Trying the Knot (26 page)

Benjamin whizzed past them, but he was
prevented from proceeding beyond the walk-in cooler entrance
because the increasingly noisy herd of spectators blocked the
doorway. A few guests were attending the doubled over priest, who
pointed haplessly at the lavatory door while gasping for breath.
Chelsea opened a jar of olives and grabbed a handful. Popping them
into her mouth like movie popcorn, she slipped past Ben and cleared
a path for Thad, who was struggling to get a closer view of the
debacle unfolding in the restroom.

“Who’s in there,” Thad asked.

“Shayla and your mother! Stop them, or
they’ll kill one another,” Chelsea ordered, and she pushed Thad
into the direction of the dueling women inside the restroom. Thad
stepped over his cousin huddled on the floor, and he disappeared
behind the swinging door. Chelsea popped more olives into her mouth
and attempted to follow him, but Ginny protectively reeled her back
into the hallway.

Nick fought his way through the crowd, which
had gathered inside the cramped corridor, and he searched the
gawking faces for Kate. While attempting to maneuver around Chief
Hesse, Nick unintentionally jostled Chelsea into Ginny, and she
fell back into the arms of her lover, who nearly toppled over. She
clutched onto Ben, fraught with maternal concern until he regained
his balance.

“What’s going on here?” Nick demanded.

“Whatever it is, I’ve got it all in here on
tape,” the Chief said, patting his camcorder. He was diligently
recording the entire chaotic scene. “If nothing else, then for
pros-pear-tee.”

“Don’t you mean, posterity?” Nick
corrected.

“It’s a cat fight,” Ben said. “Thad’s mom and
Vange’s mom are slapping one another silly in the john.”

“Where’s Kate?” Nick asked.

“She was here a second ago,” Ben said above
the increasing din of confusion.

“Those crazy broads will kill Thad!” Chelsea
screamed. With all the strength her small body could muster, she
grabbed hold of Ben and pulled him away from her mother and whipped
him into the bathroom.

After a few tense moments, she demanded of
Nick, “Go see what’s taking them so long, don’t just stand there
and let those lunatics beat one another senseless.”

Nick stormed the fighting ring, and he
emerged almost instantaneously. Victorious, he guided Jane
Feldpausch with one hand and Thad with the other. Jane wore scratch
marks across her face and appeared to be bloodied above her left
ear. Thad was hunched over groaning about having received a boot
clad Karate kick to the gut. But in order to prevent any further
provocation of the crazed cowgirl, Thad led his frothing mother
away.

Without hesitation, Nick again returned to
the ring, and a few moments later he and Ben appeared with a
hysterical Shayla restrained between them. With all their strength,
they held onto her writhing frame fearful of the extent of the
carnage if she broke free. Issuing inane words of support, Chief
Engineer Hesse brushed Ben aside and followed his wife and future
son-in-law down the long hallway in the direction of the fire
exit.

Chelsea rushed to Ben’s side as he dodged
Shayla’s blows. Half free, Shayla threw random punches at Ben while
administering surprisingly agile kicks in the direction of her
husband’s video camera.

“I used to be a cheerleader,” Shayla
screamed. Her cowboy boot delivered a final blow to Ed’s
precariously perched camera, and it fell from his shoulder and
crashed to the ground. She yelled, “Take that, bitch.” When Shayla
showed signs of shaking herself free, Chelsea yanked a handful of
hair while restraining the possessed Mrs. Edward G. Hesse.

“Fuck all y’all,” she cried out as Nick
dragged her down the hallway out the back door.

“Oh my God, where’s Kate?” Chelsea finally
asked no one in particular. Ginny let out a horrified little cry as
she spotted the bride huddled on the floor in a quivering ball.

“Good heavens,” Ginny exclaimed, pointing
downwards. She barked to a passing waitress, “Bring a glass of
water!”

The dispersing mob issued gasps of terror at
the sight of Kate on the floor, and they once again circled around.
Chelsea single-handedly corralled the gawking onlookers back into
the lounge.

When there was enough room, Ginny knelt down
beside Kate and said, “Katie, dear, can you hear me?” She was
unresponsive. “Benjamin, help me get her to her feet. Where’s the
doctor? Somebody, get him now!” Ginny pleaded.

“He got a page, he’s on the pay phone,” a
voice answered.

“Where’s Katie?” an official voice asked, and
everyone moved aside to let Nick’s father through. Squatting down
beside Kate, Dr. Paull hastily checked her over and made sure she
could sit up on her own. The doctor ordered, “Wrap her in a
blanket, and get her to the ER quick. I’ll meet you there.”

Ginny demanded, “Aren’t you even going to
help us?”

“There’s nothing I can do for her here.”
Obviously pressed by more pressing matters, Dr. Paull added, “I’ve
got an emergency.”

“What could possibly be more important,”
Ginny asked, “than your own daughter in-law as of tomorrow?”

“It’s Evangelica,” said Dr. Paull
severely.

“My baby! Oh, no, not my baby girl!” Shayla’s
agonized cries grew distant as the back door closed behind her.

“Wh-what’s wrong with her?” Kate asked
groggily. Although frazzled and shaking, her grasp on the doctor’s
arm was reassuringly firm.

“It’s nothing to worry about, nothing that
can’t be fixed,” Dr. Paull said serenely, and he turned toward
Ginny and Ben. “It seems Evangelica has cardiac arrested. She’s
been stabilized, but she’s in critical condition. I’m on my way
there now. Gotta run, bye.”

“Take good care of her,” Kate whispered. Her
fingers remained clutched around her future father in-law’s
forearm, and he gave Kate a peck on the cheek. The doctor gently
peeled her hand from his arm and set it on Ben’s unsuspecting leg.
Then he was out the door in an emergency medical flash.

Kate remained paralyzed on the floor gazing
blankly ahead. The crowd had almost resumed an air of normalcy as
her oblivious father prepared to make yet another toast. The guests
collectively yawned and turned to face an undaunted Chief
Hesse.

With his glass upraised, he scanned the room
for Kate and began, “To my daughter, who’ll always be a Hesse first
and foremost.” Ben helped Kate onto her feet, and when the Chief
spotted her, he continued nonplussed, “On the eve of your big,
special day of days – here’s hoping they never get this special,
err, I mean expensive ever again. Ha!”

He chuckled jovially but was dismayed to
discover he was the only one laughing; nearly everyone appeared
distressed and out of sorts.

“Abominable,” Ginny said under her breath.
She vowed then and there to retire within a year, and never host
anymore hillbilly hoedowns for the rest of her life.

Kate wrapped her arms around herself, rocked
back and forth, and searched around for a familiar face to focus
on. Everything seemed to grow more and more distant and
inaccessible as she felt herself becoming small and far away. A
gentle hand touched her on the shoulder and reeled her in from the
remote sorrow that alienated her even from herself. Kate turned
with tears in her eyes to see it was Father Tim standing beside
her. He was the only one in the room, and he held out his arms. The
kindly priest offered his support, and she found herself weeping
uncontrollably as he held her close. The priest cradled her
reassuringly while issuing soothing words of comfort. Kate’s
wounded sobs filled the bar area and Ginny attempted to guide her
into the kitchen where she could break down without an audience,
but Kate resisted.

“Katie, honey, just tell us what you need,”
Ginny said. “Anything, sweetie, anything at all.” Ginny draped a
blanket over Kate’s shoulder and caressed her cheek with the back
of her hand. The bride’s forehead felt cold and clammy, but sweat
dripped from her tousled dark hair. To a passing waitress, the
restaurant owner barked, “Where the hell is the water I asked for?
And go get Nick Paull.”

“Hubby took that crazy Tammy Wynette out to
the back parking lot to cool off,” said the scrawny waitress, but
she dutifully retrieved the water and agreed to fetch Nick.

Suddenly sobered by the magnitude of the
crisis, Chelsea grabbed hold of Ben’s hand and said, “Looks like
it’s once again time for Prince Valium to sweep Kate off her
feet.”

“I— I have to leave. I’ll just walk,” Kate
sputtered, seemingly in shock.

“You’re doing no such thing,” Ginny said,
unsure if Kate was aware of what she was saying.

“Take me to her,” Kate pleaded.

“The hospital sounds like a good idea,”
Father Tim said. He rubbed Kate’s back with one hand and held onto
her shoulder with the other. He attempted to guide her out the
door, but she stood motionless.

“Nick’s on his way, he’ll be here any
second,” Ginny reassured.

Shivering, Kate insisted, “No, I have to go
now.”

Without warning, the priest felt Kate grow
heavy as if she were about to faint, and he motioned at Ben to help
support her. “Please, please, please, won’t somebody just take me
there before it’s too late?” Kate begged, nearly whimpering.
“Please, oh please.”

Maybe, Chelsea thought, this time Kate was
beyond Valium, and she would require a rubber room in order to
regain a semblance of self-control. Chelsea commanded impatiently,
“I’ll take you there myself. Ben, you bring Nick as soon as you
find him. Mother, walk with Kate, okay, while I pull up outside the
main entrance.”

“No,” Kate winced and tried to hold back the
tears.

Chelsea grabbed her arm and said forcefully,
“We’re taking you away; you’re going to the hospital.”

With General Norris finally having dispensed
orders, her obliging troops fell in line and marched away
obediently. Their mission was to race the bride to Portnorth
Hospital before she suffered a complete nervous breakdown.

chapter twelve

As the silver Saab veered recklessly down
Main Street, Tristana conversed with such rapt fixation on Alexa
that she paid little attention to the road sprawled before her. Due
to the clouds rolling in off the lake, everything appeared gray and
washed out. In the backseat, Jack slid nauseous across the slippery
leather interior. Tristana found it refreshing to be in the company
of people who were too young to remember a time past when she was
still Nanette before she had transformed into Tristana.

As always, Tristana was unimpressed with the
quiet little town they cruised from one end to the other in mere
minutes, so she decided to raise hell in order to liven things up.
As they pulled slowly into the car wash, she eyed the jacked-up,
monster truck parked alongside a purple Chevy Nova. An Alpha-male
and two identical bald rogues, clad in authentic army-issued
camouflage leaned against the truck emitting one-hundred-percent
pure testosterone. She inspected them as if they were a rare
species indigenous to Northern Michigan.

“Busch Beer! Git ‘asted,” cried the burly one
with the premature middle-aged paunch. He raised his bandaged hand
in the air and called out, “Burn ‘em, git ripped!”

“Fuckin-A!” yelled the bald twins.

Completely fascinated, Tristana asked, “What
language are they speaking?”

“Oh shit, it’s the Czerwinski boys,” Jack
said, and he ducked as low as the little car allowed. “Don’t
stop.”

“Why not?” Tristana asked, bringing the Saab
to a rolling halt. “Are they actual Gulf War veterans?”

“More like Gulf War inspired. The Czerwinski
boys are back from boot camp to kick Jack’s scrawny white ass,”
Alexa informed.

“What for?”

“Killing their sister,” Alexa said. The
bluntness of the remark made Jack grunt with unease. “Last year, on
Devil’s Night, as a testament to their ferocity, they slaughtered a
slew of feral cats and strung their carcasses in trees all over
town.”

“Positively grizzly,” Tristana said. “Who is
the fat-ass between the bookends?”

“That’s Rocky,” Alexa said. “He was supposed
to graduate six years ago. One of his girlfriends is only a senior.
He knocks the crap out of her every lunch hour before he porks her
in the parking lot.”

Tristana shuddered. “He looks rabid. Is this
all they have to do?”

“Mostly. Rocky snags fish in his spare time,
which is pretty much all the time. The Czerwinski jerks are in the
army,” Alexa said. Then she reached back between the two front
seats and pried Jack’s gum from his mouth because he would not stop
chomping on it. “They’re probably handing out directions to a party
at some hick’s hunting camp.”

“There you go, Tristana, real rednecks,” Jack
said, and he impatiently added, “Dude, lets get out of here,
now!”

“This place is even more frightening than I
remember,” Tristana said. She drove slowly as if mesmerized. “They
don’t appear civilized even in their own natural habitat.”

Rocky and his two delinquent protégés spotted
Tristana. The leader of the pack twirled the end of his mustache
and ran his fingers through what looked like a wiry mass of pubic
hair crowning his head. He wore a Black Sabbath T-shirt and baggy,
cargo-style acid-washed jeans.

“In high school, the twins used to ride
trains on passed out drunk girls,” Alexa said sadly.

“Gnarly sick fucks,” Tristana said, but she
felt compelled to put her car in park and watch the stallion
swagger toward them.

“This winner knocked up his girlfriend’s kid
sister,” Jack said. He laughed and added, “His girlfriend is a
Derry cow now, but she was once Queen of Porknorth.”

“Are you on a first name basis with everyone
in this town?” Tristana asked. Appalled, she locked the doors as
the stallion inched his way closer.