by Alan Cook
Chapter 14
I was wakened by a siren. I opened one eye and tried
to focus on my bedside clock. Rays of sunlight were
seeping in through the drapes. Six-fifteen a.m., Sunday
morning. Give me a break. I had only been in bed a few
hours.
The scream of the siren had stopped. I rolled over,
determined to return to my interrupted dream. It must
have been erotic, judging by my current state of arousal.
I think Esther and Arrow were both in it. Before I could get
settled I heard the unmistakable sound of a voice coming
over a radio. Like a police radio. Coming from the street in
front of the castle.
I was out of bed in a flash. I pulled on a pair of jeans; I slept
in a T-shirt. Not bothering with shoes, I opened the door,
ran around the pool and then down the side of the house.
Before I reached the front yard I saw the red flashes
reflecting off the neighbor's house beside me. As I went
around the front corner of the castle I saw the red emergency
vehicle whose light was flashing, parked on the street.
Our front gate was open and so was the front door of the
castle. Without stopping I ran through the front door. I paused
long enough to hear the sounds of voices coming from upstairs.
I took the stairs two at a time and only slowed down as I
approached the doorway to the master bedroom.
When I entered the room my view of the king-size bed
was partially blocked by a paramedic kneeling beside
it, but I could see the head of my father. He was lying
on his back, his face was white, his eyes were open
and he appeared to be staring at the ceiling.
The other paramedic was calling for an ambulance on
his cell phone. Jacie stood at the foot of the bed in her
yellow bathrobe, her hands clasped tightly together. Her
blond hair was in the disarray of recent sleep. Luz was
standing beside her with her arm around Jacie. Luz also
wore a bathrobe and her hair was covered by a towel.
Tears were running down her cheeks.
I walked toward them. Jacie looked at me with frightened
eyes and said, "They think he's had a stroke."
I turned toward my father, the man who was always so in
control of the situation. He looked helpless. I couldn't
face it and I turned away. I put my arms around both
Jacie and Luz. In the case of Jacie this was something
I hadn't done since she married my father.
# # # #
"How could he have a stroke?" I asked the heart specialist
who had examined my father in the Intensive Care Unit.
"He's not overweight, he doesn't smoke, he gets regular
exercise..."
"His blood pressure was very high," Dr. Shapero said,
consulting his clipboard. "And he needs to reduce his
cholesterol."
He was short, balding and definitely overweight. Didn't
doctors follow their own advice?
"He doesn't have high blood pressure," Jacie said. She had
put on jeans and a pink sweater and brushed her hair for
the ride to the hospital. Tan and athletic, she looked like
the professional tennis player she had been.
She was sitting beside me in the small waiting room. She
and I had followed the ambulance to Torrance Memorial
Hospital. Now, several hours later, my father was hooked
to a heart monitor and being fed oxygen.
"It could be a temporary condition caused by stress, for
example," Dr. Shapero said. "Has he been under a lot of
pressure lately?"
Jacie and I looked at each other. We both nodded.
Ned's death, James Buchanan's attempt to take over
Dionysus. I had always thought my father was
immune to stress. This was a shock. It gave me a
glimpse of my own mortality.
"Will he...be all right?" Jacie asked.
"It's too soon to tell," Dr. Shapero said, speaking
pedantically but with compassion. "There appears to
be some paralysis on his right side, but that may to be
a temporary condition. Mrs. Patterson, your quick call
to 911 definitely reduced the complications. I think we
stopped the brain damage before it was wide-spread."
My worry level went down a notch.
When Dr. Shapero left I asked Jacie what she wanted
to do.
"Stay here with Richard," she said.
"All day?"
"Probably. I think having me here will help him."
That was true, at least when he wasn't sleeping.
Maybe she did love him. "I'll notify people. Who
should I call for Dionysus?" It being Sunday, I would
have to call somebody at home.
"A week ago I would have said Ned. Now...I don't know."
"Do you know the home number of John, his administrative
assistant?"
"No. But it must be in his organizer. That should be in his
attaché case. But you don't know how to work that,
do you?"
My father had a small electronic organizer that he
carried with him. Actually, I did know how to use it,
but this wasn't the time to tout my skills. I had Arrow's
home number written down. I didn't mention Arrow to
Jacie. I said, "I'll take care of it. I'll leave you the car
and run back. It's only a few miles."
"Okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be all right." Jacie even
smiled. She was rising to the occasion. This time she
hugged me.
# # # #
I badly needed the run. My brain was a whirling mass
of confusion. I headed west on Torrance Boulevard at
an easy trot and felt better already, just getting out
of the hospital and into the fresh air. My father would
be all right; he had to be all right. No other option was
in my plans.
At Hawthorne Boulevard I planned to turn left toward
Palos Verdes. As I approached, the walk-light came on
for crossing Hawthorne. It was a wide street and I had
to cross it sooner or later so I entered the crosswalk.
On the other side, without thinking about it I continued
west instead of turning onto Hawthorne.
Arrow's condominium was in this direction. It was
closer than my father's castle. A phone call to Arrow
wouldn't be enough. I had to get involved with
Dionysus. Not to replace my father-there was a chain
of command set up for that-but to deal with the issues
I knew about, namely, Ned's death and whatever James
Buchanan was trying to do.
As I entered Redondo Beach and approached Arrow's
place I began to have second thoughts. Would this
endanger my relationship with Esther? Not if I was
careful. However, it was Sunday. Arrow might be
sleeping in. I glanced at my watch. It was almost 10
o'clock. She should be up by now. Well, she might have
a boyfriend with her. She had not discussed her
romantic status with me.
I could call her from a phone booth to see if she
was present and alone. Except that I didn't have
her phone number with me and I was sure it was
unlisted. Most of the single women in LA had
unlisted numbers.
I turned onto her street. In a few minutes I arrived
at her complex. I hesitated before walking into the
complex, trying to remember which unit she lived in.
I thought it was the third one in. If not, it was the
next one after that.
This wasn't an excuse not to see her. I found what I
thought was Arrow's unit and rang the bell. I stood in
front of the peephole in the door so she would be
able to see me.
"Who is it?"
Arrow's voice came from a distance and sounded harried.
"Karl."
"Just a minute."
I had come at a bad time. Maybe I should leave. No,
I couldn't do that. Arrow knew I was here.
The seconds ticked by. Was she hiding her boyfriend
in the closet? Getting dressed? I heard several clicks
and the door opened. Arrow stood there, tying a dark
blue bathrobe, much shorter than Jacie's.
She smiled but it looked forced. "You're just in time
for breakfast. And to find out what a perfect
homemaker I am."
I still felt as if I was intruding, but Arrow held the door
open so I said hello and walked in. She closed it behind
me and before I could say any more she said, "Follow
me."
She led me barefoot through a small living room,
containing a couch and not much more, into a room
that must serve as a combination family room and
dining room, with a table at the far end. Adjacent to
this was the kitchen.
She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, held
out her hand, palm up, and said, ironically, "Here's
breakfast."
Breakfast was all over the kitchen floor and the
cupboards under the microwave. I had never seen
such a mess. The door to the microwave stood open
and the dish that had originally contained breakfast
was upside down on the floor.
I must be the cause of this. "Did I scare you?"
I asked.
Arrow laughed. "No, I did this just before you rang.
I had dinner at my parents' house last night and my
mom gave me some leftover stew. I thought it would
be good for breakfast so I heated it up. When I started
to take it out of the microwave my grip on the dish
slipped. I was afraid it would spill and scald me so I
stepped back. This caused it to tip even more.
Meanwhile, I lost my balance. I managed to direct most
of the contents away from me before I sat down, but
I still got stew all over me, which is why I couldn't
answer the door right away."
"Did you get burned?"
"Fortunately, no. The bulk of the hot sauce went
on the floor."
"I'm sorry. I'll help you clean up," I said, awkwardly.
Arrow laughed again, with a trace of bitterness.
"Believe it or not, I was pretty self-sufficient
before you came along. I didn't get drunk and I didn't
make messes all over my kitchen. I'll tell you what.
I'll do the actual cleaning if you will feed me wet
towels."
She got down on her hands and knees and started
wiping up the conglomeration of beef cubes, carrots,
onion and meat sauce. The aroma that reached my
nostrils suggested that it would have been delicious.
I rinsed the towels she dirtied, under the tap, and
handed them back them to her.
The only problem with this arrangement was that her
bathrobe didn't completely cover her bare butt, but
she was so engrossed in the cleanup that she didn't
notice. I tried not to look. A young, heterosexual
male shouldn't be put through trials like this.
Arrow eventually cleaned everything up to her
satisfaction. She stood up and said, "Now I'll make
you a real breakfast. It's the least I can do after all
the crap I've put you through. But first I need a
shower. Would you like to come upstairs and talk to
me while I shower?"
"No!" I said, too quickly and too loudly. It sounded so
incongruous that I laughed along with Arrow. "I'll...wait
here."
"Of course I meant through the bathroom door, but suit
yourself. While you're waiting you can drink some
orange juice. You put me on to drinking orange juice,
you know." She got a pitcher out of the refrigerator
and poured me a large glass. Then she disappeared in
the direction of the stairs.
# # # #
While Arrow was taking her shower I remembered why
I was there. I found a pencil and paper, sat at her
table and made notes. By the time she returned,
wearing white shorts and a blue T-shirt, but still
barefoot, I had created a to-do list for myself.
"I haven't told you why I came," I said, gingerly. I
don't like to deliver bad news.
"You came to help me clean up my mess," Arrow
said, gaily, bustling around in the kitchen.
"No. It's about my father--Richard. He's had a stroke."
Arrow reacted as if she's been shot. She gasped,
put her hand to her mouth and couldn't speak for a
few seconds. Then she said, "How bad...how is he?"
"He should be okay. He's in the hospital."
She sat down with a thud on one of the wooden
chairs at the table. "But he's so...healthy."
I filled her in on the details, trying to place a
positive spin on them. I hadn't known she would
take it so hard. After a few minutes she had
somewhat recovered; I told her I would help her
make breakfast.
While I sliced ham for an omelet, I asked Arrow who
should be notified at Dionysus. She started making
her own list.
Over breakfast, I said, "I think we need to do
something about Buchanan and his alleged takeover
attempt of Dionysus while Richard's sick." Calling my
father Richard kept his illness from being too personal.
"I suspect that Buchanan was a contributing factor to
his stroke."
"What can we do?" Arrow asked, through a mouthful
of toast with strawberry jam on it.
"Buchanan can't gain absolute control of Dionysus
without either the stock owned by Richard or Elma.
Richard's stock is safe, of course. But what about
Elma? In a proxy battle, would she vote her shares
for Richard or Buchanan?"
"Richard, I assume. Why wouldn't she?"
"I don't know. That's why I want to talk to her."
"When?"
"Why not today?"
"Today?"
Arrow was still in a state of shock. I wanted to snap
her out of it and get moving. She finished her
breakfast, took a sip of coffee and said, "Let me
make some phone calls--to John, Richard's admin and
some others. Then we can see about Elma."
"I need to call some of Richard's relatives," I said. My
relatives, too.
"Use my cell phone. It gets charged to Dionysus."
While Arrow used her house phone I called my aunt
and my grandmother on the cell phone. Fortunately,
they were both down-to-earth people who had listed
phone numbers (I got the numbers from Information)
and who wouldn't start screaming hysterically. They
asked for information about the hospital so they could
send flowers and call Richard when he felt well enough
to talk.
When Arrow had finished her other calls she called Elma.
She told Elma about my father's stroke. They talked for
about five minutes. After she hung up she said, "Elma
wants to see us now."
Aces and Knaves copyright ©2002 Alan L. Cook
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