Page 46 of Precise Justice

“Shouldn’t we make her vomit or throw up what…”

“No! What is that?” Blake asked referring to the small brown plastic bottle Priscilla had picked up.

“Um, nothing,” Priscilla said and tried to hide it.

“Give it to me, right now!” Blake barked at her.

“Why, it’s nothing,” Priscilla tried to say.

“It’s the pill bottle. Now give it to me,” Blake yelled at her again while he continued to walk Robbie around. Priscilla gave him the bottle and he stuffed it in a pocket while continuing to walk Robbie.

“Get your car. We need to get him to the hospital now! Get going.”

Blake carried Robbie down the stairs over his shoulder. Barefoot and with no coat, Blake carried her out the front door and placed her onto the back seat of Priscilla’s car.

Holding Robbie up and bouncing her to keep her awake, Blake told Priscilla, “Fairview Edina. Are you sober enough to drive?”

“Yes,” Priscilla replied.

“Then get us there, now!” he almost barked at Priscilla.

Blake looked up at the emergency room clock for, at least, the fifteenth time. Three minutes had gone by since the last time. The two of them were sitting with an empty chair between them. It had been a few minutes longer than an hour without a word spoken between them.

Blake leaned forward, still in his pajama bottoms and barefoot with his elbows on his knees. He held his face in his hands, silently praying. When he finished asking God to spare Robbie’s life, he sat up, leaned back and looked at Priscilla.

“If the doctor comes out and tells us Robbie has died, you better start running because I’m going to kill you,” he calmly told Priscilla.

Startled, she said, “You can’t blame me…”

“Yes, I can and I do,” Blake replied.

“But…” Priscilla was truly frightened of the man she had emotionally abused for years.

“You stupid, stupid bitch, you pushed him into this. You made him do this.”

“It was for the best. It was what he needed.”

“It was what you wanted. Do you know what happened today? If you paid attention, you’d know. Robbie hurt another girl in a volleyball game. She’s in a coma and may die because of him. The girls on the other team called him a freak. Where were you? Screwing another man. Did you even get his name?”

Before Priscilla could answer, the emergency room doctor walked up to them. Blake stood to greet him.

“She’s going to be all right. We have her stomach pumped and cleaned out. It was touchy, but she’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Blake said.

The relief Priscilla felt was more for herself than Robbie. She also realized her marriage was over. Blake taking charge and acting like a man ended it. Not for Priscilla, but for Blake himself.

Dear Diary:September 10th

My first day back home after three days in a mental hospital lockup. I tried to kill myself last week. Or did I? I’m no longer sure I really wanted to die. The psychiatrist who talked to me at the nut house was a woman, Dr. Walsh. She’s pretty sure it was both a real attempted suicide and a cry for help. I must admit I’m glad I didn’t die.

While I was in the nut house, I got an idea. It probably won’t happen, but I need to try. I need to call MarcKadella. He’s the only lawyer I know.

During the second day in the nut house, Dr. Frankenstein showed up. Mother Dear called him and told him what happened.

I got some really good news while I was there. The girl I hurt; Amber Jokinen is okay. She was in a coma for a couple of days. She’s home now and doing fine. My volleyball days are done. If I had known that could happen, I would never have agreed to play at all.

Back to school tomorrow. I have mixed feelings about that. I did get phone calls from two of the girls, friends, on the volleyball team. They told me everyone is sorry about what happened and they want me back. I don’t think so.

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