Wanted: Undead or Alive

Waiting Rooms and Fireballs

I found my grandmother in the emergency department waiting area, weeping on the shoulder of a young woman in ripped jeans and a green hoodie. I sank to my knees in front of her and took her hands. "What happened, Busia?"

She sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "For a couple of days he's been tired, falling asleep during the games, you know? And yesterday I made schabowy with boiled potatoes and warm beets and he didn't even want to eat it. I was worried."

My gut twisted at her words. She'd told me she was worried. She'd said Jaja was listless and had I listened? No, I'd been consumed with work. With freeing Nick. With Nick. "I'm sorry, Busia. I should have listened."

"No, what could you do? I was there with him, and I didn't know. I thought maybe the flu, you know? Maybe the corona? But then this morning, he started wheezing. He said his arm hurt and then he just... I call out the window, 'help me, help me!' and Risa came running." She patted the woman's knee and gazed up at her with big, watery eyes. "Thank you, Risa. Have I thanked you yet?"

"Only about a hundred times." Risa's feet fidgeted and her gaze darted here and there like she was looking for an escape, but her tone was soft, and she patted Busia gently on the shoulder.

"You drove her here?" I asked.

She nodded. "In your granddad's car. She said that was okay. I don't have no car of my own."

Of course it was okay. She was a lifesaver. Literally. A hero. I told her all that and more. "Where is Jaja now? What are they doing?"

"I don't know. The lady said there are tests and a special doctor from Ann Arbor is going to come see him."

I gave her knee a gentle squeeze. "Okay. I'm going to go see if I can find anything else out. I'll be right back."

I waited in line behind a woman and her screaming toddler at the front desk. When it was my turn, I stepped up and found a young male nurse, a middle-aged orderly with an impressively intricate tattoo sleeve, and a banshee doubling as the admitting clerk. I'd never have known if I hadn't met one in person before. There's a certain strange green light in a banshee's eyes that tended to shine brighter when they became aware of impeding death. A measure of comfort came from seeing that lack of brightness.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a pure Midwest American accent.

I pulled my ID from my pocket and held it up for her. "I work for Nicolai Adamos, but I'm here because my grandfather came by ambulance this morning."

This was my discreet way of saying I understood who she was and, on the off chance she knew me, she could rest assured I wasn't in the hospital on official business.

She studied the identification and then met my eye and nodded. "Okay."

"Can you tell me anything at all about my grandfather?"

Her gaze darted to the two men who were paying us no attention at all. "I can't divulge privileged information, of course, but, yes, he was brought in this morning. The doctor is with him now." She hesitated, tapped one long orange-painted nail on the countertop. "I really don't know much beyond that. I haven't been paying particular attention to him."

A long, slow sigh of relief washed away the tension in my shoulders. "Thank you. I appreciate your help."

"Thank you, agent. I know opinions are mixed, but I think the work you do is vitally important to our community."

"No problem," I said with an awkward half-smile. Then I returned to my grandma to tell her Jaja was going to be okay. "You got him here in time. They're going to patch him up."