Thanks for the reviews n your patience. If you send a review, you might find yourself in the story.
Today's review character is Nurse Doyle. God bless, Shepherd
Pov Frank
How could I oversleep today? Joe was finally getting out of the hospital. One month in the hospital was a new record for my brother. I spent the month at Joe's bedside, trying to distract him. Especially when his pain meds wore off and it wasn't time for the next dose.
The worst part was this was my fault. Joe got hurt when I should have had his back. The surgeon gave Joe a five percent chance of surviving. When Joe slept, I worked on my computer. Sleep didn't come easy to me. I hated seeing Joe in so much pain. He tried to hide it but I noticed his clenched fists under the thin hospital blanket.
My pain was emotional. Joe had almost died on my watch. What kind of partner was I? If Joe had died … I can't go there.
Did Joe hate me as much as I hated myself? Staying awake was easier than facing my nightmares.
I pulled my black BMW into traffic. A skateboarder rolled down the sidewalk. I pictured Joe doing tricks on his skateboard. My smile faded when I pictured Joe lying in his hospital bed. Until Joe had physical therapy even walking was difficult.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot twenty minutes later than usual. And that's with skipping my trip to the bank. The banking has to be done today unless I wanted to keep carrying a check for $50,000 in my wallet and have our business account overdrawn.
More guilt hit when I walked through the hospital lobby. My stomach clenched. Joe almost died here. I hated this place.
I smelled hospital food. Joe claimed the hospital cook was trying to give him food poisoning. Judging by the runny eggs and burnt toast, Joe might have been right.
I had too much nervous energy to wait for the elevator. I ran up four flights of stairs. A hungry Joe was not a happy Joe. I hoped he was behaving himself.
"I'm not eating it!" Joe shouted.
"You will or you won't be released," Nurse Roif said.
Nurse Roif was a cross between a drill sergeant and a pit bull. I put myself between Joe and the nurse. "I know how busy you are," I said. "How about I make sure he eats breakfast?"
"You have five minutes," Nurse Roif said before leaving.
One month hospitalized had pushed Joe past his limit. I placed a hand on Joe's shoulder and checked the clock. With thirty minutes until his next dose of pain meds, Joe was definitely uncomfortable.
I took Joe's breakfast out of my briefcase.
"Eat this," I said and handed Joe eggs and toast in a plastic container.
Joe inhaled the food. I wrapped the inedible hospital food in a napkin, stuck it in my briefcase and walked to the bathroom down the hall. I flushed Joe's hospital breakfast, just like I had for the past month.
Nurse Roif pushed a cart into the room. "He has to drink this before he's released." She put two pitchers full of water on Joe's bed table, smiled and left.
Mobility and eating were hard for Joe. He had clearance to start physical therapy tomorrow. "Witch," Joe muttered the door. "Yes, but she's the witch who is releasing you," I said and pulled a hand through my hair.
Joe's blue eyes filled with hopelessness. Technically this was my fault. If I hadn't overslept none of this would have happened. And if I had taken better care of Joe he wouldn't have been stuck here for a month.
Nurse Doyle, my favorite nurse, entered with Joe's pain medicine. Joe swallowed the pills without protest, so I knew he was hurting.
"Roif's on the warpath this morning," Nurse Doyle said.
"What's Nurse Roid's problem?" Joe asked.
"Rumor is her house is built on an ancient Indian burial ground," she said.
Joe cracked a smile. For a minute everything was normal. Joe wasn't badly injured because of me.
"Since she is the head nurse, you have to dispose – I mean drink - this before you're released," Nurse Doyle said with a smile.
Nurse Roif walked in the room. "Don't you have patients to check on? If you have too much downtime I can assign you more duties."
Nurse Doyle left.
"You have ten minutes to drink this,"Nurse Roif said. "Don't dump it out the window. I always check." She left.
"No way can I drink this," Joe muttered. "I'm never leaving this place. Probably die of old age here."
The defeated look in Joe's eyes killed me. The hospital didn't have a room with a bathroom free. No sink or drain in sight. I couldn't even get the pitchers to the hall bathroom without Nurse Roif spotting me.
Eight minutes later Nurse Roif entered. When she saw the empty pitchers her eyes almost popped out. She looked out the window, but didn't find anything. I handed her Joe's signed release form and pushed his wheelchair into the hall.
"Do you need to visit the restroom before you leave?" Nurse Roif asked.
"Sure," I said.
"No, we're good," Joe said.
"I'll walk you out," Nurse Roif said.
Five long minutes later Joe got into my new car.
"Don't forget this," Nurse Roif said and put a folded walker on top of Joe .
Before Joe could react, I slammed his car door. We had to get out of here. Now.
I drove 30 mph in the hospital zone, just like the signs said. But I wanted to floor it. "I can't believe we got away with it!" Joe said.
"We? I drank all the water," I reminded Joe as I drove over the Barmet Bay Bridge.
"I was with you in spirit," Joe said. He rolled down his window and tossed the folded up walker out. It landed in the bay and sunk. I hid a smile. I had to keep Joe's spirit intact without damaging him physically. I was walking a tightrope without a net.
"So, another black BMW," Joe said.
"Kind of busy at the hospital so I kept car shopping simple," I said. "Next topic."
"Look at all that water," Joe said. "Sloshing around."
"Shut up," I mumbled as two pitchers full of water jostled in my bladder.
"Look someone has a sprinkler watering their lawn," Joe said and pointed.
I grit my teeth. I had to find a bathroom soon. No, immediately.
"Hey, can we stop and get a Big Gulp with extra ice?" Joe asked.
"I can kill you and make it look like an accident," I said. "Probably get off on justifiable homicide."
"Hey Frank, how much water do you think the Bayport Water Tower holds?" Joe asked and pointed at the tower.
I wanted to kill Joe, but I had missed my brother. In the hospital, Joe's fight with pain left a shadow of himself. I was scared Joe would never joke with me again.
Bayport Bank was straight ahead. I could do my banking and find a bathroom. I pulled into a parking place. Joe opened his car door.
"You need to rest your leg," I said.
"I'll hop," Joe said.
I gave up and unlocked the car trunk. I pulled a set of Joe's old crutches from the trunk. Joe was about to do a face plant on the sidewalk when I caught him and dropped the crutches.
"Dude, I haven't seen these since high school," Joe said.
"They were in mom and dad's attic buried under a mound of junk," I said and handed Joe the crutches.
I watched him take an unsteady step with the crutches. Joe was usually good on crutches, but a month in the hospital took a lot out of him. I grabbed him as he wobbled.
"I can do it," Joe said.
"Of course you can," I said as I put my arm around Joe and walked to the bank.
Slowly we crutched toward the door. I held it open while Joe wobbled inside. I spotted the bank president's office.
"Frank, it's good to see you," Mr. Roberts said as he showed us into his office.
I helped Joe into a leather chair. I put his crutches on the floor. Finally I collapsed into a second leather chair.
"You have a chia pet?" Joe asked.
"Yes, my mother in law gave it to me," Mr. Roberts said.
"Figures," Joe muttered.
I stared at the chia Abraham Lincoln with green hair. Joe hated Chia Pets. They always ended up broken when he was around. I shot Joe a death glare.
"Do you have to water it a lot?" Joe asked and smiled.
I would kill him later. Slowly. Painfully.
"Mr. Roberts, could you deposit this in agency's business account?" I asked as I put the $50,000 check on his desk. "And would you direct me to the bank's bathroom?"
"0f course," he said. "You can use my private bathroom."
I shot Joe one last glare. I looked from Joe to the Chia Pet. Joe smiled.
"I told him to go before we left," Joe said as I closed the door. Minutes later I felt much better. I heard gunfire and shouting when I was drying my hands.
I opened the door. A man wearing a clown mask pointed a gun at Joe and Mr. Roberts. I knew the game. The thug wanted someone weak for a hostage. He needed someone pregnant, old or… on crutches.
I saw the gleam in the man's eyes as he zoomed in on the crutches I left by Joe's chair.
The thug and I ran to Joe from opposite sides of the room. Joe tried to stand. When he put his weight on his injured leg, Joe fell.
The clown reached Joe seconds before me. He grabbed Joe by the hair and pulled him to his feet. The clown slipped his arm around Joe's neck and pointed a gun at Joe.
"Why do you care?" the clown asked me.
I kept quiet. Telling this guy Joe was my brother would be signing Joe's death warrant.
The clown shot a bullet in the wall an inch from Mr. Robert's head.
"They're brothers," Mr. Roberts said as sweat rolled down his forehead.
The clown tightened his arm around Joe's neck, looked at me and smiled.
