Knock Out

38

“IS ANYONE THERE? How can I know if anyone’s there if I can’t Yes, I’m here, Mr. Backman. I’m sorry about the blindfold. I’m your nurse, Cindy Maybeck. Do you need anything, sir?”

His voice sounded weak, querulous. “I need you to take off this ridiculous blindfold.”

“ I’m sorry, sir, but I was told to leave it in place, for my own pro-tection, not that I believe it, but I have to follow orders. Let me take your pulse, listen to your heart.”

Blessed felt her lift his wrist, place two fingers against the pulse, “It’s that hick sheriff; he’s torturing me because we had a disagreement. Here I’m old enough to be his daddy and he’s afraid of me. Isn’t that a kick? Listen, how would you like to lie in darkness, Nurse, with your hands strapped down? I can’t even scratch my nose. It’s inhu-mane, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Backman. I was told—”

“I hurt; I hurt real bad.”

“Now, sir, you had a shot of morphine not an hour ago. Why don’t you try to sleep? Sleep will make you heal faster. You want me to scratch you anywhere?”

Blessed hissed out a moan but didn’t say anything more.

Cindy took his pulse. Nice and slow and regular. Then she put a cuff on his good arm and a stethoscope below it. He had good pressure, a little on the high side but nothing to merit alarm. She straightened, looked down at him. She said softly, “Don’t cry, Mr. Backman, you’re getting the blindfold wet.”

He sobbed.

“You’re going to make yourself all itchy if you don’t stop crying, Mr. Backman.”

“Just wipe my eyes for me, Nurse. Please. What can I do? My hands are tied down, I’m helpless.”

She held herself silent for a few seconds. She’d heard Dr. Truitt say all of these precautions were ridiculous; he was an old man, for God’s sake. But then the sheriff and the FBI agent had told everyone not to remove his blindfold and why. He could hypnotize someone instantly? She’d never heard of such a thing. She agreed with Dr. Truitt. This poor old man, shot twice, helpless as a foal—she said, “I really shouldn’t, I’d be disobeying orders. Oh, all right, but only for a moment. It’ll be our secret, all right? You promise you won’t tell anyone?”

His voice was liquid with tears. “I swear I won’t say anything, Nurse.”

Cindy eased the blindfold over the top of his head. She wiped away his tears. Real tears, she saw, and she knew Dr. Truitt was right. This poor man couldn’t do anything to anybody. She studied his pale face for a moment. No, surely he couldn’t—Blessed Backman opened his eyes and looked up at her.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re quite pretty, all that blond hair. Is it real?”

“Yes,” Cindy said, “from my grandmother.”

“You’re a pretty, helpful girl. Unfasten the straps on my wrists.” He smiled up at her.

Cindy didn’t hesitate. She unfastened the straps and straightened to stand next to the bed, unmoving.

Blessed slowly eased onto his side, pressed his palm to his bandaged shoulder, and sat up. He winced, cursed softly. Cindy said, “Can I help you?”

He looked up at her and smiled again. “No, thank you, Nurse. That is much better. Now, I want you to bring my clothes.”

Cindy walked over to the patient’s closet that held his shirt, trousers, and shoes. She pulled them off the hangers. “I don’t see any underwear or socks,” she said.

“It’s all right. Bring them to me now.”

Cindy turned back with the clothes over her arm.

“I want you to go outside and talk to that guard, distract him; you’re pretty enough to turn the head of a dead man. Flirt with him, keep him busy until I call you. Then you can bring him in with you, all right?”

“All right.”

In the hospital room next door, Savich, Ethan, and Dr. Hicks were watching them. Savich said, “Well, that didn’t take long. Do you think Dr. Truitt will believe us now?”

“You said Dr. Truitt is a skeptic, Savich. He could say this was all performance.”

“Good, you sound just like a defense attorney,” Savich said, “We’ll play it out some more, until and unless he acts against the nurse, then we move fast.” But he didn’t want to. Savich watched Cindy Maybeck walk out of the room, knew she wasn’t really there in her own head. Still, letting this go on was a risk, but he prayed it was it was a manageable risk. He forced himself to set aside all his doubts and fears. He drew in a deep breath. They watched a middle-aged man, thin and scrawny, his shoulder and arm hugely bandaged, slowly swing his over the side of the bed.

“I can’t believe he can move around as well as he can,” Dr. Hicks said. “Maybe along with his abilities, he’s also able to influence his own body somewhat.” He shrugged. “Who knows?”

They watched Blessed Backman slowly stand up and strip off the puke-green hospital gown, wincing and weaving a bit. They watched him awkwardly pull on his pants, then stare at the shirt. There was no way he could get himself into it, not with his shoulder bandaged so thickly, not with the pain the movement would cause him.

Blessed called, “Nurse, come here, please.”

Cindy opened the door and came in. She never looked away from his face. He said, “I need you to help me into this shirt.”

She did. He swore the whole time. They could see the pallor, the beads of sweat on his forehead. “He’s in pain,” Dr. Hicks said, “but he’s still functioning. Amazing.”

Blessed asked Cindy, “Where are my shoes?”

“I left them in the closet.”

“Get them for me.”

She did. She went down on her knees and helped him into his shoes.

“All right. I want you to ask the deputy to come in here, tell I you’re concerned that I might be getting free and you want him to check on me.”

Cindy nodded and turned to leave the room.

“That’s it,” Ethan said, and he and Savich were out of the room in a second flat. “You will stay outside,” Savich told him. “No arguments.” Savich walked past Nurse Maybeck into the hospital room to see Blessed reaching for his watch on the side table.

It was all on film.

“You!”

“Yeah, it’s me, your worst nightmare, Blessed. Go ahead, give me your best look, come on, give it a try. Sorry, not going to happen. Party’s over. That was some performance you gave us.” He nodded up at the camera, Blessed’s eyes following his. Savich didn’t think he could hypnotize people on the other side of the camera, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. He blocked his view. He looked over the nurse, who was looking blankly at nothing at all, simply standing outside the doorway. Savich said to Blessed, “Get your clothes back off and I’ll help you with the gown.” Savich stripped him down because Blessed was cursing him, trying desperately to stop him and not succeeding. Blessed yelled to Nurse Maybeck, “Help me, Nurse. Help me!”

“What is that agent doing to him? Let me go!”

But Ox grabbed the nurse by her arms and lifted her bodily onto his shoulders to get her away from the room.

Savich got Blessed back into the hospital gown and flat on his back. Blessed stared up at him, panting with pain, his eyes burning wild and hot in his white face. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to skin you and make a lamp out of your hide. I’m going to bury you so deep no one will ever—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Savich forced the straps around his wrists, clipped them to the bed railings, and slipped the blindfold back over his eyes.

“It’s okay Ethan, you can come in now.”

“This is amazing,” said Dr. Hicks, who stood in the doorway beside Ethan. He stared from Savich to Blessed, who was still panting from the pain. “That was the most incredible psychic phenomenon I’ve ever seen.”

Dr. Truitt appeared next to him in the doorway. “They paged me. What’s happening here?”

A half-dozen hospital personnel were soon clustered around Dr. Truitt, looking from Savich to Blessed Backman, who lay on his back, moaning, blindfolded, his wrists strapped down.

Ox stood beside the bed, staring down at Blessed Backman like he could kill him and enjoy it. Savich turned to the hospital staff. “It’s over now. We do have a little something to show you, Dr. Truitt, you and the staff. It’s a video in the next room. You’re in living color, Blessed. Maybe this will help keep you in solitary confinement for the rest of your miserable days.”

Ethan said, “I don’t suppose there’s a prayer of keeping all this away from the media?”

“We can try,” Dr. Hicks said. “Some of these people won’t want to confess to another soul that they saw a man take over another per-son’s mind so easily. Some simply won’t believe it. But the media will sensationalize any hint of psychic powers. Even if no one believes it, they’ll come like locusts.”

But Savich knew it would get out, knew Blessed’s family would find out fast that they had him. What would they do?

Cindy Maybeck stood beside Ox, rubbing her arm where he’d hit her. She’d recognized him when he’d first arrived with Sheriff Merriweather. He’d given her a parking ticket last year. She looked up at him. “Why did you hit me?”

“Because that nice old codger took away your brain for a while. You’ll okay now. Do you have a headache?”

She shook her head, frowned. Ox knew she didn’t understand, but maybe she would when he explained it to her over dinner at Marlin’s Mexican if she said yes. He’d also teach her how to parallel park.