Chapter 33
Sally ran outside but saw nothing.
Hundreds of feet above, Harold was pumping his wings feverishly, while Righty held onto his unconscious wife, tears streaming down his face.
Then, he wiped his face viciously with his forearm, as he realized tears weren’t going to save Janie, only quick thinking.
He looked over his shoulders and saw quite a few konulans a ways behind trying feverishly to keep up with the mighty Harold, and he had a couple dozen perched right in front of him on Harold’s back, looking down sorrowfully at the ill Janie.
“Once we get near the hospital, I want you to spread out and find a red brick house with a white picket fence south of the hospital.”
“Yes, sir!” they cried out in unison.
The city was already coming into view, and Harold knew where the hospital was from his many hours spent flying over the city while Righty conducted business. He began heading for the general area.
As they closed in on the area, the konulans took off into the darkness.
“Circle around while they look,” Righty instructed Harold.
Just three minutes later, the konulans returned, shouting triumphantly, “We found it! We found it!”
Righty felt relieved by the darkness because even though the health of his wife and child-to-be far eclipsed his desire to keep Harold a secret the last thing he wanted was fear or curiosity amongst gawkers to impede his quick progress to the home of the doctor.
“Set me down right in front of his house, Harold!”
The konulans flew downwards to show Harold the way, who was close behind them.
It was a residential neighborhood, no doubt full of respectable, law-abiding professionals, but there was not a soul in sight on the street where Harold set Righty down.
Righty picked Janie up and sprinted to the doorstep, while his winged companions dissipated like ghosts into the night, though they still watched fervently from above.
Righty pounded on the door passionately, yelling, “HELP!! HELP!!”
Similar to his experience at Mrs. Redelmin’s home, he was met with suspicious eyes, but this time when the door was cautiously opened he was met not with the object of his search but with a servant.
Righty wasted no time for the servant to object.
“It’s my wife! I can pay whatever the doctor asks, but I need help quick!!”
The servant’s eyes turned to saucers as she looked at the large bloodstain on Janie’s midsection and then said in a gasp, “One moment, sir.”
Righty almost barged into the house but restrained himself, realizing that he needed to at least give the doctor the opportunity to do his job of his own volition pursuant to a civil request before Righty considered more violent means of persuasion.
Minutes later a groggy-eyed, silver-haired man with thick eye glasses looked at him crankily.
“I’m not on call tonight!” the doctor said grumpily.
Righty realized his manner of simple dress and the even simpler clothing of Janie perhaps did not lend themselves well to the claim of his ability to pay upfront. Righty set Janie down quickly yet carefully and then removed a bag from inside his jacket pocket.
“That’s $100,000 falons!” Righty said, extending the money towards the doctor, “and I can double that or quintuple that at your command!”
The doctor looked a bit frightened, even in the faint light afforded by the moon and the candle in the doctor’s right hand. He could tell he was dealing with a man who rightly wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“We’ll talk money later. Bring her in!” he said gruffly.
“Molly, get some hot water and bring my medical bag!” Dr. Ridemern shouted out.
“Yes, Dr. Ridemern!” his servant replied.
“This way,” the doctor told Righty authoritatively and led him to a small room.
“She’s pregnant, Dr. Ridemern, and wasn’t supposed to deliver for a couple weeks.”
“Just set her down here,” the doctor said, seemingly uninterested in Righty’s observations, but as soon as Janie was down on the bed, he said, “Two weeks, you say?” and then began peppering Righty with questions while he began disrobing Janie in front of Righty with the same calm professionalism a mechanic might disassemble the nuts and bolts of a machine.
“Heaven help us,” the doctor said in a near whisper, as he inspected Janie’s bleeding.
“Fresh towels!” he barked, and Molly was off running to comply.
“How long has she been out?”
“About a half-hour now.”
“It’s good you got here when you did. I think this is within my capabilities, but I need to work alone,” he said and then turned towards Righty. “It’s not gonna be pretty.”
Molly handed the doctor the fresh towels, and as she led him to the living room to wait for news from the doctor, Righty saw the doctor extract a rather fearsome looking scalpel from his medical bag.
As Righty sat down on the sofa outside what was now the surgical room—perhaps in happier moments it was a guest room—he gave free vent to his sobs, now that there was no pressing action needed on his part to justify their suppression.
But out of the darkness of his impotent despair arose an idea. A solemn oath. He was not a man given to prayer, but whether from some newfound faith or from desperation to do something other than blubber his eyes out, he made the decision right then and there to make a solemn pact.
There were many gods in the Seleganian panoply, but it was generally agreed, and strongly suggested in the Seleganian myths, that Kasani was the most powerful. Thus, Righty decided to bypass his inferiors and go straight to the top.
Kasani, I promise you that if you spare Janie’s life, and that of our baby, I will become the benefactor of Selegania’s poor.
Righty felt a strange sense of calm descend upon his soul. Not total peace. But he felt his theretofore uncontrollable angst dampen considerably, and what was left behind was like the simmering coals of an extinguished fire, where just seconds ago a forest fire had raged inside his mind.
He lay back on the couch, and although he never would have expected it, Sleep welcomed him with outstretched arms and pulled him down into her irresistible embrace.