“What’s the deal, Stackman? Did JD steal your rubber ducky?”
“Mind your business, Morgan, or you’ll be next,” Nate sneered.
“I like a fight as much as the next guy, but seriously, three to one? And the one is Lumpy Larry, for crying out loud.” Jeff laughed.
“Butt out. Unless you want to end up six feet under like old Max.” Nate stepped toward Jeff. He dropped the bag of trash and backed up.
“No problem. Ah, toss this in the dumpster when you’re done. Okay? I just started this job and I don’t want to get fired my first day.” Max watched in horror as his one and only hope turned and ran back into the store.
Nate and the two other guys threw their heads back and laughed. “Stupid jock,” muttered one.
Max propped himself on his knees. With his eyes, he scoured up and down the alley, hoping someone else would come out. He thought about screaming for help, but figured Nate would shut him down before anyone heard him.
Nate circled Max a couple of times, lacing his fingers, popping his knuckles. Max heard a siren in the distance and with everything he had, prayed they were coming his way.
“Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” Nate chuckled. “Oh yeah, I was about to kick your fat—”
The door flew open and out stepped Jeff, a baseball bat parked on his shoulder. His prized baseball bat. “You know, I’ve been thinking. I don’t like the odds for ol’ JD. I do believe my trusty Big Berta here evens them out just a little.” He stepped toward Nate. “I suggest you and your friends leave. Now.”
Nate laughed. “You can’t get all three of us, and Lumpy here isn’t much help. Put the bat down and go back inside like a good little jock, and we’ll pretend you never came out here with your little girl hissy fit. Face it, dude, you’re still out manned.”
“I kind of thought you’d say that.” He waved his hand and two more guys stepped out the door. An older man, Max guessed to be in his forties, and a younger guy no more than sixteen. Each carried a bat.
“Why do you care?” Nate demanded.
“JD’s my friend,” Jeff said simply.
Nate stomped around to the passenger side of the car and reached inside. “Well,” he said pulling out a gun, “I guess I just messed up your odds again, bat boy.” He waved it in the air.
“Hey, I didn’t sign on for this,” said one of Nate’s goons.
“Me neither,” murmured the other.
“Oops. I forgot to tell you. I called the police when I went back inside for Berta.” Jeff lovingly caressed the bat. “Those sirens you hear are for you, Nate Stackman. I hoped I spelled your name right for the operator.”
“I’m out of here,” one of the goons shouted as they both ran off.
Nate tossed his gun recklessly in the car. “You’re a dead man, Lumpy.” He pointed at Max, then turned his gaze to Jeff. “As are you.” He glared at Jeff, who just smiled and waved. Nate shoved his car in reverse and drove it backwards out of the alley before speeding off.
Jeff dropped his bat and ran over to Max. “Are you alright?” Jeff wrapped his arm around Max’s waist and helped him up.
“I really thought you walked away when you went back inside.”
Jeff helped him over to a pile of wooden pallets, lowering him slowly onto them. “Sorry to scare you like that, but did you see the size of his friends?” he said, picking his bat up from the ground and brushing it off. “I knew the only chance we had at winning was with Big Berta here, and these two, of course.”
“Are you alright?” Jeff’s boss asked.
“Yes, thanks to you all.” Max winced as he touched his bloody upper lip.
“Simon,” Jeff said to his co-worker, “call the police, and have them send an ambulance. JD, I think you should go to the hospital to make sure nothing is broken.”
Max scooted to the edge of the pallets. His tailbone ached from one of Nate’s well-placed kicks. “I thought you said you called the cops already.”
“I lied.” Jeff shrugged. “I had to say something when he took out the gun.”
“Clever,” Max said.
Jeff’s boss came out and handed Max a wet towel. “You might want to wipe the animal droppings off your clothes.” Max nodded and took the towel, only it hurt too much to do any real cleaning.
“Kid, how did you get this crap all over you? Did that guy throw you in the bin?” Jeff’s boss asked, taking the towel back and gently wiping off the back of Max’s shirt.
“No. I discovered the dumpster once when Nate saw me walking home from school after I missed the bus. Since then, whenever he comes after me, I hide inside, hoping he won’t think to look for me there. I guess I’ll need to find a new spot now.”
“If he ever comes after you again, you have my permission to enter my shop through that door.” He pointed to the door they’d all come out earlier. “No one should have to hide in a dumpster full of animal waste.”
“Thanks.”
“JD, I work out almost every day after school. If you miss the bus again, stop by the weight room. I’ll give you a ride home,” Jeff said.
“What about your job?”
“This is my Uncle Larry. I only came by to help because he was shorthanded today.”
Max hoped JD paid attention to all of this help being offered. A police car came tearing down the alleyway, followed by an ambulance. While the medic, a buff “don’t mess with me” type woman, tended to Max, Jeff explained to the cops what had happened, leaving out the part about the bats. Max glanced around, but the bats were nowhere to be seen. The medic strapped Max to the gurney, despite his protests, and along with another medic loaded him in the back of the ambulance.
“I’ll meet you there,” Jeff promised. “And I’ll call your mother.”
“She works at the Rose Garden in town,” he said as the medic closed the doors.
At the hospital, a nurse directed the medics to the second room on the right in the Emergency Room. Max thought the word room a bit of a stretch. Cubical fit much better. Never in his life had Max been in an ER before. He didn’t like all the people coming in and out of his room. The prodding and poking unnerved him, as did the ugly green band someone slapped on his wrist. A way-too-eager x-ray tech stripped his shirt off to take some x-rays with an intimidating portable machine. The low whispers about him by the nurses right outside his door had him on edge also.
“What did you find? Anything I should be nervous about?” Max asked a male nurse with the name “Stella’ tattooed on his forearm. He flipped through the chart before placing it in a holder on the door.
“I’m sorry. You’ll have to ask the doctor. He’ll be right in,” tattooed Stella promised. “You’re lucky. Dr. Colter is working tonight. He’s the best.”
No sooner did he leave than a tall, lanky doctor stepped into the cubical. “Hello, Max. My name is Dr. Colter.” He took a small blue pen light out of the breast pocket of his scrubs and shined it in Max’s eyes.
“When these punks knocked you around, did you hit your head at all?”
“No. They punched my head, here,” he pointed to his lip, “and here,” pointing to his eye.
“The x-rays show no breaks around the jaw or the eye socket, though I do believe you’ll have a rather nice shiner in a couple hours. The cuts are fairly minor. They’ll heal best if we don’t mess with them, though I may run some medical adhesive on this one.” He examined Max’s eyebrow.
“The good news is that your ribs are not broken, the bad news is they’re going to hurt for a couple days. I’m afraid skydiving is a no-no until they heal,” he warned, stone-faced.
“Dang it. I’ll lose my deposit,” Max joked back. He liked this guy. He was warm, personable, and had a peaceful way about him.
“JD, the police want to talk to you about what happened. Do you feel up to it?” He slid the light back into his pocket and tucked his hands into the pockets of his scrub pants.
“Yes.” Max stood to put his shirt back on.
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The doctor stopped him. “Let me get you something a little cleaner to wear.” He stepped into the hallway and came back in with a fresh pair of folded scrubs.
“Merry Christmas.” He set them on the bed, along with a plastic bag Max assumed was for his soiled clothes. “I know high school can be a pretty tough place sometimes, JD, but I promise, it does get better. Hang in there.”
“I will,” Max vowed. He changed into the blue scrubs, wondering where Mel was. He had no idea how she’d even get to the hospital without a car. A rap on the door answered his questions. Jeff and Mel entered the cubical, making the claustrophobic space feel even tighter.
“Sweetie!” Mel rushed him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He knew she’d been crying by the mascara staining down her cheeks. “Baby, Jeff told me what happened. I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt you.” She continued blubbering on his shoulder. Jeff laughed quietly when Max rolled his eyes.
“Have the police been in here yet?” Jeff asked.
“No. I’ve been waiting but they haven’t shown up.”
“When they do, don’t mention the bats,” he whispered.
“What did you say?” Mel asked, drying her face.
“I said don’t forget to mention the dog crap. It’s all over his clothes,” Jeff explained to Mel.
“Yes. I can’t believe you hid in there. Why, JD? Why?” Mel took a tissue from the side table and wiped her smeared mascara off.
“Better a little dog poo than dead, mom.” Wrong answer. She burst into tears all over again.
As he worked to calm her down, the ER lit up with activity for the second time since Max arrived. A gurney, with two nurses and a doctor surrounding it, came flying by his room throwing Mel into another round of tears.
Two policemen came and questioned Max about what happened. He gave a blow by blow description to the cops, inciting another yet round of tears from Mel.
“We have his address. We’ll bring him in. You’ll both need to come by the station and sign a complaint.” After they left, a nurse came in and ran a bead of what appeared to be super glue along the cut near his eyebrow. She instructed Mel to watch for signs of dizziness, double vision, nausea, and the list went on. Mel was beside herself when the nurse finally finished. Another gurney with yet another team of doctors and nurses surrounding it flew by Max’s room. Mel signed the release forms, wanting to get out of the ER as quickly as possible.
“Is it always this busy?” she asked the nurse.
“During the fall and winter months, no. But spring and summer are usually crazy. We get a lot of chest pain this time of year. People, who have spent the winter with their butts glued to a chair watching football, decide to get out and play some. Instant heart attack,” she said. “Okay, you’re all set. Give this paperwork to the checkout secretary and you can leave. Take it easy, JD.”
“I’ll give you guys a ride home,” Jeff volunteered.
“Thank you so much, sweetie,” Mel said, squeezing his arm. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for JD and me today.”
“Not a problem, Mrs. Miller.”
Mel took Max’s arm to lead him outside, only they never made it. The cheerleaders and his teammates Max had seen earlier with Em rushed the entrance. Jeff grabbed Elise as she ran by, a terrified expression on her face.
“Elise, what’s going on?”
“It’s awful. We were practicing the pyramid stunt for the championship game, but the ending wasn’t grand enough for Em and she tried to stand up on top and fell off. Oh, Jeff, she’s dead.”
Chapter 22
The bottom of Max’s world dropped away. He no longer cared about anything or anyone but Emma. Not JD, not Izzy, not himself. He shoved the bag of soiled clothes into Mel’s hands and ran back into the ER. Mel called his name. Jeff told him to stop. It didn’t register. Their cries were merely white noise. No one tried to stop him as he rushed passed the cubical he’d just barely left. Nor as he approached the large room full of medical personnel all hovering around a gurney holding a motionless cheerleader with silky blond hair. He couldn’t hear a thing they said. Or in some cases shouted. He was too busy begging.
No, please not Emma. Please. Take the rest of my time and give it to her. Please. Please don’t take her. I’ll do anything you want me to do, go anywhere you say. I’ll stay here forever as JD, or I’ll go far away from here and never speak to her again. But please, don’t take her. She’s a good person. She has so many dreams, so many things she wants to accomplish. She wants to become a journalist and write life-changing stories and make a difference in the world. She wants to marry, and have children. Please. Not Em.
He repeated his plea over and over again. IV’s ran into both of her arms, syringes full of Max had no idea what, was injected to the IV tubing. An oxygen mask lay strapped to her face. Slowly, the voices came into focus.
“Any reaction to pain stimuli?”
“Pupils equal and reactive.”
“What’s her blood pressure?”
“Seventy over thirty-two.”
“Give her forty of Dopamine.”
“I want a head CT stat and a spinal MRI.”
She’s not dead. Why would they give meds and take x-rays of a dead person? He stepped closer, watching her chest rise and fall. “She’s breathing.” Max wiped his face, sinking against the doorframe.
“She’s stable. Let’s get moving on the CT,” Dr. Colter ordered. He walked toward Max, pulling off his rubber gloves and tossing them in a trash bin.
“JD,” he said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’re not allowed in here. Is she a friend of yours?” He nodded. “Come. The family will update everyone as they feel is best.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Max looked in Dr. Colter’s gentle blue eyes for the answer, knowing that he couldn’t tell him anything.
“I’m sorry, JD. I’m not allowed to discuss her case with you.” Max nodded. “Have you been discharged yet?”
“Yes. I just came back for Em.”
“Is that her name?”
“Emma McKay. She’s a cheerleader. The best one at Port Fare. She’s also the most kind, generous, loving…” Max broke down, sobs rocking his body. Dr. Colter wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
“Don’t give up hope.”
Max nodded, drying his face.
“Where’s Emma? Where’s my baby?” Bev McKay ran into the room, frantic, with Marty on her heals.
“Those are her parents,” Max pointed.
“Thank you. Remember what I said,” Dr. Colter offered, heading straight to the McKay’s.
Max shuffled zombie-like back to the lobby. Several of the cheerleaders and Jeff ambushed him, throwing question after question at him.
“I don’t know anything, except that she’s very much alive. They’re doing tests on her now.”
Jeff stepped back, exhaling loudly. “Elise!” he snapped.
“I’m sorry. That’s what one of the other girls said,” she defended. Jeff stormed to the opposite end of the waiting room and dropped into a chair. The cheerleaders circled around, crying on each other’s shoulders.
“Come along, sweetie. Let’s get you home.” Mel took Max’s arm.
“No, I’m staying here. I can’t leave Em. Not now.”
“JD, you need to rest. You’ve been through a lot yourself.” She brushed at his hair.
“I’m fine, mom. Go back to work. I’ll meet you at home later,” Max insisted. Leave Em? He’d rather lose his right arm than leave.
“JD—”
“Please,” he pleaded, desperate for her to understand.
She nodded. “I guess if you have to be anywhere, this is the safest place for you. I’ll catch a cab back to work.” She gave him a quick peck on the head. “Take it easy.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The waiting room quickly filled with students and teachers alike once word got out. It didn’t surprise Max. Everyone loved Em. The hospital moved
the large gathering to a private waiting area to free up the ER. In the three hours since Em arrived, no one had come out to update them. Max paced the room for the hundredth time. The beating he took in the alley finally caught up with him. His head throbbed as did his ribs when he inhaled too deeply. Unable to stand the waiting any longer, Max bolted from the room and went upstairs to visit Izzy. Not thinking, he stormed into her room.
“Whoa, JD, what’s . . . Your face! Who hit you? And why are you in hospital scrubs?”
Max cringed. He’d completely forgotten. He twisted around to the stainless steel paper towel holder on the wall to check out his face in the reflection. He looked like Quasimodo with his swollen eye and bruised mouth.
“Nate,” he said, squinting to get a closer look at the cut glued together on his brow.
“He discovered your hiding place, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” Max gave her a brief recap of the beating.
“JD, why did we ever agree to cancel the pact? This is never going to end.” Her voice haggard as she spoke.
“Izzy, you’re wrong. Jeff Morgan from the baseball team stopped them. He and two other guys, with bats.” He almost mentioned the gun, deciding it might not be a good time. “It’s working, Izzy. Trusting others and reaching out is working.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not completely sold yet.” She tucked her sheet under her arms. “Is Emma coming by today?”
“No,” he said gravely. “She got hurt.”
Izzy sat up straight. “How?”
“The cheerleaders wanted to do some kind of grand stunt for the big game. After the win, six guys from the team were supposed to form the bottom row of a pyramid. Then four cheerleaders were to form the next row, and two on the next. Emma was supposed to be on the very top. Standing, mind you.” Max overheard one of his teammates talking to Jeff about it while he paced the ER earlier. He’d gotten as angry as Max over the stupid stunt.