Occupational Hazzards
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
From a fog I heard a kind voice struggling to get my
attention.
"Travis, can you hear me? C'mon, I need to see you
eyes...everything's all right...Travis...Travis?
You're OK...we're taking care of you...Buddy wants
know how you're doing...Travis?"
I tried to focus and finally succeeded in making out
the face mouthing my name. When the picture sharpened,
I was treated to a toothy grin from a homely lady
dressed in white.
"Welcome back! I'm Frieda. I'm your nurse. You've bee
resting here in the infirmary for several days...are
you following me?"
I nodded an affirmative at Frieda.
"Great! Your friends are here and doing fine...can you
see?"
I attempted to swivel my head in the direction Frieda
indicated but my muscles wouldn't respond.
"Yo boss," I heard from Buddy to my left. "Sounds like
you're back with us...I'm over here...can ya see?
Dana's here too but she's not talking yet."
I tried to vocalize but when I moved my tongue, pain
erupted in my mouth...the needle...
"You should get your faculties back before long...the
first step was waking up," Frieda said.
Freida continued talking but I quit listening as my
world again faded to black. I awoke later to the same
room but it was obviously night. A light glowed in the
hallway through the half opened door. I heard snoring
to my left. I began taking an assessment of my
surroundings. I was in a clean-smelling bed, and
according to Frieda, in the infirmary. I was obviously
not alone as I heard snoring and I thought I recalled
hearing Buddy's voice before. He said Dana was OK. Why
wouldn't she be OK? And I began sorting through my
mental filing cabinet. It didn't take long to
reassemble the prior set of events that apparently
resulted in me lying in the infirmary. I recalled best
the events leading to Philip Johnson's justifiable
murder. The subsequent treatment of Dana, Buddy and me
by...by...our own people left me totally confused. I
mulled those events over while inventorying my
physical condition.
I was immobile, not specifically because I lacked the
capacity to move, but more so due to being weighted by
arm splints, intravenous tubes and traction bars. Able
to move only my eyes, I glanced down at my torso to
discover that whatever wasn't bandaged or supported
was smeared with a shiny, greasy ointment...burn
dressing...over so much of my totally hairless skin .
I shifted my gaze to the left and saw the bed emitting
the snoring sounds. Must be Buddy, I surmised. I could
see no further due to the limits of my peripheral
vision and the lack of light. My eyes closed again
until I was rousted later again by Frieda.
"Somebody hear to see you," Frieda chirped.
My bed was adjusted so I was sitting up and opposite
me, arranged in a pinwheel configuration, was Buddy
and Dana, also raised in their respective beds. I was
overjoyed to see that Dana's eyes were opened--shocked
as well to see her bandage-encased form. Buddy looked
pretty near to be his old self save for the
multi-colored solutions entering both his arms and
groin from the overhead IV bottles.
Frieda stood at the center of our three-bed radius
circle with a tray of orange juice cartons.
"Anybody ready for some Florida sunshine?" she asked.
"Mister Lemming is stopping in as soon as I let him
know your alert," she added as she poured the juice.
I attempted to ask who was Lemming as well as greet my
wounded friends but my rigid tongue prevented me
saying anything other than,
"Ooo itsh Lemmig? Anna, Buuie! R ooo OKaaa?"
Buddy threw his head back and howled with laughter
while Dana greeted by vocalization with a sympathetic
smile and positive nod.
Dana said, "Looks like we'll all recover fully
according to Nurse Frieda and the doctors. By the way,
Lemming is Cooper's CEO. You ought to be able to talk
plain once your tongue loosens up...I imagine it's
pretty stiff; Frieda says the more you use it, the
quicker it'll become functional."
I think Dana blushed a bit at that comment. Buddy was
about to comment when a very well dressed, dark haired
man entered our room--had to be Lemming.
"Good morning Ms. Simpson, gentlemen," Lemming greeted
us.
"Mr. Lemming," Dana responded almost reverently.
"This entire incident was a tragedy from the start,"
Lemming began. "Philip Johnson was always the wild
hair within our organization; he began to become
totally irrational in the past several months. Mr.
James, I want to personally thank you for your loyalty
in the abortive attempt to placate Johnson. I was a
courageous thing to do and something I won't forget.
And Buddy, you were placed in an unenviable
position--your loyalty to the organization was forced
into an opposite position as per your loyalty to Mr.
James. Finally gentlemen, Ms. Simpson arguably is this
unfortunate situation's unsung hero. She authorized
Mr. Johnson's expulsion with the full understanding of
the consequences,"
Lemming could easily see that I was totally befuddled.
His audience had undergone terrible physical abuse and
one of his compatriots had been killed. Yet here he
stood, praising us and intoning rewards. Lemming
speech continued.
"Puzzled I see Mr. James. You must understand that we
cannot condone the removal of any of our members by an
employee. Dana realized she and Buddy would have to
serve as an example. She also knew that the other
employees would be administering the punishment least
they be tempted to reveal any details of our recent
misadventures. Bottom line: Ms. Simpson saved your
life and helped our group by relieving us all of Mr.
Johnson. She made this decision knowing she would have
to pay a dear price. Johnson will be buried tomorrow.
His estate, as would any Cooper member's, will be
bequeathed to the organization."
I looked at Dana with an obvious expression of awe.
She managed a weak smile.
"Tank ooo." I mouthed to her while sending Buddy back
into convulsions. Dana nodded in return.
"I must be going," Lemming said. "Your caregiver
Frieda says you're all progressing well and should be
up and around in short order. Let her know if you need
anything; she has my personal authorization to get it
for you. I thank and commend you all. I'm proud you're
a part of the Cooper Organization."
Lemming did a slow about face and left us.
"What a nice man," Frieda said. "He's right, he told
me, 'anything they want Frieda.' So, what'll it be?"
"Sleep...but first a cigarette," I said with an actual
bit of tongue movement.
"Oh no! He's starting to talk right," Buddy said to my
raised middle finger which got Dana laughing.
Dana and I were wheeled to a screened porch connected
to the infirmary. Frieda had procured our respective
brands of cigarettes as well as some diluted white
wine.
Dana spoke first following our savoring of the first
toke on our smokes.
"I don't want to whine but there is no part of me that
doesn't hurt."
"I empathize totally and the great state of confusion
seconds the motion," I replied. "What the hell is this
all about?"
"Tough few days, wasn't it?" Dana began rapidly
exhaling a large lungful of smoke. "Looks like we came
out of it OK though...with M. Lemming I mean. I've
only met him twice and then only got to shake his
hand. I'm totally relieved he seems OK with all this."
Dana's green eyes bore into me and her speech sped up,
transforming into a stream of consciousness flow.
"I knew I was going to die when Carl was punching me
in the stomach. I thought you were already dead
because when I was able to open my eyes I could only
see you hanging unmoving and bleeding and your chest
oozing from the burns and my God Travis! your nipples
were gone! And Buddy was screaming and my shoulders
felt they were going to rip off after every fist in my
belly and Carl just kept beating me and..." Dana
erupted into a hyperventilated, sobbing fit.
"Whoa!" I cautioned. "It's over and we're safe now.
Having a cigarette and enjoying life."
I took Dana's empty glass with my splinted left arm
and, with total lack of grace, refilled it with my
other splinted arm.
"Sip this slowly and catch your breath," I advised. As
she sipped and sniffed, I rubbed her right
forearm--her only visible unbandaged skin and the only
part I could reach.
"I know I have you to thank for saving my life." I
can't say I'm proud that you had to endure what you
did as punishment; however, I certainly am
grateful--Phil would have killed me. For you and Buddy
to finish him off...I'm just speechless. You knew the
organization would punish you like this?"
"Kind of...I knew that something would be done to me
as an example for others. I didn't know it was going
to be as intense though...after this, I don't think
I'd ever have the guts to do it again. If we ever got
in the same predicament, I afraid I'd be too scared to
do it again."
With as much strength as I could muster I told her,
"This will never happen again."
I continued stroking Dana's arm wishing I could wrap
myself around her and assure her that she was safe.
"Thank you again, Dana," I said to the still sobbing
woman who endured too much pain. "I owe you so much."
"No," she sniffled, "I don't want you to be
beholding--You'd have done the same for me. No, you'd
have never let it happen to me. You'd have killed Phil
where he stood the moment he suggested subjecting me
to the Cross. You'd have had no concern for the
goddamn organization or your career if our roles had
been reversed...Travis, I'm so ashamed..."
She was absolutely right. I have killed the person
who'd have hurt her and told her so. Then added in one
of history's worst Bogart impersonations: "Ya know, I
thing this is the beginning of a beautiful
relationship...".
Dana smiled while her tears flowed.
On to Chapter 18
