Douglas?
The 'genuine' Pathek Philippe played the tune of the Simpsons again and Martin opened his eyes. It was still dark.
'You got to be kidding me,' he thought sleepy. He checked the time with the clock on his phone. It was indeed seven in the morning. Martin moaned, but decided to get out of bed. He cleverly bumped his head just slightly to the ceiling, since after all these years he still forgot that he was taller than the room. It did not happen often, something being shorter than him.
After a short shower he checked his phone again. He had bought it in Paris, after the other one mysteriously had disappeared from his room. It was a nice phone, but he still was not used to those French settings. He had tried many times to change the language, but it still got stuck on French.
Now he noticed the three messages, which were cleverly hidden under the tab messages. They were all sent between 3 and 4 in the morning and the first two were from Douglas. The last message was send from Arthurs' fifth-hand phone. Surprisingly, the three messages were all the same.
"Where are you?"
Martin stared at the texts with a sleepy confusion. Nothing had happened, since they arrived yesterday from Paris.
He texted back to both during breakfast, pondering why they had texted him at such hours.
An hour later, one of the students knocked on his door. Martin, who was reading a book with an airplane on the cover, looked up.
"What is it Andrew?"
"Some people are here for you, mister Crieff," answered Andrew. He looked a bit worried. "They said you to hurry."
Martin put down the book and got up, again bumping his head.
'Probably Carolyn got another another job,' he thought, while he rubbed his head. He grabbed his emergency pilot bag and his hat and went downstairs.
There was a car waiting outside, but it was not Carolyns'.
"Skip, hurry up!" yelled Arthur from the drivers seat. Martin quickly walked up to the car. Douglas sat next to Arthur, with a very fancy pair of shades over his eyes and a little smirk on his lips.
"What's all this fuss, Arthur? What is going on?" Martin asked.
"I'll explain everything on the way. Please get in."
"Is thís your car?" Martin opened the car door and backed away, "Eugh, what is that smell?"
"If it smells like duffle coats, that is the normal smell," Arthur quickly replied, "Now get in, so we can go."
"What do you mean by "if it smells like"?" asked Martin, while he sat down and regrettably closed the door, "Do you mean I have to smell something different as well?"
It was silent for a moment, while Arthur tried to get the car started again. "...No."
"Arthur!"
Arthur fidgeted with some buttons and tried to start the car again. There was some noise, but not a good sounding one. Arthur looked...panicky. Suddenly he smacked his hands on the dashboard, roaring and telling the car how bad she was.
“ You bad car. Start already! I said start! You bad, bad car!” Martin was lightly shocked. Arthur was not like this. Not often, in any case.
"Arthur," he said with a soothing voice, "What is going on?"
"It's Douglas, Skip," said Arthur with panic in his voice. He looked at the airline pilot, with fear in his eyes.
Martin almost forgot about the first officer. He was still sitting in the front seat, with his shades over his eyes and the little smirk on his face. He had not moved for the whole time. Nor had he said anything.
"What happened?"
Arthur started crying.
"I think he is dead, Skip."
He is alive!
Martin looked at the figure in the front seat. He lightly pressed his fingers on Douglas his neck and sighed deeply. Then he smiled to Arthur.
"He is not dead, Arthur," he said, "He has a heartbeat." Arthur kept sobbing, but thanked the heavens. While Martin took another look, he could see Douglas breathing. It was slow, but his chest rose and sank with a certain rhythm.
"Arthur, why did you think Douglas was dead?"
"He didn't move a-and...and I-I... And mum was not at home, s-so..." Arthur fel silent. Martin, more confused by the explanation, laid his hand on Arthurs shoulder.
"It's allright, Arthur. What happened?" Arthur stopped sobbing. He was clearly frightened by the whole situation, but at least he got some colour back on his cheeks. He got a handkerchief from the glove box to blow his nose and took a deep breath.
"We were at the Hose and Hydrant, just having a drink, when Douglas suddenly started to act... strangely."
"Strangely?" Martin raised a ginger eyebrow, "What do you mean by strangely?"
Arthur thought for a while, about how he was going to explain it.
"Well, he started to talk weird and one of his eyes became really red."
"Like... when someone is drunk, perhaps?"
"Yes, but ten times worse!" Arthur used his hands to enforce how much worse it was. Martin gestured Arthur to go on. "And then he started texting someone, talking about something important he wanted to say." Martin suddenly remembered the strange text messages.
"Do you know who it was, he texted?"
"No," Arthur turned completely around to look Martin in the eyes, "He is really strong, you know. Once he took part at a wrestling competition and he even beat Dirk the groundsman. Wow, that was a brilliant match." For a moment, Arthur was his usual self again, thinking about that 'brilliant' match.
"What does his strength has to do with..." asked Martin, but he stopped as they both were startled by the big sigh of the first officer. Douglas was silent again after that. Arthur continued his story again.
"He didn't want anyone to touch his phone," answered Arthur "But he was like that for half an hour and then he fell to the floor. He didn't get up. That was when I tried to reach you and mum."
"That reminds me, where is Carolyn if she isn't home?" Arthur made a nervous noise and it appeared that he was struggling with something. Probably his mother threatened him to not tell something. "Leave it. It is not important right now," continued Martin, "What is important, is to know how long he is like this and what you did further."
"Well, it was around 4 in the morning when I texted you, if I remember well," Arthur said with the difficult look still on his face, "And Douglas did not move from the moment he fell on the floor till now."
"He di... Why didn't you go to the hospital?"
"I panicked, Skip!" cried Arthur, "I didn't know what to do. There was no-one else to help and I can't think when I panic." Martin made a little noise, but did not reply. "And when you texted me back, the only thing I could think off, was to go to you with Douglas and let you tell me what to do." Martin was baffled by everything that came his way in such a short time. Arthur often just waited for Douglas, Carolyn or him to tell hem what to do. But in a situation like this, did he just wait for Martin to tell him where he was, so he could bring Douglas and Martin would tell him what he should do? And how did Arthur manage to get Douglas in the car? Martin thought about what Arthur had said about the first officer.
"How come you are so sure, Douglas is not drunk?" asked Martin after a moment of pondering.
"Because he doesn't drink."
"That is what he says."
"But it was really bad, Skip. It was nothing like I ever experienced." Martin sighed.
"Well... can you get your car to start? Then we can go to the hospital." Arthur did not answer, but tried to turn the key again. After a few seconds, the sound of what was supposed to be a car starting was heard. Arthur gave Martin a hopeful smile and grabbed the steering wheel. Martin glanced at Douglas and pondered: 'I wonder what happened yesterday.'
"Why didn't you call 999?" Was the first question Martin had to deal with at the hospital.
"Ehm..." he started. He took a glance at Arthur, who began to become his usual self again. He had shouted a couple of times "Brilliant!" to the more impressive injuries in the waiting room. Douglas was somewhere in a bed taken care off. Now, the only thing left were the paperwork and difficult questions.
"We... panicked?" he suggested. Martin had forgotten the emergency number completely when Arthur told him he thought Douglas was dead. And after he found out Douglas was not (dead), he was too busy with soothing Arthur to think about it. And now he had to explain to the nurse behind the plastic window, why he did not cal lthe emergency number. Martin was not very happy about how things started out now.
In fact, he didn't like hospitals at all. He felt insecure and tiny (well, tinier). It was not very good for his self esteem. So, to create more confidence, he had put his captains hat on his head. It helped... a bit. He looked a bit taller, anyway.
The woman behind the plastic window made a face to show that she could easily imagine him panicking and forgetting a 3 digit number. She wrote something down on a piece of paper.
"Do you know anything about his health?" she asked in a monotone voice, "Does he has any allergies, or physical condition?"
"I-I don't know. Arthur?" Martin grabbed Arthur, who was staring at a large open wound, at his sleeve and asked him the question.
"Douglas is allergic to henna," Arthur said immediately.
"Henna?"
"That is right, madame."
"Hmmm," the woman wrote it down, "And does he take any medication?"
"No he doesn't, madam." She crossed a square on the sheet.
"Any history of addiction or abuse of certain substances?" Arthur fel silent.
"I think," began Martin, but he thought for a second. Douglas always said he didn't drink any more. Would that be, because he was an addict? He tried to formulate it more delicate. "He does not drink any more, but I don't know..."
"I know enough," said the nurse, while she wrote the last things down, "If you would take a seat in the waiting room and fill in these forms. I'm sure the doctor will have some news soon." She handed the papers to Martin and directly switched her attention to the next person.
"Arthur, you have to help me with this," said Martin in a soft voice, "I don't know anything about Douglas his..."
"I'm sorry, Skip, but I don't know anything about that either," Arthur replied apologetically. Martin sighed and looked around. 'How on Earth can we help Douglas, if we don't know anything about him?' he thought desperately. He flipped to the stack of papers they had to fill in. He thought he knew Douglas his birth date, profession and gender with some certainty, but the rest was just as unknown to him as the residence of his future girlfriend.
"Well,” he tried, “ Do you have the number of his ex -wife then?"
"Skip!" cried Arthur disgusted, "Ofcourse not. That is his ex-wife!"
"Oh no-no-no-no! Not like that," Martin immediately turned red by the sudden attention, Arthurs' cry created.
"I mean, Skip, she is very good looking, but I never..." Martin tried to sooth him into speaking with less volume.
"No-no Arthur. I-I-I just thought... You know more about Douglas than I do, and maybe you knew her number as the back-up number. For when there would be something wrong with Douglas, you know." Slowly the light of understanding appeared in Arthurs' eyes. "But apparently you haven't," ended Martin with a sigh
"No, Skip, sorry." They both stared at the stack of papers, they had to fill in. Martins' face was still bright red under his hat, while he tried to think.
"Does your mother..."
"As I told you before, I don't know where she is." They were silent for another moment.
"Why?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Why don't you know where she is? You live with her. Doesn't she say where she's going?"
"No," Arthur said simply, "and if I ask, she says it's none of my business."
"Ah." Martin thought about all the things that had happened, since he woke up. This day was even more chaotic than normal.
"Arthur!" cried a womans voice across the waiting room. Carolyn stood at the entrance, a wounded captain Hercules Shipwright under her arm, "What on Earth are you doing here?"
"Mum!" shouted Arthur back. His face was in the midst between terror and happiness.
"Carolyn!" Martin stood up and walked quickly to her, "What happened?"
"Herc got attacked by a sheep."
'That is a nice, soft floor. I didn't know we had such soft floors in Fitton,' thought the confused and drowsy co-pilot. Douglas opened his eyes, but closed them immediately again. The last thing he remembered was the, bit unprofessional, stumble to the ground in the 'Hose and Hydrant' and Arthur yelling his name. It had been a long and tiring day, flying from Paris, where the captain created quite a big mess at customs. And ofcourse Douglas had to sort it all out, losing some of his hard earned income from the Talisker sale. Oh, how he longed to fly with Air England for one more time. Just one more time being captain, instead of that ginger shorty with a hat that rather belonged to Goldfinger. He was sure the Democratic Republic of Congo wanted it back someday.
Douglas opened his eyes again, expecting a worried and chaotic Arthur and some chuckling ground staff. Instead, he saw a white ceiling, a light pink curtain surrounding the bed he was lying in and an uninterested nurse. The nurse did not see him waking up, but changed something next to his bed. Douglas closed his eyes and groaned.
"Aha! Good day mister..." the nurse looked at the chart at the end of the bed, "Richardson."
"Where am I?" Douglas asked. He was surprised by how weird his voice sounded.
"In the hospital, sir," answered the nurse, writing down something on her notebook, "Your friends were very worried about you."
"Friends?" Douglas' head was still fuzzy and he was quite confused. The nurse did not reply. She wrote some more things down and walked away, closing the curtain completely. Douglas tried to sit up, felt his head spin and let himself fall into the pillows again.
'This is not good,' he thought. He lifted the white blanket to check if all his bits were still attached to his body. Judging by the state of the bed and the customer service of the nurse, there was quite a chance they made a... mistake. But everything seemed to be there.
There was a rustling noise and the doctor appeared.
"Good day, mister..." he checked the chart at the end of the bed, "Richardson."
"Where am I?" asked Douglas.
"In the hospital, ofcourse. I am doctor Blessed." The doctor offered Douglas his hand. Douglas looked at it suspiciously, but after a few seconds shook his hand.
"Okay, doctor... Which hospital, if I may ask?"
"All Saints." Douglas groaned again. Carolyn even cut costs when it came to hospitals, apparently. The doctor did not react, but took another look at the chart.
"You are here, because you didn't wake up after you fell on the floor," the doctor read from the paper, "It appeared you were intoxicated..."
"Impossible! I've been sober for 9 years!" cried Douglas. He coughed and swallowed painfully.
"Well, since I have the chart here, stating you had an alcohol level, so you could sell your blood as a liquor brand... I think you had a little to drink." Douglas was baffled.
"But.."
"Sir, what I was saying, the amount of alcohol in your blood was enough to be fatal," the doctor interrupted, "The fact that you are still alive is thanks to...thanks to," he looked at the chart again, flipped through some pages and looked again, "I actually don't know, how you survived this. But you look much better, you are awake, so we just have to run a few tests, before we throw you out again."
"I don't have her number. The only number I have is his home and cell number and the number of his first ex wife," replied Carolyn to Martin, while a male nurse drove Hercules off to be treated for the broken leg and other open wounds.
"Okay, then we call her."
"We can't."
"Why not?" asked Martin, fidgeting with his hat. Carolyn demanded that Martin took off his hat before even allowing his existence. He simply looked ridiculous in his worn down clothes, a blushed face that clashed with his hair and a massive shiny pilot hat. Arthur had walked away again and now stared at an abstract painting on the wall, loudly guessing what it looked like.
"I can't call her, because- Arthur, stop that nonsense immediately!- Because Douglas doesn't have a healthy relationship with his first ex -wife."
"Maybe, but she is the only one who can help us fill in these forms. And she wouldn't let him die, right?" Carolyn made a disapproving noise, but did not answer. Arthur had started to look at the other people in the waiting room again. After a few "Brilliant" patients, he sat next to woman with a large bump on her head and started talking to her.
Martin continued: "Anyway, why do you only have those numbers? He has married two times after that. Why don't you have those?"
"Douglas is not the type to let you into his private life. And probably he thought he would never end up in a situation like this," answered Carolyn in a low voice, "Arthur, stop talking to that poor old girl!"
"Sorry mum!" Arthur replied. He left her with a cheery goodbye, leaving her a lot of information about how mummies are made richer.
While Carolyn and Martin were quarreling about whether or not to call Douglas his first ex -wife, a doctor came into the waiting room. He was quite handsome, with his shiny blond hair, grey eyes and full lips. Under his coat he wore brown trousers and a dark blue shirt that amplified the idea of him being a photo-model, wearing the latest doctor trends. Everyone looked up, except Arthur who was intrigued by a magazine about diseases of the world.
"I am looking for a ... Captain Martin Crieff," the doctor said, looking through his papers. Martin stood up and gave a nervous smile. The doctor replied with a dashing white photogenic one, but replied his request. "Captain Martin Crieff? Is he here?"
"Ehm..."began Martin, "I-I-I am captain Martin Crieff." Carolyn stood next to Martin and gave a knowing look at the confused doctor. Arthur also joined the group.
"Aha. Yes, Captain," the doctor began with another smile and a handshake, "I am doctor Adam Blessed. I have news about...mister Richardson."
"News? Good news I hope?"
"Indeed good news." The doctor put a massive hand on Martins shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Mister Richardson has woken up." Martin sighed relieved. Carolyn thanked the heavens and Arthur cheered.
"Well, th-that is good news," said Martin, "Is he allright?"
"As far as the fact goes that he is in the hospital, he is relatively fine," answered the doctor. He made a gesture to follow him, but did not remove his hand from Martins' shoulder. He lead the three members of MJN into a little consulting room. They sat down. The doctor began with a sigh.
"I am sorry to tell this, but mister Richardson was severely intoxicated. Apparently, he drunk too much, even for his own good." There was a slight tone of prejudgement in his voice. The doctor kept looking at Martin when he spoke.
"Intoxicated?" cried Arthur, "You mean... Like in drunk?" The doctor nodded.
"Doctor," began Martin.
"Please, captain," said doctor Blessed with an expression Martin could not place, "call me Adam."
"Ah, thank you Adam... A-Adam, we know it sounds, ehm, incredible but..."
"Captain, the patient tried to tell me the same thing. He said he was sober for several years. However, the level of alcohol in his blood was enough to kill the average human male easily. It is impossible to think that he 'accidentally' got a drink containing alcohol."
"But-but t-t-that is impossible," Arthur stuttered, shaking his head, "Douglas just doesn't drink. He doesn't. Tell him, Skip!"
Martin thought about this revelation. He never knew when Douglas was lying and when he was telling the truth. Whenever he stole the Talisker, did he really sell it? And when he drank from his flask, what was really in there? Martin looked at the doctor, who smiled warmly. Then he looked at Arthur, who looked at Martin with hope in his eyes. Carolyn sighed.
"I am sorry, Arthur," said Martin, "But when the tests show that Douglas..." he did not end his sentence.
"Arthur, go get us some toblerones from the shop," said Carolyn, gesturing her son out of the door. With a hanging head and tears glistening in his eyes, Arthur walked out of the room.
"We have to run some more tests," doctor Blessed continued, "but currently mister Richardson is in relative good health. As long as the next test results are positive, he can return home."
"And what are the consequences of this... accident?" asked Carolyn with a knowing sign.
"For our area of expertise, nothing," replied doctor Blessed, "I don't know about insurances, work and relationships." With the last word, the doctor focused on Martin. Martin shook his head, still thinking.
"Did he talk about what happened?" asked Carolyn. The doctor shook his head. He stood up, Martin and Carolyn followed.
"He did not, but you can ask him yourself. Since he is awake, you can visit him now."
Martin wanted to follow Carolyn, who quickly had walked out of the door of the consulting room, but he got blocked by the doctor. Carolyn shot a curious glance at them, but heard her name.
"Miss Knapp-Shappey? Is there a miss Knapp-Shappey around?" asked another doctor to the waiting room.
"Ah, that must be information about Herc. I have to see him first. Sorry Martin, I will see you later." Carolyn walked up to the other doctor, who was startled by her sudden appearance behind his back. Doctor Blessed still stood between Martin and the door. He looked at Martin with a smile, while he ran a hand through his hair. Martin gave a quick smile back, not knowing what to do with this situation.
"Ehm..."he began, pointing at the door and holding his hat, "Shall we go, then?"
"Martin," began doctor Blessed, "I cán call you Martin, right?" The voice of the doctor seemed to be a bit sweeter and darker, when he said Martins' name.
"Oh, y-yes, ofcourse. W-why not?" Martin was not used to things going so quickly. He started to blush slightly from this strange situation.
"Martin, before we go see mister Richardson, I want to ask you some more questions. I had to wait, because I don't know how the others... would have reacted to these questions. And you seem to..." He did not end the sentence but let it hang in the air.
"Of-ofcourse," replied Martin, a little nervous. 'What on Earth would these questions be?' Martin sat down again and fumbled with his hat. The doctor took the seat next to him. A little close, perhaps. It made Martin nervous.
Arthur was lost. He had looked for toblerones everywhere, but never could he find the triangular shaped chocolate bar. But he kept looking, since it kept his mind from that awful doctor with his awful things he said about Douglas. Douglas was brilliant! That doctor did not know Douglas at all. Arthur had tried the ground floor, the first floor, where he found a nice little restaurant and some other floors of the hospital. Nowhere was a shop to be found. But even though he was lost, Arthur had a nice time. He thought hospitals were brilliant! They made people better, you could talk to anyone and you could learn so much from them. Like that lovely old lady in the wheelchair. Okay, she screamed at him and after a while threw a vase at him, but still. What a lovely lady non the less. Arthur found a sign, stating that he was on the fifth floor. And still he was looking for... what was he looking for again? Actually, he had forgotten what he was looking for ages ago. Walking in and out every door he found, occasionally talking to people in their beds and occasionally dodging things they threw at him, made him forget the main purpose of why he was there. He wanted to start a nice conversation with a grumpy old nurse in the hallway, but suddenly he heared a familiar voice out of the nearest room.
"...thus resulting in GERTI being quite the rabbit of negative euphoria." Arthur dashed into the room, finding a rather surprised Douglas sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked different, in that standard paper hospital gear instead of his pilot uniform.
"Douglas!"cried Arthur loudly. He ran to the first officer and hugged him tightly. A little tear escaped from its prison and rolled down his cheek.
"Arthur!" was the surprised reply. Douglas tried to push Arthur away, but the steward was hugging him too strongly.
"Arthur, could you please let me go now? It's getting rather uneasy."
"Sorry Douglas."
"I-I-I beg your pardon?" asked Martin, blushing more severly then ever before.
"I just wanted to be sure," explained doctor Blessed.
"Wel-wel...wel. I do nót, I repeat, nót have a relationship with him," said Martin. He tried to state this as firmly as he could, "He is... We are not... He is just my first officer. We are airline pilots. W-we don't... We are not in a relationship!"
"Aha,"was the reply. The doctor moved a bit closer to Martin and his voice got a bit lower, "But, you are close?"
"We are both from a small airline firm, so we are stuck with... We fly around the world together, but that's all!"
"So... you are not in a relationship then?"
"No! No!" Martin tried to regain himself, "...no."
"Ah," the doctor thought about his next sentence but quickly made up his mind and hit Martin with his most charming and warm smile he could produce.
"Well, Martin, I was just saying... That if I was a woman, I probably would fancy you and...even now I'm a man as well."
"What? You were a woman?"
"So... Martin and Carolyn are also here?"
"Yeah! Martin and I brought you here, but mum is here because Hercules got attacked by a sheep!" Arthur seemed really proud to have helped bringing Douglas to the hospital. Douglas quickly hid his smile.
"Did he? I never imagined Herc being such a sheep person."
"Me neither, but mum said he broke his leg while a sheep was attacking him. He has open wounds and everything!" Arthur was quite interested by the injuries. He tried to mime the type of injuries, but failed miserably. "Mum had to drag him into the car and carry him into the hospital."
"I always thought your mother had some unusual strength."
"Douglas," began Arthur, "The doctor said some awful things about you."
"Did he?"
"Yes, he said you were in-intoxu... that you were drunk." Arthur looked at Douglas with hope in his eyes. "You weren't drunk, right? Douglas?" The first officer sighed.
"I don't know what happened Arthur. You know I have been sober for 9 years."
"So, how can the doctor say that?" Arthur always was the hopeful cheery person, but he now looked at Douglas like he betrayed him. Douglas did not know how it could happen himself. He was baffled by the tests. He tried to argue with the doctor about the results. He still had some knowledge about medicine from his old college years. However, the doctor did not want to listen. And now even Arthur doubted him. Douglas sighed and did what he always did, when things got nasty.
"That reminds me, Arthur," he quickly changed the subject, "Your mother and Herc... Are they a couple now?" Arthur shrugged.
"I don't know. Mum doesn't like me asking. But it is nice, I think," his face brightened a little again, "Wouldn't it be great if it were?"
"What your mother and Hercules a couple?"
"Yeah! He could tell us his brilliant stories and maybe he can help us with GERTI if one of us gets sick."
"Really, Arthur? You want Herc as your stepfather?"
"What?" Arthur was confused, "No, I meant that mum...Wait," he began to think, "You mean mum and Herc...Oh,no. Noooooo!" Arthur chuckled and gave Douglas a friendly pat on the back, "No, Douglas. You're wrong there. Mum and Hercules are just friends."
"Aha. And you think it is normal for friends to stay at their house for the night?"
"Well, I don't know if... Maybe she did not pick up the phone, because she was sleeping and... I know I said she wasn't home but... No!"
"If she wasn't home and she didn't pick up the phone, what did you think she was doing?"
"She-she..." Arthur tried his best not to think about things his mother would do with the other airline captain. "It was probably late and she stayed at a hotel."
"A hotel, Arthur? While she always tries to save money?" Arthur became more and more helpless. Douglas gave Arthur a firm, but friendly pat on the head.
"If you are convinced they're just friends, they probably are."
"Stop your whining Hercules," Carolyn said sharply to the, normally charming, airline captain. The now severely wounded airline captain tried his best not to cry out of pain. Carolyn continued: "Apart from that stupidly broken leg of yours, you're completely fine."
"I am not, Carolyn!"
"Oh, good heavens. Are you a man, or a little girl?" Hercules decided not to answer that question. He was rather glad that that part was still fine. His leg was now in a cast and a nurse from the dinosaur era was treating his other wounds. Right now, she was disinfecting the wounds on his arm. Carolyn crossed her arms for her chest and sighed.
"This event is rather an unfortunate one."
"Oh, is it really?" replied Hercules sarcastic.
"I don't mean you, you berk!" said Carolyn, "I mean that Arthur has seen us."
"Arthur?"
"Yes. There was a little...accident with Douglas so Arthur and Martin had brought him here. And now he has seen us."
"I wasn't aware that our relationship was a secret one," the syrup voiced captain answered. He wanted to know more about Douglas, but with one look at Carolyn he kept himself quiet. The nurse pressed the disinfective quite firmly to the open wound and Hercules winced for a nano-second. Carolyn grimaced, but quickly put on her normal I-am-not-interested-at-all face.
"To be fair, it was not really a secret, but the thing with Arthur is...He can think differently than other people do."
"I am aware of that." Hercules had been talking to Arthur a couple of times now and although the conversations were really amusing, he could not always grasp the way Carolyn's son was looking at the world.
"And if he will be starting to think about you and me... O, heaven forbid in what kind of fresh hell we'll be throwing ourselves in." Finally the nurse had treated all the wounds and Hercules pushed the monument gently aside.
"You know,"said he, trying to put his smile back on his face, "This all wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for your ridiculous dog."
Doctor Adam Blessed blinked a couple of times. He was confused. "What?" His smile faded for a couple of seconds, but reappeared again. "Oh, no no. Martin, I never was a woman. When I said that I..."
"Oh okay," interrupted Martin, "Otherwise it would be..." Martin began to ponder about the sentence again: 'If I was a woman... I would fancy you...and even as a man...I do?'
However, his mouth uttered the rest of the line he tried to say: "be a little odd to tell me now." Martin looked at the doctor. Doctor Blessed, Martin could call him Adam, looked back with something that seemed like hope in his eyes. Martin made an O with his mouth. Everything fell into place now. Those weird questions and the way he looked at him.
"Oh, God no!" Martin cried. He jumped off his seat, flushed with confused embarrassment. His hat fell of his head, but he did not notice. Doctor Blessed also stood up.
"Martin?"
Martin walked backwards towards the door, uttering every apology he could think of. He was so confused and embarrassed, he did not even tell that grey eyed photo-model of a doctor he was not gay. When he reached the door, he quickly ran through the hall, towards the elevators. Doctor Blessed called after him, but he did not hear what he said and he decided not to look back. When he reached the elevator, he stepped in and pushed a random button.
The elevator made a soft ringing noise and a warm female voice muttered something, Martin could not make out what it was. He stepped out of the elevator. He needed to think. About what happened to day...to hím.
'How could he... Why did he think...I never...Did I?' Martin could hardly finish his own thoughts. He walked into the first room he saw. It was empty, quite cool and had a large wall, entirely full of what appeared to be drawers. Martin sat down on a chair, next to a metal table and began to ponder.
'How could I possibly think, I could handle this situation?'he thought, 'Okay, Douglas is not dead, but... All of this... It's just my luck!' There was a soft noise, probably from the other room behind that wall with the drawers. It sounded, like someone was sighing quite loudly. Martin listened carefully for someone heading his way, but there were no other sounds. He moved in his chair and began to think about his pathetic life again. The fact that it was much cooler here than in the waiting room was actually really nice. It helped him to think more clearly. And until someone came into this room and shooed him away, he could just stay here. Martin fumbled with his epaulets and remembered why he came to the hospital in the first place. This awful hospital, with these awful doctors.
'Well...to be fair, doctor Blessed is not awful. He is actually a really nice man. And really handsome too... No, no-no-no! What on Earth am I thinking?' Martin buried his head in his hands and moaned in despair. It was not that he had something against... people who were attracted to the same sex. But he was pretty sure he was not one of them. Martin sighed and put a hand through his hair, so it was a messy bunch on his head. He never thought that the only person who would fall for him was... a man.
Again there was a noise like someone was sighing. It was soft, but nearby. Martin looked around. Still no-one.
'I wonder what are in those drawers. It is really quiet in here.' He stood up from his chair and walked towards the door.
'There should be sómeone around here, shouldn't it?' He popped his head out and looked into the hallway.
"Hello?" His voice echoed slightly against the white walls. He retreated back into the room and walked to the wall with the drawers. What was in there? Large batches of medicine perhaps? Gosh, these drawers were big enough to fit a man. He had his hand on the handle of one of the drawers, but hesitated. He probably should not be here in the first place. And what would be in the drawers, was probably not for people to see. He let go of the handle and walked back to his seat. His mind got fixed on the situation he was in.
'Why on Earth, would someone be interested in me?' he thought. The question surprised him. He often had asked himself why someone would nót be interested in him. He even, at one time, made a list of reasons why people would not be interested in him. It became rather a long list. A really long list. It took Arthur a day to get Martin back to his usual self again. Douglas once noticed that his usual self was a few inches above chronic depression. But nów he was thinking about things that were interesting about him.
'Well... I ám an airline pilot. I am a captain even. That is interesting, right? And I know alot about aviation... and planes. I know tonnes about planes. And games. I play games... well, mostly flight simulator games, but still, games.' A little smile appeared on his lips, while he was thinking about all the things that could be interesting about him.
'All those things are interesting, right? Yes! I am interesting. Quite alot, if I may say so myself.'
"Captain Martin Crieff," he said softly to himself, "You are quite an interesting man indeed." He slammed with his hand on the metal table, which created a chilling echoing sound. For the third time, he heard the sighing sound. It came from the bottom left drawer, he was sure of it. In an instant he stood up and walked to the drawer. He put his hand on the handle and with renewed confidence, he pulled. He gave a loud scream. As fast as he could, he hurried to the elevator. There, he pushed the button with some force, like he wanted to part it from the wall it was in. The elevator arrived quickly and he stepped in. He pushed a random button, muttering that he had to stay calm. The doors of the elevator swiftly separated him from the room he just left, leaving the corpse in the drawer alone again.
While the dinosaur nurse shuffled her way to the door, Carolyn sat down next to Hercules and made a disapproving noise.
"My dog is nót ridiculous, Herc," she told her secret-but-not-so-secret lover.
"Yes it is. Your dog is nothing more than ridiculous."
"First of all, my dog is a she and shé is a noble hound."
"I think I have to disagree with you, Carolyn," Hercules said with a painful smile, "Any dog that carries the name of 'Snoopadoop' cannot possible be noble. Besides, it is not only because she is a... cockerpoodle with a name you are actually embarrassed to say out loud, but she is the whole reason why I'm lying here with a broken leg."
"Don't be such a berk, Herc," Carolyn immediately replied, "It was not my dog that attacked you. It was a black sheep, remember?" Hercules grimaced by the memory of that monster of a black beast.
"I remember to have told you many times before, that sheep are awful creatures."
"Says the only airline pilot, who cannot see a little lam and scream," Carolyn replied. She crossed her arms for her chest. "My goodness. The only sheep you nééd to be afraid of..."
"Incidentally walked loose on the road, where we were walking," Hercules complemented her sentence, "It attacked me, all because of your so called 'noble hound'."
"You cannot blame my dog for your injuries!"
"It was because of your dog, we were there in the first place!"
"Herc," began Carolyn with her do-not-dare-to-imply-that face, "If you are trying to suggest that my dog arranged for those sheep to be there, made them to cross the road just as we were walking there... let me say you are pushing the limits."
"No, ofcourse not. But she díd attack the herd."
"She did nothing of the sorts! Maybe, she nibbled playfully at the leg of one of those sheep..."
"And in that way created chaos among the entire herd. At which the big black ram decided to attack me."
"And why do you think the ram decided to attack you?"
"Because your ridiculous dog fled from the crime scene and hid behind my legs." Carolyn was silent for a moment, but she looked grumpy. She turned to the airline captain again.
"I don't know what that sheep did to your head, but I did not remember anything happen like that.
"Right, so the monstrous beast gave me a concussion, crushed my leg and bit pieces of flesh off because... I was there?" Carolyn did not reply directly. Hercules was obviously still cross with her little doggie. She only wanted to play. Also Hercules made it quite clear that he did not approve of the way she handled the situation. But she just couldn't move, lying on the ground laughing at that ridiculous display of a black sheep chasing the poor airline captain. The ram was a very stubborn and ferocious one, she had to admit. By the time the 3 shepherds responsible for the herd, were able to pull the ram away from him, the former charming captain was transformed into a greatly hurt and messy captain.
Hercules said something Carolyn did not hear. She was thinking about poor little Snoopadoop. She was luckily not hurt or anything, but she was quite scared and because she had to drop Hercules off at the hospital, she had to leave her with her neighbour. Not that there was anything wrong with her neighbour, but he did never have to take care of Snoopadoop in such a situation. And to make all matters worse, Arthur was at the hospital as well. She could not imagine the amount of bad luck hitting her at once this day. With a first officer who was severely intoxicated after being sober for many years, Hercules who blamed poor Snoopadoop for his own failure and Arthur finding out about his mother having a relationship with an airline captain from another airline.
'Poor Arthur. What would go on his mind? Probably he is still looking for toblerones. Hopefully.'
"I said, where is she now?" repeated Hercules, while he poked her gently on her shoulder.
"Who?"
"Your ridiculous dog ofcourse."
"Oh, calling her ridiculous but still care about her, don't you? She is with mister Laurie." Hercules looked confused.
"Who is mister Laurie?"
"My neighbour, ofcourse. He always watches after her, when Arthur and I are away. He is a very nice gentleman. Tall, educated and not at all afraid of sheep." Hercules sighed. He knew she would use any way possible to get that fact in there. Carolyn stood up.
"I have to go."
"O? That is quite sudden. And where are you running off to?"
"I am not running off to anyone."
"I asked where, not to who," Hercules got a bit irritated, "But by all means. Why stay at the side of the person who protected your noble hound and got molested by a monster sheep in the process?"
"Don't be a berk, Herc," said Carolyn firmly, "I have to see Douglas, remember? I need to see if he is fit enough to fly to Cairo tomorrow."
"What was the news?"asked Hercules, suddenly extremely interested.
"He got severely intoxicated."
"Intoxicated?" a little smile appeared on his lips, "Poor old Douglas. The glass finally got him down." Carolyn quickly stood up.
"Indeed. Right, I should go. Martin and Arthur are waiting for me." Probably that was not true at all. Martin would probably still be stuck in that little room, being chatted up by that handsome doctor and Arthur was hopefully still busy looking for toblerones.
"So, you're leaving me here then?" asked Hercules, "All alone, in this hospital?"
"Ofcourse not," replied Carolyn sweetly, "I called your daughter. She is on her way now. She will take care of you." And with those words, she left the room and waited for the elevator to come.
"Martin, what happened to you?" asked Carolyn. Martin took a deep breath to answer her, but Carolyn stopped him again.
"Wait!.. I don't care." She stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor. It was not entirely true, she did not care. She always thought the stuttering fool of an airline captain had enough problems to be attrackted to women. However, she never cared to ask him about personal life, outside the flying part. And if he had to come out of the non-existing closet, that doctor was quite good looking.
"Martin," she started, but he saw her expression and shook his head.
"I rather don't want to talk about it," was all he said, making Carolyn even more curious. But she only shrugged. The elevator stopped and they both stepped out of the metal box.
"By the way, Martin, have you seen Arthur?" asked Carolyn.
"No, I was quite busy... He was looking for toblerones, right?"
"And indeed I think he still is looking for them. I'll call him when we have visited Douglas." Martin nodded and ran another hand through his hair, which created the effect of putting a log on the fire while there was a storm outside. Carolyn wondered if she ever could leave the MJN crew alone for a couple of minutes, without them creating potential worldwide disaster.
Her thoughts were rudely disturbed by a loud roar coming from one of the rooms. The big roar was followed by the shouting of, what Martin and Carolyn recognized as the first officer Douglas Richardson. Carolyn and Martin looked at each other for a moment, before they ran off to the room the shouting was coming from. Douglas was raging like a madman. Doctor Blessed needed all of his strenght to hold him back. Arthur had his back against the opposite wall, acting out a perfect rabbit of negative euphoria. Douglas managed to escape the doctors' grip and jump towards Arthur, but doctor Blessed could prevent Douglas from reaching the poor steward.
"Maggie!" shouted the doctor, "I need assistence! Come here quickly!" There was an answer from the hallway, but no-one appeared yet. Douglas roared again as some kind of wild animal, imprisoned by the photogenic doctor.
"What is going on here?" asked Carolyn with a raised voice. Douglas looked at the new visitors with a look of pure murder in his eyes, but the look on his employers' face seemed to calm him down a bit. At least he stopped shouting and did not try to reach Arthur.
"Mum!"cried Arthur, "Hi!" It was not really clear whether he was happy or more terrified. Doctor Blessed held on to Douglas for a bit longer, so it looked like he was hugging a shaven raging bear, but eventually let go.
"Carolyn," said Douglas through gritted teeth.
"Douglas, so glad you are awake again," replied Carolyn calmly, "What is going on?"
"Do you have any idea, how big of a crazy clot you have raised?"
"I'm not a clot!" said Arthur with his last strenght, "And I'm not crazy. Mum has got me tested!"
"Carolyn wanted to give a reply, but Martin stepped between them.
"A-anyway, let us remain calm, shall we?" he tried, "Let us sort this out with the minimum amout of fuss. It does not help, if we are going to slaughter each other."
"There is not need for that. If you want someone to be dead, just drop them of at this hospital," mumbled Douglas. Doctor Blessed did not react. He was looking at Martin, who stood like a brave soldier that decided to jump on the timebomb, if necessary.
"Stop it, Douglas," said Martin, "You are angry at Arthur, we get it. But would you please tell us, why you are angry?"
"I am angry at Arthur, because hé," Douglas pointed to Arthur, "is the main reason why I am here. He is the reason why I get blamed for drinking and he is the reason why I am in this bloody hospital."
"What happened then?"
"Well, if you want to know the story, I'll tell you the story."
It was quite boring in the secret-but-not-secret bar at Fitton Airfield. It was supposed to be Skittles night, but there were not enough participants to let it last for very long. Arthur was at the bar as well. He should not be here, but he was so depressed after that flight for mister Burling, Douglas just could not let him be. It was the last night of the Hose and Hydrant anyway. Tomorrow they would move it somewhere else, so it was Alright to bring Arthur along. George already had lifted Arthurs spirit by doing the impressions of his favourite fruit, but still. Douglas would have Arthur get another drink, before sending him home. Arthur was now talking to Dirk, the groundsman, who was sipping his usual and completely ignored the enthousiastic steward. Douglas was talking to a stewardess, who was unfortunate enough to spent the night at Fitton. He was not really interested in her. With her two pound make-up on, she still looked like Carolyns' little sister. Somehow, she reminded him of his first ex-wife. He suddenly caught himself wondering how she was doing, but he quickly put those thoughts aside.
"So, why are you bound to this little piece of nowhereland?" he asked her. She wanted to answer, but Arthur had joined the conversation.
"You know, you look like one of the people from Hells Angels!" He smiled.
"He certainly means Charlies Angels," corrected Douglas quickly, but it was too late. She excused herself and left the bar with another chap from the groundstaff.It was about two o'clock.
"Come on, Arthur,"said Douglas, trying to get the steward out of the pub, "You probably should go home. Carolyn must be worried about you."
"Oh, no she isn't," replied Arthur, brushing Douglas'hand away, "She is not at home, right now."
"Oh."
"Yeah, and she isn't coming back till tomorrow. She told me herself."
"Really? But where is she then?" Arthur shrugged.
"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me. She is away a lot lately."
"And you are... okay, with this?"
"Yes ofcourse," answered Arthur, "Anyway, she is much happier nowadays. I don't know why...but it is nice." Douglas decided not to go on about it. What Carolyn did in her spare time, was her choice. However, it was curious she would not tell her own son about it. Arthur quickly changed the subject and began to tell about a magic trick he saw on television. Douglas listened half to the story with a tiger or something, till George joined the group.
"Come on Douglas," he said, "What about a nice drinking game?" he raised his glass.
"Better not now George," said Douglas, pointing at Arthur, "Maybe later."
A mobile phone went off. Everyone looked for theirs, while Douglas put a damaged old Nokia out of one of his pockets. It was Martins' old phone. The tune went on for a couple of seconds, till it went to voicemail mode. Douglas looked at the excuse for a phone. It was real fun to see Martin desperately looking for it. Douglas would have given it back, but by the time he was bored with it, Martin actually had bought another phone.
'I wonder who was calling him,' thought Douglas. He found the number to listen to the voicemail and was surprised by the lovely female voice that left a message.
"Hey Martin, it's Rose...again. I was just wondering where you are at the moment. Probably in your plane again...as always. Just call me back as soon as possible, alright? Bye." The message ended there.
'Wow. A woman,'thought Douglas,'I wonder where he found her.'
"Who was it Douglas?" asked Arthur, "Was it mum with another job?" He took another look at the phone and gasped. "Hé, isn't that Martins' phone? Where did you get it?"
"Indeed it is, Arthur," replied Douglas, thinking quickly,"I just found it. You know what? I'll text him right away, so I can give it back."
"Oh, how lovely. Martin will be so surprised. A shame though, now he had to buy another phone in Paris."
"Yes." Douglas grabbed his own phone and texted Martin.
'Where are you?'
George got back. "Oh, come on Douglas. It's getting boring now. Why not play a game?"
The other guests of the Hose and Hydrant agreed loudly.
"Okay. And what kind of game are you thinking of then?"
"I know," said David suddenly, "Why not play Stolich?" Everyone began to cheer.
"Stolich, yeah!"
"Let's do Stolich!"
"Do the game! Stolich, Stolich!"
"What do you think, Douglas?" asked George, "Ready to get the game out?" Douglas thought for a moment.
"Oh, what the hell. Why not?" replied Douglas with a smile, "If you put everything together. I'll get the drinks." The crowd cheered again and everyone was suddenly busy with preparations. Douglas, in the meantime, gestured to Arthur to follow him.
"What is this game, Douglas?" began Arthur, but Douglas put a finger on his lips.
"I'll explain it to you, but you have to listen carefully." Douglas looked around, whether someone was listening to them and continued, "There are 2 bottles of Stolichnaya. We are going to use these bottles for the game. Now, I want you to do something for me. You take this bottle and the Talisker bottle, okay, and you empty the Talisker bottle. Then you fill the Talisker bottle with the content of the other bottle and fill the other bottle with water. Do you get this?"
"Empty the Talisker bottle and fill it with the other bottle. Then fill the other bottle with water."
"Yes," Douglas was surprised, but moved on, "Because there is another bottle, that looks exactly the same, you need to mark one of the bottles. Then you bring both bottles to me."
"And the Talisker?"
"You put the Talisker back to its rightful place... Now, do you get that?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now go."
"But Douglas," began Arthur, but Douglas pushed him away with the bottles in his arms. Douglas began to help others with clearing the pub, until there was a wide gap surrounding a table with 2 chairs.
After a short while, Arthur returned. He gave Douglas the 2 bottles. One of the Stolichnaya bottles had a pink bow around its neck. Douglas smiled.
" Alright. Is everything settled?" he asked loudly to the others.
"We're all set," answered George, "Carl here, has taken up the task to defeat you."
"Oh did he?" Douglas lowered his voice, "Let us see about that then." Carl smiled back, a bit too relaxed.
"Ready to swallow your defeat, Douglas?" he teased, as the first officer put the bottles on the table. Douglas made sure the bottle with the bow was on his side.
"Ehm, Douglas?" began Arthur, but Carl teased Douglas some more.
"I bet you can't even drink 3 glasses of this, without fainting to the floor."
"O really? Do you want to make a personal bet then?" asked Douglas, rubbing his hands.
"Why not? Otherwise it's not use to play the game, is it?"
"Well, why not make it interesting then? The first one to finish the bottle wins. The winner gets 3 months worth of salary from the loser." Carl squinted, to see through any lies.
"I didn't know you could lose so much money Douglas."
"Are you on?" Douglas reached out his hand. Carl thought for a second.
"Alright. You're on," Carl replied, shaking Douglas' hand.
"Ehm, Douglas. I really need to talk to you," tried Arthur again, but nobody listened.
"Okay, ready?" asked David, "In 3, 2, 1... Go!" The crowd began to cheer for the fellow they had their money on. Carl already chucked in the first glass. Douglas just smiled, screwed the cap of the bottle and said: "Cheers."
Douglas put the bottle to his lips. In one long drink, he emptied the bottle of Stolichnaya.
"Well, what about that?" he asked, smiling devilishly at Carl. The bystanders bursted out in loud cheering. Carl looked surprised and confused. He sniffed at his own bottle.
"Don't just sit there, Carl. Give us a round," said Douglas, standing up, "Everyone, drinks by Carl!" Everyone cheered again and went to the bar to get another drink. Arthur looked at Douglas with an expression that could not be placed. Douglas rubbed his temples. He felt dizzy. His head felt a bit fuzzy, but drinking a litre of water in one go is not good for you either. But it was all for a good cause. Filling Douglas his pockets with money. He shook his head and walked to the bar, happily accepting all the congratulations of the other guests. The fun did not last long though, because the fire alarm went off.
"Another job at the strip, guys. Move out," said Phillip. Everyone grumbled, but they left the station. Quickly the Hose and Hydrant was empty, save for Douglas, Arthur, Carl and Dirk.
"Well, wasn't that fun?" said Douglas. His eye felt funny. Probably he was really tired. He should go home soon. But first get that nonsense captain to react. Douglas texted Martin another message: 'Where are you?'
"Okay, congratulations Douglas," said Carl, still a bit confused but smiling, "I really thought I had you this time."
"You should know better than that, Carl. I am a master at winning."
"It certainly was really brave. You really earned the money."
"Thank you, Carl. You're a real sport." Douglas gave Carl a pat on the back. At least, he was aiming for the back. He missed the Carls' back completely and hit Carl on the ear instead.
"Hé, what are you doing?"
"My apologies Carl," said Douglas, slightly confused, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm probably a bit tired."
"And you show that by hitting me on the ear?"
"My eyes are not what they used to be. Even though they are good enough for flying, sometimes when I'm tired, I mistake someones' ear for a fly."
"Douglas, are you allright?" asked Arthur. Douglas now remembered that Arthur expressed worry. Douglas smiled brightly and grabbed his bottle of Talisker.
"Ofcourse Arthur. Come on, lets celebrate my victory with a sip of my hard earned Talisker." Before Arthur could stop him, Douglas took a large gulp from the Talisker bottle.
"Fine as always," he said, while he poured himself a glass. Arthurs' expression had changed from worrying to afraid.
"Douglas, I think you should stop drinking now."
"Nonsense, I can handle it. After all, it's almost like water to me."
"I'm not really sure..."
"Stop whining Arthur," Douglas interrupted, "I'm not Martin you know... I am mé!" He threw his hands in the air, spilling half of his glass on the floor.
"I think I should go now," said Carl, quickly grabbing his coat, "Good luck, Arthur."
"But..."
"See you around." Carl quickly dissapeared, leaving Arthur with a weird acting Douglas and Dirk.
Dirk was still sipping his own drink, while Douglas sat on a chair singing loudly and drinking from the Talisker bottle. After a moment of silence, because Douglas tried to remember the next verse of the song, Arthur began to clap.
"That was magnificent, Douglas. Now let's do Those magnificent men in their flying machines and then go home."
"No," said Douglas, "No, no, no-no... There is something... I need to do." He looked at his phone, with one eye because the other still felt funny.
"Maybe we can do that at home," tried Arthur, "It's almost 4, so..." Arthur tried to grab the phone, but Douglas was still quicker. And stronger.
"Come on, Douglas. We have to go home."
"No... I need to do zomething first." Douglas tried to get up from his chair, but sat down again. His head was really fuzzy. He tried again. He could just grab the table, before he would fall. He muttered a curse under his breath.
"Douglas?" Arthur tried to help Douglas, but Douglas pushed him away.
"I'm fine, fine-fine. Let's hav'som fun!" Douglas pushed himself back up again. He staggered for a little while, walked two full steps and tripped over his own feet. He fell down... and did not stand up.
"Douglas?" asked Arthur. Douglas did not react. "Douglas?" Athur tried again. He gently poked the first officer on the cheek. Douglas did not move.
"Oh no." Arthur panicked. Douglas was not moving. Something went wrong. What could he do? Arthur was just a steward. He was used to do as was told. Not to think himself. If he thought himself, others usually laughed at him. What was wrong with Douglas?
"Aha," sounded behind Arthur. Arthur started. Dirk came closer, putting his glass down. "He is out, is he?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, after so much booze, you can't live right, right?" Dirk smiled, but it did not have the wanted effect.
"You mean... What?" Arthur started to panick even more.
'O my God, he is dead he is dead he is dead he is dead. And it's all my fault." Dirk sighed.
"You better getting him home, I guess."
"Home?"
"Yeah, you can't let him leave here, can you?"
'Oh my God, he is dead and if I leave him here they think I killed him. I didn't... did I? I helped him. He drank water. He definitely drank water. But he also drank from the Talisker bottle. What did I do with the Talisker bottle again? Oh No! I killed him!'
"I'm off as well. Shall I help you putting him into your car?" asked Dirk, still trying to be friendly.
"Yes, please," answered Arthur with a soft voice. Even when in panic, he was still polite. Just as his mother taught him that. Dirk grabbed the first officer from the floor and with some effort they got Douglas into Arthurs'car. Dirk found a nice pair of shades in the glove box and put them on Douglas.
"So, all set. I'm leaving now... Good luck kid," and without another word Dirk left the two MJN members alone.
'Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God. I'm in a car with a dead person. And that dead person is Douglas! No-no-no! He can't be dead. He just can't".'
Arthur shook Douglas, which only resulted in Douglas his head going up and down. He still had a smile on his face.
'What do I do what do I do what do I do? Mum! I need to call mum!' Arthur tried to call his mother, but she did not answer.
"No-no-no-no no!"
Suddenly he remembered what she had told him: "If I can't be reached, you can always try those idiots of a pilots. I'm sure Douglas or Martin can help you with your problems." So Arthur called Martin. A phone rang. It was Martin's old phone.
Luckily Arthur remembered the new phone number. He wanted to call him... but suddenly he hesitated.
'Martin is probably asleep. He looked really tired yesterday. And I don't know where he is. Maybe I better text him.'
And so he waited. In the car, with a possibly dead first officer on the front seat, waiting for an answer.
"He gave me alcohol, while I thought it was water!"
"No I didn't. I did not know it was alcohol!" cried Arthur, "I did exactly, like you told me to."
"Apparently not, or I wouldn't be here, you clot!"
"I'm not a clot."
"Calm down everyone," interrupted the doctor graciously, "Don't let things get out of hand."
"It already did," replied Carolyn, "What else can you call this disaster of an first officer, who almost died of alcohol intoxication while he was sober for 9 years?"
"A joke, that got out of hand."
"It certainly did," replied Martin quickly, before Carolyn could make a stingy reply, "But that does not mean we have to kill each other."
"He almost did! That is the whole point!" shouted Douglas.
"But not on purpose," tried Martin to get the conversation in calmer water, "I mean... It's Arthur."
"Hé!" shouted Arthur, who got the nerve to hide behind his mother. Douglas did not reply. He was still angry about what happened and it was all Arthurs' fault.
"And by the way, even you had to notice it wasn't water. Vodka can be odourless and colourless, but it definitely does not taste like water," continued Martin.
"He's right, Douglas," supported Carolyn. Doctor Blessed nodded vigorously.
"Yes, but..."
"You're not going to tell us, that you can't taste the difference between water and vodka anymore, are you?" asked Martin, feeling better and better at this. There were people, who thought he was saying the right thing. Nobody was shouting at him. He might be good at this.
"It was not... I..." Douglas, for the first time in a long, long time, did not know what to say.
"Douglas!" cried a woman in the door opening suddenly. Everybody turned around, to see the soggy old nurse from the dinosaur era.
"Maggie!" replied Douglas. His eyes grew large from disbelieve. "What on Earth, are you doing here?"
"I work here, you big insensitive clot!" Maggie replied angry. She looked more and more like a dinosaur. She stamped into the room, until she reached doctor Blessed.
"Is this the reason I had to hurry here?" she asked sharply.
"Ehm..." the doctor was a bit lost for words, "He tried to attack someone."
"I don't see anyone wounded."
"Because I prevented him to hurt someone."
"So you actually didn't need me then. Or did you call me on purpose to meet up with my ex-husband?"
"Ex-husband?" Carolyn said out loud. Arthur looked at the nurse with a puzzled expression. If this was Douglas his first ex-wife, she probably looked different then. Nobody could imagine Douglas with such a...a...ehm. There was not really a word for her. Maggie snorted and looked at Douglas.
"What are you doing here?"
"I... I got..." Douglas was searching for words. Maggie did not wait for his answer, but grabbed the clipboard and looked through the sheets.
"Intoxicated...hmmm. Not really a surprise there."
"I've been sober for 9 years!"
"Have you?" She did not look convinced "And still, you have more alcohol in your system than most doctors thought was possible... At least, without dying within minutes."
"Nothing of this is your concern," said Douglas quickly and firm. Maggie gave him a look. "... Anymore."
"And I'm glad of that situation." She gave doctor Blessed a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be off then. See you at home, darling," and she shuffled away. Everyone now looked at doctor Blessed.
"You... are married...to her?"
"Yes," was the only answer the doctor could give.
Martin was confused and felt weird. He did not know what to do now. Douglas seemed to have cooled down, at the sight of his first ex-wife, so the chance of him killing Arthur had faded away. Carolyn was the only one, who seemed to be thinking now.
"So, Douglas... Apart from all curiosities, are you able to fly tomorrow?"
"What?" Douglas needed his brain to restart again, "Ah... Y-yes. Doctor?"
"Indeed. The tests returned negative, so he can fly."
"Wonderful. Best get back to Herc then. Do you come with me, Arthur? We need to talk to you."
"Righto!" answered Arthur, already happy he was still alive.
Now there were Martin, Douglas and doctor Blessed left in the room.
"Ehm..." began Martin, "I'll be leaving then. Need to get a cab home, so..."
"Oh, I can bring you, captain," said doctor Blessed quickly, "My shift is almost over."
"No-no, no thank you. That is not necessary," Martin replied firmly, "I'll get a taxi."
"Okay... Then, maybe it's time I give you this back." Doctor Adam Blessed gave Martin his hat. It was a bit dirty from the floor, but for the rest in one piece. Martin got red on the cheeks and stuttered a thank you.
As fast as he could, he walked out of the hospital, firmly holding his hat. He waited for the taxi, which came within 15 minutes, so that was not so bad. Before he stepped in, he looked once more at the fifth floor of the hospital. Doctor Blessed waved behind the window. Martin waved back. The doctor was married, so a friendly wave could not hurt. Could it? With a sigh he stepped in the taxi.
'I sure hope tomorrow will be a bit more normal.'
The 'genuine' Pathek Philippe played the tune of the Simpsons again and Martin opened his eyes. It was still dark.
'You got to be kidding me,' he thought sleepy. He checked the time with the clock on his phone. It was indeed seven in the morning. Martin moaned, but decided to get out of bed. He cleverly bumped his head just slightly to the ceiling, since after all these years he still forgot that he was taller than the room. It did not happen often, something being shorter than him.
After a short shower he checked his phone again. He had bought it in Paris, after the other one mysteriously had disappeared from his room. It was a nice phone, but he still was not used to those French settings. He had tried many times to change the language, but it still got stuck on French.
Now he noticed the three messages, which were cleverly hidden under the tab messages. They were all sent between 3 and 4 in the morning and the first two were from Douglas. The last message was send from Arthurs' fifth-hand phone. Surprisingly, the three messages were all the same.
"Where are you?"
Martin stared at the texts with a sleepy confusion. Nothing had happened, since they arrived yesterday from Paris.
He texted back to both during breakfast, pondering why they had texted him at such hours.
An hour later, one of the students knocked on his door. Martin, who was reading a book with an airplane on the cover, looked up.
"What is it Andrew?"
"Some people are here for you, mister Crieff," answered Andrew. He looked a bit worried. "They said you to hurry."
Martin put down the book and got up, again bumping his head.
'Probably Carolyn got another another job,' he thought, while he rubbed his head. He grabbed his emergency pilot bag and his hat and went downstairs.
There was a car waiting outside, but it was not Carolyns'.
"Skip, hurry up!" yelled Arthur from the drivers seat. Martin quickly walked up to the car. Douglas sat next to Arthur, with a very fancy pair of shades over his eyes and a little smirk on his lips.
"What's all this fuss, Arthur? What is going on?" Martin asked.
"I'll explain everything on the way. Please get in."
"Is thís your car?" Martin opened the car door and backed away, "Eugh, what is that smell?"
"If it smells like duffle coats, that is the normal smell," Arthur quickly replied, "Now get in, so we can go."
"What do you mean by "if it smells like"?" asked Martin, while he sat down and regrettably closed the door, "Do you mean I have to smell something different as well?"
It was silent for a moment, while Arthur tried to get the car started again. "...No."
"Arthur!"
Arthur fidgeted with some buttons and tried to start the car again. There was some noise, but not a good sounding one. Arthur looked...panicky. Suddenly he smacked his hands on the dashboard, roaring and telling the car how bad she was.
“ You bad car. Start already! I said start! You bad, bad car!” Martin was lightly shocked. Arthur was not like this. Not often, in any case.
"Arthur," he said with a soothing voice, "What is going on?"
"It's Douglas, Skip," said Arthur with panic in his voice. He looked at the airline pilot, with fear in his eyes.
Martin almost forgot about the first officer. He was still sitting in the front seat, with his shades over his eyes and the little smirk on his face. He had not moved for the whole time. Nor had he said anything.
"What happened?"
Arthur started crying.
"I think he is dead, Skip."
He is alive!
Martin looked at the figure in the front seat. He lightly pressed his fingers on Douglas his neck and sighed deeply. Then he smiled to Arthur.
"He is not dead, Arthur," he said, "He has a heartbeat." Arthur kept sobbing, but thanked the heavens. While Martin took another look, he could see Douglas breathing. It was slow, but his chest rose and sank with a certain rhythm.
"Arthur, why did you think Douglas was dead?"
"He didn't move a-and...and I-I... And mum was not at home, s-so..." Arthur fel silent. Martin, more confused by the explanation, laid his hand on Arthurs shoulder.
"It's allright, Arthur. What happened?" Arthur stopped sobbing. He was clearly frightened by the whole situation, but at least he got some colour back on his cheeks. He got a handkerchief from the glove box to blow his nose and took a deep breath.
"We were at the Hose and Hydrant, just having a drink, when Douglas suddenly started to act... strangely."
"Strangely?" Martin raised a ginger eyebrow, "What do you mean by strangely?"
Arthur thought for a while, about how he was going to explain it.
"Well, he started to talk weird and one of his eyes became really red."
"Like... when someone is drunk, perhaps?"
"Yes, but ten times worse!" Arthur used his hands to enforce how much worse it was. Martin gestured Arthur to go on. "And then he started texting someone, talking about something important he wanted to say." Martin suddenly remembered the strange text messages.
"Do you know who it was, he texted?"
"No," Arthur turned completely around to look Martin in the eyes, "He is really strong, you know. Once he took part at a wrestling competition and he even beat Dirk the groundsman. Wow, that was a brilliant match." For a moment, Arthur was his usual self again, thinking about that 'brilliant' match.
"What does his strength has to do with..." asked Martin, but he stopped as they both were startled by the big sigh of the first officer. Douglas was silent again after that. Arthur continued his story again.
"He didn't want anyone to touch his phone," answered Arthur "But he was like that for half an hour and then he fell to the floor. He didn't get up. That was when I tried to reach you and mum."
"That reminds me, where is Carolyn if she isn't home?" Arthur made a nervous noise and it appeared that he was struggling with something. Probably his mother threatened him to not tell something. "Leave it. It is not important right now," continued Martin, "What is important, is to know how long he is like this and what you did further."
"Well, it was around 4 in the morning when I texted you, if I remember well," Arthur said with the difficult look still on his face, "And Douglas did not move from the moment he fell on the floor till now."
"He di... Why didn't you go to the hospital?"
"I panicked, Skip!" cried Arthur, "I didn't know what to do. There was no-one else to help and I can't think when I panic." Martin made a little noise, but did not reply. "And when you texted me back, the only thing I could think off, was to go to you with Douglas and let you tell me what to do." Martin was baffled by everything that came his way in such a short time. Arthur often just waited for Douglas, Carolyn or him to tell hem what to do. But in a situation like this, did he just wait for Martin to tell him where he was, so he could bring Douglas and Martin would tell him what he should do? And how did Arthur manage to get Douglas in the car? Martin thought about what Arthur had said about the first officer.
"How come you are so sure, Douglas is not drunk?" asked Martin after a moment of pondering.
"Because he doesn't drink."
"That is what he says."
"But it was really bad, Skip. It was nothing like I ever experienced." Martin sighed.
"Well... can you get your car to start? Then we can go to the hospital." Arthur did not answer, but tried to turn the key again. After a few seconds, the sound of what was supposed to be a car starting was heard. Arthur gave Martin a hopeful smile and grabbed the steering wheel. Martin glanced at Douglas and pondered: 'I wonder what happened yesterday.'
Forms
"Why didn't you call 999?" Was the first question Martin had to deal with at the hospital.
"Ehm..." he started. He took a glance at Arthur, who began to become his usual self again. He had shouted a couple of times "Brilliant!" to the more impressive injuries in the waiting room. Douglas was somewhere in a bed taken care off. Now, the only thing left were the paperwork and difficult questions.
"We... panicked?" he suggested. Martin had forgotten the emergency number completely when Arthur told him he thought Douglas was dead. And after he found out Douglas was not (dead), he was too busy with soothing Arthur to think about it. And now he had to explain to the nurse behind the plastic window, why he did not cal lthe emergency number. Martin was not very happy about how things started out now.
In fact, he didn't like hospitals at all. He felt insecure and tiny (well, tinier). It was not very good for his self esteem. So, to create more confidence, he had put his captains hat on his head. It helped... a bit. He looked a bit taller, anyway.
The woman behind the plastic window made a face to show that she could easily imagine him panicking and forgetting a 3 digit number. She wrote something down on a piece of paper.
"Do you know anything about his health?" she asked in a monotone voice, "Does he has any allergies, or physical condition?"
"I-I don't know. Arthur?" Martin grabbed Arthur, who was staring at a large open wound, at his sleeve and asked him the question.
"Douglas is allergic to henna," Arthur said immediately.
"Henna?"
"That is right, madame."
"Hmmm," the woman wrote it down, "And does he take any medication?"
"No he doesn't, madam." She crossed a square on the sheet.
"Any history of addiction or abuse of certain substances?" Arthur fel silent.
"I think," began Martin, but he thought for a second. Douglas always said he didn't drink any more. Would that be, because he was an addict? He tried to formulate it more delicate. "He does not drink any more, but I don't know..."
"I know enough," said the nurse, while she wrote the last things down, "If you would take a seat in the waiting room and fill in these forms. I'm sure the doctor will have some news soon." She handed the papers to Martin and directly switched her attention to the next person.
"Arthur, you have to help me with this," said Martin in a soft voice, "I don't know anything about Douglas his..."
"I'm sorry, Skip, but I don't know anything about that either," Arthur replied apologetically. Martin sighed and looked around. 'How on Earth can we help Douglas, if we don't know anything about him?' he thought desperately. He flipped to the stack of papers they had to fill in. He thought he knew Douglas his birth date, profession and gender with some certainty, but the rest was just as unknown to him as the residence of his future girlfriend.
"Well,” he tried, “ Do you have the number of his ex -wife then?"
"Skip!" cried Arthur disgusted, "Ofcourse not. That is his ex-wife!"
"Oh no-no-no-no! Not like that," Martin immediately turned red by the sudden attention, Arthurs' cry created.
"I mean, Skip, she is very good looking, but I never..." Martin tried to sooth him into speaking with less volume.
"No-no Arthur. I-I-I just thought... You know more about Douglas than I do, and maybe you knew her number as the back-up number. For when there would be something wrong with Douglas, you know." Slowly the light of understanding appeared in Arthurs' eyes. "But apparently you haven't," ended Martin with a sigh
"No, Skip, sorry." They both stared at the stack of papers, they had to fill in. Martins' face was still bright red under his hat, while he tried to think.
"Does your mother..."
"As I told you before, I don't know where she is." They were silent for another moment.
"Why?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Why don't you know where she is? You live with her. Doesn't she say where she's going?"
"No," Arthur said simply, "and if I ask, she says it's none of my business."
"Ah." Martin thought about all the things that had happened, since he woke up. This day was even more chaotic than normal.
"Arthur!" cried a womans voice across the waiting room. Carolyn stood at the entrance, a wounded captain Hercules Shipwright under her arm, "What on Earth are you doing here?"
"Mum!" shouted Arthur back. His face was in the midst between terror and happiness.
"Carolyn!" Martin stood up and walked quickly to her, "What happened?"
"Herc got attacked by a sheep."
Where am I?
'That is a nice, soft floor. I didn't know we had such soft floors in Fitton,' thought the confused and drowsy co-pilot. Douglas opened his eyes, but closed them immediately again. The last thing he remembered was the, bit unprofessional, stumble to the ground in the 'Hose and Hydrant' and Arthur yelling his name. It had been a long and tiring day, flying from Paris, where the captain created quite a big mess at customs. And ofcourse Douglas had to sort it all out, losing some of his hard earned income from the Talisker sale. Oh, how he longed to fly with Air England for one more time. Just one more time being captain, instead of that ginger shorty with a hat that rather belonged to Goldfinger. He was sure the Democratic Republic of Congo wanted it back someday.
Douglas opened his eyes again, expecting a worried and chaotic Arthur and some chuckling ground staff. Instead, he saw a white ceiling, a light pink curtain surrounding the bed he was lying in and an uninterested nurse. The nurse did not see him waking up, but changed something next to his bed. Douglas closed his eyes and groaned.
"Aha! Good day mister..." the nurse looked at the chart at the end of the bed, "Richardson."
"Where am I?" Douglas asked. He was surprised by how weird his voice sounded.
"In the hospital, sir," answered the nurse, writing down something on her notebook, "Your friends were very worried about you."
"Friends?" Douglas' head was still fuzzy and he was quite confused. The nurse did not reply. She wrote some more things down and walked away, closing the curtain completely. Douglas tried to sit up, felt his head spin and let himself fall into the pillows again.
'This is not good,' he thought. He lifted the white blanket to check if all his bits were still attached to his body. Judging by the state of the bed and the customer service of the nurse, there was quite a chance they made a... mistake. But everything seemed to be there.
There was a rustling noise and the doctor appeared.
"Good day, mister..." he checked the chart at the end of the bed, "Richardson."
"Where am I?" asked Douglas.
"In the hospital, ofcourse. I am doctor Blessed." The doctor offered Douglas his hand. Douglas looked at it suspiciously, but after a few seconds shook his hand.
"Okay, doctor... Which hospital, if I may ask?"
"All Saints." Douglas groaned again. Carolyn even cut costs when it came to hospitals, apparently. The doctor did not react, but took another look at the chart.
"You are here, because you didn't wake up after you fell on the floor," the doctor read from the paper, "It appeared you were intoxicated..."
"Impossible! I've been sober for 9 years!" cried Douglas. He coughed and swallowed painfully.
"Well, since I have the chart here, stating you had an alcohol level, so you could sell your blood as a liquor brand... I think you had a little to drink." Douglas was baffled.
"But.."
"Sir, what I was saying, the amount of alcohol in your blood was enough to be fatal," the doctor interrupted, "The fact that you are still alive is thanks to...thanks to," he looked at the chart again, flipped through some pages and looked again, "I actually don't know, how you survived this. But you look much better, you are awake, so we just have to run a few tests, before we throw you out again."
"I don't have her number. The only number I have is his home and cell number and the number of his first ex wife," replied Carolyn to Martin, while a male nurse drove Hercules off to be treated for the broken leg and other open wounds.
"Okay, then we call her."
"We can't."
"Why not?" asked Martin, fidgeting with his hat. Carolyn demanded that Martin took off his hat before even allowing his existence. He simply looked ridiculous in his worn down clothes, a blushed face that clashed with his hair and a massive shiny pilot hat. Arthur had walked away again and now stared at an abstract painting on the wall, loudly guessing what it looked like.
"I can't call her, because- Arthur, stop that nonsense immediately!- Because Douglas doesn't have a healthy relationship with his first ex -wife."
"Maybe, but she is the only one who can help us fill in these forms. And she wouldn't let him die, right?" Carolyn made a disapproving noise, but did not answer. Arthur had started to look at the other people in the waiting room again. After a few "Brilliant" patients, he sat next to woman with a large bump on her head and started talking to her.
Martin continued: "Anyway, why do you only have those numbers? He has married two times after that. Why don't you have those?"
"Douglas is not the type to let you into his private life. And probably he thought he would never end up in a situation like this," answered Carolyn in a low voice, "Arthur, stop talking to that poor old girl!"
"Sorry mum!" Arthur replied. He left her with a cheery goodbye, leaving her a lot of information about how mummies are made richer.
Doctor Blessed
While Carolyn and Martin were quarreling about whether or not to call Douglas his first ex -wife, a doctor came into the waiting room. He was quite handsome, with his shiny blond hair, grey eyes and full lips. Under his coat he wore brown trousers and a dark blue shirt that amplified the idea of him being a photo-model, wearing the latest doctor trends. Everyone looked up, except Arthur who was intrigued by a magazine about diseases of the world.
"I am looking for a ... Captain Martin Crieff," the doctor said, looking through his papers. Martin stood up and gave a nervous smile. The doctor replied with a dashing white photogenic one, but replied his request. "Captain Martin Crieff? Is he here?"
"Ehm..."began Martin, "I-I-I am captain Martin Crieff." Carolyn stood next to Martin and gave a knowing look at the confused doctor. Arthur also joined the group.
"Aha. Yes, Captain," the doctor began with another smile and a handshake, "I am doctor Adam Blessed. I have news about...mister Richardson."
"News? Good news I hope?"
"Indeed good news." The doctor put a massive hand on Martins shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Mister Richardson has woken up." Martin sighed relieved. Carolyn thanked the heavens and Arthur cheered.
"Well, th-that is good news," said Martin, "Is he allright?"
"As far as the fact goes that he is in the hospital, he is relatively fine," answered the doctor. He made a gesture to follow him, but did not remove his hand from Martins' shoulder. He lead the three members of MJN into a little consulting room. They sat down. The doctor began with a sigh.
"I am sorry to tell this, but mister Richardson was severely intoxicated. Apparently, he drunk too much, even for his own good." There was a slight tone of prejudgement in his voice. The doctor kept looking at Martin when he spoke.
"Intoxicated?" cried Arthur, "You mean... Like in drunk?" The doctor nodded.
"Doctor," began Martin.
"Please, captain," said doctor Blessed with an expression Martin could not place, "call me Adam."
"Ah, thank you Adam... A-Adam, we know it sounds, ehm, incredible but..."
"Captain, the patient tried to tell me the same thing. He said he was sober for several years. However, the level of alcohol in his blood was enough to kill the average human male easily. It is impossible to think that he 'accidentally' got a drink containing alcohol."
"But-but t-t-that is impossible," Arthur stuttered, shaking his head, "Douglas just doesn't drink. He doesn't. Tell him, Skip!"
Martin thought about this revelation. He never knew when Douglas was lying and when he was telling the truth. Whenever he stole the Talisker, did he really sell it? And when he drank from his flask, what was really in there? Martin looked at the doctor, who smiled warmly. Then he looked at Arthur, who looked at Martin with hope in his eyes. Carolyn sighed.
"I am sorry, Arthur," said Martin, "But when the tests show that Douglas..." he did not end his sentence.
"Arthur, go get us some toblerones from the shop," said Carolyn, gesturing her son out of the door. With a hanging head and tears glistening in his eyes, Arthur walked out of the room.
"We have to run some more tests," doctor Blessed continued, "but currently mister Richardson is in relative good health. As long as the next test results are positive, he can return home."
"And what are the consequences of this... accident?" asked Carolyn with a knowing sign.
"For our area of expertise, nothing," replied doctor Blessed, "I don't know about insurances, work and relationships." With the last word, the doctor focused on Martin. Martin shook his head, still thinking.
"Did he talk about what happened?" asked Carolyn. The doctor shook his head. He stood up, Martin and Carolyn followed.
"He did not, but you can ask him yourself. Since he is awake, you can visit him now."
Relationships and toblerones
Martin wanted to follow Carolyn, who quickly had walked out of the door of the consulting room, but he got blocked by the doctor. Carolyn shot a curious glance at them, but heard her name.
"Miss Knapp-Shappey? Is there a miss Knapp-Shappey around?" asked another doctor to the waiting room.
"Ah, that must be information about Herc. I have to see him first. Sorry Martin, I will see you later." Carolyn walked up to the other doctor, who was startled by her sudden appearance behind his back. Doctor Blessed still stood between Martin and the door. He looked at Martin with a smile, while he ran a hand through his hair. Martin gave a quick smile back, not knowing what to do with this situation.
"Ehm..."he began, pointing at the door and holding his hat, "Shall we go, then?"
"Martin," began doctor Blessed, "I cán call you Martin, right?" The voice of the doctor seemed to be a bit sweeter and darker, when he said Martins' name.
"Oh, y-yes, ofcourse. W-why not?" Martin was not used to things going so quickly. He started to blush slightly from this strange situation.
"Martin, before we go see mister Richardson, I want to ask you some more questions. I had to wait, because I don't know how the others... would have reacted to these questions. And you seem to..." He did not end the sentence but let it hang in the air.
"Of-ofcourse," replied Martin, a little nervous. 'What on Earth would these questions be?' Martin sat down again and fumbled with his hat. The doctor took the seat next to him. A little close, perhaps. It made Martin nervous.
Arthur was lost. He had looked for toblerones everywhere, but never could he find the triangular shaped chocolate bar. But he kept looking, since it kept his mind from that awful doctor with his awful things he said about Douglas. Douglas was brilliant! That doctor did not know Douglas at all. Arthur had tried the ground floor, the first floor, where he found a nice little restaurant and some other floors of the hospital. Nowhere was a shop to be found. But even though he was lost, Arthur had a nice time. He thought hospitals were brilliant! They made people better, you could talk to anyone and you could learn so much from them. Like that lovely old lady in the wheelchair. Okay, she screamed at him and after a while threw a vase at him, but still. What a lovely lady non the less. Arthur found a sign, stating that he was on the fifth floor. And still he was looking for... what was he looking for again? Actually, he had forgotten what he was looking for ages ago. Walking in and out every door he found, occasionally talking to people in their beds and occasionally dodging things they threw at him, made him forget the main purpose of why he was there. He wanted to start a nice conversation with a grumpy old nurse in the hallway, but suddenly he heared a familiar voice out of the nearest room.
"...thus resulting in GERTI being quite the rabbit of negative euphoria." Arthur dashed into the room, finding a rather surprised Douglas sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked different, in that standard paper hospital gear instead of his pilot uniform.
"Douglas!"cried Arthur loudly. He ran to the first officer and hugged him tightly. A little tear escaped from its prison and rolled down his cheek.
"Arthur!" was the surprised reply. Douglas tried to push Arthur away, but the steward was hugging him too strongly.
"Arthur, could you please let me go now? It's getting rather uneasy."
"Sorry Douglas."
"I-I-I beg your pardon?" asked Martin, blushing more severly then ever before.
"I just wanted to be sure," explained doctor Blessed.
"Wel-wel...wel. I do nót, I repeat, nót have a relationship with him," said Martin. He tried to state this as firmly as he could, "He is... We are not... He is just my first officer. We are airline pilots. W-we don't... We are not in a relationship!"
"Aha,"was the reply. The doctor moved a bit closer to Martin and his voice got a bit lower, "But, you are close?"
"We are both from a small airline firm, so we are stuck with... We fly around the world together, but that's all!"
"So... you are not in a relationship then?"
"No! No!" Martin tried to regain himself, "...no."
"Ah," the doctor thought about his next sentence but quickly made up his mind and hit Martin with his most charming and warm smile he could produce.
"Well, Martin, I was just saying... That if I was a woman, I probably would fancy you and...even now I'm a man as well."
"What? You were a woman?"
Oh no!
Douglas eyed to the over-thrilled steward at the other end of the bed."So... Martin and Carolyn are also here?"
"Yeah! Martin and I brought you here, but mum is here because Hercules got attacked by a sheep!" Arthur seemed really proud to have helped bringing Douglas to the hospital. Douglas quickly hid his smile.
"Did he? I never imagined Herc being such a sheep person."
"Me neither, but mum said he broke his leg while a sheep was attacking him. He has open wounds and everything!" Arthur was quite interested by the injuries. He tried to mime the type of injuries, but failed miserably. "Mum had to drag him into the car and carry him into the hospital."
"I always thought your mother had some unusual strength."
"Douglas," began Arthur, "The doctor said some awful things about you."
"Did he?"
"Yes, he said you were in-intoxu... that you were drunk." Arthur looked at Douglas with hope in his eyes. "You weren't drunk, right? Douglas?" The first officer sighed.
"I don't know what happened Arthur. You know I have been sober for 9 years."
"So, how can the doctor say that?" Arthur always was the hopeful cheery person, but he now looked at Douglas like he betrayed him. Douglas did not know how it could happen himself. He was baffled by the tests. He tried to argue with the doctor about the results. He still had some knowledge about medicine from his old college years. However, the doctor did not want to listen. And now even Arthur doubted him. Douglas sighed and did what he always did, when things got nasty.
"That reminds me, Arthur," he quickly changed the subject, "Your mother and Herc... Are they a couple now?" Arthur shrugged.
"I don't know. Mum doesn't like me asking. But it is nice, I think," his face brightened a little again, "Wouldn't it be great if it were?"
"What your mother and Hercules a couple?"
"Yeah! He could tell us his brilliant stories and maybe he can help us with GERTI if one of us gets sick."
"Really, Arthur? You want Herc as your stepfather?"
"What?" Arthur was confused, "No, I meant that mum...Wait," he began to think, "You mean mum and Herc...Oh,no. Noooooo!" Arthur chuckled and gave Douglas a friendly pat on the back, "No, Douglas. You're wrong there. Mum and Hercules are just friends."
"Aha. And you think it is normal for friends to stay at their house for the night?"
"Well, I don't know if... Maybe she did not pick up the phone, because she was sleeping and... I know I said she wasn't home but... No!"
"If she wasn't home and she didn't pick up the phone, what did you think she was doing?"
"She-she..." Arthur tried his best not to think about things his mother would do with the other airline captain. "It was probably late and she stayed at a hotel."
"A hotel, Arthur? While she always tries to save money?" Arthur became more and more helpless. Douglas gave Arthur a firm, but friendly pat on the head.
"If you are convinced they're just friends, they probably are."
"Stop your whining Hercules," Carolyn said sharply to the, normally charming, airline captain. The now severely wounded airline captain tried his best not to cry out of pain. Carolyn continued: "Apart from that stupidly broken leg of yours, you're completely fine."
"I am not, Carolyn!"
"Oh, good heavens. Are you a man, or a little girl?" Hercules decided not to answer that question. He was rather glad that that part was still fine. His leg was now in a cast and a nurse from the dinosaur era was treating his other wounds. Right now, she was disinfecting the wounds on his arm. Carolyn crossed her arms for her chest and sighed.
"This event is rather an unfortunate one."
"Oh, is it really?" replied Hercules sarcastic.
"I don't mean you, you berk!" said Carolyn, "I mean that Arthur has seen us."
"Arthur?"
"Yes. There was a little...accident with Douglas so Arthur and Martin had brought him here. And now he has seen us."
"I wasn't aware that our relationship was a secret one," the syrup voiced captain answered. He wanted to know more about Douglas, but with one look at Carolyn he kept himself quiet. The nurse pressed the disinfective quite firmly to the open wound and Hercules winced for a nano-second. Carolyn grimaced, but quickly put on her normal I-am-not-interested-at-all face.
"To be fair, it was not really a secret, but the thing with Arthur is...He can think differently than other people do."
"I am aware of that." Hercules had been talking to Arthur a couple of times now and although the conversations were really amusing, he could not always grasp the way Carolyn's son was looking at the world.
"And if he will be starting to think about you and me... O, heaven forbid in what kind of fresh hell we'll be throwing ourselves in." Finally the nurse had treated all the wounds and Hercules pushed the monument gently aside.
"You know,"said he, trying to put his smile back on his face, "This all wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for your ridiculous dog."
Doctor Adam Blessed blinked a couple of times. He was confused. "What?" His smile faded for a couple of seconds, but reappeared again. "Oh, no no. Martin, I never was a woman. When I said that I..."
"Oh okay," interrupted Martin, "Otherwise it would be..." Martin began to ponder about the sentence again: 'If I was a woman... I would fancy you...and even as a man...I do?'
However, his mouth uttered the rest of the line he tried to say: "be a little odd to tell me now." Martin looked at the doctor. Doctor Blessed, Martin could call him Adam, looked back with something that seemed like hope in his eyes. Martin made an O with his mouth. Everything fell into place now. Those weird questions and the way he looked at him.
"Oh, God no!" Martin cried. He jumped off his seat, flushed with confused embarrassment. His hat fell of his head, but he did not notice. Doctor Blessed also stood up.
"Martin?"
Martin walked backwards towards the door, uttering every apology he could think of. He was so confused and embarrassed, he did not even tell that grey eyed photo-model of a doctor he was not gay. When he reached the door, he quickly ran through the hall, towards the elevators. Doctor Blessed called after him, but he did not hear what he said and he decided not to look back. When he reached the elevator, he stepped in and pushed a random button.
The cool room
The elevator made a soft ringing noise and a warm female voice muttered something, Martin could not make out what it was. He stepped out of the elevator. He needed to think. About what happened to day...to hím.
'How could he... Why did he think...I never...Did I?' Martin could hardly finish his own thoughts. He walked into the first room he saw. It was empty, quite cool and had a large wall, entirely full of what appeared to be drawers. Martin sat down on a chair, next to a metal table and began to ponder.
'How could I possibly think, I could handle this situation?'he thought, 'Okay, Douglas is not dead, but... All of this... It's just my luck!' There was a soft noise, probably from the other room behind that wall with the drawers. It sounded, like someone was sighing quite loudly. Martin listened carefully for someone heading his way, but there were no other sounds. He moved in his chair and began to think about his pathetic life again. The fact that it was much cooler here than in the waiting room was actually really nice. It helped him to think more clearly. And until someone came into this room and shooed him away, he could just stay here. Martin fumbled with his epaulets and remembered why he came to the hospital in the first place. This awful hospital, with these awful doctors.
'Well...to be fair, doctor Blessed is not awful. He is actually a really nice man. And really handsome too... No, no-no-no! What on Earth am I thinking?' Martin buried his head in his hands and moaned in despair. It was not that he had something against... people who were attracted to the same sex. But he was pretty sure he was not one of them. Martin sighed and put a hand through his hair, so it was a messy bunch on his head. He never thought that the only person who would fall for him was... a man.
Again there was a noise like someone was sighing. It was soft, but nearby. Martin looked around. Still no-one.
'I wonder what are in those drawers. It is really quiet in here.' He stood up from his chair and walked towards the door.
'There should be sómeone around here, shouldn't it?' He popped his head out and looked into the hallway.
"Hello?" His voice echoed slightly against the white walls. He retreated back into the room and walked to the wall with the drawers. What was in there? Large batches of medicine perhaps? Gosh, these drawers were big enough to fit a man. He had his hand on the handle of one of the drawers, but hesitated. He probably should not be here in the first place. And what would be in the drawers, was probably not for people to see. He let go of the handle and walked back to his seat. His mind got fixed on the situation he was in.
'Why on Earth, would someone be interested in me?' he thought. The question surprised him. He often had asked himself why someone would nót be interested in him. He even, at one time, made a list of reasons why people would not be interested in him. It became rather a long list. A really long list. It took Arthur a day to get Martin back to his usual self again. Douglas once noticed that his usual self was a few inches above chronic depression. But nów he was thinking about things that were interesting about him.
'Well... I ám an airline pilot. I am a captain even. That is interesting, right? And I know alot about aviation... and planes. I know tonnes about planes. And games. I play games... well, mostly flight simulator games, but still, games.' A little smile appeared on his lips, while he was thinking about all the things that could be interesting about him.
'All those things are interesting, right? Yes! I am interesting. Quite alot, if I may say so myself.'
"Captain Martin Crieff," he said softly to himself, "You are quite an interesting man indeed." He slammed with his hand on the metal table, which created a chilling echoing sound. For the third time, he heard the sighing sound. It came from the bottom left drawer, he was sure of it. In an instant he stood up and walked to the drawer. He put his hand on the handle and with renewed confidence, he pulled. He gave a loud scream. As fast as he could, he hurried to the elevator. There, he pushed the button with some force, like he wanted to part it from the wall it was in. The elevator arrived quickly and he stepped in. He pushed a random button, muttering that he had to stay calm. The doors of the elevator swiftly separated him from the room he just left, leaving the corpse in the drawer alone again.
Big black sheep
While the dinosaur nurse shuffled her way to the door, Carolyn sat down next to Hercules and made a disapproving noise.
"My dog is nót ridiculous, Herc," she told her secret-but-not-so-secret lover.
"Yes it is. Your dog is nothing more than ridiculous."
"First of all, my dog is a she and shé is a noble hound."
"I think I have to disagree with you, Carolyn," Hercules said with a painful smile, "Any dog that carries the name of 'Snoopadoop' cannot possible be noble. Besides, it is not only because she is a... cockerpoodle with a name you are actually embarrassed to say out loud, but she is the whole reason why I'm lying here with a broken leg."
"Don't be such a berk, Herc," Carolyn immediately replied, "It was not my dog that attacked you. It was a black sheep, remember?" Hercules grimaced by the memory of that monster of a black beast.
"I remember to have told you many times before, that sheep are awful creatures."
"Says the only airline pilot, who cannot see a little lam and scream," Carolyn replied. She crossed her arms for her chest. "My goodness. The only sheep you nééd to be afraid of..."
"Incidentally walked loose on the road, where we were walking," Hercules complemented her sentence, "It attacked me, all because of your so called 'noble hound'."
"You cannot blame my dog for your injuries!"
"It was because of your dog, we were there in the first place!"
"Herc," began Carolyn with her do-not-dare-to-imply-that face, "If you are trying to suggest that my dog arranged for those sheep to be there, made them to cross the road just as we were walking there... let me say you are pushing the limits."
"No, ofcourse not. But she díd attack the herd."
"She did nothing of the sorts! Maybe, she nibbled playfully at the leg of one of those sheep..."
"And in that way created chaos among the entire herd. At which the big black ram decided to attack me."
"And why do you think the ram decided to attack you?"
"Because your ridiculous dog fled from the crime scene and hid behind my legs." Carolyn was silent for a moment, but she looked grumpy. She turned to the airline captain again.
"I don't know what that sheep did to your head, but I did not remember anything happen like that.
"Right, so the monstrous beast gave me a concussion, crushed my leg and bit pieces of flesh off because... I was there?" Carolyn did not reply directly. Hercules was obviously still cross with her little doggie. She only wanted to play. Also Hercules made it quite clear that he did not approve of the way she handled the situation. But she just couldn't move, lying on the ground laughing at that ridiculous display of a black sheep chasing the poor airline captain. The ram was a very stubborn and ferocious one, she had to admit. By the time the 3 shepherds responsible for the herd, were able to pull the ram away from him, the former charming captain was transformed into a greatly hurt and messy captain.
Hercules said something Carolyn did not hear. She was thinking about poor little Snoopadoop. She was luckily not hurt or anything, but she was quite scared and because she had to drop Hercules off at the hospital, she had to leave her with her neighbour. Not that there was anything wrong with her neighbour, but he did never have to take care of Snoopadoop in such a situation. And to make all matters worse, Arthur was at the hospital as well. She could not imagine the amount of bad luck hitting her at once this day. With a first officer who was severely intoxicated after being sober for many years, Hercules who blamed poor Snoopadoop for his own failure and Arthur finding out about his mother having a relationship with an airline captain from another airline.
'Poor Arthur. What would go on his mind? Probably he is still looking for toblerones. Hopefully.'
"I said, where is she now?" repeated Hercules, while he poked her gently on her shoulder.
"Who?"
"Your ridiculous dog ofcourse."
"Oh, calling her ridiculous but still care about her, don't you? She is with mister Laurie." Hercules looked confused.
"Who is mister Laurie?"
"My neighbour, ofcourse. He always watches after her, when Arthur and I are away. He is a very nice gentleman. Tall, educated and not at all afraid of sheep." Hercules sighed. He knew she would use any way possible to get that fact in there. Carolyn stood up.
"I have to go."
"O? That is quite sudden. And where are you running off to?"
"I am not running off to anyone."
"I asked where, not to who," Hercules got a bit irritated, "But by all means. Why stay at the side of the person who protected your noble hound and got molested by a monster sheep in the process?"
"Don't be a berk, Herc," said Carolyn firmly, "I have to see Douglas, remember? I need to see if he is fit enough to fly to Cairo tomorrow."
"What was the news?"asked Hercules, suddenly extremely interested.
"He got severely intoxicated."
"Intoxicated?" a little smile appeared on his lips, "Poor old Douglas. The glass finally got him down." Carolyn quickly stood up.
"Indeed. Right, I should go. Martin and Arthur are waiting for me." Probably that was not true at all. Martin would probably still be stuck in that little room, being chatted up by that handsome doctor and Arthur was hopefully still busy looking for toblerones.
"So, you're leaving me here then?" asked Hercules, "All alone, in this hospital?"
"Ofcourse not," replied Carolyn sweetly, "I called your daughter. She is on her way now. She will take care of you." And with those words, she left the room and waited for the elevator to come.
All together
The elevator arrived quickly. The metal doors revealed a flushed and messed up MJN Air captain. Martin was breathing heavily and his hair looked like haystack on fire. The contiues fussing with his hair made a lot of his hair stand up."Martin, what happened to you?" asked Carolyn. Martin took a deep breath to answer her, but Carolyn stopped him again.
"Wait!.. I don't care." She stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor. It was not entirely true, she did not care. She always thought the stuttering fool of an airline captain had enough problems to be attrackted to women. However, she never cared to ask him about personal life, outside the flying part. And if he had to come out of the non-existing closet, that doctor was quite good looking.
"Martin," she started, but he saw her expression and shook his head.
"I rather don't want to talk about it," was all he said, making Carolyn even more curious. But she only shrugged. The elevator stopped and they both stepped out of the metal box.
"By the way, Martin, have you seen Arthur?" asked Carolyn.
"No, I was quite busy... He was looking for toblerones, right?"
"And indeed I think he still is looking for them. I'll call him when we have visited Douglas." Martin nodded and ran another hand through his hair, which created the effect of putting a log on the fire while there was a storm outside. Carolyn wondered if she ever could leave the MJN crew alone for a couple of minutes, without them creating potential worldwide disaster.
Her thoughts were rudely disturbed by a loud roar coming from one of the rooms. The big roar was followed by the shouting of, what Martin and Carolyn recognized as the first officer Douglas Richardson. Carolyn and Martin looked at each other for a moment, before they ran off to the room the shouting was coming from. Douglas was raging like a madman. Doctor Blessed needed all of his strenght to hold him back. Arthur had his back against the opposite wall, acting out a perfect rabbit of negative euphoria. Douglas managed to escape the doctors' grip and jump towards Arthur, but doctor Blessed could prevent Douglas from reaching the poor steward.
"Maggie!" shouted the doctor, "I need assistence! Come here quickly!" There was an answer from the hallway, but no-one appeared yet. Douglas roared again as some kind of wild animal, imprisoned by the photogenic doctor.
"What is going on here?" asked Carolyn with a raised voice. Douglas looked at the new visitors with a look of pure murder in his eyes, but the look on his employers' face seemed to calm him down a bit. At least he stopped shouting and did not try to reach Arthur.
"Mum!"cried Arthur, "Hi!" It was not really clear whether he was happy or more terrified. Doctor Blessed held on to Douglas for a bit longer, so it looked like he was hugging a shaven raging bear, but eventually let go.
"Carolyn," said Douglas through gritted teeth.
"Douglas, so glad you are awake again," replied Carolyn calmly, "What is going on?"
"Do you have any idea, how big of a crazy clot you have raised?"
"I'm not a clot!" said Arthur with his last strenght, "And I'm not crazy. Mum has got me tested!"
"Carolyn wanted to give a reply, but Martin stepped between them.
"A-anyway, let us remain calm, shall we?" he tried, "Let us sort this out with the minimum amout of fuss. It does not help, if we are going to slaughter each other."
"There is not need for that. If you want someone to be dead, just drop them of at this hospital," mumbled Douglas. Doctor Blessed did not react. He was looking at Martin, who stood like a brave soldier that decided to jump on the timebomb, if necessary.
"Stop it, Douglas," said Martin, "You are angry at Arthur, we get it. But would you please tell us, why you are angry?"
"I am angry at Arthur, because hé," Douglas pointed to Arthur, "is the main reason why I am here. He is the reason why I get blamed for drinking and he is the reason why I am in this bloody hospital."
"What happened then?"
"Well, if you want to know the story, I'll tell you the story."
The Hose and Hydrant
It was quite boring in the secret-but-not-secret bar at Fitton Airfield. It was supposed to be Skittles night, but there were not enough participants to let it last for very long. Arthur was at the bar as well. He should not be here, but he was so depressed after that flight for mister Burling, Douglas just could not let him be. It was the last night of the Hose and Hydrant anyway. Tomorrow they would move it somewhere else, so it was Alright to bring Arthur along. George already had lifted Arthurs spirit by doing the impressions of his favourite fruit, but still. Douglas would have Arthur get another drink, before sending him home. Arthur was now talking to Dirk, the groundsman, who was sipping his usual and completely ignored the enthousiastic steward. Douglas was talking to a stewardess, who was unfortunate enough to spent the night at Fitton. He was not really interested in her. With her two pound make-up on, she still looked like Carolyns' little sister. Somehow, she reminded him of his first ex-wife. He suddenly caught himself wondering how she was doing, but he quickly put those thoughts aside.
"So, why are you bound to this little piece of nowhereland?" he asked her. She wanted to answer, but Arthur had joined the conversation.
"You know, you look like one of the people from Hells Angels!" He smiled.
"He certainly means Charlies Angels," corrected Douglas quickly, but it was too late. She excused herself and left the bar with another chap from the groundstaff.It was about two o'clock.
"Come on, Arthur,"said Douglas, trying to get the steward out of the pub, "You probably should go home. Carolyn must be worried about you."
"Oh, no she isn't," replied Arthur, brushing Douglas'hand away, "She is not at home, right now."
"Oh."
"Yeah, and she isn't coming back till tomorrow. She told me herself."
"Really? But where is she then?" Arthur shrugged.
"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me. She is away a lot lately."
"And you are... okay, with this?"
"Yes ofcourse," answered Arthur, "Anyway, she is much happier nowadays. I don't know why...but it is nice." Douglas decided not to go on about it. What Carolyn did in her spare time, was her choice. However, it was curious she would not tell her own son about it. Arthur quickly changed the subject and began to tell about a magic trick he saw on television. Douglas listened half to the story with a tiger or something, till George joined the group.
"Come on Douglas," he said, "What about a nice drinking game?" he raised his glass.
"Better not now George," said Douglas, pointing at Arthur, "Maybe later."
A mobile phone went off. Everyone looked for theirs, while Douglas put a damaged old Nokia out of one of his pockets. It was Martins' old phone. The tune went on for a couple of seconds, till it went to voicemail mode. Douglas looked at the excuse for a phone. It was real fun to see Martin desperately looking for it. Douglas would have given it back, but by the time he was bored with it, Martin actually had bought another phone.
'I wonder who was calling him,' thought Douglas. He found the number to listen to the voicemail and was surprised by the lovely female voice that left a message.
"Hey Martin, it's Rose...again. I was just wondering where you are at the moment. Probably in your plane again...as always. Just call me back as soon as possible, alright? Bye." The message ended there.
'Wow. A woman,'thought Douglas,'I wonder where he found her.'
"Who was it Douglas?" asked Arthur, "Was it mum with another job?" He took another look at the phone and gasped. "Hé, isn't that Martins' phone? Where did you get it?"
"Indeed it is, Arthur," replied Douglas, thinking quickly,"I just found it. You know what? I'll text him right away, so I can give it back."
"Oh, how lovely. Martin will be so surprised. A shame though, now he had to buy another phone in Paris."
"Yes." Douglas grabbed his own phone and texted Martin.
'Where are you?'
George got back. "Oh, come on Douglas. It's getting boring now. Why not play a game?"
The other guests of the Hose and Hydrant agreed loudly.
"Okay. And what kind of game are you thinking of then?"
"I know," said David suddenly, "Why not play Stolich?" Everyone began to cheer.
"Stolich, yeah!"
"Let's do Stolich!"
"Do the game! Stolich, Stolich!"
"What do you think, Douglas?" asked George, "Ready to get the game out?" Douglas thought for a moment.
"Oh, what the hell. Why not?" replied Douglas with a smile, "If you put everything together. I'll get the drinks." The crowd cheered again and everyone was suddenly busy with preparations. Douglas, in the meantime, gestured to Arthur to follow him.
"What is this game, Douglas?" began Arthur, but Douglas put a finger on his lips.
"I'll explain it to you, but you have to listen carefully." Douglas looked around, whether someone was listening to them and continued, "There are 2 bottles of Stolichnaya. We are going to use these bottles for the game. Now, I want you to do something for me. You take this bottle and the Talisker bottle, okay, and you empty the Talisker bottle. Then you fill the Talisker bottle with the content of the other bottle and fill the other bottle with water. Do you get this?"
"Empty the Talisker bottle and fill it with the other bottle. Then fill the other bottle with water."
"Yes," Douglas was surprised, but moved on, "Because there is another bottle, that looks exactly the same, you need to mark one of the bottles. Then you bring both bottles to me."
"And the Talisker?"
"You put the Talisker back to its rightful place... Now, do you get that?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now go."
"But Douglas," began Arthur, but Douglas pushed him away with the bottles in his arms. Douglas began to help others with clearing the pub, until there was a wide gap surrounding a table with 2 chairs.
After a short while, Arthur returned. He gave Douglas the 2 bottles. One of the Stolichnaya bottles had a pink bow around its neck. Douglas smiled.
" Alright. Is everything settled?" he asked loudly to the others.
"We're all set," answered George, "Carl here, has taken up the task to defeat you."
"Oh did he?" Douglas lowered his voice, "Let us see about that then." Carl smiled back, a bit too relaxed.
"Ready to swallow your defeat, Douglas?" he teased, as the first officer put the bottles on the table. Douglas made sure the bottle with the bow was on his side.
"Ehm, Douglas?" began Arthur, but Carl teased Douglas some more.
"I bet you can't even drink 3 glasses of this, without fainting to the floor."
"O really? Do you want to make a personal bet then?" asked Douglas, rubbing his hands.
"Why not? Otherwise it's not use to play the game, is it?"
"Well, why not make it interesting then? The first one to finish the bottle wins. The winner gets 3 months worth of salary from the loser." Carl squinted, to see through any lies.
"I didn't know you could lose so much money Douglas."
"Are you on?" Douglas reached out his hand. Carl thought for a second.
"Alright. You're on," Carl replied, shaking Douglas' hand.
"Ehm, Douglas. I really need to talk to you," tried Arthur again, but nobody listened.
"Okay, ready?" asked David, "In 3, 2, 1... Go!" The crowd began to cheer for the fellow they had their money on. Carl already chucked in the first glass. Douglas just smiled, screwed the cap of the bottle and said: "Cheers."
Douglas put the bottle to his lips. In one long drink, he emptied the bottle of Stolichnaya.
It’s kicking in
It was eerie quiet in the Hose and Hydrant for a while. The crowd looked at the first officer with a mixture of awe and disbelieve. Douglas put the empty bottle back on the table. His throat burned a bit, but it was possible there was still a bit residu left in the bottle. Or Arthur just did not get everything out that quickly. But that did not matter. It was mainly water after all.'"Well, what about that?" he asked, smiling devilishly at Carl. The bystanders bursted out in loud cheering. Carl looked surprised and confused. He sniffed at his own bottle.
"Don't just sit there, Carl. Give us a round," said Douglas, standing up, "Everyone, drinks by Carl!" Everyone cheered again and went to the bar to get another drink. Arthur looked at Douglas with an expression that could not be placed. Douglas rubbed his temples. He felt dizzy. His head felt a bit fuzzy, but drinking a litre of water in one go is not good for you either. But it was all for a good cause. Filling Douglas his pockets with money. He shook his head and walked to the bar, happily accepting all the congratulations of the other guests. The fun did not last long though, because the fire alarm went off.
"Another job at the strip, guys. Move out," said Phillip. Everyone grumbled, but they left the station. Quickly the Hose and Hydrant was empty, save for Douglas, Arthur, Carl and Dirk.
"Well, wasn't that fun?" said Douglas. His eye felt funny. Probably he was really tired. He should go home soon. But first get that nonsense captain to react. Douglas texted Martin another message: 'Where are you?'
"Okay, congratulations Douglas," said Carl, still a bit confused but smiling, "I really thought I had you this time."
"You should know better than that, Carl. I am a master at winning."
"It certainly was really brave. You really earned the money."
"Thank you, Carl. You're a real sport." Douglas gave Carl a pat on the back. At least, he was aiming for the back. He missed the Carls' back completely and hit Carl on the ear instead.
"Hé, what are you doing?"
"My apologies Carl," said Douglas, slightly confused, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm probably a bit tired."
"And you show that by hitting me on the ear?"
"My eyes are not what they used to be. Even though they are good enough for flying, sometimes when I'm tired, I mistake someones' ear for a fly."
"Douglas, are you allright?" asked Arthur. Douglas now remembered that Arthur expressed worry. Douglas smiled brightly and grabbed his bottle of Talisker.
"Ofcourse Arthur. Come on, lets celebrate my victory with a sip of my hard earned Talisker." Before Arthur could stop him, Douglas took a large gulp from the Talisker bottle.
"Fine as always," he said, while he poured himself a glass. Arthurs' expression had changed from worrying to afraid.
"Douglas, I think you should stop drinking now."
"Nonsense, I can handle it. After all, it's almost like water to me."
"I'm not really sure..."
"Stop whining Arthur," Douglas interrupted, "I'm not Martin you know... I am mé!" He threw his hands in the air, spilling half of his glass on the floor.
"I think I should go now," said Carl, quickly grabbing his coat, "Good luck, Arthur."
"But..."
"See you around." Carl quickly dissapeared, leaving Arthur with a weird acting Douglas and Dirk.
Dirk was still sipping his own drink, while Douglas sat on a chair singing loudly and drinking from the Talisker bottle. After a moment of silence, because Douglas tried to remember the next verse of the song, Arthur began to clap.
"That was magnificent, Douglas. Now let's do Those magnificent men in their flying machines and then go home."
"No," said Douglas, "No, no, no-no... There is something... I need to do." He looked at his phone, with one eye because the other still felt funny.
"Maybe we can do that at home," tried Arthur, "It's almost 4, so..." Arthur tried to grab the phone, but Douglas was still quicker. And stronger.
"Come on, Douglas. We have to go home."
"No... I need to do zomething first." Douglas tried to get up from his chair, but sat down again. His head was really fuzzy. He tried again. He could just grab the table, before he would fall. He muttered a curse under his breath.
"Douglas?" Arthur tried to help Douglas, but Douglas pushed him away.
"I'm fine, fine-fine. Let's hav'som fun!" Douglas pushed himself back up again. He staggered for a little while, walked two full steps and tripped over his own feet. He fell down... and did not stand up.
"Douglas?" asked Arthur. Douglas did not react. "Douglas?" Athur tried again. He gently poked the first officer on the cheek. Douglas did not move.
"Oh no." Arthur panicked. Douglas was not moving. Something went wrong. What could he do? Arthur was just a steward. He was used to do as was told. Not to think himself. If he thought himself, others usually laughed at him. What was wrong with Douglas?
"Aha," sounded behind Arthur. Arthur started. Dirk came closer, putting his glass down. "He is out, is he?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, after so much booze, you can't live right, right?" Dirk smiled, but it did not have the wanted effect.
"You mean... What?" Arthur started to panick even more.
'O my God, he is dead he is dead he is dead he is dead. And it's all my fault." Dirk sighed.
"You better getting him home, I guess."
"Home?"
"Yeah, you can't let him leave here, can you?"
'Oh my God, he is dead and if I leave him here they think I killed him. I didn't... did I? I helped him. He drank water. He definitely drank water. But he also drank from the Talisker bottle. What did I do with the Talisker bottle again? Oh No! I killed him!'
"I'm off as well. Shall I help you putting him into your car?" asked Dirk, still trying to be friendly.
"Yes, please," answered Arthur with a soft voice. Even when in panic, he was still polite. Just as his mother taught him that. Dirk grabbed the first officer from the floor and with some effort they got Douglas into Arthurs'car. Dirk found a nice pair of shades in the glove box and put them on Douglas.
"So, all set. I'm leaving now... Good luck kid," and without another word Dirk left the two MJN members alone.
'Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God. I'm in a car with a dead person. And that dead person is Douglas! No-no-no! He can't be dead. He just can't".'
Arthur shook Douglas, which only resulted in Douglas his head going up and down. He still had a smile on his face.
'What do I do what do I do what do I do? Mum! I need to call mum!' Arthur tried to call his mother, but she did not answer.
"No-no-no-no no!"
Suddenly he remembered what she had told him: "If I can't be reached, you can always try those idiots of a pilots. I'm sure Douglas or Martin can help you with your problems." So Arthur called Martin. A phone rang. It was Martin's old phone.
Luckily Arthur remembered the new phone number. He wanted to call him... but suddenly he hesitated.
'Martin is probably asleep. He looked really tired yesterday. And I don't know where he is. Maybe I better text him.'
And so he waited. In the car, with a possibly dead first officer on the front seat, waiting for an answer.
Normal
Douglas pointed at Arthur, while he was explaining the story."He gave me alcohol, while I thought it was water!"
"No I didn't. I did not know it was alcohol!" cried Arthur, "I did exactly, like you told me to."
"Apparently not, or I wouldn't be here, you clot!"
"I'm not a clot."
"Calm down everyone," interrupted the doctor graciously, "Don't let things get out of hand."
"It already did," replied Carolyn, "What else can you call this disaster of an first officer, who almost died of alcohol intoxication while he was sober for 9 years?"
"A joke, that got out of hand."
"It certainly did," replied Martin quickly, before Carolyn could make a stingy reply, "But that does not mean we have to kill each other."
"He almost did! That is the whole point!" shouted Douglas.
"But not on purpose," tried Martin to get the conversation in calmer water, "I mean... It's Arthur."
"Hé!" shouted Arthur, who got the nerve to hide behind his mother. Douglas did not reply. He was still angry about what happened and it was all Arthurs' fault.
"And by the way, even you had to notice it wasn't water. Vodka can be odourless and colourless, but it definitely does not taste like water," continued Martin.
"He's right, Douglas," supported Carolyn. Doctor Blessed nodded vigorously.
"Yes, but..."
"You're not going to tell us, that you can't taste the difference between water and vodka anymore, are you?" asked Martin, feeling better and better at this. There were people, who thought he was saying the right thing. Nobody was shouting at him. He might be good at this.
"It was not... I..." Douglas, for the first time in a long, long time, did not know what to say.
"Douglas!" cried a woman in the door opening suddenly. Everybody turned around, to see the soggy old nurse from the dinosaur era.
"Maggie!" replied Douglas. His eyes grew large from disbelieve. "What on Earth, are you doing here?"
"I work here, you big insensitive clot!" Maggie replied angry. She looked more and more like a dinosaur. She stamped into the room, until she reached doctor Blessed.
"Is this the reason I had to hurry here?" she asked sharply.
"Ehm..." the doctor was a bit lost for words, "He tried to attack someone."
"I don't see anyone wounded."
"Because I prevented him to hurt someone."
"So you actually didn't need me then. Or did you call me on purpose to meet up with my ex-husband?"
"Ex-husband?" Carolyn said out loud. Arthur looked at the nurse with a puzzled expression. If this was Douglas his first ex-wife, she probably looked different then. Nobody could imagine Douglas with such a...a...ehm. There was not really a word for her. Maggie snorted and looked at Douglas.
"What are you doing here?"
"I... I got..." Douglas was searching for words. Maggie did not wait for his answer, but grabbed the clipboard and looked through the sheets.
"Intoxicated...hmmm. Not really a surprise there."
"I've been sober for 9 years!"
"Have you?" She did not look convinced "And still, you have more alcohol in your system than most doctors thought was possible... At least, without dying within minutes."
"Nothing of this is your concern," said Douglas quickly and firm. Maggie gave him a look. "... Anymore."
"And I'm glad of that situation." She gave doctor Blessed a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be off then. See you at home, darling," and she shuffled away. Everyone now looked at doctor Blessed.
"You... are married...to her?"
"Yes," was the only answer the doctor could give.
Martin was confused and felt weird. He did not know what to do now. Douglas seemed to have cooled down, at the sight of his first ex-wife, so the chance of him killing Arthur had faded away. Carolyn was the only one, who seemed to be thinking now.
"So, Douglas... Apart from all curiosities, are you able to fly tomorrow?"
"What?" Douglas needed his brain to restart again, "Ah... Y-yes. Doctor?"
"Indeed. The tests returned negative, so he can fly."
"Wonderful. Best get back to Herc then. Do you come with me, Arthur? We need to talk to you."
"Righto!" answered Arthur, already happy he was still alive.
Now there were Martin, Douglas and doctor Blessed left in the room.
"Ehm..." began Martin, "I'll be leaving then. Need to get a cab home, so..."
"Oh, I can bring you, captain," said doctor Blessed quickly, "My shift is almost over."
"No-no, no thank you. That is not necessary," Martin replied firmly, "I'll get a taxi."
"Okay... Then, maybe it's time I give you this back." Doctor Adam Blessed gave Martin his hat. It was a bit dirty from the floor, but for the rest in one piece. Martin got red on the cheeks and stuttered a thank you.
As fast as he could, he walked out of the hospital, firmly holding his hat. He waited for the taxi, which came within 15 minutes, so that was not so bad. Before he stepped in, he looked once more at the fifth floor of the hospital. Doctor Blessed waved behind the window. Martin waved back. The doctor was married, so a friendly wave could not hurt. Could it? With a sigh he stepped in the taxi.
'I sure hope tomorrow will be a bit more normal.'
