The Hands

by Andrea Speed, A. B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, J. J Levesque, Katisha Moreish

  “That’s right.”

  “You’d told me he was stable, so I said to leave them to it. I really don’t see what you’re getting your knickers in a twist about.”

  “On a physical level, he was stable -”

  “So you’re a shrink now, as well as an angel of mercy?”

  “I’m not a qualified psychiatrist, no, which is why I can only comment on the physical -”

  “He wasn’t alone though, was he — Christopher Melky was there. But you’re implying now that the patient was suicidal. Were you going to sit and hold his hand and expect him to suddenly spill his guts to you because you batted your beautiful, big, brown eyes at him?”

  “I didn’t know if he was suicidal and frankly, I really didn’t want to know what he went through.” Gil stopped and shook his head. He really, really didn’t. “Enough of this, doctor. If you’re going to reprimand me, the least you could do is lay off the personal insults.”

  “Insult? You do have beautiful brown eyes.” They flashed a glare that would have stripped paint off the walls if he hadn’t been in the way. “Sorry, mate, couldn’t resist.”

  Puzzled, Gil wondered at the compliment. It had certainly sounded sincere, but he was beginning to think that there was much more to Miles than the doctor was revealing. Was the man being serious, or was this just another of his sarcastic digs? If he thought for a moment the admiration was sincere...oh, come on, it couldn’t be...could it?

  Miles sighed. One step forward, two steps back. What was it about this guy that really got under his skin? Maybe it was those eyes. “Sorry, I’m finding it hard here... keeping this professional. Maybe we shouldn’t associate outside work hours.” Maybe they shouldn’t, but that didn’t explain why the prospect of not seeing Gil’s sunny smile more often threatened to put the tight knot back in his gut. “The bottom line is that you and Mike are emergency response crew. I can’t afford to have you tied up for hours on end, holding someone’s hand; no matter how much that person needs it. What if we’d got a call from Asher Bay to help them respond to a multi-car pile-up on the highway... like the one we had a few days ago? Take it from me. You can’t solve the world’s problems. Sometimes even solving one person’s problems may be beyond our capabilities. All you can do... all I can do... is our job.”

  “The needs of the many, eh?” Gil exhaled heavily. “I guess I reacted badly to your ‘army shit’ comment. It wasn’t like you. You’re normally so...dedicated. It wasn’t a side of you I expected to hear, nor did I like hearing it.”

  Miles twiddled the pencil again in his hand. It helped to have something to touch...stopped him wanting to scream and yell as memories came flooding back. “Put it down to some experiences I’d rather forget. Take it from me, though, the armed services look after their own... or they should. They’re a law unto themselves. Stick together like glue. I suppose it comes from feeling everyone is out to get you. The only ones you can really trust are the ones that wear the same uniform. Fighting in a country where every friendly hand can be backed up by the opposite one holding a grenade with the pin out makes for some seriously fucked-up attitudes to civilians... no matter how well meaning and innocent they are.”

  “Same thing happened in Vietnam, Somalia, you name it, kids with guns, bombs in prams.”

  A loud crack reverberated as Miles snapped the pencil in half. Gil didn’t know anything about his years in Africa and the other hot spots did he?

  Gil met Miles’ eyes, “I’m not that stupid, Miles, my mother is an historian, and an American citizen. She’s also a writer. I’ve seen the pictures....” He shuddered.

  Miles tried to hide his sigh of relief as he bent over and threw the broken pieces in the bin. Hopefully any heightened color in his face would be attributed to the action rather than surprise at Gil’s words. Somalia. He really didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Not ever. “All we can do is be around to pick up the pieces and try to put them together again. But if they don’t want to be helped, we can’t force them. If they say they’re flying someone in, then it sounds like he will be getting attention. Whether it’s the sort of attention he needs is another matter.“

  “You can take a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. I’m sorry, I was out of order. I’m not used to abandoning my patients.”

  And the implication is that I am? Miles chewed his lips for a second, wondering how to respond. “Maybe your experience in big cities where there are lots of ambulances on call makes you forget what it’s like when you’re the only one around. It gets tough then, deciding how and when to stop and move onto the next case. Do you give all your care and attention to one person and ignore the ones around you? Or do you try to get them stable and move on, leaving it up to God or whatever higher power, you or they believe in, to finish the job? Trust me, these decisions aren’t easy to make, but we have to learn when to walk away, no matter how hard it may be at the time. We have to recognise our limits.”

  “Fuck it, what the hell do you think I am?” On top of all that had happened yesterday, the comment stung. “Are paramedics trained differently over here or something? Do people expect them to know sweet FA? I’ve had disaster management training, I’ve been on countless exercises, I was even with the Air Ambulance for two years. I’m neither wet behind the ears nor am I a stranger to triage. It’s like nobody gives me credit for knowing anything about this shit!” He watched as Miles opened his mouth to say something and jumped in again. “I agree, I made a bad call, but I’ve told you why, I’m not used to the way things are done here. In an emergency situation, I can make those judgement calls, but here, on a case I’d normally be able to deal with by calling for back-up, there is no fucking back-up.”

  Miles rolled the stool away from his desk and stood. This conversation was hitting every damn button he had. No matter what he said, he wasn’t getting any closer to a resolution. Gil was not going to back down. He turned and looked out the window. Seemed like he’d lost the only friend he had in this one-horse town. Maybe it wasn’t Gil who should quit, but him. “You’re right. I should respect your judgement more. I forget sometimes that you do have all that experience. You seem so young. But it’s not that. I’m just old. Old enough to know better.” The last words were muttered softly, more to remind himself.

  The chair scraped across the floor as Gil stood quickly before crossing to the window in a few strides. He grabbed Miles by the shoulders and spun him round. “Don’t be so fucking stupid!” he snapped, “You’re not old. You can lie to the rest of the world all you want, but don’t lie to yourself. You’re hiding -”

  Miles stared into those brown eyes that seemed to see behind the beard and the bushy hair. Had he been that obvious? Yes, he was hiding here. Like a bear coming to a cave to hibernate, he’d hoped to spend the remainder of his life in Haven Falls. Wasn’t that what the town had promised to be - a Haven? He shook off the paramedic’s hands and walked away. “I won’t be putting in any sort of reprimand.” Maybe if he changed the subject, he could stop the guy getting too close. He didn’t need close. He just needed to be left alone.

  “I don’t give a shit about a reprimand. I’ve had them before.” Gil huffed a laugh. “Shouldn’t be telling you that though.” He looked out the window at the grey sky. It suited the mood. He wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t think of how to start. Maybe Miles was right, this was one of those times when he should know his limits and walk away.

  Now that he was a safe distance away, Miles turned and stared at Gil’s back. The soft light from the window was wrapping around his tall, strong frame. Every inch seemed to be tense, alive. “I still think it might be better if we keep our relationship on a professional basis.” He swallowed. “I appreciate you were trying to help with the jogging and all that, but I have Rufus now....” Instead of the dog snuggling up to him, a sudden image of Gil naked in bed beside him hit like a cricket ball in the gut. Shit. No, he really didn’t want to get that close. He shut his mouth and pushed that imag
e through his mental shredder. The less he saw of the paramedic the better.

  I should just walk away, leave it, the guy wants his privacy. Trouble was, Gil had seen it before. He thought of Phil, his best friend through college, remembered the phone call he’d received a year ago. Angel of mercy? Miles had no idea. Sometimes, he wanted to grab Miles by the collar and shake some sense into him. “Trouble is, you can’t talk to a dog.”

  Miles snorted. Sometimes that was precisely what he did. Was it a sign of early onset dementia creeping in. Alzheimer’s? It sure as hell was a sign of bloody loneliness. His life had centred so much around Darren that he really didn’t have any friends in the States. “I’m just concerned about the difficulties of mixing friendship and work.”

  “What’s the real reason? Look, I didn’t disobey you because I look on you as a friend, I made a judgement based on a situation I didn’t understand and a reaction that didn’t make sense at the time. And I’m sorry. That was grossly unprofessional of me -”

  The real reason? No way was Miles going there. “You trying to make me feel bad, now?” Miles gave a small grin to show he was joking. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from. A little more explanation on my part at the time would have avoided all this ... unpleasantness. I’m sorry. I’ve been watching you work. You’re good at your job. I should have had more faith in your abilities. When I heard Jason Biggs was a war vet and had been through some tough times in Afghanistan I over-reacted.” Miles walked over and held out his hand.

  “And I should have had more faith in your experience. You know the score here, I don’t. Next time, I promise I’ll do as I’m told.” Gil took Miles’ hand in his.

  He promises to do what he’s told? Miles shuddered as they shook hands and hoped the younger man didn’t notice. Talk about pushing buttons!

  Gil felt the older man’s hand tremble briefly in his and wondered, but he saw no reaction in his expression and decided to leave it. He had already pushed things far enough as it was.

  Haven Falls #107: Cold Calling

  Aiden Parker, Henry Vale, & Flynn Archer

  ______________________________

  After Flynn left, Aiden took another shower and spent some time cleaning and made a small dinner. With no schoolwork to do, and no pressing matters that needed to be addressed, he spent some time playing with Dante. When the dog was worn out, he grabbed a new acquired book from his table and sat down to read.

  The book was new, but not one for his collection. He had picked it up a few weeks ago at the small bookstore in town, but had no time recently to read it. Now that he had the time - a few hours at least - he was excited. With Dante at his feet resting, he carefully cracked open the mystery novel and immersed himself in the world within the book.

  Just as he was really getting into the first chapter, there was a knock at his door. Dante jumped up from what Aiden had thought was a sound sleep and began to bark. Marking his place with the receipt, he set the book down on the table and answered the door. If it was Flynn, he might kill him for interrupting. But opening the door, he saw an older man he didn’t recognize.

  “Can I help you?” Aiden asked.

  “Excuse me if I interrupted anything. I’m Henry Vale, from the Final Rest Funeral Home, and I wished to pass on my condolences to Errol - I mean Flynn Archer or the tragic passing of his father. He’s not here by any chance?” Vale wondered, playing his smoothness to the hilt. Ah, the big eyed English teacher. Much more wholesome looking than Flynn’s usual conquest. He seemed to prefer rough trade, as far as he could tell.

  Henry Vale. This was the man Flynn had just warned him about. Aiden’s eyes widened briefly. How would he know to look for Flynn here? And how did he know about his father, unless... Aiden frowned and shook is head. “No, Flynn isn’t here.” Errol? Who the hell was that?

  “Pity. I went by his apartment, but his neighbor said he hadn’t been around for at least a day. I was afraid he was taking it hard.” Or had run off, which would have been sensible, but he could count on Flynn not being sensible in the least. That seemed to run in his family.

  Flynn had told him he was going home, so where did he run off to now? Aiden resisted the urge to sigh. “Sorry, you missed him by a few hours. I’m sure he’s around town.” He wasn’t sure how much he should say to this man. And the minute he left, he was going to call Flynn and let him know. He did say he should call if he ran into him. Aiden wasn’t expecting it to be so soon.

  Vale gave Aiden his most professional smile. This poor pretty boy had no idea the level of trash he was involved with, did he? “I’ll leave you my card. I’m sure he’ll want to call me.” He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out one of his laminated cards before he handed it to the teacher.

  “I’m sure he could just look up the number,” Aiden said, hesitating before taking the card. “There’s only one funeral home in Haven Falls, isn’t there?”

  “Yes, but this should be more convenient for the bereaved. This is such a hard time.” Harder than this poor little English teacher could imagine. How much had Flynn told him? Anything true? He was like a deer in the headlights, giving off too many startled signals for him to be sure.

  “Yes, it must be. Flynn did seem upset earlier,” he said. It wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t a lie either. Flynn had been upset, but more about this man than anything else. Aiden suddenly felt like he was in the middle of one of his mystery novels. “I’ll make sure I give him the card. It was very kind of you to stop by.” Though I still want to know how he figured to come here...

  Vale dipped his head, a partial bow, and said, “It’s the least I can do. And may I say, you have a lovely home. You must enjoy the silence here.”

  Aiden narrowed his eyes slightly. “Thank you. It is quiet, and I enjoy it.” Dante bumped against his leg, sniffing at the man and Aiden let him nose past a little. Something, perhaps his scent from being around dead bodies at the funeral home, set him off and he growled low. “But Dante keeps me company.”

  Vale looked down at the tiny dust mop he called a dog, and grinned at it. One good kick, and he bet he could send it all the way to Asher Bay. “What a cutie. Purebred?”

  “Yes, and growing every day. He’ll be a larger dog.” He already was getting pretty big. Not fast enough though, he thought, with one look at Vale.

  “Oh, I’m sure, eventually.” He smiled blankly at Aiden. He’d never get big enough in time, though, although dogs didn’t bother Vale. He had enough poisons at his disposal to kill a thousand dogs. People too, but where was the fun in that? “Should I leave a brochure? Flynn might want to look over casket options.”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll give him the card. I’m sure he’ll call. Or pay you a visit.” Aiden took a small step back, hand on the door. Dante stayed at his side, still growling.

  “Tell him I’m looking forward to it,” Vale replied, wondering if any of this had sunk in. Poor boy, all alone out here, with no close neighbors. Anything could happen here, and besides Flynn, who would know for days? “Have a good day.” Vale turned slowly on his heels and walked back towards his car, admiring all the seclusion. Yes, this would do nicely.

  Aiden shut the door as soon as he turned and locked it. That man... he was so strange. Cold. He shivered and pulled out his phone where Flynn’s number was programmed in, and pressed the button to call him. He just hoped he answered.

  “Yeah, Aiden, what?”

  “Thank God, you answered.” Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. “You told me to call, well, Henry Vale just showed up at me house.”

  “What?! Is he there now? What did that bastard do?” Just the thought of that bastard being alone with Aiden made his blood turn cold.

  “He left. But he was looking for you. I don’t know how he figured to look here, but he said he stopped at your place. He left you his business card and condolences over your father. I didn’t believe it.”

  “He what?” That fucking bastard. What the hell was that stuff ab
out his father supposed to mean? Flynn rubbed his eyes, trying to focus. Focusing was hard when he was pissed off. “How did he know where you lived? Why did he come there?” Why was he asking Aiden? The truth was, Flynn knew why Vale had showed up there. It was a threat, just as threatening the “big eyed English teacher” had been a bludgeon to use against him.

  “I don’t know. I would like to know that myself. It was so... strange. Dante doesn’t like him. Neither do I. You were right. And he made a strange comment about my house...” Aiden frowned, trying to recall his exact wording.

  “Just ... keep the door locked. I’m on my way.” As an afterthought, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t have a weapon?”

  “I locked it the second he turned around.” Aiden shook his head, even though he knew Flynn couldn’t see it. “No, nothing besides a hammer. I guess that could work.” As if he could use that against a person.

  “If he shows up again before I come back ... call the police.” That last part was especially hard for him to say, but if meant protecting Aiden, he’d be willing to bite that bullet.

  If Flynn was telling him to call the police, it was serious. “All right. I will. I’ll see you soon.” Aiden hung up and checked the door again to make sure it was locked. Feeling creeped out, he went around the house shutting all the blinds in the windows and turned on the lights. He’d never felt uncomfortable in this house before. With Dante at his side, he dug through a closet and found the hammer. Though he felt foolish, he set it near him as he sat back down to wait for Flynn.

  Haven Falls #113: Ashes To Ashes

  Miles Sutherland & Flynn Archer