Protecting Heather

This is a work of fantasy and fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under legal age in real life.

Slipping out of bed, Heather avoided waking Oliver who had just dozed off again.  They’d hardly been able to exchange more than a few words, a gentle embrace, her kiss on his forehead, before he succumbed to the embrace of the painkillers that ran from bags into his arm.  He was well on his way as she watched him from the foot of the bed.

It was still morning yet.  It seemed to her that it had been forever in a morning.  Yet she clung onto the time, her fractured faith in the moment still hung in shards around her.  With nothing else to do, she turned and strode out and down the corridor.  All this was so new to her.  It made her feel small to realize there was just so much more to the world around her, more than she could ever see from down on the streets where she had lived.

Wandering without seeing, her thoughts wrapped up tight and facing inwards, Heather entered the little chapel on the ground floor of the hospital, and stood transfixed.  It was an older hospital, and a Catholic one.  The multi colored shards of the morning sun slanted in through the colored glass in the shape of a cross, warming her face and filling her eyes.  Stepping out of the dazzling rays, she found herself alone.  It was still quite early in the morning, all things considered.  She walked around the perimeter of the embedded sanctuary, passing the stations of the cross, and puzzling out their meaning.

I don’t even know how to pray, but, I feel like I need to try.

She found a seat in the middle, closed her eyes, and started.

Dear God, if you’re there.  Maybe you even know me.  I don’t want to cause any trouble, but… umm.   I don’t even know where to start.  I hope you’re out there somewhere, and I have a feeling that you hear from people like me when things go wrong.   Oliver says that I should begin difficult things with the feeling of gratitude.  So let me just say thank you for a few things before I get onto the heavy stuff.

Heather looked around, Feeling a little silly, but also little bit hopeful in the warm splash of colors.

I wanted to say thank you for saving me from T-bone.  I know that some things happened in the beginning.  Bad things.  I know that some of those things were wrong, and I’m sorry for the way he brought me to be with him.  But… could you please forgive him?  I mean…  he’s the nicest man I’ve ever met.  And strong.  And I think he wanted to do the right thing, and in the end, I think he did.  Ok?  And I hope that you can forgive him for doing what he did.  I mean.. I do.  Do you?

When he opened his eyes for the second time that day, Oliver noted the man who was checking his computer tablet chart at the foot of the bed.  A young doctor in a lab white overcoat, pecking away at the large screen with a stylus.  Tall, square jawed, and strong built, he looked like a superhero type who might feel just at home in a football locker room as scrubbing in for surgery.  

Oliver coughed involuntarily.  The doctor looked up from his clipboard and saw that Oliver was awake.  “Hello, Mr. Murphy, I’m Dr. Blake.  It’s good to see you up.” the young man said, eyeing him over the top of the clipboard as he scrawled his signature onto the daily orders.

“Yes,” Oliver managed weakly, “I suppose it’s thanks to you that I’m up at all.”

“I hesitate to take full credit.  I heard from the ER physician that someone held pressure and did an excellent job controlling the hemorrhage before you arrived here.  Your wife?”  

Oliver grunted, wincing a smile.  “I don’t remember, but I’m not surprised.”   

“Frankly, you’ve been the subject of some conversation around here.”

“Oh?” Oliver asked emotionlessly, guarded, waiting for the hard questions he expected were coming.

“Yes.  Very interesting.  I’ll start from the start. You were in a bad situation by the time you got here. The damage to your kidney, although traumatic, is not as bad as we’d feared at first.  It’s largely intact and should recover in time.  The worst of it was the bleeding.  But there was one other thing, something we don’t normally see every day.”

The Dr. paused as a look of puzzlement settled uncomfortably across his face.  It was a look that was not at home on this confident man’s face.

“I have the proverbial good news and bad news. Bad news first then. When we were in the abdomen looking for any additional bleeding or damage, we found something unexpected.  We found some tumors.  The tests have come back and, without a doubt, it appears that what we found was pancreatic cancer.  Preliminary results and the locations where we found it, we judge it to have been at Stage II.”

Oliver took all this in without flinching.   

Dr. Blake raised an eyebrow, then “You don’t seem surprised.”  He paused as he considered his patient.  Then;  “How long have you known?”

“About two and a half years.” Oliver acknowledged.

Oliver remembered the day well.  It was etched in his mind.  Just one of those expensive new “Body Scans” that doctors were marketing to their rich clients. When the physician’s assistant called him to say nothing more than that the Dr. needed to meet with him, “urgently”.  

“It was only a fluke that they found it,” Oliver continued. “I know what it is, and I know how bad it is.  Though… I’m surprisingly still symptom free.  I don’t expect that will last for much longer.”

Blake’s brows knitted.  “Normally, based on the type of the tumor, in the earlier stages we generally see survival rates of about five years.  Given that we had found it had metastasized to several locations that we could see, we were guessing more like one to two years at best.  We sent over biopsies right away.”

“You needed to know if I was going to be an open and shut case, isn’t that right?” Oliver observed dryly.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that, Mr. Murphy.”  But the doctor’s eyes said that yes, that was exactly what had happened.

“You said there was some good news?” Oliver reminded him.

“How can I put this… It may be none of my personal business.  The hospital admin cautioned me against getting involved, but… you might want to reconsider whatever risky business that was that brought you to us yesterday.  Because frankly, I suspect that you may just outlive your current lifestyle.  Our oncologist would love to talk to yours, and I’m assuming now that already have one.  In fact, I expected him to join me on rounds but he probably got hung up somewhere.  Findings like this are very rare, indeed.

“We’re still confirming this, but based on the biopsies that we took, they showed that the tumors are, surprisingly in remission. In short, they seem to be spontaneously dying off.  I hesitate to say, given that it’s so rare as to be considered a myth.  But we’re fairly sure that’s what is happening.  That’s what took so long last night, besides all the vascular repairs.  We were waiting for preliminary results from the lab while a specialist was called in to examine, and then we had them double-checked. Even the original mass at the pancreas is in retreat.”

A glimmer of hope, the kind of which Oliver was sure he had long ago ground out on the sidewalk like a cigarette stub, began to rekindle in him.  Silently he damned himself.  

All the things I’ve done.  The risks I’ve taken, thinking it was all over.  Acting out of desperation.  Hate.  Selfishness.  But what about… what about Heather?  What about love?  Is it all tainted? I’ve been such a damned fool. How can I ever be forgiven?

“Mr. Murphy, if everything comes back the way we’re expecting, I believe we may have cause for a positive outlook.  Take it easy for a few days, then we’ll have you up and about for some laps around the nurses’ station. I’ll stop in again tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”  

Oliver nodded to him, unable to speak for the emotion that he was avidly denying.  The doctor took his leave, and tucking his tablet under his arm, made his way to his next patient for the day.  

Oliver stared out the window. The day was yet young, and it felt strange to look at it with some sense of hope.

Epilogue</

And I wanted to thank you for finding my father.  I hope he’s going to be okay.  I have the feeling that there’s something very important happening with him, and I hope that he stays safe. I know he’s sorry for what happened yesterday.  He was only doing what he thought was right.  And maybe he can find a way to be my dad now.  

Janice hung up her cell phone.

“Well?”  Nick asked patiently over his shoulder, drumming the steering wheel with his fingers..

Janice stared at the phone a second. “He’s alive, just like you said.  I mean, you DID shoot him.”

“Yeah.  I did do that,” he replied evenly.  Calmly even.

“And you bugged my car!”

Nick met her eyes in the rear view mirror.  “Yeah.  Sorry about that.”

Janice felt the adrenaline rush fading away.  She thumbed the hammer safely from full cock. “So… you’re her…”

“Yup,” he confirmed.  

“And T-Bone?”

“Hey, you don’t know shit about that, right!?  You step out of this car, and you know nothing about it.  So… are we about done here now?”  Nick said, just the edge of impatience seeping into his voice.

Janice felt a little chastised before reminding herself that this guy HAD bugged her car, HAD shot Oliver.  

Then again, I’m no angel either!

“Yeah.  I’m done.  Are we good? Nothing personal, no hard feelings and all that?”

Nick considered it.  “Hmmm… How about, you meet me for dinner at 8:00 and Nunzi’s, and we’ll call it even. Deal?”

Janice was shocked, then blushed, as she considered.  Steffie’s big brother…   “Alright.  But you’re buying!”  She shot back, the edge of a smile on her face.

“Fine.  How come I never noticed you buzzing around with my sister before?”

“Cause you don’t pay any attention to what your sister’s little friends do.”

“True.  But you… You’re not like the other girls from the block. You know how to handle yourself.   I don’t know. You intrigue me.  But no more guns.  I’ve had enough for today.”

Janice opened the door and slid out.  “Ok, I won’t bring my gun.  You gonna bring yours?” She grinned at the double meaning.

Nick snorted.  “You’re crazy.  I better get going before I change my mind.  And hey, not a word to my sister, alright?  I’ll never hear the end of it from that yenta bitch!” he said with an ear to ear grin.  

“See you at 8:00 cowboy.” Janice called out over her shoulder, then sashayed around the corner to where she’d ditched her car.  

As she rounded the corner, she felt like the air had gone out of her all at once.  She nearly didn’t make it to the door, thumbing the remote, and collapsing behind the wheel.

Did that all just happen?  What the… How did he… 8:00?  What am I doing, high school crush or no!  Never mind, I’ll think about that later.  I need to get over to the hospital and look in on him.  On them.  I hope Heather’s ok!

And  if you could, God, could you send me something to help me through this?  I could use a little help.  I feel so alone.  Anyway, thanks for listening.  I’ll try and talk to you a little later to let you know how it’s going.  

Heather took a deep breath before she got up, stretched, and made her way to the exit at the back of the chapel.  Just as she was about to open the door, it opened all by itself, and a short, stubbly older man in black priest garb and white collar walked in and bowled right into her.  

With a startled shriek, Heather was knocked backwards, as the pile of papers and folders cradled in the priest’s arms exploded skyward before beginning their loping end-flipping way back towards the floor.  

He sputtered and straightened his glasses as he clutched the remains of his pile to his chest.  It took a moment before he could properly focus on Heather.  “I do beg your pardon, miss.  I’m in too much of a hurry to mind my own way this morning!”

“Oh… your papers!  Here, let me help you,”  she replied with a shy smile as she knelt on the floor and started gathering the errant sheets.  

When they both had a fairly good armload of his papers, he said.  “Thank you so much, miss. I really should look where I’m going.  I just didn’t expect anyone in the chapel so early.”

“I think you were carrying too much. Here, let me help you get these where you’re going.”

“Oh, no.  No need.  I’ve only got to get these to my office around the corner, in back of the vestibule.  Say… “ he said, taking another look at her, noting the stress on her face.  “You look like you need someone to talk to. Am I right about that?”

“Well…. “ she remembered her silent request of just moments ago.  “Yes, actually… I’d like that.”

“Well, then, I’ll just drop this pile off there, and if you don’t mind a little walking, you can join me on my rounds this morning.  I find, that a little walking gets the mind going, along with a few other things.  Newtons law, you know, applies to more than mere matter. Objects in motion? ”  He looked at her expectantly.

She couldn’t help the smile on her face.  “Stay in motion,” she recited.

He rewarded her with a satisfied nod.  “Yes, quite right.  Unless they crash in a doorway.  Someone listened to their lessons, I see!  Well, I’ll be right back.”

Heather watched as he trundled around the corner, returning a minute later with a cheery look in his face.

“Now, then… What shall we talk about, my dear?” he said amiably as they made their way out of the chapel, turning the corner towards the first floor ward.

“I’d like to ask your opinion on… forgiveness.”  She said, a little embarrassed, but feeling more and more confident that she could tell this kindly old man anything.

“Well, that’s a tall subject, I think.  But it happens to be in my job description, so I may be able to help.   Now, what could burden such a young person as yourself, hmm?”  

“Oh, how to start.  Well… you see… “

They turned the corner of the hospital corridor, leaving the area in front of the chapel to the orderlies and nurses.

“You’re a good boy, Nick.  You always have been.” Gennaro eyes Nick over the top of his glasses.  Nick searched them for emotion, but got nothing.

Never play poker with this guy. Nick resolved.

“This thing with T.  It’s terrible.  But this problem wasn’t made in a day.  It’s going to take a lot of time to turn things around.  Nickey… This is your burden now.  But not the burden that you think it is.  Listen.  Business… has not been good, for a while now.  The way we’ve done things is going away.  In today’s world, you act smart, or you die.”

Nick nodded, waiting, knowing the old man had something, some point that he was making his way towards.  

Here in the private back room of possibly the best restaurant this side of town, Nick’s guts were feeling a size too small to really enjoy the food.  The dark wood, brass hardware, dark red velvet drapes, and an ancient oak table gave this space an air of permanence.

Gennaro picked up his wine glass, considered the color of it  through the window.

“The way we do business today is outdated.  It draws too much attention. For instance… I say drug dealer, everyone says ‘arrest him’.  Now, what can I do to change the conversation?  I say to you, drug dealer… what do you say to that?”

Nick thought.  He thought about the guys pushing stuff on the street.  The rivalries with other organizations.  Supply.  The users.  

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Gennaro prompted.

“I’m thinking… pushers.   Users. Everyone wants to fight those things.  So, not Users.  Customers.  But, no, that’s not quite right…”

Gennaro waited.  

“Patients?  Doctors… prescriptions.… Pain Centers.”  Nick looked up, meeting Gennaro’s eyes.

Gennaro smiled.  “Bravo!  You see? There’s a reason you’re sitting there.  Legitimacy. We have to do things smart.  However, we don’t have to play by all the rules.  Just enough.”  

Nick smiled, relaxing a little.  

“There’s another problem that needs an answer.  I want you to think about it.  The girls of pleasure.  There’s been a lot of problems there.  Murder, theft, financial loss. We feel that line of business is good, but it’s been mishandled.  Some of the girls are particularly a problem.  They have bad habits.  They’ve been treated poorly.  This leads to bad behavior.  And that cannot be tolerated.  So, we’d like to fix this situation. The problem is, it is much more difficult to have problems disappear these days.  How would you fix this?”

“I know these girls.  Most of them, they wouldn’t be a problem if they’d been handled right from the start.  Some of them are pretty smart.  I’d say… Secretaries.  Administrative Assistants.”

“Go on…” Gennaro prompted, his eyes gleaming.

“Instead of disappearing them, we put them to work. Give them good pay.  They know how to keep their mouths shut, so plant them in our legit operations . They can report back if anyone is cutting in on our take.”

He paused… considering.   “They know how to look nice, how to make a man notice.  Some of them could be… what’s that word…’Escorts’.  Executive Escorts for the top brass business guys.  Some….”

He paused again, the picture forming, sweat on his brow.  It was all so clear.  

“If they’ve never been pinched… Some we get hired into positions at large companies.  Congressmen, Senators, if we can.  We could get inside info.  Influence.  Blackmail… We make the best of these girls into spies for us.”

“You are brazen.” Gennaro observed calmly, his smile warm, but his eyes dead cold.  “But these are women.  Some with problems already.  Some with reason to turn on us.  How will you solve this?”

“Get them off the shi… sorry, Gennaro.  We get them to dry out.  We make them offers they can’t refuse, and then, we sweeten it for them. Show them a good life with security.  But also, they will need to be… conditioned.”

“Conditioned?” Gennaro waited, his eyes for the first time showing something.  Excitement?

“Yeah.  They will need to be trained.  Not broken, but disciplined.  Like a military unit.”

“Yes.  Yes, I can see it.  But, this is a skill.  A specialty.  A skill you have?”

“No.  But… I know someone who does.”  Nick replied, feeling feverish.

“Who?”

“A man who owes me his life.  And… his love.”

“And when this man gets out of the hospital… he will do this for you?”  Gennaro grinned at Nick.

Nick let the shock pass through him, that the old man knew.  Of course, he knew.  

“Yeah.  I think he will.  He’s my daughter’s husband.  He’s… Family.”