Designed to Love (13 page)

"Ronan and Claire listen to me," Alisha
commands, grabbing Claire's chin and forcing her to look up. "We
don't know if this is even the airplane that Cat was flying or if
she was the one piloting it, but I can tell you this much, we are
not going to die on this mountainside with whoever it was. So pull
it together Claire, we need you to get us out of here!" she
demands, her bright blue eyes darting between the two of us.

"Okay," Claire whimpers stoically, squeezing
her eyes shut as she continues to hiccup and sniffle. The energy
directed to her from the rest of us, is barely enough to get the
engine started and the now frozen rotor blades fail to produce
lift. Brandon's thoughts consist of melting the ice off the blades
and as soon as the rest of us join him in thinking the same, the
helicopter begins to ascend off the ground. The thought energy
offered by me is minimal and every once in a while, Alisha barks
out orders for more. I hold on to the faintest hope that the person
who perished on that mountain side was someone other than my
Cataryn. My thoughts alternate between helping the others fly the
helicopter into Boise, and finding my wife safe at home.

***

Miraculously, we make it to the Boise
airport without crashing, in spite of our reduced psychokinetic
output of energy and the increased blizzard-like conditions. Alisha
and Burke transfer the objects from the crash into Brandon's
airplane, using a blanket to hide the gruesome remains found at the
site. One glance at the body part in the back would give me the
answer I needed. I knew every inch of Cat's body better than I did
my own. I could identify any part of her by touch, sight, or smell.
As if reading my mind, Alisha mentally says,
"If it is her, you don't want to remember her in that
way."
The sorrow in her eyes when she says this chokes
me up again and I close my eyes in a futile attempt to contain the
tears that are once again running down my face. I don't react when
Alisha reaches over and places her hand inside of mine.

The fixed wing airplane takes much less
effort to keep in the air and Brandon assures us that all we're
needed for is to keep the airplane wings defrosted. Alisha allows
Claire to fall asleep in her lap, only waking her when Brandon
alerts us of ice buildup, which then takes less than ten minutes of
concentrated effort to defrost. By the time we land in Great Falls
to refuel, the storm is well behind us and it has been over an hour
since he's needed our help. Now stationary, we have the ability to
connect with Elizabeth, and Burke squeezes my shoulder as he says,
"I'll check and see if she's shown up." A few seconds later, he
shakes his head no, avoiding eye contact with me.

At six in the morning, there's not much
activity at the small county airport, catering to the general
aviation crowd. Less than sixteen hours ago, Cat walked through the
same doors. It was the last place she was seen alive, and I can
visualize her so vividly in my mind, that I half expect her to be
sitting in the café waiting for me. We all make a beeline for the
restroom, and when I come out, Brandon is around the corner talking
with the airport operations manager and I freeze when I realize
they are talking about Cat.

"Yeah, I heard about the possibility of a
single engine going down over Boise. Rumor has it as one of Marti
Campbell's student pilots, he says.

"Do you recall a young girl taking off in a
Cessna 172?" Brandon persists, and I hold my breath pleading for
him to say no. Feeling shaky and weak, I take a seat in a nearby
chair, and remote travel, hovering over the two of them to listen
to the rest of their conversation.

"Son, I'm an airport manager. I don't sit
around monitoring every aircraft coming and going from this
airport," he replies irritably. Brandon smiles sadly, and thanks
him for his time, turning to walk away. The manager studies him for
a moment, rubbing his chin.

"Wait! You know, now that I think about it,
I do recall someone fitting your description out on the tarmac. I
remember now, because she was talking to Mr. Harrington, a wealthy
entrepreneur from Great Britain who flies in and out of here all
the time. It struck me as odd because he's not the friendliest guy
around. As a matter of fact, I think he even assisted her in
getting the plane tied down," he says, furrowing his brows as if he
finds something about this detail troubling. "Well anyway, I don't
see the Cessna out there now, so she must have taken off in it.
I'll keep my fingers crossed that they find her safe," he adds,
looking a little awkward when Alisha, Burke, and Claire walk
up.

***

The nausea comes without warning and I
collapse down on all fours, heaving violently, spilling gastric
contents on the pavement next to the airplane, while the others
gingerly step over me to climb inside. When I'm done, I sit back on
my heels gasping to catch my breath. The realization that she's not
coming home hits me like a bulldozer, and I feel as if my insides
are going to explode. During the plane ride home, I start to plan
when, and how I will join her in the afterlife.

RONAN

I don't object when Jason plunges the needle
into the muscle in my arm. He says it is one of the quickest
delivery methods for getting the medication into my system and in
twenty minutes, I'll be asleep. What I really want is to be dead in
twenty minutes, but I refrain from saying so in front of Claire.
All of us are gathered in the great room, including Bernie
Stoddard, who chartered a flight to Canada and arrived at the
Freeman house an hour after us.

You wouldn't expect a room to be this quiet
with so many people gathered in it, but aside from an occasional
sniffle, the only sound heard is the ticking sound made by the
large clock hanging above the fireplace. Claire comes and lies
beside me on the floor and we stare at each other without saying a
word. She looks so much like Cat that it hurts to look at her, and
yet, as hard as I try, I can't look away. A single tear rolls down
her cheek and I see my pain mirrored in her eyes. She reaches for
my hand and draws it up under her chin, holding it there like she
would a stuffed toy. I have no words of comfort, so I silently
watch as a single tear turns into a stream of tears and the
moisture coats my hand beneath her chin. Eventually she yawns and
closes her eyes, successfully crying herself to sleep. Only then do
I succumb to the effects of the medication, letting myself drift
out of the nightmare my life's become.

Jason promised at least eight hours of sleep
from the medication injected in my arm, but I wake up after five.
The house is eerily quiet with the exception of Claire's faint
rhythmic wheeze as she exhales each breath. She still has her arm
wrapped around my wrist and my hand remains tucked under her chin.
The effects of the medication given to her seem to have a more
lasting effect, as she barely stirs when I pry my hand free.

Alisha is curled up on the couch next to
Jason, his arm draped loosely over her shoulder and I have to bite
my knuckles to keep from sobbing out loud for Cat. It's clear by
the way Burke and Brandon are sprawled out on the floor next to us,
that they have stationed themselves there just in case. I allow
them the luxury of sleeping in and wait until I reach Cat's and my
bedroom before breaking down. It's the first time I've entered it
since leaving for Idaho and Cat's presence is everywhere I look.
The first picture of her and I, that was taken in the photo booth
at the mall is neatly matted and framed, sitting on her nightstand.
The diamond necklace given to her on our wedding day is lying next
to it. Our wedding pictures sit in a large unopened, padded
envelope on the dresser, where we planned on looking over them
together, the evening she failed to return.

It only takes one attempt to shatter the
glass door leading to our balcony and the drop from our bedroom is
over twenty feet, a distance that should kill an average man.
Unfortunately, my animal DNA instincts overpower any
self-destructive human planning, and I land on my feet, in spite
diving off head first. I am oblivious to the fact that my hand and
arm are embedded with shards of glass and bleeding profusely. My
only thought when I hit the ground is to get as far away from her
memory as possible. I hear the voices of all five of my Designer
family explode in my mind at once, begging and ordering me to stop.
It isn't until I am almost at the river bank, that Claire blocks me
with an invisible shield, preventing my entry into the water. Even
my cetacean DNA wouldn't be enough to protect me from the freezing
river that's flowing at 1000 cubic feet per second. I curse at all
of them and plead from the depth of my soul to let me go.

***

"Nice job, bone head," Alisha says
pitilessly, looking down at me, her sky blue eyes, flashing with
anger, as she applies a tourniquet to my arm that seems excessively
tight.

"We should probably numb his arm up before
we take those out," Jason murmurs, offering her a syringe with
Lidocaine, which she promptly rejects.

"Nope, no need. He can handle the pain.
Can't you Ronan?" she sneers, as she uses the forceps to pluck the
first piece of glass out of my arm, causing me to clench my teeth
to keep from moaning.

"For God sakes leave him alone!" Elizabeth
defends me, attempting to push Alisha's hand away from my arm.

"Elizabeth, stay out of this!" Alisha warns,
barely glancing up from her mini surgical procedure, as she pulls
several more fragments of glass from my arm.

"Give him a break Alisha. You have no idea
what he's going through," Brandon says quietly.

I am lying on the couch with my arm extended
over the coffee table and the makeshift sheets draping my arm are
saturated with blood. Everyone is gathered around watching Alisha,
like a bunch of pre-med students observing in the operating room.
Alisha's face softens slightly at Brandon's remark, and her eyes
unexpectedly swell with tears, catching everyone off guard.

"Well Brandon, that's where you're wrong. I
do know what he's going through. That's the problem." She pauses
for a moment, before sighing deeply. "You guys don't get it do
you?" she says quietly, shaking her head. Setting down the
instruments, she releases the tourniquet, causing the blood to ooze
from my arm once again. She closes her eyes and rests her head in
her hands for a moment before glancing around the room at the
others.

"Our brains are not only coordinated to
communicate together but also to function together. We are starting
to take on each other's habits, thoughts, and emotions. Even I
can't resist the changes" she says, her shoulders sagging in
defeat.

What the hell is she
talking about now?
I think, wondering if it's just the
effects of the medication given to me, or if the others are as
befuddled as me.

Sensing the need to explain, she continues
without prompting. Looking directly at me, she says,

"Ronan, if you would have jumped in the
water, I would have jumped in after you. And the others would have
followed. Not because we are all suicidal like you, but because we
were experiencing the same level of emotional pain as you. We are
converging emotionally with each other. Am I right, guys?" she
asks, looking around the room.

"Yep, pretty much" Burke admits, without
hesitation, and the others echo the affirmation.

"I hate to say this, but I think we are
coalescing and becoming of a single mind. The one with the
strongest emotion, whether it's love, hate, grief or whatever, will
evoke a similar response from the rest of us and sucks us in like a
magnet," she finishes softly, picking up her instruments to resume
the tedious task of removing the glass from my arm.

"Please don't say that," I moan in agony,
forgetting about my arm altogether. The thought of them, especially
Claire, plunging in the river after me adds a new dimension to my
grief. It seems I wouldn't get the easy out I was hoping for after
all.

***

The minute I open my eyes, Elizabeth slips
her hand in mine and anxiously leans toward me. "How are you doing,
Ronan?" she whispers. Her bright blue eyes are puffy and red and
the balled up wet Kleenex in her hand is confirmation that she has
been crying.

"I wish I could ease your pain Ronan," she
gushes, fighting back fresh tears.

"Liz, I don't know if I can go through life
without her. I wish I could reassure all of you that I will be okay
someday, but I don't think I will be," I reply, choking up too.

"We'll help you Ronan. We will help you get
through this. I promise. Please don't ever try to kill yourself
again. It would kill all of us, but especially Claire. Promise me
Ronan. Promise me you won't do anything to hurt yourself," she says
with urgency.

With effort, I will myself to say the words
she wants to hear, not certain at all that I can keep such a
promise. After all, the river incident wasn't planned. It just sort
of happened as a means to end the pain.

"What time is it, Liz?"

"You've been asleep for about ten hours.
Jason gave you extra medication this time."

"Where is everyone?" I ask looking around at
the now empty great room.

"Claire is outside with Midnight Star.
Brandon and Burke went to the cottage to get some rest and I think
the others are in the kitchen getting dinner put together.

"They trusted you to watch me alone?" I ask
wryly.

"Yeah, we have this mental thing going for
us, you know," she says tapping her head with her fingers and
smiling sadly. "I know you probably don't feel up to eating, but
you should, she says, getting up and motioning me to join her in
the kitchen.

When I don't readily follow her, she turns
and says, "I am under strict orders to not leave you alone. Please
try not to get me fired on my first shift."