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Chapter or Story
Part 7 - Piano
Jarod opened the door to find Sydney, Miss Parker and Broots waiting outside the room.
"What is it, Jarod?" The psychiatrist was the first to speak but Jarod's eyes were trained on the anxious father. He stepped out, pulling the door closed behind him.
"What is it? Is it bad?" Broots leaned back against the wall, his face pale.
"It's difficult to say." Jarod paused. "I think it's likely that there are internal injuries, but we won't be able to say for sure unless we operate." He stopped again. "We might need a hand, Sydney. With the anesthetic, I mean. This could be too big for just one of us alone. We'll provide a seat for you."
Sydney nodded. "As long as Broots is happy for me to do it, I can try."
Jarod looked at the man, who still looked too shocked to speak. "Broots, if we do this, it has to be soon. I need your permission."
The man nodded vaguely. "Do whatever you need to." He paused and then swallowed hard. "Can I see her?"
Jarod nodded. "We'll need some time to prepare. What say you and Miss Parker go in until we're ready?"
Jarod descended the stairs and walked in among the group that sat there. They all looked up at him in silence.
"What are you going to do, son?"
"We have to operate - at once."
He walked over to Angelo. The savant handed the bag over before the pretender could ask for it, grabbing Jarod's hand and squeezing it gently. "Good luck."
The Pretender stared at him for a moment before finally smiling and turning to his father. "I don't know how long it will take, Dad. It could be quite a while. They'll need..."
Major Charles reached out and touched his son on the arm. "I understand. Do what you have to do." He held his son in his arms for a moment before letting him go. "Good luck - to all of you."
The Pretender nodded, grasped the bag firmly and, turning, left the room.
He walked into the bathroom to find Sydney and Steven waiting for him. Opening the bag, he pulled out gowns and masks that he had grabbed from the place where he had got the rest of the equipment.
"We're going to have to make do. I got everything I thought was necessary, but I don't know how we're going to sterilize..."
"What do you need, Jarod?"
He turned to find Miss Parker standing in the doorway. "Hot water. Can you take a bowl of it up into the room? Oh, and a tray?"
She nodded and rapidly went down the stairs. He picked up the bag and carried it into the room where Debbie lay, her father leaning over the bed. Jarod shook his head at the man as he looked up expectantly and went over to a table. Miss Parker walked into the room and he took the tray from her and placed it onto the table, covering it with a cloth. She placed the bowl down and he thanked her with a smile as she turned away. He opened the packages and tipped the instruments into the hot water, leaving them there while he left the room again.
Returning to the bathroom, he found the others ready and, while he scrubbed his hands at the sink, he laid out the plans for the surgery.
"I’d hope only two or three hours duration. Syd," he turned and looked hard at the psychiatrist, "if that arm starts troubling you, Steve can take over. I don't want to have to take care of two patients."
Sydney nodded. "I understand, Jarod." He left the room to prepare the child for the surgery.
Jarod watched him go and then slipped his arms into the gown that Steven held ready for him and then bent down to allow him to fix on the mask.
"Parker!" His voice was slightly muffled but she appeared in the doorway. "We're ready to start. Can you...?"
"Don't worry, Jarod. I'll take care of Broots. You take care of..." Her voice broke, revealing the depth of feeling that she had for the girl.
"We will, Parker. We're going to do the best we can."
She smiled, a weak and watery smile, and turned, going into the room and coming out with Broots, who refused to look at the two masked figures that stood at the end of the hallway.
"Ready?" He met the eyes of his clone, who nodded.
"Ready."
"How's she doing?"
"Blood pressure's very low. Respiration is fast but shallow. Pulse is weak and rapid."
Jarod nodded. "Scalpel."
It was placed in his gloved hand by his clone from the tray on which Sydney had earlier laid out the instruments before anesthetizing the girl. Jarod took a deep breath before making the first incision. The blood that began to well up in the wound was of a greater than usual amount and revealed that his diagnosis had been correct. The smaller hands used gauze to absorb as much as possible until Jarod could finally see the cause of the problem.
"Kidney. Damn."
"Perforated?" Sydney asked quietly.
Jarod nodded abruptly. "Clamp."
The flow of blood slowed to a slight trickle and slowly began to suture the damaged organ. Jarod looked up to see that Sydney was beginning to lose color and he glanced at his assistant.
"Replacing anesthetist. Thank you, Sydney, for your help."
"But, Jarod..."
"Thank you," the Pretender reiterated firmly. "Go down and see how Broots is going. Tell him that we're going well here and I'll be down soon."
Sydney looked at him once again before stepping away and letting the boy take his place. As he closed the door behind him, Jarod looked across at Steven.
"You okay?"
The boy nodded. "Fine. You?"
"Good." He turned back and concentrated on his work, sighing with relief as even the slight trickle of blood finally stopped. "Considering the limitations that we're working under, we're doing well. With any luck, there'll hardly be a scar."
The boy nodded. "Her blood pressure's rising and respiration is more regular."
"Good," Jarod smiled behind the mask. "Hang in there, Debbie. We're nearly done and then your Daddy can see you."
Half an hour later, he placed the last piece of tape on the bandages and pulled the mask from his face, wiping the sweat away from his mouth.
"Good job, partner."
"You too, Doctor." The boy grinned as he pulled off his own mask and tore off his gloves. Jarod smiled in reply.
"I'm going to go and relieve the mind of her father. Do you mind hanging around for a little longer? I'll give you a break soon."
The boy nodded. "No problem." He turned back and checked on the girl that lay in front of him. Jarod smiled to himself and, tearing off his own gloves, opened the door and left the room.
He stood in the open doorway of the living room for a second before anyone noticed him and then both Broots and Miss Parker jumped to their feet.
"How is she?" The technician was pale and Jarod noticed that Miss Parker was not a lot better.
"Doing very well." He put as much confidence into his voice as possible. "We managed to stop the bleeding and she's come through the operation very well indeed. But I can't let you in to see her until we're sure she's coming around properly." And until we've cleaned up the room a little, he thought to himself. "I'll send down Steve as soon as we're ready."
"Jarod!"
He looked over at Sydney as Broots dropped into the chair in front of which he had been standing. "Yes?"
"Can I do anything?"
The younger man nodded. "Make sure that your shoulder isn't any worse." He turned and left the room abruptly.
Jarod checked on the girl's condition as the boy began sweeping soiled items into large garbage bags that the pretender had grabbed for the purpose. The two of them moved the bed away from the middle of the room until the head was resting against a wall and was accessible from either side. Jarod fasted the IV sack on a convenient picture hook in the wall, placed a chair beside the bed and then noticed that the anesthetic was wearing off.
"Debbie?" He reached over and gently touched her on the arm. "Debbie, it's time to wake up now."
Her eyes slowly fluttered opened and, after a few seconds, she focused on him.
"Hi," he smiled. "I know that you don't feel very good right now, but you're going to start feeling a lot better soon, I promise. Do you feel sick or just sore?"
"Sore." The word was a mumble through numb lips. "Can I see Daddy?"
Jarod glanced over and met Steven's eye. The boy, in answer to the prearranged signal, nodded and left the room immediately. Looking down, he saw that the girl was lying with her eyes closed, but the tenseness of the hand in his told him that she was trying to stay awake.
"He's coming now, Debbie."
As he spoke, Jarod could hear footsteps hurrying up the stairs but, as he looked up, the man paused in the doorway. The Pretender waved him in and then gently shook the little girl again.
"Your daddy's here, Debbie." He smiled at the technician but the man was too focused on his daughter to see it. Jarod took several steps around the bed, careful not to jar it, and stepped out of the room. Leaning against the wall, as he had guessed he would, he found Miss Parker.
"How is she really doing, Jarod?"
"As well as she could possibly be, Parker. I wouldn't lie to her father or you. She'll need some specialized care over the next few days, but she'll recover."
She exhaled slowly and he wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly against himself.
"I know that, as much as you might not want to admit it, that little girl means a lot to you. If only for that reason, I would tell you the truth." He gently kissed the top of her head. "I have to go back in there now, but I think Broots could probably do with something to drink," he looked at his watch, "and maybe some lunch. And he isn't the only one."
She disentangled herself from his grasp and was gone. With a smile, Jarod re-entered the room.
"She's so... sleepy!" The expression burst from Broots as Jarod appeared in the doorway. The pretender took the frightened father by the arm and drew him into another corner.
"Mr Broots, your daughter was given enough anesthetic that she wouldn't wake up during surgery. As a result, she'll probably still be drowsy for most of the rest of today. To avoid her having to suffer through more pain than necessary, we'll be keeping her very sedated for a few days yet to give her wounds time to heal properly. That means that she'll be asleep for most of the time." He placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Your daughter is doing very well." He stressed the last two words. "I know that you're worried about her - it's natural that you should be - but she really is doing well."
"Really?"
"Really." Jarod walked across to the bed and allowed his hand to rest on her wrist for several moments. "Her pulse is stronger and she's breathing more regularly. It couldn't be better at this stage."
He picked up the now bare table and carried it over, placing it beside the bed. "I asked Miss Parker to bring up some food. It's long past lunchtime and I'm sure you could do with something."
"Food..."
"Mr Broots, your daughter needs you. If you don't eat, I'll have another patient, and I have my hands full with Debbie and Sydney. Please, I know it's hard after all the stress, but at least try to make the effort."
The balding man nodded slowly. "All right," he said at last. "I'll try."
Jarod opened the door of the room and allowed Steven to take his place in the corner. "Got something to do?"
The boy held up a book and grinned meaningfully. Jarod laughed and shook his head. "Don't get so wrapped up in it that you forget what you have to do."
Steven grinned at the tall man and then sat down in the chair.
"I always thought that a doctor's life was an easy one," a voice mocked.
He heard the teasing voice before he even entered the bedroom and smiled at her as she sat up in bed reading a book.
"Depends on the patient. And on the patient's family. The less they know about medicine, the more difficult it is, sort of."
"Who's in there now?"
"Steve. He volunteered to take a shift until six. I told him to come and get me for my turn then." He settled into bed beside her and gathered her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "I'm still trying to get over the shock of learning that he's alive - but, yes, I'm getting used to the idea."
"He was very lucky."
"I know."
"So what's the problem?"
"I just... this makes it more difficult, doesn't it?"
"Yes," he nodded soberly. "Debbie being sick - it does make things more difficult, but, in the same way, it also makes it a lot easier."
"Why?" She looked at him as though he had suddenly grown an extra head.
"Because we have Broots with us. He's much better than me at getting into the Centre's mainframe and, ironically, his assistance probably evens our chances, or makes them that little bit better."
She smiled up at him as she settled back into his arms.
"You're just wonderful, Jarod."
Jarod was awake before the door was even fully open and he cautiously sat up, trying not to disturb the woman who slept next to him.
"Is it six?"
"It's six," Steven’s voice murmured.
He got out of bed and dragged on the t-shirt that he had placed on a chair before pulling on his dressing gown and picking up the computer. Then he joined his clone in the hallway.
"How did she do?"
"Woke up at one and four. Her dad gave her some ice and then she went back to sleep. I changed her catheter and I.V. at five. I think she's beginning to rouse more fully now, but I haven't given her anything for the pain as yet. She hasn't needed it."
Jarod nodded. "Thanks, Steve." He held the boy in his arms for a moment before letting go and pushing him gently in the direction of his bedroom. "Sleep well."
He entered the room silently to find Broots sleeping with his head on the bed next to his daughter's hand. Jarod put his items down on the table that somebody had placed next to the watcher's chair the night before and then stepped over to the bed, checking for a pulse and watching the girl carefully.
"How's she doing?"
"Sydney! What are you doing up?" Just in time, Jarod remembered to keep his voice low as he turned to face his mentor.
"I heard Steven go past my door and thought I'd check that there wasn't anything wrong while I was up."
"If I tell you there isn't, will you go back to bed?"
"Not immediately." Sydney picked up another chair from the wall opposite the bed and placed it next to the one that had been left for Jarod to sit in. The Pretender allowed himself one glance of frustration, to which Sydney responded with a look of amusement, before turning back to the bed.
"Pulse stronger, respiration and pressure almost normal. Good girl, Debbie."
He stepped away from the bed and sat down opposite Sydney.
"I never thought you were this stubborn."
"I never thought you were this blind," Sydney smiled in response. "I admit that you are the more stubborn of the two of us, but I can dig my heels in if I feel it's necessary. And it's time I did."
"Why?"
"You have Debbie and, to a lesser extent, her father to look after. You don't need a third patient."
"Sydney," Jarod's tone was full of frustration. "That second bullet was lodged only an inch above your lung. If it’d punctured it, you might not be here now, arguing with me. I think I'm only being understandably cautious."
"All right," Sydney sat back in his chair. "I'll make you a deal."
Jarod's eyes narrowed instantly. "I'm not big on deals. Most of them don't work out to my advantage."
"This one will." Sydney smiled again. "I will continue to wear the sling if you will let me get up and help oversee Debbie." He paused. "It might not seem like it to you, but Broots means a lot to me and I want to help you care for his daughter. Besides, you couldn't possibly manage the whole day between the two of you. It realistically needs a third person."
The Pretender nodded slowly, his eyes wandering over to the bed. "As long as you promise that you won't try to overdo it, like you would have done yesterday if I hadn't made you go downstairs."
Sydney was about to protest but thought better of it. "All right. You can tell me when to stop, and I'll obey." He held out one hand. "Deal?"
Jarod shook the hand of the uninjured arm. "Deal. Now, go back to bed."
Sydney laughed but obeyed.
"Good morning, Mr Broots."
The man stopped stretching his stiff neck muscles and looked around to find the Pretender sitting in front of a computer.
"We'll try to find a bed for you tonight. Much more of that and you won't be able to turn your head."
"How's Debbie doing?"
"Better than yesterday. She's improving well. It won't be a quick recovery but, at this stage, it looks like being a full one."
Broots smiled and then winced as he stretched his leg. Jarod got up and walked over to him.
"Want me to take a look?"
The technician nodded and stood up, nearly falling as he put too much weight on the damaged foot. Jarod reached out an arm and caught him.
"Easy there. That can't be good for it."
"Wasn't good for me, either," the man muttered to himself as he limped over to the other chair and pulled his trouser leg up to his knee.
"I'll bet." Jarod eased off the shoe and the Snoopy sock, hiding a smile at the sight of it, before looking down at the swollen joint. "The prettiest looking sprained ankle I've seen in a long time. Very well decorated." He gently began to move the foot, rotating it slightly. Broots gasped and bit his bottom lip. "Well, it's not broken."
"How do you know?"
"Because if it was," Jarod grinned, "there wouldn't be a roof left on the house and your daughter certainly wouldn't still be asleep." He eased the foot down onto the chair that Sydney had sat on and then got up. "I'm going to get some ice for that, to help the swelling. If anything happens..."
"I'll be here." Jarod looked around to find Miss Parker in the doorway carrying three mugs on a tray. "You go and get the ice."
As he left the room, Jarod gently allowed his fingers to brush her shoulder and she smiled at him.
"Grngh." The gasp was restrained, but Jarod looked up as he secured the ice gently around the injured area.
"Sorry, Broots. I know it's painful."
"I'll survive." The words were spoken through clenched teeth and Jarod couldn't help exchanging a glance of amusement with Miss Parker as she left the room. "Must have got that stubbornness from your boss."
Broots nodded, a smile curving his lips, despite the pain. As he did so, Miss Parker reappeared in the doorway carrying a footstool, followed by Major Charles who was carrying a large easy-chair from the living room. The chair was set up next to the head of the bed so that the person sitting in it could reach the girl and Jarod helped Broots hobble over to it and ease himself into it.
"Any chance of a spare blanket?" the Pretender asked with a smile.
"Ooh, gee," Major Charles thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "That could be asking a bit much. What do you think, Miss Parker?"
As she was about to respond, a sound from the bed made them all turn towards it. Jarod waved his father back a little and the man smiled understandingly before he left the room.
"Hi Debbie." Jarod took a place on the other side of the bed. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Better." The voice was a croak and Jarod looked up at Miss Parker.
"Ice." His mouth formed the word silently and she disappeared rapidly through the door.
"Are you still sore, sweetheart?"
"No, Daddy." She yawned slightly. "Just tired."
"That's good, baby." Broots stroked her hair with a tender hand as Miss Parker reappeared with the glass and spoon.
Jarod took the glass from her and spoke firmly. "Debbie, I'm going to give you something to make your mouth less dry. Open up for me."
She obediently parted her lips and Jarod slipped several small slivers of ice onto the small, pink tongue.
"Nice?"
She nodded drowsily.
"Good girl. Just rest now."
