Frankie's Adventure, Chapter 6

By Simahoyo

Frankie finally took a code 10 and went down to the café. His Ma was there so fast it wasn't funny. He wondered who blabbed about Adela. Korsak?

"Hi, Ma. Could you bring me something fast? I had a busy day, and I only have half an hour."

Angela combined a little too much interest with sympathy. "Is a burger and fries okay? I heard you have a new girlfriend. What's she like?"

"Ma, order first, then we can talk. Please?"

Her look was calculated to make him feel guilty, and it did. He would have to make it up to her.

"Ma, some chocolate milk too, please." Then she gave him a loving look. Frankie was pretty sure she was remembering him as a little kid coming home from grade school. He sat, and watched the room, a cop habit mirrored by almost everyone in there. He noticed Erin from Crime lab scoot by. Funny, she always did such serious work, but always had a huge smile. Had a couple of little kids too, he had heard. That would be a nice life. Detective squad, wife, kids. Yeah, funny how the phantasy wife looked like Adela.

Ma came back with his food, put it in front of him, and started in. "About this girlfriend, Frankie.

Who is she, what's she like, where did you meet her?" Frankie grabbed food as she talked. It was the only way he was going to get anything to eat without offending her. He was still chewing when she elbowed him to get him to talk. Sometimes he wished he had Janie's nerve–but he didn't.

"Her name is Adela Osceola. She's a Nurse Practitioner–like a cross between a nurse and a doctor." He swallowed, sneaked another bite, while Angela nodded, and chewed.

"And? Is she Italian?"

"Nope, but we have a whole bunch in common culturally. She's from Florida. (Ma looks shocked, hope she isn't thinking some poor redneck.) She's a Seminole Indian. Wait, she's well educated, works with mental patients, and her family is a big, close bunch, living together. Even her eighty year old Grandmother."

Angela grinned. "You really must like her. Listen to how you're defending her." She elbowed him again. "I'll bet she's pretty."

Frankie couldn't help himself, "Oh yeah. Hey Ma, can I call you and talk to you later, I really need to eat and get back. Okay?"

She nodded while smiling. Frankie kept shoving in food until Stanley yelled at his Ma to get back to work. He spent the rest of the afternoon checking his watch. At the end of his shift, he braved the rush hour traffic At ten to six, he was looking for a very elusive parking space. Finally, at five after, he spent the money on a parking lot, and ran the three blocks to her building.

He was huffing for breath by the time he got to her office. Adela opened the door, and smiled.

"Frankie, it's only ten after. Where's the fire?"

"I didn't know if you would think I was rude if I was late."

Adela laughed. " Sit down and catch your breath. When I was ten," she sat next to him, "My family and I went to Miami to protest the 500 anniversary of Columbus landing. The march was starting at noon, so we figured that since we got there at ten after, we would have plenty of time to fix our hair, put on our beads, and get a drink of water before it started. Much to our shock, and the shock of everybody around us, they started the march right then. Nobody was ready. That was my first experience with White Man Time."

Frankie could only look at her blankly. She had lost him in there someplace.

"I grew up in the country, in the South, and an Indian. That means I had to learn that time means something to other people. Don't worry about being late. I didn't even notice."

"Thanks. I guess you're a stop and see the flowers type."

"Big time. Orange blossoms or magnolias. Everything but lilacs, because they make me sneeze."

Frankie couldn't believe it. "No joke? Me too. But, I guess we need to get serious, huh?"

Adela tucked her chin under, then looked up at him. "Yeah. We do. I'm usually a straight ahead full speed and forget the consequences type. But twelve years ago, I learned one heck of a lesson about getting my ducks in a row. I was working at Brighton. I was young and knew it all. So, I was helping out with the tribal mental health system, and I found out that a friend from my childhood was just diagnosed with Schizoid Paranoia. I had known him since first grade. And I thought that because I knew him, I could handle things."

Frankie could feel the tension as she started her story. This was going to be a hard one.

"Boy, what an idiot I was! " She shook her head. "I'll just call him patient X, okay? So, my Dad was a game warden for the state, and he had a smart, funny, good looking assistant. His name was Hank Billie. And he was so good at his job the poachers and chemical dumpers called him, 'halpate' –alligator, because he could hide, then slide right out and catch them red handed. After a while, I fell in love with him, and we were going to get married in a year." She was fighting tears now, and Frankie took her by the hand.

Adela took a shaky breath. "So, I noticed that patient X was acting strange. He would lose the thread of conversation and go off on tangents of tangents of tangents. He had some jerky movements, and started to hear things. I suspected he wasn't taking his medications. I knew his parents, so I asked them, and they swore he was fine. I asked my supervisors, and they told me it was illegal to make him take any medication. So, I gave up, and tried to watch him. "

"Our neighborhood is so tiny, we don't even have a real neighborhood. There's a bait and tackle place, general store/post office, and a boat repair place, which was empty half the time because the old man who ran the place would rather be fishing than work. It was one of those hot days that give the South a bad reputation. You know, you take a shower, step out side and wilt."

"That sounds depressing. Why does your family stay there?"

"We've been there thousands of years. It's like part of us. So, getting back to my story, I was supposed to meet Hank at the boat repair place, and talk about wedding plans. I was going up the ramp, and Mike was coming down, just freaking out. He was shaking, and crying, and looked sick. Finally I heard him say Hank's name and I ran inside." Here she stiffened, with her eyes closed. Her hands were starting to shake again. "The place was covered with blood. I never saw so much, and I used to hunt deer. Hank was lying there, with a garden rake in him. Someone had used it over and over..." She broke down at that point, and Frankie just held her was she cried. Her sobs were coming from somewhere way deep inside her soul.

It took a while for her to calm down enough to continue. Frankie handed her his handkerchief, and watched her wipe her eyes. Adela looked embarrassed. She was a proud as Janie.

"We called it in to the local police, such as they were, and then the jurisdiction fight started. I got a doctor to come look at him while they fought, and it turned out that it was Patient X who did it.

Everyone blamed me. Said I didn't watch him enough, and I should have done this or that. His folks never spoke to me again, I lost the man I loved...Then the FBI thought my brother might have done it. I guess I still have a bad reaction to Agent Dean. Not his fault, I guess. The whole thing was so bad, I pulled up stakes, and moved here. I'm sorry Frankie. I hate falling apart. Really. Indian women–we pride ourselves on being strong. And look at me."

Frankie's heart swelled. "I am." and he kissed her.