Janet arrived at the Denton Convalescent Center, signed in, and went directly to her grandmother's room. The old woman, while happy to see Janet, nonetheless immediately launched into a seemingly endless list of complaints. The food was terrible. The nurses were lazy and inattentive. The physical therapists were rude. This performance was typical of her grandmother, and usually Janet was able to muster a considerable amount of patience while listening to her. Today, however, it took every bit of self-control Janet possessed to keep from snapping at her to shut up, and then walking out of the room.
Finally, after almost two hours of a virtually nonstop litany of grievances, a nurse's aide arrived to bring her grandmother down to physical therapy. Simultaneously sighing with relief and trembling with anxiety, Janet cautiously set off down the mazelike hallways in search of a room with an armed guard. She had no idea how she'd get past the guard; she hoped inspiration would strike.
Fortunately, when at last she found the room in question, it turned out inspiration was largely unnecessary. There guarding the door was Larry Owens, a former classmate of hers from Denton High School. A brawny young man, he'd been a star fullback on the Denton High football team. As Janet had been on the cheerleading squad, she'd gotten to know Larry fairly well. He was very friendly, but not overloaded with brainpower. That would make things easier.
"Larry! How have you been?"
Larry looked over at her with a delighted smile. "Janet! Great to see you! Lookin' good, babe!"
Janet giggled. "You're looking pretty good yourself, Larry. Still working out?"
He nodded proudly. "You bet. It comes in handy with this kind of work. Never know when you'll have to overpower someone. Anyway, what are you doing here?"
Janet replied, "Well, a couple of reasons, actually. My grandmother is in here, so I came to see her. And Dr. Scott asked me to stop in and see…your prisoner in there. Frank."
Larry looked surprised. "You know that guy?"
Janet hesitated a moment. "Well, we've met. Dr. Scott says he refuses to talk, and thinks that maybe he'd be more willing to talk to a woman. So here I am." Janet was taking the chance that Larry lacked the initiative to verify her story with Dr. Scott. Fortunately, her hunch was right on the money.
"Hell, I know I'd sure be more willing to talk to you than Dr. Scott. Go on in. If he tries anything, just scream and I'll be right in there."
"Thanks, Larry." Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, entered, and closed it softly behind her.
Almost hesitantly, she looked over at the bed. The young man lying there, sound asleep, was virtually unrecognizable as the person behind the glittering, strutting creature she'd encountered in the castle. A hospital gown replaced the sequined corset, and naturally his face was devoid of makeup. Janet was startled at how much younger he looked without it. Other than a small cut on his forehead, there was not a mark on him – at least that she could see – to indicate what he'd been through. He looked beautiful, vulnerable and…she shook her head slightly at the staggering incongruity of the idea…innocent. "Don't judge a book by its cover," to say the least.
As Janet stood in silence, watching Frank, some knowledge of her presence seemed to penetrate his consciousness. Almost immediately he stirred, and soon his eyes opened. He looked over toward her, and his eyes widened slightly. However, in line with what Dr. Scott had said, that was the only acknowledgement he seemed prepared to give her.
Undeterred, she cautiously approached his bed. "Hello, Frank." She looked at him hopefully, but his only response to her greeting was to narrow his eyes suspiciously at her. He then turned away and stared out the barred window.
She sighed. She couldn't blame Frank for not trusting her. Why should he believe she meant him no harm, especially given her relationship with Dr. Scott, when she didn't even fully understand her own motivation for wanting to see him? However, after laying her eyes on him, one thing became crystal clear…she couldn't stand the thought of Dr. Scott killing him.
She tried again. "I'm sorry for everything you've been through." That comment elicited not so much as an eyelash flicker from him.
"Look, I know you don't believe me, but I'm here to help you." At that, he turned back toward her, stared blankly for a moment, then, with cold deliberation, rolled his eyes at her.
Janet was slightly stung, but at least his response constituted some type of communication. She tried to keep calm, but a slight hint of desperation crept into her voice. "Frank, you have to listen to me. You must know what Dr. Scott has planned for you. There isn't much time left. I'm trying to save your life!"
That statement succeeded where everything else had failed. Still fixing her with a cold stare, his reply was the first word he'd uttered since his resuscitation. "Why??"
His question, although perfectly logical, stopped her cold. Why, indeed? Finally, she answered the only way she knew how.
"I don't know." At that, tears sprang to her eyes. She'd just blown it. Surely he'd never listen to her now.
She was wrong. The naked honesty of that response seemed to strike a chord with him. She hadn't come up with some elaborate excuse, or tried to come across as some saintly Good Samaritan. Most importantly, she hadn't claimed undying love he'd surely done nothing to earn. She was, apparently, acting on motivations she could neither catalogue nor understand. Somehow, he could relate to that. Much of his life had been spent doing that very thing. Given his exalted position, he'd never bothered to examine the reasons for the things he did…he merely acted on urges that felt good to him at the time. And look where that had gotten him. He closed his eyes and sighed.
Finally, he looked back at Janet. To her surprise, he had a slight smile on his face. "Fair enough. Given my present circumstances, I suppose I have nothing to lose by trusting you, but certainly a good deal to lose if I don't. So, assuming I go along with you, how exactly do you propose to save my life?"
Again, he asked a logical question to which she had no answer. She hadn't even known she would want to save his life until she'd actually walked into the room and seen him. However, since she suspected a response of "I don't know" would achieve considerably less success with him this time than it had before, she thought over the situation as quickly as she could. Frank, recognizing what she was trying to do, kept quiet.
At last, she answered him. "I have a brother still living with my parents who's just about your size. I'll come back tonight with some of his clothes. You can change into them and we should be able to leave without attracting any attention. We'll find some out-of-the-way motel somewhere, and you can get in touch with someone who can get you home. Can't you?"
Frank nodded, then glanced at the door. "Yes, I can call some friends from home who will be able to contact Transsexual on my behalf. However, what about Andre the Giant with the gun out there? How do I get past him?"
Again, Janet was silent a moment, until another idea came to her. "Out of the goodness of my heart, I'll brew up a thermos full of nice, hot coffee for him…laced with some crushed sleeping pills. That should take care of that problem."
Frank raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "For such a 'good girl,' you can certainly hatch a devious plot."
She blushed, partly from embarrassment, partly from pride, and partly from…something else she didn't want to examine too closely at the moment. After taking a moment to regain her composure, she smiled and replied, "Well, maybe I'm not as good a girl as either of us thought."
Frank smiled suggestively back at her. "Oh, I'd bet money on that."
The blush deepened.