Chapter 2: Healing Alone

Dexter was pushed out the door of the hospital in a wheelchair to where a taxi was waiting for him. He wasn’t too pleased about being alone. At least there wasn’t a crowd of reporters waiting for him. The President had said something stupid – again – and the attention of the press had turned from Dexter back to Washington. He was pleased that he was no longer the center of national attention.

He climbed from the wheelchair into the taxi. The driver appeared to be in his late forties to early fifties. The man didn’t even bother to look towards Dexter. “Where to?”

Dexter told the taxi driver the address of his apartment. He was looking forward to returning home. He still felt weak, but he figured he would feel a lot better after a day or two around the apartment. Truthfully, he couldn’t wait to get undressed and lounge around the house.

Once the taxi had left the hospital, Dexter asked, “Have you been driving a taxi long?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like driving a taxi?” Dexter asked after waiting to see if the driver would add a few more details to his answer.

“I guess.”

Wondering if he could get the man to reply with more than two words, Dexter asked, “Did you ever have any unusual passengers?”

“No.”

Dexter asked, “What’s it like being a taxi driver?”

“It’s a job.”

Giving up on getting the taxi driver to talk, Dexter stared out the window. There were cars galore on the road and no one on the sidewalks. He wondered why they even bothered to put in sidewalks if there was no one that used them.

He asked, “Why do they have sidewalks if no one uses them?”

The taxi cab driver glanced in his mirror and didn’t bother to answer. Dexter looked over at the man wondering why he wouldn’t chat at all. Lots of taxi drivers talked almost the whole trip. One or two leading questions and they were off to the races. It was just his luck to get the sullen quiet driver.

Dexter’s cell phone rang. He checked the caller id and answered, “Hello, Mark. What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Mark asked.

“I’m on my way home,” Dexter answered surprised to be asked the question.

Sounding a little exasperated, Mark said, “I’m at the hospital, to pick you up.”

“I didn’t know you were going to do that. I just called a cab and left,” Dexter said.

Mark said, “I just assumed...”

“Sorry about that,” Dexter said.

The fact was that Mark had never said anything about picking him up at the hospital. It didn’t seem reasonable to ask his attorney to start acting like a chauffeur.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” Dexter asked.

Mark answered, “Sure. We’ll hit the bank, and set up the account. I’d like to take you to lunch, afterwards.”

“All right,” Dexter said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mark said.

“Sure thing,” Dexter said.

He closed his phone and then looked over at the driver. He wished he had known that Mark intended to take him home. Mark would have been a lot better company than this driver.

When they pulled up to the apartment complex, he wondered about the tip for the driver. The driver wasn’t very friendly. On the other hand, Dexter wasn’t sure that he was supposed to be friendly although it would have been nice. His job was to drive him from one point to another and he did exactly that in reasonable time. In the end, Dexter tipped the driver the normal fifteen percent.

Dexter entered his apartment and looked around. It was exactly as he had left it the morning he had high tailed it out of town as a result of the threatening e-mail. It didn’t look like anyone had broken in. That was a great relief. He had imagined that some less honorable member of the press might have skirted the law a little.

The apartment smelled musty, as all places did after standing unoccupied for a while. The living room was a little messy and dusty, but he had left it that way. He was afraid to face the refrigerator. He couldn’t remember what he had left in it, but whatever had been left, was probably worthy of burial ... in a toxic waste dump. He decided that he’d tackle that the next day.

Although he felt like he should immediately visit the website, he just wanted to relax for a few minutes. He was still feeling weak. It was strange how he felt worse after getting his heart fixed than he had before. Of course, he was still healing.

He stripped out of his clothes and sat in his lounge chair. He was glad to get out of his clothes. Although he had worn nothing but hospital gowns during his stay at the hospital, his clothes from the day of shooting had a slight smell reminiscent of a high school locker room. He assumed that it was from running around while getting shot at. That tended to make one sweat.

His cell phone rang. Out of habit, he checked the caller id.

“Hello, Eric.”

“Hey, Dexter! How are you doing?” Eric said.

“I’m doin’ fine,” Dexter answered.

Eric said, “We just got back in town. Mark told me that you were getting released from the hospital today. Do you need a ride home?”

“I’m already at home,” Dexter said.

“Oh. Okay,” Eric said.

Dexter asked, “How did the kids like Rat World?”

“They had a good time. We only spent two days there. You got shot at the day after we arrived there. I spent that day and the next dealing with the website. Boy, that was a mess,” Eric answered.

“You should have stayed another couple of days,” Dexter said.

“I wanted to get back to see you, but I had to spend so much time taking care of the website,” Eric said apologetically.