Drip, drip, something was dripping. The rain, of course, where they had left her on the pavement, was falling still. Only that could not be it, for her back was cushioned, held. Consciousness was coming back slowly, like waking up from a deep, drugged dream. For a moment, her mind conjured the dreadful notion that she was back on Sanitarium Island, coming out of one of her fainting spells under the watchful eye and guidance of her father. Instead: blinding white light, green walls, strange blips and beeps.
"Shilo."
She turned to the voice, expecting Graverobber and finding her companion for the evening, the Senator.
"Senator!" She made a motion to cover herself and found that her clothes were gone, replaced with a white hospital gown, fastened unevenly so her back was exposed. She slunk down against the starchy pillow. "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't very well abandon you."
"What happened? I… I fainted?"
"Yes." He put a hand on her exposed, thin arm, and instinctively she pulled back, though the gesture was harmless, meant to be comforting. "There is something I have to tell you. I spoke with the doctor, and…"
"My heart's failing, isn't it," she said faintly. Even as he looked away, preparing to tell her the terrible news, she felt nothing. Graverobber should be here, she recognized faintly. He would want to hear this, too, and feel the worry and distress she somehow could not. But did she even owe him that? He'd hurt her, badly. I don't even know who you are. How could he not? All those nights together, in anger and in love, and he wanted more from her? What if there was nothing more to give?
"Yes," he confirmed. "It was the pollution of where you came from, they believe. It was a ticking bomb, and all the excitement of late must have been a strain. They'll have to operate, soon as they get a release from your parent."
"Who, Graverobber?" She laughed, chalk in her throat. "He's not my dad. I can't believe you'd think that. Senator, my father is dead. He was shot by Rotti Largo before he died. I thought the reporters would know this."
"Of course, but I thought Mr. Graverobber might be an uncle of sorts. But he has no legal claim to you, is that what you're saying?"
Her forehead creased in concern. "What do you mean 'claim?' I'm not a piece of property."
"No, no of course not. But there are legal issues. Someone has to sign off on your surgery, and you're too young to do so."
She shrank back further against the pillow. "How long do I have?"
"Don't worry about that; you're safe for now. You're safe here. Here, take my hand. You're shaking."
Shilo held out her trembling hand, and he clasped it with his smooth, manicured one. "I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. "You're too valuable to me."
That helped. She relaxed some, but still… where was Graverobber?
Graverobber was moping around the apartment: juggling fruit, rearranging the furniture, playing with Shilo's panties that, regretfully, were not filled with Shilo. The Senator was too cool a cat to be trusted, though that could be said for Graverobber himself. Too smooth; everyone fell for his charms. Except for Shilo. No, when she fell for him, it was for real, real serious shit, and… he'd let her down. Amber could handle the way he treated her, but Shilo was no Z whore, numbed to all manner of pain and pleasures. No, she'd experienced it all at his hands.
She deserved better. And he would do better, from now on. No more angry fucks, no more lofty expectations.
Matter resolved, he settled in front of the television and watched a cartoon about a grumpy snail. It turned into a love story and he about yacked. This was a kids' show, for God's sake, did they have to turn it into this dreck?
Mildly aggravated now, the news seemed a better option. The misfortune and bullshit of others always cheered him up, and he could spin it into a bedtime story for Shilo. How he loved to narrate and spy. And stay well-informed on local matters.
The weather, blah blah blah sunshine, blah blah blah mid seventies. He preferred the gloom and dank temperatures of the island.
What celebrities were together, what gossip could they scrounge up… and an ambulance, the Senator hopping up to get inside before it took off. Graverobber turned up the volume and leaned in, suddenly interested. Shilo had gone out with the Senator a few hours ago… and not returned. A vise tightened around his heart. A prayer, a memory, a homage to his father's legacy, danced around in his mouth like a song.
Please, let her be alright.
A reporter appeared and began her report.
Shilo had suffered a heart attack and was rushed to the local hospital.
Graverobber was out the door with his coat before she concluded her report. And every "Shit, goddamn, shit" that tumbled from his mouth sounded like a desperate prayer to him.
He stepped in front of a taxi when none stopped for his impatient whistle. The driver swore loudly out the window at him.
"Take me to the hospital. Bill the hotel," Graverobber snapped, getting in. "And step on it. My girlfriend's in trouble."
"If it's a Repo Man, boy, you're probably too late," the driver told him. "Trust me, man, I know from experience. Lost my son to a spine. Walked in on the scene. That's the reason I live to drink."
"It's not like that. Shut up, will you? I need to think."
Heart attack, heart attack… why on earth would Shilo, of all people, have a heart attack? She was only seventeen years old, young, and of course healthy… practically acrobatic. It didn't make any sense to him. Perhaps the Senator had poisoned her, yeah, perhaps he had. Graverobber seized on that idea.
Except… how had he poisoned her without her noticing? She was a sharp girl, good reflexes and all that.
Then again, it's not like she was new to older men pulling the wool over her eyes when it came to hidden poisons. And she, for whatever reason, trusted the Senator, and had almost immediately done so upon meeting him. He'd seen it in her eyes, the fascination, and he had tried to pretend it hadn't hurt him. She was a kid. Of course she was going to have celebrity crushes. He just wanted all of her affections.
It had taken Graverobber ages to earn her trust and affections. He would be damned if that Senator was to undo all his hard work and progress with his prettyboy charms and so-called status.
Shilo knew better than to fall for that, didn't she?
Possible, then, that she had been poisoned, if not by the Senator, then by some other evildoer who needed to be taken down. First, he had to see to Shilo, and make sure the hospital was taking care of her.
The streets passed slowly. There was traffic, at this time of day. He cursed.
And that damned good weather.
Finally, he reached the gleaming hospital, with green ivy and pink flowers. He crushed a daisy in his hand, in his anxiety. The volunteer at the front desk gave him a name tag and a room number, along with instructions to the Wallace girl's room.
Graverobber rushed into the room, Shilo's own private room, and stormed up to the Senator, standing calmly by the window, looking out at the window. He huffed, puffing up his chest before jabbing a finger in the shorter man's snooty face.
"You!"
"Me?" the Senator said, bemused.
"This is all your fault; this wouldn't have happened if not for you."
"Graverobber!" Shilo protested loudly. "Stop! You're embarrassing me… and everyone else, too."
It was then that he realized nurses and doctors were in the room, fussing over her, examining the machines she was hooked up to, consulting with each other.
The Senator pulled Graverobber aside, into the hallway, as Graverobber shot a concerned look over his shoulder at Shilo.
"What?" he growled, out in the hallway.
"As a minor, Shilo needs a guardian to sign for any surgeries," the Senator said. "and she's informed me you are not, in fact, a blood relative."
"Surgeries?" Graverobber asked.
"Yes, for her heart. It's weak. Failing, actually. The girl's agreed to it, but the laws are different here. And, sir…" He took hold of Graverobber's forearm and squeezed, leaning in and menacing with his air and voice. "Seventeen is too young to consent," he said with a warning in his voice. With that, he let go and straightened.
Refusing to be rattled, Graverobber snapped, "No surgery, no way, not ever. Not for her, forget it."
He went back in the room and navigated through the machines to sit by Shilo's side. She looked at him warily.
"Graverobber, what the hell was that? The Senator's been perfectly nice to me, you didn't have to yell at him."
"Kid, I'm really sorry for my behavior. For all of it." And he held her hand through the night until they both were sleeping sound.
