He poured each of us another shot. Only a quarter of the bourbon remained. “That story deserves another libation.” I giggled at him and we sat forward. He locked his arm around mine, and I giggled again as we tossed back the shots. Our faces were very close. He breathed to me softly, “Actually, Maddy, if I promise to share that particular piece of history with you, might I kiss you?”
I nodded. I tingled.
He held my face in his large hands, ever so tenderly. As our lips met I felt as if I could easily melt into him, so special, so desired. Realization that I had never felt this way, in this life, flashed through my mind and heart. His lips were so soft, so warm, so welcome. We parted reluctantly and I could see that my own feelings were being mirrored within him.
“Auggie,” I breathed.
We didn’t make love at that time. Auggie received a phone call from Corazon before we had the chance to discover his bedroom. Juanita was having increasing pain and pressure, and the nurse felt that he needed to come up immediately. He was as devastated as I was, but we held each other as I prepared to go back to my room, promising to return where we’d left off, parting with the most endearing kiss I have ever received – or given – in my life. I floated down his front steps and my feet never touched the ground.
If there are any lessons I have been repeatedly taught in this life, it is that we find what we are looking for in the places we least expect. We find our car keys, or important papers, where we have last tucked them away and then forgotten; we find treasures that we enjoy having in an out of the way shop, or a store that our intuition teases us to explore. We find love, after a lifetime of looking, in an unlikely situation and with a person we might never have considered. We find ourselves, our innermost feelings, our souls – when our spirits come together with the appropriate synchronicity.
Life grants us these special moments and reminds us to never judge the book by its cover, never believe that hopes and dreams cannot come true, and never forget that choices made for the wrong reasons can be rectified and made whole.
16
Auggie drove up to the House, parked, and went in through the back entrance. The House was quiet, the kitchen dark. Night light shone from beneath the door to Lupe’s room, next to the one Corazon claimed as her own, across the hall from the kitchen. He went downstairs and saw brighter light coming from the delivery room.
Corazon was standing beside Juanita, who was lying on the delivery table but propped up with some comfortable pillows. The nurse was bathing the patient’s face with soft cloths, and there was a pitcher and glass on the table near her. Auggie looked at Juanita’s face and went to her side, grasping her hand with his soft touch. “Hello Juanita,” he said softly. “I can see you’re in pain and I’m sorry. Let’s see what we can do to help.”
He rolled the ultrasound machine over, and as gently as he could, repeated the process he’d used with her earlier. Corazon watched his face as he watched the display screen, frowning as she saw his expression darken.
He put the instruments away and rolled the cart back into the corner. “Well, love,” he said as he returned to Juanita’s side, “I am sorry, but it looks like we are going to have to deliver the baby by C-section.”
Juanita’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Doctor Auggie. What is wrong?”
He stroked her hand and arm. “It seems that the placenta – the part of your womb that gives the baby life – is trying to come out first. And that’s not good, because the baby needs it to live.”
Juanita closed her eyes, dark circles beneath. “Tonight?” she sighed.
“Yes, love, I think we should. It’s certainly the best thing for you – and I want you to know, that you are the important one here, to me and Corazon.” Cora nodded as she placed another cool compress on Juanita’s forehead.
Auggie signaled his nurse. “Come with me for a moment.”
They crossed the hall to the nursery, shutting the door behind them. Auggie paced nervously. “Richard refuses to send her into the city. He cares nothing for the life of this woman or her child.” He sighed heavily, his face a dark mask of distress. “We don’t have what we need here for this kind of operation.”
“But what can we do if Mr. Waverly won’t help?”
He shook his head sadly. “The best we can. I know she and the baby will both die if I don’t do something – soon. No probably about it.”
“If it is truly that way, then, Doctor Augustus, you must do the best you can. Many long years, many places, doctors can only do with what they have. You are a good man, Auggie. You can do this.”
Auggie lifted his shoulders to absorb a little of her confidence.
They went back into the delivery room, and began preparing for the operation. Auggie and she both dressed in what sterile clothing they had, and Cora draped Juanita with several sterile cloths and sheets. Juanita continued fading, and at one point startled the nurse and doctor with an agonized cry.
It was heard in the uppermost level of the House, and awakened the other girls. They climbed from their beds and gathered, silently, around the banister of the staircase, looking down into the gloom of the first floor.
Lupe rose from her own bed as well. She threw her robe over her gown, and padded to the head of the stairs to the basement. Juanita cried out again, and Lupe clutched the sides of her arms. She went to the front staircase, and looked up through the dimness to see the girls gathered at the top. She grasped the hem of her nightwear and ascended toward them, joining them with hugs and soft words. The women maintained a vigil, their faces drawn and worried.
Auggie was working through serious handicaps. There was not the proper anesthetic equipment, and he instructed Cora to try and knock Juanita out with a combination of a potent painkiller in injection form and an emergency canister of an inhaled gas. The room was not sterile, negating the effect of the clean instruments he used. Juanita drifted off quite quickly, but Auggie and Cora were tensely nervous. They prepared her abdomen as well as they could.
Cora watched Auggie’s hand tremble as he held his scalpel. She placed her hand on his arm and said through her mask, “You CAN do this. You CAN.” Their eyes connected momentarily. Auggie placed the edge of the knife against his patient.
Upstairs, the ladies held each other’s hands and prayed together in hushed tones.
Auggie delivered the baby as he lost Juanita. Her blood trickled from the table and pooled on the floor.
Corazon whisked the baby, a beautiful tiny girl a month premature, into the nursery – carefully sidestepping the puddle of dying life.
The doctor respectfully covered Juanita’s body with a clean sheet. Before he pulled the shroud over her now peaceful face, he tenderly closed her eyes and bent down and kissed her forehead, stroking her wet hair. His own tears fell upon his lost patient.
Auggie left the room and went into the nursery. He watched Corazon’s expert ministrations with the infant. “How is she?”
Cora smiled at him, her face lightened. “I think she is just fine, Auggie. Tiny, so tiny – but I don’t see a thing wrong with her. Muy bonita, and she is breathing very well.” She tucked a warm receiving blanket around the tiny bundle. “Pobrecita, her mama. Sometimes these things just happen.” She looked up at the doctor. “Dios Mio, Auggie. Look.”
Auggie began to look down at himself, unaware. He was drenched in blood.
He hung his head. “I know we did everything we could. Our hands were tied.”
Cora placed the infant in the bassinette, which was equipped with a warming pad. “This is not our fault, Auggie. You are right – we did all that we could.”
His face was very red, his expression very dark. “I need a drink.” He left her and headed up the stairs. As she watched him leave, tears clouded her eyes.
Auggie went straight to Waverly’s office, flipped on a light and headed for the bar on the credenza. He picked out the largest glass he saw, and plucked the stopper from a decanter. He filled the tumbler and drank deeply, coughing.
Blood from his hands stained the tumbler and decanter and deepened the red of the big man’s face.
His eyes turned to the direction of Waverly’s bedroom.
He pounded his fist on the door of the master bedroom; upstairs, the ladies listened silently and all shrank away from the stairs. He paused and rattled the door with his big fist once more. He listened as noises of awakening came toward the door from within the room.
Waverly threw open the door, eyes angered to see the big man on the other side. Auggie towered over him, and the older man backed up. He growled, “You’ve got a real problem downstairs.” He turned on his heel and Waverly watched as the doctor threw open the glamorous front door of the House and stomped out. He winced as Auggie threw the crystal tumbler on the front step with such force it shattered into a million bits.
His eyes widened as he noticed the streaks of red on his own bedroom door.
17
Although I was lying in my bed, I couldn’t go to sleep. I was alone in my room. Apparently Bry had decided to sleep over at Donna’s, which he’d done several times before. I’d removed my dressy clothes and put on my old tee shirt and panties and stretched out on my mattress, my head whirling with reliving my magnificent evening. I stared at the ceiling, tracing the dirt lines of ancient leaks and imagining a treasure map.
My eyes were drawn away to a sudden shadow outside the window above my head. A soft knock sounded on the door. I sat up on my bed, slipped into my flip-flops, and went to the door, my body sheltered by it as I poked my head around the opening. Auggie stood in the shadows. He whispered, “Maddy, I’m so sorry to wake you. Could I please come in?”
My skin broke out in a wild rash of gooseflesh. Without thinking of my appearance, I stepped back and let him come inside. He walked to the middle of the room and turned around to face me.
I was instantly horrified as my heart leapt into my throat. He was wearing scrubs with a white lab coat over them, and nearly all of the fabric was dark with blood. I looked at his face, softly illuminated by the light from the streetlamps shining in through the windows. Blood streaked his face, and even his hair looked matted. I gasped. “Auggie? Are you okay?”
He hung his head and I could not see his face or eyes. “Yes love, I’m okay,” his voice cracked as he spoke. “One of my girls died tonight. I had to do a C-section to try to save her and the baby, and something went horribly wrong.” I saw his big shoulders heave with emotion.
Forgetting I was shabbily and scantily dressed, I went to him. I touched his face. “Auggie. I’m so sorry. I’m sure you did everything humanly possible.” I teared as I listened to him sniffle. His great chest heaved with a sob.
“He wouldn’t do anything for her.”
I puzzled. “Who, Auggie?”
“Waverly. The scum. He wouldn’t even let me send her to a hospital.”
I felt a rising tide of hatred coming from him, and wanted to fend it off. I fetched him some tissue, and he wiped his eyes. “Please, Auggie. It’s not your fault.”
He signed deeply. “Oh, my god. I am so sorry for coming here and waking you. I – “
“It’s okay, I wasn’t asleep anyhow.”
He noticed the garments I wasn’t wearing and I felt some of his anger dissipating. “Oh, dear – I –“
I shushed him. “Let me throw on some clothes, and I’ll go back to your place with you. I think you need a warm shower and to not be alone.” I grabbed my jeans and pulled them on, adding a sweatshirt. He avoided looking at me as I dressed. “Okay,” I said, “Let’s go.”
He took my hand and together we walked silently through the dark to his home.
He walked to the doorway of his room. “Care to make a couple of adult beverages?” He almost smiled.
I listened as the sound of the water drifted out to me. I washed my hands, and helped myself in the refrigerator and mixed two stiff bourbon and cokes. I sat back down at his dinette and listened to him shower. I would have been jealous of the water were it not for the horror it was currently washing away.
He came back out wrapped in a flannel robe. He tousled his hair with a towel. “Much better. Much.” He picked up the glass I’d made for him and took a sip. “That’s much better too. I sobered up in a hurry after I went up to the House tonight – the memory of our steaks seems very distant.” He sat down across from me at the table.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I could feel the disturbance, the unbalance in him.
“I was forced to do something I should never have done. Not the right place, not the right tools, not the right anything. It was a true emergency, and that bastard Richard always thinks ONLY of himself. Always.” He slapped the tabletop with his hand. Our glasses jumped. “I’m sorry,” he added.
I took a sip from my glass, got up, and went to his side.
I took off my sweatshirt, and then my tee shirt. I slid my jeans and panties over my hips, and stepped out of my shoes. Auggie stood up and took me in his powerful arms. I opened his robe.
I lived the best dream of my life in those few wee hours of that morning. We made love, over and over, our bodies as one, so new and yet so very familiar. He was as kind and gentle as I knew he would be, so loving and warm and romantic. I knew that I pleased him and found that a cherished delight as well. Our lips rarely parted; our skin seemed to meld together. His large bones were part of my smaller ones; as he rose and fell within me I completed him. Time and space disappeared, as the magic of being in human bodies became reality and the mystery of life became clear. I wanted to never part from him, to live only within his embrace, to be part of him forever.
We may ask and pray for many years, and then in an instant the Creator responds with a blink of his wondrous eye. Our existence is changed for eternity.
We never know where, with whom, or when.
18
Waverly called Tony early the next morning, waking him from sound sleep. “Hello,” Tony mumbled, coughing. He gathered his expensive sheets around his nakedness.
“Tony. We had a little problem here last night.”
“Good morning, Richard. Nice to hear from you.” Tony rubbed his eyes.
“I’m sorry, where the fuck are my manners?”
Tony cringed. “Okay, Richard, okay. I’m awake.”
“Auggie had to do an emergency C-section on Juanita last night. It didn’t go well. He lost her.”
“Yeah, well what’s wrong with that? Saved Manny the trouble.”
Waverly paused, a cold chill coming through the line. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it, you dumb fuck. Here’s another – since you see things from the point of view of your bank balance, and not from your brain or penis, we could easily have lost the baby as well. Our little investment.”
Tony shivered. “I see your point.”
Richard continued, “It’s time to take care of Juanita’s son.”
Rafe and Tony met at the truck stop, not far from Waverly’s apartment buildings. The two of them sat in a booth and ordered hearty breakfasts. They talked for a while about sports and wagers, just a couple of guys, and poured the last two cups of coffee from the carafe the waitress had placed at their table. “So,” said Rafe, I take it Juanita Ojeda had her baby last night? Isn’t that what you wanted to see me about?”
Tony hesitated, glanced around them. “Well yeah, that is why I called. I’ll be getting the baby tomorrow.” He glanced out through the windows.
Rafe watched him. They’d been doing business together for several years, above board and below, and knew each other well as friends and conspirators, trusting each other only because they were cut from identical cloth. Tony was a little flashy with his money, loving the finer things and finer women, the expensive house and car. Rafe was more practical, hoarding his well-paid funds for the rainy days that are always sure to follow shady deals. “I sense a problem.”
Tony laughed, nervously. “You know me too well.” He sipped his coffee. “The lady died last night and they nearly lost the bab
y too.”
“But it’s okay, right?”
“Yeah.” Tony fiddled with his spoon. “But I know Waverly well enough to tell that he was truly pissed that something interfered with his grand plans.”
“ If I didn’t know better, you look like you seen a ghost.”
“In a way, brother. In a way.” Tony looked out the window at the tractor trailers weaving in and out of the parking lot. He shifted in his seat. “He wants us to get rid of Juanita’s son.”
Rafe sat back in his seat and looked as if he’d been hit between the eyes. When he was a teenager, about the age of Juanita’s son, his own mother had died unexpectedly. Rafe was left alone, never knowing his father, his mom an only child without living relatives. He’d fended for himself in the city in which she’d died, and generally had a miserable and lonely existence, scratching his way along. His mother had left him penniless and subsequently homeless, and he was forced to survive by his young wits. It had not been pleasant. He’d talked to Tony frequently about his hard times, and although Tony could not match Rafe’s stories, in the years that they’d worked together he had taken the younger man under his wing. Knowing and working with Tony had provided Rafe the equivalent of higher education and a successful career.
Tony looked at his partner. “I am not without feelings here, Rafe. I know that you faced this same situation and what happened. I know you’ve seen this kid, Cristian. I have spent some time with him, too. He’s a good kid.” He looked out the window as a couple of lady truckers made their way across the lot. “We need a plan.”
Rafe sighed deeply, his shoulders slumped. “I don’t want that kid to die.”
Tony stared into the bottom of his empty cup. “Neither do I. Like I said, we need a plan, fast. Now. There’s one thing I’ve learned about Waverly. You don’t let him find out you’ve fucked him, if you want to live.”
Johnson Junction Page 9
