Kateri stumbled going into Rainbow’s dim hospital room. She caught herself before she fell, but the stitches and sore muscles protested, and she gasped at the pain.
Dr. Frownfelter turned away from the bed. He was rumpled, overweight, with bags under his eyes and he wore a white coat that needed to be ironed and white running shoes that needed to be cleaned. He was officially retired, and officially on duty whenever he was needed. “About time you got here. Let me look at those ribs.”
Kateri didn’t move. “Rainbow?”
“She’s still with us. Sit down. You look like hell.”
Kateri took her time getting to the chair and sinking onto the seat. “Long day.”
“So I heard. Unbutton that shirt.” Dr. Frownfelter pressed the nurse’s call button. “Peggy’s on duty. You two can catch up.”
After the tsunami, Kateri had spent so much time in the hospital she knew all the nurses from here to Seattle.
Peggy came through the door, and Dr. Frownfelter told her, “We need to examine Kateri’s injuries. I’m thinking pain relief, some disinfectant, a good-sized brick to knock some sense into her.”
Kateri tried to laugh and winced.
Peggy was sixty, tall, solid, practical and she didn’t crack a smile. “Of course, Doctor. Do you want the brick sterilized?”
“Dirty as hell should do it.”
Peggy headed out the door and Dr. Frownfelter sat down in front of Kateri. He watched her try to get out of the shirt.
Her fingers were shaking too much to deal with the buttons.
With a sound of disgust, he brushed her hands aside and finished the task. “Did you get him? I suppose not, or you would be less despairing.”
“We didn’t get him. John Terrance has been sneaking around the countryside delivering his drugs. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s smart.”
“Like a fox.”
“That’s a slur on all foxes. But yes. Sly and well prepared.”
Peggy returned with a tray covered with a white cloth, placed it on the small table and rolled it close to Dr. Frownfelter’s elbow. She knelt beside Kateri, carefully removed the adhesive, peeled the bandages back and muttered darkly.
Kateri didn’t ask what she had said. She was merely glad to get the adhesive off.
Dr. Frownfelter delved into his coat pocket and retrieved a bottle of Tums and a battered flashlight. He offered Kateri the bottle. “Want a Tums? Even if you haven’t got indigestion, they’re good for your calcium.”
Kateri took one, popped it in her mouth and shuddered. “That’s awful.”
“Probably a fruit flavor.” Dr. Frownfelter pointed his flashlight at Kateri’s ribs. “This looks better than I would have expected, considering. The stitches are holding this time. Whatever else you can say about the frog god, he gave you remarkable recuperative powers.” The doctor might not be Native American, but he knew the local legends.
Kateri craned her neck to see the red, jagged wound over her ribs. “If only that included pain relief.”
Dr. Frownfelter pulled on his gloves, lifted a syringe and prepared to inject it close to the stitches. “If the frog god had provided that, you’d simply do more stupid things to injure yourself.”
“I didn’t injure myself,” she snapped. “I was shot.”
“Most patients would lie down and recover. It is considered the wise move to make. Let’s use some pain relief and clean this up.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Again.”
Peggy lifted the cloth off the tray and revealed an impressive array of instruments.
Dr. Frownfelter placed the syringe in the disposal container. “Mike Sun called me about the autopsy he’s doing. Asked me about Monique Ries, where exactly the slashing was relative to her face and neck, wanted to know what I thought had been used to cause the injury.”
“What did you tell him?”
“She was slashed along the jawline, right at the bone, with something incredibly sharp because she didn’t realize at first that she was being cut. That accounted for the clean line along the first two inches. After that, not even booze could dull the pain. Monique went berserk and the cut got ugly.” He went to work cleaning up Kateri’s ribs. “I thought the assailant had aimed for her throat and missed, but Mike said the slashing on the deceased was exactly in the same location—and then some.”
“All around the jaw, up…” Kateri realized she’d better not visualize that again, not while Dr. Frownfelter was working on her ribs. “It was such a precise cut. About two hours ago, Mike sent me the report. I forwarded it to Garik Jacobsen, but I haven’t had time to read it. Did Mike tell you what was used to make the incision?”
“He didn’t know. I suggested a scalpel, but he said no. Not a razor blade, not an X-Acto knife … How long’s it been since you’ve eaten?”
Kateri couldn’t remember. “Why?”
“Because your stomach’s growling so loud we can hear it,” Peggy said.
“Can you round her something up?” Dr. Frownfelter worked on the injury, dabbing and pressing. “She’ll need something in her gullet before she takes any medication.”
“Gullet? Is that official medical talk?” Kateri asked.
“Soup. Jell-O. Pudding. Rice. The usual for this time of night. Then I’ll call down to the cafeteria and have them bring up a meal.” Peggy whipped out the door.
“Saw my old friend Bertha Waldschmidt and ordered her an X-ray,” Dr. Frownfelter chuckled and shook his head at the same time. “What a woman. Holds off a maniac with a machete, chases him out of her bar, shoots him in the butt, then fractures her hip jumping up on the bar in a rage.”
“Is she going to have to have surgery?”
“Hairline fracture. She saw the orthopedist. If she uses crutches, keeps the weight off of it, uses heat and cold and the X-rays show normal healing—no. But she’s older, so I give a fifty/fifty chance of it healing on its own. If it doesn’t, I don’t want to be the one who tells her she has to head to Seattle for a hip replacement.” He opened a wide package and pulled out a sterile dressing.
“No.” Over Dr. Frownfelter’s shoulder, Kateri observed Rainbow’s still figure, her waxy complexion, the shallow rise of her chest. “Is she worse? I can’t tell.”
“Still hovering on the brink. Every day someone from town comes in and sits with her, talks to her. That anchors her, I believe. Most nights she’s alone and she slips a little farther along the path.” He taped the dressing in place.
Kateri wanted to go home, to sleep in her own bed with Stag and Lacey, but she said, “I can stay tonight.”
To her surprise, Dr. Frownfelter didn’t argue. “We’ll bring a cot in.”
Peggy came back with chocolate pudding and a cup of beef bouillon.
Kateri drank the bouillon and burned her mouth. She used the pudding to soothe her tongue.
Dr. Frownfelter stripped off his gloves and tossed them. “You got any other injuries that require attention? How’s the hip, the knee, the … how’re all the artificial joints?”
“I’m stiff. But this food was amazing.”
Dr. Frownfelter laughed creakily. “We don’t hear that every day.”
“I’ve got a tray on the way,” Peggy said. “And a cot. Is there anybody you want us to call?”
“Stag Denali. I can do it. He’s probably going to yell, and it might as well be at me.” Kateri started to stand.
Dr. Frownfelter and Peggy each grabbed an arm and helped her up.
“Thank you.” Kateri limped over to the bed, leaned over Rainbow’s face, smoothed the hair away from her forehead. “Rainbow,” she called softly. “I’m here. I’m staying with you tonight.”
Dr. Frownfelter shoved a chair under her knees. “Sit down before you fall down, at least until the cot gets here.”
Kateri sat and held Rainbow’s cool hand between both of hers. “So much is happening, Rainbow. Did you hear any of what I was telling the doctor? It’s very exciting. My life is full of adventure. And you wouldn’t believe the stupid thing I said today about me and casual relationships. Or maybe you would.” She half expected to hear Rainbow laughing at her, booming out wisdom, talking so fast the words tumbled over themselves.
Yet except for the whoosh of the door as Dr. Frownfelter left the room and Peggy’s careful cleanup of the tray, the room was silent.
When Dr. Frownfelter returned, a mug in each hand, Peggy indicated Kateri, head resting on the mattress, sound asleep. “Still holding Rainbow’s hand.”
“This is going to be a tough one for her.”
Peggy took a blanket from the warmer and tucked it around Kateri. “Do you want me to call Stag Denali?”
“I already did it. He’s a big guy. Young. When he gets here, he can move her to the cot.” Dr. Frownfelter handed Peggy one of the mugs. “Come on, old girl, let’s do our final rounds and when the next crew comes in, we’ll head for home.”