9
"Is Jack gonna be all right, Mom?"
Disembodied voices echoed faintly around Jack. He tried identifying them but his mushy brain was having difficulty focusing.
The last one, a child's voice… what was her name? Vicky. That was it. But she sounded as if she were at the far end of the Lincoln Tunnel. He tried to open his eyes to find her but the lids weighed tons.
"Of course, honey," said another voice, female, older… Gia's voice. But she sounded even farther away—the Jersey side of the Holland Tunnel. "He's been sick like this before. Remember last summer?"
"I don't like to think about last summer."
"I know you don't. But remember after all the scary times were over and he was hurt and sick and we nursed him?"
"Yes."
"Well, this is like that time."
"But Jack had a doctor then."
"So to speak."
Even in his delirium agony Jack had to smile. Gia had never had much faith in Doc Hargus.
He felt the once cool, now warm washcloth peeled from his forehead.
"Here, honey. Go run some cold water over this again."
Over the fading patter of Vicky's retreating footsteps Jack heard Gia's voice, low and close to his ear.
"Jack, are you listening?"
"Nnnngh."
"Jack, I'm scared. You've got a temperature of a hundred-and-four and I don't know what to do for you."
He managed to put two words together. "Dc Hrgs."
Doc Hargus had had some run-ins with officialdom over the years, so his license wasn't exactly current. But that didn't mean he didn't know his stuff, just that it wasn't legal for him to practice. Jack had entrusted his life to him before, and he'd do it again.
"I've called him three times." He could hear the tension in Gia's voice. "All I get is his answering machine, and he hasn't called back."
"Mnth zit?" Jack said.
"Month? Don't you even know? It's June."
Hell. Hargus went to Arizona every June to visit his grandkids. So much for help from him.
"I'm scared, Jack. You looked like you were in a coma before."
Coma? As in comatose? With this fever, more like coma-toast.
"I'm going to call an ambulance."
"Nuh!"
"Please, Jack. I'm afraid you're dying!"
Couldn't go to a hospital. Too many questions, too many bean counters prying into the nooks and crannies of his life in search of money.
"Nut dine. Nuh husptl."
"I can't take this any more, Jack. I just can't sit here and watch you boil inside your skin. I'm getting help."
As Gia rose Jack slid his hand across the covers and clutched her arm. Not hard enough to haul her back—no way he had the strength for that—but the gesture stopped her.
Had to think. Couldn't let her wheel him into an ambulance.
Abruptly she pulled away. "Why didn't I think of this before? How dumb can I be?"
What was she doing? Wanted to cry out for her to stop. Please, Gia. No EMTs! I'll be fine. Just need some heavy rest. Don't do this to me! But his voice was gone.
His dread was swamped by the overwhelming fatigue that engulfed him and took him under again.