Arizona Allspice (7 page)

My hands rise to my chest above my pulsing heart and my eyes brim with moisture. It hits me hard: the thought, the possibility. Joey Kinsley, so vibrant and strong, a fire, both intimidating and warm, who stood up for my family, may not be there, may not be here. He might not have survived this thing that happened to us. Because of some stupid fight, over something I won’t know until I can talk to Manny. And Manny won’t be there, won’t be here, if Joey’s gone. Manny could go to prison for the rest of his life. This isn’t how our separation was supposed to happen.

Finally, I breathe again. I have to get myself together. I can’t give up on this. I can’t assume the worst and be defeated. Just because I lost my mother here in this hospital doesn’t mean that history has to repeat itself. Joey doesn’t have to leave this earth and Manny doesn’t have to leave me.  I push myself from the pillar and somehow my weak legs carry me down the hall following the doctor’s fluttering white cape and swinging ponytail.  Everything is in slow motion; my breathing, the hospital staff walking up and down, my hand reaching out, until I have him by the shoulder and time abruptly quickens to normal speed as he turned around.

“Doctor,” I whisper.

His head tilts to the right. “Can I help you?” His green eyes look me up and down for any wounds, abrasions, bruises, and then settled on my swollen lip. My hand moves to cover the side of my mouth. My fingertips brush along it and I am reminded of Joey’s hand at my face, so apologetic.

“Joey…Is Joey Kinsley all right?”

“I’m sorry I can’t talk about the details of a patient unless you’re a relation.”

“Well, I’m his girlfriend,” I lie.

“Immediate relation.
His mother is sitting in the waiting room. You can speak with her if you want.”

“No, I can’t,” I plead. I can’t talk to his mother. I have no idea what she’s heard about the accident and my brother’s involvement. She might rip me to shreds if Joey’s temper is at all inherited. “She doesn’t approve of our relationship; you know, because of what, uh, color I am.” The doctor frowns. I glance at his name tag. “Dr. Rice, I just need to know if he’s alive. Please!”

Dr. Rice squints at me from behind his glasses and then looks over my head to the nurses and doctors walking around. Then he grasps my shoulder and bends to speak softly into my ear. “He’s alive but in critical condition. His head injury caused a lot of swelling and intra-cranial pressure. We decided it was best to put him into a barbiturate-induced coma to slow blood flow and swelling and hopefully prevent any further damage to the brain.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “Okay. Um, how long do you think he’ll be in the coma?” I whisper.

“It could be anywhere from a few days to a week or two.”

“Thank you, doctor,” I said, half relieved, half disappointed.

He gives a warm squeeze to my arm, says “Good luck,” and walks away. I don’t know if I have two weeks to wait on Joey. It occurred to me that I could wait two weeks for him to be taken out of his coma, two weeks would pass with Manny in legal trouble, and Joey could wake up and not remember. Even worse, he could wake up still angry. He could give the police a statement against Manny and seal my brother’s fate in court. There is nothing left for me to do but wait. I’ll be in this hospital every day until he wakes up. I swear to be the first person Joey sees when his blue eyes open to the world. But, I have other responsibilities that can’t wait: Detective Lansbury.

******

The coffee they’d given me was cold and strangely gritty. I push the Styrofoam cup away and shift my weight around in my seat in some attempt to make the metal folding chair comfortable. The door knob turns and the two walk in.

“Good evening Elaine, I’m Sergeant Ross and you already know Detective Lansbury here,” he smiles, the fluorescent light’s reflection shining from the top of his naked brown head. I nod in response. “We understand this is a hard situation for you right now. In order for us to help your brother and your father we need you to tell us exactly what happened this afternoon.” I retell the fight to them, but they are skeptical. They ask why Raul gave them a different statement when he had no reason to lie. I explain that Raul’s motive for lying was me and start some questioning of my own.

 “When do I get to see my brother and father?”

“You’ll hear from them,” Lansbury dismisses.

“Listen lady. I know you do this job day in and day out but this is my life, this is my family we’re talking about! If you don’t tell me exactly what is going to happen to them I will not hesitate to report you to your police chief or all the news stations in Arizona or to your own damn mother-in-law if I have to. You don’t have the right to do this to me.”

Detective Lansbury rolls her eyes. “Like I said, you’ll hear from him.”

My boot makes a soft sound against the floor as my foot taps. My eyes pierce into hers. “My mother is gone and that piece will never be replaced. Then Raul took a little piece. And now…now you’re trying to take all that’s left of me. I might as well be dead. Do you understand? If I don’t have my brother and my father and, and Joey doesn’t get better then I’m nothing, okay?”

Detective Lansbury glances at Sergeant Ross then softly clears her throat. “Your brother and your father are both in custody. We understand that your father has a mental illness that led him to assault the officer and he was set to be released without any charges but he was very uncooperative once inside the station. We had the Psychiatric Emergency Services Unit take him into a mental hospital. Technically Mr. Roberts is still in our custody, but as I said we don’t plan to press charges.”

My mouth went dry and a lump formed in my throat.
“Which hospital?
I need to get him out of there now.”

“Palo Verde, but they aren’t going to release him until he’s been evaluated by at least two psychiatrists. You’ll have to wait until the other doctor comes in tomorrow and then you can go from there. I think you should focus on Emanuel at this point. There’s nothing you can do about your father at the moment.”

“And Manny?”

“Right now he’s being held on battery charges. Joey’s recovery will decide if it will be a misdemeanor or felony battery charge. We spoke to his mother and she’s also considered pressing assault and battery charges in civil court. We’re keeping him here until a bond is set.”

 “How long will that take?”

“At his initial appearance in court tomorrow morning the judge will review the case and any priors Emanuel may have in order to determine the amount of his bond.”

“Manny is a good person. He’s never been in any trouble like this before.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” adds Ross.

******

 An annoying dinging sound bursts into my thoughts. I take my eyes off the darkness of the road being punctured by the truck’s high beams and peer down at the dash display. The urgent red light of the fuel indicator blinks up at me. The truck was running on empty and I was miles away from town. I just want to go home, even though it’s empty as the gas tank. I need to be around my things, my father’s things and Manny’s things. I consider stopping at the very next gas station but I press on, determined to make it into town.

 As I drive up to Mr. Jeremy’s convenience store I feel the truck’s engine shut off. Luckily, I maneuver the truck by rolling into the space with the bit of momentum it has left. I reach my hand into my bag and pull out my wallet. It’s empty. I forgot to cash Manny’s check this afternoon, or yesterday afternoon given that it was already 1:30 AM. That check was sitting at home on my night stand. I don’t even allow myself time to dwell on the calamity of my life. I start searching through every compartment in the truck because there has to be some emergency money stashed somewhere. A crumpled five dollar bill is under the passenger seat. I kiss the crumpled dusty bill and hop out of the truck to give the money to the clerk at the counter inside.

“How
ya
doin
’?”

“I just ran out of gas actually. I almost had to get out and push my truck over here.” I give a small smile.

The clerk raises her eyebrows and laughs. “Aren’t you lucky? You must have a guardian angel.”

Frowning at her statement, I hand the clerk the five dollar bill. I don’t believe in guardian angels. I glance around the shop, at the Danishes and donuts I want but can’t buy. I haven’t eaten anything since my late breakfast. At a table by the deli, Raul sits with his head down. All I saw was his hair and I knew it was him. “What is he doing here?” I whisper to the clerk accusatorily.

“He came in and bought a few beers and then fell asleep at the table. He looked so sad and pathetic I figured I’d just let him have a drink and get some rest,” she defends, knowing that she served alcohol to someone underage.

I walk over to his unmoving form. His face is buried in the crook of his folded arms. I thought he was wearing brass knuckles on his hand until I neared. He has rings on each of his fingers. I find myself drawn to him, despite his lies, I am pulled to him. Maybe it will always be that way; I’ll always be drawn in, wanting answers, wanting a return to what we were, wanting to comfort him and find comfort.

I slide into the booth beside him and nestle the side of my body into his, feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent of Irish Spring, Old Spice, and a hint of the beer. He doesn’t stir, his only movement the rise of his torso with breathing. I run my fingers through his hair and watch the jet black strands slip through my hand. It’s hypnotic to watch it slip away. I run my fingers in his hair again. This time he stirs. His deep brown eyes open and he looks over at me. He rubs his eyes along the black cotton sleeve of his jacket. I scoot away from him to give space between us on the seat. He raises his head and looks back over at me, realizing I’m truly there and not an apparition brought along by dreams or drunkenness.  We speak to each other in low whispers.

“Raul Campos, what happened to you?”

 “You left, that’s what happened.”

“No, I mean before that. When, in two years, did you become this person you never wanted to be?”

He lifts his hand and gently holds my chin. He tilts my head up and to the side, examining my busted lip. “Joey hurt you real bad.”

“Not as bad as how you hurt me. You know that, don’t you?”

He draws back his hand and rubs at his temples staring intently ahead at the empty seat across from us.

“You’re hurting me worse than you’re hurting Manny. You saw that it was an accident. He doesn’t deserve this. He could spend his life in prison for what you said.”

“What about my life without you?”

“I can’t be with you anymore. I sealed up that part of my heart where I once let you in, but I’ll forgive you, as your friend. Just tell the police the truth.”

Raul shakes his head. “Give me another chance.”

“Raul,” I raise my voice, “Does Emanuel deserve to be locked up in the same prison as your father? Is he a wicked man like him?” He chews nervously at the side of his thumb. “Is Manny a heartless monster?”

“Okay,” he mumbles.

“An evil sorry excuse for a father?
An insatiable ghoul who thoughtlessly, repeatedly, took away his child’s innocence?”