True to the Game III (3 page)

The two of them headed for the elevator.

Game Plan

A
melia moved through the parking garage with the ferocity of a cheetah on the prowl. Her determined steps took her rapidly through the parking structure to the secluded corner where her meeting was to take place. The person with whom she was to meet was already there.

“Viola Richards?” she asked.

Viola nodded. “What’s going on? Why did you ask for me to meet you here?”

Amelia peered around the parking garage to make sure they were alone. Still, she thought it best that they move to the even more secluded second level. She clasped Viola’s arm and led her off.

“I wanted to meet you here because I had some questions about your son. I operated on him in the emergency room.”

Viola sniffled. “Do the police have any suspects or leads in the case?” she asked, shaking her head. “You know how they are. My son was a young black man whose occupation was questionable. In situations like these, they don’t care about finding the killers. They just chalk him up as another statistic.”

Amelia nodded. She knew exactly what Viola Richards was talking about. Young black men, drug dealer or no drug dealer, were all statistics. They would lump their deaths in one of two categories: drug related or gang related.

“I take it that you don’t have great faith in our police department,” Amelia observed.

“Could as well been them that killed my baby,” Viola told her.

Amelia nodded. Good. She now knew that Viola was no fan of the police department, which meant that in all probability she would cooperate with her request.

“Any idea who did this to your son?”

Viola shook her head. “No, it could have been anybody. You know how things are; nobody wants to be a snitch. It could be your best friend, your mama, even your own child. That’s just the way it is.”

“Take care of it in the streets, huh?”

Mrs. Richards nodded. “But the only problem with that is that it’s just more kids getting killed.”

Amelia nodded. “I believe in taking care of our own.”

Amelia led Viola to the upper level of the parking garage and stopped just in front of a black Mercedes S Class. “Are you a religious woman, Mrs. Richards?”

“Of course. I go to church every Sunday.”

“Sometimes God has a plan for each of us. And sometimes we don’t understand what His plan is. Sometimes he works in ways so mysterious, even we doctors can’t explain it.”

“Amen! I know that’s right.”

“Sometimes when we doctors have exhausted all medical means possible, God steps in with His hand and touches a person. Even when we have given up, sometimes God says
I ain’t done using this person yet.
”

Viola smiled. “I know that my Quadir is with the Lord. I know that God still has a plan for him, and for each of us.” She clasped Amelia’s hand and shook it. “I want to thank you for all that you did to try to save my son.”

Amelia smiled. “Don’t thank me just yet. You may want to lean up against this car right here.”

Viola leaned back against the Mercedes and stared at Amelia. She was truly puzzled.

“After the surgeon worked on your son, he thought that he had lost him. He declared your son deceased. A short time later, an orderly went into the room and found that your son was not dead.”

Viola clasped her chest and her knees buckled. Amelia caught her and held her up.

“I rushed into the operating room, and I began to operate on your son. I found the bullet that the surgeon could not retrieve, and I was able to repair the damage to your son.”

Viola stared at her in bewilderment.

Amelia smiled and nodded. “Quadir is alive,” she whispered.

Viola gasped and began to slide to the ground again. Amelia could not hold her up this time. Tears flowed from Viola’s eyes, and she began to kiss Amelia’s hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh, dear Lord, thank you! My baby is alive! Thank you!”

Amelia knelt down beside her. “We don’t know who tried to kill Quadir. We have to be very, very careful. I want to keep him alive. I don’t want to tell anyone that he is alive, understand?”

Viola nodded.

“I don’t know who I can trust. Does he have a wife?”

Viola frowned at the thought of Gena. She never had liked the girl, but that was her son’s choice, not hers. “He has a girlfriend and they were engaged, but they hadn’t tied the knot. Even still, though, I don’t want to tell nobody! Nobody! Don’t call nobody else, doc.”

Amelia nodded. “I haven’t informed the police.”

“Good! Don’t tell them neither!”

“Quadir is in stable but critical condition. These next few days are going to be really important for him.”

“Can I see him, doctor?”

“Eventually, yes. But right now, to have you coming up to the hospital . . .”

She nodded again. “I understand. Just do whatever it is you’re doing. Just keep doing your thing, baby!” Viola wrapped her arms around Amelia and hugged her as tight as she could.

“I love you,” Viola began crying heavily. “I don’t know you, but I love you, baby. I love you so much. You brought my baby back to me.”

Amelia rose and helped Viola to her feet. “We are going to have to be smart on this one.”

“Whatever you need, baby, you just tell me.”

“We can’t let anyone catch on, especially the fiancée. We can’t let her snoop around. I’ve taken care of the autopsy report. The death certificate has already been signed by another doctor. I have a body from the morgue with Quadir’s chart on it.”

“A body.”

“He was a John Doe. No one has claimed him for some time. He was young, about Quadir’s age, decent shape. Probably homeless, maybe even a drug addict. He probably has no family, so to speak, and his looks are perfect to allow him to pass for Quadir.”

Mrs. Richardson nodded solemnly.

“So, tomorrow you can have the undertaker pick him up, okay,” Amelia asked, hoping Quadir’s mother was following her line. “And you’ll take care of the fiancée, right? Make sure she doesn’t make trouble for us.”

“Oh, I think I can handle that. I can definitely keep her from getting into things. Once I get into his house, I can control everything.”
The first thing will be to put her ass out. Once I get rid of Gena, everything will work itself out,
Viola couldn’t help but think to herself. “Mmm-hmm, I can get in there, control things. Keep her from his papers, his money, and all the things that she can use to mess things up for us.”

Amelia nodded.

Viola bounced up and down slightly. “I can’t believe my baby is alive!”

Amelia nodded.

“When can I see him?”

“I’ll call you and let you know. Once he’s fully conscious, and feeling a lot better, I’ll get you into the hospital.”

“Was there any permanent damage to anything? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ll take him as a vegetable, as long as he’s alive.”

“I understand. It’s a perfectly normal question. Right now, I think that only time will tell. I don’t believe that there will be any permanent damage, but again, time will let us know. He will need therapy, lots of rehabilitation, a good diet of soft foods at first.”

“Are you going to see it through?”

“Huh?”

“I know how things go. You’re a doctor; you have other patients. I just don’t want you to pass him on down the line to a bunch of other doctors and therapists and who knows who else. I want you to look after my baby.”

Amelia nodded. “I’ll see him through, Mrs. Richards. I’ll see him through.”

Viola hugged Amelia once again. “What church do you go to?”

“I go to First Baptist in Germantown,” Amelia replied.

“Come to church with me this Sunday. Please.”

Amelia hesitated for several moments, and then relented. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Thank you, so much.” Viola kissed the doctor on her cheek. “Your parents must be so proud of you! I’m so proud of you, and I just met you! Where are you from?”

“Alabama.”

“Alabama! Wow, you sure are far away from home. Do you have any family in these parts?”

Amelia shook her head. “No, just my patients.”

“You poor, sweet thing, I want you to come to dinner at our house on Sunday after church! You can just call your folks in Alabama and tell them that you got stolen by a crazy lady in Philadelphia! I’m adopting your butt! I know you like soul food!”

Amelia nodded. “Raised on it.”

“Girl, my collard greens will make you wanna slap your mama!”

Amelia threw her head back and laughed. She liked Viola. She knew then and there that she had just found a foster family in her new city.

Dr. Do Good

A
melia rushed into Quadir’s hospital room, closing the door behind her.

“Your name is John Smith. Do you understand me?”

“What?”

“I said your name is John Smith.”

“Why do you keep telling me that?” Quadir asked.

“I’m telling you again today, in case you didn’t understand me the other day. You were still a little out of it. But understand me, this is extremely important.”

“Why?”

“Because someone tried to kill you, and because I sent Quadir Richards’s body to a funeral home, where they held a funeral service for it and buried it almost two weeks ago. Quadir Richards is dead. John Smith, someone whom no one wants dead, is alive and well in the hospital. Understand?”

Quadir nodded. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you trying to help me?”

“Let’s just say I promised someone that I would see things through.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Amelia shouted.

The door opened, and two gentlemen in white hospital coats walked in.

“How’s he doing today?” one of them asked.

Amelia nodded. “Cranky. But alive.”

“That’s a good sign.” He extended his hand to Quadir. “Hello, young man. My name is Dr. Benjamin Brant. How are you feeling today?”

Quadir nodded. “Doing pretty well, doc.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Any pain anywhere?”

“No.”

“That’s good. You feel any discomfort, you let the nurses know, and they’ll give you something for the pain. We want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“Thank you, doc.”

“Don’t thank me; thank Dr. Hopkins over there. She’s the one who saved your life. You’re a very lucky young man, you know that? You’re fortunate that she was here that day.”

Quadir turned and stared at her. She was young, black, and country as all out backwoods. He had thought that she was a nurse or something. But the doctor was now telling him that she was a doctor, too. A surgeon, in fact the surgeon who saved his life.
Ain’t this a bitch?

Amelia lifted Quadir’s chart. “I want you to go easy on the medication. I’ve written up the orders to start your therapy today.”

Amelia turned and waved her hand toward the second gentleman in the room. “This is Neal Ryan, your physical therapist. Neal is the best we have here at Hahnemann Hospital, and probably the best in Philly. He’s going to get you back up and running in no time.”

Neal extended his hand to Quadir. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

Quadir clasped Neal’s hand and shook it.

“We’re going to have you back up to a hundred percent before you know it,” Neal told him. “Can you move your leg for me?”

“Well, I’ll leave you guys alone. I have some more patients to peek in on,” Dr. Brant told them. He patted Quadir’s arm. “You get better, young man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, doc,” Quadir said.

Brant exited the room, leaving Quadir, Neal, and Amelia alone.

“Okay, try to move your leg again for me,” Neal said.

Quadir stared down at his legs, but neither of them moved. “I can’t move them, I can’t move my legs!”

“Relax, it just takes time.” Neal reassured him.

“Relax? What the fuck do you mean, relax? I can’t move my fucking legs!”

“Okay, calm down,” Neal told him.

“I can’t move my legs!” Quadir cried out.

Neal turned toward Amelia.

“He’s not paralyzed.” Amelia shook her head. “There may be some internal scarring that we didn’t know about. I’ll order some X-rays.”

Neal placed his hand beneath Quadir’s leg and bent it. “I can feel your nerves jumping and your muscles contracting. Try to force your leg straight.”

Quadir’s face contorted as he tried to force his leg straight.

Neal turned to Amelia and shook his head. Nothing.

Amelia examined Quadir’s chart. She made several notations on it. “I’m modifying your diet. Right now I have you on liquids and soft foods. I’m going to slowly adjust it to include more and more solids. I want to increase your proteins and lean foods. Also, I’m ordering a dietary supplement to be given twice a day.”

“I’m going to add the pool to his therapy regimen also,” Neal told her. “I think starting him off slow with some water resistance would be good.” He faced Quadir. “From what I can tell, your muscles have been used to doing nothing for the past few weeks. We’re just going to have to whip them back into shape. I want to get you down there into our therapeutic pool and get you started today. It’s a heated pool, really warm water, and it should feel good to your body. It may also cause the internal swelling to go down a bit. How’s that sound?”

“Like a bunch of medical bullshit!” Quadir told him.

Neal smiled. “I’m going to run and get the pool ready, take care of some paperwork, and I’ll be back with a wheelchair.”

Neal turned and exited the room. Amelia replaced Quadir’s chart.

“I’m paralyzed,” Quadir said flatly, unable to believe it, and at that very moment wishing he was dead.

“You are not.”

“Bullshit! I can’t move my legs!”

“I’m the doctor here, and I’m telling you that you’re not paralyzed! You’re just lazy.”

“Oh, like I wanna be stuck in this fucking bed!”

“Why is it that when Dr. Brant or one of the white doctors come around, it’s yes, sir, no, sir, thank you, doctor. But with me, it’s fuck, bullshit, and every other curse word that you can think of?”

“What?”

“Is it because I’m young, black, or a woman? What is it? Whatever happened to manners?”