Valentine stood outside the hospital’s rear entranceway, smoking a cigarette. He had picked up a pack two days ago and been puffing away ever since. Mabel came out and stood beside him.
“Sorry to be a party pooper, but that’s bad for your health.”
He raised the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply.
“A crew from a local TV station is in the reception area,” she said. “They found out you were in town. They’re very persistent.”
He took another deep drag on his cigarette. His name had gotten splashed across every newspaper and TV news show in the country, and now everyone thought they owned a piece of him.
“You’re going to have to talk to them eventually,” she said.
He watched the cigarette’s smoke curl around his head. He didn’t like the newspeople, and had decided he was going to avoid them for as long as he could. They threw around the word
“What would you like me to tell them?” Mabel asked.
His cigarette was almost gone. He dropped it on the ground and crushed it out. He looked across the parking lot and saw there was a rear exit to the street. Great.
“Will I see you later?”
He nodded.
“I called the plastic surgeon who replaced your ear. You have an appointment next week for him to look at your face.”
He nodded again and dug his car keys from his pocket.
“I’ve got your favorite lasagna frozen. I’ll put it in the microwave, get some Cuban bread from the supermarket. Would you like a salad?”
It all sounded great, and he guessed it showed in his face. Mabel smiled, and as she turned to go back inside the hospital, he remembered something.
“Wait,” he said.
His neighbor turned around expectantly. Valentine removed the gold coin Nick had given him from his pocket. He’d bought an elegant eighteen-karat chain for it at an airport kiosk, and now he fitted it around her neck.
“It’s from a sunken treasure,” he explained.
Mabel held the coin up to her face. It was old and worn and absolutely exquisite. She saw Tony walk away, and called after him.
“Will you tell me the story behind this?”
Valentine found his ’92 Honda Accord in the parking lot, unlocked the door, then turned to face her. It had been the longest five days of his life, and he was ready to put them behind him. He would revisit the memories, but not for a very long time.
“Someday,” he said.
