When We Were Married Ch. 06B

"But," he said, stepping close to me and lowering his voice as if we were the only two people in the room, "I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you that anytime you start shaking up the brain you're messing with things you shouldn't mess with. I was told that you've been doing some amateur boxing."

"Yes."

"I won't tell you that you can't keep doing it, but I'd strongly suggest that you ALWAYS wear headgear. And if you ever drive a motorcycle, never, ever get on one without a helmet. You've been a very lucky man, Mr. Maitland, and you might stay lucky, but I wouldn't bet it all on staying that lucky. Understand me?"

I thanked him and asked him in passing how Officer Howser and James were doing. I knew they'd both been admitted, but I hadn't heard anything about either one since Saturday.

I knew in the instant that I asked the question - I just didn't know which one it was, but his face closed up. The old doc stepped forward. I guess he'd had more experience at it than his younger colleague.

"Sergeant Howser appeared to be responding well to treatment. His system suffered stress from the bullet wound and the collapsed lung was a strain on his heart. He had some problems that had never surfaced but they would have responded to medication. His physicians expected he'd been able to leave today."

"But?"

"Apparently, his wound resulted in a blood clot forming in his lung and it made its way to his brain last night. There was no warning - no way to really anticipate it or take action until it was too late. He suffered a major stroke at 2 a.m. It was....quick....if that makes a difference. I hope it did, for his sake. It is possible that it happened in his sleep and he was never aware of what was happening."

I felt myself sitting back on the hospital bed. The young doc stepped forward and grabbed my shoulder.

"Are you alright, Mr. Maitland? Sit back and take a few deep breaths. You can lay back on the bed for a moment if you're dizzy."

Phil Howser was gone. Why the hell had I agreed to meet with him, when I knew I was never going to change my mind about Shawn Smith. He'd still be alive today if I hadn't agreed to help him with a little internal politicking to keep his members happy.

It wasn't my fault, I knew. None of us had any idea what Shawn Smith was going to do. But, yet - he had saved my life, and it had cost him his.

"I'd like to see his room."

"His body was removed early this morning."

"I'd still like to see it. Is another patient in there?"

"No," said the old doc.

I stood at the entrance to the semi-private room where Phil Howser had breathed his last. The hospital bed he had died in was fresh and the sheets were tight and starched. I remembered the way he'd looked in the last moments before Shawn had burst in, relaxed and happy and holding court with his buddies.

"He liked you, you know."

I didn't want to turn and face her, but I made myself. She was a little shorter than me, a heavy set brunette with brilliant blue eyes and a normally ruddy complexion. Now she was pale and bloodless.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Howser. God, but I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Mr. Maitland," she said, looking around the room with the same expression I'd probably had. As if we neither one could believe that he still wasn't around here somewhere.

"He knew Shawn was wrong. He needed to pay for what he did. He just couldn't say it because they were both cops. But...he told me a few times that guys like you were the only good thing about those 'candy assed pencil pushing shysters in the SA'."

"That sounds like Phil. Are you...are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"

She looked back at me and licked her lips.

"No, I'm not okay. Both our kids are out of town. Bert is in the Army on a tour in Iraq and Molly is working at Jackson Memorial in Miami. She's an emergency room nurse. She's flying home tonight. I think Bert will be coming in in a couple of days. So it's just me.

"Used to be me and him.

"Now....it's just me.

"It feels....wrong."

"If there's anything I can do...."

"There's nothing anyone can do, nothing."

When she turned away and began to shudder silently, I stepped away from her and left the room. I could hear her crying I walked to a nurse's station and rang up Cheryl. Two of our female ASAs would be at the hospital within a half hour and would stay with her until her children showed up. She wouldn't have Phil, but she wouldn't be alone.

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

I was going to go by and visit James anyway, but I found that I had a bad feeling about him because of what had happened to Phil. I found out where he was and went up to his floor, in the intensive care unit. I know a gut shot is dangerous, but I wasn't sure why they'd have him there three days after the shooting.

As I approached the room a nurse moved to intercept me.

"I'm sorry, visitors aren't being allowed to see Mr. James."

"My name is Maitland. I'm the Assistant State Attorney who was shot Friday. James saved my life. Could you let me in there for just a moment to say hello?"

An older nurse stepped toward us and had heard me.

"You can go in, Mr. Maitland. His wife is in there with him, but we can bend the rules for just a moment. But..."

"What?"

"He's not well. He's running a high fever right now. He might not be too coherent."

"Why?"

"I won't bore you with the full name, but it looks like he's infected with one of the two or three super-resistant strains of bacteria that you find in a lot of hospitals today."

"Resistant? That means-"

"Only that it's going to be hard to knock down. We're hitting him with super doses of antibiotics. It will kill every bacteria in his body, hopefully, which will leave him vulnerable to anything around him for a few days or weeks until his natural resistance builds back up. If we can keep him alive, and if he's tough enough, he'll make it."

I noticed the 'ifs'. She wasn't being super-optimistic. I had known that bullets to the stomach or abdomen are bad news because they are good sites for all kinds of opportunistic infections. But a super bug on top of that? I decided I'd have somebody light a candle for him beside the ones I'd had lit for Dunleavy and O'Collins at the downtown Catholic church.

And I'd say an extra prayer. Most of the time I think it's just praying to a fantasy. But on the one in a million chance there was somebody or something up there actually listening, it couldn't hurt, and he deserved it.

I walked in behind her. He was a horse. He seemed to dwarf the bed, but he was tangled in cord and tubes. His skin still had that sickly gray sheen. A pretty black woman about a third his size held a cup with a straw up to him holding the straw to his mouth.

"C'mon baby, you need to drink. Just sip a little."

She didn't notice I was in the room until I had approached James from behind her. Sweat covered his face and there was the smell of male sweat in the room. He must have soaked through his hospital gown. And he was a big man so he could sweat a whole bunch.

I didn't register at first. I imagine so many doctors and nurses streamed through here that she was used to strangers walking in. But then she recognized me.

"You haven't done enough?"

Something about her tone roused the big man and he forced his eyes open. There was almost a smile on his lips.

"Maitland. God damn."

She was a very pretty woman. Deep, black eyes, lips that didn't look natural with the hard line that had frozen them now. Hair straight and down her back. She was petite but everything was there in abundance. James had been a lucky man until he ran into me.

"Mrs. James, I'm very sorry for what happened. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'd hate to think that you meant to put my husband into this hospital bed while you walk out of here."

"Elexus."

James managed to put a little strength into his voice.

"Baby, don't be that way. Maitland didn't shoot me. It was all Shawn. If the asshole hadn't been screwing around with that white woman.."

He started to cough and then spit up green slime. Elexus James put the cup down and grabbed a cloth. A nurse behind me bustled toward him and helped him sit forward. He coughed and spit for a moment and then calmed down. The nurse helped him lay back on the bed.

After a moment he opened his eyes again and said, "Got to tell 'ya, Maitland. I feel like shit. Probably look like shit too, right?"

I smiled at him and said, "You're still a fine figure of a man, James. I imagine the wife has to beat the nurses off you with a stick."

He lay back and closed his eyes, "...only in my dreams.....only in my...."

And then he apparently drifted off and I could hear him snoring in a moment.

I stood there but I couldn't think of anything else to say. Elexus James just continued to stare at me with a look that would have skewered me to the wall if it had had physical force.

Finally, I said, "James. I hope you feel better."

I reached over and took one his huge hands in mine. His skin was clammy and warm. I squeezed it twice, then let it go.

" Mrs. James, if there's anything I or the State Attorney's Office can do, call us."

I turned to walk out. She caught me before I hit the door, touching me on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Maitland. I know....I know...you didn't do this. You didn't put him here. But, we've been together since I was 13 and he was 16. I used to sneak out to meet him after my parents fell asleep. We've been together 20 years. Never been another man in my life. Never wanted anyone else. And they're not saying it, but - he could die. I never been so scared in my life. I don't know what to do. I don't know - if I even want to live if he goes. But we have a daughter. I can't leave her. I'm so damned scared."

"I know you're scared. The only person I've ever lost was my father when I was a little boy and I didn't know enough to be scared, but I know what you're feeling."

"The thing is - they thought I was dead and I survived. James is a big, strong guy. The nurse told me they're hitting him with every antibiotic they have. It depends on his will to live and he's got you and his daughter to live for. I think he'll make it. That's not much, but you have to have faith that he'll walk out of here. He's a good man. If there's any justice, he will."

I left her there holding his hand and wishing to God that my words would turn out to be true.

September 26, 2005 -- 3:45 p.m.

I walked back into the floor where my office was located and noticed the hush that swept through in my wake. Secretaries stopped their telephone conversations and stared at me. A couple of Assistants stepped out of their offices to stare at me also.

As I approached Cheryl's desk she stood up and I stopped. She came around the desk and hugged me - hard!

She was wetting my shirt, my black shirt. The Big Man had insisted on black a while back and I'd given in. I bought all my outfits in black, except for a couple of casual wear things, shorts and that kind of thing. Today I was dressed in black slacks, a black button down shirt and a black dress coat.

Finally I pushed her away.

"What is this, Cheryl. You're acting like I almost died or something."

Funny, but I felt tears welling in my eyes. I was turning into a fucking woman myself.

She sniffed.

"Don't make jokes, Bill. You could have died."

"I could get hit by a car crossing the street from the parking lot on my way into this building. It was pretty dramatic, I'll grant you that, but it's over, Cheryl. Now I just have to survive the media onslaught."

"God, tell me about it," she said, pulling back and checking out the bandages that wrapped the back of my head in a swath. "We've had over 200 calls from media outlets all over the world. There hasn't been much time to get any work done today. Of course, Mr. Edwards isn't TOO unhappy."

I grinned at her.

"As long as they spell his name right, right?"

I didn't wait for her to answer, but headed for my office. I opened the door and stopped. There was a tidal wave of paper on my desk, telephone notes and post-its. I pulled up the first few - New York Times, Sky News, the U.K. Guardian, then I started wading through the rest of the pile.

Six months ago I'd been an unknown Assistant State Attorney in a big/little Florida City/Town. My fellow lawyers here and there might have known me, but as far as a public presence, I was happily unknown. I had never wanted to be famous. Oh, I had the stray daydreams of fame and fortune but I'd never really needed that.

I had a wife I loved, two kids who were turning into insufferable pains in the asses as they were supposed to in their teens, a job I believed in and sufficient income. Who needed more than that.

Now I was the fucking Angel of Death and people around the globe were apparently vicariously living my life for me. I knew I'd have as much luck withdrawing back into my personal world as I'd had of convincing the Old Man to leave me alone.

Cheryl stuck her head in my door.

"We have another call. It's CBS in New York. You want to take it?"

"No, hold all my calls, all of them. If you think it's one I might want to take, stick your head in the door."

I sat down at my familiar desk and put my head in my hands, then buzzed Cheryl and asked her to get somebody to go down and get me a Starbuck's Cappuccino, mostly foam, and then tried to collect my thoughts.

Twenty minutes late my door opened without a knock and I looked up curiously. There was only one person who did that and I didn't expect him.

Austin Edwards walked in carrying my Cappuccino and handed it to me across the desk.

He sat down in the chair across from me and we looked at each other curiously for a minute or so. In the meantime I sipped the foam and licked it off my upper lip.

"Are you trying to steal my job?"

"That's been the plan for the last 10 years. When did you figure it out?"

"It's pretty obvious, based on the media interest and the calls I've been getting. I think some people want to put you in for Sainthood. Others just think I should abdicate, walk away and leave the office to that heroic Angel of Death who has no fear."

"It is kind of overwhelming. I feel like I'm going down a mountain with no way to stop."

"Get used to it. Calvin Coolidge and Teddy Roosevelt became public heroes and look what happened to them. You should start practicing your speeches."

"Not going to bother. Look, Austin, this is your bag. You're the guy with the ideas of making a better world, serving the public and all that other crap. All I am is a lawyer who knows how to talk and deliver a final argument. I like what I do and I think I'm pretty good at it. I'd be out of my depth doing anything else."

"Like they say, if you can learn to fake modesty, you can do anything."

I gulped more steamed milk.

"Do I have to move up my timetable for looking around for another job? Since there won't be a trial, I could start sending out resumes anytime. At your pleasure."

He shook his head and looked down at his fingers, which he'd steepled in front on him on my desk.

"No, whether you stay or not is up to you. Maybe you'd be uncomfortable working with me now. I won't ask you to stay on if things have gone too sour for you to be able to keep working here."

"Not up to me, Austin. You told me when this was over you wanted me to move on. Odds are you're still going to be hurt by this, so what's changed?"

He stared into my eyes. I felt the old awe come over me for a minute. I'd been a fledgling prosecutor when he had hired me, mentored me and finally gave me a chance to do something that very few men or women my age and with my experience got to do. He'd been the man I looked up to and tried to model myself after. Even now, I thought that in a lot of ways he was a better man and a better attorney than I'd ever be.

"You know, I hope you know, that it was more about my opinion of the case than pure politics. I really thought there was serious doubt about whether we should be pursuing him. I honestly thought you'd gotten your personal problems mixed up in this case and the thing - with Debbie - had made you harder than you used to be."

"You know as well as I do the power we wield. We can crush people if we want to, and get away with it. I'd always thought you'd done as good a job as anybody I ever saw in using the power of the office the right way. After Debbie, I really thought you were just pissed at life in general and that was coloring the way you thought and your decisions. Now..."

He looked down at his hands, then back at me.

"I need to know, for my own peace of mind, that you know I wasn't willing to sell my soul to reach the Governor's Chair. It wasn't all political calculation."

"I know that, Austin. I knew it was a close call and that an honest man might come down differently than I did. I knew the political end of it bothered you, but it was more than that. If it had been simply that I thought you were trying to cover your ass, protect your run next year for Governor, I would have walked, right then, and gone public, because I couldn't have kept working for you. But I know you better than that. You forget, I've worked for you for 10 years. I know the kind of man you are. You're more than just another politician."

"So you want to stick around?"

"Until you ask me to leave."

I finished slurping the rest of the Cappuccino and licked the foam mustache off my upper lip.

He stood up.

"By the way, I've already had a preliminary poll run and it matches the calls I've had. There are a lot of African Americans in this community who are happy we didn't let a cop get away with murder, regardless of his color, and what Smith did shooting at his own fellow officers has pretty much eliminated all of the support he had at the Cop Shop. The general public just thinks we prosecute bad guys no matter who they are or where they work, and that's what they want.

"The only problem I see is that more people are starting to know your name than mine. "

But he smiled when he said the last.

"So doing good paid off?"

"Looks like it."

"Who would'a thought?"

He was almost to the door when he stopped and looked back at me.

"A little birdie told me that you rode to the hospital without Debbie, who was there somehow when this was going down, and I think she was kind of wanting to ride with you."

I nodded.

"And I believe your French girlfriend called you in the hospital. Is she flying back to your side?"

I just shook my head no.

"So you're in between romantic entanglements?"

"On the administrative chart, where does being nosy about your subordinates' romantic lives fit?"

"A good administrator is always concerned about his staff being happy and content. A happy and contented staff is a productive staff. Managerial science 101."

"If it will allow you to rest easier at night, no, I don't have anybody in my life right now. As far as important relationships go, I'm batting zero for two."

He put his hand on the doorknob.

"I just thought you should know that a female member of my staff has been very interested in your personal life since your -- blowup -- with Debbie occurred. She waited patiently for you to get past Debbie only to see Aline des-Jardins swoop in and grab you. Now that you're between women, I thought you might think about at least asking her out for a coffee or something."

"Do I know this lady?"

"You see her every time you come up to my office."

A couple of things kept me quiet for a moment.

"Are we talking about-"

"Yes."

"Austin...I...we....she..."

He just waited me out.

"Okay, Austin, assuming you're serious. One, why in the hell would she need to have you run interference for her. Every male in this building would give his left nut, or both, to have a chance at her. She probably is wined and dined every night. She sure as hell doesn't need me. Secondly, why didn't she pick up the phone or come by here. And lastly....what about...I mean....you...."