Dark Beach (19 page)

“I had to amputate his hind leg; he had a systemic infection.”

Jenny winced as another woman, her hands full with a fuzzy orange cat, entered the surgery.

“Come out back with me,” said the vet.

Nodding, she followed.

Charlie lay on a pet bed with a green blanket over him and a warming lamp above. “Oh!” Jenny and Kip ran over. “You poor thing. Poor Charlie.”

The sleepy little dog wagged his tail half-heartedly.

“I’m going to take you home with me. Don’t worry.”

He whimpered.

“Now, he is on pain medication and antibiotics, which you will have to cut in with his meals, and he may not have a very good appetite for the first few days, so you’ll need to make his food look irresistible.”

“I can do that.” Jenny kissed
the dog’s wet snout.

“And he’ll have to wear this sling, but not at bedtime. It’ll take him a while to adjust to having only three paws. The muscles have to develop, and some dogs adapt to it quicker than others. Could be a week, could be a month, but you’ll need to help him about in the first few days.”

“Can I look?”

“Yeah, go ahead. You can take him with you today.”

She lifted the blanket. White bandages covered Charlie’s fresh stump. All she could do was close her eyes and sigh.

“Here’s a neck cone, in case he starts biting at his wound; so far he hasn’t, which is unusual.”

“He’s a good dog.”

“I’m sure he is, but the wound may get itchy as it heals. Just play it by ear. We’ll give you a discharge pack with all the instructions and all the medications you’ll need. Give him antibiotics twice a day and painkillers every six hours. Do you have any questions?”

Even knowing whether she had any was beyond her at that point; they would probably creep up later. “No.”

“Okay, you can check-out up front. I’ll help you out to your car. Do you have a bed for him?”

“Yes.”

“You may want to contain him in one room for a few days. Keep him quiet.”

Shaking her head at all the information, Jenny signed the papers at the front desk. “Five thousand dollars!”

“If you could sign there, please; you have a co-pay of twenty percent.” Jean put the form on the counter, along with a horrible pen made to resemble a flower.

“We take all major credit cards. No checks. Cash is okay.”

“Oh boy.” Jenny fumbled around in her worn purse, looking for her card. “Where is it? I know it’s here … there, got it. Here you go.”

Jean finally smiled.

Jenny turned her back to her and leaned against the counter. “It’s okay.”

Kip took her hand.

“Excuse me?” Jean said.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Sign here and date by the X.”

* * *

“I can’t believe that just happened.” Ron had changed into his back-up clothes: jeans, a white shirt, and a heavy black coat.

“We missed it,” said Carl.

“We all did. And I know the electric guys checked all the systems, too. Nothing we can figure out unless that sub leaves and the water is drained.” Ron put on his hard hat.

“The new divers are here and suiting up.” Carl pointed in their direction.

“Let’s try this one more time.”

The divers took their spots and jumped in without hesitation; Ron felt ill, the image of them going into the water mimicking the entry of the earlier divers—but minus the spark. “Thank God.”

The divers descended into the deep and removed the cut pins with an underwater blowtorch before returning to the surface, all in
just twenty minutes. The crane swung over and two lines were dropped, clamping onto both 80-ton doors of hollow concrete covered in black resin. The signal was given: lift.

The doors were hoisted up as if they weighed nothing. Swinging them over, the crane driver placed them very steadily and carefully on a standby barge. Everyone went quiet
; all mechanical sounds ceased, and the cries of gulls reigned. The boats then cleared a path. The black USS
Mac Roy
sailed off into the bay and sounded its harbor horn.

All the men cheered. It was as if the pressure had suddenly been relieved, although they did not know the sub’s destination or its future purpose, only that whatever it was, was dire.

“Where do you think she’s headed?” asked Carl.

“We’ll never know,” Ron said, staring after them.

* * *

The fleshy
snap
replayed in her mind as Jenny sat waiting outside Gerry’s room. She shook her head, trying to forget the sound, only to see sharp teeth come forward through the beige wall. She shut her eyes.

“Nurse!” she called to a passing woman who wore the same printed scrubs she had seen at the ER. Was it déjà vu or was that print popular? “I need some water.”

“Down the end there.” The nurse half pointed, too busy for courtesies.

“This place,” Jenny mumbled.

The water fountain smelled of copper, and there was a disgusting glob of something to the side. The sight of it made her slightly queasy.
I can’t drink this.

She went back and sat down.

“So horrible. So, so horrible. Don’t ever stick me in a place like this, Kip. Please don’t do that to me. Just leave me be at home. I’d rather just rot away there.”

Kip was too preoccupied with her new pink doll to pay attention to Jenny’s anxious words.

Deep breath in.

The same nurse passed, having finished her pill delivery.

“Excuse me.” Jenny called. “Do you know what’s taking so long? I’ve been here almost fifteen minutes now.”

“I can go in and check for you quickly,” she replied, sounding uptight.

A foul stench of human excrement wafted out as she opened the door.

“I can’t do this.” Jenny ran past the small, circular nurses’ station to the exit.

“Leaving so soon?” It was Marilynn, wearing a yellow dress this time.

“I have to go.”

“But you just got here.”

“I’ve been waiting too long.”

“How about some tea?”

“Tea?” It was the last thing Jenny had been expecting.

“Chamomile?”

“Eh ... sure. Sure. I’ll do that.”

“Go back and sit. I’ll bring it to you.”

The warm tea soothed her nerves a bit, and soon an elderly Hispanic nurse came out of the room. “She’s all cleaned up,” he said. “You may go in now.”

The odor was barely masked by a pungent floral spray, but it was better than nothing. Gerry lay flat on her back, her just-brushed white hair plastered to the pillow. The sound of an evening game show filled the room and the glare from the TV illuminated her face. She looked almost happy.

“Gerry, it’s me—Jenny. We met before?”

Gerry didn’t respond. She was mesmerized by the colors, the cheers, and the clapping. Kip clung to her mother’s side.

“It’s okay, honey. Go sit over there.”

Kip climbed onto the rickety chair in the corner and played with her doll.

Jenny approached the bedside. The rails were up. “What are you watching? I like game shows too.”

Gerry didn’t even blink.

How can you not blink?
Jenny walked about the room and picked up a silver-framed photograph on the side dresser. It was a picture of Gerry with her late husband—the jetty behind them.

“You miss the beach house?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gerry answered, suddenly aware. “I do.”

Shocked, Jenny
set the picture back down.

“I ... I meant to ask you,” Jenny said, sitting again. “Ron and I, we like the house too. We’re thinking of buying it off you. Do you know that? Did Rachael tell you?”

Gerry nodded.

“But I’m not sure,” Jenny continued. “I found these journals. They have all this crazy stuff. Something about an intruder, or a ghost maybe. I found them in the basement. There was a locked chest in there. I wondered...”

Gerry opened her mouth wide and lifted a shaking hand, pointing towards her dresser. “Kay.”

“Kay?” Jenny had no idea.

“Kay … Kay!”

The dresser had three small drawers along the top. Jenny opened each one, sifted through papers, hairbrushes, and crappy knick-knacks.

“Kay. Kay!” Gerry’s volume increased.

“It’s okay. Calm down. I’m looking.”

Jenny pulled the drawers out and dumped the contents on top of the dresser. A single key bounced off and hit the ground. Gerry pointed to it.

“Key! I get it,” said Jenny, picking it up and carrying it over to the bed.

“Yours.” Gerry smiled and pressed it into her hand, closing Jenny’s fingers around it.

“What is it for?”

“W-w-will,” the old lady stammered. “No Rachael.” She coughed up a glob of sputum and licked it off her lip.

Jenny winced. “Is it for the house?” she
asked, examining the key.

“Mmmm. Hex,” Gerry murmured, putting one hand up to shield her eyes from light streaming through the windows. “Will.”

Jenny moved to the window to pull shut the peach-colored printed curtains.

“No way. No way!” She gasped, quickly pulled the curtains shut, and put her hand to her forehead. After a deep breath, she cracked the curtain open again. It was hard to see; the sun was setting. Still, she was sure she could make out a tall figure wearing a long black trench coat and high-topped black boots. He was looking in her SUV window. His hood was up and his hands were barely touching the glass.

“Oh no, it’s him. Oh no.” Jenny started pacing.

Gerry’s eyes lost their spark again. She started squirming in the bed, yanking her arms against her restraints and moaning. The bed shook as she tried, harder and harder, to free her arms.

“Don’t you start now.”
What a nightmare. I’m stuck in a nightmare.
Jenny checked the window again. He was still standing there.

Gerry started up a distorted howling as the game show music intensified once again.

Kip stopped playing.

“Honey, turn the other ... don’t watch. Just turn. Nana is upset.”

“Mamma.” Kip curled into a ball.

“What is it, Gerry?” Jenny pulled up the old woman’s blankets.

The violent shaking continued, and Gerry pushed the blankets back down.

“What is it?”

Gerry looked right at her, her eyes wide, mouth open, wrinkled skin stretched to the maximum.

“Is it the TV? Do you not like this show anymore? Do you want me to change the channel?”

There was no remote that Jenny could see, so she stood on tiptoes to switch the channel to a quieter nature show—a lioness with her cubs. “Better?”

Gerry’s resistance slowed, but she kept up the God-awful sound.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. Calm down.” Jenny patted her greasy white hair. “There, there. You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

Gerry stopped, soothed, and went back to staring, this time at the wall.

“Dinner time.” The nurse opened the door and pulled Gerry’s rickety beside table over to her, setting the tray down on it. It was a colorful assortment of mush. “Would you like to feed her?” he asked turning his attention to the mess. “What’s going on here?”

“Um … she wanted something. I don’t think I understand her very well.”

“It’s fine. That’s the usual, okay. Do you want to feed her?”

“Ah, no thanks.” Jenny shook her head.

“You sure?” he asked again, as if he already expected her answer.

“No. No, I think I’ll step out for a bit while you do that.”

“You can certainly stay.” He smiled.

“Yeah … uh. I’ll be back. I have something I need to do anyway, just a minute.” She slipped the key into her coat pocket.

It was more than a minute. Jenny watched from behind the waiting room blinds as the man leaned up against her car and attempted to light a cigarette.

“Oh, come on. What are you doing?” She focused on the boots.
I know it’s him.
What do I do? I’m stuck here.

She opened her purse, reassured by the gleam of Kurt’s revolver and suddenly very glad she’d taken it. She ran her fingers over it. It was cold, smooth; she didn’t have the slightest clue how to fire it. Lifting it out, she carefully stroked the trigger.

“Mamma, what’s that?”

“Nothing.” Jenny slipped the gun back in her purse. “Just sit, okay. Here, here’s a magazine with pretty flowers inside. See the pretty flowers.”

“Pretty pink,” said Kip.

“Yeah, pretty.” Jenny tipped the blind again. The man was gone.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the waiting room.

Jenny lifted Kip off the peach chair and slunk down into a corner, covering her daughter’s mouth with one hand. The heavy steps stopped by the waiting room door. Then they continued on.