Prophet (63 page)

Shannon couldn’t hold back her tears at this point. She wept, pulling out a tissue to wipe her eyes and nose. And she was angry with herself for crying.

Deanne put her hand on Shannon’s shoulder and spoke earnestly. “No, now don’t you mind it. If you don’t cry you’ll break. You go ahead.”

Shannon continued even though her voice was shaking and she spoke an octave higher. “And Hillary was so frightened . . . She just wanted to run, to get out of that place . . . She said . . . I remember her saying, ‘This is Hell—why do I have to go through this?’ . . . And I kept telling her to just be brave, just go through it, and then everything will be all right, it’ll all be over . . .” She blew her nose, tried to gather herself, and then pressed on. “And then her turn came, and the lady—I don’t know if she was a nurse or just a counselor or what—came and
got her and took her through the big door, and the door closed, and . . . and I didn’t know what they were going to do to her. I didn’t know they were going to kill her . . .”

“No, honey, of course you didn’t.”

Shannon pulled herself together somewhat, at least enough to continue in a normal octave, though still shakily.

“And it didn’t take long at all. I think it was maybe a half hour later, the lady—the same lady—came into the waiting room and told me to drive around to the back door to pick up Hillary—she was ready to leave. So I got the car and drove around to the back door, and they brought her out . . . the counselor lady and then some other assistant, one on each side of her to help her walk . . . and they said she should lie down in the backseat, so she did, and she had some birth control pills they gave her, and some instructions to follow . . .” She dug through her bag. “I’ve got those somewhere . . .” She leafed through a folder and pulled out a green sheet of paper, somewhat wrinkled, with text photocopied on both sides. Deanne received it from her and looked it over. At the top was the name and address of the clinic and then the title, “Post-operative Instructions.”

“The lady gave me that copy so I could help Hillary remember what to do. Hillary was so . . . she was just . . . I can’t describe it. She just lay there in pain, just real sick . . . and it was like . . . like she was already gone, like she’d already died. She just wasn’t the same, and she just kept saying, ‘Take me home, just get me home.’ And the lady told us to watch the bleeding, that it would stop after a while, but we had to keep a fresh pad on it. She said to get Hillary home and get her to bed and everything would be okay, so I started driving her home, but the bleeding just got worse, and we had to stop and change her pads and . . .” Shannon buried her face in her hands. She spoke through them, her voice muffled. “And the blood was everywhere . . .”

MAX HAD TAKEN
a casual walk around the campus and now was returning to Balen Commons. He reached the top of the knoll where the big oak tree stood and from there could see Deanne and Shannon sitting together some distance away. It was obvious they were in the middle of something very intense. Deanne had her arm around Shannon,
and Shannon appeared to be crying. It looked like he’d be taking another lap around the campus, which was okay with him. This was why they flew out here, to find out—Hold on.

Max moved quickly behind the oak tree and tried to look casual as he carefully peered around it.

Who was that sitting over there, that guy with the newspaper? He was close, not more than forty feet away, sitting on the edge of one of the big bronze sculptures, just flipping through the newspaper and trying to look casual. He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, nothing remarkable, but his face was easy enough to see.

And Max remembered that face very well. He’d had a close look at it moments before he planted his ham-sized fist right into it and knocked the guy down.

That guy was at the rally! Yeah! He was one of those guys who started the big fight at the governor’s rally!

And he was watching Deanne and Shannon!

Max didn’t notice, but his hand had turned into a dangerous, tight fist as he stood there behind the tree.

Shannon sat up straight, wiping her eyes and nose, and pressed on as steadily as she could. “I got her home, and the rest of the family was away. We knew they would be. The governor had some kind of speaking engagement, and Mrs. Slater and Hayley and Hyatt went with him, and they weren’t supposed to be back until that evening. We thought we could just get the abortion done and Hillary would be okay and no one would know the difference. That was the plan, but it didn’t work.

“I remember how weak she was . . . just dragging. I could hardly get her up the stairs to her room. And by then I was getting scared, and I said maybe we should call somebody, but Hillary kept begging me not to, not to let anybody know, not to call anybody. She said she’d be okay, and so we just kept soaking up the blood and changing the pads and . . . and it just wouldn’t stop!

“Finally I called the clinic, but the line was busy, and I called again, and the line was still busy . . . and Hillary just kept bleeding and getting worse and worse. She started sweating and gasping for air, and I called again, and somebody finally answered, and I told them the bleeding just wouldn’t stop, and . . . and that woman didn’t know what to tell me! She asked, ‘Well, are you following the instructions on the green
sheet?’ and I said sure, but there was nothing on the instructions about this much bleeding, and then she said, ‘Well, if it doesn’t stop by tomorrow morning, give us a call,’ and she acted like she didn’t want to talk, like she didn’t have time, and . . . I think she was just putting me off, she didn’t want to talk to me, she was too busy. And she just hung up.

“And then I looked at Hillary, and she was starting to turn blue, and she wouldn’t respond to me anymore. She was fading. So I couldn’t wait any longer. I called 911 and got help, and . . . and then the governor came home. I saw the headlights in the driveway and heard the garage door opening, and . . .”

Shannon paused, looking out across the commons. “I . . . I think this is where I went wrong, where all this other trouble started, because I panicked and ran out the back door. I just dropped the phone and got out of there. I thought Hillary would be okay because I called 911 and they were going to send somebody . . . but I was scared. I didn’t want to be there when the governor came in and saw Hillary and all the blood and found out . . . I didn’t know what he’d do.

“So I ran to my car . . . We’d shuffled cars around. I’d driven over to Hillary’s and then we both rode in her car to school and then back to her house from the clinic. We were trying to keep everything secret, you know? So my car was parked a few blocks away, and I ran and got in my car and drove home, and my folks weren’t home yet, which was a good thing because I know they would have seen something was wrong. But by the time they got home the word was getting around, and they’d already heard that Hillary had been taken to the hospital, and then they told me and . . . from then on I didn’t have to hide how upset I was, I could just flow with it because everybody was upset.

“So . . . when Hillary died I just came apart, and my mom and dad felt real sorry for me, and they were great, but . . . I never told them what really happened. I never said a word, even after the governor told my dad that story about Hillary taking his pills by mistake . . . even after it came out on the news.

“And you know, for a while I wasn’t really sure. I thought maybe that really was what caused it. Maybe Hillary was taking those pills and then had the abortion and then had the bleeding because of the pills, but . . . I know she wasn’t having her period. I mean, she was pregnant!—so
why would she be taking pills for menstrual cramps? And why would she get into her father’s pills in the first place? She had her own bottle of pills in her room and she knew what they looked like. She wasn’t stupid.

“But then the governor came to see me. He came over to the house to have a private little talk with me, to give me some comfort, you know, and my folks were really glad he was being so thoughtful. But you know what? He came to make sure I wasn’t going to say anything. I don’t know how he figured out I knew anything about it. I didn’t ask, and . . . you know, neither one of us said anything directly about it. He just said things like, ‘We both loved Hillary very much, and we wouldn’t want anyone to know things about her that are private and her own business.’ And then he told me, ‘I believe in privacy, so I’m not going to ask any personal questions, not about you, and not about Hillary.’ And then he said, ‘But I’d like you to do me a favor, a very big favor, and that is, please respect Hillary’s privacy and reputation, and keep this as something only you and Hillary shared.’”

Shannon laughed a small, derisive laugh. “Something only I and Hillary shared. He made it sound so honorable, so virtuous, like I was doing my best friend a favor as only a best friend can do.

“And you know, it took me a while to figure out what he was really doing. I wasn’t going to tell anyone anyway, but then he came and gave me his big ‘privacy’ pitch, and then, just a few days after that, his number two man, Martin Devin, called me and told me I’d been chosen to receive the first scholarship and that I could go to Midwestern if I wanted, all expenses paid, and . . .” She shook her head incredulously. “And I still didn’t get it. I accepted the scholarship and enrolled at the university, and I had this big idea in my head that I was going in Hillary’s memory, and I thought that was so great, but . . . I always had an inkling that the governor had his own agenda in mind, and now I’m convinced of it.”

She got a sudden thought that wasn’t in her notes. “And you know what else convinces me? He took Hayley and Hyatt out of the Adam Bryant School right after all this, and it was close to the end of the school year! Nobody really knew why, but it all makes sense to me now. The school sent Hillary to that clinic to have an abortion behind her father’s back, and he couldn’t stand that. Hayley and Hyatt are going
to a Catholic school now—surprise, surprise! Governor Slater talks all about privacy, privacy, privacy, but when it happens to his own kids, watch out!

“Anyway, I get a call from this Martin Devin character almost every week, and he’s getting to be a real pest. He just keeps calling to make sure I’m okay and make sure I know they’re still watching me, still making sure I keep quiet. Well, last time I told him the press wanted to talk to me and I just might talk to them, and I told him he could have the money back, that I was sick of the whole thing.” Shannon heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, and did that ever feel good! He got real upset, but I felt great. Now I know what I’m going to do, and . . . Well, a lot of people aren’t going to like it, I know, but I have to do it anyway. I can’t carry this anymore.”

Deanne put her arm around Shannon and pulled her close.

Shannon returned the embrace, and they remained that way for a moment, just savoring the closeness and kinship that had formed between them in such a short time. Their stories, their pains, and their fears were so very much the same, and now each woman had found in the other a beautiful answer to her need.

MAX DIDN’T WANT
to leave the Commons in case the guy from the rally decided to slip away or, worse yet, attack Deanne and Shannon. He kept an eye on the character with the newspaper, but then managed to catch the attention of a passing student.

“Hey kid!” he almost whispered, beckoning to the young man.

The young man stopped, a little curious, a little suspicious. “Yeah?”

“You got police around here?”

The young man smelled trouble. He was interested.

“Campus police?”

“Yeah,
any
police!”

“Sure.”

“Call ’em. Get me one . . . right now!”

CHAPTER 27

NIGHT FELL OVER
the Midwestern University campus, and with the loss of the sun the temperature dropped to that crawling, autumn kind of cold that settles into the pockets and valleys like clouds of dry ice and turns the edges of the leaves and grass frosty-white by morning. The between-class bustle and rush of the daytime was now an intermittent trickle of students, most wearing warm coats, crossing the campus to attend libraries, late classes, cultural events, and political meetings. Now the amber floodlights came on to illumine the main walkways and malls, and the shadows beneath the trees and behind the thick shrubbery became ink-black.