Chapter 3

Madeline, Jenny, and Dorothy were all seated at a table near the back of a small restaurant down the street from where they worked. Madeline and Jenny were still close, but both had noticed Dorothy had been slowly distancing herself.

Madeline had her suspicions; while she was the front runner for the upcoming partnership, she knew Dorothy was crafty and had been working overtime with all three partners on the tech. contract. It was becoming a big deal; they’d even pulled Kamenitz into the project and he did mostly medical. Of the lead lawyers only she, Madeline, still remained outside the loop, and it had started to be a concern. That wasn’t what they were discussing that afternoon though; they were discussing something else – men.

Jenny, waving her left hand all about; grinned furiously, “Just look at that will you?”

A once divorced Dorothy smiled condescendingly, “Wow, a whole half karat. Big spender.”

Madeline came to the rescue, “For Christ’s sake Dorothy it’s a beautiful ring. The guy’s still in med school; half a karat’s quite a lot. I’m jealous Jenny. You got anybody Dorothy?”

“More than you shit for brains. Speaking of shit; tell us, how’s your shit scooper?”

Madeline, regretted telling them anything since that first night at the bar so she lied, “Don’t know, haven’t thought about him ... or seen him.” Her problem; it was a double lie. She couldn’t get him out of her head. Frustratingly, since her tomfoolery with the real estate boy she’d been seeing her ‘horse boy’ pretty regularly. He and she had become a real item, or she thought so.

For a moment she allowed her mind to wander back to Colt. When together they never talked much and sometimes she wished they would, but in bed, or on her kitchen table, or in the living room on her sofa he proved to be a magnificent lover. Never over-eager, restfully calm, comfortably confident, unnervingly unpredictable, and never too tired and she loved every minute of it. He played her like a fine violin. In fact she’d self-consciously created two wardrobes; one business-like and for work, the other soft and alluring for Colt.

She thought about her clothes; the austere business suits by day, the soft coquettish rompers and pull-overs by night.

There was something extra-special about Colton and his way with her. He never asked her how good he was, he never bragged about his size or stamina, but he always seemed to be able to adapt himself in ways that unceasingly pleased her. He enjoyed cunnilingus, he had a way with his fingers wherein he always found her ‘G spot’, his thumb was always on her clitoris, and when he entered her she when was already half crazy. Yet he never, not once either verbally or physically suggested she do him, and he never did more anally than tickle her perineum and occasionally kiss or press his tongue in her anus. Best of all he was warm; his breath never smelled, his manner was manly and forceful without being brutish. He was strong, sometime she felt trapped and helpless, but she never felt like she was being used or abused. She just didn’t know how he did it, but she knew she loved it.

Dorothy waved her hand, “Hey Madeline. Earth to Madeline.” Attention restored she dug deeper, “I thought you were going to turn him into some kind of ‘Prince Charming’? What happened; you stopped liking Pabst Blue Ribbon?”

“Fuck you Dorothy,” was Madeline’s retort.

Dorothy scoffed and got up, “Look. You two can stay here all day if you want, but I’ve got to get back to work,” she stepped away, pushed in her chair and walked off.

Jenny, still admiring her ring, said, “Dorothy’s really in deep with one of the guys from that tech. company. I don’t think they’re doing anything. I hope not; from the scuttlebutt it’s a big project. She could mess things up. Madeline, you heard anything?”

“Honey I don’t even know the name of the company.”

Jenny looked surprised, “No? It’s Lingtalevought.”

Madeline’s eyes widened, “Lingtalevought?”

“You heard of it?”

“My god yes,” responded Madeline, “it’s big. You know who their man is?”

“No, can’t say. Only seen him once. All the work’s being done out of his offices down in Martinsburg.”

Madeline thought, ‘No, it couldn’t be Brad; he’s a nobody’. She turned thoughts of Brad and the tech. thing from her mind, “So you’re going make a go of it with your doctor?”

“We’re going to try. Now really Madeline, tell me what’s going on with your farmer. I know you. We’ve talked.”

Madeline was honest with Jenny about Colton, at least mostly, “Jenny I can’t seem to put him in my rearview mirror. Can’t say why. It’s not the sex. He’s good, but it’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“Damned if I know Jenny. He’s handsome, but I wouldn’t call him especially personable. I just don’t know.”

Jenny finished her drink, “Just that special something I guess. Pheromones; like my man, no Adonis but I think about him all the time. He makes me feel warm inside, not like sex, just warm, you know what I mean? Your farmer make you feel that way?”

Madeline relied distantly, “No can’t say that I’ve ever felt like that about any man. They’re all scum,” she’d lied again, she had felt that way once. Now? She didn’t know. She remembered back in her freshman year at State College, her ‘Frat boy’. He’d made her feel that way, and it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life. Funny, she didn’t feel that way about Colton, but it was like she wanted him to make her feel that way. Oddest thing. Did she feel that way about Colton? She was confused.

Madeline started to get up. She found the check, “My treat today. You head on back to the office. I think I’ll take a short walk.”

Jenny got up, “Don’t take too long. Remember, you and Mr. Hanlon have a scheduled meeting with Smith and Olsen about that new development outside Middletown.”

“I won’t forget,” Madeline stepped away, paid the cashier, and walked out into the clear sunlight, ‘What’s wrong with me? What am I going to do? Maybe I should call the Neanderthal tonight, set a date and get him off my mind once and for all?’ As she walked on she thought about State College, her Frat boy, and what happened. Had it been her fault? At first maybe, but not later. He got inside her head and then he really used her. It still hurt. Among other things Colton was inside her head too.

The doctors caring for Chelsea hadn’t found her mother, but they had found her aunt, the two cousins. They were all there. Irma was there too. They were all standing and sitting around the bed when the doctor who was currently on her case spoke. He aimed his comments at Colton’s mom, “We’re sorry. But we’ve been unable to do anything for her. The charts record very little, and our monitors haven’t been able to pick up much of anything. Her heart is still beating, but faintly, and it’s weakening. Brain activity is minimal.”

The second doctor asserted, “Thankfully there’s been provision for a living will. She requested she not be kept alive artificially beyond a reasonable length of time. More than what we’re doing there’s nothing. She’s being fed intravenously. She could go on like this for years.”

Colton’s mom mumbled, “Uh huh.”

The first doctor added, “In her mother’s absence this is a decision you’ll have to make.”

Colton’s mom and Emit stood quietly by. It was Colton who spoke up; he wasn’t sure of anything but, he didn’t like doctors, and he especially didn’t like these two, “I say no to what you’re suggesting, and here’s why. I’ve been here the whole time, it’s been days. I tell you something happened; it happened two nights ago,” he turned to a nearby nurse, “You remember. I called for you and told you.”

The nurse entreated, “Yes, but there was no significant...”

He wouldn’t hear it, “I told you what happened. I told all of you. I may have been half asleep, but I know I wasn’t dreaming. She opened her eyes, and it wasn’t some vacuous stare. She looked at me. She looked right at me; then she closed her eyes again.”

Colton’s mom appealed to her son, “We all love her; none of us want...”

“Want what, Colton angrily responded, “cut off her food supply, her water, let her starve or dehydrate beyond ... Not going to happen,” he turned to the doctors, “You pull the feeding tube, and I’ll sue your ugly asses. I can. I will and I mean it.”

The first doctor tried to mollify the agitated young man, “We wouldn’t do that. That’s a family decision.”

Colton puffed out his chest, “That’s it then. We’ll keep her on the feed until she either dies or she becomes so emaciated she can’t survive or until she wakes up.”

The doctors looked at each other. The second spoke, “We’ll move her to another room and...”

“No,” Colton exclaimed, “I’ve been checking around. I’ve found some things out. We can take her home. Medicaid will provide a part time nurse, for a while anyway. I’ve already called a hospice. Just the same we should keep her right here. I don’t have a job. I mean I do have a job; it’s just not a paying job.”

Emit asked, “What’s that?”

Colton pushed over beside his comatose cousin, “Her. I have her. I’ll keep watch.”

Colton’s mom interjected, “We’ll need money. We’re already behind in the rent. We all have to eat. Colton be reasonable. If there’s no money...”

Irma spoke up, “There’ll be money. The Lord will provide.”

The group was collectively taken aback. Colton countered, “Irma I don’t believe in the loaves and fishes shit. So don’t go there.”

Always poised and controlled, Irma quietly replied, “We’ll see.”

Boogie Gibrov, up and coming West Pennsylvania real estate talent, one-time one and done sex partner of Madeline Westerbrook, and son of crooked antique dealer Jezreel Gibrov handed the key and contract for Madeline’s unused barn to one of his father’s shady associates, “Here’s the key and the agreement. Be careful, not stupid. Do all your storing in broad daylight. Anybody asks, tell them you have a contract. If it’s a cop show them the paperwork.”

The shady character inquired, “Any trouble with the lawyer?”

Boogie replied, “Not that’s it’s any of your business, but no, she was too busy to do more than glance at it. And remember, if you get caught you’re just a delivery man. You don’t know anything.”

“Gotcha,” responded the shady associate.

Western Pennsylvania wasn’t a place for big cities. No New Yorks, no Pittsburghs, no Philadelphias graced their landscape. Poor old Western Pennsylvania was just little towns inhabited by little people; people who’d seen the best of their communities hollowed out by the big eastern banks, the giant corporations, and monolithic conglomerates. But big things could happen in little places where little people lived. People all over the region, from Chambersburg to Mercersburg, to Greencastle; everybody knew someone who knew someone who either knew the Colton-Chelsea story or who knew someone who knew about it, and these little nobodies started dipping in their pockets. At first the money just trickled in. Some kid at the high school took up a collection. Then it was the 4H. Someone in the FFA heard about it. Some of the guys down at the fire hall put out a pot, the pot filled up. Preachers and Sunday school teachers started talking. The trickle became a flow, then for a while a flood. It would never be enough, but it meant something. Chelsea was a nothing, but because she was a nothing she was important, just like the worthless sparrow.

It was several days before another reality caught up with Colton. The state police had found him.

Lieutenant Hargreaves had been following the trail of the Girty brothers for some time. He had their connections and their mules; plus he felt he had several users whose testimonies might be useful in court. Then out of nowhere a new name surfaced – Colton Stewart.

Hargreaves, holding some paperwork, sat at his desk and remarked to his partner Sergeant Venice Biscotti, “This stuff about Colton Stewart looks like a lot of garbage to me. I know these people. He’s got a fucked up, oops, sorry there, I mean he’s got a messed up aunt, but this boy’s whole life has been centered on some invalid kid who lives with them. He’s not the type.”

Sergeant Biscotti replied, “You’re the boss Mike, but I think we should still at least pick him up.”

“Scare the shit out of him?”

“Yeah,” Venice nodded, “he might know something.”

“I agree. We’re lucky; who’d a guessed he’d be in a hospital all this time?”

“Let’s drive over there.”

Hargreave stood up, and added, “Let’s find his aunt and have her picked up too.”

Biscotti grinned, “Turn up the heat?”

Hargreave grinned back, “Yeah. Come on let’s go.”

Patty Lanter, Chelsea’s addicted mother was hiding in a bus terminal outside Winchester when they finally caught up with her. It didn’t take them long to figure things out; she’d sold their drugs on the sly and tried to run off with the money. They never found any money, and after some ‘enhanced interrogation and finding a good ‘place’ they fixed it so nobody would ever find her body either.

Staring out across the expanse of corn fields and pasturage that made up most of western Pennsylvania Madeline sat in her car holding her cell phone. She kept telling herself, ‘The only way to get the son-of-a-bitch totally out of my mind is to see him again and have some kind of serious conversation. He’s nothing, a nobody, a greasy slime ball. I need to see that. Once I do I’ll forget him. She’d almost made it, got him out of her system, but for those stupid local newspaper stories about the girl in a coma and the cousin who wouldn’t leave her side. It was when some commentator on some stupid local news show mentioned some names. God she hated western Pennsylvania! She punched in his phone, it started to ring.

Still on his knees Colton felt his phone vibrate against his thigh. He swiveled around, sat down on his ass, pulled out his phone, opened it, and ... it was his lawyer. Thinking he certainly didn’t need any of her shit he said, “Yeah, Madeline?”

“Yes it’s me. I thought...”

“Look Madeline I’m kind of busy right now. We had something come up. I don’t have much time.”

“Just a minute Colton, that’s all. Where are you? You at that hospital?”

He looked up. Chelsea’s precious little hand had slipped off the side of the bed, “Look I said I’m busy. Problems with Chelsea.”

Colton’s voice sounded tense, strained, she said, “I know. I heard. Which hospital?”

“It’s not your problem Madeline.”

“Which hospital?”

“Saint Isadore’s.”

Madeline closed her phone. Saint Isadore’s, yes, it wasn’t very far. She started her car, let out the emergency brake, put it in gear, and pulled away.

Colton sat beside his still immobile cousin. On his knees, alone in the hospital room, all weepy, he prayed. He was begging, bargaining with God. He avowed, “Let her live God and I’ll do anything. I’ll take care of her all the rest of my life. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. I’ll do anything. Anything! Please God, just let her live. Take me instead. Give her back and I’ll do anything. I promise. I mean it, church every Sunday. I’ll even tithe. I swear I will.”

He didn’t realize it until he started to cry. He was sobbing, and there was someone else in the room. Embarrassed he turned around.

Colton was kneeling beside the bed when she got there. She rushed over and got down beside him, “Colton, what happened?”

He blushed. He looked down, shamefaced, he mumbled, “You didn’t need to come.”

Madeline took his right hand in her two. He looked so tired. For such a young man he looked old, haggard. There were lines where there shouldn’t be. Then it happened! As though a light blinked on someplace, an emotional gear shifted and she understood, she realized what it was about him. This was a good man, a really good man, a caring man. He had a decency few others she’d ever met had. It was certainly something no man she’d ever dated had; he had what they called substance. And that’s what it was. That’s was why she couldn’t shake him. But then ... it still didn’t fit. If he was a ‘right guy’, where was the ambition? Why hadn’t he finished college? Why’d he end up just lying around shoveling shit? If he’d finished college he would’ve had the credentials to get that good job. Then he could’ve taken care of Chelsea properly. She had to admit; the whole thing was just too totally fucked up.

She looked at Chelsea lying in the bed, so helpless, so frail. Looking back at Colton she saw something else, something more. For all that was wrong with Chelsea there was one thing she wasn’t; she wasn’t alone. She had Colton. No matter what - she had him. Somehow they didn’t just complement each other; it was like they completed each other. That was why he dropped out. She was close to the end. Sure, that was it, he had to be there. For a second she felt jealous.

Madeline asked again, “What’s wrong? What is it?”

Near the end of his rope, Madeline’s appearance seemed an added strain. He lied, “Don’t exactly know. She fell or hit something. There’s an old bullet near her heart; might have been jarred, maybe moved. Her head; she’d had other injuries when she was a baby, something there maybe ... We just don’t know. I only know I can’t leave her.”

Madeline wanted something, she needed something, but he needed more, “Of course you can’t, and you shan’t. Is there anything I can do?”

Colt looked at her. God she looked good; dark blue skirt, slim waist, low cut dark blue blouse, but cut in what he thought was a genteel manner, sexy but not cheap. She smelled good. He pushed those thoughts aside and thought, ‘Maybe, ‘ he asked, “Madeline do you know where we live?”

“Near LeeMaster I think.”

“Yes, west of Chambersburg,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out his house key, “Here,” taking a pencil he jotted the address down on a scrap of paper, “Use your GPS. Upstairs in Chelsea’s room there’s her computer. Sorry, it’s s desk top. Could you get it?”

She took the paper and key and stood up. Then almost unconsciously she leaned down, touched, and then kissed his cheek, “I’ll be right back.”

He looked up, confused by the kiss he whispered, “Drive carefully?”

Smiling she sped from the room dreamily thinking, ‘I can help.’

He looked at Chelsea. He thought of Madeline. He needed someone. He needed help; she showed up. Why? What or who sent her? He wanted to see Chelsea’s computer. He needed to see what she’d been doing. Why? He didn’t know, just another confused thought, but maybe ... What if? A word, a sentence, anything, something that might trigger, oh it was stupid, useless; he was grasping at straws, but she was wasting away.

He sniffled. The monitor? Did it? Was there? Was he hallucinating? A dream? He looked down. She was looking at him! She was looking right him just like before! “Chelsea,” he exclaimed!

Her eyes closed. He was going insane. He saw her! He did! Didn’t he? Did it happen? Was it a dream?

One of the nurses appeared, “There was something... ,” she saw the look on his face, and immediately left.

Five minutes. It hadn’t been that long, and the house doctor was in the room beside the young man, “There was exaggerated activity on her heart monitor. Did you...”

Colton, teary eyed, exhausted, whispered, “She opened her eyes again. Like the last time. She looked at me.”

The doctor moved around the bed. He felt the girl’s forehead. He used a finger and opened an eyelid. Wanting to personally confirm the monitor’s messages he listened with his stethoscope. He felt her stomach. Looking at Colt he said, “I’d like you to leave the room. Just for a moment.”

Colton made as if to more firmly entrench.

The doctor appealed, “Just for a minute.”

Colton stood and stepped backward one pace. Suspicious, he replied, “I’ll be right outside.”

The doctor had already moved on. To the nurse he said, “M.I.T. Get me Professor Mitlaff, that’s Gustav Mitlaff as soon as you can. Oh and you can send our guest back in.”

Seconds later Colton was back in the room staring at the doctor expectantly, “Well?”

“I’m making a call to a Doctor at Sloane-Kettering. Getting another opinion. There’re are procedures, brain stimulation. Mr. Stewart I don’t want to raise any hopes, but we got something a moment ago, something extraordinary. I’ve been looking at her eyes, and I checked under a lid. There’s rapid eye movement. That doesn’t mean anything. Don’t get excited. She could be comatose for years and dream every day. But you were here. You said she focused on you.”