Bits And Pieces

by Nicholas Antinozzi

Connie Baker gingerly removed the last twenty dollar bill from her wallet and said a little prayer. She then fed it into the slot machine. Two minutes and thirteen seconds later it was gone. She got up and stretched, checked her watch and went off in search of her brother.

  She found George wandering around by the keno machines. George had never been much of a gambler, but they’d had some time to kill and it hadn’t been too difficult for Connie to talk him into making the twenty minute drive. George had even offered to buy Connie lunch at the casino’s buffet. George was seldom generous and Connie was always hungry. They found the restaurant and enjoyed a good meal together.

  “So,” Connie said, picking at a piece of cheese cake with her fork. “Do you really think they’ll pay five hundred thousand? That seems like an awful lot to hope for.”

  George nodded his head as he finished chewing a bite of apple pie. “They might even go as high as seven hundred fifty, I’ve seen it before. We’ve just got to play the game. Let me do the talking, you’ve got to trust me on that.”

  The fork trembled in Connie’s fingers as she did the math. She didn’t know what that meant to her after a four-way split, she only knew that it was a lot of money. She smiled. “If we do get the money,” she asked, setting the fork down, “what are you going to do with your share?”

  George sat back from the table and rubbed his large stomach. “I’ve always wanted to go to Costa Rica. I’ve got three weeks of vacation coming and I think I’ve earned it.”

  “What about Alice and the kids?”

  “Are you kidding? They’d hate it down there. They want to go to Disney World. I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “What about Mom?”

  “What about her? She can pay off the house and retire. They had a little money saved, not a lot, but enough so she can get by pretty good if she watches what she spends. Don’t worry about her, she’ll be fine. What about you? Have you thought about what you’re going to do with your cut?”

  Connie had, in fact she’d thought of little else that day. She licked her lips. “I’m going to get some new boobs.”

  George grimaced, looking over his shoulder. “Connie,” he hissed.

  “Quit being a prude,” Connie said, smiling. “I read about this clinic in Mexico where I can have them done for three thousand dollars. I can also get a tummy tuck and some lypo done for another seven thousand. You should think about it, George. You’re getting a little chunky, yourself.”

  George rolled his eyes and took another bite of his pie.

  They sat there for another half an hour, discussing their plans as the electronic machines played their hypnotic tunes out on the casino floor. Now and then, a whoop would escape from the crowd and Connie would feel a chill run down her spine.

  The drive back to the hospital was quiet. Connie smoked two cigarettes as she thought about what she’d do with the rest of the money. There were so many possibilities. Connie decided to make up a list the minute she got home. George parked the Ford in the crowded ramp and got out of the car. He walked around to the back and leaned against the trunk. The afternoon was overcast and warm. He lit up a cigarette and waited for his sister.

  “Well?” Connie asked. “Shouldn’t we go in?”

  “In a minute, I just want to go over this with you. Remember, let me do the talking. I’ve done this before, it’s a game. They’re going to low-ball us, they always do that. Let me handle it.”

  “What if Mom doesn’t want to sign the papers? What if Dad doesn’t want to go?”

  “Dad’s almost sixty; of course he’ll want to go. Are you kidding?” George asked, flicking his cigarette to the concrete. “Mom will do whatever Dad tells her to do. You know that. He’s got cancer, he’s dying. He knows the score. If he decides to try and fight it, he and Mom will be flat broke in six months. Even if he beats the odds, what are they supposed to do then? Are you going to invite them into your home?”

  “Are you kidding me? Hell no.”

  “Me either. Susan might, but she’s living in that little trailer. Can you see the three of them living there? They’d drive each other crazy in a week. No, Dad isn’t going to want to fight this. Trust me. He’ll take the buy-out and they’ll give him a shot and we’ll have the funeral. It’ll be over by Friday. We’ll have the check by Monday. That’s the law.

  “Seven hundred fifty?” asked Connie, clenching her fists and holding them up to her double-chin. “That sounds like a lot for a lawn mower mechanic. Do you really think they’ll go that high?”

  “The treatment would cost twice that. I already checked. That doesn’t include after-care and follow ups. Dad won’t actually turn sixty for another two months, which makes a huge difference. The insurance company isn’t going to want to go that high, but we’re in the driver’s seat. Every minute Dad’s in that bed they’re losing money. They’ll pay; just let me do the talking.”

  Connie nodded and they started to walk to the elevator. “George?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What if it’s not cancer?”

  “Then it isn’t. Let’s not think about that.”

  “Okay.”

  The elevator was slow and the walk across the skyway into the hospital seemed to take an eternity. The hospital was brightly lit and their footsteps echoed down the tiled hallway. They found their mother and Susan in the same waiting room where they’d left them. They were alone and had obviously been crying. Without so much as a hello, Connie took a seat next to George.

  Connie and George were outsiders and they blamed Susan for that. She was the youngest of the three siblings and had always been closer to their parents. Connie hated Susan, hadn’t spoken to her in five years and wasn’t about to start now.

  “We’ve got to talk about this,” said George.

  Susan glared at George with red-rimmed eyes and their mother began to sob.

  “Don’t look at him like that,” snapped Connie, unable to quell her anger. “We only want what’s best for Mom.”

  “You monsters,” spat Susan. “Where the hell have you been? Daddy’s been in there for four hours.”

  “Shut up you little bitch,” countered Connie, feeling that familiar hatred welling up from deep inside her chest. “Don’t make me come over there.”

  “Ladies,” said George. “Stop it! Fighting about this isn’t going to make things any easier. Mom, we really do need to talk about this. When the agent shows up, you’ve got to let me handle this. Okay? We’re only going to get one shot at the big money.”

  Susan stood up and raised her fists at her brother. Mother began to wail, and she reached out and grabbed her daughter by the waist, holding on with considerable strength.

  Connie had heard enough. She stood up and strode across the waiting room to Susan, stopping bare inches in front of her. She could feel her heart racing inside her chest. She cocked her fist.

  “What the hell is going on?” shouted Dad from the doorway.

  Connie’s head snapped back as if she’d been slapped.

  “Daddy!” exclaimed Susan, and she and her mother rushed into his waiting arms.

  “I asked a question,” said Tom Baker, hugging the two of them. “What the hell is going on?”

  There was no chance to reply as the doctor entered the room. The man was holding a chart and the smile on his face gave the prognosis away. “He’s going to be fine,” he said, looking pleased. “There’s no cancer, we can all relax.”

  Connie exchanged a look with George who had grown as pale as a sheet. She then felt lightheaded and fell into one of the padded chairs. Pain shot down her left arm and she tasted copper. She clutched at her chest before spilling to the floor.

  Connie awoke to the sound of bings and beeps. Something had been rammed down her throat and it took her a moment to realize that it was a breathing tube. She felt as if she had been hit by a truck.

  “Of course,” someone was saying. “We could settle this right here. You’re the next of kin and I’ve got to be h
onest with you, it doesn’t look good. The doctor doesn’t think she’d survive the surgery.”

  Connie tried to speak. Who were they talking about?

  “I don’t know,” said George. “Connie’s pretty tough and she’s a fighter. I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Susan.

  Connie cringed and the bings and beeps increased in intensity.

  “We’re offering to buy you out. I’ve been instructed to offer you one hundred thousand.”

  “You’re kidding,” said George. “That’s an insult. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

  “Never!” shrieked Susan. “I’ll never sign away Connie’s life. Get the hell out of here, you miserable piece of shit!”

  “Susan,” pleaded George. “Let’s be reasonable.”

  “Two hundred thousand,” offered the voice.

  Connie wished she could lift her head. She tried, but it was no use. She desperately wanted someone to notice her, but it was as if she wasn’t even there.

  “You’re getting warm,” said George.

  There was the sharp, unmistakable sound of a slap.

  “You do that again and I’ll knock your teeth out,” said George.

  “Three hundred thousand,” the voice retorted.

  “Stop!” wailed Susan. “That’s my sister! You’re a monster. Both of you are monsters, oh my God. I’m going to find Mom and Dad. I’ll never sign that paper, do you hear me? Never!”

  Connie could hear the patter of footsteps and again, she tried to raise her head from the pillow. She strained, willing herself to move under the enormous pressure that was holding her down. She wanted to kill George. And then thunder exploded inside her chest.

  The machines began to squeal in one long, deafening tone. Connie could feel herself slipping away. Suddenly, George’s face was close to hers.

  “Connie,” he begged. “Hang on. For the love of God, you’ve got to hang on.”

  The unseen man appeared from behind George. He was smiling.

  And Connie died, knowing a lot more about her siblings than she had the previous day.

  The Scream