Page 47 of Huge Dynamite
Smiling, she hands me the bag.
“My name is Holly,” I tell her, balancing the groceries in one arm and shaking her hand with the other. “I’m moving in here. I’m a doctor.”
“Oh! A doctor. You must be rich.”
“No,” I tell her, laughing. “Especially not once I sign those papers.”
“Excuse me?” She tilts her head. Of course, she doesn’t understand my lame joke.
“I’m going to be opening a clinic here. I’d like you to bring Jonny by to get checked. I think he has asthma. Do you know what asthma is?”
Nodding, she sighs. “His rattlesnake breath.”
“Yes.”
“But I can’t afford the medications,” she tells me. The corners of her mouth droop and her eyes glass over.
“My clinic will be low-cost or free,” I explain. For the first time, this is all becoming real. Suddenly, I understand that I’m not going to be able to keep this clinic afloat all on my own. I’ll need financial—and physical—support.
Looking into Jonny’s smart brown eyes, I smile. The hell with it. One way or another, even if I’m in debt up to my eyeballs for the rest of my life, I will make this happen.
“Free?” his mother asks, shaking her head skeptically.
“Yes. But it will take a couple of weeks to get up and running. When you bring him in, he’ll need a lung function test and maybe some x-rays. In the meantime, if he gets to a point where he can’t breathe, I want you to take Jonny to the hospital that’s between here and Phoenix. The large one. Do you know it?”
She nods, so I go on.
“Good. Stop by tomorrow, maybe around noon. I’m going to get you a free appointment with my friend in Phoenix.”
As we talk, Jonny runs off a few feet, then slows his pace and leans forward to catch his breath. Damn it. No child should ever be sick.
“Thank you, thank you. I’ve got to go.” Taking the groceries from me, Jonny’s mother walks off after him.
“Wait!” Hurrying up to her, I catch her and give her my business card. “I had one in my pocket.” I smile at her. “Please take it. It has my cell number. If you need anything, please call.”
The woman nods as she rushes off, thanking me again as she goes.
Glancing across the street, I see the Unchained Dog is still there, staring at me. He raises his phone again and snaps another picture.
I don’t give a crap.
Turning, I make my way up the stairs and open the still-unlocked door of my decrepit building. Stalling at the door, I turn. Glaring at the Dog, I flip him the bird.
I can’t help myself, and damn, it feels good. Chuckling, I realize I’m sounding a little like Seth—and I kind of like it.
Nodding, the Dog hops onto his bike, and with an ear-shattering rev of his engine, he peels out, taking off.
Good riddance. No, I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I don’t care. It’s true that the Unchained Dogs in my neighborhood, driving by my building and snapping pictures of me, isn’t good but I refuse to be scared.
It’s clear they’re sending me a message, but so what?
Biting my bottom lip, I take a deep breath. Who cares why they’re trying to intimidate me? I’ve never let anyone scare me off before, and I’m not about to start now. No way. There’s nothing, not even a pack of wild Unchained Dogs, that is going to keep me from helping Jonny and the other children of this neighborhood.
Chapter Twelve
Dynamite
“You tending bar?” I nod to Seneca’s kid brother, Matt, who’s standing behind the bar at Hoppa’s Taphouse.
