The Contract Pass Around Wife Part 2
- 1 year ago
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While Joanna was dreaming, her brain was subconsciously sifting through recent events and trying to assimilate them.
The prom, and dancing with Kevin. Those were real, but should she really have slapped him so hard!
The meal and the hotel room and the movie and drinking too much. Those were real too.
The sex and waking up in Kevin’s arms. Those were impossible because Kevin was gay, but it was a very pleasant memory despite being only a dream.
Room service breakfast then checking out of the hotel. Real.
The cave and the grandmotherly old woman who woke her up to make her drink funny-tasting liquids. Those had to be a dream, or rather a nightmare.
The grandmotherly old woman asking about her virginity. Nightmare.
So when Joanna started to wake up, she had a firm belief of what had and hadn’t happened to her. Half awake, she realised she was sleeping on her back; she never slept on her back. Whatever she was wearing felt rough and scratchy; it wasn’t one of her nightdresses. The mattress was too firm; she wasn’t in her own bed. And there was a strange pinching sensation in her left arm.
Joanna yawned and stretched then opened her eyes. She was in a hospital, in a private room, wearing a hospital gown and hooked up to a drip. Her mother was sitting in a chair pulled right up to the side of the bed, her face looking tired and shrouded in worry.
“Welcome back, darling,” said her mother, breaking into a broad smile that seemed to wipe ten years off her in an instant. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess, but I’ve been having some weird dreams. Where am I?”
“You’re in the city hospital. You’re lucky to be here. A boy saved your life.”
“What happened to me?” asked Joanna. “Which boy?” She had feeling who it might be, but if real life was anything like as weird as the dreams had been, she didn’t want to let slip anything that might bring her sanity into question.
Yelena took Joanna’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “We’re not supposed to talk about it. Some government agents want to ask you some questions first. Your father’s here too, he just slipped out to fetch coffee.”
As if mentioning him had been enough to summon him, Armin entered the room bearing two coffees, one of which he handed to Yelena.
“She’s awake,” said Yelena unnecessarily, since Armin could see that for himself.
“Sweetheart, we were so worried about you,” said Armin, bending over to kiss Joanna’s forehead, something she couldn’t recall him doing since she was a little girl. Then he turned to Yelena, “Does the doctor know she’s awake?”
“No, she’s only woke up a few seconds ago.”
Armin pressed the call button and a short time later a nurse popped her head in the door. “Please could you page Dr Milland and tell her my daughter is awake,” Armin said, although his tone made it clear it was an order rather than a request. “She asked to be informed straight away.”
“Yes, Mr Kafkasian,” said the nurse, before scuttling away.
“Marcus will be in to see you later,” said Armin by way of conversation. “The doctors said you were out of danger, and with exams approaching and football training this evening, we agreed he should go to school today.”
Joanna knew full well that was probably her father’s decree rather than a group decision. But nobody had yet told her what had happened so she didn’t know how seriously ill she’d been.
It was probably about ten minutes before a doctor appeared, her name badge identifying her as Dr Renee Milland. “How are you feeling?” she asked Joanna.
“Okay, I guess,” Joanna replied. “I feel a bit thirsty and I’d love some coffee.”
Yelena looked at the doctor, who gave her a nod of approval. “Here darling, you can have mine. I’ve drunk so much coffee already today that I’ll be running to the bathroom every five minutes.”
“Thanks Mother,” said Joanna, accepting the offered take-away cup and sipping from it.
“You can have mine,” said Armin to Yelena, giving her his own coffee. “I need to make a phone call.”
While Armin was out of the room, Dr Milland asked Joanna a few simple questions to check she was compos mentis, then did a quick physical examination, the last part of which was checking Joanna’s blood pressure, which she did multiple times.
Armin was back in the room in time for Dr Milland’s verdict.
“I’m happy to say everything looks good, Miss Kafkasian,” said Dr Milland. “I’d like to keep you in another night and do some blood tests in the morning then, depending on the results, you might be able to go home tomorrow evening. After that you’ll have to take it easy for a few days but there shouldn’t be any long term effects.”
“Effects of what?” asked Joanna.
Dr Milland looked at Joanna’s parents. Armin shook his head.
“I’ll send a nurse in to remove the drip,” said Dr Milland, “then I’ll see you again tomorrow morning.” She turned and left the room.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” asked Yelena.
“I’d kill for burger and fries and a cola,” Joanna replied. Although her family often joked about wanting junk food, in practice they almost never succumbed to its temptations. And yet she felt so hungry that the idea of burger and fries sounded pretty good.
“Of course,” said Yelena. “I’ll get some from the hospital cafeteria.”
As her mother left, Joanna wondered whether she was still dreaming: she hadn’t really expected her mother to agree to junk food, let alone fetch it for her.
The same nurse as before bustled in and quickly and efficiently removed the drip. “There,” she said, “you can get up and move about if you want. Do you feel up to answering some questions? I told the FBI agents you’re awake.”
“My wife has just gone to get our daughter something to eat and drink and we’re awaiting the arrival of our lawyer. Please ask the FBI agents to wait,” said Armin.
“Yes, Mr Kafkasian,” said the nurse, before leaving the room again.
“FBI agents? Father, what is going on?”
Armin visibly sagged. “I just don’t know. You were kidnapped and some boy apparently saved your life but I can’t make any sense of it. What little I’ve heard sounds like a fantasy made up by someone tripping on drugs. The FBI have taken over the case and I shouldn’t even have told you this much.”
Joanna’s father always presented a facade of confidence and knowingness, so seeing him so disconcerted was surprising and worrying.
Yelena took nearly half an hour to get Joanna’s meal. “The burgers in the hospital cafeteria looked disgustingly inedible,” she explained, “but one of the receptionists directed me to a burger bar just across the street. Apparently it gets a lot of custom from the hospital.”
The burger was huge but Joanna wolfed it down. For some reason she felt really hungry, as though it had been quite a while since her last meal. Then she started sipping her cola.
“Do you feel up to answering questions from the FBI?” asked Armin. “If not, I can probably delay them for a while.”
“No,” replied Joanna. “Let’s get it over with, not that I know anything.”
Armin looked relieved at that. “I’ve asked a lawyer to sit in as well. You’ve done nothing wrong; his role is to keep a leash on the questioning if the agents try to browbeat you.”
The room was quite crowded with Joanna’s parents, Mr Slattery the lawyer, and the two FBI agents. The agents looked a lot younger than Joanna expected and could have been twins. They did announce their names but she didn’t bother to remember them.
“Miss Kafkasian,” said Mr Slattery, “the agents are here to question you as a victim. While I recommend openness and honesty in response to their questions, you have the right to protect your own interests and reputation. After an agent asks a question, I advise you to pause for a moment to give me the opportunity to intercede if necessary. And, while you’re answering, if I think it is going against your interests, I will lightly tap your arm as an indication you should stop to ask me for a consult. Are you happy with that?”
“Yes.” Joanna had already decided that her weird dreams were off limits, so she wasn’t planning on volunteering excessively.
“Miss Kafkasian,” said Agent 1. “Thank you for agreeing to talk to us. Please can you tell us everything you remember, starting from the prom.”
Mr Slattery nodded to show he had nothing to say
“Yesterday I went to the school prom for students in their penultimate year.”
One of the FBI agents made a loud intake of breath. The two looked at each other. “Sorry, please continue,” said the culprit.
“My partner was Jaymon Solassie. Cayenne Proctor, my best friend, went with Kevin Randell since her boyfriend, my brother Marcus, couldn’t make it. Before the prom ended, Cayenne decided she wanted to leave to go to a party, and Jaymon went with her since he thought she might need protection from older boys. I ended up dancing with Kevin. At the end of the prom he asked me out for a meal, saying that Cayenne had left her prom package receipt entitling him to use the limo. I pointed out that it also entitled us to a meal at the Mountview Deluxe Hotel. We went to the hotel, ate the meal then watched some television in the room. I decided to stay the night and Kevin left.”
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