Vacation [Matthew Costello] (fb2) читать постранично, страница - 5

dead, too.”

“I… I…”

“Jack. Easy. Let it rest. For now, hm?”

Now Jack looked away.

Suppose I should be grateful.

To be fucking alive.

He didn’t feel that way.

Are we losing this fucking war?

“I guess… I should just say thanks.”

Brandt nodded, shrugging.

Finally: “Captain, I know I can’t be out in the streets for a while. But I’d like to get back as soon as possible. Maybe some desk work. You’ll need all the officers you can—”

Brandt shook his head.

“Jack, how long has it been since you’ve had any time away from the job?”

“I don’t need any time. Soon as my leg is good, in a few weeks, I can—”

“You need a break, Jack. Let psych service see you. Get some counseling. You can’t just shrug this off. You have a lot of time coming.”

Jack arched his back up, raising his head off the pillow as much as he could.

“I don’t need any damn time.”

The nurse came into the room again.

“Officer, your family is downstairs, coming up now.”

Another smile from her, but it quickly evaporated as she sensed the tension in the room.

Brandt pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Yeah. I want you to take the time. Talk to your wife. A break. A vacation.”

Jack opened his mouth, but he knew Brandt well enough to know that an order was an order.

“Talk to Christie. Get away. The Can Heads will be here when you come back.” Another pause. “I need people like you, Jack.”

A boy’s voice echoed from the hospital hallway.

His son, Simon.

Brandt started for the door.

“Get better, Jack.”

Then he turned and left.

5. Christie

Christie watched Simon run ahead, down the hospital hallway, Kate walking tentatively beside her. She had worried how they both would react, seeing their dad in a hospital bed.

She and Jack had agreed to tell them only that he’d had an accident at work.

Their strong daddy took a nasty fall.

“Simon,” she said. Then louder, “Wait.”

Simon stopped. She looked down at Kate, who was three years older than her brother. Christie wondered whether her daughter suspected something more than an accident. There was no way, even in a protected area of Staten Island, that they could keep things from either of their children.

The times Kate tried to ask questions about his job, Jack changed the subject.

Eventually she stopped asking questions.

With Simon stopped, Christie saw Jack’s captain come out of the room. He smiled as she came close.

“Christie. I think… he’s coming along,” he said quietly.

“Captain, that’s good. I—”

“But, can I have a word with you?”

Christie looked down at the two kids. “Sure. Simon, Kate, you go in to your dad. Just don’t make a lot of noise. I’ll be right there.”

Simon bolted into the room. After a brief hesitation, Kate followed.

“I just wanted to tell you…” Brandt said. “I mean, I told Jack that he needs to take some time off. He’s not happy about that.”

Kate nodded. “I’m not surprised.”

“Right. He talked about desk duty. Something like that. I told him to do his rehab. Get better. Take some time off.”

Christie nodded.

“I said he needed to take a vacation. He has it coming.”

Christie pushed her hair off her forehead. “Do people still take those?”

“Yes. And he needs to. Maybe the family needs it. Look…”

Brandt reached into his back pocket and pulled out a glossy brochure.

“Look at this. Been posted in the precincts. It may be something he needs. You all need.”

Christie took the brochure, and stood there for a few minutes reading it.

* * *

“Where’s your mom?” Jack asked.

Kate stood rail straight, a few feet from the bed. Simon showed no such reticence, leaning right on the crisp white bedclothes, his eyes searching his dad’s.

“She’s talking to some man,” Simon said.

“Captain Brandt,” Kate added.

“You kids okay?” Jack said, smiling. “Getting homework done? Helping Mom?”

“I don’t like homework,” Simon said.

“When are you coming home?” Kate asked.

“Soon. Just need my leg to get better.”

“Mom said you had an accident.”

Kate. Eyes locked on. Face impassive.

My daughter isn’t buying any of this, Jack thought.

“Yeah. Took a bad fall out on patrol.”

He waited for Kate to say something more. Like: Are you sure it wasn’t some of those people? The ones the other kids talk about.

The people who eat people.

But whether it was seeing Jack in the bed or the fact that Simon was here, Kate didn’t go any further.

“Can I see it?”

Jack looked down to Simon, his arm on the bed and chin resting on a hand, studying Jack as if he were a museum display.

“See what, Simon?”

“Your leg. Where you hurt it.”

Jack laughed. “I’m afraid they have it wrapped up in a lot of bandages. Nothing to see.”

“They feed you here?” Simon asked.

“That’s a dumb question,” Kate shot out.

Jack gave her a look; she could be so quick to dump on Simon. Normal for a brother and sister, he guessed. Still, it always sounded harsh to him.

“Yes. Hospital food. Nothing you’d like.”

Funny, Jack thought, food was never far from anyone’s thoughts. All the synthetic nutrient substitutes, the soy-based products, the pretend PB&J sandwiches couldn’t hide the fact that food—the way it used to be—was hard to come by. For some, impossible.

Most of what was once common had turned into rarities.

And then Christie walked in.

* * *

Christie turned around and saw Simon poking at the balloons on the windowsill.

Kate looked down at the bed.

She saw Jack look at the kids and nod.

Back to Christie.

“So, what did Brandt tell you?”

She had her fingers interlocked with Jack’s. Jack wasn’t normally one for handholding, the random unexpected kiss. Not his style. She accepted that.

Just like she had accepted how strange life had become for both of them.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“To make sure you did your exercises. Get to physical therapy. He likes you, Jack. Wants you back as soon as you’re better.”

“And what else? What’s that in your back pocket? The department’s guide to dealing with recovering disgruntled spouses?” He took a breath. “Psych information?”

She reached into her pocket and took out the brochure.

“Psych is part of your rehab. You know that. But this…”

She handed it to Jack. For a minute, he thought it was a joke.

Jack read from the front of the brochure: “‘Paterville Family Camp. The place for a secure and safe family vacation in the beautiful Adirondacks!’”

He laughed. “You’re kidding me. ‘Safe and secure’?”

“Captain Brandt says you should—we should take a vacation. Get away from the city. Things aren’t so bad up there.”

“Says who?”

“Can you listen? It says: ‘Families visiting Paterville Family Camp will have the luxury of staying in one of our traditional log cabins, all with breathtaking views overlooking our crystalline lake.’ Crystalline… that’s good. Gotta love a crystalline lake.”

She watched Jack flip open the folded brochure. The first inner page was all about security.

“Look,” she said. “See—it’s reached only by one road, has two fences, an inner one, and then an outer electrified fence with twenty-four/seven guards.”

“Show me a place these days that doesn’t have fences.”

“And look—tons to do. Swimming, boats, hiking, fireworks.”

“Cookouts?”

“I knew you’d ask that. Families eat communally, and the camp has been able to grow its own produce. Has a mini-farm right on the property.”

“Really? No blight or drought? They should tell the damn government how they pulled off that trick.”

He glanced at the kids.

Tone it down, he told himself.

Christie felt her forced smile and cheerful attitude fading. Jack could be a rock when his mind was made up. Probably what made him such a good cop. But as a father, a husband…

She leaned close. “Look at your kids. Tell me, have they even seen a lake, a real lake for swimming?