Tides of Peril

Sam and Emily lay asleep in adjacent beds, both hooked up to IVs. Sam looked like a wounded soldier recovering from injuries on the front line. He had a swollen face, black and blue eyes, a nose splint, shoulder sling and a wrapped elevated leg.

  Emily rested with a few bruises and a bandage on her forehead concealing stitches.

  Near the door outside their room, Maddie and two men were at a table with an album of mugshots and papers sprawled on the top. One man was a formally dressed caucasian wearing a tie, and the other was a Hispanic man dressed in uniform. Maddie concluded speaking as both closed their notepads. "I hope you can find them," she said.

  "You've been extremely helpful. We'll do all we can to apprehend this ring," the Hispanic man said, as he handed her a business card that read, Detective Garcia, Chetumal Central Policia. "If you think of anything else that can be useful, please contact me directly."

  Maddie handed the pen back to him. "Keep it," he said. "It also has my contact information."

  She clipped the pen inside her shirt, as the other man reached in his jacket pocket and withdrew an envelope. "I almost forgot, compliments of the United States Government."

  "What's this?" she asked, then opened the envelope. "Oh my God, thank you so much," then threw her arms around the man. It surprised her to see the four plane tickets.

  Maddie waved as the elevator doors closed with the two men inside. Several nurses reviewed charts and performed small talk behind a circular counter across from the patients rooms. A middle aged woman watched the two men leave. "Excuse me, I've got to make a phone call," she told the other nurses. Then she strolled down the hallway for privacy.

  Maddie went back into the room and sat on the edge of Sam's bed. "Sam?" she whispered, giving him a kiss on the side of his bandaged lip.

  "Maddie?"

  "How do you feel?" she asked.

  "Where are we?"

  "We're in Chetumal, the capital of Quintana Roo."

  "Still in Mexico. I was afraid of that."

  "How do you feel?" she asked, again.

  "I've felt better. Where's, Em and Jake?" Sam's speech was slow and painful.

  "She's right here. Jake went to check on the little girl's condition. He should be back soon."

  "What time is it?" he asked.

  "You've both been sleeping since we got here the other night," she answered, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's 8:00 in the morning."

  "The other night?" He was surprised he had slept for so long.

  "Yeah, they had you pretty well drugged up."

  Jake sauntered into the room. "Dad, you're awake." Then he pounced beside him.

  Sam screamed out in pain, "Ouch! Careful."

  "Still a wimp, I see," Maddie jested.

  Sam carefully cocked his head toward Emily. "How is she?"

  "They had to pump her stomach and give her some stitches. Other than that, they said she'd be as good as new," then added, "They're gonna let us go home this morning if you two are feeling up to it." Maddie showed him the plane tickets.

  "One-way," he said.

  "Would you rather it be round-trip?"

  Sam attempted a laugh, but he was still in too much pain. "I can't wait to get back home."

  Jake rushed to the closet and reached in his pants pocket. "Here, Mom, I don't think I'll be needing this anymore," then handed Maddie a pocket knife.

  "Where did you get this?"

  "I found it laying on the floor in the police car."

  Maddie placed the knife in her shirt pocket with the pen and business card.

  Jake sprung to Emily's bedside. "Em, are you awake?" he whispered, giving her a slight nudge.

  "I am now. Where are we?" Emily's speech was docile.

  Jake kissed her on the cheek. "We're all safe. We're at the hospital."

  Emily struggled to focus through the bright light. "My brave squirt."

  Maddie rested her head on Sam's chest and whispered, "I love you."

  Sam forced a smile, "I love you, too. Things are gonna be different from now on, I promise."

  "They already are. A new beginning," she whispered, then gave him another kiss.

  "Yeah, a new beginning."

  It was a moment of reunion and assurances. Maddie and Emily expressed appreciation to Sam for protecting their family. They renewed vows of love, and assured each other nothing could take that away from them. Jake told his father how he was the best dad in the world, and how he could take on any dad in a fight. Sam felt larger than life, receiving medals of valor from the hearts of his family.

  A few hours later, the doctor and a nurse entered the room. The doctor pressed a button and Sam's leg lowered to the bed. "How do you feel," he asked.

  "I feel like going home."

  ###

  Fresh cut grass provided a canvas of manicured bushes with an array of orchid species outlining the entrance to the hospital. An orderly wheeled Sam out from the glass plate doors of the hospital into the long awaited sunlight. Emily held his crutches while Jake held his hand. "I think we can get it from here," Maddie told the orderly, then thanked him.

  "Home free," Sam mumbled with a sigh.

  Being helped out of a wheel chair into a Jeep ahead of them, Sam called out, "Ramona? José?"

  The man and woman turned. "Si?" Recognizing Sam and his family, Ramona and José flashed a smile. "My friends, you're all okay," Ramona said.

  "How are you feeling?" Sam asked, as Maddie wheeled closer to them.

  Ramona reached for Sam's hand. "Thanks to you and your family, I'm back with my husband. This is, José."

  "Yes, we've met," Sam said.

  "Yeah, he's our hero," Maddie added, with a proud grin and a kiss to his cheek.

  Ramona's eyes moistened. "God will always protect you. Just remember that."

  José then added, "So you're the ones she described. I wasn't sure, but I figured it might be you. Thank you for saving my Ramona. I knew she didn't run off with another." He started to choke on his words. "You have filled my years of empty heart with happiness, and I'm indebted to you forever. May God bless you, my friends."

  "Just look after each other. We don't usually get a second chance in this life," Sam said.

  Ramona unhooked a cross from around her neck and reached for Sam's hand. She placed it in his palm, then closed his hand into a fist. "God is always near."

  Sam's face twitched, holding back tears, as José started the engine. "We'll never forget you," he said. Then drove away from the curb.

  "Who was that?" Emily asked.

  "Just a dear friend we met along the way," Maddie answered.

  A taxi that had been parked behind the Jeep idled up in front of them. The orderly rushed over and opened the doors. "I got it," Jake said. "Thanks."

  The orderly shuffled back to the entrance of the hospital and waited near the door. Emily and Jake climb in the backseat, while Maddie strapped the seatbelt around Sam then gave him a kiss. "You really are our hero," she whispered in his ear. "I love you so much."

  Maddie placed Sam's crutches in the trunk, but before she could slam it closed, a female voice asked, "Need some help with that?"

  "No, we're all set," Maddie answered, then latched the trunk.

  Maddie's attention was turned toward a flock of birds taking flight from a nearby tree. It gave her an eerie feeling. "Are you sure?" she heard, again.

  Maddie turned away from the trunk and glanced up. Standing just feet away, was a woman with a cane and sunglasses reaching into her purse. She looked familiar, but when she brandished the pistol, Maddie knew for sure. "Hey, what's going on?" the orderly yelled from the hospital doors.

  Andrea pointed the pistol at the orderly and fired. He grasped his shoulder and fell to the ground. "Mom!" Emily and Jake screamed.

  Sam heard the gunshot, but unable to turn, yelled, "Maddie."

  Maddie's instincts took over. The new beginning would have to wait. Andrea turned the pistol toward Maddie, but Maddie reacted with a slap to the barrel. Th
e pistol flew from Andrea's hand and landed in the nearby grass. Andrea raised her cane to take a swipe at Maddie's head, but before she could swing, Maddie reached and filled her fists with Andrea's hair, spinning her to the grass. Maddie leaped on her, and rocked vicious blows to Andrea's face. They exchanged grips around each other's necks, when Andrea finally worked her way on top of Maddie. She pressed her thumbs into Maddie's throat, when Jake ran and clung to Andrea's back.

  Maddie slapped and clawed Andrea's face, but Andrea held tight like a Pit Bull, ignoring Jake's grasp on her. Laboring for air, Maddie felt in her shirt pocket to retrieve the knife Jake had given her, but it was empty. She thought it may had slipped out during the struggle. All she could feel was the pen the officer gave her, still clasped in her shirt. "Get off her," Jake kept yelling.

  Maddie remembered the news report in the marina restaurant how the old man was brutally murdered with a pen. She grasped it tight, then plunged it into Andrea's neck. "Back to hell, bitch."

  Andrea released her grip cursing in Spanish. Maddie plunged the pen a second time into her neck. Andrea cupped her neck around the pen. Blood flowed between her fingers, as she fell back off Maddie. Maddie sprung to her feet, and clutched Jake. "Are you all right?" she asked.

  Jake brushed himself off. "Yeah, never better," he answered, then rubbed his face.

  Maddie glanced at the orderly being carried through the doors by doctors. "Let's go home," she said. "I don't want to stay another minute here."

  "Good idea," Jake replied.

  Still suspicious, Maddie scanned the parking lot, as she followed Jake into the backseat of the cab.

  Emily couldn't hold back, "You're a total badass, Mom."

  "We all are," Maddie replied, still out of breath.

  "To the airport," Sam told the driver.

  The driver mumbled words in Spanish then drove out onto the highway.

  Silence had taken over the car while Maddie peered up at the blue sky through the rear window. The thunderous sound of a plane overhead, cast its shadow on them. "Now we can start our new beginning," Maddie said.

  Still parked amongst other cars in the parking lot, a billow of smoke rose through the window from inside a car. A man wearing sunglasses and smoking a cigar watched Andrea being carried away into the hospital. He took a sip from a bottle of tequila, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then rolled the window up and drove away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Seated in bleachers, cheering fans with shorts and sandals rooted for their favorite team. In the first row, Maddie and Emily waited with anticipation as Jake concluded his practice swings from the on-deck circle. "Come on, Jakester, you can do it," Emily shouted, not embarrassed that his uniform looked three sizes larger than him. If it weren't for the leather dress belt Maddie made him wear, he'd be dragging his pants around his ankles.

  Sam clapped, leaning against the pole of the fence near the dugout. "Come on, buddy, just like we practiced," he shouted, chewing a wad of Big League Chew Bubble Gum.

  Jake listened to his coach's last words. "Remember, keep your head down and follow the ball to the bat, then run like hell."

  Jake began his stroll toward the plate. His bobbing helmet made him look like one of those bobble-head dolls found on dashboards of cars. The fan's cheered and applauded, "Come on Jake, bring 'em in. You can do it."

  He tilted his head over his shoulder and flashed a wink, then spit. All eyes were on him, just like the big leagues in a sold-out stadium. Before stepping into the batter's box, he scanned the field looking for a hole to hit the ball. The coach from the other dugout waved to his outfielders to move in. Jake took a few more practice swings, while staring death looks into the eyes of the pitcher. He spit again, keeping his eyes on the pitcher.

  It was the bottom of the seventh inning with two outs. The winning run was on second base. The game was in his hands. Cheers from both bleachers echoed shouts of, "Come on," and "Easy out."

  After tapping the sides of his shoes with the bat, he adjusted his helmet, then surveyed the field again. "Let's go, Jakester. Just like we practiced. What do ya say?" His father's voice was an inspiration.

  Jake stepped into the batters box, lifting the bat high above his shoulder. The pitcher stood frozen in his stance, ready to receive his signals from the catcher. The players in the field joined in a chorus of, "Hey batta, batta, batta. Hey batta."

  The pitcher shook off several signs, then nodded with approval. Just as the pitcher began his stretch, Jake raised his hand, and stepped from the box. "Time out!" the umpire shouted, holding up his hands. "Everything okay, kid?" he asked.

  "Yeah, I'm fine."

  "Take your time," the umpire said, then rushed to the fence and grabbed his water bottle.

  "Dude, what are you doing?" The pitcher yelled. "Are you gonna bat, or what?"

  "He's chicken," the players taunted.

  The catcher rose from his crouched position from behind the plate, and whipped off his mask. "Hey pussy boy, hurry up, you're gonna make the last out anyway," Thad Jr. said, making sure everyone heard him.

  "You tell him, Brewster," the other players yelled.

  "What did you call me?" Jake asked, in a serious tone.

  "I called you a pussy boy, just like your old man."

  Maddie and Emily flew to their feet and rushed to the fence near Sam. "Let him go," he said, unfolding his arms and blocking the gate.

  The bleachers drew silent, all eyes still on Jake.

  Jake remembered Andrea's words, holding a gun to his head in the boat. He remembered his father's words on managing fear, when they were in the dinghy.

  "You know?" Jake said. "I've had just about enough of you."

  "Yeah, what are you gonna do about it... pussy boy?"

  Jake reared the bat back with both hands and shoved it into Thad's chest protector. Thad took a step toward Jake, "Nice try. Now you're dead meat."

  All the fielders and players in the dugout yelled, "Get 'em Thad. Punch his lights out."

  Visions of being in the warehouse raced through him. "If you can stand, you can fight," his father had told him. He swung the bat back and slammed it against the side of Thad's leg. As Thad buckled, Jake landed a cross punch to the side of his face, knocking him to the ground. Standing over Thad, Jake heaved the bat down, stopping just inches from his face. "Who's the pussy boy now?"

  Thad winced, as Thad Brewster stormed from the dugout, and yanked Jake back by his arm. Maddie squirmed to get around Sam. "I got this," Sam said, then trotted toward Brewster.

  "You little punk," Brewster said. "I ought to give you a good beating," then lifted his hand back to slap him.

  Sam grabbed Brewster's wrist from behind as it lowered toward Jake's face. "I don't think you wanna do that," Sam warned.

  "Yeah? What do you gonna do to stop it?" Brewster challenged, with his chest out and looking down at Sam.

  Sam gave him a cold stare, then whispered in his best Clint Eastwood voice, "Next time you, or that fat piece of bacon you call a son, even think of touching anyone in my family again, I swear I'll snap your neck so fast, you won't have a chance to hear the bones crack."

  Thad Brewster chuckled. It wasn't funny, but it saved face. "Where'd you come from? You really think you can take me?"

  Sam stepped forward, nose to nose. "You should know that I've just been to hell and back. Trust me, you don't to tempt fate. I'll bury you in the most pain you ever thought imaginable. If you don't think I can do it, just make your next move."

  Thad Brewster couldn't believe the words coming from Sam. He remained silent, thinking of the time he sent Sam to the hospital with a broken centerpiece, but they were kids then. He could see the terror in Sam's eyes, ready to attack at his slightest movement. Thad Brewster scanned the bleachers, all eyes on him, waiting for his response. It was the showdown at the O.K. Corral. It was Sampson and Goliath. His next move could risk his reputation of being the tough guy. Brewster's expression was confused fear. "I don't know what y
ou're thinking right now, but you should follow your instincts and walk away. You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of all these people."

  Looking dumbfounded, Brewster reached down and helped the bacon up. "Put your mask on and play the game."

  "But, Dad..." Thad Jr. said.

  "I said, put your mask on and play the game," he barked, again.

  Sam strolled back with a large sigh of relief toward Maddie and Emily. Fans from both sides of the bleachers rose for a standing ovation.

  "Our hero," Maddie and Emily echoed.

  "We're badasses now," Emily added.

  The umpire stepped back into position, "Play ball!" he shouted.

  Jake took his place in the batter's box, once again staring down the pitcher. The pitcher received his sign, and nodded. Jake stood ready to swing as the pitcher went through his windup. The ball barreled toward the plate at knee height. Jake gritted his teeth and swung. The crack of the ball coming off the bat drowned the sounds of the roaring crowd. Fans stood, watching the ball soar through the air. The infielders followed the ball over their heads, as the left fielder sprinted toward the fence looking up. Jake trotted down first baseline, staring at the ball until it went out of sight behind the advertising billboards. The crowd went wild. Jake stumbled his way around the bases while maintaining a stoic expression like it was a routine hit.

  When he rounded third, his teammates gathered at home plate. He stopped just short of the plate, and jumped in the air with both feet landing on the plate. His teammates perched him on their shoulders and marched him around the field like he was a prized trophy.

  When Jake landed back down to earth, Sam, Maddie, and Emily were there to engulf him with hugs and embarrassing kisses. "Our other hero," they said.

  Thad Brewster, Jr., approached Jake to shake his hand. "Congratulations, nice hit."

  Jake grinned, "Thanks."

  A voice came over the microphone.

  "And now everyone, it's time for our season opener

  drawing. We're happy to announce that the prize has

  been upgraded to a fun-filled three day charter trip

  for four in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico..."

  Sam threw Jake up on his shoulders and headed through the gates past the dugout. "How's pizza sound?" he asked.