Fire Games

by Mark Stewart

  THE GARDEN Lodge nursing home where Marg’s father, Earl Armanti had been living out the remainder of his days was an easy twenty-minute drive from Aura Lake. The home just happened to be top of the range. The facility included great security, excellent food, and friendly staff. After surviving the war years, Earl worked hard. He planned down to the letter where he and his wife would see out their lives.

  “Good morning Dr. Clarke,” called the security guard, standing the main door to the foyer. “Please forgive my staring at your chest I’d been trying to read your name tag. I haven’t seen you here before, and I’ve misplaced my glasses.”

  “You are forgiven.”

  Three steps from the main door the guard reached out and opened the glass door. Open palming his hand at the interior of the building he smiled at the good Doctor.

  “It’s going to be a warm day,” he mentioned, making idle chatter.

  “Yes, it will be,” replied the doctor. “Thank you for being most thoughtful.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” said the guard, his smile widening. “Will you be long?”

  “No. I’d say no more than twenty minutes.”

  The security guard frowned. He appeared to be contemplating why anyone, especially a doctor would go out of their way to make a cursory visit.

  “I am here to visit an old friend before I start another busy day,” stated the Doctor.

  “Enjoy your visit,” replied the guard.

  Dr. Clarke gestured a friendly wave. Marching past the front desk, she watched the middle-aged woman typing on a computer keyboard. The woman’s blonde hair stopped vibrating the moment she lifted her head.

  “Excuse me,” called the receptionist.

  The doctor flicked a blue stare at the woman.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “You forgot to sign in.”

  “Forgive me it is my first time here.”

  The receptionist stepped from behind the computer. Her skirt brushed the branch of a small bonsai plant on her approach to the small open glass window.

  “I’m sorry to have to stop you, Doctor,” said the woman. “The nursing home has rules.” She picked up a red leather bound book and dropped it firmly onto the ledge of the office window. “After you’ve signed in, don’t forget to wear the visitor’s tag.”

  Dr. Clarke smiled and printed her name in the opened book. She downed her pen and snatched up a visitor’s tag out of the small white plastic basket next to the window.

  “Thanks for your help,” jeered Doctor Clarke. Turning her back to the receptionist, she started to walk away.

  “Doctor before you go, you forgot to write down the name of the person you’re visiting.”

  “I am seeing Earl Armanti.”

  The receptionist flashed a grin as she thrust the book at Doctor Clarke. Back stepping she quickly snatched up the pen and scribbled his name.

  “You’re the second visitor to see Earl this morning.”

  “Is the visitor still here?”

  “No, Patrick signed out ten minutes ago.”

  “Who did you say the visitor was?”

  The woman rolled her hazel eyes. “I do hate repeating my words. I thought doctors were supposed to have good hearing. I can understand the general public, but a doctor?”

  “Please, it is extremely important.”

  “Patrick,” blurted the receptionist.

  “In which room can I find Earl Armanti?”

  “Take the elevator at the end of this corridor. Room seventeen is directly opposite the lift door on the first floor. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you for all your help.”

  The receptionist watched the doctor walk to the lift before settling back behind the computer screen.

  Inside the lift, Dr. Clarke pushed the first-floor button. She watched the doors close.

  The doors slid open opposite room seventeen. It was a bright, warm, two-bed, room. Clarke strolled up to and stood over the bed closest to the door. The male occupant appeared to be asleep.

  “Earl Armanti, are you awake?”

  Doctor Clarke waited a moment before calling his name again. The man didn’t respond.

  “You are a very heavy sleeper, Earl.” She looked across the room towards the window. “Do you know where the person is who occupies the other bed?”

  Again, Earl didn’t respond.

  Dr. Clarke sighed and took hold of Earl’s hand. “You have very cold hands.” She checked his pulse. “Now I know why you did not say hello.” She gently placed his hand back onto the sheet. Bowing her head, she walked back to the reception desk.

  “Back so soon?” chirped the receptionist.

  “Yes. Mr. Armanti has passed away. Could you inform his wife?”

  “Certainly, Doctor,” whispered the woman. “You needn’t worry; I’ll arrange everything.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dr. Clarke turned and walked towards the main door. The security guard stepped across her path and stabbed the buttons, 21450, on the security pad and opened the door.

  “Goodbye, Doctor. Come again real soon.”

  She nodded and walked to her car parked seventy-nine easy paces from the front door. The guard watched her open the driver’s door and slip behind the steering wheel.

  “Excuse me Doc,” said a deep voice from behind her.

  The woman cringed. Her pupils darted back and forth.

  “Yes,” she choked.

  “Take me home.”

  Looking into the rear-view mirror Doctor Clarke stiffened. “How did you get in here?”

  “Hey, you left the door unlocked. Hold on; I’ll climb into the front.

  “Patrick, why are you here?”

  “I came to visit Earl.”

  “Did you murder him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I hate what Kendal did to you. He’s a monster. He had no right to grope you like he did.”

  “Earl Armanti is innocent of all this mess. He doesn’t know I exist.”

  “His daughter married Kendal.”

  “The accident happened a long time ago. I have forgiven Kendal. You should too.”

  “Never,” growled Patrick.

  “I have told you countless times over the years the incident was nothing more than an accident,” explained Doctor Clarke.

  “It was no accident,” barked Patrick.

  “Give up the chase.”

  “No. Besides, you need me more than I need you,” stated Patrick. “Hey Doc, do you want me to prove it?”

  Patrick produced a syringe and pointed the needle at Dr. Clarke’s leg.

  She squirmed in an attempt to move her leg away.

  “Do you agree?” probed Patrick. “By the expression on your face, I can tell you need more convincing?” The point of the needle touched the Doctor’s leg. “I reckon you’ve forgotten about all those tears you cried from the stress, the anguish and the pain Kendal put you through. How one forgets.”

  “Time heals,” sobbed Doctor Clarke.

  “Have you forgotten how I witnessed your nightmares first hand? For months, I heard you crying in your sleep, ‘why me?’ Your anger, your pain, they ate away at me too. No, Dr. Ashlee Clarke, I won’t stop. Vengeance is mine. All mine.”

  Dr. Clarke lifted her hands and covered her eyes. Her sobs quickly escalated.

  “You win Patrick. You are right as usual. You were there when my parent’s house burnt down. You were the one who told them we were playing hide and seek. You were the one who told them you were inside searching and I was outside behind the woodpile. You were the one punished; not me.” She dropped her hands. Tears streamed down her face. She stared at Patrick. “You should not have taken the punishment for me.”

  “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” quizzed Patrick.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s not good. When we first met, you were a handsome, decent, kind, caring person. You were always there when
I needed you. Now, after all, the years I’ve known you, anger has turned you ugly.”

  Patrick grinned and threw the needle on the floor.

  “I’d never hurt you, Doc. Here, wipe your eyes and give me a smile.”

  She obeyed. Through the rear-view mirror, she saw the security guard studying her from a window. She watched him walk to the building’s main door. A moment later, he stepped outside talking on his two-way radio and pointing to the car.

  “Patrick, talk fast. Tell me about your visit; we have to leave.”

  “Drive, I’ll tell you on the way.”

  The car’s engine roared to life. The guard’s large stomach swayed as he broke into a run. A shower of stones from the car’s spinning wheels forced him to double over and cover his head.

  Dr. Clarke watched the guard’s expression in the rearview mirror as she drove towards the front gate. He waved his arms as if he had surrendered. Patrick moved the rear-view mirror and watched the guard walk back to the building’s main door. After the car had turned the corner, he studied the reflection in the mirror.

  “Forget what I said before. You’ll always be handsome to me,” said Dr. Clarke.

  Patrick grinned and slapped her leg. “I love the new perfume you bought last week. Your new hairstyle is tops. The blonde ponytail makes you look ten years younger.”

  “Stop stalling. Tell me about your visit?”

  “Why?”

  “So I can cover your tracks.”

  “I arrived early in one of my many disguises.”

  “Which disguise did you use?” questioned Doctor Clarke.

  “The full beard peppered grey hair, dark glasses and I used my old walking stick. The woman at the reception desk couldn’t do enough for me. She fetched the sign in book, escorted me to the lift and walked me to where Earl Armanti was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. After she had left, I introduced myself. I did feel annoyed when he didn’t respond. As fate would have it, my beard became itchy. I took it off and placed it on the bed.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “Yes, he discovered my identity. I did the only thing I could.”

  “You murdered him. You murdered a harmless old man.”

  “He helped breed a Kendal. I gave him an injection; Euthanasia. I told him it’s for his own good.”

  Dr. Clarke lifted her left hand and massaged her temple the moment she heard Patrick laugh.

  “You should’ve seen the look of anger in the old man’s eyes when he realized he had seconds to live.”

  “You should not have done it.”

  “Hey, I did him a favour. The stupid old man had dementia and was going to die anyway.”

  Dr. Clarke stopped the car at the side of the road. She lowered her gaze to look at her feet.

  “Hey, that’s not the exciting part,” chirped Patrick.

  Lifting her red swollen eyes, Doctor Clarke stared into Patrick’s murderous eyes.

  “There is more?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s not my fault Kendal changed the rules.”

  Two buses, each one packed to the roof of screaming school children going on an excursion zoomed past. The majority of the boys were hanging their arms or head out of the window. Others were throwing rubbish at the people walking along the footpath.

  “Those kids are our future,” spat Patrick. “They’re brats. I’ve no time for brats. They will all be adults someday. After the flogging, I received from my cop father over the accidental fire he said I started deliberately when we were kids, I hate all male adults. I made sure my father died in the next fire. I don’t reckon nothing can squeal louder than he did. If you’re wondering about the man who attacked you after the ‘accident,’ as you called it, in the nightclub where you were dancing, he died the same way as my father.”

  “Do you know anything about what happened to the old man who sleeps opposite Earl Armanti?” asked Doctor Clarke.

  “Sure, I do. It’s the exciting part I haven’t told you yet. The old fella shuffled out of the toilet at the wrong time. He saw me give the injection to Earl. He was appalled at what I was doing. He croaked he was going to tell the security guard. He forced me into breaking his neck. Someone will find him sitting on the toilet sooner or later. Whichever of the two is first, I don’t care. He should never have threatened to snitch on me.”

  “Patrick, I have decided I do not want you in my life anymore.”

  “Doc, I don’t believe you. You broke the rules when you were seven by touching the petrol can. You asked me to help. I took your punishment, and now you say you don’t want me in your life. You owe me. I told you back then no one will touch you again. If they do, I’ll punish them. Kendal broke my rules; he must be punished. Now if you don’t mind. Thanks for the lift. There’s the hospital. You can walk the remainder of the way? I’ve a few loose, ends to tie off. Don’t forget one important thing.”

  Doctor Clarke sent Patrick a blank look.

  “I didn’t change the rules.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN