Chapter
17
MR. FONTAINE?”
Earl, who had been dozing in his prison hospital bed, roused, opened his eyes, and looked around.
“Mr. Fontaine?”
He focused on her, the young doctor. He sat up straighter. “Yeah, Doc?”
She pulled up a chair and sat next to him. Earl noted that a guard other than big Albert was with her. But the man was still keenly watching Earl. He probably knew Earl’s crimes even if the young doctor didn’t.
“I wanted to let you know that I made some calls.”
“Calls?”
“About your request.”
Earl knew what she was talking about, but he had decided to play to the hilt the doddering old man with not much time to live.
“’Bout my little girl, you mean?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Sweet Jesus, thank you so much, Doc.”
“I spoke to some people up in Washington.”
“Washington! Holy Lord! Thank you, thank you.”
“They put me in contact with other people after I explained the situation. Now, there are no guarantees.”
“’Course not, Doc, never expected none. But what you did, well, I don’t know enough words to properly thank you. It just means the world. The world to me.”
The doctor seemed embarrassed by this outpouring of gratitude. Her cheeks tinged with red, she continued. “These matters are very delicate, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Earl hastily said, “O’course I understand. All hush-hush, you mean?”
“Yes. Now, this isn’t exactly my field of expertise, but I explained the situation as best I could. The U.S. Marshals—”
“The Marshals, Lordy, Lordy,” exclaimed Earl. “My little girl is okay, ain’t she?”
“The Marshals oversee the Witness Protection Program, Mr. Fontaine.”
“Oh, hell, that’s right.” He pointed to his IV lines. “These drugs, Doc, these dang drugs mess up my head. Can’t think straight. Half the time ain’t even know my own name.”
“I’m sure,” she said, giving him a sympathetic smile. Then she hurried on. “They said that the request was very unusual and that they would have to check it out. I’m not sure how long it will take. But I did tell them of your personal circumstances. That is—” Here she faltered.
“Meaning I ain’t got much longer to live,” Earl said helpfully.
“Yes, I told them that. I didn’t go into specifics because that would be a violation of patient confidentiality.”
“Course, course,” said Earl encouragingly. “Hell, glad you did. Not like I care who knows. Dying is dying.”
“But they said if it proved legitimate, they would take steps to contact your daughter and at least put her in possession of the facts.”
“A damn dream come true and I say that right from here,” said Earl, with tears sliding down his cheeks as he touched his chest.
“Now, Mr. Fontaine, please understand, simply because they might reach out to her in no way assures that she will accept your offer to come and visit.”
“Hell, I know that, Doc, but at least she’ll know she has a choice, right? Mor’n I had before.” He put out a shaky hand for her to take. “I ain’t know how to thank you properly, Doc. I just hope when it’s your time to go, you remember back to this here moment. To how you made an old man happier than he’s been in a long, long time.”
The doctor took his hand and shook it lightly while the guard hovered nearby rolling his eyes.
After she moved off, Earl lay back on his bed. He could feel his heart beating madly. He breathed deeply, calming his weak chest.
Can’t die now, old man. Got to keep going. Got to keep going.
He looked over at Junior, who was staring at him from his bed. There was something in the other man’s look that Earl did not care for.
“Sumthin’ on your mind, Junior?” said Earl.
“What you got going on, old man?” said Junior.
“Anything I got going on ain’t any of your damn bizness, now is it?”
Junior eyed Earl with a smile. “Know you, Earl. I’m a damn killer. Killed bitches all over Alabama. Can’t help myself, just got to do it.” He tapped his head. “Up here. Wired funny, doctors say, not that the damn jury gave a crap about that.”
“Only thing funny ’bout you, Junior, is your face. Like a hog’s backside. That’s why you had to cut them gals up. They ain’t screwing somebody ugly as you without a knife to their throat.”
Junior did not appear to have heard him. “But you, Earl, now you are one sick son of a bitch. You are an evil prick and you got something cooking. I can smell it.”
“What I smell is a pile of crap, and it’s coming from your damn bed. You shit your sheet again like a damn baby?”
But Earl’s heart wasn’t in his zingers back at Junior. He didn’t like it that Junior was suspecting something. What if he told somebody? Made up shit? What would it do to his plan?
“I can smell it, old man,” Junior persisted. He smiled menacingly. “And I ain’t got nothing else to do ’cept think on it. Mebbe I figure it out. And if I do, mebbe I tell somebody, like the doc.”
“And mebbe they ain’t going to execute your ass, Junior. But I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.”
He looked away from Junior and hollered for the nurse. When she came over he said in a low voice, “I got me a phone call to make. You set that up for me, honey?”
“Who are you calling?”
Earl glanced over at Junior, whose eyes were once more closed.
“Some friends of mine. Feeling lonely. They say I get one call a day. Ain’t had none in four days. Can you do it for me, sugah?”
The nurse said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Earl smiled at her and said, “Now, I’ll be right here when you get back.”
She snorted at his quip and moved off.
The smile faded from Earl’s lips. He looked back over at Junior.
Not good. Not good at all.