Icejacked

Out of the Hospital

Leddicus was waiting for me. He stood stiffly alongside his bed and wore some of the clothes I had brought in for him yesterday: a pale blue polo T-shirt, a dark grey linen jacket, and classic navy Levi’s. He fiddled with his collar. His short fingers with bitten nails picked at it nervously.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Fantastic!” I said.

He frowned.

“It means you look very, very good.”

He smiled broadly. Although small in stature, he was quite a good-looking guy, considering he might be two thousand years old. Or as Leddicus liked to say, “thirty-one and something.”

“You’re ready to go?”

“I am! Very ready!” He pointed proudly at the suitcase by the door. “It is full with the many clothes and other strange things you brought. They are all ready to come with me.” He walked over and picked it up. “You are very kind!”

“Well then, let’s get going. , here we come.” I led the way out into the main ward for the last time.

We were surprised and delighted to see an entourage of nurses and support staff all lined up in the ward. One gave Leddicus a box of chocolates. The ward sister shook his hand warmly.

“We are all sorry to see you go. We will miss you. But we’re so pleased that you are fit and well.”

Then everyone was crowding round him, shaking him by the hand and hugging him. Their show of affection took him quite aback.

“Let’s go the long way out this time,” I said.

I usually went through the hospital grounds, but today felt auspicious, and I wanted to make the most of it. We walked along the maze of corridors, and it took us quite a while. Word had spread that Leddicus was leaving, and everyone wanted to shake his hand and wish him well. Heads were poking out of every doorway. Leddicus smiled and shook hands happily with everyone he passed. I doubt he had seen many of them before, but he was gracious and patient to a fault.

We headed toward the main exit, and as the automatic doors whooshed open, I could not believe my eyes. Dozens of people seemed to be mobbed outside. Cameras were flashing, mics were shoved into our faces, boom mics swung above our heads, and TV crews were running toward us with cameras rolling. Suddenly, everyone was shouting questions at us in every language except Latin.

Leddicus turned to me with utter confusion on his face. He was visibly shaken, and so was I. Reacting on impulse, I grabbed his shoulder and steered him back into the hospital. We raced down the corridor as fast as our legs would take us. As we ran, I heard peace descending as the automatic doors whooshed shut. A few corridors in, we stopped to catch our breath.

“What was that?” Fear filled Leddicus’s eyes.

“Gerhardt! Gerhardt!” Mr. Bernard came running up the corridor toward us. “Wait up! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“What’s going on?” I was breathing heavily.

“Communication mix-up. The press office asked the ward sister to request you leave by the back door. In all the excitement, she forgot. So sorry!”

“Where did they come from?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Know what?” I shrugged my shoulders.

“The world press! You mean you didn’t know they were there! They have been there almost from day one, but we are very strict. They know they cannot come past the main entrance. We always protect our patients. Our policy is security and privacy.” He looked at my confused face. “You came almost every day. How did you miss them?”

“I had no idea. I always parked on a little side street. There’s a small gate into the hospital grounds. I have never used the main entrance.”

“Then you must leave that way today and quickly. Once they realise Leddicus is leaving for good, they will mob every exit.” He turned and started walking quickly.

We followed at a trot and were soon cantering across the grass toward the small exit gate and safety. I glanced down the road and saw a few people on the corner. I flung open the car door, hustled Leddicus into the backseat, and stuffed his suitcase in after him.

“Get down!” I pointed to the floor.

He scrambled in and crouched down on the floor. I jumped into the front.

“Thank you!” I said over my shoulder to Mr. Bernard.

And we were off. I had been here so often that I knew these side roads like the back of my hand. I took off at high speed. In my mirror, I could see cars giving chase. I pushed the accelerator to the floor, almost taking corners on two wheels, nipping down tiny side streets, and doubling back on myself. After about ten minutes, the rear mirror was clear, and I knew I had lost them. We slowed to a more sedate pace until I eventually pulled into a quiet side road and parked. I peeked over my shoulder to see Leddicus’s face, pale and full of horror, peering up at me from the floor of the car.

I got out and opened the back door. I grinned at him. “Come on. Let’s get a coffee.” I put my hand across his shoulder. He was shaking. “Don’t worry. That’s just the press.” I laughed aloud with the exhilaration of giving them the slip.

“Press?” His voice was shaking.

I ordered up strong black coffee for me, apple juice for Leddicus, and a plate of croissants for us to share. We ate silently for a few moments and soon felt calm again and ready to face the world, if not the world press. It took a while to explain the concept of the paparazzi to Leddicus, but one thing that constantly amazed me about him was his ability to take in new information, assimilate it, and deal with it.

“Paparazzi?” He tested the word.

“The bane of modern life. They are a bunch of leeches.”

At this, he smiled. He obviously knew what a leech was. I paid the bill, and we headed out of the café. While we were escaping from the mob, he had been flung unceremoniously onto the floor of my car and then jolted round a dozen back streets. As we walked toward the Audi, he hesitated, and those trademark creases crept between his eyebrows. He stopped and looked at me. The creases grew ever deeper.

“This animal, it makes no sense to me.” He pointed at the car. “It growls like a tiger, smells like fire, and bumps me around like ten chariots.”

“Oh, Leddicus, how can you say that about my beloved Audi. It’s my pride and joy.” I patted its bonnet and opened the passenger door for him. “Tell you what. You sit in the front with me, and I promise you’ll enjoy it much more than being scrunched up on the floor at the back.”

He climbed in reluctantly, and I helped him fasten the seat belt. His hands were gripping the seat even before I fired up the engine. I didn’t think my driving was that bad!

As we drove on, I mused about what we had just come through. We had already talked about where to go and what to do, and I had given him some money and a wallet.

He had said, “But what is wrong with my money?” He looked at the Swiss francs I had got for him. “But this does not feel or look as if it has any real value.”

“Trust me, it does.”

Leddicus was still disturbed that his money wasn’t going to be used. “I don’t understand how the money will not be useful anywhere with all that Pax Romana has brought.”

I hadn’t heard that phrase for a long time. I smiled. What a strange concept in today’s world, but is it so strange? It was going to be fascinating watching as Leddicus moved from the familiar hospital surroundings into the big wide world. If he were who he said he were (and so far, I had no reason to disbelieve him even though it went against every atom within me), from here on, everything he looked at was going to be new and alien.

As I concentrated on driving, he sat quietly. He watched the passing countryside with great interest and occasionally asked me to explain various landmarks. After driving for ninety minutes, I needed more coffee.

And here begins the first of many new adventures for Leddicus. I began looking for a service station.

***

Mr. Bernard sat in his office. He calmly sipped some hot tea and felt greatly relieved that Mr. Palantino was no longer his responsibility. He also felt a little smug that he had discharged the requirement to keep the press completely at arm’s length. It had cost the hospital a lot in increased security, but thankfully, that cost was being covered. A text alert buzzed onto his phone.

Good work. Money being transferred to your account today. Keep me posted on further developments.

He fired up an e-mail to his boss to request some well-earned leave, and now he could afford to go somewhere exotic.