“Danny?” Dad shook me. “Danny, what?”
I looked up, no longer in the cat’s mind, but back on the side of the interstate with five worried faces staring at me. Dad sent the other dudes back to the car to get help.
“Huh?” I asked, wiping my mouth of vomit.
“Danny, what did you say about President Rickover?”
I swallowed. “Dad, remember when I gave you that stock tip, and told you not to drive that day the accident happened on the expressway?” He nodded. “Well, tomorrow some guy’s going to shoot Felice’s Dad in the head at the museum’s grand opening.”
“Danny,” Dad said helplessly.
“Dad, you’ve got to do something. Don’t tell them, they won’t believe me.”
“You know who he is?”
“Some guy with a cat. A tortoiseshell. Dark hair, blue eyes. He looks like everyone. He has a rifle.”
“What kind?”
“Like that short sniper rifle made of composite so it doesn’t show up in x-rays or metal detectors. Is Felice’s Dad supposed to be there tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Dad said. “A last-minute change of plans… How did you know this, Danny?”
“He told me. The guy with the rifle.”
“Danny, you telling me you read minds?”
“No, Dad. I can’t read minds. I hear things see things, sometimes. Like through their eyes.”
“The people’s eyes?”
“No, Dad. Through their pets’ eyes. Dogs, cats, birds. Even wild animals. It’s like I’m in their heads, seeing through their eyes, hearing through their ears.”
He started to say something, stopped and then said, “The stock tip?”
“I heard a broker, talking on the phone to his partner. His dog was in the room, a big black lab.”
“How do you pick the animals, Dantan?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes, they just suck me in. No rhyme or reason. Doesn’t usually make me sick either.”
Dad said, “Hush,” as the agents came back over.
“Hey, Danny,” Damon asked. “How are you? We called an ambulance, Senator. Just in case. Food poisoning, you think?”
Dad said smoothly, “I’ll take him home. I think he’s okay now. Cancel the ambulance, please.” Dad held onto me back to the car and made me lie down in the back seat. Halfway home, I passed out. Don’t remember being carried into the house or the subsequent pandemonium when they couldn’t rouse me.
Chapter 4
I woke up disoriented in a strange place. I knew it was a hospital after few minutes, it had that smell. Although I was in a private room, it had a BP machine, 02 and EKG scanner at the side of the hospital bed. In a padded armchair with his feet up slept my Dad, still in the suit he’d worn to the museum tour. Outside my closed door I could see an agent in a neat blue suit, and coming through the door was Ms. Penny carrying a plastic bag from which dangled Dad’s gray pinstripe, what he called his power suit.
“Hey, Danny,” she said softly to not wake him. “How are you?”
“What am I doing here?” I grumbled.
“You don’t remember?”
“Naw. How long’s Dad been asleep?” I asked.
“I’m awake,” he said without opening his eyes and Ms. Penny hung his plastic bag up on the hook near the bathroom and then she put a super-sized coffee in his hands. He opened his eyes and smiled. “Oh God, thank you,” after a few sips, he sat up. “Danny, how do you feel?”
“I got a headache,” I complained. He raised an eyebrow at my grammar. “What am I doing here, Dad?”
“You passed out in the car after you puked up Denny’s,” he explained. “Brought you home and we couldn’t wake you up. I called the ambulance, but Jake said it would be quicker if we took you so he drove to Crowley.” He shivered. “Danny, you were limp and boneless. I thought you were dead. Your heartbeat was so slow, I could barely find it, and your breathing was sporadic. We thought you might’ve had food poisoning but Felice was fine and then you wouldn’t wake up.”
“You called Felice?” I interrupted.
“To see if she was sick,” he explained patiently. “She’s concerned, too.”
“Ms. Rickover is on her way over to see how you’re doing, Dantan,” Ms. Penny told me.
“So what’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know. The Doctor wants to do a bunch of tests today. They did blood, urine, and EKG last night when you came in. Today, they want to do a spinal tap, MRI and CAT scan.”
“Why?” I asked suspiciously.
“To rule out epilepsy, stroke or brain tumor,” he returned grimly.
I stared, my mouth hanging open. Swallowed.
“Dantan,” he started. “About what you said yesterday–.”
“Dad, you have to go to the opening and make sure nothing happens,” I said urgently. “Wait a minute, then.” I held up a hand, the one attached to a finger lead and reached for the tortoiseshell cat. Found it sitting in the windowsill, staring out at a silver gray Ford Escape with Maryland license plates. “5DUX – 8894, Dad. Silver gray Ford Escape. 2013.”
“You sure?”
“The plates aren’t his. They’re stolen. I see another set on the table. Virginia MLB 6656P. Don’t know if these are his or not. He’s in the driveway; it’s a circular drive, two houses across the street, blue with black shutters. Mailbox says 7729 Manassas. Does that help?”
Dad bolted out the door, leaving Ms. Penny and me staring at each other.
“Where’s he going? He has to be at the Museum opening in two hours!”
“He knows, Ms. Penny,” I said, and the Doctor came in while Dad was doing some fast-talking with Jake James.
“Hi there, Mister De Rosier,” this dude said. He was young and talked with a New York accent. Introducing himself as Doctor Greg Kujowski, he shook my hand and asked me what was up. My answer was a shrug.
“You tell me. I remember puking my guts out on the Interstate and then waking up in here.”
He checked my heart, lungs, and when he headed south for my belly, Ms. Penny left the room. Poking around, his hands were cold and tickled but didn’t prompt any painful reactions. Next, he examined my balls, which made me both uncomfortable and creeped out.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “But sometimes, young boys your age get a herniated testicle.” He went on to explain, and I interrupted him.
“I know what that is. No, I haven’t hit my head or been around any of those encephalitis prone schools. I had a headache, felt nauseous and puked. End of story.”
He shook his head. “No, Dantan. You were unconscious and unresponsive when you were brought in. We ruled out drugs and alcohol, trauma or accident. And your Dad said you weren’t emotionally upset. You had an EKG when you came in and that was strange, abnormally slow but your scans are normal now.
“I have you scheduled for a CAT scan, EEG and MRI. That’s a lot of tests for one day so you’ll be spending a few days here until we can find out what’s going on.
“You will also have a spinal tap and I will warn you, that one hurts even with the numbing medicine and a spinal headache is no fun. You can’t move during or after. Are you claustrophobic? The MRI and CAT scan are in tight tubes so I can give you a tranquilizer if you think you need one.”
“My Dad okayed this?”
He nodded. “Your father is very worried about you, Dantan. He told me once, he wants the best care we can give you, whatever it takes to get you well.”
“I’m not sick,” I complained. “When can I go home?”
I hated hospitals. That’s where I’d seen my mother last and associated the place with everything bad.
“We’ll see after the tests, okay?”
Ms. Penny poked her head in. “Dantan, the Senator says stay, behave and he’ll take care of your little problem. He’ll be back after the opening. Rest. Do you want anything?”
“My clothes. My Nook, my laptop.” Although it never worked right around me. After a few days, the motherboa
rd fried itself. “On second thought, leave the laptop and bring my notebooks. I’ll work on my homework.”
“On your desk?”
“Book bag on the chair.” I yawned, suddenly sleepy, didn’t see or hear them leaving my room.
*****
I woke up as they were wheeling me down the hallway and grabbed hold of the railings, yelling at the two dudes pushing me and saw that the doc was with them.
“Relax, Dantan,” he said. “We’re just taking you to CAT scan. You had another episode.”
“Episode? I didn’t puke,” I protested trying to sit up. “Let me out of here!”
I saw that the dude in the blue scrubs and he ducked, grabbing my hands while I tried to slide off the gurney. I made it to my feet by using his shoulders and my feet as a fulcrum, swinging over his head. The angle forced his hands to release so I took off running down the corridor, sliding on the slick floors with no socks on just those paper booties. I could feel my ass hanging out the back of that nasty gown. Voices yelled to stop, to catch me but I wasn’t a track star for nothing. I turned the corner and bypassed the nurses’ station heading for the nearest fire doors and stairs with a growing cavalcade behind me. Hit the fire doors and smashed them open, taking the steps down three and four at a time.
Twelve treads down, landing, then another twelve to a floor. I emerged on the lower floor and opened the exit to peer out on the atrium midst a bunch of flowering plants and honest to God trees growing in the lobby. Four elevators faced me, North and South Towers and I still had seven floors more below me.
Heard an alarm in a woman’s voice over the intercom calling for code 7 as the elevator dinged. I pushed the one for South Tower and jumped inside as soon as it opened, regardless of the people in it. Two men, two women, all visitors from their clothes and baskets of food and flowers. They carefully pretended not to look at me as I danced from 1 foot to the other holding my gown, back closed.
“Going down?” I asked and pushed the ‘G’ button. The elevator doors opened on Four and standing in the doorway were two security guards, the Doctor, and two huge orderlies.
“Dantan, just relax,” Kujowski said slowly as he approached. The orderlies motioned for the other people in the car to exit and they bolted out quickly. I tried to dodge past them, and the big orderly grabbed me by the arm and bear hugged me. Kicking, I walked up the wall and pushed off, flipping myself behind him but he dropped backwards, landing on me crushing the air out of my lungs. I wheezed, saw spots, and felt someone stab me in the butt with a needle.
Melted.Went flying upwards onto a flat padded surface, my arms and legs strapped down while fingers pried my eyelids up.
“2 ml of Ativan,” the voice announced. “Vitals?”
“Heart rate is one fifty, BP is 145/80. Respirations twenty-four, temp is 99°,” a nurse announced.
“He’ll sleep for a while. Let’s get him to Imaging, get these tests done before he has another panic attack. Anyone hurt?”
There were all negatives. “Dantan, you’re okay. We’re going to take you for these tests. Someone call the Senator and let him know what’s going on.”
I mumbled about the opening and the men after the President, but my mouth didn’t work right so my words never made it past my lips.
The rest of the day was a blur; voices telling me to stay still, roll over, bend, and was I cold until it all merged into a buzzing that turned black and seamless. I was asleep.
Chapter 5
Woke up back in bed in the same room only now, there were balloons, cards, flowers and candy piled everywhere. Dad was watching to see if I was awake and Felice was there looking worried.
“Hey,” I mumbled.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dad smiled, his eyes lighting up.
Felice looked like she was crying, “hey, Downtown. Wuzup?”
“You tell me.”
“What was with the Great Escape?” She queried. “You breaking out of here?”
“Dad?”
“The cat’s name is Harry Turtledove,” he said and I understood what he didn’t say. He didn’t want to alarm Felice. “Danny, why did you bolt?”
“I dunno. Scared.”
“Of the tube?”
“Naw. I’m hungry.”
“You missed lunch, dinner and breakfast,” he told me. “You slept nearly 16 hours. It’s Tuesday afternoon.”
“Yikes. Can I go home now?”
“After the Doctors check out your scans,” he said carefully.
“What did they find?”
“We’ll talk to the Doctors together.”
My stomach lurched and it wasn’t because I was hungry. I threw the covers back, sat up, and froze as I realized I was nearly naked in front of Felice, so I pulled the sheets back up to my chin. She grinned.
“I’ve seen you naked before in second grade, Downtown, there’s got to be some improvements.”
I blushed. Mumbled as Dad laughed. “Lisi, you are a bad influence on me. Shall I leave you two alone?”
“He’s perfectly safe with me, Mister D,” she grinned. “I promise not to look under his skirts.”
I turned beet red. Was saved when the doc came in looking all-serious and Felice took that cue to exit gracefully. He cleared his throat and looked at Dad.
“Dantan’s CAT scan showed a lesion in the area of the brain called the limbic region, deep inside.”
Dad said, “A lesion? A tumor?”
“Not a tumor, an area about the size of a lemon that is thickened like a bruise. It can affect memory, balance and speech. Part of it extends to the optic nerves and there is pressure on those nerves, which will cause vision degeneration.”
“You mean I might go blind?” I burst out.
“I mean, Dantan, you might die,” Kujowski said bluntly.
“Do we need to bring in a Neurosurgeon?” Dad asked, his hands gripping the armrests until his knuckles turned white.
“I consulted with Doctor Anton Soong, he is the top Neurosurgeon on the Eastern seaboard, but you’re welcome to speak to any others. He’s agreed to see Dantan tomorrow on my recommendation, which is a tremendous favor, Senator. Most neurosurgeons are booked 6 to 8 months in advance.”
“And according to your findings, Danny needs to be seen that quickly?” Dad seemed to have trouble speaking; he swallowed often as if he had a dry mouth.
“In my opinion, yes,” Kujowski said. “There’s definitely something neurological in there that shouldn’t be. I’d like to arrange a biopsy, but that runs a significant risk in itself, although it would definitely determine what we are dealing with.”
“Go ahead,” Dad decided. “Make the appointment.”
“I’d like to keep, Danny, is it? Here for another few days, he’s had a few episodes of fading in and out of which he isn’t even aware. We’ll hook him up to some EEG leads, so we can monitor his brain waves while he’s awake and asleep.
“I’ve put him on anti-anxiety meds and a mild tranquilizer to prevent a re-recurrence of Monday’s unfortunate mishap.”
Dad gave me one of those looks. “I thought I told you to behave, Dantan?”
“What did I do?” I spread my hands in dumb innocence, which usually worked to get me out of trouble. Trouble was, I really didn’t remember doing anything bad. “Lunch?” I asked, looking hopeful.
“I can order that. Any restrictions, Doctor?”
“As long as you don’t feel nauseous.”
“I’m starving. Can I have a meatball sub with mozzarella and Parmesan? Garlic bread and a salad? Oh, and honey barbecue wings. With ranch dressing. On the side. Pepsi.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Dad told me. He looked at me sternly. “Don’t move out of this bed.”
“What if I have to pee?”
“Wait.”
“Dad!”
“You heard me.”
“Yes, sir.” He got up and left the room with the Doctor. I looked around, snagged a basket of Ghirardelli chocolates and ate two bars, dark c
hocolate with almonds and sea salt. My favorite. The card was from Ms. Penny and read ‘Get Well Soon.’
The big basket of fruit was from Dad’s peers at the Senate. The Secret Service dudes had sent me a horde of Dove bars, word search, crossword, and Sudoku books along with chewing gum and beef jerky. Felice had left me a bag of rice crispy treats and chocolate chip macadamia cookies that she’d baked herself, just the way I liked them – soft and gooey.
I put two of them in my mouth and savored the deliciousness of white chocolate, macadamia nuts, and cookie dough. Took another bite out of the third one, and felt the twinges of the headache coming on…
*****
Harry Turtledove was winding his body around the legs of men dressed in crime scene jumpsuits with blue windbreakers labeled FBI, HS and US marshals. It was a cluster fuck inside the house and the cat decided to leap onto the table where it was safe. He sat, watching as the agents bagged and searched. The noise they made was negligible, the cat and I heard every word. It was me that translated.
They had apprehended the owner of the house, four blocks from the museum, with Presidential passes that allowed him inside the building, found the armor-lite sniper rifle in pieces with a full clip of armor piercing bullets. He was driving a gray vehicle with the stated MD plates and how did the Senator come by such exact information when even the Secret Service hadn’t a clue. He had even given the State Cops the perp’s home address and warned them not to hurt the cat.
“Speaking of which,” the Director of HS top agent said. “We’re supposed to bring the cat to the Senator.”
“Not animal control?”
“No. Senator De Rosier was explicit. The cat goes to him.”
“You hear his son’s in the hospital? Some kind of brain tumor. Poor kid. He’s just fourteen. This will kill Mike, after losing Evangeline in that drunk driving accident.”
“You saying the kid might die?”
It’s weird to hear people talking about your death when they don’t know you’re listening. I knew that agent, his name was Mark Andrews and sometimes he was on Felice’s detail.
“Does Canary-bird know?” The other HS dude asked, referring to Felice by her Secret Service nickname.
“She’s been to the hospital, but I doubt they’ve told her. How long till the Grand Opening?”
“Twenty minutes. I wanted it canceled, but both the President and Senator said no. Said he owed it to Downtown.”