Aces Over Threes
Think with your gut first. War is 90% instinct. ~From the Deployment Survival Journal of Pete “Rabbit” Kincaid
Sea spray pelted Rabbit’s face, and he inhaled deeply, drawing the smell of hot fish and salty air into his lungs. He sucked in another breath, reveling in the scent that reminded him he was half a world away from the dust and sweat of Afghanistan.
Stopping at Fred’s Marina after he’d set Fiskar up in the barracks had been a stroke of genius. Nothing could compare with the freedom of zipping along the waves in the eighteen-foot power boat rental, wind whipping his face, sun glancing off the water. And his solitary status didn’t hurt either. Finally, a place where he could curse and rant at the world without disturbing or offending anyone. Or he could sit in brooding silence without the worry that one of his friends would come along and try to jolly him out of it.
In that moment, with only the throaty thrum of the single outboard engine for company, life seemed perfect. A glance at the gas gauge assured him that he could probably make one last circuit of Wilson Bay before he called it an afternoon. He eased back on the throttle and trolled along the shore coming up on Wilson’s Bend Park. His buddy Brandon lived back in that neighborhood somewhere. Could he see the bay from his yard? Rabbit squinted at the houses along the shoreline, seeking a familiar landmark, but nothing rang any bells. It had been a couple of years since he’d hung out there. Maybe things had changed.
A lone figure stood at the water’s edge pitching stones into the bay. As he drew near, the kid turned toward the boat and Rabbit zeroed in on his face. The boy from the storage units? He almost wanted to stop and see how the kid was doing. Almost. He shook his head.
Still not your problem, man.
With a flick of his wrist, he spun the wheel to angle the boat away from the shore. He had his hand on the throttle when a flash of red captured his attention. A child — a really young child — in jeans and a red shirt ambled along the edge of the short dock. And no adult was in sight.
“What the crap?” Rabbit set the throttle back to idle and let the boat drift while he scanned the shore for any sign that the child wasn’t alone. The only person around was the kid tossing rocks and he was looking in the opposite direction.
The distant putter of another boat became louder just as the water developed a heavy chop. Glancing over his shoulder, Rabbit spotted a white boat spinning donuts in the center of the bay, dragging a red and yellow tube with a rider through its wake.
The chop rocked his boat, pushing it sideways toward the shore. Then the waves began licking at the wooden dock. The youngster laughed and slapped at them, leaning over the edge to reach. Rabbit didn’t know much about kids but he didn’t look very old, two or three? Maybe. More waves hit the dock, coming in harder and higher.
He’s going to fall in! “Hey!” shouted Rabbit. And when the baby didn’t respond, he cupped his hands and shouted at the teenager farther up the shore. “Hey! Kid! Kid! Turn around!”
The boy jerked and whipped his head up. Rabbit pointed to the dock.
The toddler had disappeared. Rabbit’s heart slammed against his chest. Maybe the child had wandered back off the dock.
No! A bit of red bobbed in the water near the end. Rabbit cut the boat’s engine as he toed off his left shoe followed by his right, and then he dove over the side of the boat. Cool water closed over his head as the bay swallowed him like an oyster on the half shell. When he surfaced, he took a split second to home in on the dock. His strokes were sure as his arms sliced through the water but it seemed to take forever to get there. The teenager arrived about the same time as Rabbit, and he was already kicking off his shoes. Then Rabbit had the tiny body. He turned the baby over and caught sight of a white-blue face before he pushed on toward the boy on the dock.
The kid pulled the child from the water with awkward, jerking motions. Rabbit used the bounce from the diminishing wake to position himself then latched onto the wooden planks and propelled himself up onto the dock. As he crab-walked over to the toddler, he winced at the pinch from the scar along his side.
“Is he breathing?” he rasped.
The teenager shook his head. His face was nearly as pale as the baby’s.
Man! What were the rules of rescue breathing? It had been a long time since he’d had the training. What’s that sequence? The one-two-threes? No, the ABCs. A… activate and airway. Check the airway.
“Go call for help,” he ordered the kid, reaching for the tiny lifeless body.
The boy stood but hovered uncertainly.
“Kid! Get help!” Rabbit laid the baby out flat, trying not to think about the blue pallor or the cold stillness. “Go! I got this.”
The kid took off along the dock.
No sooner had Rabbit straightened the child’s neck when he started a weak sputtering and gasping. Water gurgled up from his throat and Rabbit quickly rolled him to the left so the water dribbled out.
A thin wail emerged from the little mouth. The toddler’s skin still had a bluish cast, but the stark whiteness was slowly turning a dusky rose.
“Come on, baby.” A gust of wind struck chills along Rabbit’s back, and he shivered.
At the sound of running feet, he glanced up. A young couple raced toward him, concern branding both their faces.
“Is this your boy?” Rabbit asked through chattering teeth.
“No,” answered the girl, who was probably somewhere in her early to mid-twenties. “We heard the splashing and saw you pull him out. I’m a nurse.” Without waiting for a response, she knelt next to the now screeching toddler and wrapped him in a pink and black plaid blanket.
Her companion shrugged out of a navy blue windbreaker and settled it over Rabbit’s shoulders. “Here you go, sir.”
* * * *
“Mom! Mom!” Nate’s voice came to her through the fog of deep sleep. “Mom!”
Nathan! Something’s wrong! Lin sat up straight, her heart pounding in a good imitation of a jackhammer. “What? Is he here?” She blinked and looked around. Trees… grass… The buzz of insects. She stared down at the shiny green surface in front of her. Nicole loves Gecko carved inside a lopsided heart. The picnic table. She must have been resting her head there.
“JR!” Lin swept her gaze to the right.
The ratty brown teddy bear that JR carted around like an appendage lay face down in the grass. One end of the white safety strap dangled off the empty stroller seat.
“What? Nate! Where’s your—”
“Mom! JR fell in the water!” He grabbed her by the arm and tugged. “Come on!”
“Oh, no! No! No! No!” Lin jumped to her feet and struggled to push herself away from the picnic table. Clunky and uncooperative, her feet stumbled on the uneven ground, but she pushed on, chasing after Nate.
When they reached the dock, JR was sitting, legs spread wide for balance, bundled in a plaid blanket. The couple who had been snuggling earlier now kneeled next to the frightened child. Loud wails tore at Lin’s heart as she clomped along the wooden planking.
“JR! What happened to you?” She slid to her knees and gathered the distressed baby into her arms. Hot tears splashed down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth.
“My name’s Maggie,” the girl introduced herself. “I’m a nurse at the Naval Hospital at Camp Lejeune. This is my fiance, Jase. I think your little guy’s going to be okay. Thank goodness he had a fast rescuer.”
The baby’s howls diminished into soft sobs, and Lin looked up, steeling herself for the inevitable lecture for not properly watching her child. Nothing could be worse than the words she was thinking herself. A drenched man stared at her, jaw dropped, eyes wide. It took her a second but then it clicked.
“You’re the man at the Tidewater.” What was he doing at Wilson’s Bend? Her breath stuck in her lungs. Could he be following them after all?
The low thrum of an engine drifted across the water and a sleek white boat slid up to the dock. “Heya!” shouted the middle-aged man at the wheel.
A girl about Nate’s age jumped out, a bright yellow rope in one hand.
“We saw you go in,” continued the gentleman, looking at the younger man currently dripping on the dock. The thrumming abruptly stopped as the boat’s engine was cut. “Picked up your boat here before it drifted too far out.”
Motel Man gave a curt nod as he stepped to the edge of the dock and accepted the rope. “Thanks, man,” he said, deftly looped the rope around a metal hitch. He pulled it tight and stood.
The teenaged girl stole a glance at Nate before she hopped back into the craft and folded herself onto one of the white vinyl seats.
“No problem,” said the boater. He shrugged, appearing a little sheepish. “Seeing as we contributed to the mishap. Sorry about that.” He nodded at JR. “Everything okay here?”
JR whimpered and snuggled more tightly against Lin with a sigh.
She nodded. “Yes, I think so.” Then, sweeping her gaze around the group, she offered a weak smile. “Thank you all. So much.”
A siren cried in the distance, moving closer. Oh, no…
“I called nine-one-one.” Jase held up a cell phone as a red and white response unit pulled into the parking lot.
Lin watched the two paramedics in pale blue shirts trotting toward them with dismay. “I-I think — I mean JR seems okay…”
They’d want to go to the hospital. Hospitals meant exams. And reports.
Tears pricked her eyes, but her mind was already creating a mental list of the things she’d need to do so they could move. Nate…
She looked up in time to see Nate and the young girl exchange shy smiles, and her heart sank.
“You’re in Mr. Greer’s class with me, aren’t you?” the girl asked.
Nate nodded.
“You should come out with us sometime,” she said just as the boat engine started.
Nate’s answer was lost in the stomping of the paramedics’ footfalls on the dock, but he had a star-struck look in his eyes that screamed teenaged hormones. Then with a low growl and a slap of water against the pier, the white boat departed.
Lin turned her attention back to her younger child. A uniformed police officer sauntered across the planks. Straight blond hair framed her face to her chin. Lin pegged her at a couple of years younger. Great, just young enough to still have an idealistic outlook on life. The shiny gold badge above her left breast pocket read Migalski.
“Lungs sound dry.” The younger medic, a towhead blond with Ken Moss stamped into his name tag, looped the gray tubing of the stethoscope around his neck. Then he pressed two fingers against JR’s neck and looked at his wristwatch. After a minute or so, he nodded. “Pulse is strong at one-twelve. Okay, just let me check your eyes and throat, little dude.”
JR grabbed for the penlight the EMT flashed.
Moss chuckled. “You like that, huh?”
The other EMT, Anthony Tonorelli, according to his plastic tag, made a note on a fluttery white paper attached to a clipboard.
Moss glanced up at Lin. “I’d say you dodged a bullet.”
“How did the accident happen?” asked Officer Migalski. She withdrew a leather-bound notepad from her pocket and opened it.
“It was my fault!” Nate blurted, edging over to stand between Lin and the cop. “I was supposed to be watching JR for my mom and I… I got…” He gulped. “I forgot.”
Lin pressed her lips together to prevent the denial from escaping. Even if she could think of the words to say, she doubted they would get past the lump in her throat.
The man who had rescued JR stiffened and shot Nate a startled glance before settling a hard stare on Lin. She turned her head away, refusing to acknowledge him. In the grand picture, what he thought of her was the least of her worries.
Migalski asked a few more questions. Lin answered slowly, using the carefully crafted information she had made up and had Nathan memorize. When Migalski asked to see her driver’s license, Lin froze. The weakest link in her plan.
“I… I, um… left it up there.” She gestured vaguely toward her car.
“Okay, I’ll walk up with you.” The officer turned to the paramedic who was trying to keep JR from standing.
“Mama!” The panicked, piercing shriek reverberated off the water.
“Just a minute, baby.” Lin’s chin wobbled. Any minute now, life as they’d known it was going to come to a crashing end.
Nate grabbed JR around the waist and held on. With a sigh, Lin led Officer Migalski to her car. Sunlight poked through the trees, creating splotches of gray on the white and blue police cruiser parked next to it. The wind picked up, rustling the trees, and sending the shadows into a mad dance across the hood. Lin handed over her North Carolina driver’s license and then stood perfectly still, taking only quick, short breaths as the cop perused the plastic-encased rectangle.
“Melinda Doyle,” read Migalski. She stepped to the cruiser and retrieved an electronic tablet. Then she tapped something on the screen, took another look at the license, and shook her head. “These pictures get worse and worse every year. This barely looks like you, Mrs. Doyle.” The tablet made a dinging sound, and she glanced at it then dropped it back into the cruiser. She squinted at the picture again and then, with another shake of her head, handed Lin her license, smiling. “Believe it or not, mine looks even worse.”
“Mama!” JR cried out again.
Lin sent a pleading look. Maybe Officer Migalski had a child of her own, or a niece or nephew.
“Okay, I think we’re finished here.” Migalski smiled. “Maybe try to keep your little boy close for a bit until his brother is up to the responsibility.”
Lin let out her breath and nodded. “Definitely.”
Migalski opened her notebook and retrieved a business card. She wrote something on the back and held it out. “I can be reached here, and if you need a copy of the report, that’s the number on the back.” After Lin accepted the card with hands that trembled, the officer climbed into the police cruiser and began working on the tablet again.
Was that a dismissal? Lin slowly backed away.
“Mama!”
When she turned, the EMTs were struggling to load JR onto a gurney. Sparing one last glance over her shoulder at the cop, Lin exhaled in relief when the cruiser’s engine roared to life. She turned and hurried toward the water.
“Is that necessary?” she asked as she approached. “Does JR have to go to the hospital?”
Moss paused and looked over at her, clearly startled. “Well… I suppose not really. I’d advise it, though, just to check him out.”
“It’ll be okay.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll, um… I’ll call our regular doctor. Please, I just want to take – my baby home.” She drew shallow breaths and looked down at JR, afraid to meet anyone’s gaze.
“Of course,” said Tonorelli, his voice chilling by several degrees. He picked up the clipboard and held it out. “I’ll just need you to sign this at the X. It states that you plan to secure your son’s treatment independently.”
Relief washed over her as she scribbled on the line and handed the paperwork back, mustering her brightest smile. “Thank you. Really.”
The paramedics packed their gear and headed back to their truck.
“Go ahead and keep this,” Maggie said, tying the blanket cape-fashion around JR’s neck. “It was just something I kept in my car.”
“Here ya go.” JR’s rescuer shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it to Jase. “Thanks, man.”
Then the couple drifted off.
Clasping JR’s hand firmly in hers, Lin approached Motel Man. “Thank you,” she murmured at his raised eyebrow. “I—” The words jammed her throat. So much she should say all wanting out at once.
The man surprised her with a big grin. “Hey, it ended okay. I’m Pete Kincaid, Rabbit to my friends.”
Lin’s lips twitched. “Pete Rabbit?”
Nate coughed, almost as though choking on the air.
Rabbit’s gaze slid in that direction, his lips twisting into a sarcastic half-smile.
“Nate?” Fresh alarm rose, but her son waved her back.
“Swallowed a bug,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“I’d better get going,” said Pete Kincaid, but he made no move toward his boat. “I’m sorry… I know JR now, and Nate, but I didn’t catch your name.”
Because I didn’t give it. Lin pushed her lips into a smile. “I’m Lin… er… Doyle.” Still he made no move toward his boat. She scooped JR into her arms. “Well, thanks again. I — do you need me to give you some money? To help with your laundry maybe?”
“No,” he murmured, showing only kindness in his eyes.
Lin’s heart slammed against her chest. It had been so long… “Well, um… We should go.” Motioning for Nate, she turned and walked off the dock.
Don’t look back, don’t look back. He’s not your personal knight in shining armor. Just keep walking.
* * * *
Rabbit watched the trio troop the park until they reached the beat-up car. What quirk of karma had set the Doyle family on his path? And what the devil was that woman hiding? She’d looked more spooked about dealing with the cop than she had over nearly losing her youngest son to drowning.
He shivered, a stark reminder that his afternoon dip hadn’t exactly been in a hot tub. How had the inner-tuber stood the water that was already taking on its autumn chill? The resilience of youth maybe. Shaking his head, he hopped aboard his rental and started the engine.