Something Bad (34 page)

Doc placed his right hand behind Gabe’s knee, and his left hand on the top of his leg, near the ankle. When he lifted with his right hand, Gabe let out a muffled yelp. He lowered Gabe’s leg back down on the couch and wrote a few notes on a yellow legal pad. He put the pen down and lifted Gabe’s shirt.

Deena Lee and Wanna inched closer.

“What’s wrong with his knee?” Deena Lee said.

Doc palpated Gabe’s ribs and spoke without looking up. “It looks like his anterior cruciate ligament is gone. I can’t tell if it’s partially torn or if it’s totally bisected. We’ll have to do an MRI to be sure, which means we’ll have to get him over to Regional Hospital in a couple of weeks. If I’m right, he’ll need an operation, but we can’t do anything until the swelling goes down. In the meantime, I can fit him with a brace so he can get around, although he won’t be going much of anywhere for a while. I’m also worried about his ribs.” Doc poked Gabe’s chest, prompting a subdued cry that came out as a strained grunt. “Hopefully, they’re just cracked. We’ll need to take some x-rays.”

Doc pulled Gabe’s shirt back down and wrote on his yellow pad. Finished, he moved up to the top of the couch. “Now, let me have a look at your head. Your face has a few cuts, mostly punctures, but Wanna and Deena Lee, you took good care of them last night. I’m a little worried about the cuts on the back of your head, though. At least one is still oozing a little. Can you turn on your side so I can have a look?”

It took Gabe thirty seconds to shift to his side, and he was unable to subdue his reactions to the pain this time.

Doc probed his scalp around the blood-matted hair and made a “tsk” sound. “It looks like we have three good gashes here. One’ll be okay as it is, but two will need a couple of stitches to keep closed.” He looked up at Deena Lee and Wanna. “I can do it here, if you don’t mind the mess. I’m going to have to cut away some of his hair and he’s not going to like the anesthetic shot one bit. What do you think?”

“Go ahead and sew him up,” Deena Lee said right away. “If you give him time to think about it, he’ll not want it done at all. You’ll be lucky to get him in for the x-rays and I won’t put odds on the operation. Better do what you can while he’s laid up here.”

Doc put a butterfly bandage on the smallest cut and closed the next wound with two stitches. The largest one took four. When finished, he helped Gabe turn back over, but cautioned him to keep his weight off the stitched areas. He turned to face Deena Lee.

“I’m concerned about his memory. I want you to watch him closely today. If he goes to sleep, try to rouse him every half hour or so. You don’t have to wake him up totally. I just want to see if you can get him to respond to you. And let me know right away if he starts vomiting. He’ll have a headache for a while, but it should get better as the day wears on.” He turned his head. “Gabe, you tell Deena Lee if it gets worse than it is now. I’m going to give you a prescription for some pain pills.”

He looked over at Deena Lee. “Have him take one every four hours today and tonight. Then, have him take one when he needs it.”

Doc raised his voice. “Gabe, you have to stay down now. Even if you start to feel better. I don’t want you to be moving around much. I’d like you to come in tomorrow for the x-rays. We’ll worry about the MRI later.” Doc turned back to Deena Lee and Wanna. “I’ll swing by later this morning with a knee brace. It’ll immobilize it so he doesn’t hurt it when he moves around. You have to keep him down for a couple of days, at least.”

Doc and Deena Lee helped Gabe to a sitting position. Doc wrapped Gabe’s torso with an elastic bandage and re-checked his sutures. When he was done, he packed his bag, stood up, and walked out the door, motioning Deena Lee to follow him.

When they were outside, Deena Lee grabbed his forearm. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Everything but the knee will heal on its own,” Doc said with a warm smile. “He’ll be mighty sore for a while, and he won’t be doing much around the farm in the next few weeks. Good thing it’s getting into winter. He’ll need surgery, and that’ll be followed by a long and difficult recovery, physical therapy. From a physical terrorist.” He laughed. “If I’m right, we’re looking at around a year to get to where he can move around like before. He’ll need a lot of help with the farm come spring. Good thing he has you and Wanna. From what I know of Wanna, the farm work will get done just fine. There’s just one thing that’s bothering me, though. Do you know anything about what happened to him?”

“Just what he told us last night and today. Why? What’s wrong?” Deena Lee chewed her index fingernail.

“He said he was hit over the head, but his wounds are low on the back of his head and neck. Also, the cuts on his face are mostly puncture wounds. That wouldn’t happen with a beating like he described. If his memory improves, write down anything he says. Even if he talks in his sleep. I’m not going to bother the sheriff, but I won’t rule out the option later. I’m not trying to worry you. I just want to make sure Gabe isn’t in any trouble.”

“I’ll take down what he says and I’ll let you know if anything important comes up. Any idea how we can keep him down? You know he’ll be wanting to get up, probably before the day’s out.”

“Sit on him if you have to. He’ll just end up hurting himself worse if he moves around too much. I’ll be back later with the brace and I’ll bring the pain pills.”

“Thanks, Doc. We really appreciate you coming out this morning.”

Doc’s smile widened. “My pleasure. By the way, what’s up with Wanna? She seems to have changed, and not just a little.”

Deena Lee returned Doc’s smile. “I think it’s Cory Dean. Ever since he came home, she’s been a different person—downright sweet. Little people can do that to big people, particularly the tough ones. I suspect she’s feeling the need to be a mother herself, and from what I’ve seen, she’ll be a good one.”

“Be sure to tell her goodbye.” Doc climbed into his car.

The sun came up in streams of light that struggled against the closed drapes of the living room. Gabe’s awakening paralleled the gathering light. As he became aware of his surroundings, and more importantly of his internal condition, he was relieved to find his headache nearly gone. In fact, he felt really good until he tried to move on the couch. Grunting to a sitting position, the pain in his chest told him it was a very bad idea. The grunts brought another sound from the chair to his left.

Wanna stirred. She slouched in the chair with her legs propped up on the coffee table, which was pulled over so her legs were supported from the knees down. She sat up straight and shed her sleep like an unneeded blanket. “Good morning, sleepy head. You been out for a whole day and night. How you feeling? You must be pretty hungry.”

“I really need to get to the bathroom. Can you help me get up? You sleep in the chair last night? What day is this, anyway?”

“Slow down on the questions. It’s Friday morning, and don’t you worry about where I slept. Let’s get you to the bathroom before you mess up the couch more than you have already.”

She helped Gabe to a sitting position, which took nearly a minute. Helping him stand took a little longer and required three tries to find the best angle for his injured leg. The brace stabilized the knee, but it didn’t allow any significant flexion of the joint. When he was standing, Wanna handed him a pair of crutches Doc had dropped off with the knee brace and pain pills.

“Here. You can use these to get to the bathroom. You needing to sit down in there or can you take care of your business standing?”

“I’m needing to stand right now. But if I have to sit later, I’ll find a way to do it my own damn self.”

“Well, you seem to be feeling better,” Wanna said, giggling. “You can bitch all you want, but you’re going to get our help whether you like it or not. You’re still petty banged up, and Doc says you’ll be needing our help for a couple of days.”

Deena Lee rounded the hall doorway into the living room with Cory Dean in her arms. “Good morning, Sweetie. Look who’s been dying to see you. How you feeling today?”

Gabe pulled a full smile at the sight of Cory Dean and Deena Lee. “I’m feeling a ton better now I get a look at the two of you. But I got to get to the bathroom, so I’ll let you know how I’m really feeling after that part of me is feeling better.”

Gabe crutched his way out of the room, giving a slight grunt each time his body weight fell on the padded supports in his armpits. The pressure the crutches placed on his ribs made the trip a painful one.

In the time it took Gabe to navigate the house, take care of his business, return to the couch, and lower himself to a sitting position, Deena Lee had a plate of eggs, bacon, and potatoes ready on a lap tray. Although he was famished, Gabe slowly savored each bite. Only a day-and-a-half earlier, he wasn’t sure he’d be around to enjoy such a gastronomic delight—or the love of the people who were taking care of his needs. He thought of Wanna sleeping in the chair at his side, and the look of concern on Deena Lee’s face. He was the luckiest man on earth, despite his physical wounds.

When he finished his breakfast, Deena Lee again forwarded her query. “How you feeling, Sweetie? You had us plenty scared.”

“I’m feeling a whole lot better than yesterday morning.” He put on his “I’m fine” look. “My headache’s nearly gone, and the knee’s stiff but not paining me much. But my chest feels like someone’s tightening a vice on it. It hurts to breathe, and moving around gives me some serious pain. The damn crutches do more hurt than good, so I’ll just try to get around without them.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Wanna said, leaning into the conversation. “First of all, you ain’t getting around nowhere for the next couple of days. Second, I’d like to see you try to get around without the crutches. Hopping will hurt your ribs more than the crutches, and you better not put any weight on that knee. Doc said the swelling will never go down if you don’t stay off it.”

Gabe rolled his eyes, even though he knew she was right. He didn’t have the luxury of taking a couple of days off—he needed to get up to Chicago right away. That thought took over. How was he going to get up there, particularly without Thibideaux knowing where he was going? He was sure he was being watched very carefully, and would be until the baptism.

The envelope. The memory of it, stuffed in his waistband, returned. What was in it? He’d only presumed it contained the priest’s notes. He hadn’t looked inside yet. Didn’t even know he had it until Deena Lee found it. “Deena Lee, you took an envelope from me when I came in. What’d you do with it?”

Wanna stepped between Gabe and Deena Lee. “Don’t you think about that stuff now. You got to rest up without worrying about taxes.”

Wanna’s response reminded Gabe of his quick-thinking cover. “I won’t bother with it now. Just remind me where you put it so I can get to it later.”

“I ain’t telling.” Wanna set her jaw. “You’ll just get to it if I do. You lay back and rest up or I’ll add to your whipping.”

No way to win a battle of stubbornness with Wanna, at least not with the old Wanna. But urgency played in. Sacrifice the sympathy pawn. “I just want to know where you put it so I can get it later. It’s really important stuff, so you better tell me or I’ll be up after it.”

Wanna’s hands pinched her hips, elbows out, like she was forming a physical barrier. “I’ll tell you under one condition. You promise you won’t look at it until tomorrow.” She walked over to the couch and picked up the crutches. “And just to make sure you ain’t tempted to get it, I’ll borrow these for a while.” She put the crutches under her arms and effortlessly swung herself across the room.

Gabe was in check, but rather than fight, he tipped over his king. “Okay. You win. I promise. But I have a condition, too. If you bring me the envelope right now, and let me take a quick peek inside, I’ll let you put it up for today. I won’t take any papers out. I just need to see if I got the right ones. The tax problem came on me fast, so I don’t have a lot of time to take care of it. Today, I need to know if I have the right stuff.”

Wanna walked over to the roll-top desk, pulled open the left, middle drawer, and withdrew the envelope. “Okay, Mister Tax Man. You take a peek, but I’ll keep hold of it. Get your look. I ain’t going to keep it here long.” She held the envelope by the edges and moved the flap end within Gabe’s reach.

The envelope was closed by a string that wound around two raised paper disks. Heart pounding, Gabe unwound the string and lifted the flap. How would he recognize the notes?

Inside were fifteen or twenty age-yellowed pages with hand-written paragraphs and phrases. With a quick flip, he noticed a few graphs and what looked like equations, but with words instead of math symbols. Without time or privacy to read carefully, he had to assume they were written by the priest. The words of Father Costello echoed in his mind as he closed the envelope and re-wound the sealing string. “It’s probably better if you don’t read the notes either …” Gabe released the envelope and Wanna walked it back to the tax drawer.

His mind turned to the problem of timing. The baptism was nine days away and nothing could be done until tomorrow at the earliest. Even if he was physically able to head out to Chicago tomorrow, which was unlikely, it would take him at least one day to get up there. That would get him with Father Costello with seven days left. Then, he would have to drive back, which would make it six days, and all of this ignored the need for sleep. To allow for appropriate rest, he would be within four or five days of the baptism upon his return from Chicago. That wouldn’t leave a lot of time to plan the battle with Thibideaux. He thought of all the things that could add delays to his best-case timetable. Wanna interrupted his mental calculations.