Make Me Disappear

by Jennifer Wilson

  “No, it’s all right,” Mabel said quickly. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

  “Looks like it could use some stitches,” the nurse, a kindly young man, said, examining her leg.

  “No,” repeated Mabel. “It’s not bleeding anymore; I’ll put some butterfly bandages on it.”

  “It’s your leg; I can’t force you to accept help,” he said. “But that wound will leave quite a scar. At least let me get some antibiotic ointment and bandage it up for you.”

  “I like scars,” Mabel said. “But all right.”

  He brought the ointment and bandages to the waiting room and quickly applied them to the laceration.

  “Don’t mention to anyone that I did this,” he said with a smile. “Or they’ll slap a bill on you so fast your head will spin.” He stood and patted her on the shoulder before leaving them alone again.

  The doctor came into the room, face unreadable. Crossing to them, he put out his hand to Gina and she shook it.

  “I’m Dr. Groves,” he said. “And you are…?”

  “I’m Gina Evans,” she answered. “And this is Jane Ennis.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking Mabel’s hand in turn. “How are you related to the patient?”

  “I’m a friend, and Jane here is his niece.”

  “Well, Ms. Ennis, your uncle has lost a lot of blood, which I’m sure you are aware of,” the doctor said, turning to Mabel. “The bullet is lodged in his shoulder muscle and we’re preparing to do surgery soon to remove it. The surgery shouldn’t take more than an hour or so, but we’re stabilizing him right now. I’ll let you know as soon as the surgery is over how it went and how he is doing.”

  “Oh, but when can we see him?” Gina asked, eyes dangerously red.

  “After surgery, if all goes well, you can see him then.”

  “Thank you doctor.”

  “You’re welcome. The police will be in soon to get the story of how this happened. They have to investigate whenever there’s a shooting, you understand.”

  “Yes, of course,” Gina said. The doctor turned and strode from the room, leaving Mabel’s heart quaking in her chest. The police. She considered running out the door, but knew it would only complicate matters.

  Be cool she told herself sternly. Be cool, and remember your story.

  “Are you okay, Jane?” Gina asked, seeing her face go pale beneath her tan.

  “I’m okay; I just…I don’t want to talk to the police.”

  “Just tell them exactly what you told me on the way over here. Everything will be fine.” She reached out and took Mabel’s hand in her own. They sat and tried to calm their individual minds and hearts, the air in the waiting room portentous with the accumulated anxiety of the people gathered there, each in their own private world of uncertainty and fear.

  An hour passed, and then two. Gina and Mabel sipped at the complimentary coffee and tried to joke about how terrible it was. The TV blared the latest governmental fiasco and added another layer to the charged atmosphere. Someone got up and snapped it off. Mabel sighed heavily.

  “Somebody, please, come tell us something,” she muttered.

  Dr. Groves entered, face once again a mask of carefully practiced neutrality.

  “Everything is fine,” he said, as he crossed the room to them. Mabel felt the knot in her chest loosen, and bowed her head in ineffable relief. Gina brought her hands to her face as a sob escaped her.

  “Took a little longer to dig the thing out than we predicted. There was quite a bit of damage to the muscle but we got him patched back together. He’ll probably need some physical therapy to regain complete use of that arm again, but he’s in excellent shape for a man his age and it shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Thank you so much, doctor,” Gina said, composing herself once more. “When might we see him?”

  “Someone will come and get you once he’s conscious again and we have his pain controlled.” He shook their hands again and left. The two women looked at one another and Gina drew Mabel into a hug. Mabel felt suddenly, ineffably weary.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” a voice said behind her. She turned to see a uniform-clad policeman, and her heart did a terrible flip in her chest. “Are you Jane Ennis?”

  Mabel nodded, unable to speak. He stuck his hand out and shook hers.

  “I’m Officer Smith. Ms. Ennis, as you might have been told, we have to do a complete investigation into any shooting. You understand?”

  She nodded again.

  “All right. Now, how are you related to Mr. Ennis?”

  “I…I’m his niece,” she said faintly, finding her voice.

  “Can you tell me how this shooting happened?”

  Mabel talked. She told of their vacation to the Dry Tortugas, of their brief meeting with Dan there, and their subsequent departure. She told of how they saw the disabled boat and went to help, of how Dan shot Jake and of the attempt upon her own life.

  “You pulled out your pocketknife?” the officer said, somewhat incredulous.

  “Yes. I pulled out my pocketknife and cut him pretty good in the face. He fell backwards and I was able to push him overboard.”

  “You pushed him overboard?” the officer was no longer somewhat, but very incredulous.

  “Yes. I pushed him overboard and then I turned on the motor and got the hell out of there.”

  “I see.” The officer scribbled notes furiously, and then sat thoughtfully, chewing on the end of his pen. “What did you say the suspect’s name was?”

  “Dan. All he said was Dan. He didn’t give a last name.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  “Six feet tall, maybe. Normal sized. Mid-twenties, or thereabouts. He was dark blonde, but he had this big beard that covered most of his face. His beard was mostly red.”

  More scribbling.

  “And do you have any idea what his motivation was for trying to kill you both?”

  “I think it must have something to do with the duffel bag full of money that he brought aboard right before he shot at us,” she said. The officer dropped his pen and gaped at her.

  “Duffel full of…”

  “Of money, yes,” Mabel finished for him.

  “Well, Ms. Ennis,” the officer said after some time. He seemed to be deciding just what to say. “I’m going to have to see that bag of money you described. Excuse me for a moment; I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  The two women sat in silence again. Mabel leaned her head against Gina’s shoulder and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, there were two uniformed officers in front of her.

  “Ms. Ennis, this is detective Maloney. He’s going to need to hear your story too.”

  “Okay,” Mabel sighed. Again she told the story, with Officer Smith looking back and forth from her face to the detective’s, chuckling at the look of amazement that soon overtook the detective’s expression.

  “See? I told you it was incredible!” He exclaimed. “Can you believe it?”

  “I think we need to go see that bag of cash,” the detective said. “Ms. Ennis, do you mind if you take us there now?”

  Mabel did mind, very much. She wanted to sit with Gina and wait until they could visit Jake, but the detective’s face said that the question was less of a question than it seemed on the surface. She stood slowly.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Back at Stella Luna, the detective took dozens of pictures of the boat, the destroyed radio, and the blood splatters in various places. He pried the bullets out of the paneling in the cabin and carefully placed them into zip lock baggies marked “evidence”. The duffel bag was unzipped and its contents examined. When they were done, they carried the bag to the car and climbed back inside.

  “Well, Ms. Ennis, you have had a rough twenty-four hours, haven’t you?” Officer Smith said to her as the detective pulled out of the parking lot. “We’ll take you back to the hospital now and hopefully you can see your uncle. We’ll have to talk to him as w
ell, just to be thorough.”

  Back at the hospital the nurse led them to the ICU, room 208, where Jake lay, shoulder bandaged, blood bag hanging next to him, looking pale but—to Mabel’s mind—infinitely beautiful. Gina sat next to him, holding his hand. He opened his eyes, saw Mabel, and smiled.

  “And there’s my hero,” he said softly as she crossed to him. She lay her head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart, steady and calming, and dampened his gown with her tears.

  Fifteen

  Gina and Mabel left the hospital that night, after much discussion regarding whether one of them should stay with Jake or not.

  “I’m not a child,” he finally said, voice faint but firm. “You two will rest better at home, and I don’t want either one of you to stay here with me.”

  “Are you sure, Jake?” Gina asked. “I thought—”

  “You can come back tomorrow for a visit, but I’d rather you remember my ass the last time you saw it rather than hanging out of a hospital gown, for god’s sake,” he said.

  “Okay then,” she laughed, and kissed him. Mabel gave him a gentle hug. As they left the room, they were met by Officer Smith once more.

  “I just wanted to warn you, Jane, that the press is outside waiting for you. They’re going to yell a lot of questions at you and take a lot of pictures. You don’t have to say anything or answer them at all. Do you understand?”

  “Is there another way out?” she asked, freezing in trepidation.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” he answered. “The media is going nuts with this story. I came to tell you also that the man you encountered matches the description of a bank robber here in Florida. He and three accomplices knocked over a bank in Miami just three weeks ago. Cops caught the three friends, but he got away. There was a big manhunt out for him, didn’t you guys see anything about it on the news?”

  “Don’t watch the news,” Mabel said, feeling faint.

  “Anyway, his name was Donald Freeman. He had a rap sheet about a mile long, and it is ugly. You’re both very lucky to be alive.”

  “Yes.” Mabel did not feel lucky at the moment.

  “I can help you get past them, if you like. Ms. Evans, would you like to drive the car around so that Ms. Ennis here can get in quickly and get away?”

  “Sure, I’ll do that,” Gina said, striding purposefully away.

  “Ms. Ennis, just stay close to me and I’ll get you to the car. I’m warning you that they’ll probably be at your home as well, however. They manage somehow to find everything out, you know.”

  “I guess so,” she said. “But what do they want?”

  “Pictures, mostly. A soundbite or two to show on the evening news. This is a pretty big story, you understand? And you’re the hero in it,” he chuckled. “Frankly, I’d like your autograph.”

  They arrived at the doorway and peered out. Sure enough, the paparazzi was gathered there, waiting to pounce as soon as she showed her face. Gina pulled up with the car and Mabel took a deep breath.

  “Ready,” she said.

  They plunged into the melee of people and cameras, and the shouting nearly deafened her. Flashbulbs blinded her and she kept her head down the whole way to the open car door, which she shut as quickly as possible once she was safely inside.

  “Get me out of here,” she muttered as Gina floored it, narrowly missing the most intrepid reporters.

  “They’re sure to be at the harbor too,” Gina said. “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m so tired; I just want to go to sleep,” Mabel moaned.

  “I’ll park around the back of the bar and grill and you can run up to the apartment. Sleep as long as you want there. Will that work?”

  “Yes, please,” Mabel said.

  Pulling into the parking spot, Mabel spied the news van and a small crowd of people milling around the dock’s edge. She and Gina quietly shut the doors on the car and ran up the stairs that led to the apartment above the restaurant.

  “We made it!” Gina exclaimed. “Now, here’s the bathroom, and I’ll pull out the couch bed. How about that? You can stay as long as you like.”

  “Thanks, Gina,” Mabel said.

  “You’re very welcome. And Jane?”

  “What?”

  “Thank you. Thank you for getting back here safely with Jake. I don’t know what I would have done if—”

  “You’re welcome, Gina,” Mabel said, unwilling to entertain what ifs.

  Gina left to attend to the bar and grill, and Mabel, alone at last, washed her face in the bathroom, curled up on the couch bed, and was fast asleep within moments.

  Sixteen

  “When are they going to release him?” Mabel asked Gina after five days had gone by. “I miss him a lot.”

  “I know you do. But he’s got to stay another couple of days so they can guard against infection. He’s on some pretty heavy duty antibiotics, but they want to keep a close eye on him. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  To occupy her time, Mabel took long walks around town, stopping in at the library for books and the small local market for sustenance. One day she wandered by a Panini shop and, answering the call of her ever-grumbling stomach, went in. The handsome young man at the counter exclaimed in surprise to see her.

  “Jane, right?” he said. “It’s Carl; remember me? From the beach? Geez, I haven’t seen you in like forever. How have you been doing?”

  “I’m hanging in there.”

  He nodded.

  “I saw you on the news. Crazy thing! That must have been really scary.”

  “It was.”

  “You’re like, famous.”

  “I guess. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “I understand. Anyway, want a sandwich? My treat? Let me make you one of my specialties.”

  Mabel nodded and he went to work. Before long she was biting into a delicious combination of salami, Portobello mushrooms and peppers mixed with provolone and mozzarella and doused in oil and vinegar. She wiped her mouth with a pile of napkins and smiled at him as he waited, expectant, for her reaction.

  “Really good,” she said, around her next enormous bite. “Messy, but really good.”

  He bowed deeply and went to wait on another customer.

  “Hey, I get off here in about ten minutes,” he said as she finished up. “Can I walk you home?”

  She allowed that he could. Soon they were strolling in the late afternoon sunshine, steaming hot and redolent with jasmine. When he reached for her hand, she did not protest, but thought to herself how very nice and warm it was in her own. At the bar and grill they sat in the shade of the awning and sipped on sweet tea that Gina brought out.

  “So when’s your uncle coming back?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow,” she said. “I’ve really missed him.”

  “I bet you were pretty worried.”

  “Yes. He’s all I have,” she said, and realized they were the most truthful words she had spoken in a very long time.

  “It’s just my mom and me,” Carl was saying as he drained his glass. “My parents got divorced a long time ago, when I was really little. I don’t remember my dad at all, and she says that’s good. I guess he was a real ass.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not. My mom is great. You should come meet her some time, at my house. Hey, do you want to go to the movies on Friday? We could go see whatever you like.”

  “Like, on a date?” she said, stunned by the notion.

  “Yeah, like a date,” he laughed at her then, and she reddened.

  “I’ve never been on a date before,” she said. More truthfulness. It felt good, she noted.

  “Wow, really? So will you come?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Awesome.”

  Carl walked her to Stella Luna and they sat on the deck with their feet dangling, watching the sun set in silence for a while and feeding bits of bread to the small fish that rose to the surface of the water with hungry mouths. />
  “I guess I’d better be going,” Carl said finally, as the light began to fade. He leaned into her then, and took her face gently in his hands, turning her to him. With great tenderness he pressed his lips to hers, and she felt suddenly as though she was being reborn as an ordinary teenager with no dark past haunting her, just a teenaged girl getting her first real kiss from a boy on the deck of a boat. She scooted closer to him, and he put his arm around her as they continued. Finally, he broke away and sighed.

  “That was…nice,” Mabel said quietly. Carl laughed.

  “Yeah, it was. Shall we do it again?”

  They did. And it was even nicer. Carl smelled of soap and rising bread and sunshine, and he tasted slightly, pleasantly metallic. Eventually, however, when it was very dark indeed, he reluctantly disengaged himself, got up and walked off the boat to the dock, waving and disappearing around the corner of the bar. His slight swagger remained in Mabel’s memory for a very long time as she lay in her bunk, drifting off to sleep, where the dreams that awaited her were all pleasant.

  Seventeen

  Jake was back at the sailboat the next day, though his recovery was destined to be long and arduous. The bullet had missed any bones, but the damage to the muscle was extensive and his arm remained in a sling. Still, he was itching to get back on the water, and with Mabel doing the heavy lifting, they took a test run to Mule Key and back without incident.

  “You’re good as new,” she said to him, and he laughed.

  “Not quite,” he said, wincing a little. “I still can’t even tie a bowline with this blasted sling on.”

  “But you don’t need to; we can still open up for business. I can sail; you just have to direct me.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Come on, why the hesitation?”

  “Mabel, there’s just one thing I don’t understand,” he said, gazing hard into her eyes. She felt the import of the look, and tried to meet it with confidence. “How on earth did you get us back here, anyway? The navigation was completely obliterated by bullets. It cost $500 to fix it. There’s no way—no way—a novice could have gotten us those last thirty miles on their own.”