Peg paced and glanced out of the NO EXIT sign on the glass door to the Key West airport tarmac. Sun peeked between the dark clouds of the squall. Puddles steamed on the runway as the ground attempted to cool itself to a solid.
“It’s so weird to be able to greet people at the gate. I miss this from the old days. Not many airports where you can see the plane land as you wait.” Peg chatted in the direction of the bartender setting up drinks at the bar located in front of the arrivals entrance. “The tourists are not going to miss the bar, that’s for sure.”
The bartender smiled and nodded. “I’m the Key West version of the gift shop in a museum. Gotta go through the bar or you can’t get out of the airport.” He put his hands on his hips and widened his stance.
Peg smiled at him. “Do you think that the plane will make it in with all of this crazy weather?” She pointed to the blackening sky.
“Sure they will. This is nothin’. The pilots are all navy trained. They like a little bit of wind shear.” The bartender took a quick look outside then added a few more cups to the counter before pouring generous amounts of tequila across the line of beverages.
“It looks so dark over the runway. Don’t they land from that direction?”
“You need this.” He held up the cup and the green liquid sloshed around. “Drink one and you’ll forget your worries. Drink two – you’ll forget your manners. Drink three – you’ll forget your spouse.” He pointed to the ring-less tan line around the fourth finger of his left hand.
Peg blushed then paled.
I wonder how many of these Clark drank before flying to Cuba?
“No… I’m fine.” She chewed the skin on the outside of her pinky nail. “I’m just excited to see my friend who’s coming from Chicago. I haven’t seen her in months. I really need her to get here. She’s my best friend. This kind of weather would have shut down O’Hare. I mean, they’re pretty good in the winter with the snow and ice, but they’re very cautious with lightning and wind. There was that terrible plane crash back in the–”
“It’s on the house.” He came around the bar and shoved the drink into Peg’s hand. “Take a big sip.”
Outside the window a black cloud engulfed the airport. Rain pelted the door. Peg took a swig. The lime medicine coated her throat and nerves.
This shouldn’t taste this good.
A dim hum could be heard, a sputtering plane engine sound interspersed with thunder. Peg stood on tiptoes and craned her neck to see the plane emerge as a blurry vision through the window waterfall. The propellers whirred with 70 years of muscle memory, guiding the plane off the airstrip to the middle of the tarmac. The pilot cut the engines 100 yards away from the entrance. Water careened off of the welcome-mannequins’ backs as they braved the elements.
“She’s here.” Peg beamed.
The bartender whoo-whooed. “Yessss.”
The poncho’d maintenance workers wheeled the metal stairs to the airplane door. Rain poured while lightning bolted and the airplane door opened.
“Is this safe? I mean… a metal stairway and lightning? The people are going to get soaked, if they don’t die first.” Peg’s voice pitched higher as she spoke. “They’re pretty far away. Don’t they wait to let the people off till it stops raining?”
The bartender gave her a look, then motioned with a “take a drink” hand.
Eyes glued to the door, Peg complied.
The passengers exited the plane to a torrent of rain, feet slipping on the steps as they descended. Purses, computer bags and newspapers held overhead in a struggle to defend themselves against a very wet and angry Mother Nature. One by one they ran into the terminal, leaving no bit of clothing or free-carry-on undrenched. Peg scrutinized each of the running passengers, searching for the familiar horn-rimmed glasses and spiky hair.
She heard her before she could see her.
“Fucking fuckity fuck fucker.” Trudy ran through the door. The wheels of her bedraggled carry-on suitcase flung water behind her. Squinting, she held her dripping, foggy glasses by the frame and, with a Labrador head-shake, she stomped past the electronic doors, into the meet and greet area.
“You’re HERE. With ME.” Peg ambushed her unsuspecting wet friend. She picked Trudy up and twirled her with such force that Trudy’s glasses hurled out of her hand and flung over the crowd, skimming across the bar.
Trudy continued her rant. “I’ve never seen rain like that before. The SOBs don’t even give you an umbrella. What kind of a miserable–”
Peg embraced her wet buddy. “You made it. You’re soaked.” She held her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you. It’s really you. Hey, where are your glasses?”
Trudy screwed up her eyes. “Most likely being worn by a passing fish, my God, that’s a lot of water.” She returned the hug.
The bartender hooted his greeting. “Welcome, best friend who we’ve been so worried about.” He held up Trudy’s specs in one hand and a cup of green liquid in the other. “Glasses,” he presented both to Trudy, “are my specialty.”
Peg took her cup from the counter. “I’m already half-finished with mine.”
“I love this guy.” Trudy placed the glasses on her nose. She winked at the bartender as she chugged the entire contents in one giant gulp. “Two more for the road, my good man.” Trudy took out her purse and put down three soggy twenty-dollar bills. She handed a pre-made drink from the line-up to Peg and kept one for herself. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to see Nipper.”
Peg and Trudy left the airport, their drinking arms linked. “Jeez, that was a quick storm. It couldn’ta waited 15 minutes for us to get out of the plane.” Trudy pointed to the sun peeking out through ominous clouds, her glasses fogged as they exited the air conditioning.
“Ha, get used to that.” Peg chuckled. “Oh, and watch out for the chickens.” She shooed away a rooster who stood his ground next to the curb. “They’re everywhere and definitely follow the motto It’s five am somewhere. Ha, I read that on a tee shirt. That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever read on a tee shirt in Key West, believe me. There’s this one with a stick figure kneeling behind another one… can’t un-see that.” Peg snuggled her friend. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re really here.” She wrapped her arm around Trudy’s shoulders.
“What kind of an original Wright brothers’ plane did I come in on? For real, the propellers started and stopped in midair, diving, bobbing and weaving.” Trudy rolled her head from side to side. “The guy next to me turned the color of this drink.” Trudy raised the cup to her mouth as she walked. “My God, it’s hell-hot here.” She swilled the beverage.
“I know. People say you get used to it. I do have a rash that has acclimated nicely.” She scratched under her right breast.
“I can see how yeasts would thrive.” Trudy wiped her cheek with her wet sleeve. “Where’s the car?”
“I had to take a taxi to the airport. I have a flat tire and haven’t fixed it yet. I think the rubber melted into the street. Clark usually handles the car stuff.”
“Asshole.”
Peg changed the subject. “It’s okay though, I don’t need the car. It’s easy to walk everywhere. I could’ve walked to the airport but the storm freaked me out.”
Trudy held on to her baseball cap in the wind. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
They jumped into a cab. “Cheers.” Peg thudded her cup to Trudy’s and they downed the liquid.
The angry sky blackened on the horizon as another squall gained strength. But over the cab, the sun’s rays beamed in the patchy blue sky. The taxi careened through a considerable amount of standing water on the streets, splashing cursing tourists who crossed the road to the beach.
“Sorry, mon,” the taxi driver yelled out the window. “Too much rain. Can’t be elped.”
Trudy closed her window to avoid a re-soaking. “Shit.”
Peg laughed. “I know, the island’s made of coral. The water takes a while to soak back into the ground after these big rains.”
“Man, if it looks like this after a short rainstorm, I can’t imagine what it’d look like after a hurricane.”
Argh. Hurricanes. Don’t think about the grotto… not your fault… it’s Africa’s fault…
“Here we are. Home sweet home.” The cab stopped next to the gate. Nipper heard the sound of the gravel as the cab pulled up. He barked wildly.
“Where’s my baby? My good boy?” Trudy called out to the dog. Peg opened the gate and went back to the taxi to pay and grab the suitcase. The dog jumped at the glass door until Trudy burst in, and then he power-bounded into her stomach. “Ugh. Okay. Okay. I know. You must smell your old buddy Tucker. He wishes he could be here instead of with the stoner next-door neighbor kid.” She knelt down laughing while the dog licked her face. “Tucker loves that kid though. I’ll text him to see how they’re doing. Probably getting high together.”
“I wish you could’ve brought Tucker too. Can you tell that Nipper and I missed you?” Peg joined in the human/canine melee. The inside air felt cool and moist. Condensation obscured the windows. “She’s here, Nipper. It’s real. I can’t believe that you’re really HERE.” Peg lifted Trudy off of the floor and the dog wiggled and waggled in-between their legs.
“I can’t believe that you really LIVE here.” Trudy took in the surroundings. “Two questions. One. Where is your dryer so that I can peel off these soaking clothes? Two. Where is the liquor in this tiny house?”
Peg beamed. “I’m so happy that you’re here. Okay. First answer, the dryer is in the closet behind you. I know, it’s in the kitchen, but I’m lucky to be able to do laundry inside the house. Most people go to the laundromat or do their washing outside.”
“Jesus, it’s the 21st century, people.” Trudy opened a closet door and gave Peg a quizzical look. The closet shelves were lined with canned goods and bottles, each with its own specific label.
“Not that one, the one next to it.”
Trudy held up a can.
“I know, I know.” Peg scrunched her face.
“The tomato soup has a label on it that says Tomato Soup. Is everything in alphabetical order?”
“I got a new label maker… it’s been a long month… and it’s an addiction… honestly, I couldn’t stop.”
“No label making for you this week. We’re two women on the town.” Trudy placed the can back next to the clearly marked Tortilla Soup.
Peg whooped and opened the fridge, “Second answer is champagne is chillin’.” She presented the green bottle. “Voilà.”
“Learning French for any particular reason?”
“Shut up. I’m not looking for another man. And even if I was, the Canadian has a sea nymph for a girlfriend. I mean it. The real thing. Fins and gills. With giant boobs. And, I haven’t spoken to him since the… you know. Manatee situation.” Peg’s voice went to a whisper and she looked around.
Trudy smiled and held up her bubbling champagne glass. “Cheers, a perfect way to prepare for an evening of drinking. Maybe after we drink this, you can teach me how to ride a manatee.” Trudy thrust her pelvis back and forth.
Peg held her fingers to her lips. “Shut up, it’s serious. I could have gone to jail.” She swung at her friend and giggled. “Ooo, this stuff is good, do you want to stay in or go out?”
“Let’s go out. Lady I work with said that I gotta go to Duval Street. Something about Captain Tony’s, and a Green Parrot.”
“Yay! A Duval crawl. I haven’t done that yet. Seemed weird to do it by myself.” She turned to Trudy, “Why don’t you move here? We can do everything together. Just quit your job and move to Key West,” she pleaded with prayer hands.
“What about if Clark comes back? I’ll have to make good on my promise to kill him. Then I’d go to jail and I don’t think that your Fish and Wildlife officer would be able to get me out of that one.” Trudy poured herself another libation.
“So, you are considering it then?” Peg’s nose snorted a laugh.
“We’ll see. We have a week to drink it… I mean think it over.” Trudy cheers-ed the air.
“I’m so happy now that you’re here.” Peg wheeled the suitcase into the spare bedroom. “I’ll give Nipper a walk and you change your clothes. Wear something cool, and I don’t mean fashionable. Prepare to sweat. We’ll walk to our crawl.” Peg jingled the leash. “C’mere, Nipper.”
“Whooo… paaarrrttaaayy.” Trudy performed a combination of the hustle and the jig down the hall, drink sloshing.
Peg and Nipper strode out into the warm gusts of wind – no rain, but blustery and hot. “Nipper, I’ll give you your special treats while Trudy and I are out tonight.” The dog perked up his ears when he heard the word treats then continued on to do his business in all of the regular spots along the walk.
They returned to find both Trudy and her beverage refreshed.
Waving goodbye to the contented dog, they closed the gate and turned down the street.
“How far are we walking?” Trudy surveyed the tumultuous sky.
“Everything is pretty clo–” Peg stopped talking and covered her mouth with her hand. She turned and covered Trudy’s mouth with her other hand.
“Mmmm, mmm.” Trudy peeled Peg’s hand off of her mouth.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Cover your mouth,” Peg mumbled underneath her own fingers. “It’s dragonfly season.” A swarm of buzzing, winged insects flew helter-skelter around them.
One zinged into Trudy’s face. “Holy shit.” She covered her mouth.
“I don’t care how much protein they have. Take it from me. It’s an unwanted snack.” Peg talked into the palm of her hand until a blustery breeze carried the mob of black bugs down the street. “It’s okay. You can put your hand down. They’re gone, for now.”
Trudy did a 360-degree spin around to make sure that the coast was clear. A straggler whizzed by. Returning hand to mouth Trudy declared, “I need another drink.”
“Lots of bars and other stuff to see in Key West. The buoy that marks the Southernmost Point, tons of museums and galleries…” Peg’s voice was drowned out by the Ghosts and Graveyards bus tour coming from behind them on the street. Words like death, corpse and haints echoed out as the tour guide spoke.
Peg shivered.
…haints…
As if on cue, the bus passengers yelled in their direction, “You’re doomed.”
Amused, Trudy yelled back, “No. You’re doomed.”
Peg shushed Trudy. “I don’t think anyone should be joking around like that. I mean… I know that it’s not really true… that we’re doomed… but I don’t like to hear it anyway… cause if something bad does happen… then naturally I’ll think I am doomed and it might just be a coincidence… and…”
“Whoa there.” Trudy stopped short. “What are you talking about? You know it’s all a joke. Right?”
“I know. Of course. I know.” Peg took a deep breath.
“Who needs a drink now?” Trudy held her friend around the waist and pressed forward at a faster clip.
A voice sang out from a bicyclist across the street, “I do, ladies.” Wearing a thong with black fishnet stockings, turquoise bustier with matching top hat, he sat up stick straight in order to reach the Easy Rider handlebars. Before the women had a chance to respond, he tipped his top hat and disappeared into the next driveway.
“What the?” They giggled with faces close together.
“This is why I need you here… as a witness. No one would believe me.”
They re-linked sweaty elbows.
“How much longer? The wick-away in this shirt has up and left.” A gust of hot air almost knocked her over. “This is some wind.” Newspapers and garbage danced in whirlpools in the alleys.
“Gale force… ridiculously strong tonight.” Peg supported her friend’s back and pushed her forward. “Almost there.”
“Let’s start at Captain Tony’s. It used to be Sloppy Joe’s but now Sloppy Joe’s is there.” Peg pointed across the street to the open windows filled to overflow with tourists screaming along with the band, “Why don’t we get drunk and screw?”
“Jimmy Buffett is a god here,” Peg whispered.
“Right. Some god. Get drunk and get screwed buying all of his crap,” Trudy said too loud.
“Shhh. You’ll start a riot.”
“I mean, look at those people. All dressed the same with their hands in the air. Probably how Hitler got started.”
Peg laughed. “Let’s go before you start another world war. I didn’t know you were so anti-Margaritaville.” She hugged Trudy to distract her. “On a history note, there’s a story about Hemingway taking the urinal from Captain Tony’s when they moved the bar. He said that he pissed away so much money into the urinal that he owned it.”
“I just hope he didn’t take the toilet in the ladies’ room, ’cause I gotta go.” Trudy quickened her step and crossed against the light on Duval Street. A scooter honked. She about-faced with both middle fingers flying. “Suck on these birds you parrot-headed mother fu–”
“Let’s go.” Peg grabbed one of Trudy’s obscene gestures, leaving the other one firmly in position. Trudy sidestepped in front of the scooter and stared down the double-chinned, large-bellied driver.
“Looks like he’s had too many cheeseburgers in paradise,” Trudy added.
“Okay, okay… I get it.” Peg dragged her friend toward the bar entrance.
“I’m just sayin’ – definitely not wasting away.”
Peg shoved her friend in the door of Captain Tony’s. “And… we’re here. You go pee and I’ll get us some drinks.”
Trudy jogged in the direction of the restroom sign. Peg found a couple of spots at the bar. The densely tattooed bartender slapped his hands down on the bar in front of her, “What’ll it be, miss? Margaritas are our specialty.”
“No. I mean… no thank you. Two rum and Cokes, please.”
He looked surprised. “Don’t like tequila?”
“Tequila’s fine, but don’t mention the word margarita to my best friend, Trudy. Take my word for it.”
“Rum and Cokes. Got it.” He continued talking while he mixed the drinks. “Where you from?”
“I live here now but I’m from Chicago.”
“You’re local? Tonight it’s buy one get one free for locals.” He placed four drinks in front of her. “Chicago, huh? Never been. I hear it’s cold up there.”
Before Peg could respond, the bartender was called away on another drink order. Trudy sat down next to her. “Expecting company?” she asked Peg when she noticed the number of drinks lined up.
“Two for one, because I’m local. I’ll never get used to saying that.” Peg shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.
“I, for one, right at this minute in time, am happy that you are a local.” Trudy picked up both of her drinks and clinked them together.
“I, for one, am happy that you are here with me.” Peg clinked her two glasses to Trudy’s.
“As the seafaring folk say, down the hatch.”
Summoned by the nearly empty drinks, the bartender reappeared with two fresh ones. “Welcome,” he addressed Trudy with a bow.
“Thank you. Why’s there a tree in the middle of the bar? I can figure out why the walls are decorated with bras.” Trudy sat up straight. “A bra can get pretty confining after several of these.” She lifted her replenished drink.
“Used to be an ice house, then a morgue. During a hurricane, the bodies washed out of the building. That’s a hanging tree where 18 people were hanged.”
… hurricane… floating corpses…
Peg turned her goose-fleshed neck sideways so that she couldn’t see the tree.
“Really? Nice. What’s up with the bathroom? Why do the lights flicker blue?” Trudy took a big swig.
“No way. Blue? You saw blue?” His eyes went wide.
“Yeah – a blue light flashed. Like a blue light special or something? More free drinks?” Trudy danced her cup in the air.
Peg laughed until she saw the look on the bartender’s face. “What’s the matter?”
“That’s the Lady in Blue. You saw the Lady in Blue.” He was excited.
“I didn’t see any lady – only blue,” Trudy corrected.
“That’s her. She was there with you.”
“Who was?” Trudy persisted.
“The ghost that haunts the building. She murdered her family and they hanged her from that tree. People are always trying to get her to come out. It’s really rare.” The bartender called out to the manager, “Hey boss, there’s been a Lady in Blue sighting in the bathroom.” He rang the bell hanging on the post in the middle of the bar.
The older man rubbed his hands together. “That’s great. We were thinking she’d return. Are you sure it wasn’t the other ghost? You know, the woman that killed her baby in the bathroom when she caught her husband up to no good? There’d be a blast of cold air if she was around.”
The men turned their attention to Trudy.
“Nope. No blast of cold air. God knows I would have welcomed any air conditioning, no matter what spirit world it came from.”
Peg gulped her drink.
“People say the ghosts turn up to give out warnings. I say – the next round of drinks is on the house.” The boss-man circled his hand like a lasso and four glasses appeared on the bar in front of the women.
“I don’t like this. I think that we should go.” Peg fidgeted in her seat and sorted through her wallet to settle up.
Trudy snatched Peg’s wallet. “First of all, I’m paying. Second of all, we’re not done with our drinks.”
Peg’s eyes welled up and she leaned closer to Trudy. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but the ghosts are after me. They visited me one night when I was sleeping.”
Trudy’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? The potty ghosts are in your house too?”
Peg shook her head. “No, different ones. They’re called haints. The blue paint on the front porch was chipped and… um… they came to talk to me in the middle of the night and warn me something about Clark.”
“Smart haints.” Trudy’s smirk faded when she saw Peg’s hand shaking. “Oh my God, you’re really frightened. This isn’t a joke to you.”
Peg looked down, trying not to cry. However, fueled by alcohol and the proximity of her best friend, the tears flowed freely. The bartender approached them, took one glance at Peg, then quickly about-faced.
“I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m trying to be strong and do this whole new adventure thing, but it’s hard and I’m scared and I’m all alone.” The choking sobs increased as Peg spoke.
Trudy hugged her friend. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”
“I know and I’m so happy that you’re here,” she cried harder, “but you’re gonna leave and I’m gonna still be here… alone.” Her shoulders heaved up and down.
Trudy held Peg’s face in her hands and used her thumbs to wipe away the tears. “Look at me. I’m not gonna leave you. I won’t do it. Tucker and I will move here to be with you. I miss you too. We’ll rent something at first and then look around to buy.”
Peg red-eyed her friend in disbelief. “Really? You’re serious? You’re not saying this ’cause we’ve had 15 drinks… right?” She smiled through her remaining tears. “For real?”
“Sure. I’ll figure it out. They need accountants here. Right? Why not?” Trudy’s eyes glistened under her glasses.
“Why not?” Peg blew her nose with a bar napkin. “We’ll all be together again. The four of us on our daily walks, just like old times.” She tipped herself off the barstool and bear-hugged Trudy.
Trudy returned the big hug. “I’ll drink to that. To our future.”
Ceremoniously, they double-clinked their glasses.
The bartender reappeared with four shots of tequila. “Tequila is the happy booze. I thought you might wanna change it up.” He handed Peg the box of tissues from the other counter. “I’m having trouble knowin’ if I should console or congratulate.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry, I’m usually not like this… but I’m fine now because my best friend is moving here… for real… she’s gonna do it.”
“It’s true. I’m gonna do it.” Trudy held up the shot glass.
“I’ll drink to that too.” The bartender filled a shot for himself and raised his glass to Trudy. “May the wind be always at your back. Cheers.”
They emptied their glasses.
The dusty fan oscillated in the corner of the bar next to a guitar player. His long hair blew alternately in, then out, of his mouth as he sang. The crowd grew louder as it increased in size and alcohol intake. The friendly bartender hustled into work mode while customers lined up to place their orders.
Trudy folded several bills under her shot glass. “Getting too crowded in here.”
“Right. Let’s go.” Peg swilled the last sip and stood up.
They waved to the bartender, who saluted them as they left.
Peg clasped Trudy’s hand and swung her arm up and down. “WHOOO. I’M SO HAPPY,” Peg yelled into the blustery wind.
Trudy swiveled her hips in rhythm with her arms. “WHOOO. I’M SO HAPPY TOO.”
“I wanna show you this cool neighborhood. It’s called the Annex and it’s so perfect… almost like it’s pretend. Nipper and I walk there.”
“Okay, neighbor.” Trudy and Peg ringed-around-the-rosy in full giggle.
Holding hands, they skipped down the palm tree-lined street.
Had they not been dancing, and had they been sober, they might have noticed that: the wind increased in both speed and intensity; the coconuts ceased to be hanging on branches; the wind blew at their backs.
THWACK.
Trudy fell.
Peg tripped over her downed friend.
The coconut rolled onto the road.
“Trudy… Trudy… Are you all right?” Peg crawled along the sidewalk to her motionless friend. She picked up Trudy’s head and blood flowed freely from the back. “Trudy… Speak to me. Oh my God… No, this can’t be… NO.”
She yanked her phone from her pocket and dialed 911 with unsteady fingers. “An emergency… a coconut… my friend… please help… I’m in the Annex… the main street… hurry.”
Without a second thought, Peg whipped the shirt off her own back, revealing a sweat-stained exercise bra. She crumpled the wick-away shirt and held it to Trudy’s bloody head.
Not working… won’t absorb…
She cradled Trudy in her arms and whispered in her ear, “You’re gonna be okay… we’re gonna be neighbors… you’re gonna be okay.”
The ambulance sirens wailed around the corner and grew louder until the vehicle came to a stop, lights flashing next to the curb. Two EMTs leapt out. One opened the back door of the ambulance for the stretcher, the other grabbed a medical kit and rushed to Peg.
“Lie down, miss. You have blood all over you. Can you speak? Where are you hurt?”
Trudy’s head resting on her lap, Peg looked down at her now-bloody exercise bra. “No, not me, it’s my best friend… hit on the head with a coconut… still breathing… not talking.”
“Let me take a look at her.” He knelt down and Peg moved aside.
Carefully lifting Trudy’s head, he leaned over to examine her. Rivers of blood fell from the balled-up moisture-resistant shirt. He opened up some heavy gauze and wrapped it around and around and around her head.
“She’s gonna be okay, right? She got here today… a few hours ago. But she’s gonna move here… to be with me.” Peg grabbed his shirt.
“Settle down, ma’am. We’re gonna do everything we can. Please sit down.” He disconnected Peg’s hands from his neckline. Bloody fingermarks stained his collar.
The other EMT came forward with the stretcher and placed it next to Trudy. “What happened?”
“Another coconut to the head. That’s the third one today.” He turned to Peg and asked while pointing, “Is this the coconut here?”
“Yes, I think that’s the one. Or maybe it was the one to the left… I’m not sure… Does it matter?” Peg rubbed her goose-bumped arms.
“I’ll take both of them. They’ll use them to analyze strength of impact.” He turned to his partner and said, “Give me a blanket. She’s in shock.” He covered up a shivering Peg with the blanket.
“She got any ID?”
“Trudy. Her name is Trudy Stanislowski.” Peg stared down at her limp best friend.
“Okay. Does Trudy have a photo ID?”
“I think so… in her back pocket. Hurry… can’t you help her?” Peg begged.
“I don’t want to move her. We’ll get it once she’s immobilized.” Both EMTs nodded in agreement.
The uniformed men carefully slid the stretcher under Trudy’s body and fastened the straps.
“On three.” The men grasped the stretcher’s handles. “One, two, three.”
Trudy levitated into the ambulance. One EMT followed her into the vehicle while the other stabilized the medical equipment so that the doors could close.
Peg cried, “I’m going in there with her… not leaving her alone.” She threw the blanket off, scrambled to stand, then staggered to the ambulance.
The EMT intercepted Peg. “Ma’am, we can’t take you in the back of the vehicle, but you can ride in front.” He picked up the blanket from the ground and guided her to the passenger door.
Peg resisted and ran to the back of the ambulance again. “I need to be with her… when she wakes up… I want her to see me.” The EMT inside the ambulance closed the door. Peg stood on the bumper and suction-cupped her hands to the glass. “Trudy, I’m here. I won’t leave you.” Peg pressed her face to the window.
“Ma’am, come with me. We’ll be at the hospital in five minutes. The faster you cooperate, the faster we can get help for your friend.” He offered the blanket back to Peg and motioned toward the front of the vehicle.
Peg looked in the window then back at the EMT. “I’ll be here, Trudy. I’m with you… in the front.” Peg patted the side of the ambulance and stepped off of the bumper. The driver rewrapped the blanket around her shoulders and opened the passenger door.
Once seated, Peg sobbed as the engine started. “It’s all my fault… bus people said we’re doomed… took her to a haunted bar…” sniff, gasp, “…the lady ghost in the potty warned her…” sniffle, snort, “…Trudy said she’d move here…” chortle, wheeze, “…the bartender toasted us… wind to our backs…” deep breath, “…it was to our backs all right… bastard…”
“We’re at the hospital, ma’am.” The driver bolted out of the door.
Disoriented and bedraggled, Peg zigzagged out to meet the medical entourage that surrounded Trudy at the back of the ambulance. To their right, Peg saw the emergency room. To their left, she heard a helicopter’s whirling blades.
The group circled Trudy like ants.
“What happened?”
“Coconut.”
“To the head?”
“Yeah.”
“Better write it on her so they know how it happened.”
“Right.” He took out a marker and wrote COCONUT in big black letters across Trudy’s forehead under the white gauze.
A doctor bellowed a command over the commotion. The pod of white coats, and Trudy, proceeded to the left.
“Where’s she going? Why aren’t you taking her into the hospital?” Peg grabbed the doctor’s coat sleeve.
“It’s a potential brain injury. We don’t handle them here. She’s being life-flighted to Miami.” He shouted to the pilot who walked past them, “Another nut case.” The pilot saluted and continued toward the helicopter. The doctor noticed Peg’s bloodstained bra. “Are you bleeding? This lady’s bleeding. Help her STAT.”
“What? NO.” Peg shrugged off the nurse who approached her. “Miami? What are you talking about? She can’t go to Miami. She’s staying here with me.” Peg ran toward the helicopter. “TRUDY… TRUDY…”
The wind from the blades spun Peg’s hair into gravity-defying tentacles. Moving forward, she leaned her body into the force of the blasts.
The nurse reached through the hairdo maelstrom and pulled her back.
Peg saw Trudy through the large window of the helicopter. The orange straps cocooned her friend’s body. The white bandage mummified the top of her head with the letters “N-U-T” exposed on the right side of her forehead. One of the coconuts was strapped next to Trudy’s breast, creating the illusion that she wore a tropical brassiere on her chopper ride out of Key West.
The helicopter lifted into the air.
“Noooooo.” Peg fell to the ground.
The nurse stooped down. “Let’s get you inside.”
Peg knelt on the concrete until the sound of the helicopter blades faded out of earshot.
“Come on. I’ll get you a shirt to put on.” Supporting Peg’s elbow, the nurse helped her to her feet. They walked together through the emergency room entrance.
“Are you sure you don’t need medical attention?” the nurse asked as she rummaged through a box of clothes marked clean. She handed Peg a fluorescent yellow tee shirt.
“No, I need to know where my friend is going. I have to be with her.” Peg tugged the shirt over her bloodstained bra. It said Will work for beer.
“I’m sorry, it’s all I could find,” the nurse said.
“Could be worse… the shirt… I mean… not my life… that… actually… could not be worse.” Peg held out her hands. Her nails were crusted with rusty dried blood.
“Are you related to the patient?”
“No, I’m her best friend.”
“Then, due to privacy laws, the dispatcher and staff won’t give out any details about where she’s going.”
Peg slumped. “But I’m like a relative… closer than a relative.”
“Go home and get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning. Do you have a ride?”
Peg shook her head and whispered, “No.”
The nurse nodded to the woman behind the desk. “Call Conch Taxi Service.”
The excitement, disappointment, alcohol, fear and sadness caught up with Peg. “My best friend… she’s not coming back here, is she?”
“No, she’s not,” the nurse replied, then disappeared through the door.
“Cab for one?” asked the woman on the phone.
“Yes, I’m alone.”