Shaking Off the Dust Read online

  “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Tom teased, full of good humor. He’d gone to sit on the window counter. I frowned at him and hoped Vicki didn’t notice.

  “Very pleased to meet you, Dr. Shimodo,” Vicki replied in her most pleasant voice.

  “A pleasure to meet you again, Vicki. Please call me Takeshi.” He leaned against the wall. “I see you are feeling better, Hannah.”

  “Yes, much better.”

  “And what has the doctor said about your immediate plans?” Tom let his head pass through the window, looking down on the grounds.

  “Has Dr. Shultz returned this afternoon?” Shimodo asked.

  “No,” I answered them both. “I expect to see him anytime. I think he’ll let me leave today.”

  My eyes were riveted on Tom’s head and torso leaning outside. The view must not have been impressive, because he popped inside again and grinned at me. “I’m going to hang out at the nurses’ station to review your chart. If Shultz is here, he’s probably got it now.” He walked through the closed door.

  “You know, Hannah, watching the door won’t bring the doctor any faster.” Vicki leaned back in the chair and surveyed the room.

  I shrugged. “A girl can dream.”

  “I was planning to hang out until he got here. That way I can drive you home if they let you go.” She was ignoring Shimodo.

  My eyes darted from Vicki to Shimodo. He’d gotten some sleep. There was something boyish about his face.

  “That won’t be necessary, Vicki. We’ve already discussed it and I’ll be escorting Hannah home.” Shimodo used that coaxing voice doctors employ when they are telling a patient what to do. I couldn’t decide if it was for my benefit or hers.

  Vicki turned to me. “Tell me, Dr. Shimodo, have you known Hannah long?”

  “Takeshi, please call me Takeshi. Not a long time, no.”

  “How long?” she asked.

  “Why that’s none of your business, Vicki. Now behave.” I glared.

  She stared at Shimodo, who smiled back at her. I suppose he had a lot of women look him over on a regular basis.

  “I guess I might as well go home. Hannah, we’ll have a long talk very soon. Call me.” Vicki started to gather up her purse.

  “I’ll be on my cell phone for a while.” I used as bland a voice as I could muster.

  “You little devil.” She bent down to buss my cheek.

  When the door had closed behind her, Shimodo moved to sit in the chair. “So why did you scream?”

  “A ghost appeared in my face as I came out the bathroom. Tom’s cheerful today. I didn’t know he did cheerful.” I scooted back on the bed using the bedrail button to put it in a sitting position.

  “You don’t know him at all, do you?”

  “I told you that all along,” I reminded him. “Did you think we were actually a couple?”

  “It was the only thing that made sense to me, short of believing in ghosts.”

  “So you thought I was mad as a hatter?”

  He smiled boyishly. “You had been electrocuted the day before and I knew you’d been under Tom’s care for a subdural hematoma a couple of years ago. Brain injury can have significant side effects.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I scratched my head. “I have to admit, I thought I was going crazy too.”

  “You seem to have a good sense of humor for being under so much stress.”

  “You either laugh or cry. I choose to laugh whenever I can.”

  A long silence ensued as I worked hard not to stare at him. I’d never dwelt on the concept of men being attractive. They are handsome, but I discovered that when they are attractive, you are powerless not to gaze at them. I tried to figure out what there was about his facial structure that made him so captivating. Was it the delicate, but definitely masculine line of his cheek and jaw, or the thick black lashes of his eyes, or his full, wide mouth that was in a half-smile as he calmly looked back at me? My, wasn’t I being rude? I averted my gaze.

  I was saved from my bad manners by a knock at the door as Dr. Shultz arrived. He walked in, taking in Shimodo, and nodded. I made introductions referring to Dr. Shimodo as a friend. He could take that any way he wanted. The cardiologist asked me permission to discuss my case in front of Shimodo. I said that was okay.

  “Your echo is normal. We’ve treated your electrolytes and they are back to the low side of normal. I’ll want you to supplement for a few weeks. You’ll be on beta blockers now to keep your heart rate controlled.” He kept trying to place Shimodo. His eyes lit up as he remembered where he’d seen him. “You’re not the Dr. Shimodo who’s doing research on alternate neural pathways after brain injury, are you? I read one of your papers in the AMA journal a few months ago.”

  “Yes,” Shimodo acknowledged. “About Miss Campbell, do you think the SVT was secondary to the shock she received a few days ago?”

  “It is the most likely cause. For now, I would prescribe a continuation of the meds and some rest. No stimulants and I’d prefer you not be alone for a few days, at least until we are sure the medications are working. If that’s not possible, someone needs to check on you at regular intervals. I want to see you in my office in a week, no work until then.”

  “She’ll be well taken care of, Dr. Shultz. I assume this means she can be released from the hospital?” Shimodo inquired politely.

  “Yes, I’ll see to it right away. It was very nice meeting you, Dr. Shimodo.” He left the room.

  “Very good.” Shimodo smiled. “I’ll run you home where you can pack a bag. Then we’ll head back to Tom’s.”

  We waited around for another hour before all the proper papers were signed. I was taken down to the front of the hospital by wheelchair. A sleek red Corvette was parked under the canopy. Shimodo leaned against it wearing sunglasses and a black leather jacket. He looked more like a fashion model than a research neurologist. I could hear the transport tech suck in her breath as he came up to greet us.

  “Your car awaits.” He helped me from the wheelchair.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re just a big kid, Shimodo.”

  He smiled perfect white teeth at me. “Only lately.” He tucked me into the front seat. “It’s a little cold this evening for the top down. October is one of my favorite months in this area, so many colors.”

  “He never needed fancy cars to attract women.” Tom had followed me out with the wheelchair. “The fairer sex has chased him relentlessly over the years, the rumors of his prowess legendary. He goes to Asia every year and I think he finds the women there to his liking.” Tom watched my face for some clue that I understood what he was telling me. When I ignored him, he marched to the car. “There are only two seats, where am I supposed to sit, on the trunk? What was he thinking bringing this car?”

  His comments were intriguing. Was he warning me, or was he jealous? “Stop bitching, Tom.” I repeated his complaints about the car to Shimodo before I gave directions to my house.

  Lucky for us all, the drive was only five minutes. Unfortunately Tom whined the entire time. When we came to a full stop, I jumped out of the car and as far from Tom as I could get.

  I entered the house, turning on the lights. Shimodo stood just inside the door. He was waiting to be formally asked inside.

  “Please, come on in and get comfortable. I’ll put on some gumbo. It can heat up while we talk.” I headed to the kitchen and he followed me. “Seriously though, as much as I appreciate the offer, I think I’ll be staying here tonight. I can come by tomorrow so we can talk about what we need to do to help Tom.”

  “You’ve been outvoted, three to one, if you include Dr. Shultz.” Tom patted my cheek. “Be a good girl and pack your bag.”

  I stamped my foot and Shimodo approached in curiosity. I glared. “Tom is fighting for your side.”

  “Of course. He is an intelligent man who only has your concerns at heart.”

  “You are full of shite, Shimodo! FOS.”

  I put the left
over gumbo in a pot and the rice in the microwave. “I’m going to be in my room, packing an overnight bag. Keep an eye on the gumbo, would you?”

  “I’m at your command.” Shimodo gave a courtly bow.

  “I wish,” I muttered when I got to my room. I sat down on the bed trying to think about what I should pack. Like most single women, I didn’t wear pajamas. I wore gym pants or leggings and an oversized tee shirt. I had one pair of jams for trips out of town and one amazing negligee that I hadn’t worn in ten years. I’d bring the tee shirt, gym pants and the pajamas. Decision made, I stood to pull out my suitcase from the closet. I tugged hard, but it seemed determined to defeat my efforts.

  “Need a hand?” Tom offered.

  “I’m afraid you giving me a hand is more like getting the cold shoulder.”

  Tom disappeared and within a few seconds, I heard a quiet knock on my bedroom door. “Hannah, do you need something?” Shimodo came into the room.

  “If you could help me get my luggage, it would be a great. How’d you know?”

  “Tom.” He reached up, easily getting the suitcase down.

  “So you must have a code signal for me.” I took the suitcase from him, setting it on my bed. “What is it?”

  “Now that would be telling a secret. Can I do anything else?”

  “How’s the gumbo coming along?”

  “It’s ready when you are.” He took in my rumpled bed and slowly surveyed my bedroom. I have an artist friend who does charcoal nudes. I was the proud owner of a large male nude sitting on a stool facing away from the viewer and a small female nude facing forward in flagrant display. I always felt the bedroom was the proper atmosphere to display them. He stepped closer and examined the charcoals, the dark walnut furniture and pale green coverlet on the bed, and that smile was on his face again.

  I laughed at him. “Go set the table. I’ll only be a few more moments.”

  He gave a bow as he left the room. He was too cute for words. Doctor and lab rat, I had to remember. He cares about your welfare because you can communicate with his friend and possibly help his research. That’s all you mean to him, even Tom warned you off. I kept that in mind through the entire evening. As we ate our gumbo dinner. While we cleaned my kitchen. When we drove back to Tom’s. Especially during our Scrabble game, sipping herbal tea.

  The guest room, with mahogany furniture and plush white carpet, was exquisite. I tossed and turned for almost an hour. It was close to midnight and I was tired, but I couldn’t sleep. Both Tom and Shimodo decided we’d begin tomorrow trying to figure out how we were going to help Tom. I was all for that. I’d learned to almost like Tom when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass. I definitely liked his friend, but it was a temporary situation, one that couldn’t last. I’d do what I could and get back to my routine, uncomplicated life.

  Wide awake and restless, I put my bra back on and headed to the first floor. I’d seen bookcases, maybe I could find something to read. I was sure anything Tom had would put me to sleep.

  I padded barefoot through the downstairs. I entered the library to find Shimodo sitting in an oversized leather wing chair having a drink of some kind. Tom sat on a small settee with the dogs at his feet. They came running up to me.

  “Hello,” I greeted them both.

  Shimodo stood, offering his chair.

  “No thanks, I’ll sit with Tom. He’ll need to scoot over a little. I don’t want him touching me.” I watched him move towards the other end. He stuck out his tongue.

  “I never thought you’d be so playful, Tom. Have you always been that way or has being dead given you a sense of humor?”

  “What’s he doing?” Shimodo asked.

  “He stuck out his tongue at me when I asked him to move.”

  “Are you comfortable in your room?” Shimodo held up a decanter. “It’s brandy. Would you like some?”

  “No. The room is fine. I thought I’d hunt for a book, something dull enough to put me to sleep. Speaking of which, Tom, where have you been going when we are snoozing?”

  “I go everywhere I can, but mostly I go to the hangar where they are reconstructing the airplane. It’s fascinating. They work around the clock.”

  I repeated that to Shimodo.

  “I can’t sleep and obviously you two are awake. We might as well start to chart our next move to help Tom.”

  “I’m game.” Tom rubbed his hands together like he was plotting world domination.

  “Hannah”—Shimodo used that coaxing voice—“I’d really like to see you get a good night’s rest. You just got out of the hospital and it was your second visit as an inpatient in the last two days.”

  “I know, but I can’t sleep. I promise I’ll sleep a full eight hours when I do go to bed. Besides, it’s now two to one. Tom agrees with me this time around.”

  “Hey, don’t make me the bad guy in this. He’ll be mad at me.”

  I snorted at him. “Tom’s afraid you’ll hold it against him that he’s on my side.”

  “Okay.” Shimodo bowed. “But if either Tom or I feel you are tiring, we stop and you, my girl, are packed off to bed with the most mind-numbing book we can find.”

  “Great, we’ll need a pen and paper. I vote Shimodo in as the secretary of this little club.” I curled my feet under me.

  “Am I allowed to even take part in this election?” Shimodo went to a desk and pulled out a pen and legal pad.

  “You can vote, but with my recent hospitalization I’m using the health card and Tom’s not able, so you just got elected. I hope you don’t write like a doctor.”

  Shimodo laughed as he sat back down in his chair. “Please begin, Madam Chairman.”

  Turning to Tom, I used my best imperial gaze. “Tell us what you think is keeping you here, but first I need to know something. The white light we all hear about, does it exist?”

  “There was a light.”

  I repeated to Shimodo each sentence Tom spoke.

  “At first it was all I could see, but I moved away from it. Wait, let me rephrase, I turned to see my body.”

  “We can’t help you, if you don’t tell us everything,” I said quietly.

  He nodded, glancing over at Shimodo. “Each morning, at sunrise, wherever I am, a bright light shines next to me. It always lasts for several minutes. I time it every day. Then it’s gone. I never feel compelled to step into the radiance. I recognize there’s some reason I don’t. Once I step into that light, there’s no way I can finish what I need to do here. I don’t know what that is exactly.” Tom paced in front of the settee.

  “Okay,” Shimodo began, “we’ve established that you can enter the light, when you’re ready. You need to feel like you’ve finished things here so you can. This is all positive news.”

  “I must have seen or heard something during my plane flight. Something that can help us find the terrorist,” Tom said.

  “Did you ever speak with the others from the plane crash? Those like you who didn’t move on?” I asked Tom.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  Shimodo did his impression of a student lost during the class lecture.

  “Tom told me the other night that there’re about two dozen other spirits who are at the site and hangar.”

  He gave a nod of understanding. I jumped off the couch and walked towards Tom. “Maybe that’s exactly what you should do. That’s your assignment. Go talk with each of them. Perhaps all of you are still here because you know something to help prevent a future terrorist plot.” I marched right up to Tom’s face. “You have all been through a huge transformation. Use that bond to have a discussion. Tell them our theory. Do whatever it takes to get them to talk.”

  Shimodo was writing on the legal pad, his head down. Tom continued to pace in front of the sofa, giving me the evil eye. “What are you still doing here? Go to them.” One last glare and he disappeared.

  I watched Shimodo finish his careful note-taking then stepped in front of him. “Find me that oh-so-boring book.”

 
; “Ready for bed? That was a short meeting.”

  Was he disappointed?

  “Tom’s gone. Until he comes back with new information, we have time to waste.” I was less interested in the books than in my companion. “When do you have to go back to work?”

  “When I got word on Tom’s initial condition, it was the start of the new semester. I arranged a three-month sabbatical. There’s been so much involved with his funeral and estate, I was glad to have the time. I check in by computer on the research and one of the TAs in the program is covering my classes.”

  I turned back to the books and grabbed the first one I reached. “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. That’ll do.” As I stepped back he was there, so close I could feel the heat of his body. “Tom told me that I was a good subject for your research.” I wore my neutral face, the one I put on when I question a patient about their sex life.

  Shimodo searched my expression. “Yes, it would be very interesting to run some tests on you, to see what lights up in that brain of yours. Especially when you are talking to Tom.”

  “Sure, any time.” I couldn’t stop the disappointed sigh from escaping. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Shimodo.”

  I was suddenly very tired. Tom was right. I was the perfect research rat. When I got back in bed, I didn’t bother to read the book. I lay in the dark for a long time wondering what Vicki would have to say about this whole situation. Hannah Campbell with a crush on a sexy doctor who was in all probability doing all the most beautiful of his students and had lovers scattered over the world. From his standpoint, my only attractive attribute was that of a brain-damaged ghost interpreter.

  * * *

  I woke up at sunrise. The damn curtains were open, and the light fell across my face. I had a headache, not improved by the unrelenting sunshine. The burn on my hand throbbed like it was brand new. How could something so small hurt so much? I searched for a curtain pull. I was afraid to tug on the curtains. With the kind of luck I was having, the whole damn thing would come down on me. Large red numerals showed me the time on the digital clock, five twenty-seven in the a.m. No way I’d get back to sleep with the sun in my face.