Double Take
Page 3
When he couldn’t get another drop of water out of her, the man pulled her up to a sitting position and forced her head between her knees. She breathed hard, couldn’t seem to stop shuddering.
“Good, that’s it, keep sucking in air.” He yanked off her wet leather jacket and pulled his heavy sports coat around her.
She hiccupped. “My jacket, my poor jacket. I’ve had it since I was a sophomore at Boston College.”
“It’s so tatty it’ll have to survive. What’s a little water? Hey, I came out of the Crab House and saw that guy clip you on the jaw—and I saw the knife. When I yelled at him, he knew time had run out and he threw you over the railing. He knew I couldn’t chase him then, knew I was going right for you, had to get you out of the water. I couldn’t even shoot at him—there wasn’t time.”
“Shoot him? What on earth do you mean?”
Another man’s voice came out of the darkness. “Hey, Cheney, can’t I leave you alone for a single minute? Where’s June? I thought she only came out for a cigarette. I thought you came out to fetch her. What’s going on here? Who is this?”
The man sprinted over, squatted beside the two of them, and stared down at her, his expression appalled. “What happened here? Did she try to commit suicide?”
He’d asked the man who’d rescued her, the one called Cheney, but she was alive, thank you very much, and so she answered, “No, a man punched me, but he ran out of time before he could finish me off, so he threw me over the railing. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to react at all. He—Cheney—stopped him. He saved me.” She paused, giving him a crooked grin. “That’s a strange name but I’m used to strange names. Mine’s not strange, it’s sort of boring, really.”
“What is your name?”
“I’m Julia.”
Cheney smiled, kept rubbing her back. “It’s not all that boring.”
The other man stared at her like she was nuts, but she really didn’t care. She felt wonderfully tired and slumped back against Cheney’s hands. “My jaw feels like someone exploded a bomb inside my face.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Cheney said. “No, no, don’t you let go now. Straighten up, you can do it.” Cheney lifted her back to a sitting position, pounded her back a couple more times. Thank the good Lord there was nothing left to come up. “That’s it, no more water in you. Now get yourself together, Julia. You’re going to be all right.” He grabbed her arms and shook her. “Time to get a grip here. Come on now!”
She opened her eyes and yelled, “Stop it, you baboon! My head’s going to break off my neck.”
He stopped shaking her. “Okay, but don’t try to fade out again or I’ll whack you some more.”
She heard a woman’s voice. “Cheney? Manny? What’s going on here? I finished my cigarette, but neither of you were at the table when I went back inside. Linda said Manny had come to look for you, Cheney. Come on back inside, they just brought our dinner. Hey, what’s this?”
Cheney slowly got to his feet, pulling Julia up with him, anchoring her against his side so she wouldn’t fall on her face. No, that wasn’t going to work. He picked her up in his arms. “Sorry, June. I guess you could say I’m back on duty. You and Manny go back on in and enjoy the cioppino, it’s supposed to be the Crab House specialty, the best in San Francisco. This is work, so I’ve got to attend to it. I’ll call you later.”
“I’m not work. I’m Julia.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly eight o’clock.”
“Oh dear. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make dinner with Wallace.”
June said, “What does she mean, she’s Julia? You’re sopping wet, Cheney. Who is this woman, what—”
Manny said, “Cheney, you want me to call 911?”
“Nah, you go back in and entertain everyone. I’ll do it. Sorry, June. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Cheney hoped the now quiescent woman in his arms wasn’t going to freeze to death on him, particularly not after all his hard work, not after he’d bundled her in his wool sports coat.
Manny said, “We’ve just seen our tax dollars at work. Come on, June. Cheney, thanks for the excitement. Call me tomorrow, let me know what happens.”
Cheney nodded to Manny as he pulled out his cell phone and punched in 911. “I need an ambulance at Pier 39—”
“Good, that’s it, keep sucking in air.” He yanked off her wet leather jacket and pulled his heavy sports coat around her.
She hiccupped. “My jacket, my poor jacket. I’ve had it since I was a sophomore at Boston College.”
“It’s so tatty it’ll have to survive. What’s a little water? Hey, I came out of the Crab House and saw that guy clip you on the jaw—and I saw the knife. When I yelled at him, he knew time had run out and he threw you over the railing. He knew I couldn’t chase him then, knew I was going right for you, had to get you out of the water. I couldn’t even shoot at him—there wasn’t time.”
“Shoot him? What on earth do you mean?”
Another man’s voice came out of the darkness. “Hey, Cheney, can’t I leave you alone for a single minute? Where’s June? I thought she only came out for a cigarette. I thought you came out to fetch her. What’s going on here? Who is this?”
The man sprinted over, squatted beside the two of them, and stared down at her, his expression appalled. “What happened here? Did she try to commit suicide?”
He’d asked the man who’d rescued her, the one called Cheney, but she was alive, thank you very much, and so she answered, “No, a man punched me, but he ran out of time before he could finish me off, so he threw me over the railing. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to react at all. He—Cheney—stopped him. He saved me.” She paused, giving him a crooked grin. “That’s a strange name but I’m used to strange names. Mine’s not strange, it’s sort of boring, really.”
“What is your name?”
“I’m Julia.”
Cheney smiled, kept rubbing her back. “It’s not all that boring.”
The other man stared at her like she was nuts, but she really didn’t care. She felt wonderfully tired and slumped back against Cheney’s hands. “My jaw feels like someone exploded a bomb inside my face.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Cheney said. “No, no, don’t you let go now. Straighten up, you can do it.” Cheney lifted her back to a sitting position, pounded her back a couple more times. Thank the good Lord there was nothing left to come up. “That’s it, no more water in you. Now get yourself together, Julia. You’re going to be all right.” He grabbed her arms and shook her. “Time to get a grip here. Come on now!”
She opened her eyes and yelled, “Stop it, you baboon! My head’s going to break off my neck.”
He stopped shaking her. “Okay, but don’t try to fade out again or I’ll whack you some more.”
She heard a woman’s voice. “Cheney? Manny? What’s going on here? I finished my cigarette, but neither of you were at the table when I went back inside. Linda said Manny had come to look for you, Cheney. Come on back inside, they just brought our dinner. Hey, what’s this?”
Cheney slowly got to his feet, pulling Julia up with him, anchoring her against his side so she wouldn’t fall on her face. No, that wasn’t going to work. He picked her up in his arms. “Sorry, June. I guess you could say I’m back on duty. You and Manny go back on in and enjoy the cioppino, it’s supposed to be the Crab House specialty, the best in San Francisco. This is work, so I’ve got to attend to it. I’ll call you later.”
“I’m not work. I’m Julia.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly eight o’clock.”
“Oh dear. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make dinner with Wallace.”
June said, “What does she mean, she’s Julia? You’re sopping wet, Cheney. Who is this woman, what—”
Manny said, “Cheney, you want me to call 911?”
“Nah, you go back in and entertain everyone. I’ll do it. Sorry, June. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Cheney hoped the now quiescent woman in his arms wasn’t going to freeze to death on him, particularly not after all his hard work, not after he’d bundled her in his wool sports coat.
Manny said, “We’ve just seen our tax dollars at work. Come on, June. Cheney, thanks for the excitement. Call me tomorrow, let me know what happens.”
Cheney nodded to Manny as he pulled out his cell phone and punched in 911. “I need an ambulance at Pier 39—”
