elemental 03 - whitecap (6 page)

Weeks after Aira discovered the depths of the situation she was heading into, she noticed another change in her grandmother. Instead of simply being stiff and weak, she was confined to the reclining chair she kept in the front room, adjoined to the kitchen and dining room. 

“I’m just tired,” she told the two men, brushing aside their concerns. She managed to make it out to her favorite garden once a day, but she delegated the rest of the upkeep to her three houseguests.  Aira threw herself into her chores with a dedication she hadn’t felt in years, pulling weeds as aggressively as if they were the cause of her grandmother’s deterioration. Aira noticed the rain was more frequent than usual for the time of year; every day there was a downpour, until the whole property was drenched, lower-lying parts of it turned into a mire of mud and waterlogged plants. The ponds verged on overflowing and it was only with effort that the cultivated gardens managed to thrive. 

One morning, Aira woke up gripped, not with the transient lust that ran through her veins as her elemental energy crested with the rising of the sun, but with a sense of intense foreboding and dread. She turned over in her bed, feeling an urge to cry that was so strong she couldn’t resist it, no matter how she wanted to. Aira buried her face against her pillow and began to sob, not knowing why she was crying, but knowing she felt a grief so intense she couldn’t deal with it any other way. She sobbed uncontrollably, her whole body shaking, cries of anguish ripping through her throat muffled only by the pillow. After several long moments, the spasms of grief began to abate, and Aira was left trembling but calm, the tears drying on her face.

She went directly to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, in her eyes, trying to erase the evidence of her outburst. It wasn’t until she was drying her face that she realized she couldn’t smell the usual savory aroma of breakfast cooking. 

Aira rushed from the bathroom and through the hall, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste. She emerged in the front room, and immediately turned to look for her grandmother. The elderly woman sat in her chair, having spent the night there. She was wide awake, her eyes open, but her breathing shallow. 

“Good morning, my dear,” her grandmother said with an effort, forcing a slight smile. “I thought you’d be awake soon.” She coughed, a heavy sound in the stillness of the room. “Wake Aiden and Dylan. It’s time for us to go.” 

Aira trembled, the tears rising in her once more. “What’s wrong, Grams?” she asked, her voice quaking as she reached out ineffectually to touch the woman who had been her mentor. 

“Don’t worry about me just yet. Get Dylan and Aiden. We need to go to the hospital.” Aira nodded dumbly, biting her lips together and turning to the task she was given. The two brothers woke in confusion, Aiden asking her what the hell was wrong and Dylan giving her a look so full of knowledge and vicarious pain that Aira couldn’t meet his gaze. 

“We have to get Grams to the hospital. Get your ass out of bed right now or I will fucking leave you.” Aira whirled away from the door to their bedroom, her heart pounding. She threw on the first clothes she grabbed, not caring if they fit or matched, and crammed her feet into a pair of shoes without stopping to consider socks. She rushed back out to find Dylan standing in the front room having a low-voiced conversation with her grandmother, kneeling at the side of the recliner. Aiden came out, pulling a shirt over his head, and Aira barely managed to restrain her annoyance at him, instead moving to her grandmother’s side. 

“Grams,” she said, coming around to the front of the chair. “Let me help you up.” The older woman hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. Aira pulled, ignoring the pain she felt shoot through her back and knees as she helped her grandmother out of the chair. Dylan was by her side, taking the other arm, and the three of them made their way out of the house slowly, Aiden opening the front door and running for the car, opening the passenger side door.

“Let me drive,” Aiden told Aira brusquely, moving to the driver’s seat. 

Aira started to argue, but her grandmother intervened. 

“Girl, he’s got a handle on himself. Get in the back seat and keep your mouth shut.” 

Aira bit back the sob that threatened to rise from her chest and did as she was told. 

The drive to the hospital was tense, Aira sitting curled up in the back seat next to Dylan, trembling and holding back her tears. She reached out at one point and grabbed for the younger brother’s hand, gripping it tightly, uncaring of if she hurt him. The pain in her back flared up, and Aira realized she had injured herself helping her grandmother out of the chair. It seemed appropriate, and for the moment she didn’t mind the pain at all. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing when it became apparent that her state of distress was making the wind rise, making it more difficult for Aiden to keep the car under control. 

They arrived finally, and Aira threw herself out of the car, rushing around to the passenger side to open the door and help her grandmother out. 

“We need help!” she barely heard Dylan calling out to the emergency room personnel hanging near the entrance. “I think this woman is having a heart attack!” The second call brought them around, and in moments Aira was being carefully pushed aside as strong orderlies helped her grandmother out of the car and into a wheelchair, making sure she was settled as they peppered her with questions about her symptoms. Aira leaned against a pillar and cried out, the movement sending a wave of pain through her injured back. Aiden was at her side immediately, his touch burning into her as he held her up. Aira welcomed the pain, taking a deep breath and swallowing her grief and panic. She followed the orderlies into the hospital slowly, pain making it difficult to move. She watched her grandmother disappear into the depths of the hospital as a nurse brought her paperwork to fill out. Aira yelped again as she lowered herself into a chair, the change in position sending another jolt of pain through her. 

“I think she injured her back helping her grandma out of a chair,” Aiden was saying to the nurse, his voice tight with urgency. “Isn’t there something you can give her?” 

The nurse was calm, replying they could see to Aira as soon as her grandmother’s paperwork was done. Aira stared at the clipboard, all of the printing looking like an esoteric language she hadn’t yet mastered, the pen in her hand hopelessly abstract. She felt a sob growing in her chest once more and stifled it ruthlessly, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She was an air elemental, she told herself firmly. She embodied language and knowledge. She could get through this. She opened her eyes and the words cleared before her. Aira began filling out the forms in numb shock, succumbing to the demands of the moment. She knew all of the information required; she had copies of the relevant identification put aside in her wallet weeks before. Aira finished the forms and handed them to the nurse, who disappeared into the ER with them.

Dylan sat one side, Aiden on the other. Aira felt icy, cold calm wash through her and realized Dylan was touching her arm, pushing his energy into her to sustain her in the moment. 

“I’m sure she’ll be okay,” Dylan said quietly. “This is a really good hospital.” 

Aira stared at him, torn between rage and bitter sadness.

“No,” she said hoarsely. “You and I both know she’s not going to be okay.” Aira’s breath hitched in her throat and she coughed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “She’s dying. There’s nothing they can do to save her.” She looked at Dylan, wanting to crumple into a heap on the floor; between the intense, jarring pain of her back and knees and the emotional upheaval she felt, Aira thought she couldn’t possibly stand a moment more.

Outside, the wind began to howl. The lights flickered and startled voices rose. Aira realized, in a pain induced stupor, that she was provoking a terrible windstorm—one that could knock out the power, though a hospital as big and important as this one definitely had generators. She calmed herself down harshly, tears stinging and burning as they fell from her eyes.
“Get a hold of yourself, girl,”
she heard in her mind, her grandmother’s firm voice giving a command she had heard so many times in her life.
“You’re better than this. Don’t you dare throw a tantrum.”
Aira pushed her will outward, finding the wind and orienting herself with it, breathing slowly and steadily to dispel the gale and bring the wind speed down to normal. It took effort and several minutes, while the lights flickered two more times, startling the staff and patients alike, before the weather returned to normal once more.

“Excuse me,” she heard Aiden saying stridently several feet away. He was standing at the admitting desk, and when she looked at him, she saw him crackling with energy—fierce, orange-red energy that mimicked the fire that made up his essence. “Could someone please see to my friend? She’s in a lot of pain and stress.” One of the nurses came up, ready to dismiss Aiden, but Aira watched as he seemed to grow larger, staring the woman down. “Give me a god damned clipboard so I can get my friend into your system. Her grandmother is having a heart attack and she’s pulled out her back—your coffee break can wait.” The woman handed over a clipboard and Aiden came quickly back to Aira’s side. “Give me your stuff,” he said, barely looking at her as he sat down with the clipboard and pen. Aira handed over her wallet in nervous hands, trembling from the effort to keep her energy contained, and the stress and anguish she felt. 

Aiden filled out her paperwork as Aira sat waiting for her own name to be called and to receive information about her grandmother. She managed to make a few phone calls, alerting the most important members of her family to the situation, and fell into a stupor, the pain gnawing up her back. It took every effort Aira could expend to keep her energy from flowing out of control, to keep herself calm enough to prevent the wind rising once more. She stared at the abysmal mural on the wall, counting brush strokes, impervious to everything going on around her as she continued to wait. She had never managed to master patience; as an air elemental, it would never be her strong suit. The best she could muster was a kind of grim determination to sit where she was, to not utter a sound, and enter a kind of miserable, trancelike state. Soon enough, she knew, everything would come crashing down around her. She wasn’t going to rush the process.

C
HAPTER
6

AIRA PACED THE LENGTH OF the waiting room, her arms crossed over her chest, her mouth tightly closed. It had been hours since her grandmother had been admitted. While they had gotten word that she was “stable,” Aira hadn’t been allowed to see her. 

Aira had, however, been tended to by a doctor, who took an x-ray of her back and judged she simply had a very bad strain. The brusque, but not unkind doctor, had given her a shot in either hip: one a steroid, the other an anti-inflammatory. He told her to take it easy—to rest, but not to spend her days in bed. She was given prescriptions for muscle relaxers and pain pills, which Aira said brusquely she would take care of later.

The truth was, she was terrified to leave the hospital before she had a chance to speak with her grandmother; she was terrified if she left, the woman would simply die—simply fall into the final slumber, all alone. Aira didn’t want to watch her grandmother die, but she didn’t want to abandon her vigil either. As soon as she was released by the doctor, she had resumed her post in the waiting room and quickly began pacing.

The steroid she had been given was making her heart pound, giving her a level of nervous energy Aira almost couldn’t handle. She knew she wouldn’t sleep at all that night—no matter what happened otherwise. Dylan suggested getting her something from the cafeteria, and Aiden watched her with wary concern. Members of Aira’s family began to show up, knowing, as she did, that for Grandma to be in the hospital, the situation must indeed be dire.

 Aira’s mother would come from out of town if she was needed, she had said. Aira had replied she would keep her mother posted. The pain in her back was gone—between the medicine, the cold numbness seeping through her, and the anxiety clawing away at her mind every few minutes. She had much more important things to focus on Aira felt tears welling in her eyes and clenched her hands into tight fists, digging her nails into her skin and taking deep breaths to hold back the sobs tightening her chest.

It began to pour rain outside—an unexpected torrential downpour that made the waiting patients and staff alike stare out the windows in shock. Aira turned away from it, knowing the cause, knowing it was a sign. Her grandmother’s control over the element she was aligned with was slipping. Aira irrelevantly and wryly thought a flood wouldn’t be surprising—but it would be inconvenient. The rain pounding the windows and roof of the hospital drowned out some of the other sounds that assaulted her ears when she let herself hear, and she relaxed slightly, even as she continued to pace, knowing she was doing herself further injury and caring not an iota.

Aira had almost been persuaded by the combined worried protests of both Aiden and Dylan to sit down when a doctor came out, looking around. 

“Is there an Aira Norton-Moore here?” the harried-looking physician called out. 

Aira heard her name and rushed to him, ignoring the faint murmur of pain at the sudden movement. 

“Aira,” he said uncertainly, hesitating until she nodded. “Your grandmother wants to see you. I need to ask you not to excite her, if you can avoid it. She’s stable, but it’s very… touch and go.” He swallowed, and Aira could see her grandmother had been making things very difficult for the medical staff; probably she had been insisting for over an hour continuously, against their advice. Aira nodded. 

“I understand, Doctor,” she said with a slight smile. “My grandmother can be very… determined. Will you take me to her?” 

The man nodded, looking relieved at Aira’s acquiescence. He led her through twisting hallways into a private room. Aira wondered just what had earned her grandmother that particular privilege—although she knew that the older woman’s insurance was good, she saw many in the intensive care unit along the way that were not as fortunate to have so much privacy.