by Dale Mayer
Samson looked at her as he shut off the engine. “You ready?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I don’t know why I’m nervous.”
“I always am when I come here,” he said. “It makes no sense, but they’ve got that fear and intimidation tactic down pat.”
“It’s why they are successful.” Ned spoke up for the first time as he got out of the back seat.
“They do, indeed.” She hopped out of the vehicle, loving the luxury car interior. No jarring ride this time.
She’d never spent any time in a high-end vehicle. She was all about the economy cars. But then, she’d been a poor starving student. And before that, a poor starving child of a single mom. There’d never been money for extras. There’d never been money for luxuries of any kind. There had hardly been enough for the bare necessities each day.
As she walked around to the front door, he held out his hand. She didn’t even think about it. She slipped her hand in his as she stepped closer and whispered, “Are you trying to make me feel better, or are you looking for support?” His bark of laughter washed over her. She grinned. “At least I can make you laugh.”
“You make me feel a lot of things,” he muttered. He squeezed her fingers. “Not sure all of them are good though.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant.
They were approached by a large male in a black suit. He stopped them and said, “I’ll need you to register at the front desk first, if you please, sir.”
Samson just nodded and stepped to the left. There was a large registration book and a woman behind the counter. Her gaze was strong and clear. As he signed all three of their names and put the pen down, she smiled at him.
“Jamie is doing much better.”
“Is that so?” he asked in a noncommittal voice. “I presume Dr. Maddy had something to do with that.”
Immediately her smile fell away.
He nudged Whimsy. “Jamie is down here.”
Leaving the woman and the guard to stare after them, Samson and his party walked down the hall and took a left. Jamie’s door was the first on the left. Samson knocked. When there was no answer, he frowned and knocked again. He turned the handle, but it was locked. He froze and tried it again.
“Maybe they moved him.” He shot her a look. “I want you to stay right here.” He went back to the corner and called to the guard, “Where’s my brother?”
After a few moments, the guard came around the corner and, with a master key, opened the door in front of her. Samson stepped inside. Jamie was lying on his bed.
Ned walked to his side, checking for a pulse.
Samson glared at the guard. “Why was he locked in?”
The guard shrugged. “You have to ask his doctor that question.”
“Then I want to see him right now, please.” Samson’s voice was calm, deliberate but brooked no defiance on the part of the guard.
The guard frowned, and Whimsy took herself out of that conversation by slipping farther into the room. She sat down on the bedside next to the young man. “How is he?”
“Heavily drugged.” Ned’s voice was dark, anger threading through it.
Jamie’s hair was sweaty and scraggly, as if he’d fought hard before they’d knocked him out. She brushed the hair off his temple. He didn’t move.
“He’s still covered in sweat,” she exclaimed to Samson. “Whatever happened, happened recently.”
Samson studied his brother, a frown on his face.
Then he stepped forward, and she gave him her place. “Do you know what happened?”
“No,” he said, his voice soft. “And I also didn’t hear how he had a fit.”
She understood his wording but didn’t understand the meaning behind it. “Would you normally?” she ventured.
“Yes,” he said. “So I’m not sure what this is.”
Almost immediately the door opened, and a doctor walked in. Something about his face exuded arrogance, as if he wouldn’t tolerate any kind of interference with his patients. She didn’t like him.
Samson said to him, “An explanation please.”
“He was responding well,” the doctor said with that supercilious attitude of somebody who knows everything. “Then all of a sudden he had a fit. We were forced to subdue him and knock him out. He should not have visitors now. It’s obvious he can’t be moved either.”
Whimsy snorted. “How convenient.”
The doctor turned to look at her. “And who are you?”
She drew herself up to all five foot, four inches. “I’m Dr. Whimsy Connor.”
He raised an eyebrow and frowned. “Did you bring yet another doctor?”
“Which doctors have been here in the last few days?” Samson asked, standing and turning to face him. “I want a full list, and I want to know how long they were here, and how often they were here.”
“There’s only been one visitor,” the doctor said in bewilderment. “Dr. Maddy came by.”
“What did she say?”
“I was, unfortunately, not available for a consultation,” he said. “I understand she saw the patient briefly and then left. You do understand this isn’t her type of patient.”
“All patients are her kind of patient,” Samson said. “What did you give him and how long ago?”
Instead of answering, the doctor held up an iPad open to Jamie’s file. “As always, we’re completely transparent. You can have a copy of this file. Please flip through it, and I’ll make sure you get a copy emailed to you. Just leave the courtesy tablet with the check-in desk as you leave today.”
Samson read the file, swiping through the pages. “I want a complete copy of everything emailed to me now, please.” He sat down at his brother’s side, effectively turning his back on the doctor.
The doctor appeared to be unfazed by that behavior and turned and walked out, closing the door gently behind him.
“I gather you’re paying an awful lot of money to have him here?”
“Yes,” Samson said. “I didn’t want him here at all.”
“I’m surprised Dr. Maddy wasn’t here for long.”
“I’ll have to talk to Stefan about that.”
“Don’t bother,” a ghostly voice said from between the two of them. “Dr. Maddy said she had resistance every step of the way. Her words of advice to you were to get him out of here. At that point, she can work with him. But she was extremely hampered by the negative energies around here from doing a full scan on his system.”
Whimsy wasn’t sure what to do, but it seemed like Samson needed more space, so she backed up several feet and studied the glowing orb. “I just don’t understand how you can do that,” she said to Stefan, marveled by his gifts.
Stefan waved a hand, and bits and pieces of light flickered off his form. “The only reason I can do it now is both of your energies are positive and loving enough that it helps balance out all the negativity. You’ll have to get your brother out of here.”
“How do you suggest I do that?” Samson said. “According to the doctor, he had another fit and needed to be shut down.”
There was a slight hesitation before Stefan said, “Break him out.”
Samson gave a half snort. “They’ll know who did it, and they’ll come right back after him.”
“We can help, to a certain extent. But this has to be done fast,” Stefan said. “We can make it seem like he is awake and can talk but only for a limited amount of time.”
“That doctor said he was bad and needed to stay for quite a bit longer,” she said. “Any way we can discuss this issue with another doctor? Get a second opinion?” She looked at the two men. “I’ll go ask at the reception desk and take a look around. You guys do what you need to do. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” And she slipped out, walked down the hallway to the front reception area.
She smiled at the woman in the front. “The doctor was just in Jamie’s room, but I didn’t get his name. Do you have his card so we can discuss some treatment options with h
im?”
The woman smiled and handed her a card.
“Will he be available over the next week, do you know?”
The receptionist shook her head. “No, he’s going on vacation. You’ll have Dr. Roberts instead.” Again she handed another card to her.
“Oh, awesome,” Whimsy said. “We could get answers from either of these two.” As she started to turn away, she stopped. “So when is Dr. Roberts taking over?”
“He does our night shift normally,” she said. “He’ll be on at six tonight for a few hours. Then he’ll be back tomorrow morning and start on the day shift.”
“So, if we’re here at six, we can talk to him then?”
The receptionist nodded. “Do you want me to leave a note for him?”
She flicked the cards against her chin, as if wondering what she should do. “Let me talk to Samson, and I’ll get back to you.” She gave a finger wave to the receptionist and walked back to Jamie’s room, beaming a smile at the guard.
As she went around the corner, she let her smile fall away. She rapped on the door, and Samson opened it for her. She stepped inside. “Dr. Roberts will be in at six tonight. He’s taking over from the doctor here today for five days.”
Samson studied her. “How does that help?”
“It can’t hurt,” she said. “What we really need is to have somebody add a notation on Jamie’s file that he was released. Preferably by this rude doctor before he leaves his shift at six o’clock.”
A half chuckle came from the bed.
She smiled to see Jamie awake. She walked over to him. “Hi. I’m Whimsy.”
Jamie looked at her, an odd light in his eye. “I’m Jamie. Nice to finally meet you. I’m very weak without Stefan to support me. Hi, Ned.”
“Good to hear your lucid voice,” Ned said, standing closer.
“We’re going to do a getaway,” Whimsy said, “between now and six o’clock.”
“When do you think the doctor is leaving?” Samson asked.
“I should have asked,” she said. “Damn.”
She walked over to the window and looked out. “He’s leaving now.” She looked back at Samson. “But how do we do this logistically? We have to get past the security guard, and the nurse has to have authorization on file.”
Samson held up the iPad he’d been given with the open file. “What we need is for the doctor to sign off on this.”
Jamie sat up slowly. “There is a way,” he said. “But I don’t have the skills.”
“Neither do I,” Samson said.
Whimsy shrugged. “It’s probably a different system than I’ve seen before, and it depends if he’s logged out.” She took the small tablet from Samson and flicked through the file. Then she laughed. “He’s still logged in.”
Samson took the iPad from her and wrote a note on the bottom, adding a date and time. He smiled. “Well, that solves that problem.”
“Did you just say that he signed him out?”
“Yes.”
“What about when the next doctor comes on board?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter by then,” Samson said. “Jamie will be drug free, and another half-dozen specialists will have given him a clean bill of health.”
“Not to mention a class-action lawsuit in progress,” Ned added. “Why don’t you put in a note from all the doctors who okayed Jamie’s leaving? I believe you know of at least four.”
Samson looked at him in surprise. “What were their names again?” He brought up the iPad and added the names. He drew a line underneath and cleared Jamie’s move from the center at the bottom. He dated it and added the releasing doctor’s electronic signature. Then Samson asked, “Do I log out now?”
“I would,” Whimsy said.
Samson logged out.
“Does Jamie ever get outside?” Whimsy asked.
“Yes,” Jamie said. “I do. But always attended.”
“So can we get someone to take him out now?”
“Not if anybody knows the doctor has administered some calming drugs,” Samson said.
“Why don’t I see if I can get him a wheelchair,” Whimsy said. “Maybe we can wheel him out on our own and take him for a walk in the garden. It might help him to wake up, right, Jamie?”
Jamie rolled his eyes at her. “Honestly, I am tired enough that I probably couldn’t walk. But a wheelchair would be perfect.”
“Good,” she said. “That’s what it’ll be then.”
There was the guard at the corner, eyeing her suspiciously.
She smiled up at him. “I know it’s probably a silly idea,” she said confidentially, “but maybe Jamie would wake up if we took him outside in the garden for a bit?”
The guard snorted.
“It’s just that Samson came from such a distance, and his time with his brother is short, and I know he’d really like to at least have a few moments with his brother while he’s alert and cognizant of his surroundings.”
“It ain’t going to make any difference,” the guard said. “Once he’s knocked out, he’s out for hours.”
“Do you mind if I try? I know it’s probably useless, but it’s really harmless, isn’t it?”
The guard hesitated, then shrugged. “If the doctor was here, he’d have a fit, but he should be leaving anytime now. I’ll get you a wheelchair.”
Whimsy stood with the door open. “Samson, he’s getting us a wheelchair.” She gave him a bright smile. “Obviously, we can’t take Jamie out for very long, but even a few minutes would be nice.”
Samson stared at her in surprise.
She shrugged and kept a nice, placid, stupid smile on her face. The guard would see the same expression when he came back.
He returned shortly, pushing a wheelchair.
She exclaimed in delight and clapped her hands. “Thank you so very much.” She beamed up at him. “You’re such a nice man. What a great job you do. Obviously you must get along with all the patients really well.”
The man shrugged, but it was obvious he was pleased at the compliment. She could almost hear Samson snorting at her, but she ignored him and pushed the wheelchair inside. “Samson, can you lift up Jamie?”
She’d no sooner said it than he’d scooped his brother up in his arms and placed him on the seat, with Ned holding it steady.
She picked up the blanket and wrapped it around Jamie’s legs. “Does he have a sweater?”
“It’s warm outside,” the guard said.
“It is, but you know what these people are like.” She spoke in a low voice. “Nothing is quite normal about them.”
The guard muttered right back, “Ain’t that the truth.” He went to the closet, and, sure enough, there were a few items of clothing, also a big sweater.
Whimsy wrapped it around Jamie’s shoulders. “There, Samson. He should be okay now. Ned, do you want to lead the way?”
Together the group carried on out to the garden.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Samson looked at her. “What the hell was that?”
“That was me being a sweetheart,” she said, “so that poor, dear Samson can spend a few minutes with his brother, who’s in really terrible shape. And, of course, not quite normal.” She reached out and patted Jamie’s shoulder.
Jamie chuckled. “You almost had me convinced that I was unconscious.”
“Just make sure nobody sees you talking,” Whimsy said with a laugh.
They walked around outside and changed the direction a couple times so she was aware when the guard stepped out and looked to see if they were still here. They were just strolling along.
She reached up and waved at the guard. “We’re fine. Thank you.”
He gave a wave back and disappeared. Ned muttered something to Samson, then took off at a rapid clip, and Samson ducked around the side.
Samson had diverted them around the corner, into a walkway and toward a driveway leading to the front gate. Samson pushed the wheelchair up to the car. Ned, who was already there with the e
ngine running, unlocked the vehicle, and Jamie stepped out of the wheelchair, and they all hopped in.
Whimsy said, “You know he’ll be seen at the gate.”
“True enough,” Samson said. “You’ll have to hide down here, Jamie.”
“You drive,” Jamie said. “Ned can ride in the back with me. Stefan’s helping me, remember?”
They drove out to the front, where the security guard did a quick cursory check of the vehicle and let them through.
She glanced into the back seat, finding it hard to see Jamie. “So was that Stefan’s doing, or was that Jamie’s doing? Either way it’s freaking fantastic,” she said enthusiastically.
“What are they doing?” Samson asked, shooting her a quick look.
“I’m not sure,” she said, leaning over the back seat for a better look. “But Jamie is not even visible.”
In fact the blanket they had at the hospital, which was black, had blended in with the black leather.
“Jamie, it’s okay. You can come up now.”
The blanket moved back, showing Jamie’s head, and suddenly it looked like a body was lying on the back seat. He grinned at her. “Now for proper introductions,” he said. “I’m Jamie, Samson’s brother. And I am feeling pretty weak, but Stefan is great at feeding me energy to keep me going.”
“You need to let Stefan go,” she said. “Because nobody should have to keep that up for long.”
“But if he lets me go,” Jamie said, astonished, “I’ll collapse.”
“That’s okay,” she said gently. “You need to do absolutely nothing right now. It’s all in the past. We’ll get you back to Samson’s house soon enough.”
“I want to go to the island,” he said belligerently.
“I know,” she said. “I do too.”
He smiled at her, a childish smile that said so much, and shifted up onto his elbow. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she said with a nod. “How much do you have to do there?”
“A lot,” he said. “Even now the forces are changing again. We should be there, Samson,” he said, becoming agitated again.
She reached out a hand and placed it on his knee. “We’ll get there as soon as we can,” she said. “Not to worry. So let go of Stefan.”
