At the Cole Hospital, Fifi was in bad shape.
The apparent reason for her fall at the club was, it was determined, a bad combination of pills and alcohol.
In the lobby of the hospital stood Barlow McGee, Janie Engle, and Dr. Martin Roberts, another of the three Cole doctors.
Barlow seemed nervous. Finally, he walked to the telephone booth. He closed the door, and sat down. At first, he thought about not calling Jim, but he was one of the few people who knew where he was. Thus, he called the hotel where Jim was staying, in Natchez.
"Hello, the room of Jim Ballinger, please." He paused. Jim answered.
"Jim--hey, boy. This is your ole buddy, Barlow!"
"What the hell are you calling me for?" Jim replied. "You haven't told anybody where I am, have you?"
"Shut your mouth!" Barlow said. "I have some news that might surprise you."
"What?"
"It's about Fifi."
"Tell me!"
"Fifi passed out at the country club this afternoon. At first, we thought she was just drunk, but it turned out more serious! Jim, we're here at the Cole hospital. I suggest you come here immediately!"
"I'll get there as soon as I can, Barlow! Thanks for calling!"
Jim showered and dressed, and headed for Cole.
"I have a confession to make," Barlow said, confronting the crowd, who were now seated, all sipping coffee.
"What is it?" Janie asked.
"I've known where Jim has been all along. The morning he left, he made me swear not to tell anybody. He told me to keep an eye on Fifi."
"I'll be damned!" Dr. Roberts said. "What next!"
"I just had to tell Jim about Fifi," Barlow said. "He's been staying in Natchez, and he's on his way here right now." Addressing Janie, Barlow continued, "I know you won't tell anyone Jim's whereabouts. You know how things get out of balance in this place--stories get embellished, spread around. I'm damned tired of this little town! The ones who gossip about the wrongs of others are, actually, the most wrong!"
"Now, Barlow," Janie replied, "you know I wouldn't gossip about Fifi or Jim! Fifi's always been my dearest friend!"
"Well," Barlow said, "when he gets here, please don't say anything about Natchez. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Let him tell you."
Suddenly, one of the nurses entered the lobby. "Dr. Roberts, Mr. Anderson in room fourteen is dizzy again."
"Certainly," the doctor said, rising. He turned to Barlow and Janie. "You people going to stay here all night?"
"Night?" Janie gasped.
Dr. Roberts walked to one of the windows, opened the curtains, and revealed the darkness.
"Oh, Lord," Barlow said, "I didn't realize it was night already. I've got to get back to the club."
"I'm going on home now," Janie said. "But I sure won't get much sleep."
"We'll call you the first time there is any news," Dr. Roberts said.
"Feel free to call any time!" Janie assured.
As she was walking toward her car, Janie came face to face with Mark. They both stopped.
"Hello, Mark."
"Hi, Janie. Any more news on Fifi?"
"You needn't even go in," Janie replied. "We know nothing yet."
"Well," Mark said. "I might as well go to the snack bar. I haven't eaten all day!"
"You haven't?" a worried Janie replied.
"No. I worked overtime today--just didn't get around to it."
"Well, why don't you come by my house and I'll cook us dinner."
"Uh--I couldn't--I mean--we--," Mark continued.
"Don't argue," Janie interrupted. "If you remember anything about my cooking, you'll not leave hungry!"
"Well, I don't see how it could hurt, Miss Janie," Mark replied. "Give me a little while to go home and wash up, and I'll be there in a few minutes!"
"Fine, Mark."
As they drove home separately, Mark and Janie thought about some of the happy and sad moments of their marriage. They, in a way, were still concerned about each others well being, but realized that a permanent life together would be impossible.
At one o clock Sunday morning, everything was silent in the lobby of the Cole hospital.
Jim, sound asleep in a chair, was suddenly awakened by Dr. Roberts.
"Fifi died at twelve forty.
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