Last Dance at the End of the World

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Last Dance at the End of the World Page 4

by Jacqueline Druga


  I accepted ARC cases on name value, I had to look into it more. It made me rethink things. Look at things differently. In the store I watched people I passed, were they behaving strangely? Did they look lost? Then again, people were rushing because the roads were getting covered in snow.

  A part of me couldn’t wait to get home and get on my computer. The words were larger and not as slow as my phone.

  I picked up stuff to make barbecue chicken, the kids always liked that, Maranda, too.

  The Gallery was dark and I didn’t see Maranda’s car, so I knew she wasn’t back yet.

  Balancing the grocery bags, I made my way up to our home. I had time to get things put away and make a snack for the kids.

  Man, I needed to see my kids.

  I put the bags down, then put away what I wasn’t using right away and checked out the time on my phone, then checked to see if I had a missed call from my wife. It wasn’t like her not to reply. I hated to be a helicopter husband, but I did need to talk to her.

  Just as I was about to call her, my phone rang. A number I didn’t recognize.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Travis?” the woman said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, this is Sadie Reilly.”

  “Oh my gosh, Sadie, I am so sorry. I am. George was a great guy.”

  “Thank you, Travis. They said you were with him.”

  I cringed.

  “I knew something was gonna happen,” she said. “I knew it. I had this weird feeling. He was acting so absent-minded this morning.”

  “Just today?” I asked.

  “He was so scattered brained, I just had a bad feeling. You were there, Travis. Did he suffer? Did he call out for us?” she asked. “I need to know his last words.”

  “Sadie, he was in a state of shock when we found him. I … I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think he was suffering. But … hold on.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the business card “There was a guy there, he actually is a doctor. He went to the hospital with Travis.”

  “Oh, Doctor Yee?”

  “Yes. You met him?”

  “I did. But he didn’t know George like you did, so he was not able to say if George acted different.”

  “Did he tell you George didn’t suffer.”

  “He said that he felt strongly that George wasn’t in pain,” Sadie said. “I just, you know, again, wanted to hear from you because you knew him. And thank you for being there.”

  “You’re welcome, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

  She thanked me. I could only imagine what she was going through. For some reason, I put that card on the fridge under a magnet, not that I would use it again, and I hurriedly started supper and got the popcorn going so the kids had something to munch on.

  I didn’t tell them what happened, just I had some work to do on the computer. After getting them set up with their homework at the kitchen table, I went to the computer in the living room.

  The moment I started looking up ARC-2, I went down the rabbit hole. I took notes on things I read; strange stories people shared on social media. I watched video after video.

  Everyone was an expert and no one knew anything.

  They argued how it spread and if the people that got it, had been inoculated.

  It was strange because there was so much information, yet, everything was vague. The first record case of ARC-2 was in Brussels two months earlier.

  “Dad?” Beau called my name, snapping me out of my research world.

  “Yep? What’s up?”

  “Your timer went off.”

  “Oh, it did?” I turned in the chair and stood. “Thanks. I was all wrapped up. That went by …” I completely froze. “So fast.”

  “Dad?”

  I reached back and grabbed the phone. I had been so busy, I totally didn’t think about the fact that I hadn’t heard from Maranda.

  “Where’s your sister?” I asked.

  “In her room.”

  “Thanks.” I hurried into the kitchen, took the pan out of the oven and shut off the stove. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Beau asked.

  “Down to the gallery, bet your mother just went right to work. She was working on that green painting. I want... I want to get her for dinner.”

  “Okay. You think she’s back from West Raven?”

  “Yeah, she has to be. Set the table,” I instructed, then made it to the back hall. There was a stairwell there that went right down to the gallery.

  I knew a part of me was lying not only to Beau but to myself about Maranda being in the gallery.

  As soon as I made it to the bottom, opened the door and saw it was dark. My fears were confirmed. Maranda hadn’t made it back.

  I flipped the lights on in the gallery, then called as I made my way to the door.

  Her phone went right to voice mail.

  A sickening feeling hit my gut, worsened when I saw it was dark and the snow falling hard.

  I wanted to leave, go look for her, and I would but first I called the Chief. I knew he had patrols, they could help look for her.

  “Loudon, Police Department. This is Chief Fisher speaking,” he answered.

  “Hey Chief, it’s Travis Grady.”

  “Hey, Travis, you hear from that scientist friend of yours?”

  “No, sir, but I have a problem,” I said.

  “What is it?”

  “My wife went to West Raven to drop off a painting this afternoon, she hasn’t come back. I called, but no answer. Now her phone is going straight to voicemail. I’m worried, it looks bad out there.”

  “What time was this?”

  “A little before one,” I replied. “I know, I sound like a horrible husband not calling sooner.”

  “Oh, no. It’s only five-thirty. West Raven has this place called the Rogue. My wife goes there, maybe Maranda met friends for drinks.”

  “Well, she was meeting a friend from here to drop off a painting. I mean she just moved there so, Maranda may be catching up.”

  “There you go,” Chief Fisher said. “I wouldn’t be worried. Who was it?”

  “Mary Wells.”

  Silence.

  “She said Mary commissioned her to do a painting of her mother, and Maranda went to drop it off at her new house. In fact …”

  “Travis.”

  I turned around. “I see a blank spot. That must have been the painting.”

  “Travis …”

  “I thought that painting was here a long time. Guess I was wrong.”

  “It was,” Chief Fisher said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Travis, did Maranda tell you this?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “I knew the name sounded familiar. It’s not like me to forget things, but I guess …”

  “Travis, Mary Wells died four years ago. The day she moved from town she was killed in that accident on Seventy-Five.”

  “Oh my God, I remember that. I remember Maranda hanging that painting after she died. It didn’t register.”

  “No, because it was four years ago,” Chief Fisher said.

  Was it me? Immediately, I panicked. What if I wasn’t remembering? What if Maranda told me something totally different? I rushed to the appointment book at the desk in the gallery.

  “Travis, you there? You want me to start looking and get in touch with West Raven?”

  I flipped open the book, and sure enough written under today’s date, in Maranda’s handwriting was, ‘Mary Wells, One-Thirty.’.

  I got sick, immediately sick. “Yeah, Chief, please,” I said. “Help me find my wife.”

  SIX – INSIGHTS

  One of the hardest things I had to do was pretend everything was alright, when I knew it wasn’t. Putting on a front for my kids was nothing but lying. As the unexpected snow fell harder and faster, it increasingly became more difficult to hide my concern.

  My wife had not returned, and I couldn’t help b
ut think her missing had much to do with her memory lapses that had started earlier in the day.

  Maybe they started before that and I just didn’t notice.

  Visions of George and his arm extended into that vat of hot grease played over in my mind. I couldn’t shake the worst case scenarios that I envisioned about wife.

  I served my children dinner, while watching my phone for any messages or texts. Finally, after the dishes were tossed in the sink and I got Daisy settled some, I told Beau what was going on.

  Chief Fisher, two squad cars and a West Raven officer were out there looking. It was three hours since I called the chief and still nothing.

  I relented.

  Knowing no one would make it out in the weather, I asked Chief Fisher to help me find someone to sit with the kids while I went out and helped in the search.

  He didn’t think I needed to, but understood. The Chief’s own sister came to my home to be there, while I went out.

  I told Beau I would call him and let him know what was going on.

  Then I drove.

  No radio, I had to focus, look around.

  The snow blocked out the sounds of the world, adding a hypnotic quiet to the night. The only sounds were my tires crunching against the snow and the blade swiping the thick flakes from my windshield.

  My destination wasn’t West Raven, it was east.

  We all assumed that was where she went, but if Maranda had lost touch with reality, then surely she lost touch with her sense of direction.

  I drove on the secondary route, despite it not having been cleared or treated by crews. It was the most direct way out Loudon and to the next town.

  I made it there and back, not seeing anything or even a car on the road. Not even a mile away from Loudon, my phone rang, causing me to jump from my skin.

  I was focused on driving, so I didn’t look at who was calling, I just answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Travis, this is Chief Fisher.”

  Something about his voice scared me. “Tell me she’s alive.”

  “She … she is,” he replied. “Travis, where are you at now?”

  “Almost back in town. I just passed Reilly’s.”

  “Good. I need you to come to Weatherby’s. You’ll be here before the ambulance.”

  “Ambulance …”

  “She’s fine, Travis. It’s just … it’s too hard to explain.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” I hung up knowing it wouldn’t take long to get there. Weatherby’s was one of those mega pharmacy stores. It was a few blocks away, a standalone building with a large parking lot. What was she doing there? Did she think the store was open? There were a ton of questions that would be answered shortly.

  The store was dark when I pulled up, just the standard exterior spotlights above the door. I could see the flashing red and blue lights coming from behind the building. The lights of the police were reflecting off the glaze of snow.

  I pulled around to the back, sure enough Maranda’s car was there, it was completely snow covered with the exception of a spot cleared on the windshield. The clearing of snow looked as if it were done by a hand. Two squad cars were also there. Angie, one of our officers in town stood by Maranda’s car and Chief Fisher walked to me as I stopped my truck.

  Leaving it running, I got out. “What’s going on?”

  “Angie spotted the car, I don’t know how. It’s not running, she won’t start it. She won’t get out,” Chief Fisher said. “We’ve asked.”

  “I don’t … I don’t understand.”

  “Talk to her. The ambulance will be here in a minute.”

  I nodded and made my way to the car.

  “Hey, Maranda,” Officer Angie said when I made my approach. “Look who’s here.”

  I said a soft, “Thank you,” to the officer and moved closer to the open car window.

  If she was fine, I didn’t understand why the ambulance had to be called until I saw her in the car.

  She was pasty white and her lips were blue and her eyes had this glassy look to them.

  Angie cleared her throat. “She’s clearly hypothermic. She stopped shivering. She won’t let me touch her to check her vitals.”

  “Maranda,” I said, speaking directly into the window as I reached for the car handle. “Hey, sweetie. Want to open the door?”

  “Don’t’ be silly, Travis, there’s no need. Can you tell the police officers I am fine? I’m not doing anything illegal,” Maranda replied.

  “Maranda, it’s awfully cold. At least start the car.”

  “No.”

  “Maranda, what’s going on?”

  “Oh my God,” she said agitated. “I am back here because I am waiting until I see Brandy Thomas pull out.”

  “What?”

  “I stopped for cigarette’s Travis. Okay? I didn’t want you to know and if she saw me, I am sure she would have told you. So I’m just waiting for her to leave the store, get my smokes, and then deliver this painting to Mary.”

  “I get that,” Travis said. “And Brandy can be a big mouth. But it’s awfully …”

  “Why is there an ambulance here?” she asked, looking at Angie. “Officer is someone hurt?”

  “Maranda,” I spoke calmly. “It’s here for you. You’ve been out here a long time in the cold.”

  “Oh, nonsense, just a few ….” Her eyes shifted. “Is it dark out? How can it be dark?”

  “Unlock the door, Maranda,” I told her.

  “Travis, what is going on?” she asked.

  “Unlock it, please.”

  “No, I don’t understand.”

  I didn’t wait any longer, the open space of the window was wide enough for me to place my arm through. I did and reached down for the lock. I felt her hand fighting my searching fingers as she screamed at me to stop.

  Then just as I touched the lock buttons, the window wound up. I hit the lock as the edge of the window jammed below my armpit. Hearing the shift of the lock and before she could lock it again, I grabbed the handle with my free hand and opened the door.

  Angie raced forward, grabbing for her.

  Door alarm dinging from the keys in the ignition, Maranda screamed when Angie and one of the paramedics reached for her.

  She was out of control, as if strangers were abducting her. I couldn’t move or help, I had to just stand by, arm trapped in the window, until they were clear enough with her for me to reach around and lower the window.

  I didn’t understand why she was so out of control. Not only screaming my name, but adding that she hated me.

  Without a doubt it was a breakdown of sorts.

  It took the Chief, Angie and both paramedics to get her into one of those ambulance stretcher chairs and strap her in.

  She didn’t stop fighting nor screaming even as they loaded her in the ambulance.

  The EMT told me they were taking her to Loudon Medical, our small local hospital.

  Loudon Medical was good for injuries and minor things, but I wasn’t sure it was the right place to take Maranda.

  I thanked the Chief and Angie, then followed the ambulance.

  At the very least we had found her and Maranda was safe.

  <><><><>

  As I suspected, Loudon Medical wasn’t the place for her and the attending physician told me that right away. Yet, I wasn’t able to see her or talk to her, they wanted one more evaluation and then they were going to move her.

  They had given her a mild sedative and asked if I could wait to sign some papers for the transfer.

  I assumed it was Knoxville, and needed to make arrangements for the kids. As much as I loved my wife, I couldn’t leave the kids at home with the Chief’s sister, so I called my own mom, woke her up and tried my best to explain what was going on. She lived in Sweetwater, it wasn’t that far and I made plans to get the kids to her the next day.

  That was the plan.

  I had already been at the hospital for two hours, I needed to get to my kids.

&nb
sp; Chief Fisher stopped in to see me before he went home for the night, I told him I was very grateful and told I’d relieve his sister as soon as I was done.

  While we finished our conversation, the attending ER doctor along with some woman, called for me and brought me into a back office.

  The ER doctor introduced the woman, Barbara, as a nurse practitioner, from Mobile Crisis. It didn’t register what that meant, because I was stuck on the word ‘crisis’.

  “Mr. Grady,” Barbara said. “Your wife is coming out of sedation. I had a chance to speak to her briefly, but going by what Doctor Walters has told me, could you answer some questions for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you have any knowledge of your wife using a controlled substance, or having a drug problem?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I told the doctor here the same thing. She has a few drinks. But doesn’t do drugs. I am certain if you run a drug test you’ll see that.”

  “Has she exhibited any odd behavior lately?” Barbara asked.

  “Well, other than claiming she makes breakfast every day, delivering a painting to a dead woman, then sitting in a parking lot for ten hours, no.”

  Barbara looked at Doctor Walters. “Mr. Grady, we want to transport your wife to Peninsula Hospital. My job with Mobile Crisis …”

  That’s when it hit me. “Wait. A psychiatric hospital?” I asked.

  Barbara nodded. “Yes.”

  “My wife doesn’t need a psychiatric hospital.”

  “Mr. Grady, she does,” Barbara replied. “We are certain she is having a crisis and needs further evaluation.”

  “Yeah, medical,” I said.

  “Peninsula is capable of running all necessary medical testing to rule out …”

  “Can you test for ARC-2?” I asked.

  Doctor Walters spoke up. “ARC-2? You think your wife has ARC 2?”

  “I do. I feel it,” I said.

  “Even though I highly doubt she has ARC-2, they can do testing at Peninsula,” Doctor Walters said.

  “And treat her?” I asked. “Because if she has it, she needs treatment.”

  “Mr. Grady,” Barbara spoke up. “ARC is very rare, and even if she has it, we could treat it, but … knowing ARC and what it does, how if effects the ability for individuals to operate normally … seeing your wife’s behavior, Peninsula is the best place for your wife until this crisis is over.”

 

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