Night Shift
Page 65
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This was not real information. She was being soothed. Fiji expected that next the nurse would offer to pray with her. “I need something a little more specific than that,” she said, but her voice was too weak to have authority.
“Now that you’re awake, a doctor’s going to come talk with you,” the nurse said. “She’ll be here in just a minute.”
It was more than a minute. In fact, Fiji went back to sleep. She woke when an older woman in a white lab coat came in.
“Ms. Cavanaugh, I’m Dr. Sheridan,” the woman said. Her gray hair was in a smooth pageboy, and her glasses, hanging from a chain, had flirty red frames. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”
Fiji decided to tell the truth with some omissions. “I saw my friend Olivia get shot and I went to pull her to safety,” she said slowly, editing as she spoke. She was finally feeling warm, and her voice came out stronger. She’d stopped shivering. “When I saw the man in the car who had shot Olivia, he pointed the gun at me. I was really scared he was going to shoot me, and I couldn’t protect Olivia or myself. Then his hand kind of fell on the car seat, and he had a fit, I guess? I was just . . . I couldn’t breathe, and I thought he was going to kill me, and maybe I fainted.”
“I don’t think you fainted, which is a momentary thing,” Dr. Sheridan said gently. “I’m not sure if you hyperventilated, or had a severe panic attack, or both, but you were unconscious for a good ten minutes. We have to rule out some kind of heart event.”
“So that’s a long time to be out?” Fiji said.
“That’s a long time to be out.” Dr. Sheridan was obviously trying to make Fiji understand that she’d suffered a serious event, while trying to avoid setting off another “panic attack.”
“When you came into the emergency room, we ran an EKG, and the results were fine, so that’s good news. Your blood work isn’t all back, of course, but nothing popped out at a first look.”
“I kind of remember that,” Fiji said, trying out a smile. She’d been woozy but awake by that time. “Aside from feeling really tired, I feel much better now.” Fiji knew exactly what was wrong with her. She’d strained her “magic muscles” when she’d channeled too much energy into killing the old man. She suspected she’d probably expended way more energy than she’d actually needed to use, and in consequence her body had shut down to protect its depleted resources.
She’d know better next time.
For a few minutes, the doctor took Fiji over her medical history, which was very simple and blameless, and then over her family’s medical history, which was quite typical of any fairly healthy family.
By the time that was done, Fiji had decided she liked Dr. Sheridan.
“I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better. But you need to consider having some tests run. We sure don’t want to see you back here again.” The doctor smiled at Fiji benevolently. Fiji had been enjoying the conversation, because it was free of the man she’d killed and the demon under the road and who she was going to have sex with. But now she felt tired, and reality crept up on her again.
“Let’s talk about any more tests later,” Fiji said. “I’m really feeling better.”
“Of course. Right now, the sheriff wants to talk to you. Do you think you’re well enough to do that?”
“Yes,” Fiji said. “Thanks for everything.”
Arthur Smith himself came in. Fiji was both glad and sorry to see him. Arthur was in uniform, and he looked tired, but he also seemed curiously content. After a second, Fiji decided that Arthur looked relaxed. So apparently he hadn’t been, the whole time she’d known him.
“Hey, Fiji, how are you feeling?” He reached to take her hand, and then withdrew his own so quickly Fiji almost thought she had imagined the gesture. Perhaps he had rethought it after remembering she had some explaining to do.
“Better,” she said. Now that her core was warm, she felt drowsy. She wished passionately that she were home in her own bed with Mr. Snuggly purring beside her. After all, she was still in her own nightgown, though her bathrobe was hanging on a hook on the wall, her slippers on the floor underneath it.
“Did anyone check on Mr. Snuggly?” she asked, suddenly afraid something had happened to the cat.
“I saw him,” Arthur said. “The kid in your shop coaxed him out from under the Hummer.”
Fiji stared at Arthur. “He was under the car,” she said, almost asking a question. “Oh, poor Snug,” she added hastily. “He must have been terrified.”
“The boy carried him off, and I didn’t see them again,” Arthur said.
Fiji relaxed. Diederik would feed and take care of Mr. Snuggly, or the cat would nag him relentlessly. Now if only Arthur didn’t start asking questions about Diederik. His lack of paperwork would be awkward.
“If you feel you’re up to it, I do have some questions to ask you,” Arthur said. He was standing by the bed rail, gripping it lightly.
“Sure,” she said, trying to make her own hands relax. “About the shooting.”
“Sure. Had you ever seen that man, the one in the stretch Hummer?”
“Never.”
“Any of those men familiar to you?” Arthur’s wide blue eyes were fixed on her face.
“No.” It was a pleasure to tell the plain truth.
“What happened? Just take your time. We’re trying to figure this out. Every detail helps.”
Fiji was glad he’d told her to take her time. She did. “I heard all the commotion across the street, and I came running out,” Fiji said. (Best to omit that the Rev had called her. That was not explainable.) “The Rev and Quinn were standing in my front yard. Diederik was just going in the side door of the pawnshop, or maybe Quinn told me he’d gone in. I don’t remember which.”
Arthur nodded, to show her he was listening.
“I saw all the men had guns. They were moving toward the pawnshop. Slowly.”
“Did you realize there was someone left in the Hummer?” Arthur asked quietly.
“I never thought about it at all. The windows were tinted dark. The doors on the pawnshop side were open.”
“What happened next?”
“I thought all the men were going to go into the pawnshop. I was scared for Bobo. And Olivia and Lemuel.” Fiji took a deep, shuddering breath, remembering the fear. If she had really been uncertain how she felt about Bobo, she now knew. “Then Diederik and Olivia came out. And Bobo.”
“Now that you’re awake, a doctor’s going to come talk with you,” the nurse said. “She’ll be here in just a minute.”
It was more than a minute. In fact, Fiji went back to sleep. She woke when an older woman in a white lab coat came in.
“Ms. Cavanaugh, I’m Dr. Sheridan,” the woman said. Her gray hair was in a smooth pageboy, and her glasses, hanging from a chain, had flirty red frames. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”
Fiji decided to tell the truth with some omissions. “I saw my friend Olivia get shot and I went to pull her to safety,” she said slowly, editing as she spoke. She was finally feeling warm, and her voice came out stronger. She’d stopped shivering. “When I saw the man in the car who had shot Olivia, he pointed the gun at me. I was really scared he was going to shoot me, and I couldn’t protect Olivia or myself. Then his hand kind of fell on the car seat, and he had a fit, I guess? I was just . . . I couldn’t breathe, and I thought he was going to kill me, and maybe I fainted.”
“I don’t think you fainted, which is a momentary thing,” Dr. Sheridan said gently. “I’m not sure if you hyperventilated, or had a severe panic attack, or both, but you were unconscious for a good ten minutes. We have to rule out some kind of heart event.”
“So that’s a long time to be out?” Fiji said.
“That’s a long time to be out.” Dr. Sheridan was obviously trying to make Fiji understand that she’d suffered a serious event, while trying to avoid setting off another “panic attack.”
“When you came into the emergency room, we ran an EKG, and the results were fine, so that’s good news. Your blood work isn’t all back, of course, but nothing popped out at a first look.”
“I kind of remember that,” Fiji said, trying out a smile. She’d been woozy but awake by that time. “Aside from feeling really tired, I feel much better now.” Fiji knew exactly what was wrong with her. She’d strained her “magic muscles” when she’d channeled too much energy into killing the old man. She suspected she’d probably expended way more energy than she’d actually needed to use, and in consequence her body had shut down to protect its depleted resources.
She’d know better next time.
For a few minutes, the doctor took Fiji over her medical history, which was very simple and blameless, and then over her family’s medical history, which was quite typical of any fairly healthy family.
By the time that was done, Fiji had decided she liked Dr. Sheridan.
“I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better. But you need to consider having some tests run. We sure don’t want to see you back here again.” The doctor smiled at Fiji benevolently. Fiji had been enjoying the conversation, because it was free of the man she’d killed and the demon under the road and who she was going to have sex with. But now she felt tired, and reality crept up on her again.
“Let’s talk about any more tests later,” Fiji said. “I’m really feeling better.”
“Of course. Right now, the sheriff wants to talk to you. Do you think you’re well enough to do that?”
“Yes,” Fiji said. “Thanks for everything.”
Arthur Smith himself came in. Fiji was both glad and sorry to see him. Arthur was in uniform, and he looked tired, but he also seemed curiously content. After a second, Fiji decided that Arthur looked relaxed. So apparently he hadn’t been, the whole time she’d known him.
“Hey, Fiji, how are you feeling?” He reached to take her hand, and then withdrew his own so quickly Fiji almost thought she had imagined the gesture. Perhaps he had rethought it after remembering she had some explaining to do.
“Better,” she said. Now that her core was warm, she felt drowsy. She wished passionately that she were home in her own bed with Mr. Snuggly purring beside her. After all, she was still in her own nightgown, though her bathrobe was hanging on a hook on the wall, her slippers on the floor underneath it.
“Did anyone check on Mr. Snuggly?” she asked, suddenly afraid something had happened to the cat.
“I saw him,” Arthur said. “The kid in your shop coaxed him out from under the Hummer.”
Fiji stared at Arthur. “He was under the car,” she said, almost asking a question. “Oh, poor Snug,” she added hastily. “He must have been terrified.”
“The boy carried him off, and I didn’t see them again,” Arthur said.
Fiji relaxed. Diederik would feed and take care of Mr. Snuggly, or the cat would nag him relentlessly. Now if only Arthur didn’t start asking questions about Diederik. His lack of paperwork would be awkward.
“If you feel you’re up to it, I do have some questions to ask you,” Arthur said. He was standing by the bed rail, gripping it lightly.
“Sure,” she said, trying to make her own hands relax. “About the shooting.”
“Sure. Had you ever seen that man, the one in the stretch Hummer?”
“Never.”
“Any of those men familiar to you?” Arthur’s wide blue eyes were fixed on her face.
“No.” It was a pleasure to tell the plain truth.
“What happened? Just take your time. We’re trying to figure this out. Every detail helps.”
Fiji was glad he’d told her to take her time. She did. “I heard all the commotion across the street, and I came running out,” Fiji said. (Best to omit that the Rev had called her. That was not explainable.) “The Rev and Quinn were standing in my front yard. Diederik was just going in the side door of the pawnshop, or maybe Quinn told me he’d gone in. I don’t remember which.”
Arthur nodded, to show her he was listening.
“I saw all the men had guns. They were moving toward the pawnshop. Slowly.”
“Did you realize there was someone left in the Hummer?” Arthur asked quietly.
“I never thought about it at all. The windows were tinted dark. The doors on the pawnshop side were open.”
“What happened next?”
“I thought all the men were going to go into the pawnshop. I was scared for Bobo. And Olivia and Lemuel.” Fiji took a deep, shuddering breath, remembering the fear. If she had really been uncertain how she felt about Bobo, she now knew. “Then Diederik and Olivia came out. And Bobo.”