When the second gripping pain came, it was in her back. She had broken out in a cold sweat, thunder pounded in her head, and the room had begun to swim. Before she knew what happened, she was lying on the ground calling for her mother.
All the kids just stared at her, but Pastor Reynolds had been nearby. He rushed to her side, rendering aid. She had tried to protest calling an ambulance, but when she heard its welcome siren, she felt relieved.
Her mother was kneeling over her, when she had whispered, “It’s where he kicked me.” She felt a tear stream down her face. She wiped it away quickly. It was odd to think how much she had been crying lately. It was as if she were losing some of her strength. Maybe you’re getting weak, she thought.
The door opened, softly. Lacy turned her face toward it and struggled through her twilight sleep to see who it was. “Dr. Petoro,” she said, surprised to see him. “You keep late hours.”
He laughed. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
She shook her head no. He sat in the chair next to her bed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I just wanted to check on you before I head home.”
For some reason, she doubted the validity of this statement. She was doing well, and the pain was under control. She hadn’t had any more of the spasms. It appeared as if all the medications were doing their jobs. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s the real reason you’re here?”
He chuckled. “Am I that transparent?”
She smiled in response.
He cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you about your home life.”
She stiffened. “You and every state official who means well, but can’t really do anything,” she said with sarcasm.
“We can if you let us. All you have to do, Lacy, is speak up. If you testify against your father, they can lock him up.”
She shook her head. “I thought so,” she said. “I even gave my mom that social worker’s card so she could call her.” Lacy lifted her arm, pointed at the IV tubing that was dripping healing medications into her body. “Look where that got me. Mom attempted to stand up to my dad once. He was so angry that he felt compelled to unburden himself.”
He scooted the chair closer, leaned in close to her, speaking in a whisper, he said, “It could have worked, but your mom got scared and backed down, didn’t she?” Lacy nodded. “You two are not in this alone. We can help, I swear.”
Lacy crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll only do it if Mom leaves him.” She paused before adding, “And testifies, too.”
He sighed. “The two of you need to stop playing this game.” He knew the words were wrong the minute they left his mouth.
A flash of anger distorted Lacy’s face. “It’s not a game!” She began pulling on the IV tubing, yanking free the tape holding it in place. “It’s not a game!” she wailed. She started to cry hysterically as her fingers grasped the tubing and yanked it free.
“Lacy, stop,” he yelled, trying to stop her hands.
“Let me go!” she screamed, thrashing around on the bed.
“Shh…” he soothed, pulling her against him. She fought him at first, then slowly calmed as his arms went around her. He held her tight, reached out and pushed the call button that would summon a nurse.
Tina Spurlow answered the summons, surprised to find him sitting on Lacy’s bed, rocking her. “Did you need something, Doctor?”
He nodded. “Ativan, 2 mg, and an IV restart.”
She left the room, returned a minute later with a syringe and a new IV set. He continued to hold Lacy until the nurse started a new IV, and the Ativan began to soothe her racing heart. When he felt her body relax in his arms, he laid her back against the pillows. Her eyes were closed, and he assumed she was sleeping.
He left the room. As the door closed, Lacy heard a small, welcome whisper in her ear.
“Lacy.”
She turned her head and smiled. “There you are, Jake. I was worried.” She frowned. “I needed you, and you weren’t here. You said you would help me. Why did you break your promise?”
“I’m here.”
“Will you stay with me while I sleep?”
He climbed into bed with her. She turned on her side, wriggling her back against his front, spoon fashion. She reached for his arm, pulling it on top of her stomach and holding onto it. “I hope the nurses don’t catch us. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.” She yawned.
He smiled. “Just go to sleep. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
***
At the doctors’ workstation, Allen Petoro sat at his desk, tapping Angela Martin’s card. He had called and left her a message two hours ago, marking it urgent. She still hadn’t returned the call. Where could she be?
He thought about the day he watched Brenda in the lobby, reading to the children. A smile spread across his face as he recalled the moment she looked up and caught him watching her. Her smile had been like an innocent schoolgirl blushing at the boy who had asked her to the school dance.
When Allen was in medical school, he swore to uphold the Hippocratic Oath. He promised to do no harm, help those who were unable to help themselves. He had taken and recited the oath by rote, as if it were expected of him, and it was. He had his sights set high. He was going to be a great physician, travel the world helping the underdog. However, fate had other plans in store for him. With overwhelming student loans and a lack of finesse necessary for getting the right grants, he was stuck at home. Walter Brown, a former professor of his, had always said, “One need not leave his own backyard to find a starving child.” With this quote in mind, he struck out on a mission to help the poor and lonely, feed the hungry, clothe the naked.
He began by just walking the streets of the city. He toted a backpack filled with whatever he could carry: cans of food, socks, hats, scarves—whatever would fit. He wasn’t at all surprised to find that even a city as small as this had its share of needy. On his first night out, he encountered Elaine. Elaine, a small, but tough single mother, had accosted him over a loaf of bread.
He was walking down 6th street when he spotted a bakery. The smells drove him crazy. He couldn’t help but stop and enter the store. A young girl of about sixteen stood behind the cash register, painting her fingernails. She looked up when he approached the counter and flashed a bright grin at him. “Hey, there, what can I get ya?”
“I’ll have whatever is causing that heavenly smell.”
She laughed, turned to yell something to a woman who was behind a counter rolling out dough. The woman stopped, wiped her hands on an apron, walked to a different counter where several large loaves of bread lay cooling. She packaged one of the loaves and brought it to the register. She smiled, said nothing, and returned to her dough.
“Here you are,” the girl said.
The minute he left the store, someone tried to grab the loaf of bread from his hands. They struggled for a moment. She was determined and finally managed to wrestle the bread from his grasp. Stunned, he chased after her and the bread.
He saw her turn down an alley. In the back of his mind, he was telling himself to let it go. But he didn’t. He followed her down the alley—long, dark, and littered with bottles and cans. Allen had to step over them. He didn’t see her anywhere. Walking slowly and quietly, he searched each doorway. He was almost at the end of the alley when he saw her standing in a doorway, her back to a wall. She had a determined look on her face. “It’s all gone,” she said.
He looked past her and saw the last smidgen of his bread clutched in the fists of a little boy. Standing beside the boy were three other children ranging in ages from about two on up to about ten years old.
“I’m sorry, but my kids are hungry,” she said.
He stared down at the lot of them. They were underweight, dirty, obviously hungry, and looking sad. He tried to smile at them, but they only stared back.
He looked back at the woman. “What’s your name?”
“You stole my bread. That makes it my business.”
“I will pay you for it.”
He laughed. “With what? You obviously don’t have any money, or you would have purchased the bread yourself.”
She stared at him. She stuck one leg out, put a hand on her hip, trying to strike a seductive pose. She opened the first two buttons of her blouse. “I can pay,” she said, her meaning clear.
His smile dropped. He assessed her. She was beautiful—or at least she might have been under all the street grime that covered her. Her long, dark hair was matted, with no trace of the luster it might once have held. She was small; the ten-year-old’s head already came just past her shoulder. In another year or so, he would likely surpass her in height.
He shook his head. “Forget it.” He wondered how many times a week she offered her body in exchange for food.
She pulled her leg back in, buttoned her blouse, and stared defiantly. “You gonna call the cops?”
He sighed, looked from her to each of her children, his gaze landing on the oldest boy. “I’m going to buy you all dinner,” he said.
She eyed him suspiciously, pulled her son against her, protectively, and said. “He’s not that kind of boy.”
His mouth fell open in stunned amazement. “No. I didn’t mean that, either. Dinner is free; my treat.”
“Free?”
“Yes, free.”
“Why?”
He remembered what his professor had said and repeated it to her. “Because one need not leave his own backyard to find a starving child.”
She puzzled over this, but finally relented and followed him to an all-night diner. They dined in style. The waitress brought one dish after another to the table. The children ate with voracious appetites. She barely picked at her food.
“What’s wrong?” Allen asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t feel right.”
“Why.”
“My mother didn’t raise me to accept charity.”
“Everyone needs a little help, occasionally. Eat up.”
He left the table, returning moments later with an overweight, balding man. “This is Henry,” he said. He gestured toward the woman. “Henry, this is… I’m sorry, you never told me your name.”
“Elaine,” she said, demurely.
“Beautiful name,” he said. “Here’s the deal. Henry needs a waitress. You need a job. The way I see it, it’s a match made in heaven.”
Elaine sat with a gaping mouth. One of the children reached over and closed it, causing a ripple of laughter from the other children. Elaine scolded them with her eyes, and they straightened up.
“I’m confused,” she managed to say.
Allen looked at Henry. “Well, Henry. What did I tell you?”
Henry looked her over, nodding his head. “I’m willing to give it a try.”
“Wait just a minute,” Allen said. “The uniform’s furnished?”
Henry nodded. “I’ve got a room in the back, it’s not much, but you’re welcome to stay in it until you get on your feet.” He rubbed his jaw in concentration. “I think six months ought to do it.” He looked at the oldest boy. “How old is the boy?”
Elaine took on her mother lioness stance again. “He’s ten.”
“Old enough to sweep floors after school,” he said.
“He doesn’t go to sch…” Elaine started to protest. She trailed off, catching herself before revealing too much.
“I said, after school,” Henry protested.
Elaine smiled. She had always wanted her kids to go to school, but she counted on the older ones to help with the younger ones. “I need them to watch the babies.”
“Social services provide daycare for the homeless in this area, the ones that want to work, anyway. They’ll help get your older ones in school.”
Elaine was on the verge of bolting, her eyes wide with panic. She grabbed her children to her in a protective grasp. “They’ll take them away.”
“No they won’t,” Henry said. “They only want to help. I’ll vouch for you.”
He left for a moment, disappearing through a door, emerging moments later with a single key on a long string. “The room is around back. As I said, it’s not much, but it’s warm, dry, and has a bathroom. You and the kids can eat in the diner free for the first month. After that, I’ll give you half off the menu price, or you can visit the market. No cooking in the room, though. Do we have a deal?”
She looked hesitant, looking from one child to the other. For a moment, it seemed as if she would decline. Then suddenly, she beamed and, jumping from her seat, she ran to his side, grabbed his hand and pumped it up and down in a firm handshake. “Thank you, Sir.”
He looked down at her gruffly, but Allen could see the faintest of smiles turning up his lips. “Don’t disappoint me.”
They left the diner. Allen escorted them to the room, looked inside, and frowned. “Pretty dismal,” he said.
Elaine smiled softly. “It’s a palace compared to an alley doorway.”
He nodded, took out his wallet, and extracted a bunch of twenties. “Here’s a hundred dollars. There’s a thrift store one block over. This should be enough to get you and the kids something decent to wear.”
She pushed the money back at him. “I can’t. Really, this is too much,” she said, but her eyes danced with longing.
He picked up her hand, shoved the money into it, and said, “Take it. Just be honest with it and buy clothes.”
She nodded, choking back tears. “I don’t know what to say.”
He laughed. “Say thank you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He left them, walking away with a grin on his face. Never before in his life had he done something that made him feel so good.
That was just the beginning for him. The next day he signed up to take shifts at the free clinic. He volunteered three days per month at the homeless shelter, doing whatever was necessary. He even discovered he had a knack for a hammer and nails.
He brought many more single mothers and needy business owners together. That was how he had met Angela Martin. He found the needy, and she helped the needy. Between the two of them, over the past five years, they had successfully retired thirty single mothers off the welfare rolls, and into working society.
His phone rang. He flipped it open, looked at the caller ID. “Angela,” he said. “Finally.”
She sighed in exasperation. “I do have a life outside my office,” she said. “Unlike others, who may remain nameless.”
He ignored the jab, getting right to the point. “Lacy Waldrip’s in the hospital.”
“Why?”
“Her father kicked her so hard that he damaged her kidney.” The line brought only silence. “Angela, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“I said Lacy Waldrip is in the hospital.”
“I heard you. I just don’t know how to respond.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
“Is she willing to talk?”
It was his turn to be silent.
“That’s what I thought.” She sighed. “Look, Allen. I can help Lacy, but not if neither she nor her mother is willing to testify.”
“It isn’t fair,” he protested.
“Neither is murder,” she said. “But it happens.”
“We have to help them.”
“Get them to talk, and I’m in.”
“Will you try again, Angela?”
The line went silent for a moment. He was hopeful. Finally, she sighed. “I’ll come by in the morning, but I make no promises.”
“Thanks, Angela. She’s in room 250.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
He switched off the light, time to go home. As he passed Lacy’s room, he stopped to peek through the window. She was lying on her side, near the edge of the bed. She held her arm in
an unusual pose as if she were holding something. He thought about walking in to check on her, but he didn’t want to wake her.
He made his way home, weary from the day’s excitement. Four messages blinked at him, but he didn’t take the time to listen to them. He crawled into bed and collapsed, falling into a deep sleep almost instantly.
He dreamt of Lacy and Brenda. In the dream, he was playing cards with Lacy. Brenda watched, gleefully clapping when Lacy laid down a full house and pulled the pot of Hershey’s kisses toward her. Allen pretended to pout at his defeat. Lacy offered a consolation prize of five Hershey’s kisses.
When Allen woke, he was smiling. He had been going about this all wrong. He had been bullying the two women into trusting him, when what he should be doing is winning their trust.
On his way to the hospital, he stopped at the Walmart and bought a deck of cards and a bag of Hershey’s kisses. He walked into Lacy’s hospital room and plopped the bag down on her bedside table. “Do you know how to play poker, Lacy?”
She looked at him, puzzled. She shook her head.
“Then I’m going to teach you.”
He reached into the bag, pulled out the deck of cards and the bag of kisses. He looked around, trying to find something that might hold their treasure. He spotted an unused emesis basin. He reached over and picked it up. He looked at it. “You didn’t use this, did you?” She wrinkled her nose, grinning. She shook her head. “Good.” He dumped the candy into the basin and set it on the table between them. He began to instruct her on how to play the game.
Half an hour later, Angela Martin strolled in. She took in the scene before her. “Well, what’s going on here?” she teased. Allen threw his body over the card game. “Quick, Lacy, hide the evidence. Social service is here. We can’t let her catch me corrupting minors.”
Lacy laughed until her side started to hurt. “Stop, I can’t stand it,” she cried.
Allen pushed himself off the table. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Lacy nodded. “It just hurts to laugh.”
Angela looked at Lacy. “Is everything okay here?”
Lacy’s smile faded. “Everything’s fine.”
Lacy's End Page 11