by J. R. WRIGHT
“I don’t know yet,” Gloria said, casting a smile Martina’s way. “But I will, before the night is over. I’m a fast study of body language. It tells a lot about a person.”
“Just exactly what are you looking for?”
“Charm, mostly. But not too much charm. Too much charm means he’s in it just for himself. Once finished with you, he couldn’t care less whether you live or die…he’s out of there.”
“I think Parker is charming,” Marti said. “But not overly so. I mean, he’s not sickening with it. But he is charming.”
“How about hip action? Have you ever danced with him?”
“Oh, come on, Gloria! Jeeze! Now I know you’re pulling my leg.” Martina laughed.
“Hip action is very important. You want to be satisfied, don’t you?”
“It’s just the first time, for Christ’s sake!” Marti said. “It’s clinical. I’m sure I’m not going to have an orgasm or anything. I’ve done my research.”
“I did…” Gloria said boldly. “But I made the guy do lots of foreplay before I gave in. He later became my first husband. He had great hip action… but little else… zero personality. Poor man…”
“Oh, here he comes!” Martina said, in a loud whisper. “Shhhh! I don’t want him to think we’re talking about him.”
“We’re not!”
“We were!” Marti then put a smile on her face and turned to the door as it opened. “Wow! Do you look nice,” she said, eyeing him in his tight jeans and colorful western shirt, a ten-gallon black hat on his head.
“Thanks, Doc,” he said and slid under the wheel.
“Is that Old Spice? My dad wears that.” The smell made her briefly homesick and a bit melancholy.
“It is,” Parker said and started the truck. “But if your dad wears it, maybe I ought to switch. How about Aqua Velva? Do you like that?”
Thinking this all so silly, Gloria said, “I like the smell of the man. But then, I’m a bit primitive.”
Not knowing what to think of that, Martina said, “Stick with the Old Spice, Parker.”
They arrived at their destination after near an hour drive, shortly before nine. By the sound of the music resonating from inside the place more resembled a country honkytonk than a barbeque. At least judging from the rusty tin clad exterior, Marti observed as they walked across the gravel lot toward the entrance.
“I’m famished,” Gloria said weakly from behind.
“Oh, honey!” Marti doubled back for her. “We’ll be eating soon, okay?” She took her arm and fell in behind Parker, leading the way. “How are you holding up, otherwise?”
“I’m better. Thanks for asking.”
“Wonderful!” Marti’s mind had been so occupied with the pros and cons of taking the naughty plunge with Parker, and in doing so shamefully had ignored the possible medical needs of her friend. While she was riding center seat in the truck on the way here, Parker’s hand had brushed the inside of her leg several times, while working the floor shift. Each time that’d happened, a desire shot through her — toes to scalp — some of which lingered yet. But as far as Gloria was concerned, she’d brought one of the Plaximin along — with some aspirin — if any unbearable amount of pain should return. Thankfully, though, it appeared the worst of it was over for her now. It had been two hours since Gloria had taken just two aspirin.
The buffet line inside the packed restaurant, due to the hour, was minimal. As was the spread — a single tray with a length of brown butcher’s paper atop it was to suffice as the serving platter for them all. After consulting with the ladies as to their likes, Parker had it loaded with sliced beef brisket, pulled pork, ribs, and link sausage from the selection before them. Single servings of potato salad, baked beans, and numerous slices of bread were added. Plates, silver, and napkins were collected further up the line before moving on to a table in another room, where a country band played.
No sooner had they seated themselves than a waiter showed up to take their drink orders. It ended up to be beers all around after Parker said, “What’s barbeque without beer?” Gloria wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but even she thought the combination was delightful.
Once everyone had their fill, there was still a goodly amount of meats left on the tray. Gloria took it upon herself to wrap it in the butcher paper on the tray and ask for a bag to put it in. “Thank you, Parker. That was delicious.” She gave him her best smile, as it was, with the sunglasses covering a goodly portion of her face.
“My pleasure,” he returned. “Since you have been so tidy with the leftovers, Gloria, why don’t you take that home with you?” he offered.
“Well, aren’t you a darling. I’m delighted.” She smacked her hand and blew him a kiss.
“Yes, thank you, Parker,” Marti said, and to top Gloria, she leaned over a planted a kiss firmly on his lips.
“Wow!” Parker said. “If that’s all it takes to get such attention, we’ll need to do this more often.”
Then, when the band started playing Blue Skirt Waltz, he asked Martina if she wanted to dance. She readily accepted and glanced to Gloria before heading to the dance floor, wondering if she would take note of Parkers hip action while out there. But then, she soon discovered she didn’t need Gloria’s opinion of that. Parker was a wonderful dancer, and the hip action was superb. “You’re a regular Arthur Murray, aren’t you,” Marti offered, in the way of a compliment.
“I have an older sister,” he said. “You’re quite good yourself.”
“I have an older father.” Marti laughed. “The poor man had to teach me, since I was a wallflower, and the boys in the neighborhood would have nothing to do with me.”
“I find that hard to believe, Doc.” Parker smiled down at her beautiful face.
“It’s true! I was such a gangly youth the kids at school took to calling me Spider.”
“How cruel!”
“Yes, it was.”
“Well. I guess you showed them. You must have been slow to mature?”
“Yes, I guess I was.” Marti said. But he didn’t know the half of it. Twenty-five and still a virgin! Disgraceful!
After two more waltzes, they returned to the table to find Gloria with a fresh glass of wine and appearing quite dejected. Being the gentleman he was, Parker wondered if perhaps he should ask Gloria to dance and suggested it to Martina. “Oh, would you? She must feel left out. Poor thing!”
Gloria, however, declined. “I don’t believe my wretched body is quite up to that yet. Thank you for asking, though. That was sweet.”
“Honey, would you like to go home?” Marti asked.
“And throw a wrench in your plans, twice in one night? Not on your life.”
“Are the pains returning?” Marti persisted.
Seeing where this was going, Parker suggested, “Why don’t we have one for the road, then call it a night. It is a long ride home.”
“You don’t need to cut it short on my account,” Gloria tossed in. “Once I’m home, you two can go off and do whatever it is you have a mind to do, to each other.” She punctuated that with a sheepish smile, while glaring at the two of them.
This left puzzled looks on both the faces across the table. “Gloria!” Martina’s mouth gaped in disbelief.
“Oh, quit!” Gloria laughed. “You both know what you want. Why don’t you just admit it to each other and get on with it? Life’s short. Time’s a wastin’.” She took the last gulp from her wine.
“Oh, God! Whatever am I going to do with you?” Marti couldn’t help but giggle briefly before glancing to Parker, who was smiling broadly.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Parker brought his truck to a stop at the curb of the apartment building at eleven thirty with the intention of waiting out front for Martina to return, once she had Gloria secured inside. They had agreed to have a nightcap at Hannity’s before it closed, then who knew what may happen. At least, he remained hopeful. It was only a second or two after they had entered the build
ing… that he heard a hair raising scream. It had come from inside. That prompted him to scramble from the truck and race for the door. Gloria came screaming out just prior to his arrival and seeing she was physically okay, he slipped through behind her. Instantly, thirty feet away, he saw Martina performing dodge ball maneuvers to avoid thrusts from a huge man, welding a rather large knife.
Parker didn’t hesitate. And within the bat of an eye, reminiscent of his college football days, he was all over the big man, with a force that drove him into a distant wall. There they briefly scuffled over the knife. The bigger man, however, prevailed and soon sent Parker reeling to the side. This gave the attacker an opening to make a break for the door, and he took it, with all the haste a man of his hefty bulk could muster. No longer seeing the knife, Marti had a different notion and charged after him. After all, Gloria was out there somewhere. And it was her he was clearly after when Marti first caught sight of him, charging toward her from the shadows behind the stairs.
Martina caught up to him just as he was pushing through the door and landed a forceful, double boot, drop kick to his posterior. This sent the man sprawling to the concrete landing out front. Regaining her legs, Martina stepped through the open door. Then, biding her time for the right moment, she eventually landed a pointed boot squarely into the fat man’s groin, just as he got to his knees. This brought forth an ugly, loud groan, before leaving the man writhing in pain, pulling himself into an agonizing ball… as best he could.
Looking around for Gloria, Marti spotted her as she popped up from behind Parker’s blue truck. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” Gloria returned, coming around the Chevy. “My God, Martina! What was that about?” she screeched.
“I don’t know, honey, but do you think you could knock on the apartment manager’s door and have her dial the police?”
“Sure,” Gloria said and cautiously circled wide of the moaning man on her way to the door. But no sooner did she enter than she screamed again.
“Oh, my God! Parker…!” In a flash, Marti was beside Gloria and before them was Parker McLean, a bloody knife in one hand, clutching his stomach with the other, blood oozing from between the fingers. “Parker!” In an instant she was by his side. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” She put an arm around his back and a hand over his, on the abdomen. “Can you walk?”
“I think so,” Parker responded with a grimace.
“Gloria, get the door!” Martina said, marching along beside him.
“Don’t you think we should call an ambulance?” Gloria asked, but did as she was told.
“There’s no time for that. We’ve got to get him to somewhere they can stop this bleeding.” Outside, in her concern for Parker, she didn’t even notice the fat man was no longer there. However, Gloria did. She had checked on him before opening the door.
Marti half-carried Parker across the street and shouted at Gloria again. “Gloria, get the truck door!”
“I don’t want blood in my truck,” Parker protested weakly.
“Open the tailgate then, Gloria!” The order caused Gloria to reverse course and rush to the rear, where she removed the chain hooks and dropped the tailgate down.
Martina helped Parker in, then climbed up beside him where she could continue putting pressure on the wound. “Can you drive, Gloria?”
“Of course I can drive. I don’t know about that stick shift though. I learned on an automatic.” Gloria climbed into the truck and soon had it started. What followed, though, was unmerciful. First the truck lunged backward and stopped. Then, after a horrible grinding of every gear in the transmission, the truck lunged forward again, but since it was in second gear, it stalled out.
“She’s killing me,” Parker groaned.
Finally, Gloria got it into a lower gear and roared away from the curb. And just as she did, a police car came down the street, siren blaring, and pulled to the curb right where they had been. No doubt, with all the commotion someone in the building had called them. Meanwhile, Gloria cut a U-turn in the middle of the block and gunned it in the opposite direction. Seeing what was going on in the back, the police car did likewise and came in behind them.
In their blinding headlights Martina did her best to signal an injured person was aboard. Then she screamed to Gloria, “Don’t stop!”
Gloria managed to find second gear and shortly thereafter, third. After that, there was no stopping her until they reached County General, eight blocks away. Once into the well-lighted emergency entrance, she leaned on the horn until coming to a jerking stop in a near proximity of the door. The police car pull up behind them, two officers exited it and approached cautiously, shining flashlights where they weren’t really needed.
“What happened back there?” one of them asked just as a gurney rolled out of the emergency room door, pushed by two attendants.
“This man was stabbed!” Martina remained where she was, applying pressure on the wound.
“By whom?”
“I don’t know, by whom… A gigantic fat man.”
“Excuse me!” The attendants rolled the gurney up and positioned themselves to slide Parker, who was barely conscious, from the truck. “Did I hear you say this man was stabbed?”
“He was,” Marti said. “The blade was about five inches in length. I just hope it didn’t puncture his spleen.”
“Are you a nurse, ma’am?” one of the attendants asked.
“I am,” she said.
“Then you’d better come with us.”
“Okay,” Marti stepped down from the truck, keeping the pressure on as the two loaded the body onto the gurney. “You’re going to be okay, Parker,” she said, looking into his pale face, knowing shock was consuming him.
“Thanks, Doc. I needed that,” he said in a near whisper, and tried to muster a smile that failed miserably.
Once they had gone, the two officers focused their attention on Gloria, who stayed with the truck. “What happened to you?” one of them asked.
“Nothing happened to me.”
“I can see you have a pair of shiners there.”
“Oh, that,” Gloria reached up and found she no longer had her sunglasses on, then remembered she had removed them in the truck to see better. “Some boxes fell on me at work, Friday.”
“So that’s totally unrelated to what happened tonight,” the taller, but older, of the two asked.
“Totally.”
“So, what did happen?”
Short staffed in the ER at this hour, they were happy to have Martina’s help initially. Once the blood was typed, she even hooked up the transfusion, as others took vitals and prepped Parker for surgery.
Through all of this, Martina never stopped talking. She made sure Parker knew everything that was being done to save his life, but not in such a way that he would know death was even a possibility. “Did you feel that? Stay with me Parker! Now’s not a time to be napping.”
“I’m here, Doc,” she was happy to hear him say. “You know you’re going to owe me big time when this is all over.”
“Oh, I know. Big time!” Marti checked the monitor and saw blood pressure was improving, along with the pulse rate.
“We have a surgeon on the way, Miss Spalding,” an attendant ducked into the room to say. “We’ll need to move him to OR in a few minutes. If you’re going to be in there you’ll need to scrub up beforehand.”
“Great news! Did you hear that Parker?” she said cheerfully. “I can be in the room with you.”
“Make sure they don’t cut off anything important, Doc.”
“Rest assured of that,” Marti smiled down at him. “I have a vested interest, you know.”
“Now yer talkin’!”
Marti took one more look at the monitors. Seeing all was progressing nicely, she said, “Give me a minute Parker…. I promise I’ll be back in one minute, okay?”
“You got it, Doc.”
With that, she scrambled from the room and headed outside. She was relieved to see Gloria
still talking to the police officers. “Don’t you leave her alone!” she said, approaching. “Her life is in danger.”
“Would you mind explaining that, Miss… Spalding?” the older officer looked at his notes. Gloria had given up her name.
“I’ll be more than happy to answer all your questions, officer. But for the next hour or two I’m going to be very busy inside.” She then pulled Gloria in for a hug. “You holding up okay?”
“I’ll be fine. How’s Parker?”
“He’s holding his own, for now. I’ll tell him you asked.”
“Good. Thanks.”
Then, before going back inside, Martina remembered her purse and passed by Parker’s truck to retrieve it. She had left it on the seat earlier, when she’d gone with Gloria inside the apartment building, expecting to return. That all seemed so long ago, now.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Exiting the operating room over an hour later in cap and gown, Marti went searching for Gloria and spotted her in the waiting room down the hall. Rushing up, she reported gleefully, “He’s going to be okay!” With that, the tears began to flow. Now that it was over, she could finally let go, and she pulled Gloria in for a lingering hug while she cried silently, her body retching violently. Coming to the realization it was now okay to do so, Gloria began unburdening herself of some anxieties, as well. And before long the two of them were bawling like babies.
After a few minutes of this, a tall, brown suited man, with a grey mustache and darker brown fedora on his head came up beside them. “Ahem!” he sounded, to gain their attention.
“Oh, Martina…” Gloria pulled back, swiping away tears. “This is Lieutenant Dunbar. He’s been with me since the other two left, a while ago.”
Not finding any words, Marti simply took the hand offered, then wiped her eyes on the sleeves of the loose fitting gown.
“I understand you’ve had quite the night, Martina?” He made it sound like a question, and then didn’t allow her the opportunity to answer. “We have officers on the scene. So far they have located the knife. No sign of the perpetrator, however. We’re canvasing the area now. Do you have anything to add to what Gloria here has already told the officers?”