The Distance Between Us -  Chapter One

--Chapter One

        In the pre-dawn grayness, the blue haze of a TV flickered. Voices of reporters rose quietly from it, as if tentative about disturbing the unnatural silence in the hospital. They were interrupted every few seconds by a sharp fitz as the station was switched from one newscast to another; a continuous rotation. The faces changed, the wardrobe, the sets, but the top story stayed the same - the great drug bust on the east side docks. The channels continued to flip, an endless rotation of different newscast...but that morning, all the same. Who could have known that one crime would make such an impact in the big city.

     She had.

     She was curled delicately in a chair, with one hand wrapped around a cup of coffee, and the other around the TV remote - a young, slender girl dressed all in black. She knew the job was a mistake before it even happened. But Mark didn't listen to her. He never listened. With a yawn, the girl briefly forgot the TV, and, setting the coffee beside her, stretched her arms behind her head in a long luxurious motion...giving the distinct impression of a black cat come to life, or maybe a Siamese. With another yawn, she rested her head back against the chair and gazed out the lone window, to the streetlamp beyond. She had warned Mark his plan wouldn't work - had warned him that it was too big, too dangerous, too stupid, but he just wouldn't listen. Whether it was pride or stubbornness she couldn't say. It was like he had a personal vendetta against the world that he was forever trying to fill. Only this time it wasn't the world paying.

     Leaning forward, she rubbed her eyes - tired from lack of sleep, and then moved her gaze to the hospital bed beside her. Wolf was lying there, motionless in stock blue nightgown and under hospital pressed sheets. Her other half. He looked thinner than when she last saw him, and his face was so pale it was almost white. Even his black hair appeared limp as it spread across the pillow. His eyes were tightly shut, and no life at all played across his features. If it weren't for the heart monitor filling the room with it's steady, comforting rhythm, she could have mistaken him for dead. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and rubbed them, hoping in some private spot that if she rubbed hard enough the scene in front of them would go away. But it didn't. When she opened them again she was greeted with the same cold white room - the same flower print wallpaper, dragged and faded, as if a little of it's color had accompanied every lost patient. She wondered if it would be even more faded by the time she left. She sighed and put her head back against the chair, closing her eyes to the world around her. A moment later she was alert again as a sharp hiss rose from the oxygen machine. She looked at Wolf, a knot forming in her stomach. Tense, she waited...the machine returned to its regular intervals of hisses. With a heavy sigh, she stood up and moved over to the bed.

      "I'm sorry Wolf," she said, sitting on its edge, "So sorry." She took his hand in hers. It felt limp and lifeless in her grasp. The skin was cool. Her grip on it tightened. "I should have been there, I know. I should have done something I should have-" she stopped, realizing what she was saying. "I should have what? What could I have done?"

      She let go of Wolf's hand and stood up. If she had been there, she would have probably been shot too. They both could be dead and it was all Mark's fault. She wrapped her arms around herself in a protective hug and went to the window, where she stood and looked out at the lightening landscape beyond. The parking lot was visible below now drab and colorless. A bitter sneer appeared at the side of her mouth. They both could be dead, and Mark wouldn't even spring for a decent hospital. The sneer disappeared quickly though, as she knew the complaint held no weight. Mark took Wolf to the most run- down, needy place in the area for a reason...no one asked questions. That was Mark all right, always looking at the bottom line, even with them. They weren't people to him, they were just possessions. Her thin brows furrowed into a frown. What was he going to think when one of his possessions walked back into his life. Was he going to be happy to see her, or was he going to try and strangle her? Pressing her forehead against the cool glass, she shut her eyes, and retraced the last days before she left...what had she done? She squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to remember. Did she tell Mark she was going to leave - did she hint at it at least?...No...no she hadn't. All she had done was scratch a note one night and slip out the window. No explanations, and no goodbyes. The note wasn't even the truth, it was just some hurried excuse she thought of. Did Mark know it was a lie? Wolf would have, she was sure of that, but Mark? Probably not. She opened her eyes and looked again at the cheerless parking lot. The sun had risen now, and the wet cement was beginning to dry. Two children ran, bouncing towards the hospital. A crow grappled with a crumpled MacDonald's wrapper. A scratched black corvette squealed out of the parking lot. Life went on as usual, impervious to her presence. It was the note that she regretted. She regretted how fast she had written it, how cold and unfeeling it must have sounded when it was read. How untrue it must have sounded. But how could she have told the truth? How could she have possibly told Mark that she was scared - that it was a deep, nagging terror hounding her day and night, and she was running - fleeing in a desperate attempt to be free of it. How could she have told him that, when she didn't even know what she was scared of. She couldn't, and that's why she lied. Now, standing there in the hospital room, staring down at a drying parking lot, forced back into the life she tried to leave, the whole episode seemed so meaningless. It hadn't even gotten rid of the fear. It made it worse. She turned away from the window, taking a deep breath. What was Mark going to think?

       Her ears suddenly picked up the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Turning quickly, she faced the door. There were two sets - the louder one she recognized as the clump of heavy soled army boots. Mark. Her heart beat a step faster. She stepped backwards, slightly out of line of the door. The footsteps reached the room and the door swung open...a nurse walked in, followed by Mark...

      "...We managed to get most of the bullet out," the nurse was speaking, as she breezed over to the bed, "the wound was deep, but it didn't sever any arteries..."

      Mark followed in behind her, listening. He didn't notice AL. She didn't announce her presence, but instead, stood back and observed him. He was still the same man she knew, the same one she left. He was big, and muscled, and he still had that stupid go-tee. She never liked that go-tee. It was so cliche. He stopped by the bed, his features intense as he listened to the nurse continue.

     "It'll take some time to recover, but he should be fine..." She stepped sideways and suddenly noticed AL. "Hello dear, you're the one from last night, aren't you?" AL nodded, not taking her eyes off of Mark as he turned her direction. He saw her and froze.

      "AL."

      His eyes locked with hers. AL saw the deadly flecks of steel begin to spark. She didn't flinch at his gaze. Instead she returned it with one equally as cold, "Hello, long time no see."

     Mark tensed.

     The nurse wavered, "You know each other?"

     "Yes," Mark said, "We had an unexpected departing a few months back."

      His stance was rigid and his tensed shoulder muscles showed through his shirt. AL knew that if the nurse weren't there, he would have been yelling, shouting until the whole hospital shook with his voice. But the nurse was there, and his voice was hard and tightly contained, like a lid on a pot of boiling water. AL remained indifferent.

      "It wasn't unexpected if you were paying attention."

     The nurse glanced again from one to the other, and then with a nervous cough, turned her attention to Wolf. Mark crossed his arms, the corded muscles tensing. "So, AL, what brings you here?"

     "The same thing that brings you." She moved her gaze purposely to Wolf. Mark followed her gaze. It fell on the hospital bed...his face softened. His gaze lingered there for some moments, and then moved back to AL. His voice was heavier when he spoke.

     "When did you get back AL?"

     "Last night."

     "Last night? You left before-"

     A loud squeal of sirens erupted from the TV. AL jumped at the sudden noise and faced it. Another news report on the drug bust played across the screen. She glanced at Mark and met his eyes, and both gazes darted to the nurse. Whether they liked each other or not, they were in it together. AL glided quickly to the TV, reached it and clicked the channel to a Tom and Jerry cartoon. The nurse glanced up at the sudden eruption of noise, gave a puzzled frown, and returned to her duties without questioning.

     Mark continued his thought. "You were in town when you found out. You came back before the " he stopped himself just before saying 'job' and glanced quickly at the nurse. She hadn't noticed. He looked back at AL, "You had to have been in town before it happened."

     "I knew the date. I came back in case."

 "How long have you been here?"

  She didn't like that line of questioning. She didn't want to tell him.

   "How long AL?" 

     AL looked at him...his six foot six frame, his shirt clinging tightly to hard muscles, the stone jaw, the cold eyes...and felt suddenly very tired. Her earlier bravery and smugness faded. She was just so tired. She didn't want to fight with Mark. Not yet. The nurse straightened and looked like she was ready to leave. Ignoring Mark, AL stepped forward.

      "Excuse me ma'am, I overheard you when you came in. You said something about getting the bullet out?" Mark tensed beside her. She ignored him.

     "Yes," the nurse said, writing something on her clipboard, "We had to operate but we got most of the bullet out. He should be fine"

     "Then he'll be okay if I leave him? I want to get some air. It's been a long night."

     "He'll be fine. Walk around a bit."

     AL willed a smile, "thanks," she slipped by Mark and left the room. The smile dropped the instant the door closed behind her.

     Stepping into the open air of the outdoors, AL took a deep breath. A breeze blew from the parking lot, carrying with it the smell of car exhaust and hot oil. AL didn't care she was just glad to be out of the dark interior. Moving from the shade of the doorway, she paced to the end of the cement entranceway. She crossed her arms and stared out at the sea of cars, squinting against the glint of colors. The sun beat down on her black tank top - reassuringly warm. She stayed in that spot, and waited. There was a hiss from the sliding doors as they opened and then the familiar footsteps. They moved across the cement and stopped behind her. She waited for him to speak, and when he didn't, she snapped,

     "What are you waiting for? Go on, shout, scream, lose you temper."

     There was silence, and then a shuffling. She glanced and saw Mark stride by her, crossing to the other side of the entrance. He rested heavily on a cement planter, gazing out towards the sky. His face took on a distant look. AL waited impatiently. She had expected him to storm out of the hospital and start yelling, cursing, hurling abuse. Instead, he was leaning on a planter, staring at a blue sky. The mistrust in her eyes grew stronger.

    "I told you that plan wouldn't work." 

    Mark lowered his gaze to his hands. He stared at the scarred, nicked skin and gave a tired sigh. "I don't need your I-told-you-so's AL."

     "Too bad. You're going to get them."

     He gave a soft laugh, then looked back at the sky. "Man, not even back a day and already starting with the attitude."

    "I only start with people who deserve it."

    "I didn't shoot him AL."

    "You were the reason he was there."

    Mark pushed off the planter and faced her. "I don't need this AL. If you're going to give me an attitude then leave."

    AL eyed him. He looked tense, harassed. Anger, that was what she was used to. She didn't see anger. She saw a man that was worn, stressed, and drained. She didn't see Mark. Crossing her arms in a protective hug, she looked away,

    "No. I'm not leaving Wolf in his condition."

    "Is he the only reason you came back?"

    "What else is there. You?"

    "No. I wouldn't expect you to come back for me."

    "Good, because I wouldn't. You could die for all I care."

    "Fine."

     Startled by the tinge of hurt in his voice, AL looked at him. His large frame was slouched heavily on the planter, and he stared down at his clasped hands as if they held the answer to his problems. She looked away again, glaring out at the parking lot to the trees that lined the road, and the brick apartment buildings behind. She wished he would lose his temper. At least anger was familiar, anger she understood. She looked up, putting her arms into a protective hug.

     "What...what are we going to do?"

     "When did it become we again?"

     "I'm here aren't I."

     "For how long? A week, a month, a year?"

     She scuffed her toe against the rough cement, "I don't have anywhere else to go. The police will come after me -"

    "You weren't in on the job."

     "Not this one, but I was in on the others. They'll come after me. You have effectively made me prisoner."

     "I didn't make you do anything. You came back on your own."

     She avoided looking at him. "Fine. Believe what you want."

     He looked back at the sky, "You really have some nerve AL. You leave without a word, and then think you can just waltz back in. You have some nerve."

     "Are you saying you won't let me back?"

     There was another long pause. A bird jumped from the bush in the planter, vaulting skyward with a flurry of wings. A slammed car door echoed in the still summer morning, and the occupants voices could be heard somewhere in the distance. AL waited for Mark's answer. He finally pulled his gaze away from the sky and looked at her. His eyes met hers, and she was struck by how worn he looked. His face was haggard and dark circles entrenched his eyes. She could have mistaken him for someone else. He kept the lock for a few moments, and then turned away. He pushed off the planter, straightening.

     "No. Like you said, where else do you have to go?" With that, he turned his back to her and started into the parking lot.

     AL stood in the sun and watched his receding back. The uneasiness was growing, and the knot in her stomach tightening, She watched him until he was nothing but a dark speck, and then turned back for the doors. She needed coffee, she decided, lots and lots of coffee.