For Joseph Beck, this day should have been one of those perfect days that every man dreamed about. He woke a minute before the alarm clock began screaming at him and he turned it off. He stretched, a perfect stretch, the kind that pulls your muscles and pops your joint to the point of almost hurting but felt more like ecstasy.
April was already up, toweling her hair dry as she leaned in front of the bathroom mirror. She greeted him with a kiss and a smile, despite his unruly hair and morning breath. He smiled back as he turned on the shower for himself, adding more steam to the already cloudy bathroom.
The water soothed and refreshed him as it always did and he watched the distorted figure of his wife dress through the bathroom door. Seven long, fun years, he thought as he watched his wife. He couldn't have asked for anything better. Except maybe children, he thought, If only she could have children, that might make things perfect. He closed his eyes and let the steaming water wash the drowsiness from his face.
April having children wasn't the problem, they'd been approved for adoption already, so they could add another member to their little family at any time, but they were patient, and were not rushing into anything too fast. Nursing took the majority of April's time and she wasn't quite ready to give it up. Yes, she was being a little selfish, but she loved her job too much right now, and it was still a new and exciting adventure.
Joe turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, he could hear April in the kitchen moving pots around to start breakfast. Joe shaved his weekend stubble and brushed his teeth, ridding his mouth of his morning breath. There was plenty of time before he had to report for work, so he dressed slowly, enjoying the sounds of the morning. Early traffic had already began to gather for the race to whatever job might lay ahead for the poor souls who had to navigate the highways, and a siren echoed on the street as an ambulance sped toward an emergency of some kind. Joe enjoyed the sounds of the city.
He pulled on his boots and buckled his belt and holster around his waist as April called for breakfast. He walked down the hall of his small home and into the kitchen where the smell of bacon overpowered that of all other smells. April was a streak of teal nursing scrubs, bounding back and forth between the eggs and setting the table. Joe grabbed a carton of orange juice and poured them each a glass as they sat down to eat.
"Pick you up some pizza on the way home tonight?" She asked, taking a bite of eggs as she watched him add some catsup to his. She hated the looked of eggs with catsup, and hated it even more as he scooped them into his mouth. "You know, if you'd seen the things I've seen in the ER, you'd think twice about shoveling that mess into your mouth."
"Brains, brains, I need my brains," he chanted with his mouth full.
"Your sick," she returned, fainting disgust. Joe laughed and eventually April joined in, but only halfheartedly. His morning meal reminded her all too much of a motorcycle accident victim she'd help treat the week before. The cyclist hadn't been wearing a helmet and his skull looked not unlike the mass of goo in Joe's plate. She pushed her plate away, only half finished.
"So. Why pizza tonight? Where are you going to be?"
"They made the mistake of scheduling Denise and Mary off on the same shift, so the night crew is short handed. I have the pleasure of working a double to cover for them."
"I wish you would have told me last night and I wouldn't have kept you up so late."
She got up and crossed to his side of the table. He scooted back and she sat down on his lap, put her arms around him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "But I enjoyed it sooo much." She bit him on the ear as he tickled her, making her jump up out of his lap, screaming and laughing at the same time. He kept poking her in the stomach and goosing her rib cage as she back peddled out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Stop it, stop it!" She was laughing so hard now her mascara was streaking down her cheeks with her tears. He flung her onto the couch and lay on top of her, pinning her arms beside her. "Don't you dare," she said.
"But it's so much fun torturing you." He kissed her neck, making goose bumps rise all over her body. They finally stopped giggling and lay there together, wrapped around each other.
"I've really got to get going," she said, pushing him off of her and rubbing her hip where his holster had dug into her side. She tried to get up and he held her hand and pulled her back down where he could kiss her.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too. Now, we've both got to get to work." She pulled him off the couch and went to straiten the little makeup that she wore. "You want me to drop you off at the bank?"
"Sure, I'll catch the bus home tonight."
Joe went to the bureau by the front door, unlocked the drawer and pulled out his Glock 9mm. To this day, he had never had to pull his gun on anything but paper targets. But that would all change before the day was over.
Joseph slammed the door to April's blue Accord and waved good-bye in answer to her blowing a kiss. She pulled back into traffic and quickly became just another car in a sea of cars. He turned and looked up and the high rise building and wondered for the hundredth time how man could have made such a behemoth. It stood over ninety stories and Joe wondered for the briefest second why he had never ventured beyond the ground floors and the basements. Was it because he was afraid of heights? Yes, mostly, he thought. He looked up at the clouds passing swiftly over the building and felt a slight wave of nausea creep over him. The way the clouds moved over the glass surface of the building magnified the dizziness. Why do I subject myself to this every morning? Its not like standing here looking up will help with my fear of going up there and looking down.
He shook his head and headed on in to the building. The front door opened into a huge entryway with a fountain behind the main desk.
"I'm sure glad you made it," Chris Miller said, rising with a stretch and a yawn from behind the desk. "I would have given it another five minutes before I actually fell asleep."
Joe doubted that. Once 6:30 a.m. hit, the lobby was a beehive full of people buzzing this way and that and Miller would have not had the time to sit and doze. Miller fiddled with the lock to the safe and stowed his gun away inside. Unlike Joe, Chris wasn't licensed to carry his weapon in public.
When Joe applied and won this job, he decided he would go all the way. He owned his own gun and was licensed to carry it almost anywhere, either in his holster on his hip or in the shoulder harness where he kept in hidden under his arm. He even had a private investigators license that he renewed every year but didn't bother to practice. He had forgotten almost everything he had learned in police academy and had no desire to pursue that venue either. He liked the no-hurry-take-it-easy- just-give-directions job of being a security officer. Watch the surveillance cameras. Make sure no bad eliminates decide to wonder in off the street and disturb the peace and tranquillity of the building. If they aren't wearing suits and dresses or are a part of maintenance then they don't belong here.
Those were his instructions when he took this job.
Most days were just filled with endless hello's and how-do-you- do's, and that was just fine and dandy with Joe. For fifteen dollars an hour, Joe couldn't ask for any better. Joe considered himself somewhat lazy and he was just lucky enough to stumble on a lazy man's job.
"Anything exciting happen?"
Miller covered another yawn with his hand, "just a couple of kids taking a leak on the bushes." He gestured to the small courtyard out the front were a few trees and bushes grew. "Now, it's time for me to go hit the hay." Miller punched in his security code in the small computer built into the desk and logged out.
Joe came around the back of the desk and logged his number on as soon as Miller was out of the way. "See ya in twelve," Joe called to Millers back as he walked out the front of the building. The only bad thing about this job was the twelve hour shifts. He had two twenty minute breaks and a forty-five minute lunch break which allowed him just enough time to hit the convenience store a block down or the diner a block farther. The shifts were from ten to ten. Odd hours, he had always thought, but at least he could sleep in every morning when the rest of the world was having to start working at eight. And getting off at ten didn't bother him much either since he was a night owl.
The day went on smooth as ever, with nothing more exciting than the regular "hello's" and "how-do-you-do's".
His first break came at two and Ralph came down from the upper floors to relieve him for his breaks and lunch.
Ralph was an odd sort of fellow. His coke bottle glasses magnified his piercing blue eyes to the extent of almost being bug-like. He was a young guy, about twenty-one or so, and quiet. Joe had long since given up trying to start a conversation with him. In fact, Joe didn't even know the kids last name.
Joe watched him disembark from the elevator and stroll unhurriedly to the security desk. "And how are we today?" he asked as he logged out of the computer and Ralph logged in, not realizing how much sarcasm he had put into the question.
"Fine." Short, simple and sweet. Blunt and to the point too, Joe thought. Unfriendly too.
"Need anything while I'm out?"
And what is the answer ladies and gentlemen?
"No."
Correct answer! Joe left, snickering under his breath.
The convenience store was like most every other store across the country. You've got your drink cooling to the back, the beer on the left, and shelves stretched through the center. The counter was by the door on the left as you entered and like most in the city, was completely inclosed by bullet proof glass. A hole in the glass allowed the clerk to make change. Funny, Joe thought every time he saw the counter and the bullet proof glass, that they would put a gaping hole there big enough to put an uzi through...its a concept he never could quite understand.
"Hey, Joe." Amy Jellum was behind the counter, waving.
"What's up, Amy?" She had a nursing book in her lap. Amy was a nursing student who was working to pay her way through her schooling. Joe didn't see how she did it. Most nursing students didn't have the time to work and study, but Amy pulled it off where very few others could. One factor in her favor was her photographic memory. Amy had come to April in the past for tutoring but soon found out that she really didn't need it. In fact, April used Amy to keep up her own studies as she furthered her nursing career. The two of them had become best of friends despite their age difference. Joe liked her too.
"Just studying."
Joe walked to the back and grabbed a cold soda and a bottled water to take back to work. Amy jumped off her stool and stretched.
"You going to come by this way after work?"
Joe counted out his change and slid it through the hole in the glass. "I can, whatcha need."
"Billy's got me working two shifts tonight and I was hoping you'd walk me to the bus stop. I hate working nights here, all the creeps seem to come downtown and hang out in the alley."
"Double shift, huh?"
"Yah."
"There's a lot of that going of today. April has to work an extra shift too. But sure, I'll come by." He got off at ten, Amy at eleven. That meant another hour to waste before he could go home. She'd probably want him to see her all the way home too.
"Would you mind seeing me home, too?"
She's reading my mind, he thought.
"Sure."
"You sure you don't mind."
Well, actually, I do mind, was what he thought, but it came out, "No, I don't mind at all." Sucker! All it takes is a nice smile and a pair or breasts and I'll do anything. "See ya a little after ten." I can't believe I just thought that. "Thanks, Joe."
Joe left and flew through the remainder of the day.
"Anything exciting happen while I was away?"
"Ralph and I had a stimulating conversation over lunch." Joe smirked, falling into the routine of the daily joke between him and Chris.
"No? How many words?"
Joe held up three fingers, suppressing his need to laugh.
"Damn, Joe. I can't get anything but grunts and uh-huh's out of him. How'd you do it?"
"Charm and personality, Chris. Charm and personality. I think he likes me too."
The elevator door beeped and slid open and out walked non other than Ralph...the perfect end to a perfect joke. Joe and Chris could contain their laughter no longer and both men nearly hit the floor as they laughed. Ralph never looked back.
"I've got to get out of here," Joe said, logging off the computer. He was still laughing when he walked out into the night.
Joe pulled the door to the convenience store open and the whole world suddenly went into slow motion. He heard the hiss of the hydraulic arm on the door as he pulled and it seemed to last forever. The cold aircoditioned air tickled across his face and forearms as his eye finally seemed to catch what was wrong in front of him.
There was a man standing there at the window in front of Amy's window. He was tall and had a long, oily black trench coat that stood motionless on his shoulders. His matching hair hung down from under the stocking that distorted his facial features. He was yelling something through the glass at Amy, but Joe couldn't make out the words. The sounds he was hearing stretched and twisted together and didn't even seem to correlate with the movements of the man's mouth.
The man turned to look at Joe for the first time and even through the stocking covering the man's face, he could see the obvious fear and panic that sprung there like a sudden, rushing flood. The man yelled something at him, but he couldn't hear the words, only the insistent, pounding cadence of his heart. The man yelled again pointing his free hand at the ground in front of Joe.
Joe didn't move, but stood speechless in the doorway as it crept shut against his back. The moment it touched him, it seemed to jolt him out of his revere. A snap seemed to go off in his head and everything was suddenly, frighteningly clear.
"DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME? I TOLD YOU TO GET ON THE FLOOR! NOW!" Suddenly, Joe realized what the man was holding in his right hand. The man was holding Amy at gun point through the hole in the glass of her booth. It was a sawed off shotgun with a pistol grip. Joe saw it as the man pulled it from the booth and began to turn to bear it on Joe.
"Okay, man, okay," Joe said. In a split second, Joe dropped to one knee, and brought his hand up against his holster. As his wrist passed the safety strap, he issued just enough pressure to undo the snap, and as his palm passed the guns grip, he closed his hand around it and pulled it up, out and in front of him. He did it with lightning speed, just like out of an old western shoot out. If Joe wouldn't have been so scared he would have been proud of his efforts. But these efforts weren't quite enough.
The man froze, his arm stretched out halfway between Amy and Joe, but aimed at neither.
"Okay. Now, drop the shotgun." Joe couldn't understand why his voice sounded so normal. He brought up his left hand and gripped the bottom of the gun to steady it and release the safety. He was aiming at the man's forehead and he for an instant he wondered what his 9mm hollow points would do to the man's skull.
The man stood still, frozen in place, and Joe could see the questions that were going across the man's mind. Can I take him? Do I give up? Can I run? He can't shoot if I throw down the gun, can he?
Take him down! You've already gone too far with this!
Joe saw this massage just as clearly as he'd seen the questions and knew that things were about to get messy.
"Don't do..."
His voice trailed off, too late. The man's face contorted to rage under the stocking, and his mouth was open in a silent scream of anger as he brought the shotgun around further to train it on Joe. And for the second time that night, the world for Joe Beck seemed to all but stop; and it would only happen again on one other, future occasion.
Joe saw the shotgun, swinging toward him, slowly, like watching the hands of a clock. His finger twitched on the trigger and he felt like he had to use all his physical power to pull the trigger. His arm felt cramped from the effort of holding the gun up, like he had been holding it in the same position for hours instead of minutes. Somebody's car alarm sounded outside, and thunder echoed in the distance.
But it wasn't thunder, was it? And the car alarm? It wasn't a car alarm, but the stores burglar alarm.
Amy was crouched over him, tears streaming down her face as he spoke to him..."Hold on Joe, just hold on." Joe wondered why she kept on and on like a skipping CD. Why was everything spinning? And why was the only thing he could see was the end of his Glock flaring fire and the sudden shock exploding across the stocking mans face as the back of his head erupted across the booth and shelves behind him? That sight would replay over and over again over the course of the next twenty-four hours. What had he just done? What is wrong with me and why does the room keep spinning like that?
Joe was relieved when he sunk down into the deep blackness of sleep. The darkness of unconsciousness wrapped around him like the waters of a hot bath, moist and relaxing. Was it wrong to sleep at a time like this? he wondered. Is this being selfish, to relax like this in the midst of a crisis? Crisis? What crisis? I'm just tired and I've earned the right to be a little selfish. Earned it. Earned it. Earned it...
As Joe lay unconscious and justifying in his mind his earned right to be selfish, Amy Jellum looked down on him with rising panic. She was studying nursing but had only really just begun and she didn't know how to help Joe. She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself. That helps. Just settle down, settle down. Now. What to do?
She knew what to do...she had to stop the bleeding! Amy looked at Joe's ruined shoulder and did the only thing she knew to do at that moment. She removed her T-shirt and wrapped it tightly around his upper arm and shoulder then pressed against it. She could hear police sirens outside and they were getting closer.
Joe moaned under the pressure of her hand. He opened his eyes a little and focused in on Amy.
"Hi, Amy. What are you doing here?" His voice was weak and far away.
"Your going to be just fine, Joe. Just hang in there, all right? Joe? Joe?" His eyes were closed again and Amy felt for an instant that he was dead. His chest was still moving up and down. Thank God, he's still alive.
The patrol cars skidded to a halt outside. Amy noticed the store alarm blaring for the first time as a police man jerked open the door, gun in hand but pointed at the ceiling. She heard the alarm, but it didn't register until the following day that she wasn't the one who tripped it.
April Beck strolled through the hallway of the emergency room, trying to look busy on an otherwise slow evening. She was one of five nurses assigned to critical trauma team, and so far there had been nothing too serious come in. She was on her way now to the nurses lounge to rest. Her body was finally feeling the effects of her double shift and she had to get at least an hour or so of rest if she was going to make it through the worst part of the night.
The nurses lounge was empty and she used the dimmer switch to reduce the light in the room. She laid down on the couch and closed her eyes...the time was 9:45 at night and April would receive almost two hours of much needed sleep before she would be awakened.
April was roused from her sleep to a bee hive of activity. There was an emergency going on out in the halls and she looked at her beeper, wondering why she hadn't been paged. She sat up on the couch, shaking her head to clear the sleep. She stepped out into the hall into craziness. Other nurses and candy stripers rushed back and forth on some errand or other. April smiled and greeted a couple she knew but they kept moving, ignoring her comments.
What's going on here?
She hurried down the hall toward the emergency room, bypassing the nurses station.
"April! April, stop!" Clarise rushed her bulk around the nursing station and caught up with April before she could go through the double doors and into the ER.
Clarise was a large woman, black as the night and about the friendliest woman April could ever remember meeting. She stopped and turned to see what Clarise wanted. She was greeted by a large set of white teeth behind the most God awful false smile she had ever seen.
"What the hell is going on around here?" she asked the big nurse.
Clarise's smile wiped itself away when she realized that she couldn't fool April. Her eyes filled with worry for the nurse everyone adored so much. She looked up into April's large green eyes and took a deep breath to tell her the bad new.
But April was no longer paying any attention to Clarise. She had her eyes locked on something behind her. Clarise turned to looked and saw the blood soaked girl who had come in with Joe and the ambulance.
April rushed down the hall and took Amy in her arms, hugging her and asking her if she was all right.
"April, I'm all right, I'm not hurt." But she was crying profusely. Tears flooded from her eyes, smearing her mascara down her cheeks like long black spikes. April noticed that she was wearing nothing but her bra and jeans and her skin was flaking with dried, crusty blood. "It's Joe, April. He's been hurt bad."
"Oh God, no. No!" April wheeled around and flew toward the swinging doors into the ER, but Clarise was there to cut her off.
"I can't let you go in there." April tried to jerk away, but Clarise held on tight. "April, listen to me. April!" She was having to shout now, but April finally looked away from the ER and settled her gaze on Clarise. "There's nothing to do but get in the way in there. Your not being professional right now because its personal. Now just stay out of the way and let Dr. Waters save your husbands life."
"No! Let me see him! Now!" She struggled against Clarise's grip to no avail. "Let go of me!" Amy helped Clarise with her struggle against the upset nurse, and together they pulled her down the hall and back into the nurses lounge. They put here back on the couch and Clarise sat next to her, holding her tight as she told Amy to step into the adjacent bathroom and get cleaned up.
"There's some spare scrubs in the bureau in the corner, put them on and trash those," she said, pointing at Amy's blood stained jeans and bra.
April was crying now and seemed to be over her initial shock and display of hysterics. She held her head in her hands and pushed her tears between her fingers.
Amy came out of the bathroom and threw her clothes in the waste basket. She crossed to the bureau and donned a pair of teal nursing scrubs then sat down on the opposite side of April.
"April, honey? I'm going to go see if I can find anything out for you, O.K.? Now you just stay here and I'll be right back."
To April it seemed that Clarise was gone for a long, long time. It was actually over an hour, but seemed more like the entire evening was through. It was time to clock out, go home, and forget anything bad had happened. April looked up at the clock. It was one-thirty in the morning, not time to go home, and there was no way she could ever forget the questions that rolled through her mind.
The door opened and both women looked up expectantly. Clarise glided through the door on graceful feet that you wouldn't expect from a large woman. She smiled as she sat back down with Amy and April.
"Everything's going to be all right, honey. Joe's doing just fine."
In the time Clarise was gone, Amy had told April about what had happened. Now, April released a sigh of relief. "Can I see him?"
"Not just yet. Dr. Waters is still sewing him up. He'll be out of surgery within the next hour, then you can see him." She turned her focus on Amy then. "The police were looking for you. Said you were supposed to give them a statement or something."
Amy jumped up. "Oh, my God. I completely forgot. They probably think I've skipped town ." And with that she was out the door and into the hall.
Clarise looked April over real good and saw that she was back to some version of normal, whatever normal is. "I've got some charts that need to be run upstairs. Think your up for the job."
April looked up at her, eyes bloodshot and cloudy. She thought that she would be more than happy to have something to do. She followed her to the nurses station, got the charts, and busied herself for the next hour.
Joe sat looking out at the glowing city and wondered where April was, just as the door opened and she walked in. Dr. Waters was close behind. She stopped a couple of feet away, taking the sight of him in as he did likewise. He thought she had never looked more beautiful that this moment and she thought that he looked like a wounded puppy who needed her love and attention. She smiled at him and took his right hand, rubbing it gently with both of hers. Fresh tears strolled leisurely down her face.
Joe's shoulder was tightly wrapped with bandages and gauze and a small strip of gauze was also taped to the side of his neck. The shoulder wound was beginning to seep again.
"Can I take care of this?" April asked, pointing out the red stained bandages. Dr. Waters nodded and moved to the bed to help.
"Just a warning though, April. It looks pretty bad."
She knew and nodded her head.
The two of them maneuvered Joe onto his right side and April began to unwrap the binding. It was worse than she had thought it would be. His shoulder was completely mangled and patched with stitches. Most of the skin had been stretched tight over the holes that the shotgun had blown away. Several scars were seeping blood from in between the stitches and April carefully wiped the blood away.
"How extensive is the damage?" she asked the doctor.
"Most of his collar bone and some of the humerous is shattered, and there was extensive damage to the joint and muscles. I had to mesh most of the bone fragments together to heal. Lots of skin lacerations, as you can tell...he's probably got a million stitches in there. There is a majority of cuts and lacerations up and down his back and legs when he fell through the door. He's pretty beat up and that arm is going to take some extra therapy. But I don't see why he can't recover one hundred percent. That shoulder will definitely let him know when the weather starts to change." Dr. Waters laughed at his lame attempt at humor as if it were the best joke he'd ever heard. Joe didn't like him, and April only liked his professionalism, not his personality.
"What about this?" April asked, brushing her fingers lightly over the bandage on Joe's neck.
"That," the doctor said, pausing for effect, "is the proof that if that gun would have swung around any further, our Joe wouldn't have needed all that surgery last night."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, that is a scar from the 12 gauge 6 shot pellets that fired from that boys modified shotgun. Joe there caught the left most portion of the spread. Another inch and that pellet, and probably several more, would have done more damage than could be repaired. Your husband is a very lucky man..."
