The
Ticket
by John Dwaine McKenna
Copyright
2020
The
Ticket
“MR. GROGAN. . . HOYT GROGAN . ..THIS IS THE DOCTOR . . .WAKE UP MR. GROGAN . . . YOU WERE IN A CAR ACCIDENT. A car accident. A car wreck. You’re in the CCU . . . Critical Care Unit at the hospital . . . you’ve been in a medically induced coma for eight days. I’m bringing you back to consciousness. Can you hear me . . . can you feel my hand . . . can you squeeze my finger . . . very good. Don’t try to talk. Your jaw is broken and wired shut. I want you to blink once for yes and twice for no. Understand?
blink
Very good. I’m going to ask you some questions . ..
Do you remember what you were doing when the mishap occurred?”
blink blink
“No? Well, you were running from the police Mr. Grogan. You are a criminal. They found five kilos of98 percent pure cocaine and three thousand capsules of methylenedioxymethamphetamine, commonly know as ‘Molly’ or ‘Ecstasy,’ in your car. Remember?”
blink
“You’re a criminal Mr. Grogan, which is why you are handcuffed to the bed. The police clocked your vehicle in excess of 125 miles perhour. And you shot at them with a.45 caliber pistol. You wounded an officer. He’ll live, but he’ll never be the same. Remember that?”
blink
“Good. It’s good you remember because there’s more. Do you recall—and this is important. Really, really important—do you recall when you lost control and crossed into oncoming traffic? You hit another car . ..”
blink
“You do. That’s wonderful. You’re making good progress. The vehicle you hit head-on was a classic old Volkswagen beetle. It didn’t stand a chance against that big Cadillac Escalade you were driving. Remember? I know it’s hard, the crash was pretty violent.”
blink . . . blink
“I’m confused. Was that a no?”
blink blink
“Two yesses then?”
blink
“Okay. I’m impressed by your fast recovery and mental cognition so soon after reawakening. Do you need a break?”
blink blink
“You keep looking over there at the bedside stand. Would you like some water?”
blink
“Sure. I’ll get you some, and a straw to drink through . . .There. Better now?”
blink
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone double handcuffed before. You must be a high-value prisoner. Don’t worry, no answer is expected. Ready to continue?”
blink
“We’re almost done here. And just so you know, the bag up thereon the IV pole is a saline drip. So you won’t get dehydrated. And there’s a little port on it where we can administer medications. For pain and infection mostly. We use a syringe, like this one here in my lab coat pocket. We squirt a tiny amount of the liquid out to make sure there’s no air in there. Wouldn’t want to give the patient an embolism, now would we? Then we insert the needle into the port, like so, depress the plunger and violá, the meds are introduced into a patient’s body. Drip by drip by drip. Understand?”
blink
“Good. I’m almost done. Do you know, or can you recall, any of the elements of the crash?”
blink blink
“That’s okay. I didn’t really think you would. When you plowed into the VW, the cops estimated you were doing about 85 miles per hour. The other car was going 45. That’s a closing velocity of 130 miles per hour . . . and your mass was about twice that of the other vehicle . . . the driver and her passenger were both killed instantly. That woman was my wife. The passenger was our little girl. The grief I feel is crushing . . . and inconsolable. Can you understand? You, an uncaring purveyor of misery, addiction and death?”
blink blink
“Any questions?”
blink
“You look panicked Mr. Grogan. Oh. Yeah. The stuff I injected . . . thanks for reminding me. I almost forgot to put this second syringe in. There. All done now. You see, it’s a binary form of poison. Binary means two parts. It’s sorta like the stuff the state uses for lethal injections. The first part will slowly paralyze you. You’ll still hear and feel and think . . . but you won’t be able to speak or move. The second part will kick in then. You’ll start to feel flushed over the next few hours. Then you’ll get warmer, still warmer and finally hot . . . boiling hot . . . but from the inside out. You’ll feel as if your internal organs are being deep fat fried. You’ll try to scream, but won’t be able to. Finally, after a while your heart will start to spasm. It’ll race faster and faster and still faster . . . until it explodes. Literally. It’s an exquisitely painful way to die. I hope you suffer a lot, you worthless criminal piece of shit. Oh, and by the way, I unplugged the bed. You can’t call for help. You’ve got a one-way ticket to Hell. I’m leaving now. Enjoy the ride.”
blink blink
blink blink
blink blink
bl . . .
