Lost in Flight (7 page)

All the children had their mother’s dark eyes, but Christina looked more like her father’s side of the family.  Gabby was a petite 5’1 and five years younger than Christina, and seven younger than Johnny.  She was a surprise baby for their parents and the age gap, plus her small frame, had always made Christina and Johnny doubly protective of her. 

Seeing Gabby lying there in the ICU was the stuff of nightmares.  Johnny kept walking out of the room because he couldn’t cope and so it was left to Christina to pull herself together to deal with the doctors.  It took nearly all her willpower to concentrate on what they were saying and what they were saying wasn’t good.

Christina and Johnny slept in the waiting room – waiting – to hear whether their sister would live or die.  There was some unspoken understanding between them, created by fear that bordered on the mystical:  if they gave up their vigil – Gabby would die. 

They’d seen death before.  Their mother had died in a hospital not too dissimilar to this one, and they were not ready to allow death to come, and take their baby sister.  So they waited in the hope that their combined presence would make the difference in pulling Gabby through.

Johnny’s presence at the hospital was the cause of interest and began to get on Christina’s nerves.  He’d been assigned the absurd nickname of “Johnny Cool” by the popular press.  People would be surprised to learn he hated this nickname and tried to redefine himself as “Johnny Fierce” when he went through a phase of guitar smashing, drug addiction, and celebrity girlfriends.  It had never stuck, however, but to his chagrin “Johnny Cool” had. 

After the umpteenth person wandered past staring, Christina decided if anyone took a picture she would defy the laws of physics by sticking their phone or camera in places where ‘the sun don’t shine’.  As far as Christina was aware, they were spared the indignity of having one of their darkest moments uploaded for public consumption.  This wasn’t to say that Gabby’s case didn’t attract the media.  The connection to Johnny ensured that it did. 

The Press circled liked vultures, with an increasingly brittle Christina having to field questions until they arranged a media spokesperson to act on their behalf.  They lurched from one crisis to another, while at the same time hoping Gabby would live.  Johnny hired Jed McGuiness, a rather large, dark haired, dark eyed, tattoo covered, and dry humored Irishman, as security because someone had tried to enter Gabby’s room to take photographs before they were wrestled out. 

Pictures appeared in the newspapers and on television.  Christina hardly recognized herself.  It felt like a lifetime ago that she was the person too caught up in work to answer her phone.  

It took them three days to contact their father, and by the time he arrived an exhausted Johnny and Christina were happy to place the leadership of the family in his hands.  Unfortunately, Jack Martin didn’t really do leadership.  He preferred to communicate his ideas through playing guitar or blurting inappropriate comments that were difficult to follow for the average person. 

Their family reunion was awkward and tearful – made more awkward because it was tearful.  Dad, of all people, didn’t go much for public displays of affection beyond singing or strumming his feelings.  Their father was originally from South London and Christina had always viewed him as in this world, but not quite of it. 

Seeing their father cry made Christina break down in tears again.  Her tears abruptly stopped when she heard her father sob.  “I thought she was going to be the normal one out of all you kids, but she isn’t.”  Johnny and Christina shared a look, but decided, under the circumstances, to let it slide.

In response to what faced them: Christina was caught between rage and reason.  Someone had thrown their baby sister –
her
baby sister - out of a tree and they were going to pay.  Christina made her mind work so her heart wouldn’t stop every time the doctors came to speak to them and to calm the panic in her stomach. 

All that was once essential and important in her life was given clarity.  Held up to this light, it appeared empty and the icy barriers she’d constructed around herself began to thaw.  Her heart was banging on the door.

While waiting for Gabby’s prognosis, Christina began focusing her attention on the details of her sister’s case, making notes and contacts, trying to piece together the information of what had happened.  She contacted her friend and private investigator, Andy James, who began to collect evidence on their behalf against the company responsible.  The damages in Gabby’s case could potentially be phenomenal and a civil case was a given, but Christina was also tempted to pursue criminal charges for the attempted murder of her sister.  As far as she was concerned:  this was war.

Gabby’s progress was slow, but incremental.  She was removed from the ICU a week later, but the Martins learned Gabby would be in hospital anywhere between 12 and 24 weeks - maybe even longer.  She had to have several operations, physical therapy, and be monitored for months afterward.  Much of it depended on how Gabby would cope with the trauma.

The magnitude of what happened was only being fully realized by the Martins.  They all had commitments, so decided to split up the duties.  Dad would take the first month, Johnny the second, and Christina the third.  This allowed all of them to get their affairs in order and ensure that a family member would look after Gabby at all times.  Johnny organized accommodation in Seattle, which they shared with Gabby’s bodyguard, Jed. 

At first, the thought of sharing a house with a complete stranger disturbed Christina, but as she got to know Jed, she genuinely enjoyed his company.  He had a series of bizarre nicknames for the Martin sisters such as “girly”, “Princess”, or “Cheeky.”  Although Jed came across as a bit of a gruff comedian, no one had broken into Gabby’s room again while he was on watch. 

When they’d first been introduced, Jed had seemed familiar, but Christina couldn’t place him and he didn’t elaborate on whether they’d met before.  She just put it down to Jed’s easy manner that was somehow comforting, even if the man himself was built like a street fighter.

For her first tour of duty looking after Gabby, Christina had managed to avoid her hometown, but her luck ran out for the second.  Gabby was about to be released from hospital and for some bizarre reason, Dad and Johnny decided they should return to Shanwick for Gabby’s recuperation.  Christina had argued strongly against this because Gabby lived in Seattle, Johnny lived in New York, and she in Washington. 

It made no sense to Christina for them to move back to Shanwick.  When she was outvoted 3-1, Christina petulantly refused to return to Shanwick until her father emotionally blackmailed her.  Dad suggested remodeling the house for Gabby, something that hadn’t been done since before their mother died and all of them had wanted. 

With sad eyes and a drooping mouth, Dad looked at her.  “I understand.  You’re really busy, but it would be so nice to see the family come together – just once -
for your sister
.” 

Christina didn’t admit defeat often, but on this, even she knew she’d been beaten.  She always rose to the challenge of a fight and would take no prisoners, but she hated hurting people intentionally, especially her father.  As a compromise, she agreed to two weeks in Shanwick and reserved the right to leave if she found it unbearable. 

Chapter Six – The home route

Christina, Shanwick, The Past, Saturday 29 September 2012, (Seven days ago)

“Rory Gallagher was a better guitarist than Jimi Hendrix.  Hendrix even said so,” Dad insisted.

“Oh come on, Dad,” Johnny snorted, “he was just being polite…”

“Rubbish,” scoffed Dad, “it was the truth.  What do you think, Dina?” 

“I-don’t-really-care,” Christina groaned.

She could feel the eyes of her father and her brother on her, but she chose to ignore them.  She knew she was being rude, but she was finding it difficult to control her irritation.  Christina had been house bound, by choice, for a week and she was slowly going stir-crazy with only the Martin men for company.

Unlike the rest of her family, Christina was not remembered in her hometown with fondness or grudging respect.  She had been the town’s resident bad girl, someone the police once questioned as a murder suspect, and a morality tale of how girls shouldn’t behave.  It didn’t matter what she did in her professional life, here in Shanwick, she may as well have been in stasis as at circa 1998.

Despite Dad and Johnny’s best efforts, Christina had remained inside the house, refusing to venture into town.  She just wanted to leave and her depressive mood had begun to suck the life out of everything in close proximity.

“Wow,” Johnny laughed.  “You’re just a little ray of sunshine, aren’t you? 

“She’s my very own little Eeyore, the donkey,” Dad snorted.

“Are you calling Dina an ass, Dad?” 

Both the Martin men started guffawing, which made Christina sigh and turn away.  She was tempted to wrestle Johnny to the ground, like she did as a teenager, and put him in a headlock.  It wouldn’t be the first time, and at the rate things were going, it wouldn’t be the last.  Johnny must have sensed her line of thinking, because he moved out of reach, and kept looking out the corner of his eye to make sure she didn’t pounce. 

Instead of inflicting bodily injury on her brother, she buried herself in renovations - stripping wallpaper, sanding, filling holes in the walls, and trying to avoid her family.  If she’d allowed herself, she might have actually enjoyed the experience, but she didn’t.  She was too stubborn for that. 

Rather than being sympathetic to Christina’s plight, the music wars began.  Music had always played an important role in the Martin family as a way of bonding and communicating with one another. The Martins came from a long line of musicians and they, themselves, had once been a family act.  Christina had been trained classically as an opera singer, until the age of 14, when she refused to continue.  She didn’t sing publicly now and knew it disappointed her family, but she decided long ago that she didn’t want a career in music.  

It was here, that Christina decided to extract some form of petty revenge.  Practical jokes and pranks were Martin family tradition.  Whoever got up first, ruled the music selection and whoever broke first, lost the war.  Christina set her alarm for 5:00 a.m. to make sure she was up earliest to inflict syrupy pop music on her family.

Both Johnny and Dad were pathological music snobs about contemporary pop music.  Christina took particular delight in playing anything by Britney Spears, Justin Bieber, One Direction and Carly Rae Jepson.  She also played Flo Rida’s “Whistle Song” that Dad found borderline obscene.

Britney’s “Toxic” was a particular favorite that Christina played on repeat, hoping her family would acknowledge the unsubtle sub-text of the song to how she viewed Shanwick.  Christina wondered which one of them would break first, but to her own surprise: it was her.  When “Toxic” played for the tenth time, Johnny looked at her, closed his eyes and started shaking his head from side to side.  “MMMMM,” he sung and launched into the chorus.

She burst out laughing.  Christina couldn’t help it because Johnny’s voice was so deep and this was the opposite of what he usually sung.  Her laughter turned into howls as Johnny started dancing to the riff of the song.  He pulled a face, clenched his hands into fists, and started crumping. 

Laughingly, Johnny pulled her into his arms and they started dancing.  “Sing it, Dina” and so she had.  Even Dad was laughing.  He came over and hugged her.  “See, singing is as easy as breathing for you, Dina, and necessary.” 

Although it was difficult for her to concede, she knew Dad had a point.  From thereon in, the atmosphere changed in the Martin house and she joined in on everything.  She even joined in on the bickering, backing Johnny for Jimi Hendrix and Dad for the Beatles over the Rolling Stones, but refused to call on the best song ever. 

“Sweet child o’ mine” versus “Stairway to Heaven?”  Christina thought, “Not-touching-that.”  It would make the Middle East look peaceful.

They sang together as much as they could with all of them singing or reworking covers to make them their own.  They practiced until they got it perfect and Dad was so impressed, he suggested they release versions under Johnny’s label, but Christina waved that idea away.  It was Johnny’s domain, not hers and she had no intention of venturing into that field. 

By the time it came to painting, Christina was enjoying herself much more than she believed possible.  To her surprise, Dad gave the responsibility of choosing the color scheme of the house to her.  She figured it wasn’t much of a choice between her and Johnny, but she was still secretly honored. 

The upside to all this, was her time in Shanwick was almost at an end and it had passed without incident.  Once the painting was finished, she was free to leave, but she wasn’t as happy about it as she thought she would be.  Apart from the early altercations with Dad and Johnny, she had enjoyed her time with them. 

The downside was that she would have to venture outside the house and into town.  Christina didn’t lack for courage, but the thought made her nervous.  She didn’t know many people who enjoyed being an object of hatred and scorn.  She had been well insulated and protected from most people inside the Martin home, but hiding away was no longer an option.

Christina flinched when Johnny touched her arm.  “You okay, Dina?  You disappeared there for a minute.”  She looked up into the dark brown eyes of her brother, so like her own and smiled. 

“I’m fine,” she shrugged.  “Everything’s…”

“Fine?”  Johnny grinned and shook his head.  “Sure.  I got it.  You’re
fine.
  You know, for a lawyer, you really are a shitty liar.  Come on, we can go together.”

Christina breathed a sigh of relief and nodded.  “Thanks, Johnny.”

“No problem, sis,” Johnny winked and then nudged her with his shoulder.  She grinned at him and nudged him back.  Their eyes locked and it was so on.  They started play fighting like kids and when they scored direct hits on one another, they’d pump their arms in the air yelling, “Dina” or “Johnny” for the win.