Chapter 1 #2
She remembered that one time the cops came when she was having an argument with someone panhandling.
He kept following her and wouldn’t listen when she told him to back off.
The cops acted like she was the only one responsible.
When she got through explaining her side of the story, the beggar was gone.
But the cops weren’t. One of them tried to take her to his cruiser until she wrenched her arm free and ran down the alley and around to the back of a laundromat.
Oh…and then that other thing happened. She had somehow been able to run up a drainpipe, which clearly shouldn’t have held her weight—not that she was heavy.
And when she saw herself in a puddle on the roof, she saw a monkey.
Just for a second. Then the puddle blurred, and she saw her own face and long blonde hair again. Maybe she was losing her mind.
“Mallory, please let me take you to the ER for a quick evaluation,” he was saying. “You can call in sick or say you’re running late.”
“But what if they lock me up?”
Dante looked right at her. “Are you planning to harm yourself or anyone else?”
“Of course not!”
“Then they can’t hospitalize you against your will.”
At this point, she thought a professional opinion might be a good idea. She let out a deep sigh. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Take me to Boston General.”
* * *
After several minutes of sitting and stewing about Mallory, Dante heard his brother Noah trudging up the stairs to the second-floor apartment they rented together.
He looked like a drowned rat as he let his soggy coat drop onto the floor.
Noah was probably expecting him to say something about picking it up. Dante slumped over and said nothing.
“What’s wrong?” Noah asked.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Your hair is sticking out in all directions like you’ve been pulling it out, and you’re not annoyingly cheerful. So something is wrong. Or more wrong than usual.”
Dante sighed. “Okay, I need to talk about it, but you can’t tell anyone.”
“Who would I tell?” Noah pulled a chair over, acting like this might be something serious.
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe the whole damn family at Sunday dinner. Or the guys at your firehouse.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Dante rose and paced the length of the living room. At last, he stopped in front of Noah and asked, “Do you remember Mallory Summers?”
“Homecoming queen Mallory? Prom queen Mallory? The girl you had a massive crush on but were too chicken to ask out?”
Dante folded his arms. “Yeah, that’s the one, but I wasn’t too chicken to ask her out. I just realized she was out of my league and saved myself a humiliating rejection.”
“So now what? You bumped into her, finally asked her out, and got shot down anyway?” Noah rose and trod toward the kitchen. “Why would I tell anyone about something like that?”
“That’s not what happened. Will you just listen a minute?”
“I will, if you’ll say something worth listening to. You want a beer? I know it’s, like, ten o’clock in the morning, but you look like you could use one. I know I could. We had a bitch of a fire in a downtown clothing store last night.”
Dante plopped onto the couch. “Sorry to hear that. Getting back to Mallory… I brought her to the hospital this morning. She was hallucinating.”
“Shit! Was she on drugs?”
“No. At least she said she wasn’t and didn’t look or act like it. Like I told her, it could have been due to medical reasons. Very high blood sugar, severe depression… I had to talk her into calling in sick and letting me take her to Boston General for an evaluation.”
“Who would’ve ever thought… She seemed so put-together.” Noah continued on to the refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of Sam Adams lager.
“I know. I could hardly believe it myself.” And I’m still not sure what’s going on.
Noah returned to the living room and handed Dante one of the beer bottles. “So, what do you think caused it?”
“I don’t know. She was coherent and didn’t look depressed. But she kept saying, ‘Don’t tell my parents. I don’t want to worry them.’”
Noah shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Bro. I know you liked her. It’s really hard to watch the good ones fall. Maybe she’ll get up again.”
Dante left his beer bottle on the coffee table and paced again. He raked his hands through his shaggy dark hair. “There’s got to be something I can do.”
“You could get a haircut. Get it cut short so it won’t stick out like that.”
“Shut up. I don’t need anything for myself, just a miracle for Mallory.”
Noah dropped into the ergonomic lounge chair and put his feet up on the matching ottoman. “Sorry, Bro. I’m fresh out of miracles, and I’d steer clear of her, if I were you. It sounds like she’s batshit crazy.”
Dante’s eyes widened, then he paused as if he’d just thought of something. “Wait a minute. Maybe there is something we can do to help.”
“We? Oh no. I’m not getting involved in this. And you shouldn’t either.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me what to do, Little Brother.”
Noah snorted. “Yeah. I’m your younger brother, but I’m two inches taller than you, so I’m not your little brother and haven’t been since tenth grade.”
Dante let out an exasperated breath. “Whatever. Look, maybe if it’s a chemical imbalance problem, there might be a chemical solution.”
“What? Like an antidepressant counteracts the chemical imbalance of depression? Are you thinking she’ll be fine with some medication?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“I have a bad feeling about this. You’re as easy to read as a book. Your energy is returning, and you look excited. You have some kind of crazy idea brewing in your head.”
Dante smiled. “She might need a good friend right about now.”
Noah just laughed and shook his head at his brother. “I always knew you were the incurable optimist of the family, but I didn’t think you were completely insane.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Look, Bro. She’s not the girl you thought you knew. Obviously. You need to forget about her.”
“Why? Just because she’s hit a bump in the road?”
“That bump could be a land mine. I’m just looking out for you.”
“I don’t care what you think. I’m going to the hospital to check on her.” Dante grabbed his keys off the counter and strode to the coat closet.
Noah rose and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll go with you. Don’t be surprised if she’s already locked up in the loony bin.”
“Hey, will you cut that out?”
“Cut what out?”
“The insults. Loony bin. Batshit crazy.”
“Sorry, Bro. I just think you need to hear it the way others will see it. I know you.”
“Then you know I won’t just desert a friend in need.”
Noah picked his coat up off the floor. “Yeah, and neither will I.”
* * *
Mallory Summers sat in the hallway, just outside the ER’s nurses’ station.
There had been some kind of multicar crash and people were being brought in on stretchers.
She realized bloody victims took precedence over someone who might be seeing things that supposedly weren’t there, but she felt like she’d been waiting for-friggin’-ever.
She had given her insurance card and contact information, filled out the long-ass medical form, and twiddled her thumbs for about as long as she could stand it. When she rose to leave, a nurse popped her head up over the desk.
“We’ll be right with you, hon. Just have a seat.”
“You said that an hour ago.”
“It hasn’t been an hour, has it?” She swiveled to look at the large analog clock on the wall. “Oh, wow. It’s time for my break.”
Mallory dropped the clipboard on the desk and strode out the double doors of the waiting room.
When she heard the nurse calling after her, she sped up and finally ran outdoors.
She didn’t get far. One moment, she was looking over her shoulder, and the next, she smashed into something solid that said, “Oomph,” and grabbed her arms.
“Excuse me!”
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
She looked up into the friendly face of Dante Fierro again. He was with someone else who looked familiar. She thought it must be one of his many brothers.
“I’m…I’m going home. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Is that what they said?”
“They didn’t say anything.” She struggled to pull her arm away, but he held on tight.
His slightly taller counterpart asked, “What happened? You look upset.”
“Who are you?”
“This is my brother Noah. I just thought I’d come down and check on you. See how you were doing.”
“Well, I’m fine. The only reason I seem upset is because I sat there in the waiting room for an eon, then after they took my insurance information, they gave me a form to fill out, which took another eon, then I sat in the ER and waited for another eon.
Finally, I got sick of sitting around and left. ”
“You mean nobody actually examined you yet?” Noah asked.
“Exactly. Look. I—I need to go.”
Noah glanced at his brother, and they seemed to communicate without saying a single word. “Wait here,” Noah said, and he strode inside the hospital building.
“Dante, there’s no point in trying to intervene. There was some kind of big accident. There were a lot of people in much rougher shape than I am. In fact, I’m in perfect health. I just maybe saw someone who wasn’t there.”
“There was definitely no one there, Mallory.”
“So?”
“Are you telling me it’s no big deal?”
“No, but just sitting there wasn’t going to help. Look, I was going to tell you later, but if anyone calls you, it’s because I put you down as my emergency contact. I found your number in the phone book.”
His posture straightened. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I don’t want anyone to call my parents. All my friends know how to contact them, but you don’t.”
He hesitated a moment. “Let me give you my cell. The landline is mainly for my parents and the job.”
She listened as he recited the number and programmed it into her contacts.
“I’m not telling you what to do, but don’t you think your parents would want to know if something is really wrong?”