Proof (11 page)
November 15
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ID
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OVEMBER BROUGHT
on cold, gray, misting clouds. The wind blew flags straight as if they were nailed to a wall. Lilly pulled into the parking structure near SMC and sat there, staring at the ER entrance. Her arms felt leaden with the thought of reaching up to turn off her vehicle. The sudden flood of tears obscured her eyes like trails of raindrops on a windshield. The thought of opening the door, walking on the wet cement into her department, taking off her coat, trying to comfort the sick and distressed when all she felt was fear and anxiety brought more despair.
She leaned forward and rested her head against the steering wheel, her arms tucked and folded tight into her body. The heated interior of her car provided little warmth against the darkness that sapped her strength.
At first, the gentle rocking of the vehicle barely registered through her drug haze. Then, a crisp rap on the driver’s window caused her to lift her head and look left. A crowbar came fast and struck the window again, and fine lines spread through the dirt covered glass. She turned to reach for her purse; her fingers tingled with anxiety as she groped for the gun tucked inside.
“Lilly! Are you all right?” The baritone voice reached through her cocooned ears. Relief flooded through her and she pulled her hand off the cool metal. She waved Luther away from the door.
“Lilly! Thank you, Lord. Open up! Are you all right?”
She unwrapped the scarf from her ears and disengaged the locks. Luther opened her door and immediately brought his fingers to her wrist. She nudged them away.
“I’m all right, just tired.”
“Lilly … the window. Man, I’m sorry but you scared me to death. I’ve been here forever trying to get you to wake up. The security guard brought me the crowbar and then I sent him for a gurney. Turn your car off. Do you have a headache, nausea, blurred vision?”
“All the above.” She turned off the ignition and placed her keys inside her purse.
“Come on, let’s get you inside and put you on some oxygen.”
She resisted his arms as they reached into the vehicle. “I don’t have carbon monoxide poisoning. I’m just tired. I’m not sleeping well.”
Stepping out of her vehicle, she stumbled against him. Luther gathered her in his arms to keep her steady. Lilly eased him back and leaned against her car, but he maintained a firm grasp on her upper arm.
“Lilly, are you okay? Really okay?”
“I’m fine, honestly.” She looked past Luther, seeing two other nurses paused at the ambulance entrance with a pram. Lilly waved them off, but they seemed wary to turn away. She tugged out of his grip.
“Luther, let me talk with her. I’ll make sure she gets in okay.”
Dana stood back a few feet. Luther withdrew, waving off his coworkers as well. Lilly hugged the open door for support.
“Not sleeping? Or something else,” Dana asked.
Lilly pulled her body from the gap and slammed her support structure closed, surprised that the window did not continue to shatter and shower her feet with sharp crystals. She crossed her arms tight over her chest; the sound of expanding cracks in the glass like ice falling off trees sent small pulses of apprehension up her spine.
“It’s going to be fun getting this fixed.” Lilly turned and patted the glass, her fingers numb inside her gloves. She arched her fingers and tapped harder, trying to illicit a painful response, wanting the broken shards to score into her flesh to prove she could still feel something instead of this emptiness.
“Stop that.”
Lilly shoved her hands into her pockets.
“Luther was concerned for you, as am I. Have you been drinking?”
“Not this morning.”
Dana sighed. “How much?”
“Just enough to get me to sleep.”
“So, essentially, you’re hung over. Are you doing this every night?”
Lilly avoided her gaze and pulled her coat tighter.
“What does it matter as long as I’m sober here?”
“Lilly, honestly, I’m shocked. You know what’s wrong with it! Soon, you’ll be drinking at work. These are not good coping mechanisms. You need to see someone before you slip more. Do you want to lose your job?”
Pushing away from the car, Lilly stood nose to nose with Dana.
“Stay out of it. I’m fine. What do I need to talk to anyone for? To get some pity for what happened? I’ll figure it out.”
She turned from Dana and stumbled several steps before righting herself. Luther waited for her at the ER entrance, chart in hand.
“I’ll call someone about your window.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
“There’s some guy waiting for you.”
“A patient?” Lilly asked.
“Yeah, he requested you. He’s been waiting for a couple of hours according to the night nurses.”
“You know we don’t like people to do that. It sets a bad precedent. I’m not their primary doctor. Nor do I want to be.”
Luther shrugged. “What can I tell you? Two other docs tried to see him, and he refused.”
“Fine, I’ll take it.” She threw her coat and purse over the nearest chair. Was it a dare for someone else to get her keys and finish her off?
The exam room was close. Lilly hovered in the hall and scanned over the medical information. Odd. Date of birth was listed as 00/00/0000. Sex: Male. Complaint: “Message Delivery.”
A psych case. Great.
She entered the room and closed the door behind her. The man sat on the rolling stool. His clothes were without defect. Seams were pressed into his trousers. She perused her own attire. Her white lab coat resembled a smoothed-out wad of wrinkled paper, having been pulled from her clothes hamper moments before she left the house. His chocolate-brown camel hair coat was folded neatly and laid over his legs. Black polished shoes reflected the overhead lights. His hands lay folded, fingers not intertwined, on top of the garment. His eyes held hers as she stood waiting for him to give up the stool.
His emerald eyes held hers as she stood waiting for him to give up the stool.
She glanced at the chart again, more to gather herself than to refresh her mind of the information.
What little there was of it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to pronounce your name. What language is this? You speak English?”
“You can call me Gabe, and I think that answers your second question.”
“But not the first,” she quipped.
“Ah, that’s true. But the story might be long for you.”
“I’m Dr.—”
“Lilly Reeves. Yes, I know. I’ve been waiting for you.”
He stood and rolled the seat her way, then took another chair as she placed herself near the low-set counter to document. Settling in, she crossed her legs and placed the chart down on the desk. She pushed herself back against the wall.
“Do I know you?”
“No, we’ve never met.”
“Are you wearing contacts? I want to see your real eyes.”
“These are my real eyes. I don’t have one blue and one brown. Isn’t that what you really want to see?”
“Are you with the police? It was my understanding that that particular piece of information was being held from the public.”
“You’re correct. It’s not public information and no, I’m not with the police.”
Lilly struggled to keep her nerves in check.
“Then you must know my rapist. How else would you know that?”
He pulled his chair forward, scraping the metal legs against the white linoleum floor, leaving scuff marks behind. The emergency call button was not within her reach.
“Some things are known other ways,” he replied.
“So you’re a psychic then?” Lilly pressed her back into the corner.
“I don’t want you to be afraid.” He inched his chair closer to hers. Reaching his hand out, he placed it over her clenched ones.
The sense of utter calm that washed over her was like diving into a pool of perfectly warmed water and being able to stay under without fighting for breath. It was a vision of deep sleep and blissful dreams. Of hope—fear vanished. Her thoughts crystallized.
“If you’re not a psychic, then what are you?”
“I’m a messenger.”
“From whom?”
“I’m not sure you’re ready to know yet.”
“Why pose as a patient?”
“I don’t think you would have seen me any other way. You are being pursued. But not just by evil.” He pulled his hand away from hers. “There’s a story I want to share with you that I think will help you make some decisions in the months to come.”
He paused and refolded his coat, continuing before Lilly could find a reason to object.
“Many years ago, there was a family who lived in a wooded area near a river. They had a small boy, who was frail and sick. Because of this, he was never allowed out of the house. As he grew in years, he longed for the outdoors. One rainy night he left his home and began to wander. It wasn’t long before he was lost because the rain and darkness had obscured his way. He made it to the river but couldn’t find the trail back home. He began to run, panicked that he was lost. He stumbled and fell into the water.”
“You came here to tell me a child’s fairy tale?”
Ignoring her, he continued on.
“Because of his sickness, he didn’t have the strength to pull himself out. The water was cold and running fast. He realized he was dying. Two arms came underneath him and pulled him from the current. There was a fire near the bank, and he was laid there for several hours until he became coherent. When he awoke, he saw a woman sitting not far away.”
“The boy sat up and asked, ‘Who are you? Are you the angel of death come to take me to heaven?’ The woman smiled at him and neared. ‘You must pay very close attention to me. You see the light in the distance. That is your home. You must leave here and go back and never wander in the woods at night alone again.’ The small boy nodded his assurance at her warning. ‘You’ve not told me who you are,’ he asked again. She smiled down on him. ‘For you, dear boy, I am the angel of life.’ And with those words she was gone.”
Lilly gave a few sullen claps. “You waited two hours to tell me a lame story. I should place an involuntary hold on you just for that.”
“Any thoughts as to who that boy might be?”
“A guessing game? Honestly, why would I care who the boy is?”
“That boy grew up and had a very eventful life. He was Adolf Hitler.”
Lilly felt uneasiness settle in her stomach.
“Is this true?” she asked.
The man neared her. “The story illustrates how things are not always clear in the beginning. For it was the angel of death that visited this small boy, because of what she knew he would become. Life for him meant death for millions. The opposite can also be true. Sometimes, things that we believe should be given death, should be granted life instead.” Nearing her more, he leaned forward, placing one arm around her in an embrace, the other over her chest. “There is a life you will have to decide this for. You must remember this story.”
Unmoving, she waited.
“Lilly, there is another thing I need you to do. Please, allow Kadin to pray over you.”
Through the haze of suddenly heavy eyes, Lilly watched him leave the room.
K
ADIN’S MORNING ROUNDS
had been interrupted by a distress page from Dana to meet him in the ER. Shortly into her shift, Lilly had been discovered unconscious in an exam room by Luther. Since Dana had been aware of her distress that morning and Lilly didn’t have any close family, Luther had paged Dana.
The CT of her head was negative. Spinal tap negative. Lab work pointed to a viral infection. Once Lilly proved to be mentally intact for Dr. Anderson, Dana had convinced him to discharge Lilly under her care. For logistical help getting Lilly home, Dana had called Kadin.
Lilly’s townhouse was in disarray. On the floor and strewn over chairs, clothes lay as lifeless victims in every open space. The smell of stale grease from old food containers was heavy in the air, and Kadin felt it coat his skin each inch he progressed forward. He stepped over several empty liquor bottles, readjusting Lilly in his arms. Dana was in front of him, trying to clear a path to the stairs.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, switching Lilly to an over-the-shoulder fireman’s carry to make it up the narrow staircase.
“I think we need to get her in the bath. Her fever is sky high again, probably why she’s so out of it. Plus, it doesn’t look like she’s bathed in weeks.”
Dana opened the door to Lilly’s bedroom. They both paused, taking in the pristine room. The air was clear, with a faint hint of roses. It seemed the same as the day they had presented it to her newly decorated.
“Where do you think she’s sleeping?” Dana asked.
Kadin stepped past her, easing Lilly onto the bed. She moaned as her head lolled off to the side.
“Not in here.” Kadin stretched his arms, attempting to wring out the fatigue. “You get her undressed, and I’ll get the bath ready. I’ll see if I can find some Tylenol for the fever.”
Closing the door behind him, he stepped across the hall to Lilly’s bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, he was stunned to find it empty. He latched the mirrored door back in place and turned, pulling the shower curtain from the tub. He ran the water until it was tepid under his fingers and pushed the plug down for the drain. Seated on the edge of the tub, he waited for the water to fill as his mind searched for a course of action.
What could he do to possibly help Lilly? His ceaseless prayers for her sanity were drawing a silent response. Lilly seemed impervious to all of their interventions. She shoved them away the harder they tried to assist, seemingly bent on her own destruction, or at least relentless in her resolve to fix things her own way.
He felt like she was dying, a frail leaf ready to fall at the slightest hint of a breeze.
Yet she seemed to be surviving in hurricane-force winds.
For now.
Maybe it was her spirit, the life within her, that was fading.
He turned the water off and returned to the bedroom. Dana had changed her into a bathing suit. She turned to Kadin as he approached.
“I figured she wouldn’t want you to see her naked.”
“I can’t find any Tylenol up here. I’ll help you get her into the bath and start cleaning up downstairs.”
“I think I should have her done in a half hour. You can help me get her back to bed. We’ll start some IV fluids.”
Kadin reached for Lilly’s arm and lifted her onto his shoulder.
“How high do you think the fever is?”
“High.”
“You’re sure all the labs were negative? This seems more than just the flu.”
“They did a spinal tap, Kadin. Everything looked good. White count and inflammatory markers point to a viral process. It is flu season. We’ll keep an eye on her.”
In the bathroom, he moved her off his shoulder and cradled her thinning body. She was beginning to look like a third-world orphan with scrawny limbs and a protruding abdomen.
“Is she even eating?” Kadin asked. Dana shrugged. Kneeling, he eased her into the water. The soft flow of the cool liquid over Lilly’s skin didn’t register with her. He stood, grabbing a nearby towel to dry his arms.
“You sure you’re going to be all right? She’s like dead weight.”
“Don’t worry.” She smiled, placing a hand on his arm and pushing him out of the bathroom, “I might be small, but I pack a lot of strength.” She closed the door, inches from his nose.
Kadin returned to the main level. He entered the kitchen and retrieved several plastic trash bags. He set himself to work, first gathering up the dirty laundry. Sorting it into several piles on the main-floor laundry, he searched the cabinets over the washer and dryer for detergent. He found her supply, plus several boxes of gun ammunition. After starting a load, he returned to the living area and gathered up the myriad of empty fast-food containers. He placed all the empty liquor bottles on the table. Sherry and white wine were her favorite choices. He tried to remember the last time he came to check on her.
How much was she drinking in a day?
He pulled the seat cushions from the couch. In addition to food crumbs and wrappers were several empty prescription bottles.
He found ten.
Valium. Ambien. Xanax. All prescribed by Walter Henry, MD.
He’d have to ask Dana about him.
He worried over the combination. Alcohol and sleeping pills were a desirable lure for struggling souls to curb their depression and anxiety.
Meet Lilly’s friends: pain, sleeplessness, and despair.
He wondered which plagued her the most. Likely, all three.
After setting the garbage near the front door, he grabbed the vacuum and set to cleaning. Dusting followed. He was in search of the glass cleaner in the laundry room when he heard Dana’s steps in the kitchen.
“Bachelorhood has taught you some good lessons,” she mused, holding a plastic case in her hands.
“What’s that?”
“One of her guns. It was under a pillow on her bed. I didn’t want to leave it up there and have her surprise us with it. I know for sure she has two. I don’t know where the other one is. I think I’ll take this one home with me, but you can probably take the ammo and put it with the rest.”
He took it from her hands and placed it in the cabinet.
“Good thinking. Hopefully, she won’t feel she needs to find the other one. Is she still in the bath?”
“No. She was a little more coherent and able to make it back to her room. She’s dry and all tucked in. I have her IV started and fluids going. Find any Tylenol?”
“I found a lot of meds; nothing as innocuous as Tylenol, though.”
“Great.”
“Do you know Dr. Walter Henry?”
“I know a David Henry. He was a good friend of Lilly’s in med school. I think he had some formal name that he didn’t like to go by.”
“What’s his specialty?”
“Podiatry.”
“Well, Lilly’s friend the foot doctor has been loading her up with benzos and a whole lot of other things. And she seems to prefer them with alcohol.”
“I figured as much when I saw her this morning. Let’s see if there’s anything I can make for dinner.”
“Do you think it’s too late for her?” Kadin asked.
Dana paused and turned to him, holding a box of pancake mix.
“In what sense?”
“In every sense. Physically, she’s wasting to nothing. She’s got a pouched-out belly like those malnourished kids get. Professionally, she’s throwing away her career. Spiritually desolate. I’ve tried getting her to come to church with me. She refuses every time. I pray but get no clear direction.”
Kadin’s heart sank when he saw Dana’s tears. He grabbed a tissue from the kitchen table and handed it to her. His short tirade seemed to be drawing from her well of fear. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose louder than any man. Kadin couldn’t keep from laughing.
“What?”
“Sorry, that nose blowing. Quite a feat.”
“You can’t say all those horrible things about Lilly and then make me smile.” Dana took a seat at the table. “Yes, I’m worried. However, I think our prayers are working.”
“How?”
“What I know is that God is always working around us. He doesn’t just work within the walls of a denomination. Sometimes, I think we feel if we can get unbelievers through the church doors, the church will do the rest and our obligation is met. It’s obvious Lilly has great resistance to anything structured. We need to watch for where God is working around her. Show her grace. Be there as much as she allows. Don’t abandon her. Honestly, I think that’s what she’s trying to do. Make us disown her.”
“Because then it will prove we are no better than those in her life who didn’t believe. Upstairs, did she talk to you much?” Kadin asked.
“It was hard to make out. I didn’t know if she was relaying what happened this morning, or if she was still delirious.” Dana paused and looked at him. “I gave her some IV Toradol though. The fever shouldn’t be an issue.” She returned to rummaging through the cabinets.
“What was she saying?”
“She said someone named Gabe came to see her and told a fairy tale about Hitler. That’s all she remembers.”
“Do you think it could have been him? Tormenting her?”
“Today was about spiritual warfare. We easily forget that there is a real battle going on for the souls of each person, and there have been instances in the Bible where prayer has helped. Consider the book of Daniel and how prayer aided the angel Gabriel.”
“You think the visitor she had today was an angel?”
Dana shrugged at the suggestion. “I don’t know. But I don’t think it was her rapist.” She closed several cabinet doors. “Listen, there’s not much here. I’ll run out and get something. You feel okay to go up and check on her?”
“Sure.”
Dana grabbed her purse and keys and made a quick exit. Kadin went upstairs. He opened Lilly’s door with caution after his soft knock brought only quiet response. It was nice to see her peaceful, in a sense. He pulled a rocking chair up next to her bed. He was unsure how long he sat there, silently praying for help, for a way to comfort her that would bring solace instead of anger.
“All of this praying. Have you gotten any answers?”
He looked up, relieved to see her blue eyes with a hint of life renewed. He reached for her slowly, placing the back of his hand against her cheek. He felt the coolness of her flesh before she eased away. He dropped his hand back into his lap.
“I’m not sure.”
She tightened the covers up around her shoulders.
“Why keep doing it?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about prayer and God’s response to it. It brought to mind a passage from the Bible about a man named Lazarus. He was terribly ill, and his sisters, Mary and Martha, sent word for Jesus to come. They knew he could heal the sick. However, after he received their urgent request, he waited two days before traveling. By the time he got to Bethany, Lazarus was dead and had been buried four days. His sisters were distraught, angry that Jesus hadn’t come to the aid of a good friend. He essentially said no.”
“That story doesn’t seem to be very faith affirming,” she replied. Kadin picked up a glass of juice from her bedside table and offered it to her. She seemed to consider it, eventually waving it away.
“At the time, it was known that Jesus could heal the sick. He’d already done so on a number of occasions. I believe Jesus said no to Mary and Martha because he wanted to show them something more amazing. Something no one had ever seen. On that visit, he raised Lazarus from the dead. After saying no in the beginning, he showed them in the end what his plan was. Something more amazing than anyone could possibly have imagined.” Kadin smoothed Lilly’s covers, thankful she didn’t edge away. “I think that’s why I’m not hearing God’s voice now. For you, he has something amazing planned, something that I could never imagine.”
