While Rome Was Sleeping

by M. S. Forsythe

  Ben answered in surprise, “His sister? But when I asked if we could notify someone, Mr. Kelshaw said there was no one left to tell. Why did he not tell us?”

  Neil responded, “I would suppose he knew that when I was contacted, I would know that his mission had been completed... without him. You see, Father Ben, Myra Kelshaw is Myra Kelshaw Klein, my wife. Her brother and my friend, was professional to the end, as I believe you are, Father.”

  “Thank you, Neil, please relay my sincere condolences to Myra Kelshaw. I am so sorry that she and her brother could not have been reunited.”

  “Thank you, Father”

  As Ben replaced the phone in its cradle, Andrew quickly asked, “Myra Kelshaw? What’s going on, Ben?” Ben slowly sat down. “George Kelshaw had a sister.”

  “Why did he ...?”

  Father Ben answered Andrew’s query, “I think I understand his reasons, Andrew, you see Neil Klein is married to George Kelshaw’s sister, Myra.”

  “So that’s it. That explains a lot of things.”

  ✽✽✽

  West Seattle’s Alki village seemed to be a natural destination for Andrew and Charlene. It afforded a beach walk and friendly benches where one could sit and gaze at the water or admire the view. Often a ferry could be seen or the occasional tug and barge outbound, and one could always observe sailboats offering other pleasant points of interest.

  After a brief wordless stroll, Andy pointed to a bench and said, “I want to talk with you about the station and all that.”

  Charlene nodded in agreement and asked, “Are you thirsty? I have a thermos of tea and some cups in the tote.”

  “Yes, thanks,” he responded as she took a small thermos from the tote and poured a cup for each of them. Then setting the tote slightly under the bench she raised hers in a toast.

  “Cheers,” she said touching her cup to his. “So, talk to me about Friday.”

  “Where do I begin?” he said, deciding not to tell her about his encounter with Coleman. He picked up at the point of his surprise and pleasure of finding Jack Hubbard at the Seattle Times.

  He told her about his resolution to put the Bob Mitchell problem to rest with the station; recounting his and station manager Carmichael’s subsequent conversation that led to his resignation.

  Then, taking her hand he said quietly, “I know I probably seem very stubborn and uncompromising in this whole thing, but to apologize as Carmichael and the station wanted me to would have been completely dishonest. I couldn’t do it, so I resigned. Can you understand that?” He asked, relieved as she nodded her head.

  “Of course, Andrew; you are a man of integrity, of that I’m certain. Frankly, I would have been surprised if you had apologized,” she said emphatically. Then added, “The ‘reflect and rephrase’ method doesn’t always work.”

  Still holding her hand he said abruptly, “I, I want to ask you something.”

  “What is it?” The seriousness of his tone caused her to search his face.

  “Charlene... Charlie,” he started again, “I’m not awfully good at this...journalists as a whole or even columnists don’t make large salaries, but I’m asking you to—consider marrying me. And before you flat out say no, I realize it can’t happen right away. I can’t offer you much right now. I just want you to think about it. I love you; that’s firm and it isn’t going to change,” he said, looking into her eyes that were now filled with tears.

  “Andy,” She whispered as she touched his face with her hand. “Oh, Andy, I won’t flat out say no. That was wonderfully sweet, but,” she paused, “You’re right, there’s a lot to consider. Things that must take time and believe me, it doesn’t have anything to do with money. We are very different people and we need to get to know each other under different, less stressful circumstances. I think I love you too. I didn’t think I could ever say that to anyone again, but...” Her voice softened, “So for now, let’s take some time and see what happens.”

  “That’s good, very good!” He said kissing her gently.

  “Just one other thing, Andy,” She said pulling away. “Not in any way can I be a reason for any career decisions you make. I want you to promise me that or else I will have to say no, now. Will you promise?”

  Andrew knew she meant it, “You drive a hard bargain, lady. What if I get an offer to go to Outer Mongolia or somewhere equally as remote; are you saying that you don’t want to weigh in, just a little, on that decision?” Andy quizzed trying to add a little humor.

  “That’s right, I don’t, and I am serious,” she said firmly. The plan for your life has to be yours and God’s. If I’m to be a part of it, I will be, because it will be the way it’s supposed to be and not because we’ve manipulated the process. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Ms. Thayer, I do understand and I surrender to your terms— Whoa, hey, watch out!” Andrew yelped as a runner with a hood pulled over headphones stumbled into their bench, the hood apparently blocking his peripheral vision.

  “Wha.., sorry, man, didn’t see ya’,” he mumbled as he regained his balance and galloped off.

  “Did he hurt you?” Andy asked. “He almost landed in your lap!”

  “No, I’m fine; he just wasn’t paying attention; intent on his music, no doubt. Let’s go across the street and look in the shop windows before we go. There’s an interesting little book store I want to look in.”

  “They’re not open on Sunday, you know,” Andrew said as he guided her across the street between the parked cars.

  They had reached the curb by the Land Cruiser, when Charlie broke away and starting back across the street, called out over her shoulder, “Just a minute, Andy, I left my tote by the bench.”

  Andrew caught off guard, yelled, “Wait, Charlene, I’ll get it. Watch out!” he shouted, as a passing car narrowly missed her, she jumped back momentarily. As she started forward again the world exploded in front of her. Suddenly the air was filled with flying debris. Pieces of the bench where they had been sitting were landing on the Land Cruiser, and a few cars parked close behind. Glass from two store windows behind Andrew shattered.

  The car that had caused her to jump back had taken the brunt of the explosion, and had landed partially on the parking strip and sidewalk; its two occupants were slumped in the front seat. Someone was trying to help get them out and away from further danger from the car. Charlene lay motionless in the street.

  Andrew had been hit by debris and the explosion had knocked him to the ground beside the Land Cruiser. He was trying to clear his head and grabbing onto the car, he struggled to raise himself to his feet. He saw Charlene in the street and lurched forward toward her calling her name, but she didn’t move.

  “Oh, God, Charlene,” he cried as he reached her side. “Somebody help! Help her!” He was on his knees beside her. He could barely hear the sirens over the ringing in his ears.

  Someone was beside him trying to help him to his feet. A voice that sounded far away, was saying, “Someone called 9-1-1. Come on, fella,’ you’re bleeding, you’re hurt; let us help you... The ambulance will be here in a few minutes,” Andrew pulled away from the hands trying to assist him, refusing to leave Charlene, he said hoarsely, “Help her, please,” he pleaded.

  A crowd had gathered now and people were helping others who had been hit by debris. “What happened?” people were asking.

  A police car reached the scene first and blocked off the street to allow the emergency vehicles to get through. A fire truck and two Medic One units had arrived and the paramedics immediately started to work on Charlene. Andrew would not move until someone assured him that she was alive. His ears were still ringing as the medics guided him to a waiting ambulance and put him inside, along with the two people who had been in the car. The medic assured him he could see Charlene at the hospital.

  Seeing the Seattle Policeman outside, he motioned him to the doorway of the ambulance, saying, “My name is Andrew Kincaid, officer, please get hold of Detective Jim Savalza and tell him what happen
ed here and ask him to meet us at Harborview.”

  “What did happen here, Mr. Kincaid? What caused the explosion—was it a bomb?” The officer asked looking at the residue.

  “Yes, it was a bomb.” Andrew asserted. “Get hold of Detective Savalza and tell him.”

  ✽✽✽

  The scene in the emergency room seemed like controlled chaos. The medical staff was operating in over-drive, moving rapidly from one injury to the other, triaging and treating the blast victims expeditiously. Charlene had been taken immediately into a treatment area where physicians and nurses were working to save her life.

  After arguing and losing, Andrew had been moved away from her to an area with some of the less severely injured blast victims. A person with a clipboard and forms was asking for information. He asked her where he could go to make a phone call and she directed him to small waiting area where he spotted a telephone on a table in the corner. Walking past the others waiting to be treated he quickly dialed Father Ben’s number.

  His ears were still ringing so badly he could barely hear Ben’s voice answer.

  His own voice echoed as he spoke, “Father Ben, this is Andrew. Can you come to Harborview Emergency? There has been an accident.”

  Ben instantly responded, “Andrew, you sound strange are you all right? Never mind, of course I’ll come. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  Andrew placed the phone back in the cradle and turning he saw Jim Savalza coming down the hall. “You got the word— do you know what happened?”

  Jim looked at Andy—“I heard. Holy smoke, Andy, you’re a mess! Shouldn’t you be in there lying down?” he pointed to an exam room.

  “I’m okay. It was a bomb, Jim. Someone tried to kill us. When you talk to me, Jim, I need to look at you. I’m not hearing too well. You have got to find out about Charlene – I’ve got to know how she is and nobody is telling me anything.” He was talking rapidly and Jim noticed his hand was shaking as he reached for the back of a chair for support.

  “Okay, Andy, take it easy, I will, but I want to know what hap...”

  Andrew cut him off adamantly, “Not until I know about Charlie, Jim. I mean it!” he said swaying slightly.

  “All right, all right. I’ll find out, but you’d better sit down—you don’t look so good.”

  Jim grabbed the first person he could find that looked medically official and showed his badge, “Detective Savalza,” he said identifying himself, “How is Charlene Thayer, Doctor? I’d like to ask her some questions, is she conscious?”

  “Sorry, Detective, she’s not conscious and we’re not sure what all of her injuries are.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  “Don’t know yet; she’s alive and we’ll be able to tell more after we’ve run some more tests. Right now I’d say she has a little better than fifty-fifty chance, given what we see on the surface.”

  “Thanks, Doc, I’ll want to talk with some of the other victims as they can.”

  “I understand Detective and I’ll keep you posted on Ms. Thayer,” he said as he hurried toward a treatment room.

  Jim returned to where Andrew was sitting in a straight chair, eyes closed, his head resting against the wall. Opening his eyes as Jim touched his shoulder, “What did you find out?” he asked urgently.

  “Not a lot, but the doctor thinks she’s got a good chance. She’s still not conscious. Andy, look, I need to ask some official questions. I know you and Charlene were at Alki. Where was the bomb?”

  Andrew grimaced as he closed his eyes tightly trying to visualize the moments before the explosion. “It had to have come from the bench—and it had to be the runner that did it. He must have dropped it into her bag and we didn’t notice...” he said it slowly and thoughtfully. “We had been walking and then sat down to talk-”

  “What runner?” Savalza was writing as he questioned.

  Ponderously, Andrew continued, “We had been sitting on a bench talking. We were just getting ready to leave when this guy comes running out of nowhere and stumbles into the bench. He almost landed in her lap. I yelled, and I think he muttered something like “sorry, didn’t see ya’, got his balance again and ran off. He was wearing a two piece sweat suit and he had the hood of the jacket pulled over headphones he was listening to; no wonder he didn’t see us.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t know—just a guy; you know—average build, average height nondescript sweat suit... dark gray I think. I couldn’t see his face because of the hood. Now we know why, huh,” Andrew sighed and leaned back again.

  “We crossed the street and Charlie wanted to look in the windows of a book store close to where we’d parked the car. Then she remembered her tote bag by the bench, those other people were in the car” he said pointing to the room where two of the victims were being treated, “Charlene almost ran into their car— everything happened so fast,” he shook his head, “I yelled at her to be careful; that I would get the tote, but she didn’t listen,” he said softly. “Anyway that’s when it happened.”

  Jim listened intently then closed his notebook saying gently, “That’s enough for now, here’s Father Ben,” he said seeing the priest approaching.

  Ben’s usually placid face reflected shock and concern seeing Andrew’s cut arms and bandaged head. His shirt was bloodstained and tattered. “Andrew, Andrew my friend, what happened?” Father Ben asked urgently. He looked at Jim and hesitantly asked, “Where is Charlene?”

  “She’s really hurt, Ben,” Andrew answered emotionally.

  Jim interjected, “Doctors think she’ll be okay, Father Ben. Let me fill you in.”

  A harried looking young man in a green scrub suit appeared, “Come on Mr. Kincaid, you’re next,” he said as he directed Andrew into a treatment room and pointed to an examining table. “By the way, I’m Doctor Doug Bennett; now let’s see, Andrew ...” he said as he glanced at the information on the clipboard the young woman had gathered earlier. “It says here that you were near the blast. I see that you have some cuts and abrasions and you complained of ringing in your ears which is not too surprising—often happens to people who have been close to an explosion. Is that all?”

  Andrew nodded, “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  “Well, let’s just have a good look to make sure there are no other problems, shall we?” Dr. Bennett looked in Andrew’s eyes with appropriate “Mmhmnns and then examined his ears and listened to Andrew’s heart and lungs; then, after thoroughly examining him for any other neurological damage, stepped away saying, “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Kincaid, you do have a mild concussion, but there is no permanent damage. As for your ears, the ringing will go away in a few days.

  “That’s a nasty gash on your head and it looks like it will probably need a stitch or two,” he said removing the temporary dressing from the injury on Andrew’s forehead. “Bad bump there along with the cut—how did it happen? Did you get hit by debris?”

  Andrew shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly... it hurts though.”

  “Well, we’ll take care of that right now.” While a nurse cleaned and bandaged the contusions on his arms, Dr. Bennett sutured the gash on Andrew’s head, “This won’t take long. You need to have someone look at it in a week or...”

  “Dr. Bennett—I want to see Charlene Thayer,” Andrew said emphatically, interrupting the doctor.

  “I’ll see what I can do, ah...” he paused, “Are you a relative?”

  “In a way, look, I need to see her,” Andrew insisted.

  “All right, don’t get excited, I’ll arrange it—right after you get a tetanus shot.” Dr. Bennett said quietly, as he nodded to the nurse and she injected Andrew.

  Coming out of the treatment room the doctor spoke with Father Ben and Jim briefly. “He’s okay—he can go home if there will be someone with him. He should be kept quiet for a few days. No driving etcetera, and his physician should check that head in a week or so.”

  Father Ben shook his head, “I don’t
believe Andrew will leave the hospital unless he knows that Mrs. Thayer is going to be all right, doctor.”

  “Mrs. Thayer?” Dr. Bennett looked surprised. “Is there a Mr. Thayer?”

  Jim answered the inquiry, “No Doctor, Charlene Thayer is a widow. I think Father Lee is right—I don’t think Andrew will want to leave. We’ll take care of him, and thanks ... you take good care of her. She’s a special lady,” he urged, his voice dropping. They waited with Dr. Bennett as Andrew emerged from the room.

  “Come on, Andy, let’s get you home and cleaned up a little. Then we’ll bring you right back here. Okay?” Jim put a strong hand on Andrew’s shoulder.

  “I will, but I have to see her before I go... the doctor said...”

  Dr. Bennett nodded and guided Andrew to a room where a medical team conferred as a nurse was monitoring Charlene’s vital signs. She was still unconscious. Dr. Bennett nodded to the nurse as Andrew moved to the bedside. Taking Charlene’s hand he gently kissed it and whispered, “Hang in sweetheart, I’ll be here.”

  Jim and Father Ben were eager to hear any report from Andrew, but he just shook his head as he rejoined them. “She’s still out.” His words were mixed with frustration and concern. “Ben, please, will you stay here until I get back? I’ve got a couple of things to do.”

  “Of course I will Andrew, and I will anoint her. Remember, my friend, we have a great source of help in our Lord. I will be praying—for both of you. It will be all right,” he said reassuringly.

  “Come on, Jim, let’s go.” Andrew felt slightly energized. Maybe it was pure adrenaline. He had something to do.

  ✽✽✽

  Andrew had forgotten about Jack and found a note telling him that Hubbard would be at the WAC asking that Andrew call later.

  On the way home, Andrew had told Jim they had to remove all the bugs in the apartment. They entered quietly and Jim silently pointed out each of the locations of the listening devices and then carefully removed each one. As they finished, Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. “If I had just been smarter, Charlene and those other people would be all right now. Me and my big mouth!”