by Ward Wagher
“And do you believe Margaret’s fall was an accident?”
Larry shook his head. “I was willing to believe that until it came time to take her to the airport.”
“Explain, please.” Arthur’s clipped phrases carried the tone of command.
“Two men from Clark Transport arrived to take Maggie to the airport. They didn’t have the code word. When the real guys arrived, the first two just disappeared.”
Arthur leaned back in his seat and rubbed his mouth. Larry looked out the windows as the car traversed the streets of Indianapolis. The snow banks along the road indicated it had been plowed recently, and the ride was smooth.
“Are we going to the hospital?” Larry asked.
“Yes. Of course. I know you will want to stay near her. I desire to hear her prognosis as soon as possible.”
“Me, too,” Larry commented. “I just can’t believe what happened.”
“For whatever reasons, someone does not desire your research to continue,” Arther said. “I believe that is clear. From perusing your reports, I believe you are now able to proceed independently upon your work.”
“Does that matter, now?” Larry asked.
Arthur gave him a sad smile. “Five years ago my wife passed. I sat down for six months and waited to die, myself. Do you know, Mr. Berthold, that life goes on? Every day I awaken to the pain that my wife is no longer with me. But, I rise and continue with my tasks. I fervently hope Margaret will survive this, but you have tasks to complete.”
Larry looked down at the carpeted floor of the car and then back up at Winkleman. “That sounds kind of cold-hearted, Sir.”
“I wept when I heard about Margaret. My wife and I had no children. I have always tried to help and encourage young people. At some point, Lawrence, you simply must pick yourself up and move on. We will do our best for Margaret.”
Larry now leaned back in the seat in confusion. Arthur Winkleman was a cipher. Did he truly care for Maggie, or did he simply want to get his hands on Larry’s research? After everything that had happened, he wondered who to trust.
“And you do not appreciate what I am saying,” Arthur continued.
Larry steepled his fingers on his forehead and tried to quell an incipient headache. Why did things have to be so difficult?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Winkleman, I know I’m not thinking clearly. After last night….”
“And I apologize for being insensitive. Let’s get Margaret on the mend before we discuss other things.”
“Thank you,” Larry said.
He looked out the window as they rolled along. The snow cover made the city look very clean. Even so, he saw none of the piles of rubble that characterized Boston and Cambridge. New-looking buildings dotted the landscape, and the citizens of Indianapolis had clearly planned the layout of the city. Their driver turned off of a broad boulevard and followed a drive through a broad esplanade to the front doors of a four-story building of red brick. The brazen caduceus adorning the wall of the building identified the hospital.
The driver rolled to a stop, and Arthur opened his door. Larry followed suit and got out of the car. They walked into the building. In the lobby, Winkleman walked over to where an elderly man in a white doctor’s coat waited.
“Morning, Arthur. We had the patient under treatment almost as soon as she arrived.”
“Thanks, Basil,” Winkleman said. “And allow me to introduce Lawrence Berthold. He is… close to the patient. Lawrence, this is Dr. Basil Keldar.”
Larry nodded his head as he shook the man’s hand. “Dr. Keldar. How is she?”
“I came up to the front entrance as soon as I heard the Paladin was on the way. I have nothing for you right now, young man. I have, however, reserved the fourth-floor waiting room. If you two would follow me, please.”
As they walked towards the elevator, Arthur spoke. “Dr. Keldar is the Medical Chief of Staff for the hospital. I have also known him for fifty years.”
“As you may surmise, Mr. Berthold, fifty years is a long time to know anyone,” Keldar said.
He showed an impish smile and his eyes twinkled. Larry said nothing as he marched to the elevator. He wished somebody could tell him something about Maggie. Winkleman and Keldar maintained an easy conversation as the elevator smoothly rose to the fourth floor. The old friends effortlessly picked up topics from previous meetings, it seemed to Larry.
The waiting room looked to Larry like it was used as a private conference room. The room was carpeted, for one thing. Nobody could afford carpet in this era, and Larry wondered where it was manufactured. The deep brown walnut paneling was polished to a high sheen and contrasted the beige curtains over the windows. Paintings of Midwestern landscapes were placed along the walls. At one end of the room, a round table of highly polished wood was flanked by five chairs. The wood in the table was lighter than the walls and looked to Larry like it was oak. The chairs were framed of the same wood and were graced with leather upholstery.
A conversation nook dominated the other end of the room. The heavy leather sofa and easy chairs formed a square with a coffee table in the center. Opposite the sofa, a buffet dominated the other wall. A coffee urn and platters of pastries rested upon the top. Dr. Keldar guided them to the sofa.
“Please have a seat. As soon as we can discover anything on the condition of Ms. Bosstic, someone will come to inform you.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, Basil,” Winkleman said.
“Oh, nonsense, Arthur. You have done us more favors than we could possibly ever repay. We are happy to help, particularly in this situation.”
Keldar turned to Larry. “And try not to fret, young man. Your lady friend is getting the best possible care. I am confident this is the best hospital on the continent, if not the world.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Larry said quietly.
“There is a concierge outside of the room,” Keldar said. “If you need anything at all, please ask him.”
With a nod, Keldar bustled out of the room. Winkleman turned to Larry.
“Why not sit down and relax, Lawrence. I need to step out into the hallway and make some phone calls. I’ll see the doctor whenever he comes with an update.”
Larry collapsed into the sofa. It seemed very comfortable. He sat and looked around the room, and then down at his hands. He felt like he was waiting for Maggie to die and did not like the thought. The accumulated stress had taken its toll, and within five minutes he had drifted off to sleep.
Larry wondered why he couldn’t move. He looked down and his feet were embedded in the concrete sidewalk in front of Maseeh Hall. Mrs. Willow swung her broom at him. He was able to avoid the straw by swaying around his motionless feet. Mrs. Willow shouted for him to hold still, but he was still able to keep from being hit. Seb Sylvester grabbed his shoulder and told him to hold still.
He looked up to see Arthur Winkleman holding on to his shoulder. “We have news, Lawrence.”
Larry struggled to his feet and turned to see Dr. Keldar also standing in the room.
“I guess I dropped off, there,” he said.
Arthur chuckled softly. “You’ve been asleep for two hours. It was clear you needed the rest.”
“What about Maggie?”
Winkleman frowned and nodded to the doctor.
Keldar cleared his throat. “Ms. Bosstic will live.”
Larry sighed heavily and felt as though a weight was lifted off his shoulders. “Oh, thank you. That is wonderful news.”
The doctor continued. “As I was saying, she will certainly survive. However, there was nerve damage, and we were, of course, unable to begin treatment sooner. There may well be some paralysis, although we will not know further until she regains consciousness. These types of injuries are unpredictable.”
“What kind of paralysis?” Larry asked.
“She may never walk again.”
Larry sat down on the sofa again, heavily this time. “My poor Maggie.”
“She is very lucky to be
alive,” Keldar said. “She also sustained several broken ribs and a broken arm. There are a lot of contusions as well. This is in addition to the concussion and nerve damage. She will be uncomfortable for a while.”
“Can I see her?”
“Certainly, you may. And, you have use of the room here for as long as you need.”
Larry stood up again. “Let’s go. I need to see her.”
“Fine,” Keldar said. “I will show you the way. I will also tell the staff of ICU that you may come and go as you please. I will have meals brought to the waiting room, here. You can sleep in here if you wish.”
“Thanks, Doc. Let’s go.”
Maggie was wrapped head to foot in bandages. The staff here had apparently unwrapped the bandages to treat her since the current bandages seemed more professional than what he had seen in Boston. She was very still, with only the steady rise and fall of her chest to indicate she was alive.
“May I sit here beside her?” Larry quietly asked the doctor.
“Yes, you may. You may spend as much time as you desire in here. The staff will only ask you to leave during the routine housekeeping operations.”
“I understand,” he said.
He parked himself on the chair next to the bed where Maggie lay and studied her. He had never been around anyone as badly injured, particularly not someone he was close to. He spent the day in the room and finally retreated to the fourth-floor waiting room, after a trip to the restroom.
A small buffet had been set out, and he helped himself to roast beef, potatoes and a selection of vegetables. While he was eating, the concierge stepped into the room carrying a cot and blankets.
“Mr. Winkleman asked that we allow you to sleep here,” the concierge said. “He said that he would return tomorrow to visit.”
“Thank you, but I probably will not need it,” he said. “I would like to go back to sit with Maggie some more.”
“Of course, Sir.”
After the meal, he was overcome with a wave of exhaustion and decided to lay down, just for a little while. His eyes closed, and he did not hear the concierge quietly remove the dinner from the room. Light began seeping into the room from the windows the next morning when he opened his eyes again. He sat up quickly to see Arthur Winkleman sitting on one of the sofas, sipping a cup of coffee.
“I hope I did not disturb you,” he said with his characteristic small smile.
Larry scrubbed his face with his hands. “I was going to go back to see Maggie last night. I guess I dropped off.”
“You must have needed the rest,” Winkleman said. “Have some breakfast, and then I will walk down to the ICU with you.”
Another set of warmers had been set out on the buffet. Larry was amazed he had not heard the staff moving around in the room. He helped himself to bacon and eggs, along with hash-browns. The food tasted wonderful. He washed it down with a cup of coffee.
“I spoke with the nurses when I came in,” Arthur said. “They seemed to think Margaret was slightly improved this morning.”
“I wish she would wake up,” Larry said.
“The doctors seem to think she will wake up in her own good time. With the level of pain that she would surely experience, probably it is better to be in a coma.”
Larry set his plate on the corner of the buffet and turned. “All right. Let’s go.”
They had to wait for a few minutes while the nurses and the doctor attended to Maggie. She did not look very different when Larry walked in.
“She is doing well,” the nurse said.
Winkleman chatted with the nurses for a few minutes and then left. Larry sat in the chair and tried to relax. He drifted off to sleep again and wakened abruptly when he heard Maggie moan. He stood up to look at her. Her eyes were open, and they tracked over to him.
“Maggie,” Larry said.
“Hurt,” she said.
“You’re in the hospital in Indianapolis. Arthur brought us here.”
“Wha’ happened?” she slurred.
“You fell down the stairs in Maseeh Hall. You’re going to be all right.”
“Thas’ good,” she said. Then her eyes closed again.
Larry jumped when he realized one of the nurses was standing next to him.
“Oh, sorry, Mr. Berthold. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. That’s a good sign that she awakened, however briefly.”
The nurse stepped over and typed some notes into the computer terminal next to the bed.
“Would it be possible for me to have my computer here with me?” Larry asked.
The nurse touched her lip with an index finger. “I do not know. I will ask the floor manager and get an answer for you.”
The instructions were for the staff to assist Larry in any way reasonable, and Arthur Winkleman would pick up any additional costs. Since Winkleman had contributed a substantial portion of the building costs for the hospital, the staff was well motivated to help anyway.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
After three days in intensive care, Maggie was returning to her normal self. Larry was delighted to see her responding well. On the other hand, she was much less tolerant of his antics. And, being her usual devious self, she waited until Winkleman was in the room before launching her attack.
“How much of your dissertation have you completed in the past couple of days?” she asked.
“I haven’t worked on it,” Larry replied, nervous about what was coming next.
“And why have you not been working on it?”
“I’ve been trying to take care of you,” he said. “I didn’t know if you were going to live or die.”
Although she was still very weak, she managed a snort. “Always the excuses. Arthur, do we have a place for Larry to stay? If we don’t keep him busy, all he will do is hang around here all day. He certainly has better things to do.”
“Oh, come on, Maggie,” Larry argued back. “You were really sick.”
“And I am recovering,” she said primly. “Besides, you are driving me crazy by sitting around with nothing to do.”
“They wouldn’t let me bring my computer in here,” he said.
“Exactly.”
“I have a suite set up in the hotel,” Winkleman said. “Lawrence’s things have been delivered there. He can leave with me, and I will make sure he is set up there.”
Maggie grinned at Larry. “You see, that wasn’t so hard. Arthur is paying us both good money to get our doctoral work complete. I’ve finished mine. Guess who hasn’t?”
“You are not playing fair, Mags,” Larry grumped.
“Listen, you can come to visit me every day for an hour. Once I get out of here, we will be working together again, anyway. By then you will probably have figured out a way to get yourself into trouble. You seem to do that.”
“Oh, thanks, Maggie.”
She looked over at Winkleman. “Arthur, thanks for your help. And, thanks for making arrangements for Larry. As you know, we have to keep him out from under foot.”
Arthur’s eyes twinkled. “We try our very best, Margaret. Once we have Lawrence occupied, you will, of course, focus on resting and getting well.”
“Thanks. Good night, Guys.”
They stopped by the fourth-floor waiting room, which had been Larry’s home for the week, and picked up his coat. They then took the elevator to the ground floor and walked through the lobby. Winkleman’s car was waiting at the door, and they quickly moved across the portico to climb in.
“It’s not getting any warmer,” Larry said.
“We are a couple of months away from that,” Winkleman said. “The summers here are pleasant but brief.”
They rode in silence as Larry watched the city drift past. Finally, he spoke again.
“It’s probably a good thing I’m going to the hotel. I can smell myself. I need a shower.”
“I would be loath to suggest anyone complained about that,” Winkleman said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Win
kleman smiled and shrugged. They rode again in silence for a while.
“She’s never going to walk again, is she?” Larry asked.
Winkleman gave him a piercing look. Then he shook his head. “The doctors are not optimistic. There was just too much nerve damage. But, still….”
“I need to help her overcome this.”
“Lawrence, you are not helping her by being a limpet.”
“But, I don’t want to lose her. She’s the only person I have ever loved. You don’t know how terrified I was on the flight here. I was sure she was gone.”
“I do know how terrified you were,” Winkleman said softly. “When the doctor told me Brandy had cancer, I nearly died myself. I couldn’t bear to lose her. I started spending every minute with her until she threw me out. She told me my job was to carry on with my life and to come home at the end of each day so I could share it with her. Those last five months with her were not only the worst of my life, but they were also the best. We had never been so close. If you truly do not want to lose Margaret, you need to give her the space she needs.”
“I have asked her to marry me several times, and she always shuts me down.”
“And why is that?” Winkleman asked gently.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know what a limpet is?”
“Something that clings tightly,” Larry replied.
“That is good enough. Margaret cares as much for you as you do for her. But you never give her space.”
“I am going to have to spend the rest of my life caring for her, you know,” he said. “I am happy to do it, but it tears me up to see her this way.”
“If you marry her, you would spend the rest of your life taking care of her regardless,” Winkleman said. “You have a life to live, but she does also. Part of your job will be to give her space. Particularly now, because she will be so dependent on you. She needs as much freedom as her condition allows.”
“That is going to be very tough,” Larry said.
“I agree,” Winkleman replied. “It will be very difficult. Margaret needs you now more than ever. But, she doesn’t need you to smother her.”
Larry reviewed the conversation in his mind until they arrived at the hotel. The doorman came out to open the door.