The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1) (15 page)

I don’t think I’ve even been
more scared in my life. I rode in the ambulance to the hospital with him. They
rushed him into one of the rooms where I couldn’t follow. I had no clue what
the hell was wrong with him, but at least he was breathing. One of the nurses
directed me to an area to give them some information on him. I gave her my
insurance card, which was the same as his, but I could tell her nothing about
his health other than he always seemed fine to me. Maybe moving a little
slower, but the man was ancient, like sixty three. She told me to have a seat
in the waiting area while the doctors examined him and someone would be out to
talk to me. She handed me a pager and told me when it vibrated to come back to
the desk, the doctor would be there.

I only left my seat to walk
down the hall to get a drink of water and returned to my seat. I held my head
in my hands; I was alone. Joe was my only family and I was his. I didn’t even
have my gear with me, I’d left it back at the office and my cell phone was in the
bag. If I’d had it, there was only one person I’d call. Ivy. I needed her with
me so badly. Something made me look up and I saw two members of the Triad
heading in my direction. One was a leader like Joe, they were like brothers, he
also backed Joe’s desire to embrace the legitimate principals of a Tong; the
other man was his bodyguard. Uncle Tsang sat down beside me. I’d called him
that since I was five years old.

“How is he Maze?”

I shook my head. “I don’t
know, they haven’t told me anything yet.”

Uncle Tsang placed his hand
on my shoulder and patted it. “Don’t worry. That old goat is too strong to be
in this place for too long.”

He glanced up at his shadow,
who’d taken a position at the end of the row of chairs. Uncle Tsang must have
used some silent signal I didn’t pick up on, because the man came over to him
and Uncle Tsang spoke in rapid fire Cantonese, which I mostly got the gist of.
He told him to go check with the nurses on the status of his friend. I was
grateful to have Tsang with me.

Of the five heads, Tsang was
the only one Joe trusted. Although it was Tsang who, knowing Joe wanted out,
posed an easy yet profitable way for him to accomplish it. I knew it wasn’t
Tsang’s fault the other heads decided I could be of use to them, too. Tsang had
argued against my further involvement in the activities of the Triad and
continued to do so. But one against three, not likely to happen. Joe was kept
out of it, since they no longer considered him as having a vote. Joe was the
pawn they’d use to keep me close. Joe thought all that would be required of me
was to throw the fight, but it was so much more than that and I couldn’t bring
myself to tell him. He’d find out soon enough. Besides, there was really
nothing he could do, anyone could do. Even Uncle Tsang couldn’t convince the
others the money they made off the fight should be compensation enough.

Tsang’s guard came back with
a doctor in tow with a different nurse at his side. Tsang’s hand on my shoulder
helped to continue to brace me. The doctor looked between Uncle Tsang and me,
then down at his clipboard. “Maze Chang?”

“Yes, that’s me. I’m his
step-son. How is he doctor?” I noticed the look of confusion on the doctor’s
face over an obvious Asian name and a white man, I’d seen it many times on
others. Joe had legally changed my name when he adopted me. I asked him why
once, and he told me my mom would have wanted him to. That was good enough for
me.

“I wish I had better news for
you son, but your step-dad’s had a myocardial infraction.” It was my turn to look
confused because he realized he’d have to break down that explanation for me.
“A massive heart attack. There appears to be major blockage,” the doctor
clarified.

He went on to explain about
the heart muscles and cell damage. I understood about half of what he said
really, part of me was in shock. Joe had been my rock from the time I could
remember. The only thing I really understood was that he’d had a heart attack
and if he didn’t have the surgery now he would die.

Numbly I signed the forms the
nurse shoved in front of me without looking at them.

“As soon as we’re done and
know more I’ll come back out and talk to you,” the doctor said then he and the
nurse walked off.

Tsang and I sat down prepared
to wait. I wasn’t budging. At some point either Tsang moved or his guard did,
he placed a cup of coffee in my hand. I drank it just for something to do. My
mind was on the only father I’d ever known, and the woman I wanted desperately
to be there with me. I had no idea how much time had gone by when my pager began
to flash red and vibrate. I jumped up, my legs were stiff because I hadn’t
moved in awhile. That didn’t stop me from heading to the nurse’s desk. The same
doctor who’d spoken to me before was there this time in green surgical scrub.
When he saw me he walked toward me. Before he could say anything it was Tsang
who asked the question I couldn’t seem to choke out.

“How is he doctor?”

The doctor smiled. And my
lungs expanded in relief. He wouldn’t be smiling if the news was bad. “He came
through the surgery, and we managed to get the blockage removed.”

The doctor said some other
things but that’s all I heard, all I need to hear. He was alive and I’d be
allowed to go in and see him as soon as he was taken to a room. But he’d be
placed in intensive care for now.

The doctor left and then
another nurse explained to us where we could go to wait for Joe. I’m glad Uncle
Tsang was with me, he’d had his hand on my shoulder while the doctor spoke. He
left his bodyguard downstairs and he rode the elevator up one floor with me to
where they’d take Joe. At least he paid attention to where we were supposed to
go. I guess I was still numb. Once we arrived on the right floor, we were
directed to yet another waiting area where we were told to, yes, wait. So we
did. I put my head down and felt Uncle Tsang’s arm over my shoulder once more.
He might have even spoken words of reassurance to me. I wasn’t sure. I had no
idea how such a thing could have happened. Joe was in good shape, okay he had a
little punch but he was not overweight for his height and bone structure. His
diet for the most part was the same as mine and he worked out with me almost
everyday. How could he be sick? But he was.

It had been a long time since
I’d prayed. I wasn’t even sure I remembered how or even if there was anyone
there to listen. No one answered the prayers of a child when his mother was
shot and he prayed for her to live. Begged a god not to take her away from me.
Those prayers went unanswered that time. I think that’s when I stopped
believing. Still, I tried it again. I prayed Joe would recover and be all
right.

When the nurse came to find
us, she said we could go in but only one at a time and only for five minutes. I
went in first and had to swallow the damn lump in my throat when I saw Joe. He
was hooked up to all kinds of machines and his eyes were closed, like he was
asleep, there were lines on his face that hadn’t been there this morning. I
went over to the hospital bed and took his hand. The pressure I felt on my
fingers had me glancing toward his face. His eyes were open and he was staring
at me.

“Hi,” I said. “How do you
feel?” It was all I could think of to say. And not beg him not to die, not to
leave me.

“I’ll be fine.”

His voice was super soft, I
strained to hear him. “Did the doctor speak to you?”

“Yeah…heart attack…fine now.”

He kept blinking. I wasn’t
sure if he even knew exactly what had happened to him beyond the fact he’d had
a heart attack and was in the hospital. His eyes shut and didn’t reopen, the
hand that had squeezed mine went slack. I let his hand go and patted his arm. I
stood up and moved closer to him kissing his forehead. Tears welled up in my
eyes. Joe and I weren’t the kissing kind, rough hugs or high fives was about
it. But I knew he loved me like a son as I loved him like a father. “I will
come back in the morning. Love you, Joe,” I whispered and left the room. I
returned to the waiting area where Uncle Tsang waited.

“How is he?” Tsang asked.

“He seemed tired; he could
barely keep his eyes open. I think he fell asleep.”

“Wait for me. I’m just going
to pay my respects I’ll be right back. I’ll give you a lift home.”

True to his word Tsang wasn’t
gone long, and he took me home. I walked into the empty rowhouse we’d been
staying in while in New York for the fight. The place was empty, it wasn’t the
first time I came home and Joe wasn’t there, but it was the first time I felt
so alone. I went up to my room and lay on the bed; I reached for the phone
beside me then put it down. I remembered I’d never memorized her number, it was
in my cell phone, which was still back at the gym. Then I sat up, it suddenly
occurred to me my contacts were also in my iCloud all I had to do was get my
laptop. Things had changed.

“Fuck it!”

Chapter Sixteen

Ivy

“You’re on!”

The strident voice of the
chorographer cut through my thoughts. Crap! I almost missed a cue. I had to
focus. Dante hugged me and whispered, “Don’t let the fuck win.”

I smiled and nodded at him.
He always knew what to say. For the last few weeks I’d existed in a fog. I got
up, went to classes, rehearsal and home. Spoke when I was spoken to, went out
once or twice with Dante and some of the other dancers, minus Christy. Even
took a call from my parents. But underneath it all, my heart was bruised. I
refused to think broken, Maze bruised me. And damnit it hurt. After that night
we made love, I refused to call it anything else, even as a novice, I knew we
connected. We always had. He was inside my heart and for a moment when we’d
joined I would have sworn I was inside of his. Which made his disappearing,
again, confusing, bewildering and unforgiveable. I had more questions than
answers when it came to him. Why did he come back into my life, show me
emotions I’d never had with anyone else only to leave? Without a word, just
gone, and not returning my text or calls.

Dante got us into position. I
plastered a smile on my face and looked out in to the audience and waited for
the point in the music for me to move, vowing to forget everything and just
immerse myself in the music and dance. Let it take me to that place it always
had. The movements came easily to me. I knew these steps; I’d danced them a
thousand times. Move to the far side away from Dante, sout de chat, then after
coming down I landed my turns came out of them in to an arabesque, then Dante
lifted me into the press lift. The next move was easy, after he put me down we
ran around each other to prepare for another lift. But Dante had the strength
to carry it off, and I trusted him. When we came together again he lifted, then
twisted me so I landed high on his shoulder, for the shoulder sit.

When he released me I ran
forward away from Dante, into a developpe and my foot skidded on a spot on the
floor, throwing me off center. I felt the twist and pull on my ankle then I was
falling, unable to stop it but I immediately popped back up for the remaining
eight counts. I finished my variation then I stepped to the side as Dante began
his variation. At that point as I stood still I realized the extent of the
injury from the stabbing pain shooting from her ankle and I had still to
perform the fouette in the coda.

I ignored the applause Dante
got from the crowd and pushed through the pain to think quickly. Instead of the
fouette, I piqued, turned on my uninjured foot around Dante and sauted off
stage Dante quickly following behind me. Thank God the show was over.

The moment I made it back
stage I collapsed to the ground my ankle unable to hold my weight. The pain
excruciating, resonating through every nerve in my body. Dante immediately
knelt beside me, and everyone else soon surrounded me. I think I must have
passed out for a moment from the excruciating pain running rampant through
every nerve ending in my body, starting from my ankle. I looked at my ankle and
it’s swollen three times the size it normally is. The moment Dante tried to
remove my pointe shoe I cried out and felt woozy.

The entire time I prayed this
injury not be as bad as the last time I’d injured that same ankle, a lateral
sprain. Fully aware each time you hurt an ankle the strength never quite comes
back. It’s never the same. But from the pain this was much worse.