by Linda Ellen
“Yes,” Fleet responded, “We were just talking to Taylor 9-9320 and we were cut off, and now I’m just getting a busy signal…”
“One moment please,” the voice intoned. Fleet met Louise’s eyes, clearly worried about her extremely pregnant friend, who was staring at her unblinking, both hands gripping her belly, with tears lining her cheeks. Her face was flushed and Fleet worried about her blood pressure.
The operator came back on the line. “That number seems to be out of service.”
“But…my friend was just talking to her husband and she heard a lot of noise and…” she began, but the operator cut her off.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We’ll send a technician out to check it. Thank you.”
Fleet couldn’t believe how disinterested the woman sounded! She opened her mouth to try and get the operator to understand, but clamped it shut again when she realized the woman had already hung up! “Well, how do ya like that? The hussy hung up on me!” Fleet fumed, staring at the receiver in her hand as if she wanted to reach through it and yank a piece of hair from the offending woman’s head.
Louise stood to her feet, heart pounding, and gulping in air as if she had run all the way down the street. Turning first one direction and then another, her panicked state was making it hard to make a decision as she fretted, “I’ve got to see if everything is alright. Oh…where’s my car keys…where’s my purse…” she put both hands up to her head, tears streaming.
Fleet hung up the phone and hurried over to Louise. “Now, now, calm down. Don’t get yourself in a hissy. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think…”
Louise immediately rounded on her friend. “You didn’t hear it! The awful noise, the crash, Vic yelling!” Placing one hand on her belly, she delayed a moment as she felt a twinge, but within seconds it had subsided.
Fleet noticed. “Okay, okay,” she tried to soothe, knowing she had to get her friend to calm down. “I’ll drive you…” she began, but stopped when the telephone began to ring. With a wide grin, she said, “See? I bet that’s him!” and raced to answer it.
“Hello? Vic?” she began, only to stop and listen. Nodding, she said, “Okay…but Vic’s all right…yeah…you’re kidding!”
Louise had shuffled over and gripped Fleet’s arm, staring at her friend’s face and repeating over and over, “What’s he saying? Who is it?” all the while trying to read between the words of the one sided conversation.
“Oh my goodness…” Fleet continued, holding up one finger to stave off Louise’s questions as she continued to listen to the animated caller. Up close, Louise could hear the squawk squawk of a voice coming from the earpiece of the handset pressed against Fleet’s ear. She had no idea who it was – but she could tell it wasn’t Vic.
“Yeah, okay…thanks, bye,” Fleet finally ended the call and took her friend’s hands in hers.
“Vic’s all right. That was Duke. You’re not gonna believe what happened!”
*
Vic couldn’t believe his eyes. The sight sent fear ripping through his soul.
“OH SH—!” He started to yell, but didn’t bother to complete the curse word as he flung the handset and took a flying leap that would have impressed Bob Richards, the recent Olympic gold medalist pole-vaulter. He would never have expected, in a million years, to see the big front end of Al and Goldie’s 1956 Oldsmobile 98 headed straight for the side windows, with Goldie behind the wheel, her mouth forming a perfect “O” and her eyes as round as soccer balls.
Miraculously, Vic wasn’t injured. Banged up a bit, shook up, and scared witless, yes, but otherwise intact. However, his desk and the stacks of products lined up on the windowsill were shoved out of the way by the impact. The large plate-glass windows shattered as the front end of the Olds pushed its way into the side of the station. It seemed to take place in slow motion, but in reality, Vic realized it was over in a matter of seconds.
From where he landed on the concrete floor halfway across the room, he shook his head a few times to gather his wits about him and get his bearings, just as Floyd came flying in the door. He had been out at the street changing the sign and had made a mad dash when he heard the crash. How, his eyes rounded with astonishment as he surveyed the damage.
“Great God A’mighty! You okay, Chief?” he asked his friend, rushing forward to help Vic climb to his feet.
“Yeah…I think so…” Vic began as he raised one hand to drag it back through his hair. Then, the thought clicked in his head that his brother and sister-in-law were in the car. Immediately, he and Floyd moved toward the Olds, its front end perched hazardously inside the building, while its back end was still out on the sidewalk.
“Goldie? Goldie, you okay?” Vic called as he picked his way carefully over broken glass and bits of brick and concrete, of which tiny particles and small pieces were still slowly raining down. “Al?”
“I think they’ all right,” Floyd commented, as they both could see the occupants begin to move and there didn’t appear to be any blood. Vic saw, however, that he wasn’t going to get to them from inside the office, so they reversed directions and exited the door, hurrying to the car.
Amazingly, the Olds had stopped before the windshield could be impacted, leaving the inside of the vehicle unscathed. Matter of fact, the front end hadn’t sustained much damage at all. These Olds are built like tanks, Vic mused as he carefully opened the driver’s door to find his sister-in-law sitting with both hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.
“Goldie? What happened?” Vic prompted, looking past her to his brother, who was shaking his head in amazement.
“I let this woman drive one time on this trip, and this is what happens.”
Just then, Vic realized they were drawing quite a crowd around the spectacle of a late model luxury car sticking precariously out of the glass walls of the station’s office. Floyd had circled around to Al’s side of the car.
“Oh my my my my! Eva-body okay, Boss?” Duke asked at Vic’s elbow. Vic glanced over to find the whites of his employee’s eyes impossibly large around his dark irises as he surveyed the incredible scene. “I was in de men’s room and heard de crash…what was dat woman tryin’ to do?” he asked as he took off his U-Haul cap and scratched his head.
“That’s a good question,” Vic muttered as he extended a hand and helped a shaken Goldie out of the vehicle. Al exited the other side with Floyd’s help and came around to his brother and wife as they surveyed the damage. Al stood there with one hand on his forehead, shaking his head in disbelief.
Goldie raised both hands to her face in absolute mortification, her eyes huge as she looked around at the broken glass, brick, and hanging wires. “I can’t believe I did this…” She paused and met her husband’s eyes. “We were talking…you were telling me where to park the car and you bent over…I turned my head to look at you…and thought I was stepping on the brake, but…”
“You stepped on the gas, instead,” Vic finished. They all stood there, gazing in shock at the destruction that had taken place, almost in the blink of an eye. Finally, shaking his head, Vic started to chuckle.
“I…I guess I did,” she agreed, casting a glance at her brother-in-law. His mirth began to affect her and she started to giggle. Al soon joined them, and pretty soon, all of the bystanders began to chortle and snicker, guffaw, and out right belly laugh, now that the fear of someone being injured in the mishap had passed.
“Man, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in all my life,” Vic chimed in. “I was just sittin’ there minding my own business, talking to Louise…” His eyes popped wide open and he muttered a curse word. “She’s gotta be scared out of her mind, right now – I bet she heard the crash!” He veered around several people and made his way back inside, stepping over the debris until he found his office telephone. Picking it up, he clicked the buttons on the cradle several times with no success, before grasping the wire and giving it a gentle tug. It came right to him, having been sheared off at the wall by the impact.
“Great, and I thought puttin’ it on the desk was better than on the wall in the bay,” he mumbled.
Turning to find Duke at his side, he laid one hand on the man’s shoulder as he searched his trouser pocket for several dimes. “Here,” he urged, pressing the coins into the man’s hand. “Go out to the pay phone on the corner and call my house. Tell my wife I’m all right and for her not to worry. Then, call the police. Tell ’em to call the fire department. We better get them out here, just in case.”
“Sho’ nuff, Boss. Right away,” Duke replied, nodding vigorously as he took off for the pay phone at a trot. Vic could hear the old man mumbling as he went, “My my my my my…”
Vic turned back again to survey the damage to his home-away-from-home and he shook his head in amazement.
“My my my is right. Man, what a mess.”
*
“Calm down, Louise. I told you, Old Duke said Vic’s not hurt, and neither is Al or Goldie,” Fleet tried again to get her friend to relax.
“But I just don’t understand how something like that could happen,” Louise fussed, pressing one hand to the small of her back as she waddled over to the stove and fumbled around to put the kettle on for tea, completely forgetting that she had a still warm cup on the table. “And what if Vic’s hurt, but Duke just didn’t want to upset me?” she turned worried eyes toward her friend. She felt another slight twinge and gripped the handle to the oven to steady herself for a few seconds.
Fleet let out an exasperated snort. “You believe he called just to lie? I don’t think so.” Recalling the short conversation, the veracity in Duke’s voice, and the plethora of my my my’s, she went on, “He said even though the phone line was cut and things are broke up in the office, nobody got hurt. He said the car didn’t get all the way in, and didn’t even look all that banged up. Those big Oldsmobiles must be built like tanks.” She watched her friend for a moment and reached out to pat her arm consolingly. “Come on,” she ordered gently, “Quit borrowing trouble.”
Louise stopped and hung her head, finally conceding to her friend’s urging. She turned and met Fleet’s eyes with a small smile. “You’re right,” she began, allowing the other woman to lead her back toward her chair.
They only got half way there, however, when Louise suddenly doubled over with a loud squeal, both hands immediately grasping her belly.
“Louise! Oh no, maybe you’d better sit down…or lay down…” Fleet gasped, wrapping an arm around Louise’s shoulders and trying to coax her toward the hall. But Louise shook her head, her gaze on the floor, watching as a puddle began to form. Her water had broken.
Looking up and meeting the other woman’s eyes, she mumbled, “I think it’s too late for that.”
‡
CHAPTER 19
The Rodeo Ride & The Baby
Fleet helped Louise into a kitchen chair and then hurried to the linen closet to bring back a towel to help her anxious friend dry off. Just as she reached her, Louise bent over with another contraction.
“Oh Fleet, this baby’s coming quickly!” Louise panted through gritted teeth. Fleet could only watch her helplessly as a moan escaped her lips, while she attempted to weather the pain.
When it finally began to subside, Louise looked up at her friend, thankful that she wasn’t in the house alone. However, the hormones hit with a vengeance and she was inundated with a fierce longing for her husband.
“Vic!” she gasped out. “Call Vic and tell him…” she stopped short. “Ooooh, doggone it, the telephone!”
“Do you know the number of that payphone out at the street?” Fleet countered.
“N…no, but…get the operator to connect.”
Fleet hurried over to the telephone, quickly dialing zero and hoping she wouldn’t get the same disinterested sounding operator she had the last time.
After just one ring, a friendly sounding voice asked, “Operator, how may I direct your call?”
“Yeah, can you connect me to the payphone in front of Matthew’s Service Station at 4848 Shelbyville Road? It’s right next to the Frisch’s…”
“One moment, please,” the voice responded and within seconds, Fleet could hear the ringing in the earpiece.
“It’s ringing,” she informed Louise, who was across the room, leaning forward in the chair with both hands on her belly. The phone on the other end of the line rang…and rang…and rang.
“They’re not picking up…they probably can’t hear it,” Fleet groaned, replacing the receiver and biting her lip trying to decide what to do next. “Maybe I can call the Frisch’s next door…” she mumbled, quickly dialing zero again instead of wasting time looking the number up in the book. Another operator connected her to the restaurant, but this time, the phone was busy. Fleet hung up and called Ruth and Earl’s home, but once again, their telephone merely rang with no one picking up.
“Ahh!” Louise gasped as the contraction took its toll. “Ooo ooo ewww, ahhhhh!” she growled as she ground her teeth together and tried to hold on through the sharp pains. “Oh Fleet!” she gasped again, “Do something!”
“I’ll call a taxi,” Fleet quickly offered, but Louise shook her head miserably.
“I don’t think there’s time. It feels like it’s coming!”
Alarmed, Fleet hurried to kneel in front of her panicked pal. “No! Now, you hold on, girl – you can’t have this baby here!”
“I don’t…think…I have a choice!” Louise cried, tears pooling in her eyes. “Can you…take me to the hospital?”
“Of course,” Fleet agreed, climbing to her feet once more. “Where’s your keys? I’ll go warm up your car…”
The contraction abating, Louise sat back a bit, breathing hard. “Um…in my purse…in the bedroom.” Fleet didn’t hesitate as she ran down the hall, quickly retracing her steps and pulling on her coat. Opening the front door, she called over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back…” but nearly skipped to a stop as she looked outside. “Where the heck is your car?”
Louise’s head dropped back as a memory surfaced. “Oh no, I forgot – Vic took it to the station to check the brakes when he went back after lunch. He left the pickup, right?” meaning Vic’s ’48 Chevrolet. She watched her Fleet slightly bob her head up and down. “We’ll have to go in yours, then,” Louise groaned, pressing on the table next to her as she tried to rise to her feet.
Fleet turned around, shaking her head in the negative. “It hasn’t been running good…Alec took it to Vic at the station yesterday…”
Up on her feet, Louise tried not to let Fleet’s obvious dismay make her feel even more flustered. “We’ll go in the pickup, then.” She waddled over to a hook on the wall and grabbed the extra set of keys.
“All right,” Fleet agreed, although there was a bad feeling weighing in the pit of her stomach. She hurried over to Louise and helped her into her coat. “You pack a case yet?”
Louise sucked in a breath, pressing a hand to her lower belly, and inclined her head toward the bedroom. “On the floor by the closet.”
Fleet hurried down the hall once more and came running back with the item.
“Leave a note,” Louise requested.
Fleet rushed on as she was bid and quickly scribbled something on a scrap of paper on the table, leaving it propped against the sugar bowl. “Okay, let’s get you out there. Hang on to me,” she murmured as the two shuffled slowly out the door, only pausing long enough for Fleet to lock it behind them, before continuing on.
Somehow, between Louise pulling and Fleet pushing, they managed to get her up in the cab of the old Chevy. However, if anyone had been watching, their efforts would have looked downright comical. Fleet made sure Louise was settled, firmly shut the door, and then ran around to the driver’s side. Climbing up into the cab, she reached to put the key in the ignition and froze when she saw what looked like a long gearshift lever rising up out of the floor.
“Wait – is this a manual?”
Louise felt the beginnings of another contraction
and started to moan. “Yeah, why?”
“I CAN’T DRIVE A STICK!”
Louise groaned, trying to focus on Fleet’s perturbed face. “You’ll have to!” she gasped out, adding, “C’mon Fleet, you can do it.”
“I’ll…I’ll take you to Vic…” Fleet offered, but Louise, tears once more in her eyes, shook her head. “It’s twenty minutes to the station – in the opposite direction from the hospital. I don’t think I’ll last that long before this baby pops out!”
“Oooohh,” Fleet groused, muttering a few salty words. “Okay, but if I tear the transmission out of this rust bucket, don’t blame me.”
Trying not to scream out in pain, Louise burst out instead, “I don’t care about this blasted truck. Just hurry!”
Shaking her head and wondering how she always seemed to get herself into such situations, Fleet mumbled, “Hang on,” and started up the motor. “Here we go.” Biting down on her lip, she pushed in the clutch, and put her hand on the knob at the end of the pole sticking out of the floorboard. Wobbling the loose fitting mechanism around and around, resembling someone stirring their coffee, she searched for reverse, cringing at the awful grinding noise coming from under their feet until she found the right slot. Glancing over at the grimacing face next to her, she focused again on the task at hand and tried to let out the clutch and give it gas to back up.
It promptly died.
“Dang it!” Fleet yelled. “This is why I made Alec get an automatic when I started driving!”
Nodding miserably, Louise gasped, “I know…me too…just…just try again.”
Fleet pressed her lips together and repeated the process, resulting in the motor dying three more times before she managed to back it out of the driveway. As she put it in first, she stole a look at Louise and quipped, “In between pains, you might want to be praying we get there in one piece!”
Louise tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a whimper.
Miraculously, Fleet got the truck moving forward, but quickly found out that the steering seemed extremely loose, necessitating the driver to aggressively twist and turn on the oversized wheel just to keep it on the road. The truck’s tires ran up over the curb and back down with a hard jolt, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from the passenger side.
