Roll Me Away: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel (13 page)

T
he most frustrating
thing about the first few hours after my accident, at least the first few I remembered, was not being able to ask what the hell was happening to me. Dr. Wang was good about communicating, but I was dependent on him asking questions I could answer yes or no, and he didn’t always ask the question I wanted him to.

A group of people in scrubs came into my room and began unhooking this and hooking up that, without any explanation. When the bed started moving, I wanted to know where we were going, but no one told me. I remembered Dr. Wang telling me to stay calm, and I remembered the beeps of the monitor getting faster before I blacked out. Not wanting to black out again, I fought for composure.

The moving bed made me dizzy, especially if I watched the ceiling racing by. I closed my eyes, but that made it worse. We rolled into an elevator, and my stomach stayed behind when the floor dropped away. I began gagging around the thing in my throat, and someone leaned over me. “Breathe through your nose,” she said.

That helped, and someone said, “Excellent, Mr. Hayes. We’ll stop in just a moment. Hang in there.”

Not much else I could do.

When the elevator stopped, they rolled me out and into a room that looked bigger than the one I’d been in before the ride. I felt like a piece of meat as hands lifted me, sheet and all, onto a different bed. Someone placed something over my ears that felt like big, old-fashioned headphones.

Then the bed started moving, and I went headfirst into a tunnel. It was so small I feared getting stuck, and I started trying to make sounds. Moving my body was out of the question, and whatever sounds I produced were swallowed by the music playing in my ears. In an effort not to panic, I shut my eyes again.

After some time had passed, I started moving out of the tunnel in the same direction I went in, and when the headphones were lifted, I opened my eyes again.

“Congratulations, Mr. Hayes. You were a model patient.” Laughter came from all around, but no one told me the joke. A pretty woman’s face swam into view.

“We’re going to take you back to your room, now, Mr. Hayes, and then you’ll be able to see your mom and your girlfriend again, if you remain calm.”

Why did everyone fucking want me to remain calm? How was I supposed to stay calm when no one was telling me anything, I couldn’t feel much of anything, and I couldn’t talk? I sent a hateful glare her way, or what I thought was her way. She’d disappeared, and since I couldn’t lift my head, I couldn’t find her.

The elevator started moving upward, but stopped shortly afterward. When the doors opened, a commotion ensued, and I heard a familiar voice.

“We fucking can see him, and we fucking will, or we’ll tear this place apart! That fucker wrecked my bike, and I want to tell him to his face how much trouble he’s in! Pug! Look in there – is that him?”

I groaned, causing someone else to put their face in my view. “Are you in pain, Mr. Hayes?”

Two blinks. But I would be if Jake got to me. I’d never felt more helpless in my life as I heard angry voices raised nearby.

“Let go of the call button. There’s no room for you in here. Wait for the next one.”

“I want to talk to that guy on the bed.”

“Let go, or I’ll call security.”

“Fucking
call
security, bitch.”

The sounds of a struggle, and then the elevator doors mercifully closed. I hoped my room was way the hell up, top floor, whatever. That would give these hospital pukes some time to make sure I was protected before Jake and the gang made their way up the stairs. Maybe they wouldn’t even know where I’d been taken.

A
disorienting series
of turns came next, before my bed was parked back in the same room where I’d woken up earlier. While some hands fluttered around me, Dr. Wang came in. Where the hell had he been while all this crap was going on? He let me see his face, and then backed away.

“Mr. Hayes, it seems you have a committee from your ah, club, who want to speak to you. They are causing quite a disturbance. We have offered to call the police, but the leader has said we need to ask you if that is what you want. Do you want us to call the police?”

It was an impossible choice. If I told him no, I’d be helpless if Jake and the others forced their way in here. The consequences could be deadly, or worse. If I told him yes, I’d be burning all bridges to the club. Wang talked again before I could decide what to blink.

“I should tell you the MRI revealed you have a partial injury. This means you have a very good chance at recovery of most of your body’s functions. However, your injury is such that any jarring movement could create further damage, potentially completing it and therefore leaving you paralyzed below the chest.”

Terror seized me. Full paralysis below the chest! I widened my eyes to show him I was scared.

“I repeat. Do you want us to call the police?”

One blink. And with that blink, I set myself outside the club forever.

T
he doctor nodded
at us as he went into Zach’s room. He had a faint smile, which told us nothing. He also had an air of tension surrounding him, almost palpable in the waiting room. I clutched Rose’s hand and she squeezed back.

The answer was there, in the chart in his hand, but we wouldn’t hear it until Zach had. Every fiber of my body wanted to rush in behind him, be there for Zach when he heard, and hold him when he learned his life as he knew it was over. Tears leaked from my eyes unchecked.

Rose was sobbing openly, and since I couldn’t reach Zach, I enfolded her and we rocked together, waiting through an eternity. Minutes passed, and then the elevator opened again and half a dozen policemen spilled out.

What new hell was this going to be? Had Zach caused the accident? Were there other victims? Rose bore the look I could feel on my face. She wanted to ask. Her mouth parted, but she couldn’t get the words out. Neither could I.

One officer went to the nurse’s station and spoke in low tones to the charge nurse there. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Two positioned themselves on either side of Zach’s door, while the rest spread out through the floor, some disappearing from sight. The one who spoke to the nurse approached us.

“Mrs. Hayes?”

“Schafer,” she answered. “I remarried.”

“Mrs. Schafer then. Is there someone who could come and pick you up? We have a situation, and I’m instructed to get you to safety. Who is this?”

With his last question, he acknowledged my presence for the first time. Rose answered, “This is my son’s girlfriend, and we’re not going anywhere until we learn more about his condition. What’s going on?”

“Ma’am, is your son involved with a motorcycle club that calls themselves the Dust Devils?”

Rose closed her eyes as an expression of pain crept over her features. My heart sank.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Apparently, he’s done something to rile them up. They’re downstairs creating a disturbance. We were called to handle it, and one of the people involved made threats against your son. Now, I understand your reluctance to leave, but we aren’t sure how many of them there are and what further action they’ll take against the hospital. We’re evacuating everyone who can leave.”

“How many are down there?” I asked.

He looked at me. “Five, I believe. Do you know about them?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw my supervisor and the head of security exiting the elevator and walking toward us. I gulped. The next thing I said could bring my career to a screeching halt. But for the sake of everyone in the hospital, I had to answer. “Yes.”

The officer gripped my arm and marched me toward a seat in the waiting room. I glanced at my supervisor, who was making a beeline for us. There was no way to avoid her hearing what I was about to say.

“That’s all of the hotheads, officer. The club is small, not more than thirty members, most of whom are the sons of the original members. Most of them are harmless. If the ones downstairs are Jake, Pug, Snail, Gears, and Hoss, there aren’t any more to worry about.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, sir.”

Just then, my supervisor butted in. “Cricket, do you mean to tell me you’re involved with a motorcycle gang?”

I stared at her without answering. Instead, I asked, “Why are you here?”

“I was informed there was a disturbance involving your boyfriend. Your name came up.”

“In what context?”

She glanced at the security officer next to her. “Before the police got here and arrested him, the person who created the disturbance yelled, ‘Tell that cunt Cricket that this is all her fault. She’d better be ready to suck my dick every night for a month if she doesn’t want me to kill that fucker Zach.’ Do I have that correct, Officer Daniels?” The big security guy at her side nodded, staring steadily at me.

My ears were ringing. Rose had heard, and gasped at every ugly word my supervisor quoted. Daniels spoke for the first time. “Are you the Cricket the perp was speaking of?”

I looked helplessly from one to another of the four people who stood in a half-circle before me, preventing my escape. I hung my head. “Yes.”

“You’re fired,” snapped my supervisor. I was still in my probationary period. I knew she could do it. The sound of my career going down the drain batted at my ears.

“You can’t do that,” Rose protested. “She didn’t have anything to do with those people! Tell her, Cricket.”

“Then how did they know her name? How does she know theirs? We can’t have her kind working here. Give me your badge,” she directed me.

I lifted the lanyard from my neck slowly, pulled it over my head, and handed it to her. The badge hung from it like a flag of defeat. “Now clear out. You’re banned from the hospital.”

This time, Rose and I both gasped. “I can’t!” I wailed. “Zach!”

“Daniels, escort Miss Baxter from the building.”

I cast an imploring glance at the real police officer, but there was no help there. All I could hope was that Jake’s entire crew had been arrested, or I was in more danger than Daniels could know. I tried to tell him.

“You don’t know what they’ll do to me! Please! You can’t just kick me out. At least escort me home. Please!”

My begging fell on deaf ears. As we reached the main doors of the hospital, Daniels stepped out with me just far enough to get me all the way out, and then let go of my arm.

“Wait!” One last plea he had to listen to. “My purse! It’s in my locker. I need it.”

“Wait here.”

T
hey’d removed
my airway tube without explanation. Guess it was okay, because I was breathing all right on my own. No one had come to tell me exactly what the MRI showed, but I took the ‘extubation’, as they called it, as good news. Dr. Wang had said good chance for ‘most’ of my body’s functions.

I wanted to know which ones he thought I wouldn’t recover. Still, my throat was sore, and I didn’t want to talk much. It was a case of hoping he came in soon and hoping he waited until tomorrow at the same time.

Voices in the hall made me believe there were guards on my door. I didn’t know if I was being protected or held prisoner. For all I knew, Jake’s bike had been stuffed full of cocaine or meth. He’d asked me to ride it on one of my errands to Rawlins so Carl could look at a problem while he was busy with ‘other club business’.

Naturally, he didn’t tell me what the ‘other club business’ was, and I didn’t give any clue that I had a pretty good idea. I’d been bummed that I wasn’t fully patched in yet, even after scoring two bikes for the club, but I had been told Smokey would likely award me a small cut of the profit off the top even though I wasn’t entitled to it. When they sold, I’d have enough money to buy my ride, finally. I missed riding.

It wasn’t so easy to get on a bike, once I bunked at the clubhouse. No one wanted to loan their ride, so when we went out as a club, I was in the chase vehicle with Sarge or Doc, depending on where we were going. Doc didn’t get out much unless it was really important, like Sturgis.

So I jumped at the chance to take Jake’s for a spin. I should have thought it through. Now not only was I lying in a hospital bed, possibly broken beyond repair, but Jake was reportedly up in arms about the loss of his bike. And who knew if evidence found on it was going to send me away for a nice, long, all-expense paid vacation on the State’s dime.

Bitterly, I reflected on the reality versus my glamorized idea of being a member of the Dust Devils. So far, it was far from the best decision I’d ever made. Was I willing to go to prison for Jake? If not, did I dare cross the club? I hadn’t been let into the deepest secrets. From what I understood, ratting would get me killed. And what if I was even partially disabled? Would they send me to prison if I was paralyzed? Would I survive prison itself if they did?

I was beginning to go to a very bad place in my head when the doc walked in. He took the brunt of it. In my croaky voice, rusty from disuse and with a sore throat from the intubation, I asked, “Is someone going to fucking tell me what shit life I have to look forward to now?”

Dr. Wang hesitated with his mouth partly open and his eyes as wide open as he could get them. Then he composed his expression and came closer.

“As I told you, Mr. Hayes, we believe you can recover most of your bodily functions. I am afraid it will be a long journey, however.”

“Just tell me this, then. Will my dick still work?”

An expression of distaste crossed his features. “Probably. You may require some adjustments in, ah, technique.”

Probably. Fuck that. If I couldn’t be a man, I might as well off myself, assuming my hands would work well enough to pull a trigger. Without realizing it, I flexed them.

“Very good, Mr. Hayes!” Wang exclaimed. “I came in to tell you that an occupational therapist will be here shortly to test your nerve and muscle function. Already you have demonstrated that you have some use of your hands. This is a very good sign.”

I couldn’t summon much enthusiasm, though it was looking a little less bleak. “When? How long will it be before someone can tell me if I’ll walk again, or ride again?”

“You must be patient Mr. Hayes. These tests take time, and in addition, you will experience a greater or lesser degree of healing, changing the prognosis from day to day. Suffice it to say, I doubt you’ll be riding anymore this year. By the time the weather is suitable next year, perhaps. You will have to work for it.”

I didn’t appreciate the roller coaster. The flash of anger when I realized I was done for the next several months, followed by the glimmer of hope that next spring would bring better news. But I did understand the last sentence, and I took it as a challenge. I knew how to work. If that would return my life to me, I could do it.

“Do you have any more questions for me, Mr. Hayes? If not, there’s a young lady outside who’d like to see you. Do you feel up to a visit?”

Cricket. Had to be. None of the Bunnies would be giving me the time of day now. And I didn’t have that many friends otherwise. What was I going to tell her? That she might as well go on home to her family and forget about me? “I don’t think so,” I replied.

“Very well. Please try to cooperate with the occupational therapist, though. It will be in your best interest.”

“Whatever.”

I waited anxiously outside Zach’s room while the doctor spoke to him. Dr. Wang had promised to ask Zach if he’d see me, since only authorized persons were getting past the guards. I didn’t think he’d turn me away, but I wasn’t so sure about hospital security, if anyone recognized me.

To prevent that, I’d put on heavy makeup, purchased a turquoise wig, and was wearing heavy plastic-framed glasses with non-prescription lenses. I’d wanted sunglasses, but Rose pointed out that would look suspicious.

At least we’d be able to talk. Dr. Wang, who was just as guilty of my intrusion as I was, had told me they’d removed Zach’s airway. I had no idea why he was sympathetic to me or my cause, but Rose had recruited him to sneak me into the hospital.

I hoped to talk to him about Zach’s condition and prognosis after my visit. With the loss of my job, I had no more time to waffle over whether to stay with Zach. I had to make a decision. If I was going, it had to be soon. If I was staying, I probably needed to find a part-time job somewhere, also soon.

Rose seemed to understand my dilemma, though we hadn’t discussed it. It seemed to me she was sympathetic to our relationship, and maybe she wanted some help with his care, too. I knew enough to be aware his road to healing could be long and painful.

Which brought me back around to needing to know just what I’d be facing. Sure, I cared about Zach. Cared deeply, in fact. I just didn’t know if that caring had reached the stage of unconditional love that could stand the stresses of caring for a chronic patient.

All my concerns about my health went out the window when Doc Wang emerged from Zach’s room with his forehead bunched into a frown. My pulse started racing within seconds. What was wrong? Had Zach taken a turn for the worse? I rushed to the doctor and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Tell me he’s okay!”

He took my wrists and gently freed his shoulders from my grip. “Calm yourself, Miss Bax… I mean… calm yourself.” He looked around to see if anyone had heard his near-gaffe in starting to call me by name. Not seeing anyone near, he went on. “Zach is fine. That is, he’s stable, and nothing has happened to alarm us. However, he isn’t taking his situation well. He’d rather not see anyone right now.”

I slumped. Relief, grief, and a sudden dread that he’d take my choice out of my hands before I’d had a chance to make it overwhelmed me, and I burst into tears.

“There, there,” Wang said. It was almost comical enough to make me stop crying on the spot. Who said that? It sounded like he’d stepped out of the pages of a nineteenth-century novel. While he awkwardly patted me, he offered sympathy and advice. “I can see that you love him. You may want to take advantage of our hospital’s support groups for partners of traumatic injury patients. Don’t worry, this is just a phase. Right now, he’s frightened and angry. He will come to terms with his injury before long, and while he may still be frightened and angry, he’ll come to accept that he needs your support.”

Fine words, but Dr. Wang didn’t know the true state of our relationship. It hadn’t matured to that level. He saw more in my tears than I did, and it made me feel like a fraud. However, I wasn’t going to correct him. If I was ever to sort this out, I needed his help to come and go in the hospital. I might as well let him think the best of me, while I was thinking the worst and trying to decide what to do.

“Thank you, Dr. Wang. Can you tell me anything about his condition?”

“No, I’m sorry. Until we have permission from him, I can’t.”

“But, Rose, his mother, said…”

“Unfortunately, because Mr. Hayes is an adult and is now conscious and deemed competent, even his mother requires his permission to access his medical records. You’ll just have to wait until he’s ready, I’m afraid.” Wang made a move as if to go, but I put my hand on his arm to delay him.

“Please. Then give me a general overview. Tell me the worst-case scenario. What will I have to learn to do in order to take care of him?”

Dr. Wang looked at his watch. “I have a short break for dinner. Would you care to join me in the cafeteria?”

“I…”

“Oh, of course, that won’t do. Across the street then. Do you like Mexican?”

The thought of an Asian doctor eating at the Mexican restaurant across the street, which was a dive if I’d ever seen one, tickled me into giving a short bark of a laugh. He smiled, wreathing his round face in well-established laugh wrinkles. He held out his arm, crooked at the elbow, and escorted me gallantly to the elevator.

I
couldn’t say
I enjoyed the dinner conversation. Between peering out the window anxiously to make sure there were no Dust Devils lurking about to attack me and the distasteful realities of caring for a quadriplegic punctuating the conversation, I couldn’t eat. When Dr. Wang finished up his crash course in caretaker necessities, he asked if I’d like a box for my meal, and when I declined, asked for one anyway.

“Let me pay for your meal, since I will be taking it home,” he said. “I hope you do not object.”

Bemused, I shook my head. I enjoyed the momentary distraction in wondering what in the world a doctor was doing taking home a doggy bag. Maybe he had a dog. A dog that liked Mexican food. The thought made me giggle. Maybe there was life after Zach’s crash after all.

As we parted, I thanked him for his kindness and asked him to let Zach know I sent my love. Even if that turned out not to be where we ended up, I did love him right now. I’d be heartbroken if he never came around and let me see him, if only for the closure.

I
called Rose
, who came to pick me up right away. She’d gone home for a nap once Zach was pronounced stable, and was eager to learn how my visit with Zach had gone.

“It didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

I looked over at her, while she concentrated on driving. Her hands were white with her grip on the wheel, and her jaw worked.

“He wouldn’t see me.”

I was lucky I was wearing a seatbelt, as she jammed her foot on the brake. ‘He what?”

“He wouldn’t see me. Told Dr. Wang he wasn’t up to seeing anyone. But I think it was just me. You could probably visit.” I twisted my hands in my lap as I confessed it, but I schooled my expression to neutral. “Dr. Wang said this is just a phase. I hope it’s a short one. I need to…”

“Don’t say it! Please, Cricket. Don’t make me believe you’d leave him. He loves you.”

“Does he?”