Among the Ducklings (3 page)

“I really
wished the county would install more lights on this road,” Richard said,
squinting
his eyes.

“Try to
slow down. The road is very wet,” Isabel warned him.

“Don't be a
backseat driver. You'll be home soon. I promise,” he said. “By the way,
are we still having lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes, at
11:30, after Mass,” Isabel replied. “Rebecca is coming too.”

“Good. I
can't wait. I've not had Latin food in two days,” Richard said, prompting a
laugh from Isabel.

"Between
you and me, I am no longer sure who has the Cuban heritage.”

As the car
was approaching Bird Road, it looked as if the car had picked up speed. When
the car reached the middle of the Bird Road intersection, Isabel, who was
looking above at the blinking lights, turned towards Richard as Richard was
describing a new restaurant that he found.

“I found
this great Cuban place in Coconut Grove. It’s not fancy.....”

It was as
if time had gone into a slow motion. On Richard's left side, coming at full
speed, was a large vehicle which was about to violently ram their car.

Isabel
could not see the shape of the vehicle, only its largeness and two menacing
lights. The lights were round, bright, big and getting bigger as the space
between the two vehicles was being devoured by what appeared to Isabel to be a
huge truck. It only took a few seconds. But to Isabel, it seemed an eternity.

She
screamed.

Loud
impact.

Metal
against metal.

In a flash,
Richard's Acura flew into a tail spin, violently flipping across the road. The
sound of screeching metal and screams could be heard for miles, while flickers
of fires popped every time the car hit the pavement during each flip. The scent
of gas, burnt rubber and metal permeated the air as the spin finally and slowly
stopped, with the car landing upside down, several feet into the eastern side
of Bird Road.

Incredibly,
Isabel, who was still restrained by her seat belt, was not feeling any pain.
She could feel the blood and its wetness on her blouse. She turned and called
Richard's name, but Richard did not respond. She then heard sounds of feet
running toward the car as her eyes began to fail her. She managed to call
Richard's name one last time, before everything went black.

##

It took Dr.
Gomez ten minutes to reach her beachfront condominium unit on Saint Augustine
Beach. The distance between the hospital and her condo was about five minutes.
However, she was not in a hurry tonight. She felt that this weekend was a lucky
weekend for her. She stopped at a gas station adjacent to the only Supermarket
in the beach town and bought a lottery ticket. She didn't believe that she
would win. But with her good luck today, why take a chance by not buying.

The
condominium development where she lived consisted of ten condominium buildings.
Each building was four stories high and had at least fifteen individual units.
Dr
Gomez's condominium building sat in the back of the
development. When she reached her building, the parking lot was almost empty
and she knew why. It was Saint Augustine after all, and on Saturday nights,
there was always a party to go to, a new drink to try, and a new blind date to
meet.

When she
entered her fourth-floor two bedroom condo, the smell of the ocean coming from
the screened balcony reminded her of Miami. It was March, and she had left the
door to the balcony open before going to work.
It was also a cool night and she could hear the battle cry of the ocean as its
waves invaded the sea shore in its perpetual fight to occupy the dunes.

She then
poured herself a glass of red wine and stepped out onto the balcony. There was
no horizon to see. At 10:00 pm, the beach was dark. But far away in the middle
of the ocean, she could see a speck of light moving like a lone firefly in the middle
of a large and distant field. It could have been a shrimp boat. However, to Dr.
Gomez, it was a glimmer of hope, a sign that confirmed that what she was about
to do was right. She was on the right path.

Dr. Gomez
knew that she had to break up the relationship between Isabel, her niece, and
Richard. Until today, she didn't know how to do it without telling Isabel about
what she found out about Richard. All she wanted for Isabel was what she never
got from her marriage to her ex-husband: happiness. She knew that her plan had
only a very small chance of success. However, that's all she needed. Phil did
not know it yet but he was part of the equation.

Suddenly,
the phone rang and she knew it was her friend Grace who lived next door. She
always called at this time to make sure Marcia got home safe. She picked up and
said, “Hi Grace.”

“Hi
Marcia.
How did
you know it was me?” Grace asked.

“Because
you call me at this time every night,” Marcia answered.

“How was
your day at the hospital?”

“Better
than it has been in a long time.”

“Did
something happen to make it better?” Grace asked. Grace was a widow, in her
early eighties. She was a former bank executive and married well. She was very
sharp and liked to sleep during the day and stay awake at night. She was like a
vampire without the bite or the sunlight problem.

“First of
all, it was my last day at the hospital today. Second, I met someone that I
plan for Isabel to meet. His name is Phil,” she said.

“What do
you know about that guy Phil?” Grace asked.

“More than
he knows that I know,” Marcia replied. “I had an interesting conversation with
his friend who filled out his admission application.”

“You mean
,
he was a patient in the hospital?” Grace asked, surprised.
“I’m not sure about this. Do you know anything about him? Even if Isabel
believed your story about Richard...”

“I don't
plan to tell Isabel about Richard,” Marcia interrupted her.

“If you
don't, who will?” Grace asked.

“I know Isabel.
She would not be happy if she knew what I did to find out about the blond woman
that Richard was with that night,” Marcia said.

“OK, but
don't go pulling any stunts like you did to your ex,” Grace pleaded. Grace's
last statement made Marcia smile. Two months after Peter, her husband, left her
for Janet, their neighbor, when she was living in Miami, Marcia met both of
them at a store one day. Janet, being rude as usual, came over and asked Marcia
if she was well, because she seemed to have gained a lot of weight.

“I know.
Years of AIDS medication do that,” Marcia had replied.

Weeks
later, she heard that they had broken up.

##

What did
she really know about Phil? Although she had read his file, everything she knew
about Phil's personal life came from his friend Jeremy, who blamed himself for
Phil's injury.

“It was a
stupid game,” Jeremy told her when she was asking about the injury. “We both
jumped and somehow, I pushed him, causing him to fall the way he did.”

“Does he
have any relatives we could notify?” Marcia had asked.

“Not
really. I am his best friend. He grew up in an orphanage,” Jeremy had answered.

“Is there
anything else you can tell me about Mr. Pierce? Blood type, allergies?” Marcia
had asked Jeremy.

“I don't
know Phil's blood type,” Jeremy had answered Marcia, as he began to tell her
about Phil. “We met eleven years ago at Florida Atlantic University. When we
met, Phil was finishing his PhD in Economics and I was getting my Masters in
Accounting. We both then went to law school at the University of Miami. With
his background in Law and Economics, he decided to become a trial expert on
loss of life issues, and opened his own consulting firm.”

“Is he
married?” Marcia had asked.

“No,”
Jeremy had responded. “He was engaged once but she left him three years ago to
pursue a modeling career in California and never came back. Is he going to be
OK?”

“We hope
so,” Marcia had answered.

“Do your
best for him. He is the most wonderful person you will ever meet.”

“We will,
and thank you.”

“No
problem,” Jeremy had responded.

“Marcia,
are you there?” Grace asked.

“Of course
I am,” Marcia replied, getting back to the conversation.

“For one
moment, I thought you hung up.”
“I'm just tired, Grace. I think I'll go to bed.”

“Good
night, Marcia.”

“Bye.” And
they both hung up.

##

When the
call came about a vehicle on fire on Bird Road, Bertrand
Eveque
,
the Deputy Chief of the Miami-Dade County Fire Rescue Department, was on a
phone call with his second wife, Elise. The first Haitian-American to reach
that position, he prided himself on having good instincts and for being able to
survive twenty-nine and a half years in the Department, the last years in a
position as political as City Hall itself. In his job, he had to wage battle
with the City Manager and the Mayor in his drive to secure funding for the
Department and bring more minorities like him into the force. As he looked
towards his retirement in less than six months, he would leave behind a
department that was more professional and diverse than at the time he started
in the job right out of college. Now at 52 years old, he was looking toward
spending more time with Elise, whom he met at church five years before, and to
teachings some classes to supplement his retirement income.

“Don't
forget to stop by the store when you leave work in the morning. We ran out of
eggs and I have to prepare a casserole to bring to Sunday school,” Elise was
saying. Their church had been losing members for the past two years and the
church elders had started a program where the church would feed breakfast to
its members during Sunday school to encourage tired parents to come with their
kids. Some of the leaders of the church, like Elise and Bertrand, were given
certain cooking tasks, which they gladly accepted.
“Sure, honey. Anything else you need?” He asked.

“That's
it,” she replied.

“OK, I've
got to go. I love you.”

“I love you
too.”

As he hung
up, the fire trucks were already leaving the Department with eardrum busting
sirens. In his position, he no longer had to go to each fire scene anymore.
That was what his captains were for. His job duties were more like pushing
paperwork, doing fire drill shows for kids, and making speeches at schools and
charity events. Some nights, he would decide to drive to the fire scene in his
county-issued SUV, another luxury in his position, to ensure that the captain
supervising the crew was doing his or her job, and to chase away news reporters
who always wanted to be in on the action. When he got into the vehicle that
night, the rain had already stopped and it took him less than ten minutes to
reach the accident scene.

When
Bertrand arrived, it seemed like all law enforcement and emergency personnel
were there, with their lights flashing and illuminating the entire street
corner, as if this was a neighborhood Christmas party.
When she saw him get out, Samantha, his tough-as-nails captain, walked up to
him and said: “There was not much fire when we got here. The rain was a big
help tonight.”
 
Whatever Samantha missed
in looks she made it up in brains. She was the smartest and toughest of all of
the captains and sometime Bertrand wondered whether any of the male captains
could out bench-press her.

“What
happened?” Bertrand asked.

“Looks like
some kids were drinking and apparently ran a red light and struck this Acura,”
Samantha said, pointing to the mangled piece of metal.

“Is
everyone OK?” Bertrand asked.

“I spoke to
the EMS crew. One kid died at the scene after being thrown out of the truck.
Looks like he was not wearing his seat belt.
They just took
a young woman to Baptist Hospital but they don't believe that she will make it.
The man driving the Acura had only minor scratches and should be OK.”

As Samantha
described the rescue efforts, Bertrand realized how lucky he was tonight. God
had given him a second chance at happiness after his first failed marriage.
Tonight a teen and a young woman will never go home. Him, he would not only go
home, but he would go home to a place where there was love, a place where there
was Elise.

Chapter
Three

Marcia was
already in a deep sleep, when the phone on her night table began ringing. “What
now?” she said to herself, scrambling to find the lamp in the dark.
 
By the time she turned on the lamp and
grabbed the phone, she was wide awake.