Con Sampler

Chapter 1 – Manic Monday

Chapter 1 – Manic Monday

Monday Morning, June 9th, 2014

“Dana, I’m sorry but it just isn’t good. You have severe muscle and nerve damage from the shooting. I expected the muscle damage to heal over time and it has been these past few weeks, but the nerve stuff is a different animal. Do you remember what we talked about?”

I stared at Dr. Welle, my orthopedic surgeon, and shuddered at what she was implying. “You said I might never regain all feeling and muscle control.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “There was only a slim chance that you’d come out of your original injury with total unhindered mobility. I expected then, at best, that you would be unable to fully flex your knee and that you might walk with a slight limp. This newest incident has done so much more damage...”

She popped more images from the latest MRI of my leg up on the light box and began pointing out things that concerned her. I zoned out and flashed back to Saturday, the day that was very likely going to ruin the rest of my career with the U.S. Customs and Border Protection Service.

My mind went back to Saturday morning.

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... Jones reached out and grabbed me by the hand and pulled me out of the bathroom. My bad leg collapsed, and I tumbled to the floor and out of his grip. The last thing I remember, before waking up in this God forsaken hospital again, was McClarnan’s foot coming at my face.

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“Earth to Dana!”

“Oh, I’m sorry doc! You were saying?”

“I’m saying that you can be released today but that you’re going to need to keep weight off of this leg for the next eight to twelve weeks, at a minimum. You can keep your crutches if you promise to always use them or I can put you in a wheelchair; your choice. Those muscles have to have time to recover.”

“Two or three months?” I was in shock.

“Minimum; and frankly, the nerve damage is so extensive now that I’m sorry to say that your mobility is always going to be hindered. It isn’t a question of maybe or possibly anymore. I don’t like to be the bearer of bad news, but there it is.”

I nodded my understanding...another career for me shot to hell, literally.

“I’m putting you off work for the rest of this week and no rehab. In fact, no rehab work for at least the next couple of weeks and you’ll need to schedule a follow-up with me for next Monday.”

Yep, shot to hell.

###

“Do you want to stop somewhere for lunch before we head out of town?” Mel waited for my response. She was driving my own car since it was easier for me to maneuver in and out of it with a bum leg and crutches than it was for me to get in and out of her pickup truck.

I couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. I was still trying to get my head wrapped around what my injuries would likely mean for my career and what, if anything, I’d want to do or even be able to do next.

“Dana?”

“Hmm?” I looked at her.

“Look, I know you’ve got a lot on your mind. If you want to talk, I’m here for you – no pressure. Right now, while you’re trying to think things through, you have to take care of yourself. For one thing, you need to eat. I know you probably skipped the hospital breakfast...”

“Yeah, you’re right. I did. I’m just not hungry right now.”

“Well I am, and I know just the place that might help you to change your mind.”

“Mel, I look a fright. I really don’t want to be out in public right now.” She glanced over at me and I saw the tenderness in her eyes.

“Relax. This place will work out just fine.”

A few minutes later we pulled up near a low, non-descript building situated on a river bank. “What’s this place?”

“It’s Muddy Misers, a Zanesville landmark. We’re early yet, we should be able to get one of the tables behind the building, outside along the river, where we can just relax and soak in a little sun.” I nodded. That didn’t sound too bad.

We trooped behind a college aged server named Bree through a darkened tavern style restaurant to a small patio. Mel chose the table for us that was furthest from the door and then ordered two locally made brews before I could even lean my crutches against the railing and take a seat.

“I probably shouldn’t be drinking with the pain meds...”

“Did you actually take them?”

“Well, no...”

“Then a beer will probably do you some good. It’ll help you relax.”

“We’ve known each other less than two months but you already know what buttons to push!”

“I’m a cop, a trained observer.” She grinned with that smile that wowed me the first time I met her, what seemed like eons ago.

“As am I, but I really don’t seem to know a lot about you.”

“You know more than you think...”

We were interrupted by Bree, the little slip of a blonde server, who was already back with our drinks. “Are you ready to order?”

I hadn’t even picked up the menu. I looked at Mel, “Since you’re so smart, just order me what you think I’ll like.” I was being a smartass, but she wasn’t fazed. She placed an order for some sort of house specialty and then the blonde girl was gone leaving us to each other.

“The place isn’t much to look at, but the food is good, and the beer is cold.”

I took a sip. “Mmm, it’s not only cold it’s actually pretty good too.”

“They brew it right here with water from the Muskingum.” She jerked her head sideways toward the river.

I sputtered and coughed. Mel’s eyes shone with laughter.

“That isn’t funny!”

“Two can play your little game Ms. Dana!”

I shook my head at her, “Touché.” I wasn’t done with her. I reached out and pulled her beer toward me. “I get this one too. You’re driving!” It was my turn to grin.

She pulled it right back. “I’m only having one and I’m eating. If you think I’m impaired after we eat what we’re about to consume, then you go ahead and make a citizen’s arrest!”

I laughed, “Don’t tempt me!” I leaned back and gazed out at the river. It was a deep shade of tan and running pretty fast. “Why do they call this place Muddy Misers? Is it because the river is so muddy looking?”

“Naw.” Mel shook her head and laughed. “It was actually named after a long ago local who was called that. The river’s muddy now but that’s just from all the spring runoff. You were laid up in the hospital for most of the rainy season here. The water will clear up as we get further into June.” She stared at me with an odd expression but said nothing else.

I looked back at her, “I hate small talk, but I hate awkward silence even more...”

She smiled again. “What would you like to talk about then?”

I shrugged and blew out a breath, “I don’t know. I don’t even know where to begin...”

“How about we just chill out right now and save the heavy stuff for after lunch?” She smiled, “Deal?”

“Deal!”

We spent the next hour enjoying some amazing steaks and talking about silly stuff. Things were actually starting to feel a little bit better for me and to, just maybe, look up.