Chap 29
In the last chapter, Shark planted a bomb in Frank's car. When the car exploded, Frank thought Joe was inside. Frank ran toward the burning car. Before Frank could run into the flames, Joe tackled him. Frank didn't recognize Joe and kicked his brother in the head.
Biker subdued Frank by throwing dirt in his eyes.
Since Frank had experience collecting evidence from an explosion site, and the Bayport Police Department didn't have officers trained in that area, Frank reluctantly stayed at the crime scene. Biker went with Joe to the hospital.
Frank found an important piece of evidence, but his phone died. Joe freaked out when he was could not phone Frank from the hospital. He believed Frank had died in a car bombing - just like Iola.
Frank
I run into Joe's hospital room. The bed Is empty.
"Where is he?" I ask.
When Biker doesn't answer, I grab his t-shirt and throw him against the hospital wall.
"Where is my brother?" I growl. My hand curls around Biker's throat.
I feel Biker shaking under my hands. He has an odd, detached look in his eyes. It reminds me of the look Joe gets when he re-lives the car bombing that killed Iola.
I break eye contact, step back, and give Biker lots of space.
Joe is better at reading people, but my instincts tell me Biker was abused as a child. Me pushing Biker around just released all the monsters hiding in his mind.
"Touch me again, I'll break every bone in your body," Biker growls. He stumbles to the farthest corner of the room - where he can see everyone. He shoves his shaking hands into his jean pockets.
"Sorry. I stepped way over the line."
"Doctor ordered an MRI," Biker says, from across the room.
I replay the brutal back kick I landed on Joe's head. If I'm lucky, Joe only has a concussion. How can I live with myself if I've caused a brain bleed or a bruised brain?
"Yo, earth to Frank," Biker says.
Ironic how I pushed Biker into his dark place, and he pulled me out of mine.
"How was he when he left for his MRI?" I ask and drag my hand through my smoke-scented hair.
"Quiet," Biker says.
The word terrifies me. When Iola died, Joe was quiet. Too quiet. I felt him slipping away every day. Will it happen again?
Nurse Doyle pushes Joe on a wheeled stretcher into the room.
"Joe?" I ask.
My brother's eyes are open but he does not respond.
"How is he?" I ask, and put my hand on Joe's shoulder.
"Radiology is backed up. No results for an hour at least," Nurse Doyle says.
"Was he awake during the scan?" I ask.
"He was like this. Eyes open but a million miles away. What happened to your shoulder?"
I look down and see a dried blood stain.
"Don't know."
"Let's get you to ER," Nurse Doyle says.
"I'm not leaving."
"Why are you bleeding in my patient's room?" A white-coated doctor asks. "Leave immediately or I'll call security."
"Stick a sock in it, Vonnel," Dr. Tager says.
"He can't be here," Dr. Vonnel says. "There's a risk of infection. What if someone sues the hospital?"
"What if someone tells Nurse Rolf you put surgical lube on her stethoscope earpieces?" Dr. Tager asks. *1
"You wouldn't," a pale Dr. Vonnel says.
"I would. I'd actually enjoy it," Dr. Tager says.
"I'll get you for this," Dr. Vonnel says, before he leaves.
"How did you know?" Nurse Doyle asks.
"I didn't," Dr. Tager says. "Until now. Nurse Doyle will you bring me numbing gel, sterile water, surgical thread and a needle?"
"Yes, Doctor."
"Joe, can you hear me?" I ask.
"I killed you. Just like I killed Iola," Joe mumbles. "You died. I didn't stop from running into the fire."
"I stopped him," Biker says. "Got him the same way I dropped Big Tiny."
"Biker?" Joe asks.
"The one and only."
"You threw dirt in his eyes?"
"Take a look."
Joe's scared blue eyes look into my brown, watery ones.
"You're alive?" Joe whispers. "What if this is just a dream?"
"Hardy, I'm too busy to be in your dreams," Biker says. "Check out Frank's pants. I 'accidentally' aimed the saline too low when I washed out his eyes."
Joe's eyes widen when he sees the big, wet stain on my pants.
"I don't think it was an accident," I say.
"Hey, everybody makes mistakes," Biker says.
"Frank, what happened?" Joe asks and looks at my bleeding shoulder.
"That's what I've been wondering," Dr. Tager says, as he cuts off the shoulder and sleeve of my dirty, torn button down shirt Yo.
"Looks like a piece of shrapnel (fragments of a bomb, shell or other objects of an explosion) caught your shoulder," Dr Tager says, as something cool hits my shoulder.
"No drugs! I need to stay awake!" I say
"I'll get you a bullet to bite on," Dr. Tager says. "Relax. I'm just applying some numbing gel to your shoulder."
"Are you guys ok?" Tony asks.
I don't know when Shark will try to kill again. I don't know Shark's location. The bomb destroyed Main Street.
But Joe is alive. Nothing else matters.
"We're good," I say. "How's the pizzeria?"
"Still standing. But the bookstore and hardware store across the street are gone."
"How can we help?" Phil, my old college roommate, asks.
Make Biker disappear.
"Biker looks bad," Joe mumbles.
Biker's skin is gray. The way he rubs his forehead, I know he has a killer headache. *2
"Give Biker a lift home?" I ask.
"Uh…sure," Phil says.
"Tony, Biker's motorcycle is at the crime scene. Can you return it to him?"
"No prob," Tony says.
Biker, Tony and Phil leave the hospital room.
"Last stitch," Dr. Tager says, as he cuts the surgical thread. He puts a bandage on top of my stitches. "I want you to rest."
I nod absentmindedly.
"Nurse Doyle, would you have the red recliner from the Doctor's Lounge moved here?" Dr. Tager asks. "It's Dr. Vonnel's favorite."
"Yes, Doctor.
"Please tell Ralph from maintenance to stick a tube of surgical lube halfway under the cushion. Make sure Nurse Rolf sees the surgical lube tube when he goes by the Main Desk. Frank, get some sleep. If you don't look better tomorrow morning, I'm admitting you to the hospital. Got it?"
I nod.
A few minutes later, Ralph puts the red recliner by Joe's bed.
"Nurse Rolf is gonna kill Dr. Vonnel," Ralph says, with a big smile.
I sit down, put my hand on Joe's shoulder and count his breaths.
"Hey, I came as soon as I heard what happened," Biff says. "How can I help?"
"Would you stay with Joe for a few minutes?"
"Sure. Promise I won't leave this chair," Biff says, as he slides into the recliner.
I walk down three flights of stairs and two hallways. When I push a wooden door open, I see a stained glass window. I see Jesus nailed to the cross. He died so we could live. None of it makes sense.
Logic and science are my gods.
"I hate You for letting Iola die," I whisper. "Joe carries a lot of pain and guilt - I hate You for that too. But You gave Joe hope. He believes he will see Iola again. Please give me hope. Let Joe be ok."
Fifteen minutes later, I am back in Joe's hospital room.
I stare out the hospital window, when I feel someone staring at me.
"Are you real?" Joe whispers.
I am terrified. I do not want to push Joe over the edge.
"Real," I say and poke his arm.
"No. You're dead. Just like Iola. I killed you."
Not good. Iola's death is in the mix.
"You didn't kill anybody," I say and put my hand on his shoulder.
"I didn't save you," Joe says.
"Actually, you did save me."
"How?"
"You got Biker's attention. He saved me. So technically, you saved me."
"Iola…" Joe whispers.
"Was killed by the person who planted a bomb in Dad's car," I say.
"Someday I'm gonna rescue you," Joe whispers, as he falls asleep.
You already have.
JOE
When I wake up, Frank is dead to the world in a red recliner by my bed.
At 3 am, my MRI results came back. No brain bruising or bleeding. My brain is good. Frank is not good.
He is beating himself up for kicking me in the head. I understand. I acted the same way when Iola died.
When Dad's car exploded, I went crazy trying to save Iola. Frank knocked me unconscious. When I woke up in the hospital, I saw the black eye and busted lip I had given Frank.
None of this is Frank's fault. He was out of his mind with fear - just like I was. I want to tell him, but I can't. Not yet. Car bombs bring back a lot of bad memories. I'm scared talking about it will unlock more memories.
"Welcome back," Frank says. "Want a drink?"
I nod and wince. I have the worst headache of my life.
I sip some water through a straw.
"Dude, you destroyed another black Lexus."
"No. Shark destroyed my black Lexus."
"I bet being your insurance agent gives Leo nightmares. Speaking of nightmares, did I have any at the hospital?"
Not a smooth transition, but I have to know. Car bombs always give me nightmares.
"No nightmares to speak of," Frank says with a perfect poker face - totally unreadable.
So I'll never know. Maybe that's a good thing.
"Joe, we need a plan."
"Maybe Shark got bored and left the country."
Frank gives me the look that can make water freeze into ice.
"Frank, Shark is a psychopath who is MIA (missing in action)."
For a second, I see hopelessness in Frank's brown eyes. Then his defenses are back in place.
"Look, sometimes you can't plan. Remember when I threw up during your sixth-grade piano recital?"
"You planned the whole thing! I saw you eat two cartons of ice cream. I heard you tell Tony you were getting sick to avoid my piano recital."
"Frank, you're missing the point. Focus. I planned to get sick at home. But I didn't vomit until ten kids played the piano so badly I wanted to rip my ears off."
"You vomited on my piano teacher."
"She deserved it. What I'm saying is sometimes you need a flexible plan. When Shark calls, we'll make a plan."
"That's too late."
"Ok. We make a general plan now. When Shark calls we'll nail the specifics."
"Sounds good. What's the general plan?"
"Catch Shark."
"That's it?"
"I like it. Short. Easy to remember."
"Joe, it doesn't sound like a plan."
"You got a better idea?"
"No."
"Then we'll keep my plan."
"The CIA wants to meet with us."
"I'm busy."
"The meeting is about Shark."
"Cool. You go. Tell me the important stuff."
"Where are you going?"
"Back to your condo. I'm tired of hospital food, hospital beds, hospital smells…"
"I get the picture."
"Hospital tests, hospital gown, hospital water..."
Frank's glare makes me smile.
"Hey, Prito. Thanks for bringing my stuff," I say as Tony puts a knapsack on my hospital bed.
"Why does Frank look like he's gonna explode?" Tony asks.
"Male menopause. Ready to give me a ride home?"
"Ride? You asked me to get your clothes," Tony says.
"Dr. Tager wants me to rest. I can't do that here or at a meeting."
"I hate it when you make sense," Frank mutters.
"My car is a mess. I'll call a taxi," Tony says.
"No strangers," Frank says. "You drive Joe home and keep an eye on him."
"Uh…ok. I'll get my car," Tony says and leaves the room.
"You're really abandoning me to the CIA?" Frank asks.
"You know I don't get along with the CIA," I say and struggle to get my arm into the t shirt I'm pulling over my head.
"Go straight home. Got it?" Frank asks, as he guides my arm into my sleeve.
"Yes, Mom. Your worry way too much."
"Really?" Franks asks.
"What?"
"Your shirt."
I MEANT TO BEHAVE BUT THERE WERE TOO MANY OTHER OPTIONS.3
Figures Tony would bring me this shirt.
"Trust me?"
I hate that it comes out as a question.
"I will call in one hour. You will be home resting."
"No problem."
Nurse Doyle pushes my wheelchair to the hospital's main entrance.
A old car lurches toward the hospital doors. The car's color is long gone - all that remains is the rust that seems to hold the car together.
Tony opens the driver door. The right headlight falls on the ground. Tony grabs it and throws it in the backseat.
Where was his 2009 Corvette ZR1? The car that Tony never lets me drive, no matter how much I beg.
When Tony opens the passenger door, the door handle falls off. He throws it into the backseat of his car.
"Ok, let's get you home," Tony says, and helps me into the passenger seat.
"Prito, who gives out loaners like this? This car is a lawsuit on wheels."
Tony ignores me and starts the car. When he hits a pothole, the glove compartment door falls off and lands in my lap. I throw it into the backseat.
Papers fall out of the glove compartment. An envelope flies out of the window. When I try to roll up the window, the handle falls off. I throw it into the backseat.
"Hey, that's private stuff!" Tony shouts.
I grab an envelope about to fly out the window. In red letters it has FINAL NOTICE stamped on It.
"Prito, what's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Why are there moving trucks parked outside your pizzeria?"
"No comment."
Tony stops at a red light.
I kick open the passenger door.
"Joe, what are you doing?"
Ignoring Tony, I step into the street. The front fender falls off. At this rate, Tony won't have enough car left to drive me to Frank's condo.
I limp to the pizzeria.
"What's going on?" I ask the crowd.
"Foreclosing on Prito's Pizzeria," Officer Harrison says, with a grin.
Tony pulls the car into a parking space. He slams the door and the engine falls out.
We aren't throwing that in the back seat.
"Tony, why didn't you tell me?" I ask.
"Figured I could handle it. Sold the Camero and my condo. Even been selling my blood/plasma."
"Didn't you think I'd want to know?"
"I didn't want anybody to know I lost the business my grandparents started."
"Looks like the cat is out of bag."
"Look, somebody is trying to kill you. Your house got destroyed. I figured you had enough to handle without me dumping on you."
"Prito, ok if they start removing the pizza ovens early?" Officer Harrison asks.
"Yes," Tony says.
"No," I say. "How much do you owe?"
"Thirty thousand dollars by 3 pm."
Officer Harrison clears the crowd so the Bayport Times photographer can get better photos.
I pull out my phone and hit my speed dial.
"Biker, I need a ride and a tow truck.
"Forget it. My friend with benefits is coming over in ten minutes."
"It'll ruin Officer Harrison's day."
"I hate Harrison. Give me five minutes."
When he disconnects, I make one more quick phone call.
"Tony, follow me. We're going to Bay Valley Bank."
"The snobbiest bank in town? Why?"
"Because I kept overdrawing my account, so Frank set up my new bank account at his crappy bank."
The Bay Valley Bank doorman gives me and Tony a once over and hesitantly opens the bank door.
Every employee wear a business suit in black or gray. No wonder Frank does all his banking here.
"Back door for deliveries," a thin, older woman behind a counter snaps.
"I need to open my safety deposit box."
"YOU have an account here?"
"Yes."
I show my ID.
"You have your safety deposit key?"
"Yes."
"I'll tell the bank director."
A tall potted palm tree sits outside the vault. I lift up the pot and slide my safety deposit box key out with my foot.
"Frank, how good to see you - oh - you're the other one - Jack."
"Joe."
"This way to the vault."
The banker pushes a series of buttons and unlocks the vault.
We insert our keys into my safety deposit box.
"Call me if you need anything," the banker says before he leaves.
I try to lift open the cover of the safety deposit box, but my shaking hands can't hold it.
"I got it," Tony says, as he uncovers the box.
He picks up a small, turquoise ring box marked Tiffany's.
"Y-you mind opening it?" I ask.
"No problem."
When Tony opens the box, I see Iola's engagement and wedding rings. I imagine Iola in her wedding dress, standing next to me, while I slip the gold wedding ring on her finger.
"You call for a jewelry assessment?" a tall, older man in an expensive suit says.
I nod.
He puts a jeweler's loupe magnifying glass in his eye and examines the engagement ring.
"Two and a half carat stone surrounded by delicate diamond flowers. Beautiful workmanship. Platinum setting - which is more valuable than gold. Good choice. Certificate that the diamonds were ethically sourced."
"She loves flowers. When I saw it, I knew it was hers."
He takes the gold wedding band.
"Not for sale," I say and grab the ring.
"I'll give you 50,000 for the diamond ring."
I nod.
He writes a check, puts it on the table and leaves with Iola's engagement ring.
Feels like I've lost Iola all over again.
I grit my teeth and sign the back of the jeweler's check.
"Mr. Hardy, can help you with anything else?" The banker asks.
"Can you use this to cancel the Prito's Pizzeria foreclosure?"
"Of course," he says. "But this is more than the foreclosure."
"Put the rest on the mortgage and cancel my safety deposit box?"
"I will have both items done by the end of the day," the banker says on his way out the door.
"Prito, do me a favor?" I ask.
"Anything."
"Don't tell anyone about the rings."
"Why? What's wrong with buying a wedding and engagement ring for the woman you plan to marry?"
"I bought the rings after Iola died."
1 "Eight Hilarious Medical Pranks and Jokes," AIMS Education, by dangerismycat, Oct. 1, 2015
2 Syphillis, CDC Fact Sheet
3 I don't own them, but Joe definitely wears their shirts.