Doc. My chest still hurts some too.”
“I’ll have a better idea what’s going on in there when I get more information. I’ll be busy for the next few minutes, so you just relax and we’ll soon have you out of here. You’ll feel a small stick in a moment. The rest of the procedure is painless and you’ll be awake the whole time.”
“Thanks, Doctor. Ain’t the first time I’ve been stuck with needles or cut on.”
“I saw the scars. They’ve been there a long time, haven’t they?”
“Yup. Got one in Sicily, the others in France and Germany. That wuz back in nineteen forty-five.”
The masked figure nodded, then moved toward the end of the bed. Shorty felt the small pain the doctor had mentioned, then waited. A male nurse, also masked, moved a frame into place and pulled down on the screen; the device looked a lot like an old-fashioned window blind.
“What’s that thing, doctor?”
“It’s a screen, Shorty. I’ve done many of these procedures, so have my assistants. The screen protects us from the X-rays. We’ll use those to show us where the blockage is, then we’ll follow the catheter on the screen as I thread it through the artery. There are branches in the arteries, and I’ll need to follow the right one. I’ll be recording the display and as soon as I have a moment, I’ll play it back for you so you can see what we’re doing.
“We’re putting the dye in now, Shorty. It might feel a little uncomfortable.”
Shorty nodded, concentrating on the sensations he was feeling. He wasn’t alarmed; for whatever reason, he was relaxed, almost a spectator to what was happening. Had the nurse injected a sedative in the tube connected to his wrist?
The doctor moved into position. Suddenly the window-blind screen snapped up and the doctor muttered under his breath. He pulled down on the screen, but it refused to stay in place.
“How about I give you a hand, Doc? I ain’t doin’ much else, just lyin’ here.”
“You sure, Shorty?”
“Shore, Doc, nothin’ to it.” Shorty held the bottom of the screen while the doctor and his team worked. Moments later the nurse thanked Shorty and moved the screen aside.
“You’ve got a partial blockage of the right coronary artery here, in the right marginal artery. Here’s what it looks like.” Another team member wheeled over a monitor that looked much like an ordinary television. Shorty watched, fascinated, as the rope-like arteries pulsed gently and the heart squeezed rhythmically.”
“Dang, I never saw nothin’ like that. Shore is amazin’.”
“That’s the blockage right there; see how the thread of dye just past that point is smaller? That means this location has something blocking the blood flow. We’ll try a balloon angioplasty now. Can you hold the screen again?”
“Shore, Doc; I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
More wiggling at the bottom of the bed. Were they putting the balloon in his artery?
Shorty heard faint noises from where the doctor worked. Suddenly the pain in his chest was gone. There was no residual pain, nothing. It happened as suddenly as flipping a light switch.
“Dang! I reckon you got it, Doctor!”
“I think you’re right, Shorty. I don’t think you’ll even need a stent, but since you’ll be with us for a few days I can put one in if there are complications. We’ll be removing the portal and getting you ready to go to recovery in a moment. Thanks for your assistance; I’ll recommend you for screen-holding
duties to all my friends.”
“Will it hurt anything if I laugh, Doc?”
#
T sat, half asleep, on a bench outside the hospital.
#
Libby looked at her mother. Veronica was engrossed in a conversation with Sherry and her mother; it appeared that Veronica was amazed at the store’s prices, while Silvia intended to spend at least some of the money she’d won in Las Vegas. No one paid attention to Libby as she walked through the store’s entrance into the mall.
She took the escalator to the ground floor, then walked outside to the parking lot. Houston was hot and muggy. Libby began sweating as soon as she was outside.
She walked across the street into the Galleria’s parking area. There were cars driving through, people walking, but no one paid her any attention. Most appeared to be heading into the mall. Libby kept walking. She stopped long enough to send a text message, then resumed walking.
Minutes later, she approached the outer parking zone. The traffic in this area was much lighter. Libby stepped between a large pickup truck and a Volkswagen, deciding this was as good a place as she was likely to find. Glancing around a final time, she hopped into the bed of the pickup. Best to have no obstructions around...
Glancing at the sun, Libby oriented herself, facing westward. Thinking for a moment, she turned slightly to the right. If her direction was slightly off, she could correct when she got there. Little Dry Creek should be in that direction, perhaps a thousand miles away or maybe more. No problem. Levitation took almost no energy, so probably teleportation would work the same way. After all, neither Ray or Bobby had reported being especially tired after their first attempts. She’d have picked up the information from reading T’s thoughts.
