The final part of the entire mess was when a little blond haired boy managed to sneak through the entire group and made his way past the cop to the gurney. "Hey, Mister! You want your puppy?"
I twisted my head enough to see that Billy had a squirming brown fuzzball in his arms. "Oh, my sweet suffering Jesus!", I muttered to myself.
Holly and Molly stared at me and then at little Billy and the puppy. "Daddy?!"
I laughed, and that hurt. "Holly, take care of those two kids. Molly, take care of my puppy!"
Holly wanted to argue, and Molly just stared in confusion. "We're going with you."
"No room!", replied the ambulance guys.
"Take care of the kids!", I ordered her. Then something went into my arm and things began getting fuzzy. "Take care of the kids..." Things got dark and quiet again.
When I woke up I had that hospital room feeling. It was bright and white and out of the corner of my eye I could see a window. I tried to twist my head around a bit, but that hurt and I groaned a touch. Then I heard something rustling and I kept twisting around, and saw a pretty nice sight. Marilyn was in a cheap armchair near my bed and was stirring alive, sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes. She saw me and smiled. "We have to stop meeting like this!"
I smiled and laughed, but that hurt, and I said, "Oh, don't get funny. Where am I?"
"You're in Shawnee, Oklahoma, in the hospital. How are you feeling?" Marilyn stood up and came over to me. "Oh, God, why do you have to keep scaring me like this!?" She bent down and kissed me quickly.
I groaned a touch. "Even that hurt!", I said, smiling. "How are the girls?"
"They're fine. They're back in Springboro, taking care of the kids you rescued."
"Huh?" What was she talking about? "What's going on? How'd you get here, anyway?"
"What, do you have amnesia or something?"
I gave her a perplexed look. "No. The last thing I remember was being dragged out of the basement of that house and talking to the ambulance guy and the girls. Then he stuck a needle in me and here I am. What happened? What day is it?"
"It's Friday. It's only been a day. You're national news, Carl!"
"Huh?"
"Some of the reporters managed to get a satellite feed going while you were in that basement. They reported live on your rescuing the Torquists. They even cut into the afternoon soaps and Oprah. I watched them drag you out of that house!", she told me.
"Who are the Torquists? Was that their name? We weren't really introduced."
"No kidding. That's the family's name. Andrea called me when they pulled you out all covered in blood, and she told me the Gulfstream was being fueled up and to get my butt out here. I landed last night, while you were in surgery."
"Huh! Are they all right? The Torquists, I mean. And why are the girls there? And can I get some water?"
Marilyn smiled down at me. "You bet, hero." She poured some water in a glass and held the flex-straw to my lips. I sucked it dry. "Yes, everybody is fine, everybody except you. And Mrs. Torquist. She's in intensive care right now, and she had her baby last night."
"Oh, Christ!" That would have been all I needed! "So, what's with Holly and Molly?"
"Don't you remember? The last thing you said to them before being loaded into the ambulance? You ordered them to take care of the kids. They said you kept repeating it, that and something about a puppy. Did you get a new puppy, Carl?", she asked, grinning.
It started coming back to me, the idiot promise to the little kids in the basement and the scene around the ambulance. I groaned and mumbled, "Oh, Christ!", again. I looked over at her. "Did I?" She grinned and nodded. "Oh, Christ! So the girls are still there? Why?"
"They were saying something about you giving them your final orders, your dying orders. Molly was being very melodramatic about it all. They're fine. Mrs. Torquist's sister lives nearby and she took the kids and the dogs and the twins in. I went over there last night after they started working on you and calmed them down, but they insisted on staying there."
"Where's their father?"
"He's a long haul trucker. They tracked him down in California. I sent the plane to bring him home. He'll be here this afternoon."
"You'd better call them and tell them I made it after all. Good Lord! My dying orders!? You're kidding me, right?" I rolled my eyes. "So, you flew here from home, saw me here, drove to Springboro, saw the girls, and then came back? Did you get any sleep? What are you, Superwoman?"
"Able to leap tall husbands in a single bound!"
Marilyn opened her purse to pull out a cell phone, and a nurse came into the room. "Congressman! You're awake!"
I nodded, which hurt, and asked, "What happened to me?" From what I could see, most of my left arm was bandaged, and I could feel some pain in my chest and some constriction there, and what felt like a bandage on the left side of my head.
"I'll get the doctor!" She scurried out of the room.
I glanced over at my wife, who was talking into her phone. " ... he's fine. He's wide awake and chasing a nurse out of the room. Here, you can talk to him." She handed me the phone. "They're your daughters!"
That's never a good sign. I took the phone and held it to my ear, all of which hurt. "Who's there?"
"DADDY!", screamed Holly. Then I heard her yelling to somebody in the background. "IT'S DAD!"
"Hi, I'm just fine. Now, you two are relieved of duty! Let those poor people have some rest and I'll see you later today." I felt suddenly tired, and Marilyn took the phone from me.
She smiled at me and said into the phone, "Now, will you two calm down!? I'll be there sometime around lunch and rescue the people you are staying with." I heard the 'That's not funny!' from where I lay in the bed. My wife hung up on the girls and turned back to me. "How old were you when your family kicked you out?"
"We still have a few weeks to go before they're that old."
"Feeling better?"
"Water, please."
Marilyn got me some more water and then the nurse returned with another woman, about the same age, but with a more serious look about her. She smiled as she saw that I was awake and alert. "Congressman Buckman, I'm Doctor Elizabeth Shooster. How are you feeling?"
I gave her a wry smile. "I think you're supposed to be telling me that, Doc. What happened to me?"
She looked at Marilyn. "Is he always like this?", she asked, smiling.
"No, usually he's much, much worse."
I shrugged, but that hurt. "How about, I hurt all over?"
"That's to be expected, but it will pass. All right, here's what happened to you. When the building collapsed, something jagged – probably a wooden floor joist – clipped you on the side of your head, and then kept moving down, and buried itself in your left pectoral muscle and..." She stopped when she saw I had no idea what she was talking about. "It dug in here and here...", she explained, tracing a few areas on her own chest, " ... and also dug into your upper left arm." She tapped her own arm in emphasis. "While that was happening you also cracked a couple of ribs on the left side. They're not broken, though. You also lost a lot of blood. So, when you came in we pumped some blood into you and removed the wood and splinters, and sewed you back together and taped your ribs."