Chapter 56

word count 1460

The nurse had helped both Jeannie and Buzz into chairs side by side.  And now, the two watched TV just like at home.

"So these are soap operas, huh? I dunno," Buzz said. "There's an awful lot of crying, isn't there? I'm just not used to being away from work and looking at TV during the day."

"Oh, I'm sure there is something here for you to like," Jeannie said. Clicking furiously, she used her remote to surf through the channels. "Let's see...oh! How 'bout this soap, Buzz!"

He spied a bedroom scene and leaned forward in the chair. Sultry music filled his earphone and the scene on TV caught his attention. "Now this is interesting!"

"Soaps always have a little spice, dear!" Jeannie said it matter-of-factly as she laid the remote down and settled in to watch.

"Hmmph!"

Buzz's eyes remained riveted to the screen.  He didn't notice Hank Bower walk in. Jeannie saw him first.

"Hank, how are you?"

"A better question is how are you? I went to the ICU first, and they told me you were transferred to a semi-private room...Hi, boss!" He waved a hand at Buzz.

"Bower!" Buzz responded while grappling for the remote to demolish the embarrassing soap opera on the screen.

"Hank, I've missed seeing you! I used to enjoy our daily rides for therapy." Jeannie's face had brightened up considerably as soon as Hank entered the room. Now she smiled nonstop.

"I missed them, too! You look wonderful. I'm so glad I decided to stop by." Hank pulled over a chair and sat next to Jeannie. He took her hands in his.

Buzz watched their interaction in annoyance. Since when did Jeannie get so happy to see another man? And since when was Hank Bower Mr. Congeniality? Where was that detective who always used few words, mostly grunts, and was all business? What in the world had been going on between these two during those rides everyday anyway?

But before he had time to finish the thought, Trudy popped her head in the door, red lips pursed and earrings jangling. As soon as he saw her, he exploded.

"Did they REALLY let you back in this hospital?" he roared.

Hank and Jeannie looked up in surprise, but Trudy was the most alarmed of all. Buzz's reaction had been like a volcano erupting. Her face registered pain.

"Look, Buzz, I was drunk. I don't even remember what I did, but I came to apologize to ya...and to Jeannie."

Jeannie, ever gracious, spoke first. "Of course, we accept your apology, dear!"

"You still haven't explained how you got past security to wander around the hospital?" Buzz sat back waiting for an answer, clenching  his fists.

Trudy gushed, then stammered, "Well, I came with a companion that made it okay."

She took two steps into the room and dragged in a surprised Gil right behind her. Guilt dressed both their faces. Gil stared at the back wall and Trudy studied her fingernails. The cop issued a lame greeting, mumbled so low no one could understand.

"Gil! What the...?" Hank stammered. “Why are you with Trudy? And why do you look so guilty?”

Buzz grabbed both arms of his chair and tried to get up. Both men lunged to stop him.

"Boss, you can't get up yet!"

"Sit down, boss!"

"What the hell is going on here? Bettencourt, what the fuck?"

"BUZZ!!!! Your language!" Jeannie broke in.

"Sorry," he murmured and backed off. But he was not happy. Here he was, laid up with injuries, and his assistants were making time with not only his wife, but his girl friend. Who could you trust? His better angel whispered in the back of mind, pleading--Buzz, you're devoted to your wife now, so forget about Trudy. And Jeannie loves you. Don't forget that! But Buzz kicked aside his silly conscience. No matter what, he was perturbed, dammit!

***

Jake Leichtenstein found a seat in the back of the bus choosing one deliberately so no one was seated near him. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out all the money he could find--two quarters and a few smaller coins, a five spot, and four crinkled ones. Crap, he could starve to death at this rate, especially if he wanted to buy a couple more beers. He'd have to find a safe street corner and get pan-handling. But for now, he needed to lie low. Leaning back in the seat, he got comfortable, idly looking through the grimy window while he decided whether to stay awake or grab a nap.

The rickety bus took every bump in the road, flipping him around on the seat every time it hit a pot hole. And the smell on the vehicle was unbelievable. It brought back remembrances of his abandoned truck and “it.” Bile seeped up in his throat.

He doubted he could sleep, so he gazed out the window instead. The conveyance rumbled along cobblestone streets in neighborhoods with old, old housing, falling apart, covered in grit. Grubby kids ran along the bus, tossing stones that smacked against the metal vehicle while they yelled expletives. A block away, he could still hear their voices.

"Quite a vocabulary!" Jake muttered.

Judging by the amount of grit and the black dust he found on the bus seat, Jake surmised an industry of some sort was along the route. Sure enough, the next stop was a mill.

A row of weary looking men toting lunch pails entered the bus and, with empty eyes staring straight ahead, they headed in a straight line toward the back, an obvious regular routine.  As luck would have it, they took seats all around him, filling the back of the bus. To his horror, a flabby worker with rolls of fat bouncing like Jello across his torso stopped, poised, then plopped down none too graciously onto the other half of Jake’s seat, his bulging frame in the process ramming against him. Jake squirmed. He didn't like to be this close to people. The next thing he knew, the giant man nodded off and  started emitting hollow snores from his gaping mouth. Enough! Jake kicked him and plowed over the startled guy to get to the aisle.

He got off the bus at the next stop, letting out a relaxed sigh to be free and out in the fresh air again. Turning on his heel, he surveyed his surroundings and saw he'd landed in a putrid, rundown neighborhood. Unfortunate! Because the pan-handling wouldn't do much here. No one had any money. In fact, it could be dangerous to travel alone on streets like this. Assuming a posture of high alert, he started down the block looking for a place to take refuge. He made a decision. As soon as he could, he needed to catch another bus out of here.

He came upon a church and walked in a quick sprint up to the middle doors, looked around, then slumped down to sit in the doorway. Surely no one would mug a guy in a church doorway. At least he didn't have to watch in all directions. Postured against the door, he only needed to look straight ahead to keep watch. He scrunched down and got more comfortable, but soon his eyelids got heavy. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while. The streets were empty as he kept watch, nothing to keep his attention. It wasn't long until he fell asleep.

He wasn't sure what woke him up. But when he opened his eyes, a bedraggled homeless woman stood in front of him studying him with curious eyes like hollow black beads. He was certain he was face to face, eyeball to eyeball, staring at insanity. The eyes registered a bizarre perception and a frightening unpredictability, tempered by no social proclivity or logic.

 A shopping cart rested behind her, filled to brimming with assorted junk including a couple soiled blouses protruding from heap, an occasional shoe, and some packages of chocolate creme-filled Oreo cookies.

"Well, aren't you the most handsome thing?" she said.

Jake cringed. The ogre-like woman was the thing of nightmares. Only four or five yellow teeth remained, painfully visible when she smiled. Her face, her hands, her clothes were all grimy, and the stench! All that, and her hair was a hopeless bird's nest. A filthy hat perched on top, and when she talked, it bobbled up and down. It looked like something from the fifties, with black netting flying loose around it, and a black fabric rose adorning off center in the front.

"Hi, honey! My name is Sadie!" she said. "You're gonna be awfully glad you met me!"