O'ahu Lonesome Tonight? (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series #5) (17 page)

BOOK: O'ahu Lonesome Tonight? (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series #5)
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Stu’s body had
bloated to the point that I couldn’t help but wonder how his skin was able to
stretch over it. All sorts of gory images danced through my mind but I pushed
them down, unwilling to give credence to the horror I was witnessing.

“We’ve got to
get Natalie to let them take his leg,” I whispered.

“Yeah,”
Moko
said.
“For sure.”

The machines
beeped and pinged but they were showing lower numbers now. His pulse had gone
up, but his blood pressure was lagging. The number that really got my attention
was his temperature. It showed one-oh-three.

“Look at his
temp,” I said. “It’s way up there.”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go see if
Natalie’s here,” I said. “I don’t want her seeing this and if we’re not out
there, she may try to come in.”

“Yeah.”

I had to pull
Moko
out of the room. His eyes looked watery and when he
pulled off his mask he used it to mop his face.

“I’ve never
seen anything like that,” he said. “Even when Dad was at the end, he didn’t
look
nuthin
’ like that.”

“Well, cancer’s
bad. But it’s a slow bad. This infection’s ripping through him really fast. I
think Natalie will have to agree to let them take the leg.”

We pushed our
used sterile gowns into the biohazard bin and walked past the nurses’ station.
The nurse sitting there dropped her eyes when she saw us coming. Maybe she
thought we were going to demand that she do something, or we were going to ask
a question she didn’t want to answer. Whatever the reason, she didn’t want to
acknowledge us and that was fine by me.

Natalie arrived
soon after we’d resumed sitting in the same chairs we’d occupied before going
into Stu’s room. She looked fresh and relaxed; as if she’d just showered and
donned a crisply-ironed sun dress. I felt envious, but then realized what was
happening inside the ICU affected her much more than it ever would me. I
wouldn’t trade places with her for anything.

Moko
gave Natalie a quick brotherly hug but didn’t say
anything. Once again, it looked like I’d be expected to do the heavy lifting.

“So, what’s
this about someone wanting to do drastic surgery on Stuart?” she said. “Why
won’t they let him be? Don’t you think he’s already been through enough?”

Moko
turned and caught my eye. I half-expected him to say
something like, ‘
Oh look at the time;
gotta
run

but he stayed put. But he didn’t say a word.

“Natalie, we
were just in Stu’s room,” I said. “And we both agree…” I looked at
Moko
to see if he was planning to chime in but all I got
back was a blank stare. “Anyhow, we both agree we should let the doctor do what
he thinks is best.”

“Well, I don’t
agree. That
doctor
doesn’t know Stuart. And
you
don’t know
Stuart. I’m the only person who really knows Stuart.” She paused. “And I can
tell you, without question, that Stuart does not want to spend the rest of his
life as a cripple.”

I was astounded
on so many levels I couldn’t even list them all. She was right about me not
knowing Stu; I’d only met him on Monday. But to say
Moko
didn’t know him was a slap in the face.
Moko
had
known Stu since he was born. He’d never known a day of his life when Stu wasn’t
in it. From what I’d gathered, she’d only known Stu for two or three years.
And, to call Stu a ‘cripple’ was beyond indefensible. First of all, since the
Middle East wars, prosthetics had become as much art as science. There were
vets out there with
two
artificial legs who surfed and hiked and raised
their children while working at high-paying jobs. The word ‘cripple’ in and of
itself was an insult to humanity.

As if he was
privy to my brain tantrum, the doctor showed up. He introduced himself to
Moko
and Natalie, and once he’d determined the pecking
order, he addressed himself solely to Natalie.

“Mrs.
Wilkerson,” he said. “I want you to know we’re giving your husband’s case the
highest priority. Already we’ve brought in specialists from neighbor islands to
make sure we leave no stone unturned.”

She narrowed
her eyes. “And all these so-called specialists still can’t come up with
something better than amputating my husband’s leg? What is this, Humpty-Dumpty
time?”

I was so
astounded I collapsed in the nearest chair.
Moko
remained standing. The look on his face turned dark.

The doctor
didn’t seem to take offense. “I understand how troubling this sounds. But I
assure you; this is our best course of action.”

“What if you
take no action? I mean, what if you allow Stuart to fight this infection on his
own, with the best medications and keeping him comfortable, of course.”

“Mrs.
Wilkerson, if that were a viable option, we would offer it. But, unfortunately,
it’s not.”

“Well, I’ll
have to think about this. I don’t want to be the one who scars Stuart forever
and then has to answer his hard questions about why I allowed you to do this.”

“Mrs.
Wilkerson, with all due respect, if you don’t allow us to do this—and soon—I’m
afraid there may not be anyone to answer to. Do you understand what I’m
saying?”

“I’m pregnant,
doctor, but I’m not stupid. I may be having a harder time than normal keeping
my meals down but my brain is working just fine. I need some time to consider
what you’re asking me to do.” She looped the shoulder strap of her purse over
her shoulder and turned and headed down the hall.

The three of us
looked at each another as if checking to see if anyone had any idea of what had
just happened. Seemed no one did.

Moko
apologized to the doctor and offered the explanation
that Natalie was pregnant and hadn’t been herself lately. The doctor once again
warned us that if he didn’t take the leg within the next few hours, Stu’s
chances would ‘deteriorate,’ whatever that meant. It looked to me like Stu was
in full-blown deterioration mode already.

I waited for a
few minutes, hoping Natalie would come to her senses and reappear, but she
didn’t. I was exhausted and told
Moko
I needed some
time away from the hospital. He offered to drive me back to Waikiki but I
declined.

“Thanks, but
I’ll take the bus. Seeing normal people having a normal day will do me good,” I
said.

I got back to the
penthouse and flopped down on the bed. I’m not the praying type, but I prayed
that Natalie would come to her senses before it was too late.

***

My cell phone
went off; vibrating next to me on the bed. It wasn’t that noisy, but it was
enough to wake me up. I sat up and looked at the clock on the bedside table:
three o’clock. Since it was sunny outside I quickly deduced it wasn’t 3 a.m.,
but what was I doing asleep in the middle of the afternoon?

I clicked over
to the call. It was
Moko
. “She finally said ‘yes’,”
he said.

“Thank God.”

“Yeah.
They’re taking him in right now to do it.”

“I’ll come
down.”

“No, you stay
there. You get some rest and come relieve me in a few hours. They said he’ll be
in surgery for at least four hours, maybe five.”

“Wow. It takes that
long to chop off a leg?” As soon as I said it I regretted it. But trying to
explain myself would just make it worse.

He chuckled. “
Ya
know, I thought the same thing. But I couldn’t say that
to the doctor. I was afraid he’d think I was a jerk.”

“I’ll be back
before seven,” I said. “Then you can go home and I’ll take the night shift.”


Mahalo
,
Pali
. I’m saying
prayers I haven’t said since high school. You believe in praying?”

“At this point,
I believe in everything.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“See you at
seven.”

“Love you,
Pali
,” he said.

I got a catch
in my throat and gargled, “Love you, too,
Moko
,”
before hanging up.

I picked up the
bedside clock and tried to figure out how to turn on the alarm. I got it set
for six-thirty and flopped back on the bed. I was nearly asleep when my phone
went off again.
Is this the life of a night shift worker
? I thought.
Trying to sleep during the day was impossible.

I rolled over
and took the call. “Hey, it’s me,
Lono
,” said a male
voice.

Lono
?
When I hesitated, the guy went on, “You know, about the car? You still want to
sell your car, man?”

“I’m afraid you
have the wrong number,” I said.

“You’re not
Lono
?” He sounded disappointed.

“No.”

Then he rattled
off a phone number that wasn’t even remotely similar to mine and said, “This
isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Sorry.” He
clicked off.

I disconnected
and stared at the phone for a few seconds before noticing a little icon showing
that I’d missed an incoming call. I checked it. The call must’ve come in while I
was on the bus. It was a familiar number, so I called back immediately.

CHAPTER 23

 

Farrah answered
on the second ring. A bolt of guilt shot through me when I realized I hadn’t
talked to her since she’d been stranded at
Tomika’s
high rise waiting out the rain storm.

“Hey,” I said.
“I hope you’re
back
home.”

“I am. We got
back late last night. I would’ve called you when we got here, but it was way
past your bedtime.”

“My bedtime’s
not what it used to be,” I said.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been
keeping strange hours. Down at Queen’s Hospital.”

“What happened?
Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but
my brother Stuart isn’t. Did you see the news? He was the guy who fell into the
Ala
Wai
Canal on Tuesday
night.”

“Oh,
my gosh
. That was him? Is he okay?”

“Not even. He
picked up an infection and he’s hanging on for dear life. In fact, they’re
amputating his leg today.”

“Oh no.
That’s awful.” She paused. “I haven’t been keeping
up with the news much. Probably because I’ve been busy making my own news.”

I didn’t know
what to say. Obviously, she expected me to say, ‘
what’s going on
?’ but I
knew whatever she had to tell me wasn’t going to dull the pain I felt over my
brother’s situation.

“Don’t you want
to know what it is?” she said. Her voice sounded bruised. 

She was my best
friend. I forced myself to rally. “Sure. I’m sorry to be so out of it. I spent
the whole night at the hospital and I’m kind of groggy.”

“Maybe I should
let you go,” she said. Now her voice had an edge. “You can call me when you’re
in the mood to talk.”

“No, I’m always
in the mood to talk to you. Just tell me your news. I’m sure it will cheer me
up.”

“Okay, are you
ready for this?”

Farrah was the
queen of
tah
-dah
. If I wanted to stay
on her good side, I’d better get out my pom-poms and play cheerleader.

“Yeah.
Really.
Tell me; I can’t
wait!”

That must’ve
done the trick because she said, “Ono asked me to marry him.”

“What!?”
If Farrah wanted a big response to her
tah
-dah
, she got it. I think whoever was on
the other side of my bedroom wall probably got it too.

“Hey, you don’t
need to yell in my ear. I’ll be the only bride in the world who has to get a
hearing aid that coordinates with her wedding colors.” 

“Seriously?
You and Ono are
seriously
talking about
getting married? But you just met him.”

“You know how I
work. I don’t operate on the usual time/space continuum. My ‘knowing’ comes
from deeper sources.”

“Farrah, I
understand. And I respect your deeper sources. But please tell me you’re at
least considering a long engagement.”

She giggled. “Well,
sure. It’s not like we’re running down to the courthouse next week or whatever.
We want you to do our wedding for us. That is, if you can squeeze us in next
month.”

 “Next
month?
Why so soon?”

“Because I always wanted to get married on Halloween.
And if
we miss it next month we’ll have to wait a whole year. And we can’t wait that
long. We just can’t.”

A thick fog of
fatigue suddenly enveloped me. More than anything, I just wanted to lie back
down on the bed and sleep until I couldn’t sleep another minute.

“I’m so happy
for both of you,” I said. “But today has been such a weird day. I’ll be home as
soon as Stu gets out of surgery and he’s on the mend. As soon as I get back,
you and I will have to hit the ground running.
Dresses,
flowers, shoes, music, caterers—the whole nine yards.”


Mahalo
,
Pali
. And of
course I want you to be my maid of honor. Will you do it?”

“I’d be
honored.”

“Oh, I get it,”
she said. “That’s why they call it ‘maid of honor.’
Because
it’s an honor.”

I held back
saying I’d always questioned the ‘honor’ of buying a dress I’d probably never
wear again, hosting a bridal shower and a tacky bachelorette party, and running
interference on the big day so the bride could remain serene and composed. But
that was the wedding planner in me. The best friend in me thought, ‘Wow. My
best friend’s in love.
With a great guy.
And they’re
getting married.’

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