- Home
- Brian O'Grady
Amanda's Story Page 4
Amanda's Story Read online
Page 4
Amanda responded with a weak smile that conveyed only resignation. Lisa was a force of nature that could not be denied. The taxi stopped and Amanda followed Lisa out into the street.
“Come on,” Lisa encouraged. “The sun is out, the air is warm, and the water is blue. It’s time to live.” She practically skipped across a busy intersection with Amanda in tow. She found a spot along a rail that overlooked the Chicago River and started excitedly pointing out all the sites: Marina Towers, the Wrigley buildings, even Lake Michigan off in the distance; all the while talking a mile a minute. A large boat filled with tourists passed beneath them; Lisa began waving and elbowed Amanda into joining in. Several cameras flashed in their direction and Lisa began to pose.
On any other day a part of Amanda would have resented Lisa’s freedom, but the morning had emotionally drained her. “You’re like a little kid seeing the circus for the first time,” she said, and her smile finally conveyed something more than resignation.
“Oh look!” Lisa had spotted some restaurants sitting just above the water’s edge. “We have to go there,” she said, grabbing Amanda’s wrist and practically dragging her across the bridge. They made their way down the steps and found a table outside.
“I must be living right,” a man in his mid-twenties said, startling both ladies as they settled in. He dropped linen napkins onto their laps and boldly pulled up a chair and sat across from them. With a good deal of flourish he propped his elbows onto the table, dropped his chin into his hands, and appraised his two guests. “My name is Richard, but you can call me Ricardo.” He rolled the “R.” “I will be your waiter this afternoon, and with a single ‘yes’ I can be so much more this evening.” His eyebrows danced provocatively as he wore an exaggerated leer, waiting for their response.
Lisa’s face immediately flushed and she began to hide behind a menu.
“I can tell that you are new to our fair establishment.” He scooted his chair next to the red-faced Lisa. “Perhaps I can help you.” He reached for her menu and opened it to the first page. “We reserve the right to insult any of our customers,” he read loudly. “Of course it is only a legal disclaimer. To insult either of you would surely be a crime against nature herself.” His arm shot into the air.
“Well, Ricardo,” she said, rolling the “R” twice as long as he had. “What would you recommend for two out-of-town ladies who sadly have no escort?”
“I would recommend starting with the Oysters Rockefeller, followed by a night of aamoraa …”—it took him almost five seconds to finish his last word. He focused on Lisa, but then quickly turned to Amanda, whose mouth was agog, and winked. He leaned back into his chair, raised his eyebrows a couple of more times, turned his head slightly to the side, and resumed his leer.
Ricardo alternated his gaze between the two ladies and then decided to examine his finger nails. “You may sit here all day, basking in my aura, if you wish.” His accent was over-the-top Italian. “But I warn you, there are people here who are extremely jealous of my ways with the women.” His W’s had become V’s. “And after a minute or two of staring, they will probably start charging you.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off of his fingernails.
“Well, in that case, I believe that we will both have an iced tea,” Lisa said, as a crowd had started to gather.
“Very well,” he proclaimed loudly. “If I cannot entice you to try something tall, dark, and handsome I shall leave. But know this …” He jumped to his feet and shot an arm into the air. “One day soon I shall return, and when I do,”—his hand clutched his chest—“I shall bring you iced tea.” He took a dramatic step away and then turned back. “Think of me while I am gone, because the image of both of you has been burned into my heart.” He sauntered away to a smattering of applause.
“That was fantastic,” Lisa said, leaning toward Amanda and clasping her hand.
“It was,” Amanda answered, and despite the fact that she had enjoyed Ricardo’s performance, Lisa seemed unhappy with her response. “What?” she asked.
Lisa took a moment and her smile slowly faded to an expression of mild discomfort. “This used to be your life, sweetheart. Not long ago you probably would have ended up dancing with that guy. It breaks my heart to see you this way; it’s as if a light has gone out of the world.” Lisa dropped Amanda’s gaze and fiddled with her napkin. “I should not have said that; it was stupid of me.”
“No, you’re right, and Mindy was right. I have a choice to make. I either accept my life as it is, or I change it. Only I doubt I am going to get a modeling contract and become the mega-star she did.”
“You don’t need a modeling contract, or to be a mega-star. And for the record, I think you are far more attractive than Mindy,” Lisa said.
“Not a chance,” Amanda answered, discreetly putting her hands in front of her breasts. “I’m a couple sizes short.”
“Even still, you’re different from Mindy. She’s Raquel Welch to your Gwyneth Paltrow; she’s sexy to your elegance.”
“Elegant, huh,” Amanda smiled, and for the first time in a long time it wasn’t so difficult.
“I have returned, and I hope my absence was not too painful,” Ricardo said, twirling around the two ladies as he served the iced teas. “You must know that I live to serve. Please tell me, what can I bring you to make your life complete?” Once again he slid into the chair opposite them.
“I believe that I will get a Cobb salad,” Lisa answered, after consulting the menu.
“I would like a turkey club on wheat bread,” Amanda followed.
Ricardo stood and put a forearm over his eyes and then a fist to his mouth. “Please excuse me for a moment,” he said, in a voice choked with emotion. “Setting aside the fact that you are my first guests of the day, that is the most perfect order I have had since yesterday. I must leave now before your beauty breaks my heart.” And Ricardo was gone in a dramatic rush.
“It’s hard to have a conversation with Ricardo around,” Lisa said.
“Actually, he makes it a little easier.” Amanda sipped her tea. “What do you think about me going back to work?”
“I think it’s a big step, but one in the right direction,” Lisa said, after a pause prompted in equal parts by the sudden shift in the conversation and the sudden shift in Amanda’s attitude.
“You weren’t expecting that, were you?” Amanda said almost playfully.
“Well, after this morning … It didn’t sound like you were ready.”
“I wasn’t, but now that this interview is behind me, plus the fact that I don’t have to deal with Heather Waylens any more … it feels as if …” Amanda paused. “Mindy mentioned that there was a moment …” Amanda struggled and her face darkened, sudden and uncontrolled emotions welling up. It was almost two minutes before she continued. “Ever since the accident I have had this tiny voice in my head. It’s Jacob, and he’s saying that thing …”
“I hurt me self,” Lisa filled in, and both ladies started to tear.
“For a long time, every time I heard it in my head I just wanted to die. No matter where I was or what I was doing, if I heard his sweet little voice I …”
Lisa listened quietly.
“Michael was always the strong one. He made all the decisions; he protected me. I still wake up feeling his arms around me. Sometimes I’m not completely awake and I feel so safe, and then I remember. It’s like losing them all over again.” Her tears were falling freely now.
A painful silence, filled with loss, followed. Finally, Amanda began to dry her eyes with a napkin. “For the last week or so when I hear Jacob … it doesn’t … affect me the way it did.” She looked up into Lisa’s eyes and held them for a long moment. “I hurt me self,” she said. The tears started again but Amanda didn’t break the connection. “I think maybe this is my moment. I know I have to move on.”
Lisa smiled and silently took both of Amanda’s hands.
“I know that I’ll never be the pers
on I was, but I think I’d like to try and find her,” Amanda said while squeezing her mother-in-law’s hands.
“I’m so happy,” Lisa said quietly.
“I’m sorry for doing this here; I know you wanted to have a good time.” Amanda turned in her chair and began to look around, embarrassed by her public display. “Where is our Casanova?”
“Where were you thinking of working?” Lisa asked.
“The Lieber Institute. An old classmate called a month ago and asked if I had any interest.”
“Not a hospital?” Lisa looked confused.
“No. I think I need something different. The Lieber Institute coordinates public health at the state and international level. They also contract with the International Red Cross for disaster relief. It would mean a lot of traveling.”
“Well, I know we’ll miss having you around all the time, but it sounds like an interesting opportunity. Are they based in Colorado Springs?”
“Now comes the hard part.” Amanda paused. “They’re in Dallas.”
Ricardo swooped in and served them with a muted “Bon Appetite” as he disappeared.
“Dallas?” Lisa’s voice had dropped.
“I still don’t have all the details; I may not even have to move there. It’s possible that I could do most of it over the internet.”
“That doesn’t sound likely.” Lisa began to stir her salad aggressively. “What would you actually be doing?”
“A lot of logistics. Coordinating vaccinations in schools here in the States and in Central America.”
“That part doesn’t sound all that stimulating. Why wouldn’t they want a public health nurse for that?” Lisa answered quickly.
“They just need an RN. All the protocols are in place, and all that’s needed is someone to coordinate them. Besides, that’s just the day job. What they really want is someone willing to coordinate disaster response. I would be assigned to a team, and at first assist the senior coordinator with logistics. Sometime down the road, after I’ve gained enough experience, I would be assigned my own team.”
“Sounds like you’ve looked into this quite a bit.” Lisa’s voice dropped another notch as Amanda watched her study the Cobb salad.
“Not really. Martha, my old classmate, sent me all the promotional material. She called me just before we left to make sure that I got everything, but I put her off and promised to read it while I was here.”
“Is this what you want, Amanda?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t lived outside of Colorado for a very long time, and the prospect of moving away from you and Greg terrifies me. On the other hand, I could use a fresh start. No reminders.” Her last sentence was only a whisper. “What do you think?”
“Well, you sound excited, and you haven’t sounded excited about anything in a long time.” She looked up at Amanda and then quickly looked away “It scares me, you all alone in Dallas.” Lisa abruptly cut herself off and returned to picking out the black olives from her salad. “Who puts olives in a Cobb salad?”
“I’m not even sure it means a move. I’m not even sure this is what I want.” Amanda’s voice began to drop as she watched her mother-in-law dissect her meal. “Maybe we should talk about this later.” She retreated into her club sandwich. The two ladies sat in silence for a long uncomfortable minute, conflicting emotions left unsaid.
“No, we should talk about this now,” Lisa said suddenly. “I was being selfish. A part of me wants to tell you that this is a terrible idea, so you’ll stay with us and allow us to watch over you, but you don’t need that. You don’t need anybody.” Lisa took Amanda’s hand. “We will always be here for you, but you need to do this for yourself. If the Lieber Institute or Dallas isn’t right, then find something else that makes you feel happy.”
Amanda looked up to find Ricardo standing over Lisa, a guilty look on his face after inadvertently overhearing a part of their conversation.
“Sorry for interrupting.” Ricardo had reverted back to Richard. “I see that you are not a fan of olives,” he observed.
“Not in a Cobb salad.” Lisa smiled back at the waiter.
“Is there something else that I can bring you?” he asked Lisa. Amanda turned in response to the sudden change in persona, and he gave her a smile in return.
“No, I’m fine,” Lisa answered.
“I’m good,” Amanda said as he turned to her.
“You are so much better than good, mi amore.” Ricardo had returned. He dragged his fingertips along her bare shoulder, batted his eyebrows lasciviously, and sashayed away to another table, where he announced his presence by yelling: “What the hell do you want?”
“If disaster management doesn’t work out, maybe I could come and work here,” Amanda said as she craned her neck watching their waiter’s third persona.
CHAPTER 5
14 days later
It wasn’t unusual for Larry Ryan to work around armed men. Despite being a civilian, he still worked for the military, but to have a platoon of heavily armed soldiers—all dressed in the same isolation suits—watching his every move was unnerving.
“Have any of you ever read 1984?” No response.
“I figured,” he answered himself. “Well if we’re not going to discuss literature, can someone please tell me something about these bodies?” Two body bags, both currently occupied, lay in shallow tubs beneath bright theater lights.
“I’m sorry, Doctor, but you have already been told everything that we can tell you.” A disembodied voice answered him from a wall speaker.
“Well, Colonel, good evening. I thought you had gone and left us. Although I’m not sure where you would go,” Dr. Ryan said to himself. Medical Facility 104 was somewhere in the deserts of Nevada; at least that’s what he surmised. He had never actually seen the facility from the outside. Each time he received that very special phone call or tap on the shoulder that told him that he had 30 minutes to drop what he was doing and disappear for the next several days, it had been at night. Then, just to be absolutely certain, he was flown in a plane without windows that taxied directly into the facility—a facility that as far as he knew consisted only of a single changing room, a single small bedroom, a single pathology laboratory, and a single autopsy room. Even his meals had been brought to him.
“While I appreciate the need for secrecy and security, don’t you think you’re taking it a little too far? I am seventy-one years old and walk with a cane, and I’m sure neither of these two fellows is going anywhere.”
He unzipped the first bag and recoiled. “Okay, seriously, what the hell is this?” The body was a putrid, liquefied mess, and any jocularity Ryan had had was lost.
“Colonel, I’m going to need a good deal more information before I do anything, and that is non-negotiable.” He was the former Chairman of Forensic Pathology at the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology, which carried a civilian rank equal to a two-star general and a security clearance beyond Top-Secret. Those facts alone should have insulated him from taking orders from a mere colonel and working in the dark, especially in a situation as unusual as this. He adjusted the overhead light and examined what was left of the face closely and then zipped the bag closed.
“Did you hear me, Colonel?” He walked to the far corner of the autopsy theater and looked up into the observation room above. Colonel Nerring had his back to the glass and a phone to his ear. Ryan pulled up a rolling stool and carefully sat down. He was recovering from hip surgery, and the last thing he needed was to fall in this cumbersome and slippery isolation suit.
“I charge by the hour,” he said after several minutes.
“Doctor,” Colonel Nerring’s voice finally echoed through the sterile room. “General Kane has asked me to relay a message. He would view this as a personal favor if you could examine the bodies, take tissue samples, and determine cause of death without any more information that could possibly color your findings. Once you are done he will perso
nally answer any questions that you may have.”
Ryan pondered this for a moment and then stood. “Two things. First, he’s going to owe me a case of double malt scotch, and second, I need an honest answer from you. What is the risk?”
“Extreme,” Nerring answered immediately.
“At least you’re being honest. I suppose that’s why I have no lab assistants?” He walked to the second body and unzipped the bag completely. The condition of this corpse was only slightly better than the first. “I’m going to leave them in the bags for now. This will reduce the possibility of contamination. He pulled an overhanging microphone close, dictated his name and date, and then began to work.
It took him nearly two hours to finish with the first body, but less than an hour with the second. He zipped what was left of the two men back into the black bags, which would serve as the only coffins they would ever know. “Okay, fellas, let’s go,” he said to the platoon of soldiers who had silently watched him dissect two bodies. He opened the door to the airlock and began the cumbersome process of extricating himself from the contaminated isolation suit.
He emerged into the cool air of the control room to find both Colonel Nerring and one of his oldest friends, Major General Ralph Kane. Ryan nodded to his friend and said, “I need a drink.”
“Come with me; I know just the place,” Kane said. He led them through a maze of corridors, none of which Ryan had never seen.
“So Ralph, can you confirm or deny the existence of Area 51, because by my reckoning this could be the very place.” Ryan hobbled after the two soldiers, who had politely matched his speed.
“Come on Larry, you know that if I told you the truth Colonel Nerring would shoot us both. Isn’t that right, Colonel?” Kane had led the trio into a small conference room.
“Without hesitation, sir.” Nerring retrieved three plastic bottles of water from a small refrigerator and passed them to the two older men.
“Not the drink I had in mind, but for now it will do.” Ryan took a quick gulp and turned to Kane. “Okay, I did what you asked, now fill me in. Something nasty happened to those two poor bastards.”