North on I-35 [Index of Writers and their contributions]
Third section by Jane MacDonald
| North of Monterrey, in the green foothills of the Sierra Madre Oriental,
Pedro Jimenez sat at a small marble table on his patio sipping lemonade.
His three visitors, dressed for business in the city, awaited his decision.
"If he talks, we're in trouble." Pedro set his glass down and stared across the valley. Then he made up his mind. "I'd really appreciate your taking care of the situation. He's in a hospital in San Antonio--Miguel will give you the details." "It's done." One of the visitors, a short, rotund man with a neat black moustache, abruptly stood. "You're still with us on the new casino in Nuevo Laredo, right?" Pedro smiled. "Of course. This is just a minor setback." A few minutes after the men had gone, Miguel Martinez came through the French doors behind Pedro, ambled over to the table and sat down. "I gave 'em the dope. No problem, huh? " "None at all. The little guy has contacts all over Texas. Something awkward will happen, and Jason won't be around to bother us. Pity--he was useful." "Fucking gringo. Thought he had it made, and then screwed up. Plenty more like him around, and maybe they'll be a little more careful." * * * All April knew was that her man was hurt. KJBZ-93 told her about the accident, and she took off for San Antonio within half an hour. Amber sat on a bench in the hospital waiting room while April tried to get past the bulldog at the desk. "No, we're not married, but that's his kid over there," she said, nodding toward Amber. "He'll want to see me, that's for sure." "No visitors except for family." The man, his gray hair combed over in a doomed attempt to hide his baldness, turned back to the form he was filling out. "I'm the only family he's got," April said. She could feel the tears begin to rise. The clerk looked up. "All right. I can tell you this: he's going to recover, and there's a cop outside his door." "Can't you get me up to see him? Please?" "I doubt it." He picked up an old-fashioned black telephone and punched in numbers. "Woman wants to see your new patient. Any chance?" He listened a moment and hung up the phone. "He's in the operating room. If you want to hang around, you might be able to get in when he comes out and wakes up, but that'll be a while." He kept his official expression, but April thought she saw a softening. "Best I can do." "Thank you. I'm going to take my little girl and get something to eat. We'll be back in half an hour." Towing Amber through the big glass doors, April bumped into a tall blond man wearing a Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt. "I'm sorry," she said, trying to smile. "Forget it. I'm seeing a patient, too." |
This is part 3 of a story
written by a 'committee' - writers from the Writing Workshop.
It will be gradually added to as each new section appears.
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