Page 9 of Snow Blind

"I want to ask questions, but I’m not sure if I should," Helen said to her. "However, if whoever shot him is looking for proof, they are going to come tracking. I thought the guest this morning was tracking him."

She walked past Cranberry to the makeshift surgical room off the kitchen, "You weren't expecting him?"

"No, he was the last person I would ever expect to see," Helen admitted remorsefully.

"Then why was he here?" she asked as she donned gloves before emptying the waste down a drain.

"A concerned father trying to understand a son who is more than likely so much like him that it is unnerving to them both," she replied.

"And why, pray tell, is this man coming to see you about his son? Are you in a relationship with a younger man because he...Cranberry who was that? Was that the Fer de Lance?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny," Helen said, "but he did take your coffee mug. It was the only thing I saw him physically touch outside of taking the bacon from the fridge."

"Shit, I don't want to know," she said, looking at Helen. "Honestly, I have no idea what to do with you or how to train you to stage accidents. We have three months together, and right now, I am at a loss."

"Well, I learned how to install a catheter yesterday against my will," Helen said, trying not to laugh. "I don't know if I will be able to make eye contact with him once he gets on his feet."

"Against your will?"

"Yes! I would not have voluntarily chosen to witness that process ever! I also learned how to do a basic debridement of a wound and put on a plaster cast," Helen said. "You ran an IV line, pushing two pints of O-Neg, which you happen to have in the medical fridge as well as a gurney in your home. I swapped out the blood bags for a saline solution for hydration for the patient. I assisted in the removal of a bullet and cauterized a wound with a hot poker. I did a physical examination of a man's injuries, tending to the most critical. And that was my first day with you."

"Well, yeah, there was that," Passion Fruit said. "Can we go back to the Fer de Lance being in my home? How did he get in and why is that chair over in the corner?"

"He moved it there to be all dramatic and shit," Helen said. "He tracked me here. Evidently, I have a tracker on my vehicle."

"Cranberry, we need to remove it."

"I think I might be safer with it there for now," she said. "It is how he found me, and until I get a transponder, let it be under his watchful eye."

Passion Fruit watched her face. "Do you want to discuss why he was here to talk to you about his son?"

"Nope; do you want to discuss why you brought that man into your home to mend and repair? Is a bitch lonely for some company that talks back, unlike the dog?"

Passion Fruit stared at her. She wanted to open up and talk. She needed to talk to someone, but it was too soon in the mentorship to be that candid with anybody, especially an untrained Technician.

Helen picked up on it. "Hey, I get it. I do. You don't know me or anything about me. I was sent here to train, yet you have no idea what I know, but you have learned in the past twelve hours that I am teachable."

"True."

"You also learned that I walked up and saw you dragging a body. I asked no questions, but jumped in to help," Helen said, "so you can count on me."

"Also, true."

"I didn't freak out at the sight of blood, nor to walking out and finding a stranger inside the home," she said. "I think we will figure it out as we go along. My name is Helen."

"Lashonda," she replied.

"Okay, you don't look like a Lashonda," Helen said, eyeing the woman with Hispanic features but Albino looking skin.

"My daddy named me after his favorite stripper," she confessed.

"Shenita is my birth name, so my daddy must have wanted me to become one, so we have that in common," Helen said.

"You father in your life?"

"Yes, but not like he wants to be," she replied. "Partially my fault. Primarily my wish."

"Same," Lashonda said, "my father is a bad man."

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