The Cat Sitter's Nine Lives

25

It felt like I was waking from a dream as I made my way through the labyrinthian maze of hallways and stairwells at Sarasota Memorial. I hadn’t exactly planned on going there, but speeding up Midnight Pass from the Silverthorn Mansion, I found myself turning right onto Stickney Point and crossing over the bridge to Tamiami Trail. Then the next thing I knew I was circling around inside the multilevel garage next to the medical building looking for a parking place, and then suddenly I was headed straight for Baldy’s room.

I told myself I wouldn’t stay long. I was already in deep enough and I had my own life to think about—specifically, my date with Ethan that night. I wanted to keep it short and sweet so I could go home, take a shower, and get ready for a nice evening out with my man. Of course, even as I made my way through the lobby, I had no idea why I was there or what I was planning on being so short and sweet about.

When the elevator doors slid open at Baldy’s floor, it dawned on me that in some strange way I felt responsible for him. Sure, he’d put himself in the hospital with his crazy driving—that was nobody’s fault but his own—but I was the one who had pulled him out of his car, just the way you might free a chick that’s too weak to break out of its own shell. And just as a baby chick forms a never-ending bond with the first thing it lays eyes on, Baldy had taken one look at me and decided I was his dear, loving wife.

As far as I was concerned, it was my duty to see that he at least made it out of the hospital okay. Plus, I had a feeling that where he was headed next, kindness would not be in full supply.

When I rounded the corner to his room, I was surprised to find an armed guard sitting in a chair just outside the door. I should probably have expected that. Baldy was a criminal with probably a very high flight risk. My shoes squeaked on the shiny linoleum floor as I came to a stop. I considered turning right around and heading back for the elevator.

The guard stood up out of his chair and eyed me down the bridge of his nose. He wore black pants with white stripes down the outside seam, with a cop-blue, short-sleeved shirt with pockets on the chest. There was a black leather holster strapped to his waist, with the shiny black handle of a pistol poking out the top. He was big and muscular, the type of man you might find escorting a busty movie star through a crowd of frenzied paparazzi or standing next to a presidential candidate on the campaign trail.

His voice as deep as a bullfrog’s, he said, “Sorry, miss. No visitors.”

I said, “Oh, I’m Dixie Hemingway. Baldy … I mean, Mr. Vladim knows me.”

He held his hand up like a guard directing children at a school crossing. “I’m under strict orders. No one is allowed in this room unless authorized by hospital staff.”

I said, “No, you have to let me in. It’s important. Tell him Dixie Hemingway is here. I’m the one that—”

He interrupted. “I don’t have to do anything. If you want access to this room you’ll have to talk to the doctors.”

Just then I heard a voice over my shoulder. “What’s the problem?”

I turned to see a burly man with short-cropped black hair coming down the hall toward us. He was wearing green surgeon’s scrubs under a white lab coat, and when he saw my face his dour expression brightened.

He stopped in his tracks and held his arms open. “Hey, look! It’s Super Woman.”

I would never have recognized him in his surgeon’s clothes. It was the man from the head-on collision, the doctor who had helped me get Baldy out of his car.

The guard said, “This woman wants to visit Mr. Vladim, but I explained to her there’s no one allowed in this room but medical personnel. She’s leaving now.”

He nodded and then turned to me. From the pained expression on my face, he must have known right away that I wasn’t just there to shoot the breeze, because without missing a beat he thrust his open hand toward mine and said, “Dr. Hemingway, I’m Dr. Dunlop. I believe we’ve met before?”

As we shook hands he gestured toward Mr. Vladim’s door and said, “Shall we?”

The guard stepped back a little as Dr. Dunlop reached past him and opened the door to Baldy’s room. I met the bewildered guard’s suspicious frown with a solemn, doctorly nod. It took every ounce of self-control in my body to keep from sticking my tongue out at him, but I figured I would never have made it through medical school and become an important, world-renowned physician at the Sarasota Memorial Hospital by acting like a spoiled, immature brat, so instead I closed the door behind me with a polite smile and kept my tongue, quite literally, to myself.

Mr. Vladim was asleep on the hospital bed. His breathing was a little raspy, but slow and steady, and his complexion had improved since I’d first visited—it was rosier, and the bruises around his neck and face were almost gone. I was relieved to see that all the wires and IV lines had been taken away. Just a single tube remained, strapped to his left arm and leading to a clear bag of liquid on a hook behind his bed. I assumed it was probably a morphine drip.

I turned to Dr. Dunlop and whispered, “Thank you so much for that. I just wanted to see how he’s doing.”

He smiled and whispered back, “My pleasure. The guard is just a precaution. This guy’s not gonna hurt anybody. He might steal your wallet, but he’s on enough drugs to put an elephant to sleep. Anyway, he probably wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, thanks. I can’t believe you recognized me.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “How could I forget the woman that made me feel like a complete horse’s ass?”

As innocently as possible, I whispered, “Who, me?”

“Yeah, you. I’m a doctor. After that car accident, I was more worried about my BMW and my next appointment than this poor guy, especially the way he was weaving in and out of traffic. I don’t know what you do for a living, supermodel or something…?”

I smiled. “Ha. I’m a cat sitter.”

“Right, you’re a cat sitter. Of course. The cat sitter jumps out of her car and saves a man’s life. The doctor sits on his ass and checks his voice mail.”

I shook my head. “No, you showed up just at the right time. I don’t think I could have gotten him out of that car if you hadn’t helped me. You did the right thing.”

He smiled. “Thank you for that. I’ll go ahead and pretend I believe you.”

He stepped over to the side of Baldy’s bed. “Mr. Vladim, you have a visitor.”

Baldy opened his eyes and looked around the room. When he saw Dr. Dunlop, he smiled slightly. “Hello, Doc.”

“How’s the pain, buddy? Okay?”

He thought for a moment. “Level three.”

“Alright. I’ll leave you alone, then. Miss Hemingway is here to see you.”

Baldy’s eyes flashed at me, and immediately a look of fear spread across his face. He turned back to the doctor and said firmly, “I talk to her now.”

“Okay, then, I can take a hint. I was just leaving. I’ll be back to check on you later.” Before he closed the door he gave me a look and winked. “Let me know if he gives you any more trouble.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant Baldy or the guard or both. I pulled a chair up next to the bed, and Baldy rolled his head to the side and looked me up and down.

“I know you are not wife.”

I nodded. “No, I’m not. I tried to tell you.”

“Yes. But drugs, they make me dream bad things.”

“That’s okay. You got banged up pretty good, so they have you on a lot of painkillers.”

“You safe me from car, yes?”

“I did, and Dr. Dunlop was in one of the cars behind you. He helped me carry you out. Your car was crushed in on one side and there was a lot of smoke, so we lifted you out and I stayed with you until the ambulance came. You’re in a lot of trouble apparently. If it weren’t for Mr. Dunlop, they wouldn’t have let me in this room.”

He nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

I leaned a little closer. “Mr. Vladim. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“Yes, I know.”

“It’s about your wife.”

His eyes widened. I could tell he hadn’t been expecting that. He looked around the room and then shook his head, nervously running his fingers over the edge of his blanket. “I don’t know where she go. She leave me. We are not couple now.”

“No … you see, I’m a professional cat sitter. I got a call from—”

He eyed me warily. “Cat sitter? I don’t know this.”

“I look after people’s pets when they’re away on business or vacation. I got a call earlier this week from a woman who wanted me to help her find a friend’s missing cat.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “You look at cats, for money.”

I nodded.

“Why you tell me this?”

“This woman, the one that called me, her name is Alice Ann Silverthorn.”

His expression didn’t change; he just turned and stared up at the ceiling. In a couple of moments his eyelids fluttered slightly and his eyes welled with tears.

“I don’t know this name. I am tired now.”

“Mr. Vladim, are you sure?”

He pushed himself up on the pillow and glared at me. “I will call nurse. You are not allowed here. I am criminal.”

I said, “Listen, I haven’t told anyone anything, but your wife is very, very upset. I think she has no idea where you are.”

He had reached for the call button, but then he stopped and rested his head back down on the pillow. “No. I don’t know this. My wife is gone from here. We are not couple.”

I took a deep breath. “I think you should know that I lost my child when she was three years old. She was hit by a car and died instantly. There was nothing I could have done to save her, but believe me, Mr. Vladim, if there had been, I would have done it. Anything.”

He didn’t respond, just stared at the ceiling, and we sat there for a while like that, not talking. The IV drip’s timer made quiet clicks and sucking sounds every once in a while, and at one point there was a burst of laughter from the nurses’ station down the hall, but otherwise the room was completely silent except for Mr. Vladim’s slow, steady breathing.

Finally, he said, “We take boy to miracle doctor in Houston. They make promise he will find cure. But we must pay cash. Four thousand dollars every month.”

He paused, and I could tell he was trying to keep his emotions under control.

“If we don’t pay, he don’t help. This doctor. He lied. He was devil.” He turned to me. “Cat looker, you will deliver message?”

I nodded, fighting with all my might not to burst out in tears, because for the first time I realized that their child had not survived. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

“Tell her I am okay. They will take me to jail. I will tell police that I make her do everything.”

“And Mr. and Mrs. Silverthorn … do they know who you are?”

He nodded slowly. “My wife. She is third cousin of Mrs. Silverthorn. They help us, and for this we work for them. At first it was good arrangement, but now we are slaves. But Dixie, you must not tell.”

“I promise I won’t. Your wife will be very relieved to know that you’re okay.”

“Please tell her I have no choice. If I call they trace phone and take her to jail.”

“I’ll tell her. And if there’s anything else you need, let me know.” I stood up and put my chair back in place. “I’ll leave you alone now, Mr. Vladim, and I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

I turned and headed for the door, but he stopped me.

“Dixie. What you do with chocolate?”

I turned back to him. “Huh?”

“Chocolate. What you do with it?”

I said, “I’m confused. What chocolate do you mean?”

He raised one eyebrow, as if he thought I must be the dumbest person in the world. “The chocolate I put in your bag. What you do with it?”

I walked back to the side of his bed. “Mr. Vladim, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head as his face flushed red and his voice grew louder. “These women. They don’t listen. I told you don’t eat!”

“Mr. Vladim, I think perhaps you dreamed that. The drugs you’re on are very strong, and they can cause all kinds of—”

Just then the door opened and a nurse poked her head in. I could see the guard standing behind her. It was a different nurse this time, a skinny, older woman with spiky black hair and drooping eyes. Mr. Vladim was visibly shaken. His eyes flashed at the nurse and then at me.

The nurse frowned. “Excuse me, who are you?”

I said, “Um, Dr. Hemingway?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m afraid you can’t be here. There’s no one allowed in this room but medical staff. The guard should have told you that.”

I nodded, “He did, but Dr. Dunlop said it was okay.”

“Ma’am, I don’t know anything about that. All I know is you need to leave right now. If Dr. Dunlop wants you on the visitors list, he would need to talk to me. And the last time I looked, there were exactly zero approved visitors for this room.”

I turned to Mr. Vladim and nodded. “Don’t worry.”

He looked away, as if he didn’t want the nurse to know he had even talked to me at all.

The nurse tapped her foot and said, “Ma’am? Right now.”

I touched Mr. Vladim’s hand lightly and headed for the door while the nurse glared at me. I thought about how I’d made a promise to myself that the next time somebody called me ma’am, I’d sock them right in the mouth. I can’t say it was my proudest moment, but sometimes action speaks louder than words. As I passed by her, I made a face and stuck out my tongue.