Waking Rose: A Fairy Tale Retold

  They were watching another of the countless episodes of The Tale of Antioch when Kateri came into the lounge, clad in her usual blue denim. Fish could tell she was in high gear, her internal energy making her seem taller than her diminutive stature.

  “What’s up?” Alex asked, snapping the pause button. One couldn’t ignore Kateri Kovach when she came into the room with that air of expectation.

  “I just wanted to find out who’s coming to the protest tomorrow,” she said, looking around expectantly. Her hair was tied into a long rope of a braid, which twitched behind her as she waited.

  The guys looked at each other. “I’m planning on coming, at least to support you all,” James said hesitantly.

  This was apparently not the reaction she had hoped for. Carefully, she looked around the room, and then moved her pointed gaze to the leader, Alex. “Anyone else?”

  Alex shook his head. “I don’t think so, Kat. Sorry.”

  “Why not?” she said, a bit forcefully. “I thought this was something that you Cor guys would all be into. After all, it’s engaging in a battle, isn’t it?”

  Alex leaned back in his chair, his hands in a pyramid before him. “Not really. The first principle of war is to consider what fighting will accomplish. How certain are you that what you’re doing is going to accomplish anything?”

  Kateri planted her feet and counted on her fingers, “Number three—it brings the public spotlight onto a hospital that doesn’t deserve the high reputation it has. Number two—it questions the credibility of a director who is under suspicion for having assaulted one of our dear friends. Number one—it could save an innocent man’s life. How is that not accomplishing something, Alex O’Donnell?”

  Alex put his head to one side. “You know, when it comes down to it, Kat, I’m just not a passive resistor. I’m not going to just sit there and be dragged away by the police for my beliefs. If I was involved in something like this, it would have to be something I could really, physically fight for. Otherwise, I just don’t have the energy for it.”

  “And when are you ever going to be able to really fight for something, aside from resistance like this?” Kateri shot back, her eyes flaring. “What are you going to do? Charge into an abortion clinic with one of your samurai swords and slice heads off?”

  “Kateri,” Alex said, a warning note in his voice.

  “No,” said Kateri coolly, her black eyes a cold fire. “You’re not. I know you’re not a psychopath, Mr. O’Donnell. But don’t fool yourself into thinking that you’re waiting for a better chance to fight. You just don’t want a real fight, that’s all. You’d rather just watch movies and play video games.”

  Alex didn’t move, but Fish could see his muscles tense. Wincing, Fish had gotten to his feet. “Kateri, let me walk you back,” he said softly, hoping to defuse the situation.

  Perhaps the tone of his voice worked, because Kateri turned away, her braid snapping behind her in contempt over her sturdy shoulders. “So much for your knighthood.” She walked out of the room with pronounced disdain of a very Oriental type, leaving a perfectly silent room behind her.

  Fish followed her out of doors and down the sidewalk. The night air was not as crisp—the days were fast turning into spring, although the ominous threat of further chills remained.

  “Tell them I’m sorry,” Kateri said shortly, after a moment. “I’m disappointed. I expected far more from them.”

  Fish searched for a word of explanation or comfort, but found none. “I can understand that,” was all he said. Hoping to change the subject, he asked, “Is Donna doing this with you?”

  Kateri shook her head, her braid swaying. “No. I won’t let her.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re risking arrest. When that happens, sometimes, if the situation gets heated, you get roughed up by the cops. I don’t think she could handle that. She’s healing, but she’s not strong enough yet.”

  “That’s a good judgment call on your part.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I wish I could be there. I just found out I have to work at the university tomorrow.” He paused. “Your words about avoiding a real fight hit home for me, anyhow.”

  She glanced up at him. “You and Bear are up to something, aren’t you?”

  He was startled. “How do you know?”

  A small smile played around her usually inscrutable features. “We Kovachs have ways of finding out these things. Particularly things about the Briers, and those who marry them. Our spies are everywhere.”

  “Well, if you have any idea of what we’re up to, keep it to yourself,” Fish said.

  “Naturally.” She added, “Joking aside, you’ve been particularly preoccupied, in a different sort of way. That also gave me a clue.”

  “I see. And I’ve always been told that I’m very good at hiding things. I must have been flattered.”

  “Not at all. It’s just that I’m also good at hiding things, so I have a bit of insight into what it looks like.”

  “Kat,” he said, touching her arm as they reached the dorm. “You be careful when you go in there, tomorrow. Look out for Dr. Prosser.”

  “I know,” Kateri said stolidly, her dark eyes catching the reflection of the streetlights. “I understand what I’m risking.”

  “Maybe you do,” he said. “But it won’t stop me from worrying.”

  “I’ll call you when we’re done,” she said. “It should be on the news. That’s the job I gave Donna—call the media and make sure they get there.”

  “Phone me from the jail,” he said. “Make sure you have my cell phone number.”

  “I appreciate it.” And the short girl turned away, her stride defiant. He watched her go, then went back and rejoined his male companions.

  They had started the movie again. Fish made his way through the crowd and sat beside Alex, who was staring at the TV screen with a deep frown on his face. On the screen, an Asian girl who looked at least superficially like Kateri chopped her way through a band of assassins. Fish decided not to comment on the irony.

  “You know that Dr. Prosser has had Kateri investigated before?” Fish said casually after a moment.

  “I’d heard something about that, from Rose,” Alex said distantly, not looking at him.

  Fish paused. “She’s risking a lot by going into Dr. Prosser’s hospital,” he said. “I can’t be there tomorrow. She could use some support.”

  Alex’s expression was a bit tight, but he said nothing. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” was all he said at last.

  The English Department was hosting a symposium, and Fish was slated to work as the receptionist. It was a pleasant enough gathering, of visiting professors and speakers, and Fish was kept on his feet, doing minimal registration and directing the attendees to the right rooms. But he was edgy, and kept his cell phone on.

  In between talks, he wandered into the lounge and looked at the television. Around ten in the morning, the news started picking up the story of the sit-in at the hospital in Meyerstown. There were students outside the building carrying signs that read: “This Hospital Might Steal Your Organs” and “RGMH: If You’re Poor, You’d Better Be Dead.” Fish suspected Kateri had told them what to write.

  The protestors were being escorted or carried out. He thought he saw Donna and James in the crowd outside the hospital. But there was no sign of Kateri among the arrested.

  Then, at 1:00 p.m., they finally showed a picture of her being hauled out of the building in handcuffs. There was a brief interview where she said, “We did this to call attention to the plight of the poor who are being victimized by this hospital, including the unborn.”

  She looked a bit winded, but otherwise safe. He was relieved.

  Around two, he got a call on his cell phone from the police station. It was Kateri.

  “Kateri? How are you?”

  Her voice was tired, though he could tell she was in good spirits. “Okay. I have two phone calls I can make. I was wondering, Fish—could you
call my family for me if I gave you the number? I need to call my lawyer. The bail they arranged for me here is pretty hefty.”

  “I can imagine,” Fish said. “But don’t worry about the bail. I’ll call your family though, and tell them you’re safe. Then I’ll be right over.”

  21

  ...But one king’s son resolved, against all dire warnings, to pass through the thorns which had claimed the lives of so many...

  HIS

  Fish showed up at the jail a bit cautiously, making sure that Dr. Prosser wasn’t around. But there was no sign of her, or any hospital staff at the jail. The protestors were all sitting in a holding cell, and several more were in the office on the ground. Everyone was waiting to be arraigned, which was going on in the courtroom next door.

  Most of them were released on personal recognizance, promising that they would return for their trial, but Kateri, who, according to the hospital representative, was the instigator, was being held for $5000 bail.

  “Like I said, I’m paying it for you,” Fish told her.

  “You don’t have to,” Kateri’s eyes flashed.

  “Of course I don’t. But I’m going to,” he returned amiably.

  He paid the ten percent payment, and by evening, Kateri was free. She accepted Fish’s invitation to go to his apartment for dinner. Almost as if by some prearranged signal, Donna, Paul, and Alex all showed up in the parking lot of the jail. Fish invited them to come along, and called the Chinese food place back to increase the order. Kateri hadn’t wanted to discuss anything while they were still in the jail, and it was only when they were settled in Fish’s apartment with their food that she began to talk.

  “We’ve started a firestorm,” she said, her eyes glinting. “Donna, thanks for getting the media there. I heard they even interviewed another homeless guy who said that friends of his had died after going into the hospital to be treated for minor injuries.”

  “So what happened after you got inside?” Donna asked.

  Kateri blew out her breath. “Our group got into the hospital with the normal visitors, and most of us got up to the room where Milton was before the staff knew what was happening. We all had bike locks or handcuffs, and our idea was to fasten ourselves to the guy’s bedrail. I had one handcuff fastened to my wrist and the other cuff was open. But there wasn’t enough room on the bedrail, and it looked like that would detach, so I was running around getting everyone else fastened to the bed, when Dr. Prosser came in.”

  “Did she see you?” Donna asked.

  “Oh, she saw me,” Kateri said with a half-smile, “She was quite irate.” Fish, picturing the big woman, could well imagine it. “She grabbed me by the neck and shook me, screaming in my face. I went limp, and pointed out that she was assaulting me, but she just kept shaking me.

  “Then she saw my cuffs and seemed to get a bad idea. She got me on the ground and cuffed my hands together and then dragged me out of the room. I’d expected that, but then she pulled me into a side room, this narrow place with no windows. I was no fool—I was trying to yell for help, but she had me in there,” she shuddered, “before I could stop her. And—” she didn’t seem to want to go on.

  “How did you get away from her?”

  “Now, this is the odd part,” Kateri paused, and her eyes narrowed and fixed on Alex and Paul. Fish glanced at them, but they both seemed to be particularly focused on eating their food. “Just then, two med techs in scrubs and masks burst into the room, one short and one tall. The tall one said, ‘Dr. Prosser, the police are here. Do you want us to take this protestor downstairs for you?’ Dr. Prosser kind of sneered and said, ‘I’m teaching her a lesson first.’ And then the short tech said in this really nasty voice, ‘Then let me help you out.’ And he came up to me, and Dr. Prosser stood aside, and then—” Kateri paused, and looked up. To Fish’s surprise, her eyes were sparking and her tone was pointed. “And then he decked Dr. Prosser a hard one right on the chin!”

  “Oh my!” Alex said suddenly. “Shocking!”

  Kateri had folded her arms and looked severe. “She was out like a light. And then—the tall one picked me up and said in what was obviously intended to be a nasty voice ‘We’ll just take her down to the police,’ and picked me up and hurried out of there as fast as he could go.’”

  “Wow,” Paul said heartily. “Boy! Isn’t that swell?”

  Kateri paused, and squinted at Alex. “And then in the hallway, the short one said, ‘No, you’ll drop her,’ or something like that—and insisted on carrying me down himself.”

  Alex said, with a straight face, “I hope he didn’t pick up more than he could handle.”

  “That’s for him to decide,” Kateri said, not moving a muscle.

  The two of them locked gazes, until finally Alex broke out into a smile. “Then what happened?” he asked politely.

  “They brought me downstairs and were met by a pair of policemen. At which point I insisted on being put down. And the two techs mysteriously melted away into the crowd,” Kateri said, raising her eyebrows.

  Alex and Paul looked at each other, stifling grins.

  “Good job,” Fish said under his breath to Alex.

  “And so I got arrested right away, but they couldn’t get the rest of the people out of the bedroom for hours,” Kateri said, almost proudly. “My friend Sally who works for the local TV station got some great footage of it.”

  “They really did,” Fish said. “I saw the interview on TV. You were good.”

  “Thanks. I hope it helps.” A shadow passed over her. “I hope someone will intervene in Milton’s case. Or I hope he wakes up of his own accord.”

  “How did they make the hospital look?” Alex asked.

  “They tried hard to cover themselves by making the protestors and the homeless people look like nut cases,” Donna said, speaking up. “What else could they do? ‘I don’t think this man with a history of mental illness is a proper authority on how we treat our patients,’ the spokesperson was saying. I did notice that Dr. Prosser wasn’t available for comment,” she added.

  Fish was woken up late at night by a call on his special cell phone, which had a distinctive beeper. Awake at once, he checked the number and answered.

  “Alright, Ben, I have something for you.”

  “I’m ready, Hunter,” Fish said, grabbing his notebook.

  “The funnel for this market comes through Canada. There’s a middleman here who services mostly wealthy clients overseas who don’t trust their native organ banks. He has contacts with several hospitals and clinics on this side of the border. The organization is pretty tight. And fairly hard to break into.”

  “I see,” Fish said, writing this all down.

  “But this is where I might be able to help you out. I told you I was undercover. We’re closing in on a hospital in the city that’s been a significant source for certain controlled substances. One of the doctors there got in over his head and came to the DEA, who put me on the case. Now, I’m doing this doctor a lot of favors, and he’d probably be willing to do one for me. He knows this middleman in Canada, and he could put in a request for you. They’re very suspicious over there, and they won’t deal with anyone they don’t trust. However, this doctor of mine is above suspicion, in that regard, at least for now. Actually, this might be helpful to me to see where we are. If he puts in a request and they turn him down, I’ll know his cover isn’t good anymore.”

  “I see,” Fish said. “And I could get to the doctors on my end by...?”

  “If the request goes through, your organ client will be put in touch with the middleman. You can make up some excuse to get to the actual hospital you’re aiming to incriminate. Say you don’t trust the facilities, want to make sure it’s really being done right—the organ will be properly oxygenated, and so on. Then send a courier down—rigged—to check out the site and pass off the first payment.”

  “Sounds good. If you can set that up for me, I’d be grateful.”

  “You’d better be. But
like I said, this helps me out too.” The agent chuckled. “Otherwise, I’m not sure I could spare the time.”

  A few days later, the request came through, and Fish was on the phone constantly, setting things up, coolly adopting a persona he had used before.

  He played tough and suspicious on the phone, demanding to deal with a doctor, not some orderly who mopped up the surgery room. He maneuvered his queries to focus in on Robert Graves Memorial Hospital, and was told it was possible, but not certain, that there was a doctor there who would get the needed organ. “I don’t want to go myself,” Fish said in his criminal persona. “But I’ll send someone I can trust.”

  Which, of course, would be himself.

  He tried to pick the right moment, but he quickly realized that there was not going to be one. In the end, he simply walked into her office the first time he found her alone. “Dr. Anschlung, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to leave my position with you,” he said.

  Dr. Anschlung looked at him in shock, her eyes wide. “Ben. You can’t be serious.”

  “Unfortunately, I am serious,” he said, and swallowed. He knew how lucky he had been to have this job, to have the scholarship and the opportunities. Possibly, he wouldn’t have the chance to work with a scholar of her caliber again. But he knew that the risks involved for him at this point were too high. He had to be ready at any time to move, and the less commitments he had, the better.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again. “But my personal situation—it’s become too volatile. I feel that things will only get harder from this point on.”

  “Of course—I understand. Are you sure you can’t finish the semester?” she said wonderingly. “It’s only a few more weeks. I am sure we could work something out—bring you down to part-time—I could hire an assistant—”