Elementary Virtue: The Prophecy (31 page)

"Are you all right?" A gray-haired elderly man leaned down to him looking worried at him. Probably the driver of the truck, his father had almost rammed before getting off the street racing down the embankment. Gabe wasn’t able to speak, all he managed was a groan passing his lips. He didn’t even have to pretend because he really felt crappy and his head hurt like hell. Apparently, he had hit his head during the impact. "Are you hurt?" There was the man's worried voice again. Gabe tried to speak once more, "I'm not sure, but I guess not." A short time later, he heard the siren of the police, followed by the ambulance and the fire brigade. Gabe had the impression his skull would burst with all the noise. It took quite a while until they managed to free Carmine from the badly wrenched Ferrari. It seemed to take hours. They worked with welding torches, as the doors of the Ferraris were demolished badly. First, they took care of his father getting him out of the car. He was still hanging motionless in the belt. The paramedics took him away on a stretcher. After they got Gabe out of the car, he was surprised that he was not really hurt, except for his hurting head, everything seemed to be fine. He looked as if he was completely unharmed. The medics gave him a blanket covering his shoulders. Meanwhile the weather had miraculously recovered.

The sky was blue and cloudless again, as if the icy rain had never fallen from the sky. Gabe's whole body trembled and his teeth chattered noisily. Chills run up and down his spine. The cold and the shock of his pain shook him to his very core. He had almost been killed, it had been a hairbreadth escape, and he could have ended up in Nirvana. The thought left him shiver again. A serious-looking paramedic aimed a small flashlight in his eyes and checked his pulse. He had been hurt, and she checked his cheek and disinfected the injured area. Then she put gauze over the wound.

"You have been very lucky," she said looking at him earnestly. He stared at her, thinking to himself, God, since when do they hire Miss World contestants as paramedics. She looked like one of those Bollywood beauties. Dark curls framed her oval face with dark almond-shaped eyes. Her features were elfin. If Gabe hadn’t been in a state of shock, he would have hit on her for sure. But, all he could do was silently stare at her. She realized that he apparently had some trouble speaking in his state of shock, and continued in a business like reassuring tone of voice. She put a comforting hand on his arm saying, "You must be worried about your fellow passenger. He's unconscious, but the paramedics take care of him." Gabe's voice sounded croaky, "He is my father, will he make it?"

He was such a damn good actor and would surly get an Oscar any time for this sorrowful performance. She looked at him with her compassionate dark eyes. "We’ll do what’s in our power. Try not to worry too much. The cut on your cheek needs some stitches," she smiled encouragingly, "people say that a scar on the face of a man is sexy, but a laceration won’t heal and become a sexy scar, if it is not treated properly." Gabe frowned at first, then realized that she was trying to cheer him up, which was beside life-saving measures probably in her job description too. To keep the injured mentally stable was part of her job. He nodded absentminded, leaning back in his seat in the ambulance. He closed his eyes. She patted his arm with a soothing gesture, "We will bring you to the hospital, and your wound will be taken care off. The doctor will examine you again thoroughly. We want to make sure that everything is ok, don’t we," she sat next to him and gave the driver a sign that he could depart.

Gabe kept his eyes closed throughout the journey. The circumstances of the accident were going through his head repeatedly. How could he have been so damn careless? Making Carmine drink all of that stuff, without knowing what would happen if he did? Angel had used only half of the bottle to cause a real disaster at the summer festival. It really could have gone badly wrong. Without his ability to control the weather, the car would certainly have exploded despite the gasoline loss. The truck driver wouldn’t have been able to help them in this case. The jammed, wrecked car door was impossible to open. He wouldn’t be sitting here now. He was wondering what the truck driver thought about the unlikely change of weather. But, then again it didn’t matter, as no one would ever believe him, not even he would truly believe what he had seen. He wondered what had happened to Carmine? But, he’d find out soon enough.

His head still hurt and throbbed. He felt his pulse painfully in his temple. It was as if someone was hitting him constantly with a hammer. Aching he turned to the beautiful paramedic, he felt his head was going to explode at any moment. "Please, can you give me a painkiller or something? I have a terrible headache!" The medic nodded pulling out a syringe from a drawer. She filled the syringe and injected the needle into his upper arm. Almost instantly, his muscles relaxed. He laid his hot head against the cool glass. It felt much better without the throbbing pain in his head and his cheek. On second thought, things hadn’t turned out that bad, even if he had planned it differently.

Maybe it didn’t go the way he planned it, but finally, the result was quite satisfying. At least he had survived and with little luck so would Carmine. With this thought in his mind, he fell asleep and woke up some time later in a hospital bed. The injection appeared to have contained some rather strong medication, as he didn’t have realized neither the arrival at the hospital nor them bringing him in the room. Had they already examined him? Probably not, gingerly he touched his injured cheek and realized that it was already bandaged. A few minutes later, a nurse came to check on him. He had some plastic clip on his finger, connecting him with a cable to a monitor. She smiled reassuringly, "Well, how do you feel?" Gabe shrugged, "I don’t know as if I had been hit by a truck maybe. Has my cheek already been stitched?" She nodded, "The wound was sutured, and your vital functions are now being monitored for the next 24 hours, this is a common procedure in cases of strong concussions."
"How is my father?" The nurse didn’t answer immediately, Gabe concluded that it didn’t look good for Carmine. "The ward physician will be right with you and inform you about your father’s condition."

She left the room again. Gabe tried to sit up in his bed. His head still hurt, and he felt dizzy. He looked down at himself. They had put him in one of those ridiculous nightgowns. He hated these things, and he wondered who in the world ever had this brilliant idea to put sick or injured people in nightgowns like that? Nightgowns that opened gaping with every movement and so freely gave away his ass in all its glory? That was simply humiliating. He lay down again. In the bed beside him, there was an elderly man with a bald head. He had a mask over his mouth and nose, and he was hanging on several tubes. The door opened, and a young doctor with some hipster glasses and a ton of gel in his hair came into the room, wearing a flowing white gown. He carried a clipboard with him and stood at the foot end of Gabe's bed. "Well how is our lucky fellow doing?" he gave him a friendly smile, "you probably had all the guardian angels of Ontario at your side this morning. Walking away almost unhurt from such an accident is quite remarkable!" Gabe didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that.

Everybody was telling him how lucky he was! Great, but none of them knew, that the plan had been him walking away without a scratch, and not be lying in a hospital bed with stitches on his cheek. Ok, it was probably better that way, because otherwise it would have been a bit weird. Carmine, who probably was in bad conditions and him getting away without a scratch, would have raised some serious suspicious thoughts eventually. All these thoughts crossed his mind when he raised his head looking at the young physician silently, which he apparently interpreted as consent. Anyway, he refrained from further conversation apparently not expecting any answer from him and went on to the next bed, where the old man lay still motionless bound to the tubes. When the physician was about to leave the room, Gabe cleared his throat his voice barely a whisper, he asked, "How is my father?" The physician turned around coming back to Gabe's bed. He looked serious, as if he had to tell him some bad news. Holy shit, Gabe thought, feeling thrilled inside, but trying to keep a sad face. It would certainly be strange if he started to smile. Quite lost in his thoughts he heard the doctor's voice as from afar getting into his consciousness. "Your father is in a vigilant coma and we hope being able to improve his values soon, so that he will soon regain consciousness." Alarmed Gabe looked up, so his father was alive, "What does that mean vigilant coma?" he tried to look as upset as possible, which wasn’t that hard, as he really didn't know what he meant.

Finally, the accident hadn’t worked out as planned. "It means that he might be awake, but we are not aware of what exactly he perceives for the time being, he can’t speak or make himself notice in any other way," the physician explained. Great, Gabe thought, a simple coma wasn’t enough, no it had to be a vigilant coma, so he still got what was going on around him. He took the physicians hand and did his best performance ever playing a suffering son, "But, he is going to make it, and he will recover, right?" he stared at the physician with big pleading eyes. "Unfortunately, we don’t know yet, it is still too early, but we will do our best. Get some rest now, and don’t worry too much, everything will be fine." The physician left the room, and Gabe remained behind, wondering what this vigilant coma meant for his plans. He had no idea.

The door opened again and two serious-looking men in dark suits came to his bedside. Gabe's first thought was, what does the Mafia want from me? But, then as one of them, a wiry guy with blond greasy pulled back hair and icy blue eyes in his mid-forties pulled out his FBI badge, Gabe suddenly realized that the police had found the severed brake cables. The guy was literally rubbing his badge under Gabe's nose. Gabe felt cold all of a sudden and his mind raced. How should he behave? What did they know? Was he a suspect? The guy with the greasy hair looked almost friendly at him, "FBI, we would like to ask you a few questions." The second guy was a little older than the first, about fifty and stocky. He looked grim and irritated not friendly at all. Gabe swallowed hard. "The brake cable of the Ferraris was severed, it was no accident, it was an attempted murder. Does your father have enemies?” What was he supposed to answer? Of course, Carmine Grande had enemies. What a question. He shrugged and looked at the two of them in silence. The fat ugly guy approached his bed threatening until his face was only a few inches from Gabe's face. He could smell his bad breath. Apparently, he was a big fan of garlic. All of a sudden, he felt sick, he held his hand over his mouth and vomited in a plastic basin, standing on the dresser next to his bed. The guy with the greasy hair apologized and pointed out to his colleague that he should go easy on him because he was still in state of shock. Like in the movies, they apparently had their roles, Good Cop, and Bad Cop. Gabe didn’t want to talk to them any longer.

His throat was burning like hell, and he grabbed the bottle of mineral water, standing on the dresser next to his bed. He took a big gulp. Exhausted, he leaned back. Good Cop apologized again for the rude approach of his colleague. Gabe didn’t wish for anything else than for them to disappear, going back where they came from, but he also knew that it was not going to happen just like that. Frustrated he opened his eyes, "Every wealthy business man has enemies; I am sure that you are aware of that. My father’s job as a divorce lawyer makes certainly no exception to the rule. Divorces bring out the worst in people and there certainly is bad blood involved. I don’t think that can be avoided." Bad Cop looked at him grimly, and Gabe feared he would come closer again. He sat up in a rush, which he immediately regretted because his head still ached. "What do you want from me? I was damn well in the car too." Bad Cop seemed unimpressed. "Where were you before the accident happened? Have you met someone else?"

Gabe sank back exhausted. He was going to tell the tale of Rhonda and her lover, as one of the nurses came into the room along with a familiar looking young woman. He couldn’t quite place her in his mind, which was odd, because she was damn pretty and had a face one wouldn’t forget that easy. Anyway, whoever she was, she snapped at the two FBI agents in an authoritarian way, telling them to leave him alone. She said he needed to rest. Then she chased them out of the room, and the funniest thing was that they obeyed without even complaining, making an exit getting lead out by the nurse. Gabe was stunned, God she was his heroine right now. The young woman was standing meanwhile beside Gabe's bed looking at his pale face still shaken by the previous nausea attack, "These vultures can hardly wait to interrogate you." Gabe raised his eyebrows, what an irony, she described the two FBI agents as vultures, as she was standing in front of one herself.

Suddenly he remembered why she seemed so familiar. She was the pretty paramedic who treated him after the accident. But, what was she doing here? She was still staring at him, "I wanted to make sure personally that you're okay. Anyway, I'm Lana Sewel, maybe you remember me." Gabe nodded, "How could I ever forget such a beautiful face." Was it the light or did she blush? She smiled nervously and didn’t have anything in common with the authoritarian woman who kicked out the two FBI agents before. Gabe hardly summed it up. The beautiful woman had obviously a crush on him. He had to admit that he was flattered. Finally, he didn’t look his best for now, especially after throwing up before, he looked like shit, but still she seemed to like him a lot. She looked at him apparently not sure what to do or say, "I just wanted to see if you were ok. You have gone through a lot," she reached into her purse and pulled out a business card, "I will give you my card, if you should need help, you can call me anytime. I run a support group for victims who suffer from post-traumatic shock conditions," she handed him the card and her warm fingers touched his icy hand. He gave her his best seductive look he was capable in his condition, "Thank you Lana, I appreciate that and will surely remember it. I assure you. You will hear from me no matter how good or bad I feel," he grabbed her hand and squeezed it.