Red Man

by catt dahman

  “Let me borrow those rose-colored glasses of yours.”

  “I’ll check on you tomorrow or so.” They both knew she didn’t want to come and visit; they didn’t see this much of one another during normal times.

  “Oh, the paramedic who rode with you came by to check on you a few times. That was pretty nice, huh?”

  “He did?”

  “Yep. He said the oddest thing. He said he owes you a Ranger’s game, and he said to be sure I told you that. Does that make sense?”

  Sam shrugged, “I dunno. Maybe. Hey, when I was hit, I thought I was a goner, and I was thinking of lying in the place of my death, and I felt like. Ummm, I was moved or appeared in that place I was. I’m guessing here…was shot or cut up in an accident, but stomach was a bloody mess and it hurt. But then I was back on the grass in the rain, and you looked at me funny.”

  “I’m sure you imagined a lot with the pain and shock. It was an illusion.”

  “I didn’t say I saw anything. I said I was there. You said illusion. Did you see something?”

  Charlie shrugged, “I was scared, and I imagined this blue light enveloped you and you vanished. But, of course, that wasn’t real.”

  “We both imagined the same thing, so to speak?” Sam asked, “Impossible Charlene. You know it’s impossible.”

  “So it was a blue fire that transported you to the place and time of your death,” said Charlie as she sighed, and then told him to rest. “Sleep. You will be less delusional with rest.”

  Charlie waved goodbye and left.

  Sam looked at all the flowers and plants that lined the windowsill and filled the tables. Cards were taped to the walls and tacked onto a bulletin board. There were a lot, but less than he would have thought if he had been here for weeks. He thought maybe he wasn’t very well liked.

  For a while he just thought of everything, trying to ignore the pain; the morphine pump helped. He had to have imagined the ballgame. It was a shock- induced hallucination. It was nothing. The paramedic had meant nothing. The beer was imaginary. He refused to believe because Charlie was right.

  He refused until the paramedic, Kenny Compton, came to see Sam that evening.

  Sam was already in a foul mood because of the nurse who changed his bandages and tortured his flesh, stretching his arm and leg. Because of her, he felt animosity towards all attractive red heads; her cheerful voice grated on his nerves, and her perfume was rancid to his nose. Her bright red hair was a frizzy flame that announced her as Queen of Pain. When he saw her, he wanted to bury his head under the covers and hide until she gave up and went away.

  Sam had dreaded seeing the man, but Kenny Compton knocked, came in, and introduced himself to Sam. They made small talk. Rehab was going to be a bitch. The nurse was a bitch. Sam was a lucky son of a bitch.

  “Most people don’t survive that kind of thing.”

  Sam thanked him, “I appreciate all you did for me.”

  “You were lucky. But that’s my job. Do you remember much of that night?” Kenny asked. “I know you were out of it, but….”

  Sam was about to deny any memories and claim amnesia. No memory was the ticket, but curiosity drove Sam to nod and say, “I remember parts. I remember the part you came here to ask me about. Something strange happened when I was in the ambulance with you.” He could have lied and should have to avoid the discussion they were about to have. He was all settled into disbelieving anyway; he was an expert at lying in court.

  But if he didn’t admit something, then Kenny Compton would talk, and Sam knew that not knowing was far worse than being delusional and crazy.

  “The scary thing is that at one point I could have sworn you vanished.” Kenny laughed a little to cover his discomfort. He was defensive; this was about to be crazy-talk. “I really thought you did anyway.”

  “Yes. I think I did, too.”

  “You just…uh…went away,” Kenny Compton said softly, “I didn’t imagine it, did I?”

  “Yes, I guess I did just…go away.” He used the confusing terminology since they didn’t have any other words for it. “What did you…ummm…see? I mean when I went away?”

  Kenny sighed with palpable relief. His eyes betrayed that he was relieved not to be called insane for saying all this. “It makes no sense, and I’ve been over it a thousand times in my head. Your vitals were okay, but you were in terrible pain. You began talking about the Rangers. Then, there was this blue flame all around you, and it scared me a little. I’ve never seen that before.”

  “Oh. That’s odd.”

  “It was like a cocoon or something. I thought it had to be from the lightning, but how could that be? It doesn’t stay and come out again. It was blue- fire-halo-cocoon stuff.”

  Blue-fire-halo-cocoon. Right.

  Sam frowned, annoyed.

  “Then you vanished. No, that isn’t right. You faded. That’s how it was. You faded and became…not there.”

  “Faded?”

  “Oh, hell, I know how it sounds. It’s impossible. I wasn’t gonna come here, but I had to.” Kenny reached for his cigarettes and remembered where he was. He let his hand drop, and he scratched at the arm of the chair.

  Sam nodded, “I believe you. It happened, but I can’t explain it. I don’t know why or how.”

  “It was for about twenty seconds or there close. You were gone, and I stared at that spot, and in a few seconds, you were there again. You faded right back in. There was the same blue light when you came back. And how I knew it was real was I had to reattach your heart monitor and start the IV again.”

  “I remember that part, I think.”

  “You were talking about a ballgame. I thought at first it was the pain, it was an old game, and you had just…ummm…gone away. I didn’t know what to think. But I believed you.”

  “You did?”

  “It’s like if you see little green men get out of a spaceship and then you see Big Foot crawl out of the same spaceship, you don’t question it. I mean you believe it. It was like that. After you came back and I had to redo your IV, I believed you about the ballgame.”

  The philosophy might not be eloquent, but the meaning was clear.

  Sam told the man about how he had seemed to bump into the man at the concession stand, about watching the ball game, then thinking about the accident, and coming back and how he had returned and spit out the beer.

  “I saw and smelled the beer, and that’s when I knew it was real. I mean you spit beer. That was impossible. I knew it was all something I couldn’t explain but was real. I watched the game the next day, and it was all exactly like you said. Everything. The score and the plays.”

  “Strange, huh?”

  “It was kind of cool, but it was scary, too. And then, in the sixth, I lost it. At one point the camera panned the crown, showing the fans, and I saw you.”

  I saw you.

  “What? How?”

  “I don’t know. But it was you, standing there, and you had on what you wore in the ambulance, but you didn’t have a burn, and you were drinking a beer. It was a Budweiser cup.”

  I saw you.

  “Yes, it was.” Sam remembered the cup he had; it had the logo on it.

  “And there was something else, when the camera pulled back, I saw it. You were surrounded by it.”

  “What?” Sam shivered. “What was it?”

  “The blue-halo-fire-cocoon thing.”

  Part 1

  Chapter 3

  Sam poured a glass of bourbon for himself and for his law partner and best friend, Mark Banner, as they relaxed in Sam’s den. He leaned back in the recliner and muted the television, “I know you are wondering about something, Mark. What’s on your mind?”

  “I’m not sure. You have always been the obnoxious, tough attorney. You’ve made people cry on the stand that I didn’t think had tear ducts. But lately, you’ve been downright mellow.”

  “Some would say that’s good, that I’m maturing. So I’m less of a boorish ass. I’m less sarcasti
c and rude. Isn’t that okay?”

  “It’s fine, but it’s not you. The arm bothering you?” Mark asked.

  Sam held his arm up, “I have to keep stuff on it, or the skin gets tight, but it’s healing. It wasn’t near as bad as they thought at first. They can’t believe I didn’t need grafts, so I was pretty fortunate to bypass that. It looked bad.”

  “It looked terrible. When I saw it, it was raw and blistered. There was char. I mean I hate to bring it up, but it looked bad, Sam. I thought it would be months before it was okay and that it would take multiple surgeries,” Mark said, “and the leg?”

  “Doing well,” Sam said, “what’s on your mind? Really?”

  “Just wondering about the changes I’ve seen in you.”

  “I had some odd experiences that have made me distracted in the courtroom. Half the time, I am thinking of other things and don’t recall details of the case we have. I can’t be a hard core bastard and rip people apart on the stand when I can hardly keep the facts straight in my head.”

  “You’re saying the accident has been bothering you? Like a post traumatic stress thing?”

  “No,” Sam huffed, waving that idea way, “it’s what the accident caused. I have a new perspective that is affecting me.”

  “Can you explain more?”

  “I want to tell you the strangest story. It’s one you won’t believe at first, but hear me out,” Sam began with the part about mowing the lawn and explained about the ambulance, and then the baseball game, and finished with the visit from the paramedic, Kenny Compton.

  “He didn’t tell anyone else?” Mark asked, examining each detail of the story meticulously. “He just told you?” Mark did as he always did; he asked questions because sometimes the person telling the story believed he was giving out the facts, and sometimes he really was.

  “Here’s the thing. He told Charlie. He came back to see me and wanted to talk again about the whole thing, and he spilled it all to her when I was asleep, so I had to tell her everything. I could have said he was a nut and made the whole thing up, but she had already told him to leave and never come back, and had I not explained it to her, she might have caused a problem at the hospital, raising hell about him to his superiors or something. You know how she is.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Pretty much that the man is a menace that she tossed out and that I need a psychiatrist or let’s see…a screenwriter to write the movie. She said Compton and I could collaborate, and we could end up at the sci-fi convention or something. You know how she rambles about things.”

  Mark chuckled, “I can imagine.”

  “I saw in her eyes; it scared her to death because she believed it all. She saw the same thing.” Sam explained what had happened for just a split second as he lay on the grass. “She’s smart enough to tie things together and understand a few things though she hasn’t gotten the big picture yet.”

  “I can judge when someone is lying. It’s our business, Sam. I know for a fact that you’re not lying to me. You believe this is true.”

  “So If I am telling the truth, am I crazy?”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy either. But I have two questions. One, can you do it again, at will?”

  “You’re asking if I have done it again.” Sam tapped his temple, “I know what you’re asking. And yes, I have done it again, and I can do it.”

  Mark grinned, “Assuming you can, then, second, how could this be used to our benefit? Because if you can do it, then you bet I want in.”

  “I figured you would. I’ve thought of dozens of ways this could be of benefit.” Sam had spent hours and hours cautiously analyzing and experimenting with this.

  “Let’s say you…and we’ll say what the Compton fellow said…faded and watched a horse race. You could see the winner and the odds and come back, and then we could bet on the horse to win. We could make a fortune, right? We could bet every race and the exacta.” Mark laughed; he didn’t believe, but he was playing with the idea. He was still on the side that said it was impossible.

  “I’ve thought about that,” Sam said, smiling.

  “So, you should try it now.”

  “You want to see if I can do it and how it looks when…or I mean…how it looks if I can fade.”

  Mark shrugged, “Hey, I’m a lawyer through to my core. Show me the proof, and then let me run with it.”

  Sam stared at Mark a second and then closed his eyes. He had to really concentrate and want to be somewhere else. He thought of the ball game that was playing tomorrow, the Tigers and the Indians. He’d like to be there in Cleveland. He imagined the sounds of the Jacob’s Field, the smell of peanuts and popcorn and beer, and he could feel the bench beneath his butt. With his mind, he pushed….

  Mark blinked. His vision was hazy, or maybe the light had dimmed, but it was as if he could see the green, corduroy fabric of the recliner through Sam’s body. Blinking harder, Mark tried to focus and was reminded of glimmering sheets of silver rising from concrete or pavement in deep August.

  A blue light glowed so that Mark was able to see he was alone. “Sam?” The room was dark except for the lamp in the corner. In Sam’s recliner, a blaze burned with blue incandescence. There was no heat with the light, and Mark felt chilled, but he watched as a ghostly image began to appear, a black and white photo that took on colors and developed before his eyes.

  There was Sam, smiling, sitting in the recliner.

  “You…you did it.” Mark knew his jaw was hanging open. “Oh, my God, Sam….”

  “Did you doubt me? I said I could. You should see your face. This is too damned funny.”

  Mark refilled their glasses.

  “You forgot the water,” Sam pointed out.

  Mark frowned, “I didn’t forget it.” His hands shook a little.

  Sam took a sip and grinned widely.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Mark asked. He thought of an attorney he knew that always had excellent closing arguments; the man always knew when he had the case won and would affix the opposing side with the same shit-eating grin as Sam had on his face right now.

  “Top of the eighth and Tigers had the bases loaded. Prince Fielder was on first, Alex Avila was on second, and Austin Jackson was on third. Miguel Cabrera was batting. Son of a bitch hit a grand slam. Brett Myers struck out the rest. The Indians got one run.”

  “What was the final score?”

  “5-1 Detroit.”

  “And it hasn’t happened yet. I’m gonna bet every penny I have on that game. This is just the beginning. We can’t tell a soul.” Mark said with his voice full of awe and fear, as if he were in a church. “Sam, you can do it.”

  “Yup. I know I can. Isn’t it amazing?”

  “Amazing hardly covers it.”

  “We won’t tell Charlie.”

  “Of course, we won’t. I’m sorry the paramedic knows. He’s a loose end that I don’t like having. If people found out, well, they would stop us. They would want to study you and find out how you do it. You don’t wanna be a lab rat, and we don’t wanna stop, right?”

  “I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to be studied either. Mark, we could have all the money in the world. I mean we can make a ton with betting.”

  Mark’s brain was already clicking; the wheels were turning.

  That was how it all began.

  Part 1

  Chapter 5

  During the next months, they were busy, flying all over the United States, more than they were in the courtrooms. They bet on the long shots in Los Angeles at Santa Anita Park, in Los Vegas on ballgames and fights, and in Atlantic City on the World Series. They played the stock market. Mark won big betting on technical fouls in a Celtics/Lakers game, and Sam won a lot at a Mavericks’ game that the Mavs won 101-89.

  It was common practice for them to meet in Sam’s den as they had the first time, and Sam would take trips; he thought it safest to do it with a friend close in case anything went wrong. This time when Sam and
Mark sat in Sam’s den, Sam sensed something was wrong, and he asked what it was, “You just banked three million in Switzerland. That isn’t a happy thing for you?”

  “Except for Stephanie.”

  “Ah,” Sam nodded; she was Mark’s wife, a beautiful woman who was possessive, insecure, and insanely jealous for good reasons because of Mark’s track record. “Did you get caught again?”

  “Close. She suspects that there is someone else but doesn’t know Micki’s name yet.”

  “She’s gonna be all over you like white on rice.”

  “Yep. She’s not about to give up her lifestyle. And the money I’m bringing in now really makes her happy. I think she’s got a detective looking into my business.”

  “Divorce her. Take your half and what you have hidden.” He planned to cut Charlie loose in the next few weeks. They couldn’t give up their lovers; it was unthinkable.

  “Stephanie is the greediest little slut on earth, and she’ll strip me clean. We’ve been trying to have more kids for years, and every month she whines and cries about getting her period and says she can’t conceive, so it must be my fault. You know how many tests I have had?”

  “I know. I know.”

  “Do you know what I found? Hidden? Damned birth control pills. I hate manipulative women, and she’s been manipulating me all this time. If I leave her, she’ll take the two kids I do have.”

  “If she has a detective, then you may be up a creek.”

  “I can have her disappear,” Mark whispered.

  Sam’s mouth went dry. “Isn’t that a little extreme?” He had always thought Mark walked a little on the dark side but ignored that part because it was better not to know. It dawned on him that Mark could be downright dangerous.

  “Look at it this way, if I have a detective on my ass, then he’s gonna turn up far more than Micki. He’s gonna find my money and how much I have. If he has sense, he’s going to wonder how I’m making that kind of money. We may be lawyers, but we sure as hell ain’t that great.”