Chapter 5
Woke up back in bed in the same room only now, there were balloons, cards, flowers and candy piled everywhere. Dad was watching to see if I was awake and Felice was there looking worried.
“Hey,” I mumbled.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dad smiled, his eyes lighting up.
Felice looked like she was crying, “hey, Downtown. Wuzup?”
“You tell me.”
“What was with the Great Escape?” She queried. “You breaking out of here?”
“Dad?”
“The cat’s name is Harry Turtledove,” he said and I understood what he didn’t say. He didn’t want to alarm Felice. “Danny, why did you bolt?”
“I dunno. Scared.”
“Of the tube?”
“Naw. I’m hungry.”
“You missed lunch, dinner and breakfast,” he told me. “You slept nearly 16 hours. It’s Tuesday afternoon.”
“Yikes. Can I go home now?”
“After the Doctors check out your scans,” he said carefully.
“What did they find?”
“We’ll talk to the Doctors together.”
My stomach lurched and it wasn’t because I was hungry. I threw the covers back, sat up and froze as I realized I was nearly naked in front of Felice, so I pulled the sheets back up to my chin. She grinned.
“I’ve seen you naked before in second grade, Downtown, there’s got to be some improvements.”
I blushed. Mumbled as Dad laughed. “Lisi, you are a bad influence on me. Shall I leave you two alone?”
“He’s perfectly safe with me, Mister D,” she grinned. “I promise not to look under his skirts.”
I turned beet red. Was saved when the doc came in looking all serious and Felice took that cue to exit gracefully. He cleared his throat and looked at Dad.
“Dantan’s CAT scan showed a lesion in the area of the brain called the limbic region, deep inside.”
Dad said, “A lesion? A tumor?”
“Not a tumor, an area about the size of a lemon that is thickened like a bruise. It can affect memory, balance and speech. Part of it extends to the optic nerves and there is pressure on those nerves, which will cause vision degeneration.”
“You mean I might go blind?” I burst out.
“I mean, Dantan, you might die,” Kujowski said bluntly.
“Do we need to bring a Neurosurgeon?” Dad asked, his hands gripping the arm rests until his knuckles turn white.
“I consulted with Doctor Anton Soong, he is the top Neurosurgeon on the Eastern seaboard, but you’re welcome to speak to any others. He’s agreed to see Dantan tomorrow on my recommendation, which is a tremendous favor, Senator. Most neurosurgeons are booked 6 to 8 months in advance.”
“And according to your findings, Danny needs to be seen that quickly?” Dad seemed to have trouble speaking, he swallowed often as if he had a dry mouth.
“In my opinion, yes,” Kujowski said. “There’s definitely something neurological in there that shouldn’t be. I’d like to arrange a biopsy, but that runs a significant risk in itself, although it would definitely determine what we are dealing with.”
“Go ahead,” Dad decided. “Make the appointment.”
“I’d like to keep, Danny, is it? Here for another few days, he’s had a few episodes of fading in and out he isn’t even aware of. We’ll hook him up to some EEG leads, so we can monitor his brain waves while he’s awake and asleep.
“I’ve put him on anti-anxiety meds and a mild tranquilizer to prevent a re-recurrence of Monday’s unfortunate mishap.”
Dad gave me one of those looks. “I thought I told you to behave, Dantan?”
“What did I do?” I spread my hands in dumb innocence, which usually worked to get me out of trouble. Trouble was, I really didn’t remember doing anything bad. “Lunch?” I asked, looking hopeful.
“I can order that. Any restrictions, Doctor?”
“As long as you don’t feel nauseous.”
“I’m starving. Can I have a meatball sub with mozzarella and Parmesan? Garlic bread and a salad? Oh, and honey barbecue wings. With ranch dressing. On the side. Pepsi.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Dad told me. He looked at me sternly. “Don’t move out of this bed.”
“What if I have to pee?”
“Wait.”
“Dad!”
“You heard me.”
“Yes, sir.” He got up and left the room with the Doctor. I looked around, snagged a basket of Ghirardelli chocolates and ate two bars, dark chocolate with almonds and sea salt. My favorite. The card was from Ms. Penny and read ‘Get Well Soon.’
The big basket of fruit was from Dad’s peers at the Senate. The Secret Service dudes had sent me a horde of Dove bars, word search, crossword and Sudoku books along with chewing gum and beef jerky. Felice had left me a bag of rice crispy treats and chocolate chip macadamia cookies which she’d baked herself, just the way I liked them – soft and gooey.
I put two of them in my mouth and savored the deliciousness of white chocolate, macadamia nuts, and cookie dough. Took another bite out of the third one, and felt the twinges of the headache coming on…
*****
Harry Turtledove was winding his body around the legs of men dressed in crime scene jumpsuits with blue windbreakers labeled FBI, HS and US marshals. It was a cluster fuck inside the house and the cat decided to leap onto the table where it was safe. He sat, watching as the agents bagged and searched. The noise they made was negligible, the cat and I heard every word, but it was me that translated.
They had apprehended the owner of the house, four blocks from the museum, with Presidential passes that allowed him inside the building, found the armor-lite sniper rifle in pieces with a full clip of armor piercing bullets. He was driving a gray vehicle with the stated MD plates and how the hell did the Senator come by such exact information when even the Secret Service hadn’t a clue. He had even given the State Cops the perp’s home address and warned them not to hurt the cat.
“Speaking of which,” the Director of HS top agent said. “We’re supposed to bring the cat to the Senator.”
“Not animal control?”
“No. Senator De Rosier was explicit. The cat goes to him.”
“You hear his son’s in the hospital? Some kind of brain tumor. Poor kid. He’s just fourteen. This will kill Mike, after losing Evangeline in that drunk driving accident.”
“You saying the kid might die?”
It’s weird to hear people talking about your death when they don’t know you’re listening. I knew that agent, his name was Mark Andrews and sometimes he was on Felice’s detail.
“Does Canary-bird know?” The other HS dude asked, referring to Felice by her Secret Service nickname.
“She’s been to the hospital, but I doubt they’ve told her. How long till the Grand Opening?”
“Twenty minutes. I wanted it canceled, but both the President and Senator said no. Said he owed it to Downtown.”
“Danny, his Dad calls him Danny. Maybe, the cat’s for him.”
Harry Turtledove was scooped up in Mark’s arms, and he called out, “anyone see a cat carry case in here?”
Shoved inside, my/our vision was limited as seen through the bars. Harry meowed plaintively, both of us hated the confines of the crate. Being dangled from the handle and bumped against his legs on the way out to his SUV made both of us sick. The HS dude followed him out. “You hear about the stock brouhaha? The SEC is all over that broker on insider trading. Seems the Senator made a killing on a minor thousand dollar trade.”
“Illegal?”
“Can’t prove it. Besides, he’s already rich, and his reputation is one of the most stable on the Hill. Hell, he doesn’t even get parking tickets.
“You know, that’s the third weird coincidence surrounding the Senator,” Andrews mused.
I could see the other dude’s face, especially after Mark shoved the crate in the backseat of his Denali and belted it in. He slammed the door. I did hear the other dude make weird noises and then what sounded like–‘interesting’. We were left alone in the parked vehicle. He did leave the window open and it was cool enough out that the cat wouldn’t overheat. He meowed, curled up and went to sleep. Me too.