Authors: Unknown
I finally found the correct street and turned into a narrow tree-lined road with fairly new large two-story homes. The end of the street was a cul-de-sac, and at the very end was the Reynolds place. The place just reeked of money, but not very good maintenance. You could tell it cost a pretty penny, but that the Reynolds family didn't spend a lot on upkeep. It needed a painting, there were piles of debris along the side, and the pavement and driveway were cracked. His neighbors must really hate him, because the rest of the homes on the street were as neat, and well maintained, as could be.
They must have been waiting for me because the door opened before I had time to knock and I was greeted by the most beautiful Amazon I had even seen. She was at least six foot, with gorgeous blond hair down to her waist, big pouty lips, and breasts that could turn the corner at least four feet before she got there herself.
She was dressed in a stunning black gown, all gossamer layers, with rows of rhinestones.
Her shoes were magnificent. About three-inch rectangular clear-Lucite heels, with gold Mylar straps. One side and front were clear vinyl with a gold wreath flecked with rhinestones. The other side and the toes were open. When it comes to shoes, I'm a savant.
"Ms. Castle?" she asked.
Who else would be at your door in uniform and with bloodletting equipment?
"Yes." I was still looking at those shoes.
"Please come in. You were expected."
I followed her into the hallway. "I have to ask you. Where did you get those shoes?"
"The little store at Ventnor and Washington, in Margate. Do you like them?"
"I love them. And you look great in them. Your husband must like them."
"My husband?"
"Mr. Reynolds."
"Oh, he’s not my husband. Mr. Reynolds is my employer. I'm Jules Singreen, Mr. Reynolds' personal assistant here at the house. I handle all of the phone calls, mail, and business arrangements here. Mr. Reynolds spends a lot of time working from the home."
And I could see why.
"Is Mrs. Reynolds home? I was told she would be."
"Really? I'm sorry, but Mrs. Reynolds is at the spa today. Now if you'll just follow me."
We walked through the large foyer, with a double set of winding staircases leading up to the second floor. On the right was a large dining room, and on the left a double set of closed doors. I figured even if the wife wasn't here, at least we had a chaperone.
Jules very quietly knocked on the door, waited a few seconds, and then entered without getting a response.
"Mr. Reynolds. Ms. Castle is here."
Reynolds was there, sitting on an overstuffed easy chair. Across from him, on a very uncomfortable Victorian loveseat, sat another man, about fifty, with thinning dark hair, a face that looked like it had been through a few fights in his day, with a nose headed just a little too far east. Reynolds stood and came over to me, but did not introduce me to the other man.
"I'm so glad you could make it this evening." He took an envelop out of his pocket and handed it to me. "This is your fee for the evening. Please sit here." He pointed to a small chair that was set up next to a wooden table. Both the chair and table didn't look like they belonged in the room, so I figured they brought them in just for the test.
"I'll stand for now, if that's alright."
"Before we begin," Reynolds said, "there is one small little change."
At this point, Jules left the room, and I looked as she closed the door.
"There is nothing to fear, my dear. Jules is just on the other side of the door, and we have a witness," pointing to the other man who rose from the loveseat.
"What kind of change?" I put my supplies down on the table.
"You will be taking the sample from this gentleman, instead of me."
"He's having the blood test? Does he have a script from the doctor? I have labels with your name on them."
"That's fine, dear. You will take his blood, using the same tubes you brought with you, and place my labels on the tubes."
"I can't do that. These labels mean that it's your blood in there."
The two men looked at each other, and Reynolds motioned for the other man to sit in the chair by the table.
"Pull up your sleeve and sit down," Reynolds told him.
"If you give me his name, I'll call the lab and get..."
"I don't think you understand. You will not call the hospital. You will take this gentleman's blood, but treat it as if you had taken mine."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Reynolds. I know you’re an important person in the community, but I can't do that. I'm an MT, ASCP, and I have certain ethical standards." I started gathering my supplies.
"Please, you really don't think I would pay you $600 for a house call to take my own blood. You’re just a lab tech; I could get the head of the hospital here for less than that."
"Then I suggest you have the head of the hospital come over to take the gentleman's blood. I won't do it."
I started to walk to the door but the other man grabbed by wrist.
"You ain't gone anywhere, little lady."
Little Lady? Who did he think he was? Maybe I'm little compared to the Amazon Queen in the foyer, but I certainly didn't feel like a lady just about then.
"Let go of my wrist, you oaf." I tried to pull free but he just squeezed harder and pulled me to him.
"If the boss says you're gonna take my blood, then just take my blood and shut up. Please." The thug actually said please.
At that point, Reynolds nodded to the man and then left the room.
So this wasn't going exactly as I had expected. I did have the $600 tucked into my pocket, but I had to get out of there alive if I wanted to spend it. I certainly had no intention of taking that man's blood and saying that it was Reynolds'. And nobody calls me Little Lady and thinks they can push me around.
"Listen buster. I don't know who you think you are, but I'm a clinical laboratory professional. I live by a code of ethics, and that code says I can't do what you're asking."
"You better take my blood, and do it now, or Mr. Reynolds is gonna get real mad." He gave me a yank, and I almost lost my balance.
"Okay, you win. But you have to let go of my wrist."
"I'll let go, but don't get any ideas. It ain't worth it."
I figured I'd take his blood and put Reynolds' labels on the tubes, but when I got back to the lab I'd just throw the tubes in the biohazard disposal and pretend it never happened. When Reynolds called for the results, they won't have any, but by that time I'd have spent the $600.
I felt for a vein, wiped the spot with alcohol, and wrapped around the tourniquet. Now I'm good at taking blood, but this clown didn't have to know that. So even though the ASCP board may have frowned on it, I didn't go straight into the vein. I kind of probed around.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you had bad veins? I'm having trouble finding it."
"Just take the blood."
I moved the needle back and forth, in and out, watching him trying to stifle the pain. Men are such babies.
When I thought round one was over, I hit the vein and got one full tube. But as I pushed in the second tube, I moved the needle out of the vein.
"Oops. Your vein moved. You have what we call sliding veins; Slippicus Veinicosis is the medical term. A very serious condition."
He didn't answer; he wasn't having a good time.
I slid the needle left and right, up and down.
"That vein of yours keeps moving."
"Listen lady, this is starting to get a little uncomfortable. Just take the blood."
"It's not my fault. Sliding veins is a condition very common in men with low testosterone levels and low sperm counts. Have you been tested recently?"
"There's nothing low about my sperm. No complaints from the ladies so far."
I finally relented and took the second tube. Round three came with the final tube.
"There it goes again. And all I need is one more tube for the most important tests."
"Can't you skip it?"
"If I do, then we'll just have to start all over on the other arm."
I probed, and then probed some more. Then the guy moaned and passed right out in front of me. Baby.
I pulled the needle from his arm and threw on a bandage. I then grabbed the tubes and all the rest of my supplies, and opened the door just wide enough for me to leave.
"All done?" Reynolds said.
"Yes, I have all the blood I'm going to need."
"You have the blood? Bruno was supposed to take the tubes to the hospital. You don't think we'd trust you, do you?"
"Hey, I'm an ASCP!"
"Where is Bruno?"
Reynolds started walking to the door, so I was behind his back. I gave him the hardest shove I could, yelling, "Just forget about this test, buddy!" and he hit his head on the wall and fell to the floor.
I turned to leave and the only thing standing between freedom and me was Jules, the Amazon Queen. No way could I take her in a fair fight, I figured, so I'd have to cheat. My code of ethics said nothing about fighting dirty. But she just smiled and opened the front door for me to leave.
"The little shop at Washington and Ventnor?" I asked pointing to the shoes. No matter how badly I needed to get out of that place, those shoes were just killers.
"That's right. Ask for Ron. But they also have them at the place on Route 9, by the circle."
"Same price at both places?"
"I'm not sure. I could call both places now and ask if you'd want."
I thought about it, but then I looked over at Reynolds on the floor and wondered how long he and Bruno would be out. Still, I really loved those shoes.
"That's okay. But no thanks."
I was thinking of asking her where she got the dress but decided it may be time to get out since Reynolds started to moan. So with as much dignity as I could muster, and with one last look at those shoes, I calmly walked to my car and drove home.
When I got back home I showered and started watching my soaps, and then I called Ryan.
"Hi, Ryan."
"Hi, lover. How's everything?"
"Just fine. You sound tired."
"I am. I'm just sitting reading the paper."
"Nothing wrong?"
"No. I just really miss you. I'm filled with so much love juice, it's weighing me down."
"Oh, poor baby. We'll take care of that this weekend. I promise."
"I'll hold you to that."