Adam rushed Jensen to the county hospital. The difficult part was to find the front entrance. Who makes these things? Are they trying to make sure you cannot find your way in? Adam finally finds it. Grabbing Jensen's good arm, he leads him by way of the emergency room. The whoosh of the automatic doors open as they rush through.
They hurry him in a room to just sit and wait and wait and wait. Jensen's arm is gimpy and now extremely tender. The smell of alcohol makes Adam nervous. Flashbacks of doctors coming at him with those painful needles.
What seems like forever, a nurse walks in. She takes a pair of gloves from the holder on the wall and snaps it on. "Let me take a look at that arm, now shall we?" When the nurse took Jensen's shirt off, it hurt so bad. But he made sure he did not make any sorts of outward references to it.
The nursing staff takes all of his vitals; his pulse, heart rhythm, and even look down his throat. The pen scratches as she writes it all down on a chart and places it back in the slot on the wall.
Jensen is not a very patient patient. "My problem is my arm. You are looking at the wrong end."
"It's just standard procedure. We need to check your overall health before we proceed."
With a somber face, Jensen sits in the soft hospital pillows. The nurse grabs the injured arm. He flinches. "I'm sorry Mr. Jensen. Is that your bad arm?"
He gives her a death stare.
"If you can, place your arm on the table so we can take a look at it."
As he does, the arm aching at the restricted movement. She looks at it from different angles. "Hmmmm," she says. Then she looks at the other side. "Hmmmm," she says again. Finally, she surveys the entire arm. "Interesting."
"What's interesting?"
"Just wait here and the doctor will see you and give you all that you need to know."
Then more waiting. Jensen is not in any sort of mood for small talk. Bored, Adam points out every single thing that is in the room. Jensen seems annoyed. Finally, the doctor enters. "For precautionary purposes, we need to run some tests to see how bad the arm is."
"Precaution?" Adam said.
"What's the download?" Jensen asks.
"It's pretty bad Mr. Jensen. I am worried about if the arm is dead or not."
"It can't be doc. I am a fisherman. I need all of my limbs. It is bad enough that I do all of this by myself. How am I going to function?"
"Before you leave, we will give you some pain killers."
"I don't want just pain killers. I want to know if I can use my arm again."
"We will wrap it up. We will let time see how well you respond to it. If you are a quick healer, you should be back on the job in no time."
"What I am really worried about is how much all of this is going to cost." Jensen has trouble getting the words out because of his scratchy voice.
"Don't worry about that Karl," Adam says. "What's important is that you get better."
"This is a county hospital. We offer financial assistance to patients that can't afford it," the doctor says. "You do look good for your age." He picks up the cart. "You are seventy-five, right?"
"No, I am sixty-two."
"Oh," the doctor sees it on the chart. "When was the last time you had a checkup?"
"Years ago doc," Jensen coughs. "Being a fisherman, I don't have any sort of spare cash for insurance." He coughs again.
The doctor takes out his stethoscope and puts in his ear. He places it on Jensen's bare chest. He jumps a bit from the shock of the cold stethoscope against his skin. The doctor's facial expression does not change.
He takes the stethoscope off from his ears. "We are going to have to take some more tests to see how fast you will heal from your arm."
Jensen looks worried. Adam reassures him everything will be fine. "Ashley and I can help you out until then. Don't worry about anything."
"You guys are struggling as it is."
"What's one more… well, two more? We love Nikita."
The nurse comes back in. She pulls a little stand close to Jensen. "Place your other hand here please."
He plops his non-injured hand on the cold metal stand. She takes out a cotton swab. Then dabs it on his arm. He feels every bit of the cool brush of the alcohol swab. Followed by a pinch of the needle going in. He doesn't flinch as the blood is being drawn. She wraps his arm up in a blue bandage.
As they walk out of the hospital, Adam tries to make light of everything. "Ah, the blue badge of courage." Jensen does not seem amused.
****
After taking the tests required, Adam takes Jensen back to his apartment. He and Ashley takes care of Jensen. Maybe it is the pain meds kicking in, but Karl Jensen opens ups about his life. They get real close to him as he tells old stories about his adventures out at sea.
He was not always a fisherman. He was a carpenter building homes. When that went belly up, he chased his dream to get a boat and fish. He has loved it ever since. No stress he tells them.
Every day Jensen tells his stories and every day Ashley changes his bandages. When she does, he flinches every time. The arm still seems numb.
After about a week, Adam gets a call that he needs to bring in Jensen to the doctors for his follow up. They get to the doctors and Jensen is hopeful that the arm would be okay. Because it has been wrapped up, he had not had a chance to test to see if it is useful.
Adam is in the waiting room with Jensen. Adam sits in a worn out chair that long lost its luster, reading a magazine. Jensen paces about. "Will you sit down Karl. You are going to wear out the carpet."
"I know everything is going to be fine," said Jensen, "I just hate waiting for something like this."
"Well, they do get paid by the hour." Adam turns the page to the magazine it reverberates around the room.
Jensen stops his pacing in front of a vending machine. He reaches in his pocket for some change. "Damn, can you believe what they want for coffee?"
Adam stands up. "Are you short on change Karl? I can give you some."
"Sure, if you don't mind."
Just as Adam reaches over to give him his spare change, a receptionist comes in and tells them that the doctor is ready to see them. Once again, they have to wait in the doctor's office. Jensen paces about. He does not even have coffee to drink to calm him down.
He keeps up the pacing picked up where he left off from the waiting room. Jensen walks over to the window and peers out. "Hmm. I never realized how busy the city is. Nonstop traffic to and fro. Just where are they all going and why are they in a hurry?"
"That's why we left the rat race in Arizona," Adam said. "When I was in that world, I ate antacid for lunch."
They hear a knock on the door. It's a warning the medical staff uses in case someone is standing in front of the door. Before they could respond, the doctor enters. All three of them exchange pleasantries.
Jensen sits straight up in the patients chair as if he is ready to be drafted into the Army. "So, what's the news? Can the arm be fixed?"
The doctor hesitates. He has a somber look on his face. "Well, Mr. Jensen I'm afraid the arm is the least of your worries."
Jensen looks at Adam. He is just as worried as Jensen. "What do you mean doc?"
The doctor picks up his charts. Pulls his glasses from his breast pocket, and puts it on. Then he reads from it without emotion. "Last week, we saw some white spots on your left vocal cord. So we removed some of the tissue for a biopsy to make a definitive diagnosis." He flips the page over the clipboard. "Then we got back your results and it doesn't look good."
With his right hand, Jensen grips Adam's arm.
The doctor puts the chart down, takes off his glasses, and looks Jensen straight into his eyes. "You have stage four throat cancer, right off of the left vocal cord, directly on top of the trachea."
"I-I don't understand…" Jensen said.
"The cancer has spread to nearby tissue to one or possibly more lymph nodes on the neck. We are worried that it has spread to other parts of your body beyond the throat."
Jensen is stunned. He cannot get the words out. Adam speaks for him. "Will he live a normal life doctor?"
"We need to do further tests to see if the cancer had metastasized to Mr. Jensen's skull. If it has, the tumor will press on his brain."
"What are you trying to say?" Adam asked.
"I don't want to guild the lily. It seems that Mr. Jensen may be entering the closing stages of his terminal illness."
"How can that be? I stopped smoking this year." Jensen's heart sank.
"It seemed that it was too late. Had we caught it earlier, there might have been a chance to do something about it. We have treatments, but I'm afraid—"
"—you're afraid?" Jensen said. "How do you think I feel?" He grabs his things, turns to Adam, "This is why I don't go to see doctors."
The old fisherman of the sea storms out of the doctor's office. Adam rushes to catch up. Jensen came in for one problem and now leaves with another. Delivered to him in the form of a death sentence.
As they head towards Adam's car, he seems at a loss of what to say to Jensen. "I'm sorry Karl," Adam said. No matter what he says, it is just no use. The fisherman sits quietly in the passenger side as Adam heads on back home. Normally he would be talking up a storm about this adventure or that one. His personality is very subdued. There is an unnatural stillness to him.
While Adam drives past the city sites, Jensen turns to look outside, his face expressionless. His gaze is inward with an unfocused stare. Jensen feels like he just got punched in the gut.
A million thoughts race through Jensen's head. What does one do when they have been told they have an incurable disease? It seems like I am living someone else's life. Watching it playout on old nickelodeon, stuck in an endless loop.
Jensen has a lump in his throat. He does not know if that is the cancer getting worse or fear over taking over his conscious mind. When they get to Harbor Shores, Adam and Ashley offer for him to stay with them, but like a robot, he picked up his dog and went to the only home he has known for decades, his fishing boat. Right now, Jensen has a desire to be alone.
Jensen makes his way to the back of the cabin. Then plops down on the bench. He just stares out towards the unknown. As he is in deep thought, his brow wrinkles. He holds Nikita even tighter. Who will take care of her? He bites his lip. What is her fate? Jensen pulls in even tighter.
Somehow sensing his grief and pain, she snuggles in to him. She does all that she can to comfort her companion. As she too tries to get closer to his touch, Nikita takes in large, deep breaths. Jensen can feel her pulse race.
When he looks at her to catch her expression, he glances down at his arms. The hair on it stands on end. His shoulders tighten up. What kind of pain will I go through? What's on the other side?
During his many adventures, Jensen had felt many things. Sometimes anger when the damn crabs won't crawl into his cage. Or when the sea would not cooperate. His heart would race with the thrill of what the ocean had in store next. Other times he would be overjoyed when he daily catch exceeded his expatiations.
Mostly he would feel warmth from the comradery of his many friends down the years who used to laugh at his bullshit. Now they are all gone. Sure, they were old at the time he knew him. But, now it seems that he is old beyond his years.
Though he risked his life every day fighting the waves and turbulent seas, the one emotion he has never felt was fear of death. He did not have time for it. He was too busy living life. Now that death is imminent, his entire mood changes.
Jensen stands up and puts Nikita down. She sticks by his side even more than usual. He goes about his daily tasks; fixes the dog her food, putting the coffee on, picking up a box of cigarettes he never threw away. He stares long and hard at it. Then he turns it sideways, reading the Surgeon Generals Warnings. It was on the damn box in big bold letters. And yet I ignored it. It could never happen to me. I'll worry about it tomorrow. Oh, tomorrow will never come he used to say to himself. Well, now there may never be anymore tomorrows.
He stops for a second longer holding the box of cigarette. He glares out into space with nostrils flaring. Then crushes the box.
Shaking his head to snap himself out, he meanders around the cabin of the Shrimp Dancer. Time seems to stand still. Maybe I deserve this. His chest rises up and he lets out a big sigh. This causes his head to tilt downwards. He just stares at his feet. He notices dirt on his boots, so he goes to get a cloth to clean it.
As he makes his way to the sink, he sees many pictures of him in front of his boat caring crab cages. His eyes glaze over drifting into the image as if he is teleporting himself inside of it. Why did I waste my time as a fisherman with nothing to show for it? No wife, no children… no legacy.
As the anger builds, he tosses the pictures off to the side. I am a failure. I wasted my life so others can take an animal and boil it alive. Never knowing from one day to the next if I will catch enough to survive. Never knowing if the storeowners will want what I catch. Never knowing about what the real purpose of life is.
He gets down on his knees and starts to pray. Except, he has not done so in so long, he forgot what to say. "God, if you are out there…" Out there. If there is a God, then why are some made to suffer and others like Edward Wilcox allowed to live a lavish life? A loving God would never allow that.
I may not have prayed every day, but I lived my life as a respectable as I can. All my life I made sure I was a good person so as not to anger God, to make sure God's children were fed with good wholesome fresh food. And what is my reward? "Cancer!" Jensen yells out.
Nikita jumps. This frightens her. He walks over to comfort her and notices his clammy arms. Maybe he brought this on to himself. Maybe I deserve going through this. His thoughts turn inwards, reliving that visit at the doctor's office when he told him he had cancer. When he told him was going to die. He wants to forget it all, but his mind will not let him.
What is there to live for? I do not have to watch both ways when crossing anymore. I can eat what I want or drink what I want. He looks through his fridge. Damn, no beer. I know I have a bottle of hooch somewhere in these drawers. Pulling everything he owns out on the floor, he goes through every item. Not once, not twice, but three times.
Exhausted, he looks out towards his window and sees Adam walking along the boardwalk. Look at him. He has the life. If he wants to go out and waste time with his silly blog, he can. If a cause inspires him, he does something about it.
Jensen's eyebrows raises. Why not?
With renewed vigor, Jensen runs out to catch up with Adam. "Is that offer still good?"
Adam eyes swishes together. "What are you talking about?" The tone of his voice is uncertain.
"You know," says Jensen, "That silly fishing expedition of yours?"
"I don't think it's silly because—"
"—I'm all in!"
Stunned, Adam just glares at him in disbelief. "Are you sure? I don't think you want to make a rash de—"
"—do ya want me or not?"
"Um… yeah… of course, but—"
"--Under one condition," says Jensen.
Adam tilts his head and pauses for a few seconds. "What, pray tell is that?"
"If I am going on your sea hunt, I want to lead this damn thing. I want the Kraken."
****
With D-Day upon him, Edward Wilcox is salivating at the thought of being rid of two of his biggest problems in one fell swoop. The beast who has terrorized the neighborhood… and the squid. This is the outcome he has been hoping for all summer.
There is an old saying that goes, "Be careful what you wish for, you might get it." Prudence warns that the outcome you hope for might have unintentional consequences. Well for Edward Wilcox he welcomes it. He has tempted Lady Fate so many times that he is on a first name basis with her. And she has never let him down
Part of that is stacking the deck in your favor. Moreover, Edward Wilcox always deals from the bottom. He did a background check on Karl Jensen and is very pleased with what he has found. Jensen is more than capable of ridding the community of the beast. But, how to get rid of Belfort?
It is no use trying to bribe the old fisherman to bump off his friend. Edward's insiders have told him how close the two are. Also, he cannot rely on dumb luck that Belfort will die out in the ocean. Wilcox has enough dirt to ruin the wannabe journalist. The fact that Jensen will be leading the expedition will mean that Wilcox can renege on his deal with Belfort. And if he tries to say anything, Edward has their last meeting recorded.He knows just the right words to use to get the correct response from his mark, that certain set of trick questions, and the precise phraseology that will kick up the dander of the dupe. Then later those words… and only those certain words… can be edited to make it sound like Belfort was the one that was blackmailing him.
For now, Edward will be the good host. He has provided the expedition anything and everything they requested to make the trip successful. The latest in scuba gear, a motorboat attached to the Scrimp Dancer, and even a few motorize propeller thingies so they can cruise underwater. It will be the best money ever spent.
****
At that same moment at the home of the Belfort's, Adam meticulously organizes all that he needs for the trip. He packs each item neatly into a duffle bag reminisce of a sailor going out sea. He pats his body as if something magically was going to appear. He looks around the room. Then something shiny catches his eye. Conrad Cartwright's St. Christopher.
With a heavy sigh, Adam picks up the cross. Looks at it. He has never really studied it all that hard before. What catches his eye is the carved picture of an old man with a staff and what seem like a child on his back. He cannot quite make out the writing on it. It must be in Latin. No, it is English, but in a font that makes it difficult to read. "Saint Christopher…" Then he reads the bottom, which is even harder to make out. "Uh… oh… Protect Us!" A lot of good it did for Conrad.
Adam does not believe in all of that mumbo jumbo stuff. But the fact remains that because of a twist of fate, Conrad was not wearing the religious artifact when he met his end by the Kraken.
For sentimental reasons, he puts it in his pocket so he can have a piece of Conrad with him. He will wear it so as not to forget what this mission is all about.
Just as he was picking up the duffle bag, Ashley walks in. She gives him that classic stare of hers. Uh, oh… he knows he is in trouble. "We went over this," he says. "And besides, it's all set up. No turning back now."
Ashley clenches her fist, "Well, then… un-set it up."
Adam tilts his head back and lets out a sigh. "I cannot do that and you know it."
Ashley pulls out an overnight bag and throws it on the bed. Then proceeds to grab her stuff. "In any case, if you are going, then I will too."
Adam reaches over and stops her from packing. "No, you cannot go. Jensen is depending on you to watch Nikita." They glance over at the dog, who is sleeping on their couch. "Besides," says Adam. "I'm the knight in shining armor, remember?"
"Now you get altruistic." She is slacked jawed. "When I said I wanted you to save the planet, I didn't mean go out and kill a dragon."
"I don't have a choice." He bends over to pick up his duffle bag.
"Yes, you do," Ashley voice cracks. "We can manage." She has trouble swallowing.
He stands up, and gives her a hard, long stare. Are you kidding me? He grits his teeth and holds back what he was going to say. Do not get upset. You do not want to carry that frustration before the voyage. It is going to be scary as it is. I do not need this right now.
He grabs his bag. "I must go." The mixture of emotions makes his head spin. Adam has not got rid of that feeling of guilt after watching Conrad die in front of his eyes. He lugs the bag over his shoulder and heads for the door.
The second he reached for the doorknob, he stops. He has not convinced Ash his need to go. He just hates to leave with anger on his mind. This might be the last time—. No, no, no… get that thought out of your mind Adam.
Positive thoughts… positive thoughts… positive thoughts.
There is no other choice but to succeed. I have a plan for the future… and dying is not a part of it.
He looks back at her, but she is still in the bedroom brooding.
****
The creak of the door permeates throughout the apartment. While she watches her husband leave, the lump in Ashley's throat has now grown to the size of a baseball. Then the apartment door clicks shut behind Adam.
Her heart pounds.
Never in her life has she been this scared. Her hands shake. This will be the last time she will see him alive. She exhales in a loud gasping sound as large blast of air escapes her lips. Nikita wakes up.
When Ashley inhales, it is very shallow. Then exhales again. As she inhales, it becomes rapid. The intervals are short. She gulps, and then chokes on the rush of air.
She reaches for a bottle of water, but pauses. The choking past. She braces herself against the kitchen counter. Just like that, Adam left. There is so many things she wanted to tell him. Damn, I should have been more forceful and prevented him from leaving.
Her eyes squint as she fights back tears. How could he do this to her? The heavy breathing continues. Ashley holds her breath. A calm hush. Then a slow exhale. She walks forward towards the living next to the bay windows. We are supposed to grow old together. An inner unrest over comes her as a sudden redness appears on her face.
Then she walks back in the direction of the kitchen area. Next Ashley places her hand on her hips and makes a half turn looking out the window where the docks are. She watches Adam and Jensen load the boat. He is not prepared for the open sea. The fool is going to get himself killed. She feels it on the back of her neck.
She experiences helpless, frozen in time and space distant from herself. She takes a step forward and feels her soul leave her body. Then she shakes her head and snaps herself out of her stupor. As she glances at the boat, she sees something odd about the way the cabins are shaped.
It is not up to the woman to protect her man. But, this I must do. She reaches to pick up the keys, but her hands shake. Maybe it is not too late to stop them. Ashley heads towards the door and Nikita barks.
Ashley notices Agnes McCluskey walking her dog. Ashley grabs Nikita, locks the door behind her, and runs to catch up with Agnes. Mrs. McCliskey says it is no trouble looking after Nikita. Now Ashley runs towards the docks. Hopefully it's not too late. However, when she gets there, they are gone. The boat is empty. She hops in and sees Adam's wetsuit. Maybe they have not finished loading yet.