Chapter 9: Heart Attack

Monday, November 20, 2017

“Hey, Grim, how’s your dad?”

I looked up from my desk at Tiny Washburn. As a senior sergeant in the Tactical Response Team, I had my own desk. Not an office, but a desk. I could live with that.

I stared curiously at Tiny. Tiny was in Patrol, an African-American, shaved bald like me, and a mountain of a man, six-foot-three and 250 pounds if he was an ounce. He had some serious seniority, even more than me, but stayed on the graveyard shift because he didn’t want to put up with the white shirts on days. It was 1000, so he was coming off shift. I was on day shift and most days I would be on patrol, but I had been finishing some paperwork. “My dad?” I asked.

He returned my stare. “Yeah. At the hospital.”

“Tiny, what are you talking about?” What was my father doing at Matucket General – and why didn’t I know about it?

“I was over at the hospital last night with an overdose and a transfer to the jail. I saw your mother there with a guy her age who I am assuming is your father. I know it was your mother, since I’ve seen her a bunch of times in the ER.”

I nodded in understanding. Mom had worked the emergency room since forever, and most of the department knew her and the other folks there. “Well, unless Mom is pulling a fast one on Dad, I assume it would be him. What was going on?”

Tiny shrugged. “Don’t know for sure, but he was on one of the tables, sitting up and talking to your mom.”

“Huh! First I’ve heard of it. Hold on a sec.” I picked up the phone and called Dispatch. After identifying myself, they told me that an ambulance had been sent to 640 Piney Terrace at 2315 last night. I hung up and looked at Tiny. I didn’t know what to say.

“Get the fuck out of here and get to the hospital,” he told me.

I nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s what I’m going to do.” I stood up and grabbed my jacket.

I grabbed the ride assigned to me, a Tactical Response Vehicle known as Tom 9-3 and immediately told Dispatch I was heading to the hospital and going out-of-service. Being second in command of TRT gave me a fair bit of leeway with my schedule. I was expected to not just patrol, but to respond to any situations requiring a sergeant and to any other unusual situations. My father in the hospital rated as an unusual situation as far as I was concerned.

I parked in the section for emergency vehicles and went in through the automatic doors. Once inside, I made my way to the main nurse’s station. A young nurse looked up and said, “Hello, uh, Officer Reaper.” She was new and was reading my name off the tag on my uniform. “How can we help?”

A more senior nurse looked over and said, “Hey, Grim, here to see your dad?”

I nodded and said, “Yeah, what’s going on? I heard my folks were here last night.”

She nodded and came over. “Stacy, this is the Grim Reaper. He’s Maureen’s son.” To me she said, “Stacy just started with us last week.”

I stuck my hand out. “Welcome to Matucket, Stacy. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Thank you.”

“So, what’s with my father?” I asked.

The senior nurse answered, “We can’t tell you, but we checked him in. Give me a second and I’ll send you up to the room.” She went to her computer and looked him up. Dad was in East 214, and they hit the button opening the doors to send me into the hospital.

I went into the main part of the hospital and found the elevators. From where I was, East 214 was up a flight and to the left. I found 214 and the door was partially open, and I could hear my parents inside. I knocked and went inside. I found Dad in the hospital bed, wearing a gown and covered to the waist with a sheet. He had an IV going into his left arm and had several machines plugged in and beeping. Mom was sitting in a chair next to him and holding his hand.