CH 126

There was nothing that was going to make Dr. Kimble happy, Bob had figured that things he had Bob order needed time to get here. Bob did get the non-permeable wall coverings ( laminated bathroom wall panels) and Kimble hated the color. Bob thought light green was OK, but Kimble wanted white or light blue, which Bob wasn't able to find. At Bob sating he'd paint the walls, Kimble had a fit. When Bob cleaned everything, the place smelled. When Bob aired it out, it was dirty. When the proper examining table came, it didn't have the paper to roll down for each patient.

Even Bob's cooking sucked, from what Kimble said. The room Bob gave him was dirty, and the bathroom too was never clean. Even though Bob cleaned it daily.

There was also nothing that was going to keep Ellen away. Bob figured that out too. Luckily (maybe) Bob was so busy cleaning and trying to satisfy Kimble, he didn't have a minute to spend with her. Ellen was going to wash the floor of the clinic for Bob, and Kimble went nuts that she did it on her hands and knees.

A Mer man came up on the dock that had a swollen wrist. Seeing how Kimble was in the unsatisfactory clinic mumbling about there wasn't enough supplies yet, Bob got an ace bandaged and wrapped his wrist up and told him not to use it for a few days, just go rest. If it got worse he was to come back. Bob was coming to a conclusion that Kimble could do nothing but complain.

Even the emotionless terminators didn't like Dr. Kimble.

Two weeks after Kimble arrived, Bob got a call from Joan telling him they were going to the playoffs. He wished them luck.

"Bob, you don't sound happy," Joan noted.

"I am happy for you, it's just been very busy around here," he explained in a tired voice. "The, ah, mermaid clinic is taking up all my time. In fact, I'm on my way there now."

"That wasn't suppose to be a full time job for you, was it?" Joan asked.

"It is for the moment. We're still getting it set up." Bob told her. Out in the lake, he saw three heads come up near the east end, swimming very close together. The outside two looked to be holding the middle one up. "Joan, I think we got a problem, I'll call you back." He raced to the dock and yelled for Kimble on the way.

The mermaid in the middle had mostly gray hair. It looked like she was gasping for breath. Her eyes were wide in fear.

"Doctor Kimble, we need you!" Bob yelled.

An older Mer man was on one side of the woman, Ellen was on the other side of her. When they got to the dock, Bob knelt down and leaned over to pull her up and on. He nearly fell in the water, but he got her up and into a bride's carry. "Doctor Kimble!" Bob yelled again.

"Whaddaya want?" Kimble barked and stuck his head out the door.

"We got a mermaid here that is having a hard time breathing!" Bob replied firmly.

Kimble stared at the mermaid.

"Move!" Bob barked, carrying her. If he didn't move, Bob was going to knock him over.

Kimble did move back inside. Bob hurried past and put her on the examining table. The mermaid was breathing in tiny gasps. "What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know, I'll try to find out," Bob replied. He went to leave and Ellen and the Merman were in the doorway. The merman mimicked eating then choking. "She choked while eating," Bob relayed.

Dr. Kimble sat the mermaid up and got behind her and performed a Heimlich maneuver. He did it twice. Whatever she was choking on didn't come up. He quickly laid her back down and got his equipment tray and grabbed an optic probe off it. "Bob, I need help here, keep her mouth open!"

Bob did, making cooing sounds as he coaxed her mouth fully open, her head back.

Kimble put the scope down her throat. Her eyes rolled. "Was she eating fish?" he asked.

"Most likely, that's what they eat," Bob said.

Dr. Kimble grabbed a long thin set of forceps and put it down her throat with the probe. "She has a white blockage, hold her head still," he ordered.

Bob did as the mermaid grew teas in her eyes. Her breathing was nothing more now that weak attempts. she was relaxing, her eyes drifted shut.

Dr. Kimble then pulled a fish bone from inside her throat and pulled his instruments out. He then gave her a few breaths mouth to mouth.

Her eyes flew open and she took she own deep breath and clutched at her throat.

"OK now," Bob assured her.

"Bob, get her a glass of water," Dr. Kimble ordered.

Bob did. She was breathing now in pants, and full breaths. She moaned out something. Dr. Kimble petted her forehead. She smiled at him.

They got her sitting up, Bob gave her the water. she drank it down.

"Gumha OK?" Ellen asked.

"Gumha Ok," Bob agreed and gave the mers a thumbs up. They both relaxed.

"They need to learn not to eat fish bones," Dr. Kimble grumbled.

"They don't know a whole lot about taking are of themselves or each other," Bob told him. "They also have no tools. Not being able to breathe, it had to be tough on them to get her up from their cave to here. It's 70 feet down from what Joan says."

Dr. Kimble looked at him and said, "She could have died before they got to the surface."

"They do need much help, and they don't have health insurance." Bob told him. "The marine biologists can't help them either. If you weren't here, she would have died."

Dr. Kimble picked up the wide bone and showed it to the mers then mimicked eating and shook his head. "No eat bone!" he said firmly. They seemed to get the idea.

"How do they cook their fish?" Dr. Kimble asked Bob.

"They don't."

Kimble was horror struck. "That is very unhealthy to eat raw fish!" he stated. "Go tell your parents those mers need to cook their food, and find a way to get something down in that cave to cook it! I take it they have at lest an air pocket down there?" He then waved at Bob and said, "Never mind, I'll go tell them. Give me a ride right after they are set to get back in the water."

Bob could see he wasn't happy, but at least this time, it was about something important.

.

John was tallying up their figures for the month. It seemed too good to be true. Their investment with Barnabas was paying off, enough still were operating and making fuel to also show a profit as well as supplying the fuel to run the tanker trucks to the Lewis and Gibson farms to collect alcohol from them and supply it to the fuel station in town that was doing just as well, if not a little better than the gas station. Priced 15 cents lower than gas, the alcohol fuel was supplying much of the town now. Even after expenses, their were making a decent profit.

"Dad's in his office," he heard Jackie say.

Then Dr. Kimble came in and sat down in the chair next to John. He looked upset.

"Problem?' John asked.

"I hope you have all day," Dr. Kimble grumbled. "Before I go on about the lack of facilities or the lack of help, or the fact I was set up to be ... shanghaied here, those mers are eating raw fish! They have no way to cook their food from what I understand. That is extremely unhealthy! They are begging to catch a disease or be infected with parasites. Something must be done about it!"

John asked, "What do we do? Their primary food source is lake fish."

"Get them something to cook with, so they don't eat raw fish!" Kimble stated. "Look, you got me here to help keep them healthy. I just pulled a big fish bone from a mermaid's esophagus before she chocked and died. They need to cook and de bone the fish before they eat it. If you want them healthy, you need to get a cooking device down in that cave of theirs."

John let out a sigh. "I'll talk to Cam and see what we can get down there. That cave is deep, and mosses deeper in the cave help generate the oxygen they need to breathe. It's an enclosed system as I understand. That severely limits what can be used down there, if we can get it down there," John told him.

"Down in that cave, or make something up on a dock so they can eat there. All I know is they need safe food to eat," Dr. Kimble explained. "And I need an assistant who has a clue what they are doing. And do not blackmail them to get them here!"

John frowned at him. "Hey, you were convicted, I gave you a chance to do some good instead of sitting in a jail cell."

"After your wives set me up in the first place!" Dr. Kimble retorted. "The blonde, Delilah, admitted to it!"

John eyed him. "She did, huh? Maybe we should go ask her about that."

"Please do!" Dr. Kimble said, with a flail of his arm. "Maybe she'll tell you the details on how she did it. That secretary the sheriff has is in on it too."

"So, it was a whole conspiracy thing, huh?" John asked warily.

Delilah then appeared in the doorway. "John, we need to talk." she said firmly.

John motioned to Dr. Kimble and said, "First, Dr. Kimble here claims you and the sheriff's secretary set him up on those pedophile charges."

Delilah took on a sheepish look and nodded. "We did. We knew we had to get a true medical doctor here for the Mers. Cameron and I discovered their numbers have been slowly diminishing for a while. Small problems here and there are reducing them to the point that soon, they have no chance of recovery. Infections and accidents mostly. A few do get taken by alligators, or hurt so bad they become prey. By Deek's calculations, their clan should number around 70 to 80, there are only 31 of them. He's not concerned about them going extinct. We are. John, we needed to get help for them however we could."

John covered his mouth with a hand. "So how did Dr. Kimble get here?"

Delilah winced. "Cameron searched for the best doctor she could find within the parameters she set. Location wise, no wife or children, top grades in medical school, a good record. Anyway, After Cameron found her prospective candidates, the secretary visited them. She discovered Dr. Kimble has a kink. Not that he ever did anything, but it was there. John Henry hacked his computer and loaded the pictures into a file, the secretary sneaked into his bedroom and put the printed photos hidden in his dresser. A single e-mail out from his computer with an attachment of a naked 11 year old to an investigator looking for child porn caused the raid. After he was charged and later convicted, John Henry informed you we had a prime candidate for our doctor."

John face planted and dry washed his face. He let out a groan then slowly looked up at Kimble, then to Delilah. "I don't believe this," he grumbled.

"John, for the sake of the Mers, it had to be done," Delilah stated.

"No," John growled out. "We'll talk about that later, but what you ... arraigned and did was wrong. All of you. Worse yet, you hid it from me. I thought we were getting someone who had committed a crime, but no, he was in fact set up, then ..." John stopped and told Kimble, "I had no idea you got set up. I am sorry about that. The truth is, we do need you here. Rather, the Mers need you."

"We did what we had to do," Delilah stated.

"What we need now," John said focusing on her, "Is to get a cooking device down in the caves the Mers live in, and show them how to use it. Work on that with Cameron. Also, find out if there's another way down besides swimming through 70 feet of water."

Delilah nodded. "We'll get on it. John, I'm sorry you feel bad about how we got Dr. Kimble here. It was the only way to get a real doctor for the Mers." She then went on her way.

Looking tired, John said, "And you need a medical assistant also, right, Doctor?"

"Yes, someone who at least has nursing skills, and NOT kidnapped," Dr. Kimble said firmly.

John asked in a dull tone, "So you were treated badly. Did you want to leave?"

Dr. Kimble let out a grunt. "I can't! If I go, who's going to take care of the Mers, you?"

John looked up at him.

Pointing a finger, Kimble went on. "You well know you're not getting another doctor here if I left. Yeah, I'm angry about what was done to me, but those people, and they are people, need my help! I saw that very clearly today. I am not going to leave them to fend for themselves. What I am going to do is bother YOU every day until I can at least be assured that something as simple as a bone from a raw fish is not going to kill them. You wanted a doctor, and now you got one. So be prepared to fulfill the demands I send you so I can get those Mers decent medical attention!"

"Yes, Doctor."

Dr. Kimble got up. With a arm wave he added, "I have to go find Bob to take me back. There's too much important work to do to be sitting here yacking away."

John watched him go and breathed a sigh of relief. Dr. Kimble wasn't very personable, but he did care about the Mer's health.

.

Cameron and Delilah searched for a device to use in the Mer cave, big enough to cook food for 30 Mers, and was waterproof, and didn't use a fuel that would contaminate their air. There wasn't one to be found. No one cooked under water. Even camp stoves used a propane gas.

They found their answer in the barn. There were a few leftover power supplies meant for the tanks they had been making. A variable speed control for turning the turrets was a rheostat, that would work for controlling the heat. Going down to the hardware store, they found replacement burners for electric stoves. That some sheet metal and angle irons and some electrical insulators, and they could make nuclear powered grill. At the general store they found a couple cookie sheets and a few pans. They returned home to begin making a stove for the Mer's.

.

One of the sheriff's unofficial duties was the local employment agency. He knew everyone, and kept up on town happenings. When someone needed help, they asked the sheriff to 'keep an eye out' for someone to help them. Same with if someone, usually kids from town that just got out of school, needed a job, one of their stops was the sheriff's office.

When John called and asked about getting a nurse, the sheriff wrote down his request and put it on the bulletin board in the hallway back to the cells. The sheriff wrote down, 'Nurse needed at the small lake. Contact John Connor'. College was getting out soon, and he knew some kids wanted to get a job as close to home as possible. He figured at least one had just finished up their nursing degree.

.

One task Dr. Kimble had for Bob was to take a stack of prescriptions up to the pharmacy at the Johnson City medical center. Handing Bob the pack of prescriptions, he said, "They know you're coming, and Connor paid for them. Just go pick them up."

"Yeah, OK," Bob agreed. Seeing the 20 odd papers he asked, 'This is it?"

Kimble nodded. "It's all I can be sure of for now. Stop by the marine Biologists place and remind them I need the blood and DNA profiles they have."

"OK, Boss," replied. He wasn't happy about dong Kimble's running, but for now, he was the only person available.

The drive up to Johnson City was boring. Joan and Allison were either at practice or at a game, so he couldn't call them. It made for a long ride. He finally did get there, and found the medical center. Seeing the pharmacy, he pulled into the parking lot and went in. The place had some customers here and there. He went on the back and waited for a mother and her son to put her prescriptions in, then passed the bunch he had to the lady behind the counter.

"Doc Kimble says he needs these," Bob told her.

She looked at the scripts. "Yes, he called us earlier. Have a seat, I'll call you when their are ready."

"Name's Bob."

She grinned at him. "Bob , Mr. Tanner?"

"That's me," Bob said with a wave and went over to pick a chair near the mother and her eight year old. He settled down to wait. With nothing better to do, he looked at the notices and papers put up in the windows.

"Get over there!" a rough voice snapped, followed by a woman's yelp.

Bob frowned. What the hell? He sat up to see a young woman stumble around to the back isle with them, half covering her head. A man in a ski mask and pointing a gun at her followed. He then heard another demand of "Open the drawer!" come from the front. The man near them with the gun pushed the woman towards the row of chairs in the waiting area. "Sit!" the man snapped.

The Young woman stumbled at Bob. He got up and caught her and helped her ease into a seat.

"Sit your ass down!" the man snapped at Bob.

Bob eyed him. "Take it ease, we're not going to bother your robbery," he grumbled and sat.

Two more patrons were pushed over into the waiting area. An older couple came scampering over under the threat of another hoodlum with a gun. The one broke the door into the pharmacy area and put the attendants there on the floor.

"They gonna kill us?" the little boy asked his frightened mother.

Bob told him, "They got no reason to. We're not fighting them and we can't identify them. They'll just get what they're after and go before the cops show up."

"Cellphones, NOW!" one of the hoods demanded and held his hand out.

The mother dug for hers and handed it over. The man pointed his gun at Bob. Bob jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I left it in the car."

"NOW!" the man barked.

Bob frowned at him. "Do you really want me to go get it?"

"Here" the young woman squeaked and held her Ipad out. It was snapped up. The old woman dug out her large-buttoned phone. The crook took that, then grabbed the life-alert pendant around her neck and ripped it off. The gun turned back on Bob. "Yours, NOW!"

"I don't have it!" Bob cried. "It's in the friggin car!"

"I want it now!"

"So, you want me to go get it?" Bob asked.

"Stand up!" another crook said.

Bob stood up. Holding a gun on him, they patted him down and yanked his wallet out. Bob snapped his wallet away from the man, which made three guns point at him. Bob took his money out and offered it. "You want my cash, fine, I don't have any credit cards but I do need my licenses." He put his wallet away. One of the men grabbed his money.

"Sit down!" the man snapped.

Bob sat down with a huff. "Just hurry up and get done and gone. I got other stuff to do today."

"Sit and shut up!" a hood snapped.

The one with the orange jacket said, "Never mind him! Get the back door!"

Another one came running back. "We got the cash, let's go!"

"We still need the drugs." another said. They ran into the back behind the counter.

Bob saw the mother was shaking. "Calm down, they'll be gone soon," he coaxed. He then saw red and blue lights flashing off the upper part of the wall. "Shit," he grumbled and face planted. The cops were here. This was going to be a drawn out fiasco.

The crooks noticed the cops too. The back door slammed shut. One voice whined, "They're here already! You said we had seven minutes!"

"Stay down, get a couple people up so they can see we got hostages!"

One of the crooks came out low. He pointed the gun at the mother. "You, on your feet!"

Bob got up and stepped in front of her. He raised his hands. "Where do you want me?" he asked in a tired breath.

"I want the woman to stand up!"

"You got me. Just keep in mind, if any of you kill anyone, you're just digging a deeper hole," Bob stated.

"Walk to the front of the isle, MOVE!"

Bob did, heading for the front of the store he saw three police cars in the lot, and two more appear. He also felt the man that was now in back of him push him a bit further to the front of the isle. Hearing sobbing, he saw the young woman was standing in the next isle over, looking like she was ready to collapse.

"I suppose you guys won't just give up, huh?"

A gun poked into his back. "Shut up!"

Bob noticed a uniform officer peeking in low at the glass entry door. Without turning his head looked at him and slowly pulled his thumb in to indicate 4. The officer backed out of sight.

A bullhorn called out. "This is the police. Come out unarmed, hands in the air and you will not be harmed!"

A phone rang behind Bob. It rang quite a few times, no one picked up. "You might want to get that," Bob said.

"SHUT UP!" the man behind him snapped.

"Jack, what do we do?" one of the men called from behind.

"Better give up, Jack," Bob offered.

"If you don't shut up, I will shoot your dumb ass!" Jack growled.

"You know the cops are looking down this isle. Do you really want to be charged with murder?" Bob asked. Behind the glass door, a mirror or some kind of optic was peeking inside.

The bullhorn sounded again. "You are not getting away. drop your weapons and come out with your hands up. This is your last chance!"

"No, we got hostages," Jack growled. "Long as we got you, they won't come in and get us."

"Never heard of snipers, huh?" Bob asked.

"One more word, and you're dead!" Jack snapped.

Bob grew a smirk. "I'm already dead. Died two years ago now."

"So, asshole, you don't mind if I shoot you again then?" he asked in a hard tone.

"It'll still hurt," Bob admitted, "But then, I'll turn around and beat your ass bloody."

"You're fucked in the head, fella."

"By the number of cops outside, and ... yeah, there's a sniper, you're the one that's fucked, unless you and your buddies give up," Bob replied.

The Bullhorn announced, "A man is coming in to negotiate!"

"Hah, see we'll get out, we got hostages!" Jack said.

"No you won't," Bob stated.

The gun poked hard into Bob's back, "You'll be the first to die if we don't."

"Been there, done that," Bob replied.

"Think I'll shoot you anyway!" Jake growled.

"Then prepare to get your ass beat."

A man in police armor appeared, hands up on the other side of the door. "Let me come in and talk to you!" he called.

"One more step and I kill him!" Jake roared.

"Then you'll be charged with murder! Right now, it's just robbery and weapons charges. Be smart, you're surrounded, you're not getting out!" The cop called.

"I want a car out front, and back the cops up or we start killing hostages!" Jake roared.

"No, give up!" the cop yelled back.

"Then watch this guy..."

Jake was interrupted when Bob spun, grabbed his gun hand and punched him hard in the face. Jake recoiled and hit the floor limp. Bob eased him down set the gun down, and put a finger to his lips to signal quiet. The cop nodded.

Hands up, Bob walked over to the isle where the young woman was being held. The man behind her looked nervous. Bob jerked a thumb behind him and offered, "Jake wants to see you. Whisper something I think."

The man swallowed and moved out a bit. Bob grabbed his gun arm, twisted and punched him hard in the face. The woman yelped and turned around to see Bob lower the man to the floor.

Pointing to the exit, Bob whispered, "Walk out, easy pace no noise."

The woman nodded quickly and left. The cop opened the door for her and shielded her on her way out.

Hands in the air, Bob walked down the isle. Ahead of him was the open door to the pharmacy area. The hooded man in orange appeared and pointed his gun at Bob. "Stop or I'll kill you!" he commanded.

"Already dead," Bob replied. "You shoot, I'll break your arm and beat you senseless."

"One more step and I shoot!" the man barked.

"Just put it down and avoid pain," Bob replied.

The man shot. women screamed. Bob took the shot in the chest. He looked down and frowned at the man. The man shot again. Bob charged him.

Backing up, the man shot twice more. Bob ran the distance in that time and grabbed his gun hand. A knee up and forcing the man's arm down, and Bob broke his elbow. The man screamed. So did Bob as he beat the man's face in.

"THAT FRIGGIN HURT!" Bob screamed at him. The man's only reply was to drop limp.

"What the fuck?" a weak voice asked.

Bob turned to see behind the counter was the fourth man with a gun, staying low. The counter woman was also gaping at Bob just beyond him.

"You should be dead," the man squeaked.

Bob growled, "I am. I still hate getting shot. You can drop that gun, or I can put you in a world of hurt." He walked slowly to the cowering man. "Elbows, knees, some ribs, ugly up your face. I will take the day just to keep hearing you scream in agony." Bob walked up and leaned over the wide-eyed man. "Drop. The. Gun."

The man tossed his gun away.

Bob stood up. Seeing cops peeking out from the ends of the isles, he waved them forward. "They're down, come get'em."

"You... You've been shot!" the woman in the corner cried as she stared at him.

Bob looked down at the blood on his shirt. "Yeah. Shirt's ruined."

The police came in, collected the guns and handcuffed the only conscious gunman. To the counter lady, Bob asked, "Can I get those prescriptions filled now? Oh, and a couple band aids too." He pointed at his shirt.

.

Although Bob assured there was no need to, the police had him go out to an ambulance. He wanted to wait until he got Dr. Kimble's order, but they pushed him outside. He tried to tell the medics just to pull the bullets out. Nope, he had to lay on the stretcher, got his shirt ripped open, a big bandage put on his chest and after a rush to the hospital, a harried looking doctor wanted to 'get him into surgery'.

"Doc, please just pull the bullets out!" Bob begged.

"You don't want anesthetic?" the doctor asked.

"No, they itch like crazy, just get them out please."

The doctor did, carefully using forceps to remove all four bullets, then cleaned the wounds and stitched the holes closed.

"Can I go now?" Bob asked.

"You have to fill out some paperwork," the doctor told him. "None of those bullets went much deeper than skin and some muscle tissue. Do you know why?"

Bob shrugged. "Bad rounds maybe?"

Bob bought a smock with the hospital's name on it so he had something besides a bloody shirt to wear then sat down and charged his visit to Joan's credit card. He got the paperwork filed out and was finally set to get out of there.

Going to the lobby, he saw the counter lady from the pharmacy in the lobby. She got up, holding a large bag and held it out to him. "Your prescriptions," she said, gazing at him.

"Thanks, everything's there?" he asked and looked in the bag.

She nodded, keeping her light brown eyes focused on him. When he left, she came along, so he opened the doors for her.

Out on the sidewalk heading back to the pharmacy with him, she asked, "You told that man you were dead. The one who shot you killed you?"

Bob chuckled. "No, that just hurt. I died a couple years ago. I was coming up from underwater and a speedboat whacked me in the head." With a grin, he added, "I got the nickname boat-faced Bob." Seeing her eyeing him, he said, "I didn't stay dead. I woke back up not long after."

"So ... you can't die," she concluded.

"Guess not," he agreed. Looking at her, he noted her honey-brown hair, light brown eyes and squarish jaw. "Are you related to Kathy Ireland?" he asked.

"Who?"

"Never mind. You just look kinda like her."

"Who's Kathy Ireland?"

"Movie star, model a while back. She did a lot of Sports Illustrated stuff," he said with a shrug.

She giggled. "So, Boat-face Bob, I look like a movie star?"

"To me you do."

"What's all the drugs for?"

"Today I 'm a Doctor's running boy," Bob said with a sigh. "Well, kinda every day. He hates the world and takes it out on me. When I get back after my fun day here, I'm sure the entire place is filthy and it's all my fault."

"That means you'll be coming back this way?"

"I doan know, it's not very friendly at your pharmacy," he said in a drawn out musing tone.

"We'll try to keep the riff raff out," she assured him with a grin.

Coming to his car, he stopped and said, "Thanks for bringing these. I appreciate it."

"I was heading off to lunch," she said, "You're welcome to come."

Bob offered her a brief smile. "I'd like to but I got a angry doctor waiting to abuse me. See you later."

"See you later, Bob." she said with a smile and a wave of he fingers.

"Later," he replied with a wave.

Bob pulled out and drove away. He didn't notice her smiling at him as he left.