js&cs.thebridge-第37节

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s。〃
　　As　the　door　slammed　shut　behind　them。
　　
　　The　woman's　name　was　Pat　Holtzaple。　She　was　thirty…two　years　old。　Her　due　date　was　the　same　as　her　birthday：　November　25th。　The　day　after　tomorrow。
　　The　first　contraction　had　hit　not　more　than　three　minutes　into　the　Eagles　game。　Tim　had　invited　a　bunch　of　the　guys　over。　Lucky；　lucky。　Instant　baby…sitters；　for　the　price　of　a　case　of　Old　Milwaukee　and　a　couple　of　pepperoni　pizzas。　As　with　her　last　four　deliveries；　the　contractions　came　on　sudden　and　straight　to　the　point。　They　were　of　to　the　hospital　at　once。
　　It　was　warm　outside；　and　Pat　needed　the　air；　so　she　cracked　her　window　and　moaned　into　the　slipstream。　Tim　was　doing　sixty　in　a　residential　zone。
　　They　were　on　Rathton　Road；　less　than　an　eighth　of　a　mile　from　Labor　Hall；　when　the　wasp　blew　in　the　window　crack　and　stung　her　in　the　shoulder。
　　Admissions　had　been　insane。　A　lot　of　people　were　there　with　bizarro　plaints：　their　bushes　attacked　them；　or　their　three…headed　cat。　Pat's　condition；　on　the　other　hand；　was　clear。　Even　though　she　was　utterly；　uncharacteristically　spaced；　that　could　have　been　explained　any　number　of　ways。
　　And　she　swore　up　and　down　she　wasn't　allergic　to　wasps。
　　Anaphylactic　shock　didn't　strike　until　they　were　in　the　elevator。　Her　skin　went　red　and　itchy　and　hot　in　the　space　of　a　single　contraction。　By　the　time　the　doors　opened　on　Four；　she　was　violently　coughing；　her　heart　rate　going　triple…time。
　　By　the　time　they　hit　Maternity；　she　was　barely　breathing　at　all。
　　The　RN's　went　into　Code　Blue　at　once：　calling　her　doctor　while　they　jammed　tubes　up　her　nose　and　injected　her　with　atropine。　No　go。　Her　final　contraction　had　far　less　to　do　with　birth　than　death。
　　Tim　had　to　leave　the　room　when　they　cut　her　open　to　rescue　the　baby。　He　didn't　miss　much。　Just　a　little　more　heartbreak。
　　The　baby　was　also　blue。
　　
　　〃Goddamm　it！〃　Micki　spat；　slamming　the　receiver　down。　For　the　eighty…seventh　time；　the　'PAL　line　was　busy。　The　little　she　knew　about　Pat　Holtzaple　was　enough　to　make　her　nerves　tripwire。
　　Relax；　Bob…Ramtha　said。
　　〃Yeah；　right；〃　she　hissed。　〃Relax；　my　ass。〃
　　The　situation　is　not　yours　to　control。
　　〃And　that's　supposed　to　make　me　feel　better？　Christ；　Bobba　。。。　！〃
　　Wait；　he　said；　and　turned　her　around。　Melissa　motioned　her　hither；　from　Gwen's　doorway。　The　nurse's　face　was　calculatedly　neutral。
　　The　clock　said　ten　after　two。
　　
　　
　　　Twenty…Nine
　　　
　　The　Mt。　Rose　Amoco　Shop　'N'　Go　got　its　first　real　whiff　of　hell　at　eleven　after　two。
　　It　came　in　the　form　of　a　tan　Arrow　van；　with　a　bumper　sticker　that　read　CAUTION：　IN　CASE　OF　RAPTURE；　THIS　VEHICLE　WILL　VACATE　WITHOUT　WARNING。　Jennie　Quirez　wouldn't　even　have　noticed　it　pulling　into　the　lot；　were　it　not　for　the　way　it　wavered　on　its　way　to　the　gas　island：　wobbly　as　a　newborn　colt；　unsteady　on　its　balding　whitewall　tires。
　　Drunk　driver　was　her　first　guess；　though　the　bumper　sticker　would　have　seemed　to　belie　that　charge。　（Like　you　couldn't　be　a　drunk　who　believed　in　the　Rapture。　Like；　for　example；　her　papa　had　been。）　Her　second　guess　was　senior　citizen。　Neither　one　was　on　the　mark。
　　Sunday　afternoons　at　the　Shop　'N'　Go　were　notoriously　slow；　low…key　affairs；　but　today　was　a　notable　exception。　A　near…continuous　dribble　of　customers　had　graced　her　presence　all　day　long；　and　she'd　had　to　face　the　fact　that；　barring　a　surprise　visit　from　Mr。　Truck；　they'd　be　out　of　the　eighty…seven　octane　within　the　hour。
　　In　fact；　she　was　just　writing　up　the　little　OUT　OF　SERVICE　signs　when　the　van　pulled　up　at　the　number　two　pump；　lurched　abruptly　to　a　halt。　Its　cargo　area　was　packed　to　overflowing；　as　if　it　had　been　packed　for　an　extremely　long　vacation。　If　so；　it　was　certainly　off　to　a　wonderful　start。
　　From　her　seat　at　the　register；　Jennie　had　an　unobstructed　view　of　the　screaming　family　within：　three　little　towheads；　crying　in　the　back；　pretty　young　Mom　in　the　shotgun　seat；　clutching　a　baby…sized　bundle　to　her　breast　and　crying；　too。
　　Last；　of　course；　was　dear　old　Dad：　huge；　stoop…shouldered　and　hollering　from　his　place　behind　the　wheel。　The　sight　pushed　all　of　her　damaged；　dysfunctional　family　buttons　at　once。　The　contents　of　his　dissertation　were　hidden；　but　the　dynamics　were　unmistakable。　What　an　asshole；　she　thought；　her　contempt　instantaneous。
　　Then　he　threw　open　the　door；　staggered　rapidly　for　the　pump。
　　And　her　first　impression　radically　changed。
　　Jesus　God。　Suddenly　alarmed。　What　happened　to　you？　Even　from　fifteen　yards　away；　the　unhealthy　sheen　of　his　overwhite　plexion　was　impossible　to　miss。　He　moved　painfully；　like　he　might　keel　over　at　any　second；　from　the　hurried；　hitching　gait　of　his　bearlike　body　to　the　unnatural　pallor　of　his　face；　everything　about　him　looked　terribly　wrong。
　　He　wasn't　even　dressed　like　a　man　on　vacation。　He　was　dressed　like　a　guy　who'd　been　puttering　around　the　house：　dirty　jeans；　an　oil…stained　work　shirt。　His　pants　were　soggy　and　stained；　as　if　he'd　fallen　into　something　vile。
　　Jennie　thought　instantly　of　calling　911；　mentally　calculated　how　long　it　might　take　an　ambulance　to　get　here。　If　he　was　having　a　heart　attack　or　something；　she　didn't　know　what　she'd　do。　Her　repertoire　of　therapeutic　moves　was　ridiculously　small。　The　Heimlich　maneuver。　A　really　great　back　rub。
　　At　the　same　time；　she　told　herself；　he's　still　walking　around。　It　might　be　just　a　little　bit　premature　to　call。
　　Which；　of　course；　forced　her　to　respond　to　herself　with　a　reminder　of　how　badly　he'd　been　driving。　Which；　of　course；　set　her　off　on　a　prehensive　point/counterpoint　volley　inside　her　head。　By　the　time　she　got　done　weighing　the　options；　he　had　his　gas　cap　off　and　was　ready　to　go。
　　She　decided　to　give　it　a　minute；　keep　a　watchful　eye　on　him；　hope　for　the　best；　and　prepare　herself；　should　the　worst　transpire。　As　it　so　often　did。
　　The　thought　made　her　glance　nervously　at　the　clock。
　　And；　for　some　strange　reason；　worry　about　her　man。
　　Because　Austin　seemed　to　picture　her　as　some　kind　of　unflappable　love…angel…the　patron　saint　of　inexhaustible　good　cheer…but　it　simply　wasn't　true。　If　it　seemed　that　way；　it　was　just　because　he　made　her　feel　so　goddam　good　every　time　he　was　around。
　　The　fact　was；　she　worried　a　lot。　She　worried　about　almost　everything；　and　blamed　herself　constantly：　Daddy's　little　caretaker；　still　fretting　over　the　details　and　putting　things　to　rights。　From　middle　age　to　the　Middle　East；　true　love　to　2　Live　Crew；　the　possibility　of　an　afterlife　to　the　possibility　of　after…dinner　drinks　at　Austin's　place；　if　it　could　be　turned　into　a　topic　of　concern；　she　had　a　fissure　in　her　brain　already　reserved　for　the　occasion。
　　And　that　was　just　your　basic　generic　concern。　That　was　when　nothing　was　going　on。　That　was　before　the　guy　she　was　falling　in　love　with　got　dragged　of　on　some　secret　mission　that；　by　its　very　nature；　could　only　be　concerned　with　the　disposal　of　extremely　hazardous　materials　。。。
　　。。。　that　was　before　people　started　dropping　dead　in　the　middle　of　her　shift　。。。
　　The　number　two　light　on　her　console　was　blinking；　he'd　flicked　the　switch　one　too　many　times；　gone　from　off　to　on　and　back　again。　It　was　a　mon　enough　mistake；　for　agitated　people　in　particular。
　　〃Yikes；〃　Jennie　said：　a　Deitz…ism　she'd　absorbed　through　osmosis。　She　pressed　the　button；　reset　the　pump。　Now　all　he　had　to　do　was　turn　it　on　again。
　　The　white…faced　man　had　the　nozzle　in　the　tank。　He　leaned　into　the　van　at　an　awkward　angle；　as　if　it　were　too　stressful　or　painful　to　stand　up　straight。　For　the　first　time；　she　noticed　that　his　right　hand　was　wrapped　in　a　large；　white；　oily…looking　bandage。
　　He　clenched　his　teeth；　squeezed　the　nozzle　handle　with　his　left。　When　nothing　happened；　he　let　out　what　looked　like　a　wordless　yowl　of　pain；　then　leaned　forward　and　flicked　the　switch　again。
　　Click　clack。　On。　Off。
　　〃Shit；〃　she　hissed。　Outside；　he　more　violently　echoed　the　sentiment。　She　tried　to　reset；　but　he　had　lapsed　into　dumb…panic　mode：　if　it　didn't　work　by　just　flicking　it　once；　doing　it　eight　times　really　hard　was　bound　to　do　the　trick。
　　〃Okay。〃　Fighting　off　the　minor　wave　of　irritation。　He　needed　coaching；　there　was　an　inter　for　that　very　purpose。　She　got　off　her　butt　and　went　to　it　at　once。
　　〃Sir？〃　Speaking　into　the　booming　mic。　He　jumped；　gaze　flying　from　the　pole…mounted　inter　speaker　to　the　window　she　stood　behind。　For　the　first　time；　their　eyes　made　contact。　At　this　distance；　his　eyes　just　looked　vacant　and　huge。
　　〃Hang　on　a　second。〃　She　pressed　reset　once　again；　stopped　the　little　light　from　blinking。　〃okay。　Now　try　it。〃
　　Click　clack。　On。　Off。
　　〃arrr　。。。　no。　don't　do　that；〃　she　scolded。　He　responded　with　an　expression　of　misery　so　intense　that　she　literally　felt　it；　trickling　cold　down　her　spine。　Oh；　God；　don't　die；　she　silently　prayed；　instantly　overwhelmed　by　her　guilt。
　　〃Just　don't　touch　it；　okay？〃　she　continued；　shifting　gears。　Incredibly　sweet　now；　her　voice。　And　utterly　reassuring。　〃I'll　be　right　out　to　fix　it；　okay？〃　Then　she　pushed　the　button　one　final　time；　headed　quickly　around　the　counter。
　　A　banged…up　black　Jeep　Cherokee　wheeled　onto　the　lot　as　Jennie　reached　the　door。　She