Epilogue
I woke to the now familiar sights, sounds and smells of a hospital. I recognized my favorite nurse and turned to greet her, but got instantly dizzy. I tried again, much slower and saw many of my friends in the room, just waiting for me to regain coherency.
They would probably have to wait years for that, but at least I could communicate. “What’s going on?” I slurred.
Several people started to talk at once. I could make out Lieutenant Howard, Jocko, Mother Teresa, Gloria, Roy and Pastor James.
They deferred to the Lieutenant, always a wise choice.
The Lieutenant spoke for all, “After, you were shot by Ms. Jeffries, you were hit just above your right ear, luckily where the bone is thick. You suffered abrasions and a concussion, but the bullet did not penetrate. You’ll be OK.”
I felt my head; it was wrapped in a bandage, but didn’t really hurt. I looked at everyone and smiled then asked, “Joe?”
The Lieutenant smiled at that and said, “Joe was trying to find you all day, he knew Harold and his men were planning to ambush you. Apparently you were always one step ahead of him. He’s a good man, After. He got me into ‘The Green Frog’ just as the shooting started. I was almost too late, but once you got the situation under control, I just stood by the door and listened to what amounted to a confession.”
“What happened to Felicity?” I asked.
The Lieutenant paused, then said, “I shot her as she shot you.
She got that gun out so fast, all I could do was go for a chest shot.
I’m afraid she didn’t make it.”
There was nothing to say to that. I would always wonder if she could have been something different and done better for herself had circumstances allowed. That was for later reflection though. As drugged up as I was, I was only capable of assimilating minor information at the time. I did feel a pang of regret, but it was far overshadowed by relief at being able to continue with my lifelong affinity for breathing.
Gloria came up and gave me a kiss and said she’d brought a book of French poetry to read to me. I guess I liked the idea, but we’d have to see. At least she’d be near me. Roy then raised his hand as if he were in school and said, “You’ve got a ton of messages on your answering machine, so I guess you’ll be busy when you’re released.”
That was good news, and I looked at my nurse questioningly.
She said, “I think you’ll be released tomorrow.”
More good news. I was wondering how the Lieutenant knew to come looking for me. I asked him, “Did Joe call you or something? How did you know to look for me?” The Lieutenant chuckled and said, “I’d like to say it was top flight police work, but Mother Teresa said your cat told her you were in trouble.”
“Soot?” I asked.
Mother nodded and said that Soot had gone ahead and trashed my room again, but had come downstairs with my envelope to the Lieutenant in his mouth. It had been torn open and the letter was halfway out. She went ahead and read enough to realize the situation and had called him up right away.
Lieutenant Howard said, “I realized I couldn’t enter ‘The Green Frog’ without a warrant, so I was trying to get one when Joe raced into the parking lot and told me what was happening. He let me in, and you know the rest.
I did, indeed, know the rest. I also knew that I needed some quiet, as my head was playing funny tricks on me. People came into and out of focus. They could see I was having trouble, so one by one, everyone left the room, until only the nurse, Gloria and Pastor James were left. Gloria made it quite clear that she was not leaving, as she sat in the chair next to my bed and opened her book of poetry.
Pastor James smiled and said he only needed a minute. He told me that Felicity would be buried next to her mother on Tuesday, and wanted to know if I would be present. I shook my head no. He then asked if I might desire to send flowers or anything? I thought about it and then said, “Go ahead and order some from the supermarket. Jocko can get them for you. I’ll take care of the bill later.” After all, I now had what remained of the thousand dollars that I didn’t need to pay back to Harold Gibbons, and I considered it money well earned. I also knew that there was two million dollars out there somewhere with no one’s name on it.
The Pastor smiled and started to leave. I had a quick thought and called him back. “Just don’t send petunias, they’re allergic to them.”