Raven's Peak: Cold Hard Bitch

by Cole Savage

  “You okay, Slack?”

  “Better now, I suppose, but no more stories, T.D.”

  “Anyway,” said Kyle, “I get tired of watching this goober with his lighter, so I walk in the mess hall where some chowder head cop, who’s bored out of his fucking mind, is drawing his Glock repeatedly— practicing for the day he gets to shoot a twelve-year-old wielding a paintball gun, because the cop is tired of watching the metal rust in Morgantown.”

  “I’m having a hard time with the visual of you sitting at a Firehouse all day telling stories.”

  “You’re lucky. Most of my stories are about sex and misogyny, conveyed in a sort of clubroom smuttiness, spoken with a yokel’s contempt for outsiders and Yankees, and, on occasion, told with the distinct flare of a small-minded bigot.”

  “Your best friend is an African American, Kyle.”

  “Hey, don’t kill the messenger. Most of my stories, and jokes, came from the horse’s mouth— that being Cameron.” Nicki grinned and sighed. “You know, Nicki, it’s been a rewarding ten years. Working at the firehouse paid my bills, my education, and paid Karen’s house off. But I’m kidding about Fireman Bob. I love those guys and writing at the firehouse was just a way to kill downtime between calls…All the red assing, well, that’s just part of the culture there.”

  “I have to say, it is strange listening to you tell the story without your old accent. Going to college was extremely beneficial for you— and though the story was silly, your vocabulary is excellent.” Kyle looked at Hooch, then Slack Jaw.

  “And that coming from a bottle blonde, boys.”

  “Excuse me, bush pigs, did you forget I teach English?”

  “I’m sorry, you’re Highness— didn’t mean to step on your crown.”

  “Anyway, I’m serious. Someone has to stay awake.” Nicki looked at Kyle while he turned the lights off, and she thought. He’ll be craving another adventure before his new scars start to fade.

  CHAPTER 36

  Thirty-two days passed since Slack Jaw was injured at The Lion’s Den, and Nicki and Kyle had already moved the boys to Morgantown, with no further objection from Tyler and Cole. Nicki stayed in Franklin to watch after Karen and attend doctors’ appointments. She suffered frequent headaches that she managed with high doses of Excedrin. While in Morgantown, they enrolled Tyler in Junior high and Cole in elementary; Kyle was in the middle of football camp, the fire department a distant memory.

  Nicki promised to come up on weekends, and agreed to get a second opinion from a certified oncologist at Chestnut Ridge Hospital on the campus of the University. Kyle had practice that afternoon, but decided to take time off for her appointment, so at three, he showed up at the doctor’s and Nicki was already inside conducting a CT scan.

  Kyle walked into the waiting room wearing Khakis, a blue and gold WVU polo shirt with his name on it, and checked in with the receptionist to verify that Nicki was inside. He sat in one of the over-stuffed brown leather chairs in the Zen-inspired waiting room. He ignored the magazine rack, opened his playbook and made notes as he leafed through the pages. He paused to look around and couldn’t help noticing a middle-aged couple sitting across from him, their faces buried in a magazine. The woman had a bald head. In his zeal to avoid eye contact with the couple, he looked up at the light taupe colored coffered ceiling, that complemented the dark tan walls. Under his feet, splashing the hardwood floor with color, a brown modern area rug with aqua and tan circles. Dominated the space. He smiled at the heavyset, young receptionist with brown hair in a pony-tail, then noticed the couple across from him looking him in the eyes.

  “Hi, Coach Tillman— we’re big fans,” said a heavy balding man in his thirties. Looking at the couple, feeling the effects of anxiety, Kyle’s legs undulated.

  “Never a bad moment to run into a fan—and you are?”

  “I’m Gary Donovan, and this lovely lady is my wife, Angela… If you wouldn’t mind.” He said handing Kyle a copy of WVU-Magazine.

  “I would be honored.” Kyle signed the magazine and reached in his trouser pocket for his wallet.

  “Here’s two tickets for our season opener against Texas Tech on the fifty-yard line.”

  Gary shook Kyle’s hand, and Angela started to cry. Kyle shifted his gaze to Nicki as she came through the door that separated the reception area from the waiting room. He looked back at the couple.

  “It was my pleasure. I hope you enjoy the game— and good luck.”

  At four-thirty-three, Nicki sat in the waiting room next to Kyle, wearing black tight denim jeans, light brown cowboy boots, a white corset low on her bust with an open blue denim vest; hair in loose waves. She exchanged a hug with Kyle, and he could see that she’d been crying. Eager to comfort her, he apprised Nicki of the boy’s progress at school, and Nicki told him that they could leave, that her scan was done. It would be a few days before the doctor would have the results of the CT scan. Crestfallen with the news, Kyle stood and walked to the receptionist.

  “Nurse, could you get Doctor Acance for me.”

  “Do you have an appointment with the doctor, sir?”

  “No. Would you tell him Kyle Tillman is here?”

  “Are you Coach Tillman?” she said, clearly star-struck.

  “I am, and it’s urgent. I need to talk to him about my wife.”

  “I’ll be happy to fetch the Doctor, Coach Tillman” The heavyset nurse wearing a short dress covered with a white lab coat, retreated to one of the examination rooms down the hallway, while Kyle leaned on the semi-circular counter looking back at Nicki.

  “What are you doing?” she said quietly.

  “I’m not waiting a week to find out what he probably already knows.” Kyle said loudly with no effort to hide his chagrin. His deep voice echoed in the waiting room, and lucky for him, the couple had left.

  “Kyle, these doctors don’t read the scans, they send them out to specialists.”

  “Maybe he can speed up the process.”

  The receptionists came back and asked them to follow her. Kyle took Nicki by the hand and escorted her through the waiting room door, down a long sterile hallway with pictures of animals on the walls, back to the CT Room. Nicki seemed unnerved at Kyle’s aggressive demeanor and bellicose treatment of the receptionists. The nurse opened the door to the CT room and held it open, allowing Kyle and Nicki to walk in. The room had cream colored walls, minimal furniture, and a couple of blue upholstered armless chairs. In the middle of the room sat a monstrous machine that looked like a giant white donut with a sterile bed running through the center of the donut, draped in paper.

  Doctor Acance was sitting in a chair reading images. He was a short oriental wearing black rimmed glasses, a lab coat on top of a blue dress shirt complimented with a yellow tie. He hesitated to look up when Kyle and Nicki walked in. He looked up, pulled his glasses down to his chest, stood up smiling and reached with his right hand. “Kyle, it’s been a while— good to see you.”

  “Hey, Brad… Good to see you, too— wish we were here under better circumstances.”

  “I didn’t know this beautiful lady was your wife. As a matter of fact, I didn’t know you were married.”

  “It’s complicated, Brad. Please meet my wife, Nicki.”

  “We’ve had the pleasure.” Doctor Acance shook Kyle’s hand briskly and said,

  “How’s the team looking?”

  “Brad, please excuse my directness, but we’re standing barefoot on glass.”

  “I’m sorry, Kyle. Excuse my treatise. I have this compulsion for repartee. Sometimes I forget I’m dealing with life and death diagnosis. Subconsciously, I had to put up a wall when I entered the profession.” Kyle seemed agitated, Nicki was biting her nails.

  “I always believed that ministering to others would somehow heal my woefulness, but I’ve found that over the years that it has only deepened my pain. I apologize to the two of you,”

  The doctor paused and sat on the edge of the scanner.

  “Nicki, I’m
assuming you came here for a second opinion, as stated in your patient assessment application.” Doctor Acance said, bouncing a pen off his lips, looking at the images.

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “I can probably concur with your first doctor’s opinion, which you said you don’t have a copy of.”

  “My doctor doesn’t have access to this type of equipment, Doctor. Kyle told me that the first opinion was inconsequential, the only thing that mattered is what you said.”

  “Well, I had my radiologists review your scan when Cindy told me it was you, and he confirmed my findings.”

  “What are your findings, Brad?”

  “Kyle, I learned a while ago before asserting a prognosis for any patient, be objective, never subjective. Telling a man or a woman that he’ll win the treasure of life, but later discover that he’ll lose, will harm him more than telling him that he may lose, then ultimately win. Phenomena might well elicit apprehension. Nonetheless, there is, strictly speaking, no definite indication, yet; neither is there any contradiction.”

  “English, Brad?”

  “Her tumor is operable.” Nicki had to sit down when she heard the news.

  “Which means what, Doctor?” Kyle asked.

  “The result of your CT scan, or computerized tomography, indicates that you have a tumor called a sphenoid Meningioma.” Kyle went to comfort Nicki, who put her hands on her face and started to cry. Looking at Nicki, the doctor seemed perplexed.

  “Nicki, did your doctor tell you it was treatable?” The doctor said pulling his glasses down to his nose. “Nicki, what did your doctor tell you?” Nicki was sniveling now.

  “He told me that I have less than a year to live, Doctor.” The doctor shook his head seeming to understand their anxiety now.

  “Nicki, listen to me. Your tumor is benign. It is non-cancerous. Well, I’m relatively sure, but I’ll be certain when we do the biopsy. It’s situated right behind your eyes and it is causing your vision impairment and frequent headaches. It will continue to grow, increasing the pressure in your cranium, causing your headaches to get worse if you don’t treat it.”

  “Are you telling us, Brad, that Nicki can recover fully from this?”

  “Kyle, the good news is, besides the obvious fact that it is non-cancerous, is that it is operable. If it continues to go untreated this type of tumor can eventually lead to visual loss and abnormalities of cranial nerves 111,1V, V1 and 2, and it can cause you to lose sensation in your face, or, in other words, facial numbness.”

  “You said, operable,” Kyle said.

  “In terms of head surgery, it is a relatively simple procedure. We can schedule surgery within two weeks.The tumor is in a position not to injure the optic nerve during operation, and total microsurgical removal of the tumor, in most instances, is curable.”

  Nicki fell to her knees crying. Kyle crouched down with her and held her in a tight embrace as she discharged tears of joy.

  “I’m sorry, Kyle, I thought your first opinion only confirmed what I saw. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Kyle was still holding Nicki, getting glassy eyed, his joy more than he could bare. “You didn’t scare us, Brad, you saved our lives… Thank you.”

  “I’ll leave you two alone for a moment,” Doctor Acance said, and slid out the door, allowing them time to savor the moment. Kyle talked, and Nicki cried. Nicki sat back on the chair, and Kyle crouched in front of her holding her hands.

  “Kyle, I finally gave in today, admitting that I couldn’t do this alone… That’s defeat, right?”

  “Nicki, look at me. I’ve been fighting ten years to get you back and I haven’t given up yet. I’m glad you needed me to do this with you because there is nowhere else I’d rather be, and there’s certainly no shame in calling backup. Remember there’s no I in team.”

  “Kyle, when I thought I was going to the die, my spirit was altered, my passion changed. I felt hopeless coming here today…It was my madness that kept me going.”

  “Whatever it is that made you go on, is what makes you unique and sacred to me. You lost all hope when I hadn’t. You lost your passion for living but I had enough passion for both of us. And if your spirit was altered, then I guess I’m blind because as long as I can breathe your spirit is all I see. And if madness is all you had left, it is my madness that drove me, so maybe, I too have become hopeless.”

  A few minutes later Brad came back with an enormous smile on his face.

  “Nicki , I know you’re overwhelmed right now, but don’t be impatient, healing takes time. Your recovery may take as long as a year. You won’t have any hair, well, not much. You will continue to suffer pain, and your attention span may be shorter. Nerves take a long time to regrow, and as they heal and mature, your head will be hyper-sensitive.”

  PROLOGUE

  The following day, delighted with the news of her prognosis, wearing black Yoga pants and a grey WVU football sweatshirt that Kyle had given her, Nicki said goodbye to Kyle in the parking lot and attempted to take Karen’s van back to Franklin, but the van wouldn’t start, so Kyle gave her his Jeep to drive back to Karen’s house, while Kyle stayed back to fix the van. Halfway to Franklin, in the town of Hambleton, off highway 72, Nicki realized that Kyle hadn’t topped off the fuel tank, so she stopped at an All-Star fuel station to gas up. It was a full-service station, so Nicki opened the window for a grinning, long-haired, jaunty, skinny attendant, wearing dark stained, blue striped cover-all’s.

  “How you doin’, Darlin’”, he said opening her door.

  “I’m good, Dwayne,” she said looking at his coveralls, his name stitched in red.

  “Seen better days. Could use some rain,” he said, his hands on the door looking at the sky.

  “Couldn’t agree more, but we might have better luck if we pray for rain together, the forecast looks gloomy with no chance for rain.”

  “Yes, Ma’am, wouldn’t hurt none to pray for a spell”

  “Can you check the oil, please, Dwayne?” Nicki said stepping out of the Jeep, then walked inside for chips and a Coke.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, turning to look at Nicki’s back-side as she shimmied into the convenience store.

  Five minutes later, Nicki returned with a fountain drink and a bag of chips.

  “That’ll be thirty-six for the fuel, Darlin’,” he said, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “Oil’s good, and I put a half gallon of washer fluid in the reservoir. Might wanna have that fan belt looked at, seems cracked, worn, and loose like my wretched wife Sylvia,” he said, laughing in a sandpaper voice and bleak disposition, as Nicki reached into the Jeep, where she put the drink in a cup holder and dug through her purse for cash, and judging by the look on Dwayne’s face, he was somewhere between bliss and euphoria, watching Nicki hunched over in her tight Yoga’s. She stood and turned, catching him by surprise. He stuttered for a moment, clearly taken aback by Nicki’s physique, while Nicki pulled her hair behind her ears. Dwayne handed Nicki a folded letter and a credit card that he found behind the door that covers the gas cap, and Nicki handed him two twenties. After taking the card and letter from his hand, she leaned against the Jeep while Dwayne left to make change. She looked at the credit card, then flipped the legal-size envelope over and read the word Nicki on the front. Dwayne returned and handed Nicki four one-dollar bills.

  “Thank you, you were most gracious.”

  “No, Ma’am, thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For the purchase, of-course, Darlin’, and for makin’ it rain, Ma’am. For makin’ it rain on such a God-forsaken day.”

  Nicki seemed confused, her lips pursed, and a moment later, it hit her. She laughed, pointed at him and said, “thank you, Dwayne, you just made my day.”

  She tapped the envelope on her chin and slid into the Jeep. She drove away, still in the vicinity of the gas pumps and pulled next to the gas station, just off the concrete, onto the gravel where she parked and opened the envelope. Her heart was throttling as she unf
olded two white papers and five pink pages with a Hello Kitty emblem in the middle. She read, Hey, Sunshine, and she smirked. She took a deep breath and read.

  Sorry about using two different stationaries’. I started this a while ago, and the pink paper was all I could find at Neville’s house. Neville is my offensive coordinator and he has three daughters, which explains the pink paper.

  There’s a Gala at the University on Friday, two weeks before your surgery. Consider this an official invite. I hope you can honor me with your presence.

  Nicki, I was so happy about the doctor’s prognosis I couldn’t sleep last night because it gave me hope. I couldn’t be happier for you and the boys.

  I figured out from our last conversation that you might be gone for a while, seeing that Karen’s in the hospital, so I wanted to say a proper goodbye. I wish Momma the best, and I really mean that. I know how much she means to you.

  I looked over Karen’s van and I can’t seem to find anything wrong with it, other than it’s too old, with too many miles, and I was worried it wouldn’t get you home (sorry, I pulled the coil wires). Keep the Jeep for a spell, there’s a AAA card in the glove box in case of a breakdown or a flat; the insurance card is also in there, and I sent you a new phone, one that has service in Franklin.

  Nicki, it’s hard to say all the things I wanted to say in the presence of the beautiful woman that I’m crazy about because the words get lodged in my throat and silence paralyzes my tongue, so I skipped practice yesterday and after a meeting at Neville’s house, I went to the Monongahela to finish this, knowing you were leaving this morning. I hope you and the boys had a great time at the park yesterday, and don’t worry they’ll be in good hands while you’re sorting things out in Franklin.