“Move on down the road and find another house.”
“Now you’re using your noggin.” Poppy gave me a gentle slap on the knee.
Actually, my noggin was fuzzy with the after effects of the martini, but I still understood his point.
“You’re sure we can see my mermaid?” I asked, as we arrived at Treasure Coast Memorial. Poppy held me by the elbow as I climbed out of his truck, which was a very good idea because I couldn’t remember the last time I had been that drunk.
“The docs told the authorities it’s okay to talk to that half-drowned girl. Zelda says she is okay, but pretty quiet. That ain’t surprising. If I were her, I’d keep my mouth shut, too.”
“Authorities? You mean the Jupiter Island Public Safety Department? They’ve got jurisdiction, right?”
“No, I mean Homeland Security and the Martin County Sheriff’s Office. They got translators and people from the government who want to interview her before they send her back home.”
“Translators?” Either he was mumbling or I was too drunk to hear him clearly. Or both.
“She’s a native of Guatemala. The Bahamas was jest the launching point for the boat.”
“What good will it do me to talk to her if she can’t speak English?” My head felt woozy, and if Poppy didn’t have a grip on me, I would have surely stumbled over the parking bumpers.
“Tarnation, girl. Just because you can’t speak Spanish don’t mean that I can’t. I can also speak a smidgeon of Portuguese.”
That woke me up a bit. I had never considered that Poppy might be bi-lingual, much less a polyglot. In fact, in a moment of embarrassing candor, I realized I considered him uneducated and unskilled. But he wasn’t. He could fix a motor, he could speak other languages, and he knew how to make cranky nursing supervisors bend to his will. How easily we undervalue people who don’t fit the molds we’ve carefully created for them. My view of “good people” or “worthwhile” people was seriously skewed toward those with a college education.
But I didn’t have one.
Nor did Kiki.
Neither did Poppy.
But I put so much store by this ranking factor that I would move heaven and earth to be sure that my son finished college. How weird was that? And I’d assumed, because Poppy didn’t have a four-year degree that he knew less than I did. I’d assumed he didn’t speak a second language.
Shame on me.
Rather than apologize, I hurried along at my grandfather’s side.
“So you’ve been keeping up with Zelda?”
“Ain’t got much else to keep me off the streets these days. Not with Wilma out of town. Once I get Sid out the front door, I got entirely too much time on my hands. I been applying at one place after another. Been in more garages than a car with a rattle. Ain’t nobody willing to hire an old man like me.”
The pain in his voice dug a knife into my heart. At least, I could find comfort in the fact that I wasn’t the only idiot with a set of prejudices that overwhelmed my common sense. For me, it was a college education; for many others, it was age.
Inside the hospital foyer, Poppy winked and nodded at the wrinkled lady in the pink volunteer jacket. “Hey ya, Thelma. How’s tricks?”
We scooted past her and into the open elevator right before a doctor in surgical scrubs joined us. The doc did a double-take when he saw Poppy.
“Dr. Mellen. How’s that old Buick of yours? Still running like a top?” Poppy stuck out his hand, and the doctor responded with a hearty shake.
“She misses you, Dick. I know she does. I can tell. Where’re you keeping yourself these days?”
“Nowheres special,” and Poppy gave the doc a tiny salute as the man got off at another floor. When the door closed, I put my arm around my grandfather and hugged him.
“Poppy, we’ll find meaningful work for you to do. I know you miss the Gas E Bait. I miss it, too. I can’t imagine not having a job. You’re handling it better than I would.”
He planted a kiss in my hair. “Granddaughter, you make me proud.”
32
Zelda fluttered around Poppy like a pelican diving on a fisherman to grab his bait. “I knew you’d want to know that woman is awake,” she said, speaking only to my grandfather as if I didn’t exist. “They’ve got a guard outside of her room. She’s not fully cogent, but I’m sure you want to see her with your own eyes since you saved her.”
“Cara saved her.” Poppy smiled gently as he corrected her.
“Right, Carla.”
“Cara,” I corrected the woman.
“Yes, of course, Karen. But first, could I interest you in a cup of coffee? I brought in cookies. Homemade. A plate of them? I love to bake and I’m a fabulous cook, if I do say so myself!”
“Actually, Cara’s the one who wanted to see that there girl. But if the cop is a lookout, that might be tough.”
“Oh, he’ll be leaving his post soon enough. He’s had enough coffee to float a boat,” Zelda said with a giggle. “The policemen usually won’t use the bathroom in a room they’re guarding if it belongs to a female patient. They’re funny that way. In this case, the john is right across the hall. See? Carmen can park herself at the nurses’ station and take a load off while she waits for him to go tinkle.”
“Cara,” I said loudly.
I really did not like being referenced in the third person, but rather than voice my irritation, I acted like a good little girl. I headed in the direction that Zelda had pointed. And yes, to be honest, I badly needed to sit down because the entire floor was turning somersaults around me. The tiles took on lives of their own. Walt Disney would have been proud of their animation. Those lemon drop martinis had done a number on my head.
With an “oomph,” I sank down in a desk chair with casters and nearly toppled off the seat. Poppy’s eyes went wide.
Fortunately Zelda didn’t notice because she was busy batting her lashes at my grandfather. As they strode off, arm in arm, Poppy shot a wink my way. A jerk of his chin suggested that I keep watch on the man outside of the door to the room where my mermaid was staying. I offered Poppy a “thumbs up” so he’d know I was sober enough to understand his directions.
Carefully, I scooted the wheeled office chair in an arc and pointed myself at the hospital room door. Was Zelda right? Would the cop have to leave his post for a pit stop?
I propped my head up on my fists and waited, wondering what I’d say to the woman if given the chance. Glad you’re alive? Have a nice trip back home? Sorry I didn’t drag you into the sea oats so no one would know that you’d washed up? Of all the gin joints, why’d you happen to pick my beach?
Snoring noises echoed from the slumped figure outside the hospital room.
So much for guarding the illegal alien.
Maybe I could sneak around the cop and peek inside the room. Or make a loud noise and wake him up. If he knew I was the one who’d rescued the mermaid, perhaps he’d be—
But my thoughts were interrupted as an orderly came down the hall, pushing a meal cart. On it was a dinner tray. He paused outside the mermaid’s room.
“Room 314?” he asked the cop, who was trying to act like he hadn’t just been sound asleep.
“Yup. Her dinner? I didn’t think she was well enough to eat.”
The orderly chuckled. “Beats me. Sometimes the docs order meals just to run up the bill. Sick, ain’t it?”
“Okay, look, you going to be with her? Let me run to the john while you’re here.” The cop stood up and hoisted his pants.
“She’s in good hands.” The orderly pushed his cart into the room.
As soon as the policeman disappeared inside the bathroom, I darted across the hall. The door to the mermaid’s room was slightly open but it blocked my view of the bed and the woman.
So close and yet so far. Here I was outside the mermaid’s room, but I still couldn’t see her, couldn’t reassure myself that she was okay. Poppy and Zelda would be back any minute. I wasn’t sure how long Zelda would let us
hang around.
After dithering a bit, I decided to stick my head around the door. All I wanted was a good look at her. I really didn’t have anything much to say—and she wouldn’t understand me anyway. I tiptoed to the door frame and flattened myself against the door itself so I could peep inside the room.
The orderly didn’t see me, but I saw him… as he used a knife to cut through the tubing that delivered oxygen to the mermaid.
33
“Stop!” I screamed. I didn’t even take time to think about the fact the man was holding a knife. A big knife at that. He dropped the air tube pieces and stared at me from the far side of the bed.
“Help!” I yelled down the hall. “Poppy! Help me!”
The orderly brandished the knife in a way that suggested he knew what he was doing. The glint in his eye scared me. I sobered up fast as he came out from behind the bed.
I back-pedaled into the hallway. “No,” I said, patting the air and unable to take my eyes off the silver blade.
With his one free hand, the orderly used the cart as a buffer in front of him. I was backing away from the door when it dawned on me what he was planning. Once I cleared the door, he could slam it shut and finish whatever he was doing to my mermaid.
Killing her.
Footsteps clattered behind me. I smelled Aqua Velva and knew that Poppy had my back.
“He’s got a knife. He cut a tube. Her oxygen I think,” I said, without looking away from the orderly.
“Move aside,” said my grandfather.
But I couldn’t do that. In a contest between a man with a knife and my elderly grandfather, I knew who would win. I would not lose Poppy to this madman!
The cart was the only barrier between me and the guy with a knife. Instinctively, I shoved it forward, as hard as I could. My impulsive act sent the dishes flying. Hot green beans splattered the orderly’s scrubs. The air was dense with the odor of overcooked chicken, mashed potatoes, and melted butter.
“Ouch!” He jumped backwards and brushed smashed bits of green off his thighs.
“I said move!” Poppy grabbed me by the waist, spinning me around and hurling me to one side. My feet tangled up underneath me. I hit the floor hard and skidded on the tiles. In the background, Zelda screamed for help.
I was sprawled out in front of the bathroom door when it opened. The cop staggered out, fighting with the buckle on his utility belt. Slowly I rolled to my knees. My balance had been severely impaired by the vodka, but adrenaline overrode the alcohol. Teetering, I pushed myself to my feet.
The cop and I looked on in horror as my grandfather snatched up a dinner tray that had fallen to the floor. Holding it like a shield, Poppy tried to muscle his way into the hospital room. “You ain’t smart enough to use that knife on me. You don’t even know how to hold it right, you dope.”
The cop’s mouth was open in shock. Zelda’s screams got louder. I could hear voices, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the scene. Poppy was crouched and totally focused on the orderly.
My grandfather acted like he knew what he was doing, but did he?
With a clang, the orderly rammed the cart into Poppy. My grandfather spun to one side, avoiding the wheeled weapon. But the cop didn’t move out of the way fast enough. The cart hit the cop and brought him down. As the guy in uniform flailed the air, his long legs knocked Poppy off his feet. Both men landed in a tangled heap on the tile floor. That left me standing by myself to one side of the open doorway.
The orderly wrapped his forearm around my throat, pulling me close. I could feel his heart beating. A cold sting at my throat surprised me.
“I’ll cut her open, right here, right now, if you don’t back off,” he said. The orderly’s breath was moist against my ear. I could smell that he’d been eating garlic. I could also felt a warm trickle down my throat.
Blood. The stinging began to throb.
Poppy jumped back to his feet and held the tray in front of him like a shield. The cop was groaning as he rolled slowly to his knees. To my left, a gaggle of doctors and nurses stood at bay. Zelda’s hysterical sobs echoed in the corridor.
“She’s coming with me,” said the orderly, as he dragged me backwards. His knees were sharp and bony as they poked the back of mine. I had no choice but to move with him. Poppy stared at me, sending me a message of sorts, but what? I couldn’t tell. My assailant positioned his head directly behind mine.
“You’ll have to put a bullet through her head to kill me.”
I backed up with the orderly as best I could.
Poppy advanced on us. “Let her go. Be a man. Fight me instead of her, you coward!”
“Shut up, you old fart!”
The blade of the knife stung me again. The world blurred as tears filled my eyes.
“I done tole you once, now I’m telling you again. You let my granddaughter go, or I’ll skin you like the squirrel you are. You’ll be begging for mercy before I’m through with you.” Poppy’s voice had gone flat and unemotional. His eyes glittered strangely. He did not back down.
The orderly tightened his grip on me. “Clear the stairs or I’ll slice her throat!”
The cold blade of the knife tickled my throat. If he took me down the stairs, I would surely die. Already blood wetted my collar. The orderly was so close that his breath warmed my skin.
That gave me an idea.
I signaled to Poppy, moving my fingers as though doing a countdown. A flicker of recognition told me he had caught my drift. My grandfather shifted his weight to the balls of his feet.
My attacker continued to move me backwards, but on the count of three, I let my knees buckle. The orderly gasped, tightened his hold around my neck, and swayed under my weight. Instinctively, my body fought the limp position. I’d inadvertently made it harder to breathe, so every cell protested loudly, but I had also managed to throw my assailant off-balance.
My thoughts flickered to Tommy. I wanted to see him grown, on his own, and married. I remembered my parents. As long as I was alive, they would be remembered. I thought of my friends. What would Skye, MJ, Honora, and Sid do for jobs? Of course, there was Poppy. He would be lost without me. And my friend Kiki Lowenstein. How often had she saved herself? What would she do in my place?
Kiki wouldn’t give up. I wouldn’t either. My feet dragged against the tiles. The orderly adjusted his hold around my throat.
“Don’t you dare fight me, lady. You do, and they’ll be picking up pieces of you all over this place! Back off, old man. I mean it. If you try anything, she’s a goner.” Bits of spittle landed on my head, moist and warm.
Poppy kept his focus on my assailant. I couldn’t go without air much longer.
Using the fingers of my left hand, I counted down again.
Three.
Two.
One!
I rammed my head into the orderly’s nose.
Crunch.
Reflexively, his hands flew up. He let go of his grip on me as he howled in pain. I dropped to the floor, tucking myself into a ball, like I’d learned in gymnastics class twenty years ago. I rolled until the wall stopped me with a jolt. Lying there, stunned, I watched as Poppy lurched forward.
Blood spurted from the orderly’s nose. He cupped his hands over his face—and then wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. With an angry curse, he waved his knife at Poppy. But he missed, slicing the air while Poppy twirled away like a ballerina.
My heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t take my eyes off my grandfather. This was not the man I knew. An odd expression changed his features. A cold glare rendered him foreign to me. He had shifted from old man to warrior. Wielding the tray like a shield in his left hand, Poppy fended off a second downward swipe of the knife. But the orderly stepped into a pool of blood. His feet skittered off to one side. Blinded by tears and in pain, he struggled to stay upright. My grandfather closed the distance. His right hand hooked up and caught the orderly under his chin with a loud snap.
The knife hit the floor. It spun in
lazy circles, dribbling blood on the tiles in a Jackson Pollock parody. I reached for the weapon, snatching it up quickly.
Meanwhile, Poppy had the orderly by his collar. With a determined stomp of his foot, my grandfather shoved the orderly’s knee backwards until it snapped. As the high-pitched wail of pain echoed off the walls, Poppy twisted the man’s arm behind him. With a jerk, my grandfather pulled the creep’s hand up, up, and up until we heard a loud pop.
Another screech of pain split the air. Poppy rammed the orderly face first into the wall next to me. My grandfather smacked his entire weight against my assailant. In return, the man bounced off the wall like a tennis ball hitting the side of a garage. An ominous crunch suggested broken bones. After a gurgle of pain, the man hocked up a mouthful of blood and spat it out. Broken teeth dotted the red splotch. Poppy grunted and shoved the man against the concrete block wall again.
“Poppy?” I said. “I think…I think he’s under control.”
My grandfather’s normally placid expression had changed into a cold glare. He stared at me with an icy stillness, as if he had temporarily stepped away from his body and turned it over to a robot.
Who or what had taken over my grandfather’s body?
“I think I can handle it from here,” said the cop, as he hoisted his utility belt. His voice exuded authority. Poppy’s vacant stare vanished and a look of pure tiredness took its place.
“Got him?” asked my grandfather.
“I do indeed,” said the cop. With a practiced gesture, he snapped handcuffs on the orderly’s wrists.
The knot of medical onlookers drifted away, although Zelda had recovered enough to give directions to another nurse, who hurried down the hall to check on the mermaid.
Another uniformed cop and two security guards raced toward us.
“Secure the scene here and in the hospital room,” said the cop.
Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books! Page 138
