Voodoo Daddy (A Virgil Jones Mystery)

by Thomas L. Scott

  She had her hand on my wrist, my pulse beat steady under the tips of her fingers. She held up a finger in a ‘wait a minutes’ gesture and then said, “Sorry, I was counting. What was that you just asked me?”

  “Never mind,” I said. But then I asked her something else. “I keep hearing this muffled little happy birthday tune. Is anyone else hearing it, or is it just me?”

  The nurse laughed. “That’s from the maternity ward. It’s one floor below us. Every time a baby is born the new father gets to push a button behind the nurse’s station and it plays the first few notes of happy birthday over the loudspeaker on that floor. You can hear it on this floor because they’re right below us.” She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around my arm just above the elbow and pumped the bulb. I watched the needle on the indicator bounce back and forth and I waited until she was done before I spoke again.

  “I was wondering. Is there any way that I could move one floor up?”

  “What?” the nurse asked. Why would you want to do that? That’s the cancer ward.”

  “I know,” I said. She stared at me, a look of confusion on her face, then walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next morning when I woke, the sun sliced through the partially open blinds and fell across the cast on my leg and gave it a striped look like that of a zebra. I wiggled my toes a little and when I did, the dull throb in my leg led me from the clutches of sleep like a demented tour guide with a cruel agenda. My mouth tasted like at some point in the night I’d sworn off hospital food and eaten my pillow instead. And I had to pee.

  I thought about pressing the call button and having the nurse help me up and into the bathroom, then decided against it. I wanted to do it myself. By the time I got my crutches under myself, got up, took care of business and made it back to the bed twenty minutes had passed, but I had done it. I brought a damp wash cloth back from the bathroom and sat down and wiped the sweat from my forehead. A few minutes later, while I was watching the morning news a nurse’s assistant who I had not yet seen came into the room pushing a small cart ahead of her ample body. I estimated her weight at somewhere around three hundred pounds. Maybe more. Her bright pink lipstick and bright pink fingernails were a perfect match to the pink uniform stretched tight across her body. When she walked the fabric looked like it was being strained to the breaking point and I thought if one of the buttons on the front of her blouse let go I might need a bullet proof vest for protection. Her dark kinky hair was pulled back in tight cornrows that pulled the skin on her forehead so taught it made her look like the top half of her head was younger than the bottom.

  The wheels on the cart made a wobbling noise that reminded me of the sound my air conditioner made last summer just before the compressor failed. It was not until she was almost next to the bed that I realized the noise wasn’t coming from the cart, but from the nurse’s breathing. She was wheezing from the effort, whether from pushing the cart or moving her own weight around. Maybe both.

  I knew what was coming and even though I was starting to notice my own stink, I did what any sane person in my situation would do. I closed my eyes and feigned sleep, hoping she would go away.

  “Good morning. My name is Miss Sally. What’s yours?”

  I did not answer and instead I pulled the blanket up over myself and turned away. Miss Sally was not impressed.

  “Oh, child, you’re gonna have to do better than that,” she said. “Come on, now, I’m here to hep ya. We’re gonna get you cleaned up. Won’t take but a minute or two. Lord, I swear I could smell you before I could see you. That’s not an insult, you understand, I just tells it like I smells it. What’d you say your name was, again.”

  I opened my eyes a little bit, squinted at her. “I didn’t.”

  “I see. Well, you know, I can see right here on your chart your name is Virgil. I was just trying to be polite.” She pulled the sheets off of me and set them on the chair next to the bed. “Now, untie your nighty there and let’s get started. You don’t have to be proud or ashamed, either. I done seen ‘em all, the big ones and the puny ones. I expect yours will be somewhere betwixt em.”

  “Look,” I said, “I think I can clean myself up, okay? The doctor said I’d probably be going home today anyway, so thanks just the same.”

  The nurse laughed, one hand resting on the cart, the other on her chest. “Oh lord, if I only had a nickel. You know how many times I heard that one? It’s always this and that, or some such thing. Come on now, I got me a schedule just like everyone else around here and you’re my last one. Don’t want to make Miss Sally late for quitin’ time, now do you?”

  “No, I don’t suppose I do,” I said. I began to untie my hospital gown, thinking if there were a God, he’d do something about this. Then, as if I had a direct line to the heavens, the door opened and another nurse stuck her head in.

  “Miss Sally? Mr. Jenkins down in six-oh-two missed the bed pan again. We need your help to lift him up so we can get the sheets.”

  “Be right there,” she said over her shoulder. Then to me, she said, “That poor Mr. Jenkins. Well, you’re off the hook this time, handsome. Moving Mr. Jenkins around can take some time, and I’ll be off by then. Hope you do get out today, but iffen you don’t, someone from the next shift will be in to clean you up.”

  “Thanks,” I said. When she was almost to the door, I said, “Miss Sally?”

  “Yes, child?”

  “Everyone calls me Jonesy.”

  She smiled without answering and wheezed her way out of the room, her breathing like that of a locomotive’s steam whistle disappearing down the tracks. There is a God after all, I thought.

  But then, proving God had a sense of humor, she was back five minutes later. “You’re in luck, Sugar. Morning shift change is happening right now. They didn’t need me down there to help with Mr. Jenkins after all. Now, where were we?”

  * * *

  Sandy walked in just as the nurse was finishing my sponge bath. The nurse looked her up and down one time with approval and said, “Hi. My name’s Miss Sally. What’s yours?”

  Sandy smiled at the nurse. “I’m Sandy. Nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, it’s my pleasure, child. My pleasure.” She leaned in close to Sandy and said, “That’s quite a fella you got there. Wouldn’t let him get away, I were you.”

  They both turned and looked at me. “I don’t intend to,” Sandy said.

  When the nurse left the room, Sandy walked over to my bed and gave me a kiss. “Did I miss anything good?”

  I ignored her question, and said, “If you love me, you’ll find the doctor and get me the fuck out of here.”

  * * *

  Sandy went to check with the nurse’s station as to when the doctor might stop by to release me and when she came back into the room, she told me the nurse said the doctor was going to be delayed. “He got called into an emergency surgery.”

  “Ah man,” I said. “Any idea how long?”

  Sandy shook her head. “They didn’t know. Listen, I talked to your dad this morning. I’m going to go pick him up and we’re going to get your truck from the station and get it back to your house. I’ll be back to take you home after I drop him off. That okay?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Grab my case notes off my desk will you?”

  “Virgil…...”

  “What? I’m just going to be sitting around. Might as well do the paperwork. By the way, how’d my truck get back to the station?”

  “Rosie drove it over there and put it in the lot.”

  “Oh, geez, you let Rosie drive my truck?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Have you ever seen his car?”

  “You worry to much, Jonesy. Hey, you’re going home today. Treat me right and maybe I’ll dress up in a little nurses uniform for you, make you forget all about the paperwork. You know, show you what a real sponge bath is like.” She winked at me. “See you in an hour or so, boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend. I liked
that.

  * * *

  Later that same afternoon after Sandy returned, the doctor came with a list of instructions for my release and the nurse who was with him made an appointment with me for a follow-up visit the next week at his office. After another hour and a half of preparations and paperwork, I was informed I was free to go.

  I took the mandatory ride in the wheel chair to the front entrance and waited with the orderly—an elderly gentleman who appeared to be in greater need of the wheelchair than I—while Sandy pulled her car around. When she pulled up, the orderly pushed me over to the passenger side, set the brakes on the chair then helped me up and into the vehicle. The traffic was moderate in the city and heavy out on the loop, but forty-five minutes later we were back at my place.

  Sandy turned on the lights and generally woke the place up while I settled onto the couch and tried to get comfortable. “What can I get you?” she asked.

  The time had gotten away from me and the ride from the hospital had taken its toll. “I’m getting behind on the pain. I could use a couple of pills.”

  She brought the medicine to me and I swallowed the pills with a glass of water, then Sandy slipped her hand into mine and said, “So, what’s next?”

  “Is that a big question, or a little one?” I said.

  “What do you think?” she said.

  “I think it’s a big one.”

  “You’d probably be right,” Sandy said. “If it were a little one, I say something like, ‘how about a pizza.’ And then you’d say, ‘sure, what do you like?’ And I’d say—”

  “Okay, I get it. The truth of it is, I don’t know what’s next. But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to know. I know where we’ve been, I know where we are, and I know what I want. You’re here…we’re here, together. That’s what matters to me right now.”

  Sandy pulled her feet up under her and laid her head on my shoulder. After a few minutes, she lifted her head and said, “You know, for a while, you’re going to need someone here to help you.”

  “Yeah, I was kind of thinking the same thing.”

  We sat there with that for a little while, then Sandy said, “you could ask Donatti.”

  “That won’t work. He’s married, remember? His wife won’t let him come over anymore.”

  “Well, what about Rosie?”

  “Naw, he’d just drink all my beer. Plus, he’s kind of a slob. I’ve got a certain standard I like to maintain around here.”

  “Hmm. Guess you’re out of luck, then,” Sandy said.

  “Yeah. I guess so. Too bad there isn’t someone, you know, that could sort of move in for a while and keep an eye on me. Help me around. Like that.”

  “Yeah, that is too bad,” Sandy said.

  “Just about anyone would do, really.”

  “You know, I’m pretty busy and everything,” Sandy said. “But if I moved some stuff around on my schedule, I bet I could do it. And look, I don’t want to seem too forward or anything like that, because I’m not really that kind of girl, but I went ahead and put a bag together thinking you might want me to stay for a few days or something.”

  “Put a bag together, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is it a big bag?”

  “Well, it’s big enough that I’ve got options.”

  “Gotta have options.”

  “Yeah, options are good.”

  I tried to look serious, but failed in the attempt. “Closet is pretty full. I guess I could give you a drawer, though.”

  “Really? A drawer? You mean I’d get my very own drawer?”

  “Well sure. That’s just the kind of guy I am.”

  Sandy grabbed my pants at the top by my waist and bunched them up in her fist a little. “I’ve got your drawers, mister.”

  And with that, I forgot all about my past, both the distant and the recent and for a while, even the pain in my leg. It all melted away against the warmth of a place where no one is judged, where the mind, body, spirit, and soul are all one and the same.

  * * *

  When I woke the next morning I was alone in bed, the throbbing of my leg in time with the beat of my heart. Sandy came in a few minutes later carrying a tray with coffee and juice, my robe open in front of her body, its edges barely covering the swell of her breasts.

  “How you feeling, cowboy?” she said. She set the tray down on the night table next to the bed and leaned over and kissed me good morning.

  I looked at her in my robe, the curve of her hips, the little space between the tops of her thighs when she stood with her legs together, the dangled jewel of her belly ring. I took her hand and guided it to my stomach, then gently pushed her further down. “This is how I’m feeling,” I said. “Since you asked, and all.”

  “You know,” Sandy said as she ran her finger tips up and down the length of my erection, “the doctor said you are supposed to take it easy for a while.”

  “Fuck the doctor,” I said.

  And then the morning was mostly gone too.

  * * *

  Later, after we had both gotten cleaned up and dressed for the day, we sat across from each other at the kitchen table, my leg propped up under a pillow on the chair next to me. It felt good to have it elevated for a while, but then it’d start to bark at me and I’d have to set it down on the floor. Then that would become uncomfortable too, so I’d prop it back up again. The back and forth was driving me nuts.

  “Wait till it starts itching,” Sandy said. “That’ll drive you mad.”

  “Your bedside manner is atrocious, you know that?”

  “Yeah, but my bed manners are perfect, aren’t they?”

  Couldn’t argue that, I thought.

  “I need to talk to you about something,” Sandy said.

  Uh-oh. I brought my leg back up on the chair and looked at her, waiting for her to go on.

  “Yesterday, when I went to your office to get the case notes you wanted I ran into Cora. We had an interesting conversation.”

  “Is this about us?”

  “Yeah, it is,” Sandy said. “I know we didn’t have a chance to talk about it—what she said to you a few days ago on the phone, but she laid it out pretty clear for me. We have to choose.”

  “Aw, geez, Sandy. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her.”

  She reached across the table and took my hand. “Let me finish, okay. It’s not all bad. You probably don’t know this, but about six years ago, and every year since, I’ve been trying to get on with the Indiana law Enforcement Academy over in Plainville.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah. And guess who greased the wheels for me.”

  “Who?”

  “The Governor.”

  “What? You asked the Governor to help you?”

  “Well, I sort of mentioned it in passing.”

  “Sandy, this is a pretty powerful guy. Are you sure you want to get in bed with him?”

  “You’re the only one I’m getting into bed with, Virgil.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “It’s not that deep.”

  Hmm. “So I take it there’s an opening at the Academy?”

  “Yep. Director of Training, Psychological Division. He says it’s mine if I want it.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Well, he said they’d have to keep the posting up, let others apply, all that business, but other than maintaining appearances, yeah, it’s mine. I just have to say the word.”

  “What kind of timeline are we talking about?”

  “The current director leaves in thirty days. They’d want me in time for that.”

  I took my leg from the chair and placed it back on the floor. Things were moving faster than I thought they would. Sandy and I had something though. Something strong. Still, could I ask her to leave her current position for something completely new and different just so we could be together as a couple? It didn’t seem fair. Would she ask that of me? Would I agree?

>   Then, as if she could read my mind, she said, “It’s just a job, Virgil. I know it might feel like things are moving pretty quick right now, but you and I both know that’s nobody’s business but our own. If I have to take this job so we can be together without the headache of hiding our relationship or dealing with someone else’s bullshit bureaucracy, then that’s what I think I should do. I won’t do it unless you say you want me to though. But I hope you do.”

  I nodded my head, and the words were out of my mouth almost before I realized I was speaking. “I do.”

  “Say that again, would you?”

  I smiled at her. “I do.”

  “I like the way that sounds. Big words though for a guy that only gives a girl one drawer.”

  “Yeah, well, about that,” I said. “I was kidding about the closet. It’s mostly empty you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. I looked.”

  “So there’s probably something I should tell you,” I said. “I knew you applied for the job.”

  “What? How?”

  “Well, I know quite a few people over at the Academy, and when they saw your paperwork come through one of them called me. I think you wasted a favor with the Governor. From what they told me, unless you blew the interview or something, they were going to hire you anyway.”

  “Virgil…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The next day, late in the morning I was back at the kitchen table, my case notes and files spread out before me. I had tried working at my desk, but there were two problems: one, there was not enough desk space for everything I wanted to look at, and two, I just could not get comfortable. There was not any way to prop my leg up. Sandy helped me move everything to the kitchen, then kissed me goodbye before she left to go downtown and hammer out the details of her new position with the academy.

  Two hours later I was halfway through my reports when the phone rang. I followed the ringing and saw the phone laying on the end table in the other room and swore under my breath. Should have thought about that. My machine was turned off, and by the time I got my crutches under myself and got up and over to the phone, the ringing had stopped. I brought up the caller I.D., saw who it was, and punched the number back in.