Chapter Twenty-Six

The heaviness of Lyle’s eyes finally gave way and he opened them slowly, revealing the room as a blur, making him feel almost like he was underwater.  His pounding head still rested on the terra cotta floor tiles, and the pain in his right shoulder screamed to his jarred brain that it was dislocated, which was a message he recognized because he’d heard it a few times before.  One of those times was when he was charged by a bitchy red angus cow that bounced him off the corral fence and onto the ground.  Another was when he ran a four-wheeler into a black walnut tree after downing a case of cheap beer and challenging one of his buddies to a race. 

Within the blur he could see the pulsing strobe of red and blue through the front door and plate glass windows of the restaurant and what looked to be a crowd of people who had gathered out on the sidewalk.  He rubbed his eyes and forehead with the palm of his hand, finally struggling his way into a sitting position.  As his vision came into focus he made out Maricruz holding Rick’s hand, but Rick wasn’t moving and he was being loaded onto a gurney by a couple of EMT’s in navy blue uniforms.  It looked like Maricruz was sobbing as she talked to Rick, who did not respond.  Father Carl stood with his arm around Maricruz.

Lyle wanted to yell out to Maricruz to ask if Rick was okay, but he couldn’t quite get the words out.  He tried to push himself up off the floor and then to pull himself up using a chair, but he couldn’t manage it.  Although he couldn’t remember it hitting, he must have really bounced his head off the floor.  He looked over in the other direction to see DB lying in a puddle of his own blood with someone taking pictures of the body.

On the other side of the dining room a female police officer questioned Amanda, who was sitting in a booth across from the officer.  The officer wrote down notes on a spiral notepad as Amanda talked.  When Amanda looked over at Lyle and their eyes met, Amanda ran over from the booth to Lyle, where she dropped down on her knees next to him.  The cop started to get up to follow after Amanda but when she realized she wasn’t going any farther than to check on Lyle, she stayed where she was and started writing again.

“I thought you were dead when that gun went off, Lyle,” Amanda said as she hugged him awkwardly.  “That asshole DB finally got what was coming to him, didn’t he?  But your professor friend didn’t deserve to get shot like he did.  If it wasn’t for him I’d be dead for sure.”

“Is Rick going to be okay?” Lyle asked watching through the windows as the ambulance carrying Rick sped off in the direction of Pueblo.  Father Carl stayed outside to talk to the crowd of people as Maricruz, wiping tears from her eyes, walked back through the door toward Lyle and Amanda.  Lyle turned to look at Maricruz.  “Is he going to make it?” 

“I don’t know, Lyle.  I don’t know,” Maricruz answered, shaking her head, her eyes welling with tears again.  “He’s in really bad shape.  He’s lost a lot of blood.  Once they checked your pulse and felt it was fine and felt DB’s and there was nothing, they had to spend all their time on Rick trying to save him.”

“Did they say he’d survive?” Lyle asked, afraid of the answer.

“It’s going to be touch and go, Baby.  I really don’t know.  It looked like the bullet got him in the stomach.  It’s not good.”

“Oh God, Mari.  Did somebody call Jacqueline?” Lyle asked.

“Yeah, the police called her,” Maricruz answered.  “They said she was hysterical.  I would be too.   I mean, I was hysterical too.  I’ve never seen anything like that.  Rick didn’t deserve that.  He got caught up in our business.  The cop said Jacqueline and the boys are going to meet the ambulance at the hospital.” 

“What about your dad?” Lyle wondered.

Maricruz pointed toward the back of the restaurant.  “He showed up a few minutes after it all went down.  He started crying when he saw what happened in his restaurant.  He wouldn’t even look at me.  He’s back in his office on the phone right now with his insurance company, trying to find out what he needs to do now.”  Maricruz breathed deeply.  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to move the restaurant.  Who’s going to want to eat supper in a place where somebody got killed, even if he did deserve it?”

Lyle put his head in his hands.  “Oh shit, Mari.  What have we done?”

Before Maricruz could answer, their attention was diverted to the front door where the coroner was finally showing up to do whatever he needed to do to declare DB officially dead as the result of two gunshot wounds, thankfully from the barrels of two police handguns instead of as a result of a bullet from a gun Lyle never should have had in the first place or from a meat tenderizing hammer.  Lyle would have pulled the trigger if he had to in order to keep his promise to Amanda or to protect Maricruz, but he was more thankful that he hadn’t been the one to kill DB than he’d been for anything in his entire life.  Life in prison was one way to stay sober, but Lyle preferred taking it one day at a time on the outside. 

Lyle finally started to get up with Maricruz and Amanda’s help.  “We need to get over there to see Rick,” he said.

As soon as Lyle said this, the chubby young police officer, who turned out to be Officer Patterson according to his name badge, hurried over to the three of them and informed them, “There’s another ambulance of volunteer EMT’s on their way to take you to the hospital to get that shoulder looked at and to get checked for a concussion.  As for you two ladies, you’re going to the police department to answer some questions.  Young Amanda here has been very forthcoming about the gun and the stolen car, and Miss Rodriguez has admitted to vandalizing the deceased’s truck.  That’s a good start, but we need to get all this sorted out.”

Lyle tried to convince the police officer and Maricruz that he didn’t need to go to the hospital, that he should go to the station with them, but neither one paid him much attention, surely knowing he was just being a cowboy by pretending not to be in pain although it was getting harder and harder to hide just how badly his shoulder was throbbing.  When the volunteer EMT’s arrived, they tried to relocate his shoulder, and when they did this Lyle’s jig was up.  He howled when they worked on it until they finally decided he needed to just wait until he got to the ER so they could give him some pain meds or anesthesia before they did it.  They walked him to the ambulance and sped off toward the west, covering the same distance in forty minutes that it had taken him all night to cover on foot. 

The next few hours were a haze to Lyle.  Although he was in excruciating pain during the ambulance ride, he was finally lying down on a bed of sorts.  After nearly two full days without sleep he dozed off into an uncomfortable slumber.  In the Emergency Room they gave him a shot of morphine and everything was blank from then until he woke up in a hospital room six hours later.  He pushed the button on the side of his bed, summoning a nurse who informed him that his shoulder was now back in place. 

“You gave us quite a scare,” she said.  “When you wouldn’t wake up we thought the brain injury might be worse than we originally thought, but when they were finally able to talk to your emergency contact,”—she looked down at his chart—“a Maricruz Rodriguez, she told us about what you’d been through.  Thankfully the scan didn’t show any sign of a concussion.  You must have passed out from a combination of pain from your shoulder and just sheer exhaustion.  Because you were so exhausted, not to mention extremely dehydrated, the ER docs thought it was a good idea for you to stay for a day or two so we can have you hooked up to the monitors for observation, to fill you up with fluids, and so you can sleep.” 

“How did you talk to Maricruz?” he asked.  “Where did you get in touch with her?”

“The charge nurse called the police station over in Rocky Ford and the chief let Ms. Rodriquez talk to her.  Sounds like you’ve had quite a day.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Lyle responded.

“Maybe you could tell me about it while you’re in here.  I love a good story.  Not now, though.”  She motioned toward the door where there was a rail-thin Hispanic man in scrubs holding a tray of food.  “It’s time for you to eat some supper and then probably get some more sleep.”

“Wait a second,” Lyle said as the nurse headed for the door.  “My friend, Rick Wallace, was brought in here in an ambulance thirty minutes or so before I came in.  He’d been shot in the stomach.  Do you know anything about him?  Is he okay?  Is he alive?”

The nurse shrugged her shoulders.  “If he did survive he’d either be in surgery, surgery recovery, or ICU.  I’ll see what I can find out for you, but I have to finish my rounds first.  Now, you try to eat something, okay?”

After she left, Lyle choked down the Salisbury steak, peas and carrots, and instant mashed potatoes, washing it down with a cup of apple juice.  He thought about trying to call Maricruz’s parents to see what was going on but he chickened out because he didn’t want to talk to Fernando if he answered the phone.  After flipping through TV channels and watching a few minutes of an old episode of M.A.S.H., Lyle dozed off again, sleeping so deeply he did not remember dreaming, which was okay with him since he seemed to work out a lot of his guilt for his past life in is dreams.

Lyle awoke the next morning surprised at the sights of the sun shining through the window and Maricruz curled up in the stiff recliner covered with mauve toned vinyl.  He looked up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was already 8:00 am.  He couldn’t help but watch Maricruz sleep for a few minutes, both amazed and relieved that she’d stuck with him when no one would have blamed her for bailing.  Seeing her lying there, curled up like a baby under a pink felt blanket, someone who didn’t know her would have no idea how strong she was, how determined and steadfast was, not to mention how dedicated to her family, how fierce in her love for Benny, how powerful in protecting herself, and how forgiving and tender and patient with Lyle.  If it wouldn’t have been for Rick, though, he very well may have never seen her again. 

“Mari,” Lyle said softly, hesitant to wake her up, but needing to know what had come of Rick.  “Mari.”  Her eyes started to flutter.  “Baby I need you to wake up for me for just a minute.”

She wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat up.  “Hey, Babe,” she said groggily, yawning.

“When did you get here?” Lyle asked.

“About 4 am.  I didn’t want to wake you.”

Lyle was afraid to ask about Rick but he did anyway.  “Any news on Rick?  Did he make it?”

In between yawns, Maricruz answered, “I found Jacqueline and the boys sleeping in the ICU waiting room last night when I got here.  I wasn’t going to wake them up either but Jacqueline heard me open the door and she insisted I sit down with her.  She said she’d come in to check on you while you were sleeping.”

“So if he was in ICU, that means he’s alive!” Lyle said, filled with hope.

“Yes, Lyle… for now.  He was in surgery for several hours yesterday.  He’d lost a ton of blood.  But, yeah Baby, he survived.  They’re keeping him sedated for now, though, so his body can try to mend itself.  She said the doctors said if he survives the next couple of days he has a decent chance to make it, but that he’s going to be in the hospital for a long time.”

“Did you tell her how it happened?” Lyle wondered.

“Yeah.  I told her that DB had the gun pointed at Amanda and that Rick saved her life, that he risked his own life for somebody he didn’t even know.  Then I told her a little of Amanda’s story and she was even more proud of him.  When I got up to leave she actually gave me a hug.  I felt so horrible standing there hugging her, knowing that she has no idea about me and Rick, about Benny.”

“Maybe it’s better that way,” Lyle assured her.  “At least for now.”

Maricruz stayed silent.

"I kind of scared to ask," Lyle said.  "But where's Amanda?"

"She's with my parents for now," Maricruz answered.

"Really?  Wow, that's not what I expected you to say."  The IV monitor beside Lyle's bed began to beep, alerting a nurse that the bag of potassium solution that had been rehydrating Lyle was now empty.  Over the annoying beep, Lyle asked Maricruz, "So what happened at the police station?  Or I guess I should just ask it this way: just how much trouble are we in?"