When We Were Married Ch. 06B

I kept drifting off from time to time. In snatches of dream pieces of the previous night and today came drifting in and out of my consciousness.

###############

Noon:

"Dad. Dad."

BJ and Kelly walked quickly across the private room that the Big Man had procured for me. Debbie walked behind them. Three nurses hovered around. My head was covered in bandages where the plastic surgeon had tried to repair the damage from Smith's bullet. The drugs they'd given me kept me flashing in and out.

I could read the looks on both their faces so I smiled at them.

"It's okay. I look a hell of a lot worse than I really am. I just got a graze across the back and side of my head and they went and sewed it up.."

When they reached me, BJ grabbed my hand, the one with a needle stuck in it, while Kelly stood behind him and grabbed the other.

I couldn't help tears appearing in my eyes.

"It's okay, guys. It's lucky your mom was there last night. Everybody thought I was dead until she showed up and brought me back to life."

Both of them looked back at her where she stood silently. I read the glances and I could almost feel sorry for her. She'd ended her life with me and she'd done damage I hadn't realized to her relationship with the children. I'd wanted her to pay for what she'd done, and only now did I realize that she really was paying for her actions and might for a long, long time.

There was a time I would have loved it, but those emotions had been growing more muted as time went by and I realized that I wanted her to have a good relationship with them. It didn't take away or change anything between us, but they needed a mother.

"Dad, you gotta stop doing stuff like this," BJ said, "I got enough flak about you when they started calling you the Angel of Death, but now - I'm never going to get any action if every girl I try to hook up with is afraid that Heaven's going to be watching us every step of the way."

Kelly half-heartedly slapped him on the shoulder.

"He's such an idiot Dad, but he's right. You gotta stop getting into situations like this. I'm supposed to worry about keeping gold diggers and whores away from you, not letting them take advantage of you because you've been out of the scene for so long, without having to worry about whether some cop is going to shoot you."

I'd been able to stem the flow of tears without looking too stupid. I shook my head as much as I could and said, "I'm sorry guys. I never expected things would turn out this way but it's what I do. Nothing like this will probably ever happen again."

"He's right," Debbie said, the first words she'd uttered since entering the room, as she walked up to my bed. "We were married for nearly 20 years and he's worked as a prosecutor for more than 10 years - nothing like this has ever happened before. It probably won't ever happen again."

We exchanged glances that the kids didn't pick on and I knew she knew about the Welaka Cannibal and his threats, and probably other things I'd always foolishly thought I'd protected her from. I'd come to realize she knew more about my life than I'd ever thought. Maybe if I hadn't tried to protect her...

I shut the thought off. What was done was done and I couldn't change the past.

The phone rang. They were supposed to screen my calls and leave messages at the front desk because the damn thing had rung almost continuously most of the night until the hospital administration let the nurses on call know to hold ALL calls and simply give me a list every few hours, and that only because I'd insisted. Ninety percent were media calls, a few were from people at the State Attorney's or Public Defender's Offices and one was from Sheriff Knight. Nothing that I couldn't call back on.

A moment later an attractive brown-haired nurse, who looked to be in her late 30s or early 40s, walked in quickly and leaned over, whispering in my ear.

"The call was from a gentleman who said you would know him as The Old Man."

She stared at me with the first beginnings of alarm on her face.

"He told me my home address, what music my daughter is listening to on her IPOD in her bedroom, and...."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she leaned in closer, whispering with a glance at Debbie and the kids.

"He......told me.....about the affair I'm having with a friend of my husband. We've only met on Fridays when my husband is out of town. Nobody in the world knows about it except...the man and myself. The....Old Man said if you didn't pick up his next call my husband will receive photographs of ....my friend and I..."

She stopped.

"Please take the call. I love my husband, no matter what you might think. I can't...he would..."

"I'll take it. Get out and don't worry. He's....he likes cruel practical jokes. He won't do anything to you. Trust me. I've known him for a long time. He was just trying to get my attention."

Debbie had heard part of that and her eyes showed her alarm. I motioned to her and the kids.

"I'm sorry, guys, I have to take this. Give me a moment, but don't leave."

In thirty seconds the phone rang again. I picked it up. There was a brief silence, a clicking sound and then a faint static and I heard his voice.

"Hello, Mr. Maitland."

"Hello."

"I trust you are recovering. Our sources within the hospital's medical department said your wounds were not believed to be life threatening but they are taking no chances."

"That was a cruel thing you did."

There was a dry laugh.

"You might have heard, I can be cruel if the occasion calls for it."

I knew he had killed many men and women, had watched men tortured to death, had men and women torn apart in front of him by other men and animals in medieval torments.

"As far as I know, those have all been for business, for matters that you considered crucial to your survival. Tormenting this poor woman wasn't worthy of you."

"What did I do, Mr. Maitland? I did not threaten her family or herself physically. I merely let her know that her betrayal of her husband, that poor, blind, hardworking idiot of a husband, has not gone unnoticed. Do you think that if I, through my contacts, could not discover her adultery in a few minutes, that her poor, blind husband will never stumble upon it?"

There was a short silence. Again the static on the line and the clicking.

"You think that was cruel? To give her a chance to save her marriage, to possibly spare her husband from...the pain that you know all too well? Tell me what I did that was so terrible?"

He was as intelligent as he was cold blooded and possibly even a little more dangerous because of all that. When you have almost limitless power and no moral compass at all, there were no limits to what you could do.

"Why are you calling?"

"Just to check in. When we heard that you had nearly been killed, I was notified and we investigated. This appears to be merely the act of an unhinged man so there is nothing for me to do. I am glad that you came through mostly untouched. I am told the bullet wound should leave no appreciable scar."

"As always, your sources are impeccable. I'm grateful that you are continuing to watch over me."

There was another silence, longer this time.

"You know that I have never loved anything in this life, except for one person. And now there is nothing I love because he died without heir and my line died with him. But he died with dignity and in peace because of you. You didn't know who he was and had no reason to treat him as you did, but you did because of the man you are. I can never repay the debt I owe you in this life, but I can try."

There was another long silence and then I said, "I'm sure you've heard of the Mexican Cartel whose man is scheduled to be tried in the U.S."

"Yes, and the Cartel has already moved against anyone they think will take part in that prosecution. I think I know more than you do."

"Yes?"

"They are already planning ahead and there is one thing they fear."

When I didn't respond, he said, "That is you. The Angel of Death has acquired mythic status among many of the poor in Mexico and nearby countries. The Mexicans are queer for anything having to do with death, and the Angel of Death overlays the pre-Columbian myths about death gods. The Cartel leadership is hoping the trial doesn't come to your office."

"They're frightened of a media myth?"

"Myths are real to those who believe in them and, if the trial does come to you, the Cartel faces a very real danger."

"They face a danger?"

"They cannot allow you to prosecute their man. They would lose so much face rivals would pop up because the myth of their invincibility will have been shattered."

"If they kill me that would solve that problem."

"True, but if they try and fail...."

I thought about that, then, "It's still a long way between here and there, but it brings up a point we need to discuss."

"You need say nothing. If they move against your family, they will pay."

"And I will be your man and you will own me."

"Yes."

"Acceptable. If they hit my family, my life is over anyway. And if they hit me..."

"Protection of your family is guaranteed if we have to kill every last one of them."

"Then it is agreed. I'd appreciate your keeping an eye on things for me. And if they take out my family and myself....unleash hell upon all of them."

"To the last drop of my blood and all who follow me."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Mr. Maitland."

I hung up the phone softly. Whenever I had spoken with him, on the few occasions it had occurred, I always felt like I had crossed over into another realm of being, as far as you could get from the real 9-5 world that most people live in. It wasn't a pleasant experience but it wasn't anything I'd asked for. I had simply showed mercy to another human being and wound up being ensnared in a dark and deadly world that I wanted no part of.

But the Old Man who felt he owed me a debt couldn't be persuaded or threatened into leaving me alone. It was like walking through a dark wood and finding a huge and dangerous wolf dogging your tracks and leaping to engage anything that threatened you. You might not want or need his protection, but how did you call him off? It was a trick I hadn't figured out in more than seven years. Maybe I never would. Until he died, and hopefully those who followed wouldn't feel the obligation he did.

But for right now, that presence of a huge, dark and dangerous criminal organization that had my back, as I glanced at my ex-wife, son and daughter, made me feel better about my life.

As I gestured and they walked back toward my bed, Debbie said quietly, "Who was that?"

"Just a....man who was concerned about my welfare. He's a friend, of sorts."

"I think everybody in the world must have heard about what happened," BJ said excitedly. "I tuned into a French broadcast channel I caught on my friend's Direct TV universal channel and caught a news broadcast. I couldn't understand what they were saying-"

"You would have if you'd paid attention in your French classes," Kelly interjected. As usual, BJ ignored her.

"The only class you paid attention to was Sex Ed.," BJ said, continuing, "Anyway, they showed Dad's picture and some of the shots of people being taken out of the cop shop and I heard what I thought was 'The Angel of Death' in French and I know I heard his name -- William Maitland. France! They were showing it on French television. Can you believe that?"

"Yes, I can believe that and I am sure that there are people in France who will be fascinated to hear about your father's brush with death - some people in particular."

All of us picked up the ice in her voice. The two younger Maitlands couldn't help smiling. I kept my face neutral. I'd known she was jealous of Aline, but I hadn't realized how jealous.

The timing of what came next couldn't have happened again in a million years. It was impossible, but sometimes impossible coincidences do happen.

The phone rang. I ignored it, but a moment later the attractive nurse stuck her head back in the door.

I guess after the last time she wasn't taking any chances.

"Mr. Maitland, there's a lady, French I think, on the phone. She says her name is Aline. You want to take her call? I've got her on hold."

"Send her call through."

It was as if Debbie and I were the only people in the world.

I remembered the last time she had looked at me like that. It was when she had walked in on Amy Sunderland and me fucking on CC's yacht. I had felt guilty for no good reason then but I didn't feel guilty now. I just played back the memory of her going to Doug's aid the night of that UNF ceremony and made myself feel what I'd felt then.

I held her gaze while I said, "Hello, Aline."

There was a terrible hurt in her eyes but I made my heart a stone. She had no right to be hurt by anything I did anymore.

"Bill, are you alright?"

I had thought the pain of losing this woman had gone, but it was as if the morning she had left me alone had never happened. It didn't help that she sounded like she was in the next room.

"I'm good, Aline. Better than good since I'm alive. My son just told me the shooting was on the news in Paris. I couldn't believe it was that big a story."

"As always Bill, you underestimate yourself. The attempted murder of The Angel of Death, a shootout between a rogue police officer and a whole room full of armed officers, has been around the world, I believe."

"What did Philippe have to say about my brush with death?"

"I.....I don't know, Bill. He is...he is still at his office. I heard about what they are calling The Massacre when I logged onto the news. Andre is with friends so I took the subway into downtown Paris and found a public phone."

"You didn't want to call me on your home phone or cell? Why?"

There was a long silence.

"I....you must have known that Philippe was with me when I wrote you that email. It -- I would have written it differently if I were alone and not afraid he would find it."

"What do you have to be afraid of, Aline.?"

"I...Bill...it's different. I..."

"What is it, Aline? What aren't you telling me?"

For the first time since the shooting I wasn't thinking about myself or Debbie.

"Bill....it's just that....you remember I told you that I wouldn't know if our marriage would survive until I could look into his eyes. I have looked into his eyes. We have talked. I have been honest with him and I still don't know. For the first time in our lives, I look at him and his eyes are closed to me."

"You were honest with him. About...everything?"

"I was too honest. I know he is hurt, although he hasn't said anything. Both of us have been with others. I thought - I hoped - that we could move beyond....my time with you. He has no reason to be hurt."

For the first time I heard anger in her voice.

"God knows, he has been with many other women and, although he claims to have been discrete, I know who they are - many of them. I've seen them, seen the look in their eyes when we are together. I've lived with that because I've had to. And now - now - because I have been with one man he knows, he is acting the wounded martyr."

"I'm sorry, Aline. I didn't mean for...what we had....to damage your marriage."

"It's not your fault, Bill. None of this is your fault. Philippe and I set the ground rules. We agreed, without many words, but we had an understanding. And he is the one who has broken that agreement! I will not feel guilty for doing what he has done times beyond number."

There was a long silence. I looked up and saw BJ and Kelly exchanging glances. They could only hear my side of the conversation -- much of it -- but they were old enough to put the pieces together. I looked beyond them to Debbie. If looks could kill I would have been only a radioactive spot on the bed in which I lay.

"So....what.."

"Is going to happen? I don't know, Bill. I do not wish to hurt you, but I still have feelings for him. We have made a life together and there is Andre. I cannot just walk away but, I do not know if he wants to be with me. Perhaps only time will tell."

She was silent again. Then:

'I have no right to ask. I am with another man. I have told you that I love him. I am in his bed. You owe me nothing at all, but....If....I know I hurt you when I left that morning. But I could not say goodbye and leave. I took the coward's way out.

"I have done nothing but cause you pain on top of what your Debbie has done to you. Still, if..."

"What I feel for you hasn't changed, Aline. I can't say what will happen if you decide to come back, but I know what I feel right now."

"I love you, Bill Maitland. I am in another man's bed and his life, but I love you. Take care. Don't take foolish chances with your life, because it is precious to me."

"I love you too. Take care. Au Revoir."

I met the eyes of my children and I knew something important had changed in an instant. They looked at me very differently than they had when they'd walked into the room minutes before. Their mother and I were divorced and they were old enough to understand what that meant. They had seen Aline in the flesh and the way I looked at her, but there must have been something in the back of their minds, some memory of when our marriage had been good, that left a faint hope.

And now it was gone.

I looked into Debbie's cold eyes and saw that they glistened. I remembered the look of contempt she had shown me as she stood with her tall young stud boyfriend in the UNF Arena. I remembered how small, old and alone I had felt in that moment. Only a stubborn core of anger had pushed me not to walk away with my tail between my legs.

I remembered her telling me to pay someone for sex because it was obvious I was not man enough to attract any woman on my own merits.

I remembered the first nights I had spent on the River listening to cars in the night, lying alone in a strange bed and knowing the woman I'd loved for half my lifetime was in another man's arms. And there was nothing I could do about it.

There was a part of me that wanted to comfort her. Maybe I couldn't kill it out. Maybe I would always love her, but there would be no comfort now. She had brought all of this on herself. I had pulled myself out of the pit with no help from her. Let her find her own way.

We stared at each other until she finally lowered her eyes and walked out of the room. BJ and Kelly looked at her as she left and then Kelly bent down to kiss me on the cheek and BJ squeezed my hand.

"We'd better go," Kelly said, gesturing toward the doorway.

"Yeah, go on. All this has been a shock for your mom, too. She thought I was dead or dying last night."

"That's not what she's upset about," Kelly said.

"I know but, anyway, I'll probably be out of here by tomorrow. I'll call you guys and keep you up to date. Okay?"

#############

September 26, 2005 -- 12:30 p.m.

They had already checked me out. A young doctor and an old doctor had given me the results of all the tests that they'd tormented me with for 48 hours. Boiled down, they couldn't find anything wrong with me. Other than a lingering headache and a slight ringing in my ears which they said was to be expected when someone fired a high powered pistol at your head from a few feet away, bouncing the bullet off your head.

The headache would probably go away in a day or two and the ringing might last a week or two but it would go away, said the older balding doc with a fringe of white hair running around the back of his head between his ears making him look like a wise old Greek philosopher.

The tall dark-haired young doc, who the nurses couldn't keep their eyes off, had stepped in after the old doctor and warned me, "Apparently you've managed to avoid all of the bad effects of having your brains rattled twice in a lifetime. You could have died 20 years ago and there's evidence on the CAT scan of some residual scarring from that old injury, but nothing serious. And you got past this one.