Johnny Winchester: River Hunter (4 page)

It was late afternoon before all the evaluations were
finally finished and the doctor, medical record in hand, came into the room,
sat on the short stool, and gave his report and prognosis.  Five broken
ribs and a dislocated shoulder, all on the left, some slight whiplash, multiple
contusions, multiple cuts, several of which required stitches.  No
concussion, no internal injuries.  Everything should heal fine, if cared
for adequately.  They would manipulate the
humerus
back into the
glenoid
fossa, clean and suture the
wounds, give her a tetanus shot (Suzi couldn’t remember when she’d had one
last), put her arm in a sling, write scripts for antibiotics and pain, and
release her.  He would be back with a nurse shortly.

Shortly turned out to be a long forty-five
minutes.  A nurse arrived with a sterile, metal tray holding an array of
syringes, piles of gauze squares, curved needles of different sizes, and
sutures of various weights.  It reminded Johnny of his fishing lines and
hooks laid out for his perusal as he decided which to use and he had to stifle
a smile.  The doctor followed, closing the door behind him.  They
started with the large slash on her left side, pulling back the linens and her
gown to expose the area, starting with a local anesthetic and a thorough
cleaning.  Thinking Johnny to be the husband, they went about their
business with little concern for modesty, and he wished he’d been more
assertive about his identity.  He wanted to bolt, but the needle was
threaded and the first stitch started and he would have to ask both the doctor
and nurse to move if he was going to get through the doorway.  Fighting
back the urge to blush a fire red, he decided, rather than drawing attention to
himself by pushing aside the doctor and racing out the door, he would hold
still and attempt invisibility.

Suzi, on the other hand, after giving birth twice in a
teaching hospital where every Tom, Dick, and Sherry wanted to watch and learn,
was not the least bit embarrassed.  Patiently, she endured the jabs of the
needle, the pressure of the sutures being drawn through her skin and tied
tight, and the delays in between.  Her side, her thigh, two wounds on her calf,
two on her arm, and one on her forehead, a total of one-hundred-and-two
stitches.  But the worst, she knew, was yet to come.

As the nurse cleaned up the debris, the doctor pulled
two x-rays from a large manila folder, snapped them onto a light box, and
flipped the switch.  Just looking at the gap between the shoulder and its
socket sent a chill up Johnny’s spine.  He wasn’t sure he was going to be
able to watch, so he averted his eyes while the doctor explained what he was
going to do, and waited for it to be over.  Though he’d braced himself for
Suzi’s voicing of her pain, he was only prepared for the gasps and groans he’d
heard before, the sharp shriek brought him to his feet.  The color had
drained from her face, her eyes were squeezed shut, exuding tears of
pain.  Johnny was at her side immediately, using every last gram of
self-restraint to keep from tackling the doctor and screaming at him to stop
hurting her.

“Relax, Mr. Cue,” the doctor ordered firmly.  “I
have to do this, you know I do.  It’s going to hurt, and I can’t do
anything about that.  If you want to help, hold your wife’s hand and keep
her still.”

Resisting the temptation to inform the doctor that his
name was
not
Cue and Suzi was
not
his wife, he instead followed
his directions and took Suzi’s hand in his.  The total feeling of
helplessness was eased a bit when he felt her relax, albeit almost
imperceptively, under his touch.  It was not unlike the feel of a captive
fish as it realizes the hands holding it are going to release their grip and
give it back its freedom.  After several more shrieks, the shoulder
finally slipped into place and Suzi relaxed her death grip on Johnny’s
hand. 

Looking up at Johnny, the doctor spoke directly to
him.  “You can get her dressed now and take her home as soon as the
paperwork is done.”  He turned and left the room.

Sighing, Johnny knew it was time to get serious. 
“I’m not the husband,” he said to the nurse.  “I only met her yesterday
and came with her to make sure she was okay.  I’m going to step out so you
can help her dress.”

The nurse grinned, greatly amused.  “I thought you
were looking away because you couldn’t stand to watch us sewing up your
wife.  We tend to make assumptions around here.  I’ll get her dressed
and get a sling for that arm.  Is there someone to stay with her tonight
at least?”

“Yes.  I’ll stay with her.”

“Okay, then.  I’ll go over the discharge
instructions with both of you.”

Nodding, Johnny went outside, closing the door behind
him.  Fishing his cell phone from his pocket, he found a taxi company and
called for a cab.  Then he paced up and down the hallway, glad to be
moving around a bit. 

The door to Suzi’s room opened, the nurse, holding the
handle, stood in front of it and motioned Johnny in.

“She’s decent,” the nurse said with a smile.

At this point, he reckoned he could see the humor in it
and smiled back, sheepishly.  “Thank you,” he said, stepping into the
room.  Suzi’s gown had been replaced by the bloodstained, torn clothing
she’d arrived in and Johnny wondered why he hadn’t thought to send to her hotel
for clean clothes.  But there was nothing to be done about it now. 
The head of the bed had been lowered, Suzi laid, head back, eyes closed, cheeks
devoid of color.  Johnny debated whether to disturb her, but the nurse’s
return took the decision from him.  The discharge papers were reviewed and
signed, a wheelchair appeared from somewhere, and, just as they reached the
emergency room doors, the taxi arrived.  It was an amazing flurry of
activity after a long day of delays and waiting.  Still, for the first
time since he had spotted Suzi’s red blouse on that beach, he felt as though
all might be well.

“What hotel are you staying at?” Johnny asked, helping
her into the back of the taxi and gently buckling her seat belt, being careful
of her left arm.

“The Whaler’s Inn,” she responded.  “I don’t
remember the address.”

“That’s okay,” said the taxi driver.  “I know right
where it is.  You just relax and I’ll get you there with as few bumps as
possible.  Were you in an accident?”

“Light aircraft crash,” Johnny responded.

“That one along the Lily Hannah River?”

“Yes.”

“They sent out a rescue party this morning, but I
haven’t heard any more news all day.”

Neither Johnny nor Suzi wished to talk about the crash,
but the taxi driver kept up a running conversation, engaging Johnny when he
could, for the entire drive, which, thankfully, was not long.

The glass door leading to the hotel lobby opened automatically
as soon as Johnny and Suzi shuffled in front of the motion detector mounted
above it.  Johnny had Suzi firmly by the elbow and she leaned heavily on
him.  As they approached the check-in counter, the older woman standing
behind it looked up, gasped, came around the counter, and hurried towards them.

“Ms. Cue!” she exclaimed.  “What happened to you?”

“An accident,” Suzi answered weakly.

“Oh, my dear!  Are you all right?  Of course,
you’re not all right.  Where are you hurt?”

“Some of my ribs on my left side are broken and my
shoulder was dislocated.  And some stitches.”

“That’s terrible!  Now, honey, what do you
need?  What can we do to help you?”

“Ms. Cue doesn’t have her key,” Johnny answered, knowing
Suzi was exhausted.  “If you could give us another one, I’ll get her to
her room and get her settled.”

“Certainly.  I’ll do even more than that,” she
replied, turning.  “Josh!” she called.  “Come here, I need you.”

A young bellhop came quickly out from an office behind
the desk. 

“Yes, Mrs. Pike,” he said, concerned.  “What do you
need?”  Then, noticing Suzi, he exclaimed, “Ms. Cue, are you all
right?  What happened to you?”

“She was in an accident and lost her key.  Go fetch
her another and help this gentleman get her to her room.” 

“Sure thing,” he answered, looking at Johnny, his eyes
widening in wonder.  Completely overwhelmed, he said, almost reverently,
“You’re that River Hunter, Johnny Winchester!”

“Yes,” Johnny said, holding out his hand. 
“Pleasure to meet you.”

Josh was frozen, so Mrs. Pike intervened.  “You’re
the River Hunter, huh?” she asked, shaking his hand.  “Yes, yes, you
really are!  I thought you looked familiar.  I had no idea you were
around here!  How do you come to know our sweet Ms. Cue?”

“Her accident was a plane crash and my crew and I were
nearby and found her,” Johnny explained as succinctly as he could.

“A plane crash?  That one on Lily Hannah River?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my dear!  How awful for you.”  She turned
again to Josh.  “Get that key.  Ms. Cue needs to get off her feet and
get some rest.” 

 “Yes, Ma’am,” he responded, heading for the desk.

“Now, if there is anything, anything at all we can do
for you, just ask.”

“If you could direct me to a pharmacy within walking
distance, that
would be most helpful.  There are
several prescriptions to fill,” Johnny said.

Mrs. Pike raised her hands in front of her, waving them
back and forth, shaking her head.  “Don’t you worry about those at
all.
  Let me have them and I’ll send Josh to get them
filled immediately.”

“Thank you.  Brilliant,” he said as he fished the
scripts from his pocket, handing them to her.

Josh ran back, waving the keycard in the air, then, his
awe apparently turning to nervous energy, escorted them to Suzi’s room while
talking fishing and asking questions all the way.  Johnny entertained the
questions with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, but he was dead
tired.  Suzi, quiet the entire way, concentrated only on Johnny’s strong
arm holding her upright, maintaining her forward momentum.  At long last,
they reached the room and Suzi found herself lying comfortably on her bed,
propped up with pillows, thinking she’d never felt anything more wonderful.

“If you need anything else,” Josh said as he made ready
to leave, “just call the front desk and we’ll send someone right away.”

“Thank you,” Suzi called weakly in tandem with Johnny’s
deep voice also offering his thanks.

“Are you comfortable?” Johnny asked her.

She nodded.  “I could really use something to eat,
though.”

“I’ll call room service.  What do you want?”

Sighing, she responded, “Oh, anything.”  She
paused.  “Well, not fish.  Maybe a grilled cheese sandwich and a
house salad.  Do you think they have that?”

“If the reception you got at the desk is any indication,
I reckon they’ll make anything you want,” he responded.  Picking up the
phone, he pressed the button for room service and ordered for Suzi and
himself.  “I have a couple phone calls I need to return while we wait for
dinner and your prescriptions.  Will you be all right on your own for a
few minutes?”

“Sure,” she answered.  “As long as you’re done in
time to get the door because I’m not sure I’m ever going to get up again!”

Smiling, revealing the dimples under the emerging gray
stubble, he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll answer the door.”  Stepping onto the
balcony, he retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, pressed a few buttons,
and, following a short pause, started talking. 

Surreptitiously, Suzi watched him making calls,
wondering why he was staying with her.  Saving her life would be great
press, riding with her in the helicopter was an added bonus, but she wasn’t
sure why leaving her in the care of the attentive staff wasn’t enough. 
Perhaps he was milking the situation for all it was worth, getting as much
‘rescue story’ as he could manage.  After all, there could never be enough
good publicity.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted her
thoughts.  Johnny hung up the phone, strode across the room, and opened
the door.  It was Josh holding a wide tray containing various dishes and a
large pharmacy bag.  He stepped in, put it all on the desk and, wishing
Suzi well once more, left. 

Opening the paper bag, Johnny meted out the prescribed
meds (two kinds of antibiotics and two pain pills), put them on the edge of her
plate,
then
asked, “How do you want to do this?”

“Put a pillow on my lap and set the plate on it.”

He complied and she picked up a fork to start on the
salad.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Room service is a very important part of any vacation,”
she stated between mouthfuls. 

He couldn’t help but smile.  Most of the meals on
his trips consisted of fish he’d caught during the course of the day and cooked
over a campfire.  Sitting in the chair in front of the desk, he started on
his own meal and related the results of the phone calls.  “They didn’t
find the plane today.  They’re back at camp tonight and will look again
tomorrow.  The NTSB inspector arrives tomorrow and he’ll want to talk to
you at some point.  But let’s not worry about that right now.”  Then
he motioned towards the couch opposite the desk where he sat.  “If you
don’t mind, I’ll camp out on your couch tonight.  I don’t want you to be
alone...those are pretty strong antibiotics and they can have some nasty side
effects.  So I’ve sent for my things.”

Confused, Suzi had to ask.  “Some one’s bringing
them from the camp?”

Johnny smiled.  “No.  We only take what we
absolutely need when we go on a shoot.  We stored everything else
here.  Also, I changed your flight from Saturday to Sunday.  I hope
that’s okay.  I just don’t think you’ll be ready to travel by Saturday.”

Traveling sounded like the last thing on earth she
wanted to do, so she nodded.  With all the news relayed, they fell into
silence while they finished their meal.  Once the pain pills took hold,
the mud, grime, and crusted blood was more bothersome than the pain and she
knew she wouldn’t sleep well until it was all washed away.  So as soon as
Johnny picked up the dinner dishes, she pulled her legs slowly over the side of
the bed.