New Loves

Sundown in zion

CHAPTER THIRTY-two

            Nelson left the Natural Resources campus and had lunch at a place not far away with the odd name of Jimmy's Serious Sandwiches. The title fit and Nelson enjoyed a meatloaf sandwich and potato salad. Then he drove across the street to a large park in the center of the older part of Little Rock. War Memorial Park featured a golf course, sports stadium, zoo, and the object of Nelson’s attention: a large fitness center. He took a gym bag from the passenger side of his truck and entered the facility where he paid a daily fee and changed in the men’s locker room. Once changed, he hit the weight room with an intensity bordering on fury. Others working out nearby stopped to watch the strong man pumping iron, not with huge amounts of weight, but with astounding repetitions and precision. He moved from station to station, quietly ignoring the stares as a film of sweat formed on his body.

            After an hour in the weight room, he took to the streets and ran for another hour. By the time he had returned, showered, and dressed, it was mid-afternoon. He drove next door to the hospital where he had visited Clifton the night before. He parked in the same deck in which he had encountered the Soul Warriors and walked into the hospital. As he arrived at Clifton’s room, the nurse who had greeted him the night before was leaving, carrying a tray of medication and various instruments. She was an attractive woman of near 60 years of age with dark brunette hair pulled into a bun. A pair of stylish half-lens glasses perched on the end of her nose, uncovering blue eyes the color of an autumn sky. She wore a soft brown uniform and a badge that identified her as Christina Lopez, RNP.

            The nurse looked over the lenses of her glasses and recognized Nelson. “Oh,” she said, “it’s you again.”

            He smiled, “Do you work night and day here?”

            “In the process of changing shifts,” she said, “so I get the pleasure of Clifton’s company again today.”

            “How is he?” Nelson said. “And may I see him?”

            “Better, and he would enjoy that I’m sure,” she said, “as long it is a short visit.”

            “Will he be here long?”

            “You don’t know much about modern hospitals, do you?”
            “Not civilian ones,” Nelson said.

            “We’ll evict him as soon as he can sit upright in wheel chair,” Nurse Lopez said. “And then he’s not our worry anymore, but his family’s.”

            Nelson studied her face. “Do you know if he has any family?”

            “No,” she said. “Do you?”

            “What?” he said. “Have any family?” He smiled and winked. “Are you trying to tease information out of me?”

            She balanced the tray on one hand and patted his arm, still swollen from the workout. “You should be so lucky, and a bit more mature,” she said, smiling. “I meant do you know if he has family?”

            “He’s never mentioned anything to me except that his wife died young,” Nelson said. “But I don’t know him that well.”

            “See what you can find out,” she said. “The powers that be will want to establish a dumping place soon.” With that, she eased past Nelson and left.

            Clifton still looked awful. Some of the swelling had left his face but the bruises were now dark but multi-colored. As Nelson entered the room, Clifton turned his face toward him and attempted to raise his head and smile. The effort produced a grimace and Clifton lowered his head back onto the pillow. “Hell of a mess, ain’t it?” he said, his voice barely audible.

            “I’ve seen worse,” Nelson said. The important thing is how you feel.”

            “Like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet, as they say over in Armistead County.” He stared at the ceiling without moving his head. “Did you see Nurse Goodbody when you came in?”

            “I saw Nurse Lopez,” Nelson said. “She seems to be taking good care of you.”

            “She’s a nosey old thing,” Clifton said. “Wanted to know who you were.”

            “And what did you tell her?”

            “That I had no idea but that troubles seem to come with the package as far as you are concerned.” Nelson smiled, though Clifton couldn’t see it. “She thought that was interesting.” He shifted his face slightly toward Nelson. “She ain’t a bad old gal, as nurses go. But what brings you to see an old beat up man?”

            “Was in the vicinity and wanted to see if you made it through the night. I see you did, you tough old bird.”

            “Don’t make me laugh,” Clifton said. “It hurts too much.”

            “If it helps your healing,” Nelson said, “I think the boys that did this to you won’t be around to do it to anyone else.”

            “You didn’t …?”

            “No,” Nelson said, interrupting him. “But I’m pretty sure they aren’t around anymore. I think they ‘lit out for the territories,’ as Huck Finn would say.”

            “Who the hell are you, Mister?”

            “Just a poor avenging angel trying to make an honest living.”

            “You make me laugh one more time and I’m calling Nurse Goodbody. I think she kinda likes me and I think she could whip your ass, mean as you are.”

            “I think so too,” Nelson said. “I suspect she pulled a double shift just so she could be the one taking care of you.”

            “I’ve warned you for the last time about making me laugh.”

            “You said the boys who did this to you wanted to know about me,” Nelson said. “Did they seem to want anything else?”

            A long silence followed. Then Clifton spoke with some surprise in his voice. “They did keep asking what you knew about that girl.”

            “Abbey Stubblefield?”

            “Who?”

            “The girl who was murdered.”

            “No,” Clifton said. He thought with apparent effort. “They didn’t mention her.”

            “Who then?”

            “That Bridgette girl. The one who used to make then men’s eyeballs pop out when she sashayed through the diner.”

            “The one who ran off from the rehab center?”

            “That’s the one.” Clifton’s whole body seemed to sag. “Now Mr. …” he said.

            “Gideon.”

            “Now Gideon. I’m too tired to talk anymore. Besides, I think Nurse Goodbody shot me through with truth serum and I might tell you something about myself that I don’t want you to know.” He closed his eyes.

            “Rest my friend.” Nelson said, patting Clifton’s arm. “I’ll be back.”

            As he reached the door, he met Christina Lopez. She looked him over and said, “I was just coming to chase you off.”

            Nelson smiled. “He did that himself.”

            “Independent old cuss, ain’t he though? ” Lopez said.

            “Appears to be,” Nelson said. “You’ll take good care of him?”

            “Hon,” she said, “I took care of a husband for 20 years with him laying up drunk. Then I kicked him out and I’ve taken care of people who deserved it since. I can take care of one more.”

            “I suspect you can,” Nelson said. “He’s lucky to have you.”

            Lopez beamed, “Get out, you sweet-talking white devil,” she said. She winked at him and hurried into Clifton’s room.

            As he was walking back to his truck, Nelson’s cell phone rang. He found a bench, sat, and answered it. He nodded his head and said, “Fine Sheriff. I’m doing fine.” He nodded again. “Found out some mildly interesting things. But, let me ask you something.” He paused. “I’ll get back to that but first, back in your Marine days, when you went on patrol, did you ever use the ‘column to skirmishers right’ formation?” He stopped. “I know it was a long time ago, but think back.” He listened again, “Good, now you know it kept you from perhaps missing a target off to your right while you focused on what lay ahead, correct?” He listened. “I do have a point. I think we may be missing something off to our right. Yes I think it is important, or at least I get that feeling. Okay. Then tell me, do you still stay in touch with Sergeant Patterson over at the Connerville Police Department.? Do you trust him? Good.  Now can you do something for me?”

            Nelson drove home slowly. Following a long-established routine, he approached his house from a circuitous route. At one point, it took him past a well-maintained craftsman-style home located on a quiet street four blocks from his own. Something caught his eye, and he stopped. Charlie’s car sat in the driveway of the house, parked behind a late-model Toyota Prius. Attached to the back of Charlie’s car was a bicycle-carrying rack made to transport two units. Nelson stared for a moment, then laughed to himself. “I’ll be damned,” he said.

            He was sitting in the porch swing having a drink when Charlie came home. He parked his car behind Nelson’s in the driveway. It still had the bike racks attached. Charlie eased from his car and stood straightening his clothes and checking himself. Then he joined Nelson on the swing. Neither man spoke for a minute. Nelson broke the silence.

            “Saw a car that looked a lot like that parked a few blocks from here,” he said. “It must be a popular model.” He raised his drink and took a slow, deliberate drink, a move certain to maintain an easy flow of conversation.

            “Notice anything new about it?” Charlie said, staring at the street.

            “Did you wash it?”

            “Fuck you,” Charlie said.

            “Want to tell me about her? I know what she looks like. I’ve seen her walk by and smile at you too many times.”

            “Her name is Angela Masterson.”

            Nelson said nothing.

            “You already know how I met her.”

            Nelson nodded.

            “She’s a consultant. Learned GIS in the Air Force and works on her own now.”

            Nelson said, “I suppose that’s why she walks by at odd times.”

            “Yes, she sets her own hours. That’s map making and such—GIS is”

            “I know. They always had GIS people on the ships that deployed us,” Nelson said. “They’ve gotten me into and out of trouble on many an occasion.”

            “How’s your girl?” Charlie said.

            “If you mean Tina, I don’t think she would give you an ‘A’ for calling her that, ‘my girl’ I mean. So yours likes to ride bikes too?”

            “What was your first clue?”

            The two warriors carried on like that for a while, taking turns verbally probing and counterpunching. Night began to creep upon the urban landscape like a traveler feeling his way in unknown territory. Nelson withdrew first from the skirmishing.

            “I think I may go for a ride,” he said as he finished his drink.

            “I think I’ll freshen up a bit and go for a walk,” Charlie said, standing to yawn and stretch.

            From over the park, two stars appeared and began to sparkle at one another, seemingly amused at the human comedy unfolding below.