Saying Goodbye, Part One (Passports and Promises Book 1) (17 page)

“The ambulance is on its way, and we’ll meet you at the hospital. How is he?”

I stared at Dylan. His breath came out in short, little puffs. I checked his pulse. At first, I couldn’t even find it. I put my ear to his chest and heard the beat of his heart, but it seemed slower than usual and not quite as steady.

“He’s breathing, but it’s quick and shallow and his heart beat seems slow. What’s the matter with him?”

Mr. Hunter spoke next, his voice calm and reassuring. “Sam. Can you go to his medicine cabinet and tell me what you see?”

“I’m afraid to leave him…”

“It’s important, sweetheart.”

I stumbled to the bathroom and gasped. His medicine cabinet was completely empty.

“There is nothing in here. No bottles, no medicine, nothing.”

Mrs. Hunter started crying. I heard her soft sobs. They had me on speakerphone.

Mr. Hunter’s voice shook. “Look around. Can you find anything?”

“I don’t know…” I pulled open drawers and cupboards. I lifted dirty towels and clothes off the floor. Finally, I opened the lid to the garbage. It was full to the brim. “They’re in the garbage, but I don’t see any pills. Did he overdose?”

I ran back to Dylan’s side. He looked so still and thin and pale. I touched him to reassure myself he was still breathing.

“I don’t think he took the pills. I think he flushed them. He didn’t like how they made him feel. He’s done this before.”

I rested my forehead against Dylan’s clammy one. “Why? They made him better. He told me. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Mental illness isn’t logical. Dylan understood that, but he couldn’t…” Mr. Hunter struggled to compose himself. “It’s harder than you think.”

I heard the whine of the ambulance outside. “It’s here. The ambulance is here. I hear it.”

“Thank you for staying with him,” said Mrs. Hunter, her voice thick with tears.

The phone was still on, but I put it down on the coffee table so I could hold Dylan in my arms. “Don’t worry, Dylan. Help is on the way. They’re almost here. You’re going to be okay.”

I held him until the EMTs arrived. They seemed to know his history and didn’t ask me too many questions. They asked about the medications he took, so I grabbed the garbage can from the bathroom and brought it out to them. The EMTs had obviously seen a lot, but even they seemed shocked by the amount of medicine prescribed to him. I held Dylan’s cold hand as they brought him out to the ambulance, and then climbed inside to sit next to him. The ride to the hospital took only minutes, but Dylan looked even worse in the bright lights inside the ambulance. His skin pulled tightly against his cheekbones and his color was awful. He looked like a corpse. It was hard to believe only a few weeks ago he’d made me picnic lunches and kissed me in the sunshine. He’d turned into the shell of the boy he’d once been.

I held it together until we got to the hospital and the doctors whisked Dylan away. I sat on a hard plastic chair alone and watched as the nurses rushed in and out, speaking in hushed voices. It wasn’t until Mr. and Mrs. Hunter walked in and I saw their faces that I dissolved into a shaking heap and nearly collapsed.

Mrs. Hunter gathered me into a hug. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

That was nearly my undoing. I shook my head. “I should have checked on him sooner. I should have known something was wrong.”

She shushed me. “There is no way you could have known. Dylan is a master at disguising it. He even had us fooled this time.”

She went to talk to the doctor with Mr. Hunter. I sat on my chair and waited, hugging my arms tightly around my waist, still shaking. A nurse brought me a blanket and asked if I was okay. I didn’t know how to answer that question.

Suddenly, my throat closed up and I couldn’t inhale. I looked up at the nurse as panic spread through my chest, trembling as I gasped for air. I thought I was going to die, and the panic made my lungs tighten even more.

The nurse reacted very calmly. She sat down next to me, made me put my face between my knees, and gently patted my back. She talked me through it, reassuring me that soon everything would be okay. She promised I would be able to breathe normally as soon as I relaxed, and I believed her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the agonizing pain eased and I calmed down. As soon as it happened, as soon as the first sweet breath of air filled my lungs, I started to sob.

“What was that?” I asked. “I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die.”

“Just a little anxiety attack,” she said. “Understandable, considering the circumstances.”

“That’s never happened to me before.”

“It’s especially scary the first time,” she said softly. “Sometimes just worrying about the possibility of one happening is enough to trigger it. You have to try to stay calm and breathe your way through it.”

“Thank you for helping me.”

She smiled. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Much later, Mr. Hunter emerged from Dylan’s room. He looked about ten years older than he had when he went in.

He sank into the chair next to me. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked.

“I hope so.”

“Is this how it was last time?”

He looked at me, his face tired. “He told you about last year?”

I nodded. “He said it was bad.”

“It was. There were a few times I really thought we were going to lose him, but somehow he pulled through. This time is a little different, though. It seems like it’s progressed more quickly.”

“But he’ll just take his medicine and he’ll be fine, right?”

“If only it were that simple. The brain is a tricky thing, Sam. We just can’t know for sure what will happen.”

Mr. Hunter drove me home. I wanted to take a cab, but he insisted. Mrs. Hunter stayed with Dylan, and Mr. Hunter told me over and over again how grateful they were I’d found Dylan and called them right away.

“You may have saved his life. We’re forever in your debt, young lady.”

I stepped out of his car, feeling like a total fraud. I didn’t save his life. I was the reason he was messed up in the first place.

I called Bethany, and she and Gabriela came over right away. We sat in my room and I sobbed as I told them everything. About Dylan. About Max. All of it.

They held me and patted my back and made soothing noises until I calmed down. Then Bethany spoke.

“You can’t blame yourself.”

I looked up at her, my eyes swollen from crying. “Then who is to blame?”

I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose, hiccupping with residual tears. I was even more horrible than I’d thought. I was a slut and almost a murderer.

Bethany took my hand. “If Dylan had cancer, would it be your fault?”

“Uh, no, but this isn’t cancer.”

“It’s a disease. You didn’t cause it. You didn’t make it worse.”

“Sorry, but I don’t buy that. This happened two weeks to the day after we broke up.”

“He broke up with
you
, Sam,” said Gabriela softly.

“I pushed him into it. I didn’t love him.” This brought a fresh rush of tears. “And he knew it. He figured it out that night. What if he saw that video of me with Max? I made him do this.”

“Did you make him drink? Did you make him smoke pot? Did you make him throw away his medicine?” Bethany stared at me, demanding a response.

I frowned. “I hurt him. Badly.”

“Maybe, but you didn’t cause any of this. It started long before you even knew him.”

They stayed with me that night. They pulled out the futon I kept rolled up under my bed and slept on the floor next to me. I tossed and turned all night, waiting to hear from Mrs. Hunter, but terrified she might call with bad news. I finally gave up and called her at around seven in the morning. I had to know what was going on.

“Sam?”

“I’m sorry to call so early…”

“It’s fine. We were just getting some coffee.”

“How is he?”

“About the same.”

“Can I come and visit him today?”

There was a long pause. “Dylan spoke with us last night. Just a little. He said he didn’t want you to come.”

“Oh.” My heart sank down to my toes and tears pricked behind my eyes, threatening to fall.

“He doesn’t want you to see him like this.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Can you keep in touch and let me know how he’s doing?”

“I will. After they get him stabilized, he’ll be transferred to a facility a little closer to our house. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

“When will they move him?”

“Tomorrow, or maybe the day after.”

I hung up the phone and leaned against the wall. As much as Mrs. Hunter tried to spare me from the truth, I knew exactly what was going on. Dylan didn’t want to see me. I didn’t blame him.

I punched in Max’s number and when he answered he sounded half asleep. I told him what happened and he snapped into full consciousness.

“It’s not your fault, Sam.”

“Yeah. Everybody keeps telling me that, but I’m having a little trouble believing it.”

“He’s had problems for a long time.”

“But he was doing better, and now he’s worse.” I let out a shaky breath. “He doesn’t want me to go to the hospital. Can you and Greg go? It might help him if his friends were there.”

“We’ll go in a few hours, as soon as the hospital allows visitors.”

I went back to my bed and curled up into a ball. Gabriela and Bethany were still sound asleep on the floor. I played out every memory I had of Dylan in my mind, trying to figure out what I could have done differently, where I went wrong. There was a lot.

I’d been selfish to get involved with him in the first place. I played into the fantasy that we might have a future together when I knew it probably would never happen. I dated him for all the wrong reasons. Because I was bored. Because he was handsome. Because he made me feel special.

I should never have told him I loved him until it was true.

It was never about him. It was all about me: my desires and my insecurities. I’d used him in the worst way possible, and I hated myself for it.

After Gabriela and Bethany left, I decided to clean my room, starting at the door and moving in a clockwise direction. As I gathered my backpack off the floor, a bunch of notecards fell out of the side pockets. My kanji
cards. I’d made them with Hana ages ago.

I put them neatly into a pile, and then noticed two cards had fallen off to the side and were stuck in the corner of my chair. I picked them up, and when I saw what was on the cards, my knees gave out and I sank down to the floor.

The first card was the kanji for
shi,
number four. One of the first ones I’d ever learned. The other was harder, more advanced. More intricate, and more difficult to write, but it sounded exactly the same. The second was
shi
as in
shinderu.
Death.

I heard Dr. Tanaka’s words as soft as a whisper in my head. She’d told me number four was unlucky. I should have listened.

Number four means death.

I picked up my cell phone with a shaking hand and called Max. He and Greg were about to leave for the hospital.

“I’m coming with you,” I said, and then hung up the phone.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

M
y shoes squeaked as I walked down the long hallway to Dylan’s room. I’d never been in a psych ward before, and my gaze shot back and forth, trying to take everything in while trying not to stare. Elderly patients, sick with Alzheimer’s, sat in wheelchairs talking with people who probably no longer existed. Young people with vacant eyes and drool hanging from their lips stared at me as I walked past. I tripped, eliciting a sharp bark of laughter from one of the Alzheimer’s patients.

When I told the Hunters I wanted to see him, they’d reluctantly agreed. They met us in the lobby, looking older and more tired than I remembered. Jake stood off to the side, his hands shoved into his pockets. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. I saw the accusation in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I had to come. I had to see him.”

Mrs. Hunter pulled me into a hug. “We’re glad you’re here, Sam. I think it’ll be a good thing for him to see you. I want to warn you about something, though. He might not wake up. Even if his eyes are open, it’ll probably seem like he’s not looking at you. Like he’s….somewhere far away.”

I thought about her words as I walked down that hallway. Max and Greg stayed with the Hunters. I was half scared and half relieved. As much as I didn’t want to do this alone, having Max by my side could make things worse. It might be just the thing to push Dylan right over the edge. I took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly.

The nurse leading me to Dylan’s room gave me a little smile. Her badge said, “Nurse Candy.”

“Is it your first time here, honey?”

I nodded, feeling an unexpected tightness in my throat. “My boyfriend…I mean my ex-boyfriend…” My eyes filled with tears and I wiped them away with the back of my hand. “He’s here.”

Nurse Candy’s dark eyes were kind. Her hair, a complicated maze of salt and pepper braids piled high on her head, made her seem almost regal; like the braids were a crown and she was the queen. That almost made me giggle. The Queen of the Crazy Floor. She gave me a sympathetic look.

“Are you here for him or for you? It’s better to know that before you go in.”

I frowned, thinking about it. “I’m here for both of us.”

She nodded, and I hoped I’d given her the right answer. She gave a gentle rap on the door before opening it for me.

“Mr. Hunter. You have a visitor.”

I thought I’d prepared myself. I thought I knew what Dylan would look like, but it ended up being so much worse than I ever expected. I actually gasped when I saw him, and I wobbled a bit. Nurse Candy must have realized what was happening. She grabbed a chair and plopped me down in it.

“Are you okay, little girl?”

I nodded, trying to stop my teeth from chattering. I struggled to hold myself together as I reached for Dylan’s frail hand.

He was wasting away. Disappearing right in front of my eyes. His skin looked so thin I saw delicate blue veins just beneath the surface, and he was as pale as the white sheet covering his narrow frame. His cheeks were sunken in, his dark hair dull and lifeless under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room. I reached up to brush a few strands off his forehead with a shaking hand. His eyelids fluttered open, but he didn’t look at me. He stared up at the ceiling.

“Dylan. I’m here. It’s Sam.”

Nurse Candy quietly stepped out the room, but I knew she hovered just outside the door. I understood why. Dylan looked like a hospice patient, like he was dying of some horrible, incurable disease.

Number four means death
.

Dylan was my number four, and now he looked like he was dying. As much as everyone told me not to blame myself, I knew the truth. I’d done this to him.

Dylan continued to stare up at the ceiling, so I took his cold hand in mine and just started talking. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. I didn’t know how bad things were getting. I didn’t understand.”

I took a long, shaky breath. “I’ll be leaving for Japan soon, but I wanted you to know I’m not giving up on you, and you can’t give up either. You have to keep fighting.” I leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “You’re going to get better, and when you do, I’ll be here for you. I will help you get through this. I mean it.”

He gave my hand the barest squeeze and I gasped in surprise. Nurse Candy peeked in to find out what had happened.

“He squeezed my hand.”

Nurse Candy gave me a pat on my shoulder, her eyes on Dylan’s immobile and unresponsive form. “It could be. Who knows what’s going on in his head right now? Who knows how much he’s aware of? Some days patients like Mr. Hunter here manage to say a few words. Other days…well…they aren’t as good. But I would say squeezing your hand is a good sign indeed.”

She tucked the sheet around his body. He had on blue cotton pajamas, which made me smile. He hadn’t chosen those pajamas. The Dylan I knew slept in his boxers or nude. Blue cotton pajamas were not an option.

I stood up to kiss his cold forehead. “Come back to me, Dylan. Please. If you do, I promise I’ll come back to you, too.”

I whispered the words, knowing I’d just made a vow. One I couldn’t break. One I’d never forget. Then I walked out the door and down the long, silent hallway alone.