THIRTY-TWO

The longest night of my life lasts only a second if she’s on the other side.

Leelo

“You took long enough,” the man, leaning his back against the door says, right before he takes a step forward and the light from the small window catches him across the face.

“You’re the developer.”

I remember seeing that baby face before. Brian...something. Roar chased him off.

“You could call me that. My boss considers me the last line of attack. I’m only called in when all else seems to fail, as it has done in this case.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, what case?”

“It doesn’t usually come to this, I want you to know. Mostly some well-executed pressure is enough, often using local talent, and I’m able to procure my boss his next pet project. Unfortunately, our local associates here in Wawa have not fared so well. In fact, as you well know, Mr. Thompson is currently in jail awaiting trial, and our Mr. Kline here became too much of an albatross around our necks.” I watch as the young thug starts pacing from side to side, but the gun never wavers. “My boss is not a patient man, Ms. Talbot, and it is in my best interests to keep him happy. He’s had his eye on this property for as long as your dear uncle was in the nursing home. Mr. Kline assured him the beneficiary in his will—that would be you, Ms. Talbot—would be eager to unload it upon his death. I simply took it upon myself to help matters along.”

I can’t help my shocked gasp, when the reality of his words hits.

“You killed my uncle?” I watch in disbelief as he smiles and shakes his head at me dismissively.

“No need for drama, Ms. Talbot. I simply added a little extra to his medication to help him from his suffering.” He waves it off like it’s nothing, and that is almost more terrifying than sitting on a damp floor next to a corpse having a gun waved in your face. Brian...whatever, just keeps on talking. “It was fast and painless. But you, Ms. Talbot, have been an even bigger obstacle. I haven’t quite decided whether it is stupidity or sheer tenacity that keeps you coming back, but I’m afraid we’re done trying to coax you into making the right decision. I will make the decision for you. My boss will be extremely appreciative when the property unexpectedly comes available, due to a second unfortunate death in the family. I’m sure, under such horrendously sad circumstances, your darling children will be eager to grab the first decent offer they receive and readily leave the Whitefish Motel in their rearview mirror.” 

I’m listening to his words, almost frozen at the almost polite way he tells me he’s about to kill me, but I’m also counting his steps, trying to find his rhythm as he paces from side to side. If I get even the slightest opportunity to distract him enough and get that barrel out of my face, I’m gonna try for the door. He’s not letting me walk away, and I sure as hell am not going to make it easy on him.

Mere seconds later such an opportunity presents itself, but at an expense much greater than I would ever have been willing to pay.

Just as Brian...whatever his name is, moves away from the door, it slams open.

“Mom!” Matt cries out when he sees me on the floor.

“Watch out!” I try to warn him, launching myself at the man who now has the gun pointed at my son, but it’s already to late. I see the flash of the barrel an instant before I hear the bang, just as I slam into his body at full force.

I don’t know what drives me to continue fighting, using every fucking ounce of my overweight body to keep the much slighter man from turning the weapon on me. He’s strong, though, much stronger, with a similar desperation feeding him. I try to resist, but he manages to flip me on my back, straddles my chest, and pins my arms down with his knees. Then he sits up, and calmly aims the gun at my forehead.

Nothing left for me to do but close my eyes and be grateful my kids know I love them, Roar knows I love him, and my father waiting for me on the other side.

Roar

“Please try again,” I plead with Rick, who is in the ambulance with me en route to the small hospital in Wawa. Initially, there was talk of airlifting me to the larger facility in Sault Ste. Marie, to be on the safe side, but that was quickly nixed with Rick’s support, who is a licensed EMT himself. Smoke inhalation at this point is my biggest problem. My ribs might be bruised, but nothing has punctured my lungs, and thanks to landing in a gully of water, the burns I sustained to my chest and upper arms appeared to be mostly second grade. Stuff our local clinic can easily handle.

My main concern now is Leelo hearing through the grapevine that a local firefighter is down, and thinking the worst, instead of being calmly told that I’ll be fine in a couple of days at most.

“I’ve tried, man. I’m not getting through.”

“Call Bill. He can go by and tell her. Bring her to the hospital.”

I’m a little calmer when Rick hangs up and confirms Bill is already on his way.

The EMT riding in back with us covers my mouth with an oxygen mask and places an IV in my arm. Then he starts cutting away whatever is left of the shirt I was wearing, and I hiss when he pulls at a strip that seems to have fused with my skin.

“Not all second degree burns,” he says sternly, throwing Rick a scowl.

Rick, as expected, ignores him and waits until the guy’s attention is back on me before he throws me a wink.

The small hospital has only a handful of emergency beds, and apparently there’s only one other patient in there. It’s fairly quiet and I’ve got my eyes closed, enjoying the lack of noise and fresh air, despite the discomfort of being poked at.

Suddenly, I hear commotion outside in the hallway before the doors fly open and a gurney is wheeled in. I don’t see much more than that, because one of the nurses working on me quickly draws the curtain around my bed. But then I hear a woman’s voice yelling and every hair still on my body stands on end.

“Leelo?” I call out, ignoring the hands that are trying to hold me down in my bed.

“Roar?”

Leelo

I can’t breathe.

A heavy weight is covering me and I can’t get any air.

“Stop yelling at me and help me roll him off her. She’s gasping!”

Charlotte.

My five foot nothing saviour.

I thought the next thing I would hear was another gunshot, but instead it was Charlotte’s voice, yelling at the gun-toting maniac to “Leave my girl alone!” before swinging a long piece of wood at his head. Knocked him right out, she did. Right on top of me, and now I can’t fucking breathe.

I don’t know how she got here, but I was so happy to hear her voice.

In the next moment, my chest is free and I take in big gulps of air.

“Are you okay, honey?” Charlotte asks, hovering over me as I try to catch my breath.

“Leelo?” Bill’s voice sounds from behind her as his face comes into view. “You good?” I barely have a chance to nod before he turns on Charlotte. “Next time I tell you to wait in Matt’s truck, you wait. You hear me? Racing in here, brandishing nothing but a two by four. Did you not hear the shot?”

“Mattie,” I manage, struggling to get up.

“Lucky kid,” Bill says, stepping aside so I can see my son carefully lifting his head, blood streaming down one side. “Bullet just grazed his scalp. Can knock you out and bleeds like a stuck pig, but he’ll be fine. Just a cool scar to show off to the girls.”

“You okay, Mattie?” I ask, sitting up, holding my side where I hit the ground when I tackled the guy who is beside me, out cold. Matt just nods, holding his head in his hands.

Jesus.

“Drove up right behind them,” Bill explains, as he puts handcuffs on the unconscious man beside me, before moving over to Henry to check his pulse, shaking his head when he finds none. “Charlotte was sitting in the cab with the window down, waving in the direction of the shed. Told that woman to stay put while I checked it out, but when that shot sounded, she came running past me like a mad woman. She picked up that length of wood and disappeared through that door before I had a chance to pull my sidearm.”

“You’re just getting slow, Billy Prescott,” Charlotte taunts him, sitting with her back against the wall in her summer dress and pearls. She talks a good game but I see the shock in her eyes as she takes in the scene. “Best get into shape before your wife finds out an old biddy like me ran circles around you. She’d have you on a diet so fast, your head would spin.”

In the end, Matt and I are loaded in an ambulance Bill must’ve called. Brian Dinker—Matt remembered his name—was checked out by the EMTs and was sent off in one of the OPP cruisers that had been arriving, and would be closely monitored for a concussion at the OPP detachment.

Bill promised to follow us to the hospital with Charlotte, undoubtedly bickering with her all the way there.

“You okay, Bud?” I ask Matt, who is lying on the gurney. I’m strapped into a chair next to him. I insisted.

“Yeah. My head hurts though,” he says, wincing before throwing me a sheepish grin. “Some kind of hero, right?”

“Don’t joke, Mattie. He’d already killed someone. Had you not stopped to check on me, I would be on the floor of that laundry room, lying beside Henry Kline: just as dead. Don’t you tell me you’re not a hero.” I wipe angrily at the tears suddenly streaming down my face. “Stupid? Absolutely, and as soon as your head is better I’ll cuff your ear for taking a risk like that.” I pinch my thumb and forefinger together and stick them in his face. “This close. This close you were to losing your life. Let me tell you, losing you would be a worse fate than death, my boy. Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Ma’am, please stay calm or I’ll have to sedate you.”

“Don’t you dare,” I hiss in the young EMT’s face.

The only thing that calms me is the big hand that wraps around mine, holding on tight all the way to the hospital.

-

“Please, ma’am, sit down in the wheelchair.”

The same EMT is trying to get me to sit down, but I want to follow Matt’s stretcher that’s already heading through the doors.

“So help me, if you take me anywhere else than where my boy is going, I will castrate you with my bare hands.”

“Ma’am, please stay calm or I’ll have to restrain you.”

“I will. I’ll behave. Please, just take me to my son,” I plead, folding my hands in front of me as I watch the stretcher disappear down a hallway. This damn wheelchair can’t move fast enough.

I stay calm too, just like I promised, right until I’m wheeled into the emergency room and the EMT hands me over to a nurse.

“Patient is emotional and combative,” I hear him say and it’s like a red flag.

“I will have you know I was just held at gunpoint, and my son was shot. Am I allowed to get a little emotional?”

“Leelo?” I hear a familiar voice from behind one of the curtains.

“Roar?” I call out, already getting up out of the chair.

“She’s just menopausal,” I hear my son call out, and I make a note to murder him in his sleep.

Roar

“You know what they say about relationships forged under extreme circumstances. Do you think that applies to us?”

I turn my head on the pillow to where Leelo is lying in the bed beside me.

She’s been checked out. Thoroughly—I made sure—and aside from a few bruised ribs, bumps, and scrapes, she should be fine, although perhaps a little sore for the next few days.

Matt’s been stitched up and will be kept overnight for observation, because he’d lost consciousness.

As for me, I was very lucky. I’m being kept overnight as well for smoke inhalation, my burns will heal and the two cracked ribs will as well.

But I’m done firefighting. The fear on Leelo’s face when she ripped aside that curtain earlier: if I hadn’t already made the decision to stop, I would’ve done it in that moment. Seeing me lying in that bed, after all she’d apparently already been through, it was no wonder her knees buckled under the weight.

Personally, I was glad I was lying down when Bill walked in with Charlie and recounted all that I’d missed.

I just looked at my mother and shook my head.

“I have a feeling life with you will always mean living on the edge, Sunshine,” I tease Leelo. “You guys throw quite the birthday party.”

“Oh shit!” she shoots upright in her bed, wincing as she grabs for her ribs. “I need a phone. Gwenny.”

“Use mine.” Rick, who’s been here the whole time, hands his phone to Leelo.

“Hey, Sweetie,” she coos in the phone, looking pained as she listens to what I’m sure is a very upset and confused Gwen on the other end. “Yeah, I’m sorry, there was a little incident.”

Rick chuckles along with me as I listen to Leelo trying to downplay events to keep her daughter calm.

“Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?—Okay, Gwenny. See you soon.”

“She okay?” I ask, reaching for her hand.

“She says she is. She says she’s already fed Ace, is going to lock up and head over.”

“All right, if you don’t mind,” Rick says, running a hand down his face. “I’m heading home. I haven’t seen my family in over a week and I’m bushed.”

“Of course.” I grab his offered hand, giving it a solid squeeze.

“I’ll check in with you tomorrow, Doyle. Nice to meet you guys. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.” He lifts a hand in Leelo’s direction before disappearing down the hall.

He’s barely left and Bill walks in. He left earlier to take Charlotte home, once we knew we’d all be here overnight, and would check in with his crime scene boys at the motel.

Before Bill has a chance to say anything, Leelo pipes up in the bed beside me.

“You realize, as soon as you’re done with the laundry shed, I’m tearing that damn thing down, right? With my bare hands if I have to.”