Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One (13 page)

Cathy smirked,
raising one eyebrow in a perfect Leonard Nimoy imitation.

I shrugged.
“That’s a lot of weird at one time. No doubts.”

“You
think?”

“As
infrequently as possible.”

Some retorts
are automatic. That’s the trouble with being a smart ass, more
often than not the quips fly faster than wisdom.

“You have to
know this isn’t funny, Joe.”

“Actually it
kinda is.”
“Seriously?” Cathy picked up her notepad again flipping through
further pages of scribbling. “The level of incompetence and double
talk going on within all levels of government - civic and
provincial - that has come to light over this one case is nothing
short of astounding.”

I blinked.

Hadn’t seen
that one coming.

“Uh ….
What?”

She leafed
through her notes, frantically comparing pages as she spoke. “It is
outrageous, Joe. The level to which these bureaucrats are sinking
to in order to obfuscate the issue surrounding what happened with
you.”

“Uh … “ I gave
my small smile to the waitress as she came back to drop off Cathy’s
credit card. She blatantly ignored me and walked away.

“Like
this, listen to this.” Cathy cleared her throat, lost in her train
of thought. I just stared at her. It was like college all over
again. Cathy loved her political cover-ups like a kid loves candy.
Obsessively. “When asked about the discrepancy between the
paramedics equipment maintenance logs and the hospitals’ reaction
to it, the Winnipeg Regional Health Authority Chairman
replied
at present time we are conducting
an internal investigation into the matter and have nothing further
to add to our previous statements
.” She looked up
definitively, like a lawyer to a jury. “Can you believe
that?”

“Well …
An investigation into malfunctions sorta makes sense …
“

“And
this, how about this.” More paper shuffling, more hair tucked
behind one ear. “When asked about the double speak coming out of
the mouths of the WRHA brass the Provincial Minister of Health
Timothy Oswald replied
we have the utmost
confidence in the efficacy of the audit to be provided by the WRHA
and look forward to releasing their findings
.” Cathy
actually flicked at the quotation with her fingers, disgustedly
accenting her point.

“I don’t know,
Cathy. What do you expect the Minister to say about a crew of
people he helped hire for the job?”

“It is just so
mental!” Her eyes were ablaze. Cathy had a full blown political
scandal in her hands and wasn’t ready to let it go. “How many
horrible accidents does it take in one incident to show how
incredibly corrupt the hospital and the WRHA is?”

“Uhm … “

“There’s
clearly a cover up in process. I have heard reports that right
after the last election a small electrical firm was used to update
and rewire the hospitals in Manitoba. The selection process was not
done in the usual manner. Questions of biased selection, palms
greased.” Cathy shook her head, pronouncing judgment. “It is a real
problem, Joe. Worse than I had ever imagined.”

I nodded. After
an emotional and clearly passionate outburst like that, I’m not
sure there was any other response I could make.

Cathy looked at
me expectantly.

Apparently she
was looking for another response.

Come on, Joe.
Think.

“So …
What’s that got to do with me?”

Cathy continued
to stare at me for a moment. Then she eventually sighed, putting
down her notepad and looking conflicted.

I waited her
out.

When she spoke,
her voice was quiet and almost resentful. “My boss,” Cathy muttered
sourly. “My boss isn’t interested in the weather girl’s conspiracy
theories.” She actually used air quotes around those last two
words. Her eyes darkened a bit and looked away. “He’s too busy
trying to make certain the station continues to receive sponsorship
dollars from all the government agencies that advertise on our news
programs that he’s ruining the integrity of the entire industry.
The evidence is as plain as day when you bother to look at the
facts as opposed to what is put out in the Press Releases. Every
day there’s a new private deal being done without proper public
consultation and taxpayers end up paying the price. Sometimes like
it almost was in your case, people pay with their lives.”

I grimaced. And
pointedly did not rub at my now aching scars.

Cathy motioned
out the window, her expression sour. “All across the city, hell
across the province; people are being robbed of their freedom of
expression and democratic rights. The last two provincial elections
were a joke, filled more lies and rhetoric than anything I’ve ever
seen. It was like a U.S. Presidential Race, where whomever has the
most money wins and then spends the rest of their term paying back
the people who paid their way to power.” She stared at the traffic
speeding by. “Unqualified people being put in positions of
authority. Lucrative construction contracts awarded to private
firms that don’t pass a proper vetting process. More and more
taxation tricks and service fees to double dip on the working folk.
Keeping them in line and while the people in power stay in
power.”

That was
something I could relate to. Just thinking about the mountain of
bills and invoices waiting for me on Mom’s kitchen table was enough
to make my head ache. No matter how hard I worked to stay on top of
things I was constantly in debt and unable to get ahead. Even the
thought of switching jobs and going to look for better work was
problematic, knowing that any lapse in income could cost the
mortgage.

“Sure,” Cathy
went on looking back at me. “It’s not all doom and gloom. There are
many worse places in the world with significantly bigger issues.
I’m a proud Canadian and we have a terrific life here overall.” Her
eyes glinted. “But it is the very fact that we live in such a good
country that petty, behind closed doors dealings like this really
upset me. There are people taking advantage of the system that are
in no way accountable for their actions, no matter who gets hurt.
So long as they can smile for the cameras, be seen cutting a few
ribbons or be out and about at some gala fundraiser that costs more
money to put on than it brings in for the people it’s trying to
support …” She trailed off, disgustedly.

“What?” I
prodded.

She
shrugged. “People are being treated like pawns on a chess board.
Disposable. And we in the media are just supposed to turn a blind
eye to it and spout the
everything is
rosy
message.“ Cathy shifted her gaze from my face to
my chest, her lips twisting in anger. “Unless there is a
sensational story we can cover to garner more ratings, thus
justifying higher advertising rates for their commercial
time.”

I blinked.

“I have been
after my boss for months, pitching ideas and leads for stories on
the corruption I have uncovered. Every time he’s shot me down, told
me to ‘sit at the weather desk and look pretty for the camera.’ ”
Cathy looked back up to my face, meeting my eyes. “And then you got
shot in front of me. My boss finds out I was on scene and that I
know you from college. So I’ve been given the opportunity to gain
an exclusive human interest story on the hero bouncer who protected
people from disgruntled and ungrateful aboriginal troublemakers who
don’t toe the line.”

A flush began
to creep up my neck again, heating my face. “ I ain’t no … I just…
“ My throat got stuck and I had to clear it. “Look, I was an idiot.
If I’d been thinking clearly …”

Her fingers
were warm on mine. I blinked, Cathy’s tiny hand gripped mine
softly. Well-manicured and soft fingers on my hairy knuckled,
calloused and chewed fingernail mitts.

“I’m screwing
this all up,” Cathy said quietly. Still holding my hand, giving it
a squeeze. “It’s just … Being this close to the real news and not
being able to actually report on it is so aggravating.”
Something swelled in my gut then. “I get aggravation,” I muttered
darkly, trying to ignore how good her hand felt.

“But that
doesn’t diminish what you did.” Her voice was strong, convinced.
Trying to make me listen. Cathy’s fingers squeezed again. “What you
did was unbelievable, Joe. Dozens of people are alive today because
of your actions.”
It is apparently possible to glow red from embarrassment.

“And no,
this is not how I wanted to reconnect with an old friend. It isn’t
how I want to move on from being the weather girl and advance my
career. But you are a big story, Joe. And there are people in this
city who are interested in what happened to
you.”

Shit.

“I’d love to be
able to tell your story, if you’ll let me.”

Silence.

Delicately I
took Cathy’s fingers off of mine and leaned back in the booth. “I
gotta get home,” I muttered. My face red and the tingle at the back
of my head pretty much gone. My scars and stitches ached like fire.
“My mom is sicker than sick and been on her own for over a
week.”

Cathy’s
expression became disappointed, but tried not to show it. “I
understand, Joe. It’s too much to ask.”

I raised
a hand before she could continue. “She’s been through a lot. And I
don’t want any more stress being piled on her. And I also don’t
want to be the poster boy for
victim of
governmental incompetence
.” I gave her my small smile,
taking any sting out of my words.

Cathy gave me a
small smile back, her face still disappointed. “So what you’re
saying is ...”
“I’ll help you,” I said cutting her off gently. “I promised I would
back at the hospital, and I always keep my promises. So I’ll give
you a proper interview, on camera and everything. Hell, I’ll come
into the studio if you want.”

She blinked.
Surprised.

“I take
it there’s a
but
coming
next.”

“However,
” I continued with my small smile. “I
want you to promise me to try and make the piece as un-sensational
as possible.” I scanned the
Sal’s’
diner quickly. “I don’t want to be a damned local hero. I
don’t want any spotlight. And once this is all over I want to go
back to being left alone.”

We stared at
each other for a long moment.

“Can you do
that for me?”
She nodded. “I can. I promise.”

I nodded in
return.

Cathy slid out
of the booth, putting her notebook in her purse as she stood up. I
followed suit, gathering my coat and my gym bag. We stood there for
a moment, with me towering over her tiny frame.

Cathy touched
my arm gently. Her expression soft. “Thank you.”

I shrugged.
“It’s cool. You can have my fifteen minutes.”
Her fingers squeezed tighter. “No, for the other night. At the
club.”

“Oh,” I said
stupidly. Feeling like a nimrod. “Well, you know … What else was I
gonna do?”

Cathy smiled.
“I’ll talk to my boss and set up a time to talk about that in
studio.”

Great.

Chapter
11

“Joseph Alan
Donovan, you sit at that table and do not move a muscle!”

“Please Mom,
you gotta sit down.”

“You stay right
there and relax!”

“I’m just fine,
now let me get that for …”

Mom
slammed the pot she’d been holding down on the kitchen counter,
making it ring like a bell. “You are
not
fine, Joseph!” Her eyes were wide, red rimmed
and terrified. “You’re not!”

I backed off ,
my hands up before me in surrender.

Mom was a
wreck. Fatigue showed in every fiber, which was saying something
given her usual condition. Hair completely frazzled. Her housecoat
a wrinkled shambles. Cheeks sunken even further than I
remembered.

But her eyes.
It was her eyes that would haunt me forever.

The pain. The
fear. The loss.

I burned with
shame.

“I … okay, Mom.
I’ll sit down.”
She just stared at me.

I forced myself
to look at her diminutive frame. Made sure my voice was steady. “So
long as you sit with me. You’re exhausted, and I don’t need any
soup.”

Mom glared at
me, more out of frustration and impotence than any real anger. Then
her coughing fit came back briefly, which rapidly turned to
tears.

My own eyes
began to itch and water, but I blinked them back manfully.

I hate it when
she cries.

I took the pot
out of her hands and wrapped her in a very gentle hug. Her face
pressed hard into my chest, her hands clenched into fists into my
sides. She sobbed. Chest heaving, which caused more coughs and
convulsions.

We stayed like
that. My shirt getting damp and my heart breaking.