Chaos at Crescent City Medical Center (10 page)

The ordinary man was speaking, his voice low.

"B
oard's freaked, particularly Bonnet.  Eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw me there.  You ready to do him?"

The ponytailed man
groaned, and
once again inwardly cursed this stupid man and his boss who had sent him on this mission.
"Patience, patience.  All things in
good
time."

Raoul could hardly hear
him;
his voice was barely a whisper.
  He pressed his ear closer against the door.

The ordinary man's voice rose.  "Dammit, I want it done.  Don't mess with me, man.  You got your money
, a slick million
."  He slammed his fist against the wall.

Raoul jumped when he heard a thump in the room.  Sounded like a chair being moved.  He peered around the door and saw an overturned chair.  The evil one held the younger man against the wall, his knee in his crotch, and the leather strap pressed against his neck.  The ordinary man's eyes were wide with fright.

"Shut up, you fool.  D
on't rush me.  No one rushes me.  Never speak to me again
"
the
evil one rasped as he threw the ordinary man against the bed.

Raoul moved away from the door towards the utility room.  The evil one left the room and glanced at him on the way out. 

Raoul was terrified and turned away from the ponytailed evil man.  Hope he doesn't recognize me from the restaurant, he thought to himself.  Glad I have on this isolation gown and mask. But, what should I do.  Should I warn Dr. Bonnet?  Raoul continued to struggle with his consci
ence
and
what was
the right thing to do
as he went into the next patient's room.

Alex found a note from Bridgett when she ret
urned to her office at three.
She'd left for the day, saying she didn't feel well. 

On Alex's desk was an early edition of
The Times Picayune
.  The headlines were
,
in the biggest boldest
type font
Alex had ever seen
,
read: 
"Grace Raccine Voodooed at Crescent City Medical
Center:  First Lady of Louisiana unresponsive."

Alex read the account of the i
ncident, amazed at the accuracy of the press regarding the incident.  The press knew everything
,
and that unnerved her.
  As she was contemplating how this could have happened, her phone rang. 
Dreading the worse, s
he
answered it a
nd was surprised by Mitch's voice. 

"
Hey,
I just saw the papers, so I'm surprised I got you.  Bet you've had a rough day."  His voice was warm and sensitive.

"Yeah,
it’s
been pretty awful.  Things are unbelievable."

"I'm sure.  Feel up for some company this evening?  I'll bring over dinner and we'll relax a little, unwind some."  Mitch's voice sounded so concerned and kind, that Alex almost cried.

She paused to contemplate her options.  She was seeing
Granddad
at
four-thirty
and
she
was
already
physically and mentally exhausted.  She was tempted to say no, but
she hesitated to say
that
, once again unsure of their relationship.  Besides, it would be good to see
someone
objective
from outside the hospital
.
 

"Sure
Mitch
,
my place
at seven. W
e need to make it an early night, though.  Tomorrow could be as b
ad as today, and today was pure hell
.  Today
took the cake.  It
couldn't have been much worse." 

"Great. See you at seven."
  Mitch sounded pleased.

Mitch's phone call raised Alex's spirits significantly.  She found herself looking forward to the evening.

***

At 5:00 p.m., while walking down Bourbon Street to his apartment,
Frederico
bought the evening edition of
The
Times
Picayune
.
  He was
ecstatic
as he read the CCMC article.  When he reached his home, he made
himself a drink and called Salvadal
on the phone. 

"
You saw
the paper?"

"Yeah.  You must have a guardian angel, Petrelli."  Salvada
l smiled to himself and thought
how stupid
and what an asshole
the Mafia boss was.

Frederico
hung up and went back to the bar downstairs to celebrate.

Alex was
physically
beat
and emotionally spent
when she left CCMC
at
four
in the after
n
o
on.  She
decided to call
Martin's
Taxi
to pick her up
and
take her
the short
distance to
the Palm Court
to meet her grandfather.  As the big white Buick pulled to the hospital
circle
, Alex was pleased to see that Martin
himself
was picking her up.

"
Hi
, darling
.  Bad day, I bet
.  Saw the papers.  Thought I'd hear from you so I kept myself open.
That’s some bad business at the medical center, real bad.
My wife's cooking gumbo tonight, but it'll keep.  Who's responsible for this stuff
at the hospital
?
" 

Alex still
could
not believe how fast
native New Orleanians could speak, particularly those from the Ninth Ward with a dialect all its own
.  The entire verbal exchange with Martin
took less than three seconds
and covered three topics
.  Fortunately,
Alex was just now getting used to the Cajun dialect and rapid speech
and understood him
...

She
smiled at Martin.  "You tell me.  Some Voodoo Queen I guess.  I need to go to Palm Court to meet my grandfather.
"
 

“We’ll be there in 10.  You OK?”

Alex pondered
her next question carefully before asking
it,
probably be
cause she was scared to, or didn’t want to, hear Martin’s
answer.

“
You're from this city
, Martin
.  Do you believe in voodoo?"

Martin hesitated several moments before answering
.

"Don't knows if I do, don't knows if I don't.  I never paid voodoo no mind.  Choose not to know about it.  But there're s
ome who believe in it mightily and they live by it and practice it
every day
,
people
you'd never think believe in it, rich people.
  Word has it there's lots of voodoo
groups that meet every week
, you know, like church
.
"

"You've got to be kidding." 
Alex was appalled. 
By this time they were pulling out of the parking lot. 

"Traffic's heavy.
Yeah, yeah, darling, you wouldn't be
lieve them who
believe
in the h
oodoo.  I hear that some of the best families in New Orleans, all up and down the Avenue do it
, I mean, practice it
.  Don't know name
s though," Martin added quickly, seemingly afraid to be
implicated.

"I'm just surprised it's so prevalent
here.  I know nothing about it but I can’t imagine people believing in some
archaic
African religion in th
e twenty first
century.  It blows my mind.  Besides, I thought it was just for tourists
, you know, entertainment for tourists
.
"

"You ain't from here.
  You couldn’t know.
  It's New Orleans stuff.  How's the Guv's wife?"

"She's hol
ding her own.  She'll be okay
, hopefully
"
Alex said with forced brightness. 

"
Horrible thing. 
Ms. Raccine's a great lady, good to everybody.  Can't
imagine somebody
‘fixin’
her," Martin said, shaking his head.

"Fixing?" Alex said.

"You know, cursing her, hoodooing her
, hexing her
.  She never hurt nobody, but she's helped a million
people
.
Maybe somebody is trying to get back at the Governor—probably because he’s not crooked enough for some folks
."

Not everybody, Alex thought as they
pulled up in front of the Palm Court
.  "Thanks for getting me.  Go home to your gumbo."

"Want me to get you tomorrow, darling?  Wouldn't mind at all.  I'll pick up my first load at the airport and zip over your house by
seven
.  You should save your energy.  No telling what's coming."
  He gave her an ominous look as he opened her door.

Alex laughed and then replied, “
Thanks, Martin.
Nothing could be worse than today.
I'll call you."

"Get some rest, Alex.  Nothing you can do when these things happen.  What happens, happens. 
You can't do nothing about it
!
" 

Alex
felt anxious as she
left the cab
and her stomach knotted up.
She'd never heard Martin say anything negative.  He was the most positive, upbeat man she'd ever talked to. 
Maybe it's not over but certainly nothing this bad can happen again.

*
**

Alex paused to admire the beautifully decorated hotel lobby
of the Palm Court Hotel
as she searched for
her grandfather
.  The marble floors were gleaming and the oriental rugs accented them perfectly.  She spotted her grandfather sitting in
the far corner of the lobby bar and checked him out
briefly.  He looked good.  He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue business suit and his silver hair gleamed.  He had what
s
he supposed was a tumbler
of Jack
Daniels in his hand.

She approached him from behind, hugged him and place
d
a wet kiss on his cheek.  The smell of bourbon and aftershave permeated her senses.
It was comforting.
Old Spice. 
Granddad
h
ad been wearing
Old Spice
since she could remember. 
The memory took her back to safer times and made her feel warm and safe.

As Adam Lee stood to return the hug, she said, "You look great
, maybe a little too skinny.
"  Alex couldn't resist and she hugged him again.  He was such a rock of stability to her.  She needed that today.

Adam held her tightly and said, "You're looking a little rough around the edges, girl.  What the hell's going on at that damn hospital?"

"Wish I knew," Alex said
, as
she ended
the hug. 

"Want a drink?  Looks like you could use one."

"White wine,
pino
t
grigio,
please."

Adam motioned for the waitress and ordered the wine as Alex settled herself on the sofa next to him.

"Well, what's the story at CCMC?  Paper said Grace was still unresponsive.
"

"She is
unresponsive
. 
I
c
hecked before I left.  It's a mess over there."  Alex's eyes filled with tears as she continued, "It's just awful, Adam.  Who could do this to Mrs. Raccine?"

"Don't know
.  What's with this voodoo shit?
  Paper said she'd been voodooed?
  Isn’t that some sort of crazy
,
ancient
, African
crap?
"

"Yeah, that's rig
ht.
There’s a curse against CCMC.  Can you believe it?
Even members
of
the board of trustees believe in voodoo, credible, educated people.  The
police think
the same thing
."

Adam
stared as her wide-eyes,
mulled this over and nursed his drink for a few minutes.

"Voodoo or not, somebody's behind it.
  Someone
is after the hospital and/or Grace Raccine.
  The question is why.  Why hurt Grace Raccine?"

Alex shrugged her shoulders.  "Don't know.
Maybe they are trying to get to the Governor, but
it’s
bad press for
the hospital no matter what the reason is. 
The p
lace is
a mess. 
Staff isn’t
reporting
to work and
patients
are transferring to other hospitals.  There’s some sort of crazy archaic belief that if you acknowledge the curse then you become vulnerable to the curse and many people believe this and are trying to ignore
or escape
the Voodoo
curse
by staying at
home.
"

"
Humph,
this sounds like bull shit to me
!
  Sounds
like some folks want some days off with pay.
  Shit, don’t let the
Jihadists know
or they’ll switch from
terrorism to Voodoo
!
”

Alex cracked a smile at her grandfather’s prediction and said,
“In addition to everything else, our census dropped 38% today due to transfers and patients leaving against medical advice. 
Unfortunately, this
will affect
our
bottom line
if it continues
, not to mention our reputation.”