"Jetta?"
Stormer pushed open the door of the hospital waiting room, meeting her
bandmate's grey eyes with her own soft blue ones. Behind her, Roxy was
manhandling
an over-inquisitive nurse out of the way, closing the door behind her
as
she did so.
"What's the deal?" She demanded, though there was a little of her usual
bluntness missing from her tone.
"You tell me." Jetta murmured. "She's in theatre. She's bloody lucky,
Stormer. I didn't know what to do, she'd 'ave died, but some guy saw
the accident
an' knew 'ow to keep 'er breathin' an' all while I went for an
ambulance.
'E was on 'is way to work when 'e saw...nice of 'im to stop." She
frowned.
"Don't even know 'is name, but it were damn good of 'im."
"What happened, exactly? And are you all right?" Stormer sat down
beside her. "It can't have been nice for you either."
"The doctor keeps wantin' to admit me 'for tests'." Jetta admitted. "I
told 'im where 'e could damn well go. I'm fine, Stormer. Bit shook up,
but
fine. Scratches an' bruises that'll 'eal."
"So what
did happen?" Roxy put in her bit. "Or did Pizzazz's
wacked out driving finally cost her?"
"I
knew she should never 'ave driven." Jetta bit her lip. "I
told
'er not to."
"Was she drunk?" Stormer looked anxious. Jetta shook her head.
"No, she was sober, but she 'ad drunk an' you know it ain't good to let
'er near the car when she's got alcohol in 'er system. She was probably
over the legal limit, even if she were stone sober. I woulda driven
meself but I ain't much better off." She shrugged. "As for what
'appened, she lost
control of the car an' far as I remember it, it spun over. She opened
the
door...god only knows why, I guess in the 'ope it might stop it
turnin',
and she got flung out. The car kinda...jus'...came down on 'er. If it
weren't
for the uneven ground an' the rubble she'dve been killed outright."
Stormer shivered.
"Horrible." she murmured. "Poor Pizzazz."
"So what do we do now?" Roxy sounded impatient, but it was all too
clear her impatience was masking her own uncertain feelings over
Pizzazz's accident. "Just wait? Eric's still in Canada!"
"Someone ought to call him." Stormer looked thoughtful. "Her father
too.I
guess I'll go do that now, if you guys wanna hang about for news." She
eyed
Jetta keenly. "Jetta, perhaps you
should see a doctor...you
are awful
pale you know."
"I'm fine." Jetta snapped. "I just ain't 'ad any sleep yet an' this
ain't my idea of fun!"
"Mm. Okay." Stormer gave up, but inwardly decided to put a call through
to Justin once Eric and Harvey were notified.
"After all, he has to know the photo shoot is off, and he'll want to
know why." She reasoned, as she made her way to the busy lobby to find
a payphone. "Oh, I wonder what's happening in there! From what Jetta
said it's pretty horrible...what if she doesn't make it? What becomes
of the Misfits then?"
*********
"Well, that's it."
Dr Alan Garcia took a step back from the operating table, casting a
careful glance over the still form before him, then nodding
approvingly. "What's her
pulse like? Still pretty steady?"
"Yes, she's got a good heart rate." The nurse who had been carefully
monitoring the heart beat nodded. "She's stabilised pretty well."
"Good. Let's hope she keeps that way." Alan said with a smile. "All
right, let's get her to Intensive Care and get her properly hooked up
on a ventilator. You okay with her breathing there, Julie?"
"Yep, no problem." The aforementioned Julie agreed from where she was
controlling every intake of breath the patient had taken since the
surgery. "Let's move her, though, let her have some time to recover."
"Okay. I'm going to go tell whoever's here with her, then I'll be down
to oversee things on ICU." Alan responded. "I must admit, I've never
operated on someone of such high standing before. I'm glad that's over."
"Well, I don't think we'll need to ask too many people if her medical
insurance is in order." Another surgeon smiled, now that the stress of
the tricky procedure was over. "Phyllis Gabor...who would've thought
it."
"If all I've heard about her is right, she's got some attitude. Might
be best to keep her on the sedatives." Julie suggested archly.
"Well, for now she's just our patient, and that's all that matters."
Alan reminded her. "Anyhow, she will be sedated for the time being.
Just keep a
close eye on her blood alcohol level for the next 24 hours when giving
the
drugs, ok? I know we took a gamble here and it paid off, but we didn't
have
much choice this time. It was risk the anaesthesia and do the op, or
let
her die. Now we've got her at least stable, I don't want her having a
reaction
to the painkillers or the sedatives we put her on."
"Her blood alcohol isn't as high as her friend seemed to think. It's
within legal limit, just." One of the surrounding nurses reported.
"Well, that's good. There'll be no legal wrangles then." Alan cast a
glance at the sleeping face of the young woman. The press had reported
so many stories about the infamous Phyllis Gabor, leader of the
Misfits, and allegedly one of the most fearsome women in California,
but at that moment she looked like any other patient, peaceful and calm
with no trace of the wild makeup that marked her out as different when
on stage. In order to clean up her superficial cuts and bruises on her
face, they had taken all her makeup off, and, with a slight amount of
surprise, Alan realised that his charge was very pretty.
"But she hides it all trying to be fierce." He decided, somewhat amused
despite the severity of her condition. "Ironic."
He checked her over for one last time, then gave the word for the
others to take her down to the ward. Then, once he had removed his mask
and washed his hands, he headed out to the waiting room, where Roxy and
Jetta were both sitting in silence, and Stormer was bravely trying to
continue half hearted conversation. For the naturally shy synth player,
it was a tough job, for both girls had withdrawn into quiet,
intimidating shells.
It was Jetta, though, that she was most worried about, for the English
girl was still very pale and her eyes were clouded with the memory of
her experiences. Remembering Jetta had had no sleep at all, she reached
over to touch her friend's
shoulder.
"Maybe you should go home and sleep. I'll phone if there's news." She
murmured. Jetta shook her head.
"Not a chance." She replied quietly.
"Miss Burns?" The surgeon approached them, and Jetta immediately
surmised who he was.
"Yes?" She responded tiredly. "News is?"
"She's stable. We've done a lot of repair work and she's come through
it as well as can be expected." Alan told her. "She'd cracked four ribs
and one
lung was pretty much torn to pieces, it took a lot of careful work to
get
it back together right but I think we did the trick. It's certainly
working better now, though it's early days and she has a long way to
go."
"And other than her chest injury?" Stormer asked softly, feeling more
than a little sick at the doctor's casual description.
"Other than that, her injuries are more or less superficial." Alan
responded. "Scrapes, bruising, a few cuts and scratches. Her left arm
is a bit swollen but the bone people don't think it's a break, in any
case it was more important to do the chest surgery and worry about that
later. Its likely though that she just twisted and bruised it in
tumbling out of the car as she did." He met Jetta's gaze. "She was
within legal limits...just."
"She was?" Jetta looked a little startled. "Oh! Guess...guess she was
right, then. She was okay to drive." She spread her hands. "I'm glad
you told me that, at least. I thought it were my fault for lettin' 'er
drive, but I knew I weren't legal."
"It was an accident." The doctor assured her. "I...understand she has a
colourful driving style at the best of times."
"Damn right she does." Roxy muttered. "Stupid girl."
"Has anyone contacted her family?"
"I did." Stormer acknowledged. "I called our manager, in Canada, then I
put a call through to Harvey Gabor's office. He's out of town but they
promised to get the message to him at once."
"That's good." Alan smiled. "Well, she's been transferred down to ICU.
She has a lot of wires and cables at the moment - don't be alarmed,
they're keeping her going. The next 48 hours are critical, if she comes
through those with minimum bother, then things look positive. She's
been treated for shock and we're keeping her sedated for the time
being, to help her body heal a little."
"Can we...see her?" Stormer asked hesitantly. "I mean, we're not
exactly
family, but..."
"I don't see why not." Alan responded. "So long as you're quiet. I
mean,
she is sedated, but there's no harm in being safe."
He cast a glance at Jetta, then frowned.
"Miss Burns?"
"Yeah?"
"Were you in the car with Miss Gabor, is that what happened?"
"Yes...so?"
"Have you spoken to a doctor yourself?"
"No, but I'm fine. I ain't 'urt more than scrapes." Jetta shrugged. "I
ain't
gonna faint, I'm tougher than that."
"Well, all right, but if you feel unwell, don't hesitate to come talk
to
someone." Alan realised that he was dealing with an obstinate character
and
that pressing the issue would do more harm than good. Wisely he decided
let
it drop. At that moment anyhow they reached ICU, and Alan led the way
into
the sideward, checking the monitors and nodding in approval at what he
saw.
"Well, she's nice and stable still." he reported. "So I'll leave you to
your
own devices." He cast them a smile. "And try not to worry too much.
Everything
that can be done is being done."
~*^*~PIZZAZZ'S CHRONICLE~*^*~
Part
One: Summer, 1989
Chapter One: Alone
Chapter Two: A Night Out
Chapter Three: Tragedy
Chapter Four: Aftermath
Chapter Five: Alan Garcia
Chapter Six: Fire vs Fire
Chapter Seven: Eric
Chapter Eight: Ambition
Chapter Nine: Eric's Offer
Chapter Ten: Misfits To Arms