Chapter 25: Thicker Than Water
Biff finally let go of Amy. She sprinted to the spot where Eric and Emile fell in. Clinging to the wooden boards she leaned over and called out to the water.
"Eric! Eric…" Bubbles appeared on the surface and the unconscious body of Emile Louvel, the man, rose to the top. Biff jumped into the water and grabbed the man, pushing his body up so that Guy and Johan could pull him out. Biff submerged again and after a while resurfaced, panting for fresh air.
"It's too dark, I can't see anything."
"We are too late Allen. Our kind cannot swim. He would be at the bottom by now." Amy said numbly. She reached down and helped Biff out of the water. She did not protest as Biff sank down beside her and pulled her to his soaking wet self.
"He could walk his way out of the river, but the silver in that sword would have killed him."
"I'm so sorry Amy." Amy leaned her head against Biff's shoulder and nodded mutely. They sat there, letting the world and its chaos pass them by.
The dock was now a confusion of sounds and bright flashing colors. Law enforcement and ambulances had arrived by now. Fenton and the Royal Street police captain, Capt. Antony Bordenave, led a group of officers who were cuffing and hauling the dazed and naked Miguel and Jacques to the patrol cars, Miranda rights being read as they stumbled along.
Emile was just coming to as Capt. Bordenave chanted a laundry list of charges while two burly looking officers restrained the Were. Louvel sat there quietly as the charges were read. His jaw was swollen, possibly broken, but the scowl on his face was unmistakable.
"Emile Louvel, yer under arrest for the murder of Mozelle Ledet, for arson, for the illegal use of an explosive device, for the kidnappin' of Frank Hardy…" Bordenave looked back at Frank's battered form and continued with the addition of malicious assault. There were scads of other charges to come from the results of the explosion and damages to the other businesses in Jackson Square and the ensuing chaos throughout the French Quarter.
The first of the gurneys brought down the narrow dock hauled the wounded Emile to a waiting ambulance where the same two burly policemen joined the medical personnel in the cabin. A second group of EMT's trotted down to where Frank lay, cradled in someone's arms. Frank could barely make out the faces that swarmed above him with his one good eye. He heard his father's voice, praising G-d that he had been found, telling Frank he was going to be alright.
Frank heard another voice. I must be dying, Frank thought, this must really be the end. But the voice spoke again, and he felt familiar fingers brush his forehead, and then there was the clink of a chain. Frank raised his hand and clutched that wrist. Under his fingers he felt the cool metal of a bracelet.
"Phil?"
"I'm here Frank, you're gonna be alright Baby." Frank felt the cold hard plastic of an oxygen mask cover his face. A bandage was pressed to his side, a cervical collar was put in place and one of the EMTs hollered to a police officer for a lock pick.
"We gotta get these damned things off of him so we can start an IV!"
"Sweet Shepherd of Judea! How long have these things been on him? Motherfu…"
The oxygen helped Frank a little, his vision was clearing and his father's and Phil's faces came into focus.
"Phil… I don understan'…you died. I saw you die, I held you…your blood." Phil shook his head, confused by Frank's rambling.
"It wasn't Phil, son. It was that Ledet woman. She's a shape shifter." Fenton whispered, but the EMT heard him anyway.
"Ah man, a shape shifter? G-d those folks creep me out."
"Oh shit!" Phil suddenly realized what Mozelle must have done to him during his ordeal on Bourbon Street.
"I know she's a shifter…," Frank rasped, "but how…"
"Firefighters found Ms. Ledet's body in the perfume shop's basement. She was still wearing Phil's clothes. The blast from the explosion closed a heavy basement door. It sealed her in there and protected her body from the fire."
Frank didn't even notice that the shackles were finally removed from his ankles and wrist, or that the EMT was inserting the IV line. He did feel an overwhelming sense of peace and calm.
"Sir, we've got to move him now." Fenton moved out of the way but Phil followed the EMTs to the ambulance.
"Tulane's gonna be a mess with patients from the explosion. We're gonna send yer boy to LSU. Okay?" Capt. Bordenave said as he placed a reassuring hand on Fenton's shoulder.
"Yes, um, thank you. What about Louvel and his men?"
"Don't worry, we got a special place for their kind. Those two officers who went with Louvel are werewolves too. They'll keep him in line."
"So, shape shifters, witches, Weres, vampires…you're familiar with all of this?" Fenton asked hesitantly. Capt. Bordenave gave Mr. Hardy a wide smile that contrasted sharply with his dark skin.
"Welcome to N'awlins, Mr. Hardy."
…..
"Phil! Oy mate! Is there anyway we can help?" Johan, Guy and a limping Minnie jogged over to Phil as the medics loaded Frank into the ambulance. Blood was soaking the bandage the EMTs had placed on Frank's side, and the vampires knew the wound needed closing, not to mention the smell of fresh blood was irresistible. Before Phil could answer an older medic looked out of the cabin and shook his head.
"Sorry ya'll, but it won't do no good. Weres carry a bacteria that's hella infectious and your spit won't heal it." Phil was shocked that the older man, Remy according to his name tag, had a working knowledge of supernatural medicine. His disbelief was evident on his face.
"But if one of ya'll is willing to donate, hop aboard. Just keep yer teeth to yerself. I got a shitload of silver instruments in here." He warned.
"Wait! I've got a vial…here!" Phil reached into his pocket and presented the medic with the vampire blood.
"Thanks son." Remy turned to Frank and removed the oxygen mask. "Alright Frank, you're gonna swallow this and keep it down. Ya hear?" Frank's eye fluttered open and he voluntarily opened his mouth. He grimaced when the taste hit his is tongue, but he swallowed and closed his eye.
"That won't fight the bacteria, but it'll give him a little more strength and supplement the blood loss. Alright, we're ready to roll. LSU here we come!"
Frank couldn't move his head because of the collar, but he reached out with his left hand in the general direction he thought Phil was in. Phil hopped up into the cabin and held Frank's hand in both of his.
"Phil?" He said drowsily.
"Yeah Baby?"
"Stay with me?"
"Always."
…..
The backyard was filled with the laughter and games of children playing. Laura loved Easter, Laura loved any occasion when her family gathered together and the grandkids could run and play in the backyard. Frank, Joe and their spouses were inside playing a game of Scrabble and joking around. Fenton sat beside Laura, dozing in a lawn chair. Aunt Gertrude graced her other side, knitting and smiling giddily. Poor thing had been working on that same scarf for two months now. Laura knew eventually she and Fenton were going to have to have "the talk" about getting Gertie tested for dementia or Alzheimer's. All the signs were there, it was just a matter of shaking Fenton out of his state of denial.
As she took another sip of her sweet tea, she gazed fondly at her grandchildren. Brian was the tallest of the lot, he favored Vanessa in his appearance, but he had that spirit of mischief that screamed, "I'm Joe Hardy's son alright!" Christopher was a happy child, but he tended to be a little shy, he reminded Laura of Frank when he was little. But he was quick with a smile, especially when his cousin David tackled him and they would fall to the ground in a fit of giggles. Allison was a tomboy through and through. She could keep up with Brian and challenge him to any sport.
Laura sighed. Sadly, Allison wasn't her first granddaughter and Brian wasn't her first grandchild. But she liked to think that the spirit of the little girl Joe and Vanessa lost so early in their marriage was up there somewhere looking down on her siblings and cousins watching over them. Wasn't that life? You had to taste the bitter in order to appreciate the sweet.
The breeze in the backyard picked up and a delightfully warm current of air rustled the leaves on the trees. The hyacinths in the back garden were in full bloom and their lovely aroma wafted under Laura's nose. Then she smelled something else on the breeze, something herbal. Laura didn't have an herb garden and neither did the neighbors. Dizziness overcame her and she grabbed her forehead.
"Laura? Laura, are you okay?" She looked around, the children were still playing in the yard and Fenton was still snoozing in his chair. Gertrude was knitting, but instead of that same misshapen square of burgundy, the beginnings of a pretty light blue sweater sat in her lap. Laura stared at the sweater and her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Ashleigh! Ashleigh honey, come here and bring your grandmother a glass of tea." Gertrude hollered into the house. Laura could hear shuffling in the kitchen and Vanessa's gentle voice talking to someone. The back door opened and out walked a willowy young girl with blonde hair pulled back into a long plait. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks and she held out a frosty glass of ice tea.
"Here you go Gran. Are you okay?" Laura stared at the girl as a thousand memories flashed before her eyes: Ashleigh's eventful birth, her christening, the mess she made of her first birthday cake, and countless other childhood milestones.
"I'm fine sweetheart, more than fine." She accepted the glass and the girl smiled. Ashleigh turned her freckled face to the backyard and called out to her cousin.
"Allison, wanna come in and let me braid your hair? Mom let me bring some nail polish, so I can paint our nails."
"What? No way! G-d, you're such a girlie girl." Allison called back.
"Allison Hardy! You come right here and apologize to Ashleigh! And don't let me ever hear you taking the Lord's name in vain…" Aunt Gertrude snapped in her old waspish way.
Laura was quiet as she took it all in. Something had changed. Fate had changed. How?
Laura snapped her eyes open. She was in the hospital's chapel again, the only place she could go to quietly meditate. She hopped up from her pew and dashed for the obstetrics ward. A middle aged woman with brilliant red hair was stepping out of Vanessa's room as Laura entered the corridor. She was clutching a canvas bag to her side and looked like she was trying to leave unnoticed. But Laura was in front of her before she realized anyone had seen her and the woman jumped, startled by Mrs. Hardy's sudden presence.
"Riona Magee, what have you done?"
…..
LouisianaStateUniversityMedicalCenter was slow for a Saturday night. But when the medics wheeled in Frank Hardy the place started jumping with activity. The Remy pulled the attending physician aside and discretely whispered something in his ear. The doctor nodded and turned to the nurse behind the counter.
"Call in Dr. Schwartz. This is her field of expertise." The nurse's eyes widened alarm and she dutifully picked up the telephone to page her. The medic noticed Phil's questioning gaze.
"Dr. Schwartz has experience in supernatural medicine. If I ever got mauled by a werewolf, she's who I'd want by my side." Remy whispered. Phil nodded, trusting the medic and followed Frank's gurney to a room toward the back of the emergency department.
Capt. Bordenave arrived a few minutes later with Fenton and he escorted Mr. Hardy through the department to the room where Frank was being treated in. A curtain was drawn and Phil was sitting in a chair on the other side, pale and fidgeting. Fenton could see several pairs of feet moving around the gurney, and then a blood-soaked dressing was dropped onto the floor with a wet splat. Fenton paled too at thought of his son losing so much blood. He sat down beside Phil and looked gratefully up to Capt. Bordenave.
"Thank you for all your help Captain." Bordenave shook his hand.
"Glad to help. I'll give you a call after we interrogate those three. Hope your son'll be okay, he's in good hands here." Capt. Bordenave took his leave and Fenton turned to Phil.
"What do we know?"
"Not much, other than they're scared Frank may get an infection from those tears, something about a bacteria carried by werewolves." Phil said quietly. A radiology technician poked his head in and politely asked Fenton and Phil to step out while he took a few x-rays to help determine the extent of Frank's injuries. While they waited in the hallway, they both decided now was a good time to alert everyone that Frank had been found. At least that would be some good news to end this awful day with.
…..
Dr. Bluma Schwartz was not the kind of person one would think worked in a big university hospital like LSU. She was a petite woman with olive skin, well, nothing unusual there. But she wore her black and silver streaked hair in a frizzy ponytail. A colorful tie-dyed t-shirt and cargo shorts could be seen under her white doctor's coat. And pepto-pink polished toenails peeked out of the hiking sandals she wore. If anything, she looked like she belonged in the pediatrics ward, or a veterinary clinic.
After a preliminary exam that lasted about an hour, the doctor came out from behind the curtain to address Fenton and Phil. She pulled up a chair and clapped her hands together before settling them into her lap.
"Mr. Hardy, Mr. Cohen, I'm going to start with what I'm sure of, then we'll venture into the uncertainties." Fenton straightened in his seat and Phil leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and bouncing nervously.
"Frank has a hairline fracture in his cheekbone. It's not a complete break, so no surgery is need. It should knit back just fine as long as he takes it easy and doesn't do anything crazy like jumping jacks or skydiving. But he's going to be swollen and black and blue for a while. Now…" She took a breath. "Now for the tricky bit. Um, Mr. Hardy, may I have your hand for a moment." Fenton looked at her skeptically but proffered his hand anyway. She turned his hand over and pressed her fingers to his wrist as one would when they check for a pulse. After a moment Dr. Schwartz shook her head in disappointment. "I may be shooting for the moon, but may I check you too, Mr. Cohen?" Phil let her check his wrist, but she didn't seem nearly as disappointed as when she checked Fenton.
"Mr. Hardy, you are Frank's biological father, yes?" Fenton was shocked. He had never been asked such a preposterous question. Frank looked like Fenton had been the one to spit him out they favored each other so much, even though Frank was of a slighter build than he or Joe.
"Yes, I'm pretty damn sure I'm his father." Fenton answered crossly. "Where are you going with this? And what does checking our pulse have to do with Frank…" Oh my, thought Dr. Schwartz as the worried father continued to rant. If Mr. Hardy has no clue why she would be asking these questions, then it certainly wasn't her place to let the cat out of the bag. She had to think of a delicate way to get her point across.
"Is Frank's biological mother still living?" Fenton was fretted that the doctor had evaded his question.
"Yes, she's in New York with our other son and his wife."
"He has a brother? That's great! Mr. Hardy, you son has a… unique element in his blood. I was checking to see if you or Mr. Cohen shared it."
"By touching us?"
"Let's just say I have a knack for it." Dr. Schwartz cleared her throat and began again. "We're going start him on some powerful antibiotics through his IV to curtail any possible infection from the werewolf mauling. And we'll also begin a transfusion with donor blood to replenish the blood loss. But it would be best if either his mother or brother could come down here as soon as possible."
…
Author's Note:
Hey ya'll. Wanna do something fun? Let's cast your favorite celebs in the rolls of your favorite Hardy Boys characters.
I'll get the ball rolling with this tidbit. When I was writing "Some Nights" I modeled Old Man Hooper after actor Sam Elliot. I had other celebs or personalities in mind while I was working on the other characters, but I'd like to know what you all imagine as you're reading.
Don't be shy, I don't bite, and if you wish to remain anon that's fine, but let's get the conversation started.