Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo (17 page)

“I never ever tried
to hurt you,” Louise said.

“I know. I’m going
out,” Abbi said. “I hate this waiting and I’m starved. There has to be
something to eat around here.”

“You can’t leave
without me. Want a candy bar?” Louise asked, sitting in a wooden chair and
resting her head on her arms. “Or chips?”

 “I want real
food! And you’ll feel better if you eat too. You eat too much junk.”

            “OK,” Louise said. “You’ve
twisted my arm.” She went outside with her wig still on. Abbi followed, but
first she placed the blonde wig carefully in her luggage and then loosened her
hair.

            “Scott, have you
eaten?” Louise asked.

            “No. I’m just here for
the ride.”

            “We’re hungry, Scott.
Can we grab some food somewhere?” Abbi asked.

            “If you don’t mind
having me tag along,” Scott said. “I can drive you wherever you want to go
within a 5-mile radius.”

            “We don’t mind!” Louise
said a little too eagerly.

            Abbi laughed and
checked food locations on her phone.

            “There’s a pizza place
and a sandwich shop at Tanglewood Mall near 581,” she said. “Maybe three miles
away?”

            “I suggest getting take-out,”
Scott said. “Decide what you want and I’ll take you there.”

“Good. Can we eat
in this buggy? Then maybe take a hike?” Abbi asked.

Louise said, “Are
you telling the driver to take a hike, as in, get away from us?”

            Abbi looked at her
sideways and didn’t answer.

Scott laughed.

“Damn it! I am a
bundle of nervous energy. I just want to get this operation over with!” Abbi
said. “And this place is disturbing, not relaxing at all.”

“It’s not the
Hilton,” Scott said. “We’re on call, so as long as you stay close, I’ll follow
you.”

Louise gave him
her big open smile again. Abbi rolled her eyes at Louise.

“You’re looking
desperate,” she mouthed silently to Louise.

Then Abbi noticed
a car approaching. “Scott, look at the man inside that car. He looks like
trouble.”

 “Relax,” Scott
said. “It’s good to be alert, but not every Latino you see is a criminal or a gang
member. Just be cool. Hop in and we’ll get that food you wanted. Did you lock
your room?”

Abbi said, “Not
sure.”

Still in her dress
clothes and running shoes, Abbi returned to the room to get her handbag and
lock. As she left her room, she passed the man who by now had parked his car
not far from Scott’s and also faced their room. The window was down and the man
was talking on the phone in Spanish with his elbow propped at the open window.

Something caught Abbi’s
eye, and a chill ran through her body. She tried not to stare but there it was.

The back of his
left hand had a very ornate tattooed M!

           
Officer Benson
stepped out on the sidewalk but saw no sign of his only daughter.

Frantically, he scanned the nearest
intersection to find her.

            “Maria!” he called.

            “Daddy, you can’t call
me that. Remember?” she said quietly, appearing from beside the building.

            “What just happened
back there?” her father asked.

            “The doctor disrespected
me. I won’t talk to him,” she said firmly.

            “You’ve got to talk to
somebody!” he said. “You’re gonna have to get checked out. His guess is
hepatitis. That’s serious, baby.”

            “I’ll talk to Mrs.
Hightower.”

            “She’s not a doctor.”

            “Then there’s got to be
another doctor.”

            “What about the nurse practitioner
back there?”

            “She asked too many
questions.”

            “Look, Kiddo, if
they’re going to get answers, they have to ask the questions.”

            “I’ll talk to Mrs.
Hightower.”

            “I’ll see if that’s
possible. In the meantime, you have to get a physical exam. If I ask the nurse
practitioner to just examine you, no questions, are you OK with that?”

            Tina thought for a
moment. This would allow her to get medicine. She already knew she was sick
with coughing and a tingly all-over fatigue, and she felt like it was getting
worse.

            “If she’ll promise she
won’t ask questions, I’ll do it,” Tina said, looking her father square in the
face.

            “Come with me. I’ll
ask.”

            While her father
negotiated with the nurse practitioner, Tina sat and tried to listen in. Her
father mentioned the word trauma and the nurse nodded.

Tina wondered how
much the NP would have to touch and probe her. When the woman mentioned getting
some blood tests, Tina almost protested. She looked up at her father,
questioning.

            “It has to be done.
It’s the only way to get you better,” he said to her.

            The nurse practitioner nodded
and motioned for Tina with a smile but without speaking. Tina went obediently
with her and glanced back only briefly at her father, as if she might bolt.

            “I’m Teresa. Do you
think you can pee in a cup for me?” the nurse practitioner asked before they
reached the examination room.

No questions, Tina
thought. OK, this one’s safe. Whether she actually could, she didn’t know.

            Tina took the cup and
tried, through her nervousness, to produce a urine sample. At least she was in
the privacy of a restroom. She turned on the water and that seemed to help. She
washed her pubic region before and afterwards, according to instructions on a
little HOW-TO sign.

When she left the
restroom, a technician waited outside her door to take the specimen to the lab.

            The nurse practitioner stood
at the examination room door, still smiling. She weighed Tina, took her blood
pressure, and managed to smile her way through drawing blood, suggesting that,
if Tina didn’t want to feel the sting of the needle so acutely, she could study
a painting on the wall.

That reminded Tina
of times she would study a crack on the ceiling, back in the cantina, and she
was proud of herself when she was able to dismiss that memory. She even smiled
back at the NP for suggesting the painting and didn’t wince at the blood test.
In retrospect, the blood drawing was minor.

Throughout the
entire exam the NP smiled and talked only briefly when she needed Tina to
disrobe, put on a gown, and lie back on the examination table.

            “You’ll want privacy,
so I’m going to leave the room for just a few minutes,” Teresa said.

            Tina felt grateful for
the privacy, folded her clothes carefully and pulled the cloth gown tightly
around her before the NP returned. She searched for strings to tie it.

            Before she was ready,
there was a knock on the door.

“May I come in
now?” the NP asked and cautiously opened the door. Tina was still looking for
tie strings.

“I’m sorry, Tina.
It just gaps open. Here’s an additional little coverup for you. I want you to
know I’m not a certified OB/GYN, but I’ve had the training for these tests. If
you don’t mind, I’d like to be the one to give you a pelvic exam and a PAP
smear. I’m only here to help you.”

Tina agreed. She
didn’t want Dr. Feldman touching her. The NP said nothing during this part of
the exam and gave no indication that she knew about Tina’s ordeal.

By the end of the
exam, the Nurse Practitioner had done a comprehensive STD test packge that
included, among other things, Hepatitis strains A, B, and C. Some of the tests
were already conclusive, she told Tina, but not all of them. Regardless, she
felt she had enough information to move forward with a suggestion for treatment.

“We’ll wait and
see what else might show up, but for now, let’s get you on an aggressive HCV
treatment. It can be a little harsh, so you’ll want to get plenty of rest to
help your body deal with it. Get to bed early every night and try not to eat a
big meal right before bedtime. Drink a lot of clear fluids to flush your body.
Strive to be happy.”

Teresa smiled and
Tina smiled back.

            “That’s really
important, being happy and rested. And also remember, Tina, I’m here if you
just want to talk. Here’s my card. Feel free to call.”

            Teresa signed the card
and wrote her cell phone number on it.

Tina left the exam
feeling like she had a friend. She smiled when she gave her father the
prescription.

            “I’m going to get
better,” she said.

            Before they left the
clinic, Teresa came out to talk with Tina’s father.

            “Can you step into my
office for a couple of minutes, Mr. Benson?” she asked. “Tina, it’s OK if you
come too.”

            “Mr. Benson, my name is
Teresa. Thanks for filling out some of the paperwork. Your daughter’s health is
a real concern to me but we seem to have caught this early. Here’s a list of
our results so far and a treatment plan.”

Teresa handed him
some papers and continued, “This brochure will help show you what we’re up
against. Please follow-through on this treatment and be sure Tina is getting
enough rest. This would be a good time for pampering at home: good food, quiet
games, music, books to read, movies, and so forth. There’s also a prescription.
Please try to get it filled today.”

She turned to Tina
and said, “Come back in two months unless you get a fever. If your fever
returns, you’ll need to get medical attention fast.  If anything further shows
up on these tests, I’ll contact you. I want to see a much healthier and much
happier young lady when you return. And, Tina, if you have questions or just
want to talk, remember you can call me anytime.”

            Tina smiled again.

           
Abbi hurried to
the SUV where Scott and Louise were waiting.

            “That man is one of the
gang members,” she whispered.

            “Relax. He’s one of our
plants,” Scott said. “He works for us.”

            “A plant?” Louise
asked.

            “How do you know?” Abbi
asked.

            “First of all, I was
expecting him. Second, notice that his car has a government license plate.
He’ll be heading to the woods as soon as the operation gets in full swing. Believe
it or not, he’s a sniper and no one will see him. In fact, you’ll probably pass
right by him when you go into the woods to do your drop.”

            “How do you know so
much?” Louise asked.

            “I’ve been at this a
long time,” Scott said.

            Out of the blue, Louise
asked, “You’re not married, are you?”

            “Whoa, girl! What do
you want to eat? Sandwich or pizza?” Abbi asked, interrupting Louise’s line of
questioning.

            “I was just politely
chit-chatting,” Louise said in self defense. “Pizza sounds good.”

            “Scott?”

            “I’m good,” he said.

            “You guys never eat,”
Abbi said. “I’m also getting a salad. Anyone else?”

            Abbi placed the order
and they drove toward Tanglewood Mall for pick-up.

            “Do you mind if I shop
after we eat?” Louise asked.

            “No shopping,” Scott
said. “I’m on the clock.”

            “I’m not,” Louise
protested.

            “Louise, we’re just
going to get our food and get back. I want to be ready for the mission and I
want this whole thing to be over soon!” Abbi said.

            “So it looks like we could
spend days at that dreary hotel and I won’t get any shopping done,” Louise
said. She turned her shoulder to Abbi and sat sulking as they drove around to
the pick-up window.

Abbi tried to hand
Scott some of Mrs. Hightower’s expense money to pay for the meal, but Scott
said he’d get it this time and he could turn in the receipt for reimbursement.

“I don’t want to
eat in the room. It’s dirty-looking in there,” Louise said, still pouting.

“You can eat in here,”
Scott said. “We do all the time.”

“Then please eat,
Scott. You bought it and there’s plenty!” Abbi said.

She suggested
finding a picnic table but admitted she was too hungry to wait. She passed
around the food and began on her salad. The driver chose to wait, as Abbi
suspected he would. He drove instead back to the hotel.

When they pulled
into the parking lot, Abbi studied the suspicious car. She just had a bad
feeling about it. The license plate was not Government Issue. In fact, a
sticker in the back window showed that this was a rental from somewhere in
Virginia.

“Scott, I think
it’s not what you think,” she said as she noted the license plate.

“Let me remind you
not to jump to conclusions. Just to prove it’s safe, I’ll have someone in I-T check
out its status. This should only take a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” Abbi
said as Scott pulled the SUV around the building.

Scott took a piece
of the pizza. The three of them sat and ate in silence, waiting for the report
to come back. While they waited, Abbi was aware that the afternoon sun was
moving across the sky and rain would soon be falling. She checked the phone
periodically for the time. Hurry and wait. Waiting didn’t come easy for her.

Louise kept trying
in vain to extract personal information from the driver and throw in what she
thought might be interesting information about herself, like the fact that she
wanted to become an accountant. Scott nodded thoughtfully and told her the
government could always use good accountants.