Siobhan's Beat (2 page)

Dusk turned swiftly to night and rain descended in a gentle drizzle, coating the curves of the road with a shimmering layer of moisture. By increasing degrees, rain transformed into snow. Siobhan smiled, hunching deeper into her coat. Perfect night to indulge in hot tea and some of her mom's leftover homemade stew.

A piano riff alerted her to an incoming call from Aileen. She didn't have a hands-free device…she hardly knew the ins and outs of her so-called smart phone. She engaged the call and tapped the speaker function so she could drive and talk at the same time.

“Greetings, girlie.” Siobhan flipped a wave of blonde hair over her shoulder. “I thought you'd be at dinner with my brother by now.”

“Pull over. Seriously. Please, pull over.” Not even cellular distortion could hide Aileen's excitement.

Baffled, Siobhan began scouting potential spots to stop. “Ah…”

“Have you pulled over? Are you stopped?”

Aileen behaved like a runaway locomotive, which meant something big was brewing. “OK, Bossy Brewer. I'm almost there. Hang with me a sec—”

“I'm
so
serious right now. I do
not
want you driving off a cliff when I tell you what's happened. It's amazing! It's incredible! It's the best, and you're going to flip!”

Intrigued by Aileen's unbridled enthusiasm, Siobhan navigated to the shoulder of the road and parked. A stand of trees stood sentinel to the right, a guardrail and slight drop-off rested in deeper shadow to the left. Nothing stretched ahead except curving roadway and the night to come.

“I'm as safe as can be. Even my seatbelt is still in place. Now fill me in.” A commotion took place. Siobhan could have sworn she heard Maeve Callahan's voice in the background, and deep, male laughter. Was that Liam? “What on earth is going on, Ailee?”

“Oh…I can't tell you everything. I want to tell you everything, but I won't. I just
can't
! I need to see you live and in person!” Aileen bubbled. “Please, sweetie, just get to my apartment as fast as you can! There's big news, huge news, on multiple levels. I'll tell you this—we landed the recording contract—but that's not even the half of it, and I won't be able to properly rejoice until you get here, do you hear me?”

Siobhan's heart lifted in syncopation to the joy she detected in Aileen's voice. “Good Lord above, Aileen, you win! I'm turning around and heading to you as soon as I hang up.”

“Perfect! I can't wait! Love you!”

“Back to you doubled. See you in a few.”

Laughing, Siobhan ended the call and engaged her car, pulling ahead to a spot where she executed a smooth turnabout that would lead her back to downtown Westerville. Traffic was no problem—by now, most folks were hunkered in for the night, enjoying dinner or some relaxing down time while the winter season began its inevitable push forward.

A recording contract. Obviously, they had scored the deal—excitement lit Siobhan's nerves. She drummed her fingertips against the padded steering wheel. What else could be going on, though?

The lights of downtown loomed just ahead as she navigated a sharp curve leading downhill. The roads were slickened by freezing rain and a gloss of snow. Belatedly Siobhan realized she had unconsciously accelerated…eager to see her friends and partake in whatever celebration brewed.

Cursing herself for distraction, she gently tapped the brakes, grateful for empty roads, but instead of slowing, the car began to fishtail, careening toward the guardrail that protected traffic from a steep drop off.

Siobhan's world went into slow motion as terror took hold. On one level, time went into suspense. On another, the universe slid into super-speed. The guardrail she tried desperately to avoid swerved in and out of view as she fought to regain control of her vehicle. Thrown into panic, heart pounding, she overcompensated, and instead of tapping the breaks, she laid on them with both feet and braced, praying desperately. Squealing tires, a horrific spin and an acrid aroma overwhelmed her senses at once. Metal crunched against metal, more jarring, crashing…

“Jesus, please!”

The words lifted from her lips at the same instant a body jarring slam caused her car to bounce, the door to collapse inward against her left arm and leg. Siobhan's body bucked, and pulled, and snapped against the restraint of her belt, stealing her breath until she didn't even have the power left to scream.

And scream was all she wanted to do. Her chest burned; glass shattered with such power it promptly embedded in her hair, stinging against her cheeks, her arms. Cold air whooshed and a spasm of pain flooded her body in a sweep so powerful, so final, that her entire world faded to black.

 

****

 

In the dream, she danced.

Fresh from performing a solo piece, drained yet thoroughly exhilarated, Siobhan guzzled cold water from an uncapped bottle. Her chest heaved and her heart pumped. Never did she feel more alive than in these moments, when her love of music, rhythm and motion swirled together, blending into a seamless display that not only roused the audience to cheers and ovations, but lifted her spirit to Heaven itself.

This, she knew, was the thrill of following and trusting God's call.

Basking in a glow stirred by exertion and joy, she tucked from view in the wings of the Westerville Theater. A costume attendant dashed forward, handing Siobhan a towel, which was promptly utilized to pat away traces of perspiration from her bare arms, her neck, and shoulders. Aiding that effort, Siobhan stood near a fan where she absorbed a few moments of cool air. Meanwhile, a makeup artist stepped to the fore and went to work on a quick refresher, dabbing her face with powder, brushing on a fresh layer of blush.

While exerted muscles relaxed, Siobhan closed her eyes and automatically accepted the ministrations, continuing to recover following an intense performance segment. Inwardly, however, she already ticked off the minutes until her next entry cue, until the stage, the audience and the music would bring her to life once again.

Through it all, she watched her three dearest friends move across the stage. Their powerful voices combined into a sweet, rich harmony, stirring goose bumps along Siobhan's arms. She peeked discreetly into the house, noticing the crowd was enthralled. Siobhan offered up a small, three-word prayer that filled her heart and soul to overflowing:
Thank you, God.

“Siobhan, are you ready for the next number?”

Her smile to the technician spread wide and fast. “Always!”

Following a scripted bit of repartee between Aileen, Kassidy, and Maeve, the lilt of a piano filled the air. The song “Holy One” began, which was a duet performed by Kassidy and Maeve accompanied by Siobhan's dance moves during the instrumental and bridge sections.

Siobhan exited the wings on cue, swirling into a series of light, airy spins….

And her world dissolved.

Pain ricocheted through her body, hot, sharp, and completely unexpected—completely enveloping. She gasped and cried out. Her legs buckled. Toppling onto worn, wooden floorboards, Siobhan screamed. The stage, her friends, her joy, evaporated into a black void that swirled with white, with gray, with a blinding, piercing red that flooded her mind and soul.

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. Suddenly she heard voices all around, soft and beckoning, laden with concern. The voices called, loving and tender in tone, yet indiscernible. Where did they come from? What was happening?

Gripped by horror, Siobhan remained trapped within an unforgiving vortex that sucked relentlessly against every cell in her debilitated body.

“Siobhan? Siobhan, honey, please, hear me.”

Siobhan tried to cry out to Aileen Brewer when she heard her best friend's voice. Cottony dryness stuffed her mouth, robbed her of the ability to speak.

“You're almost there. We're all here for you. We're waiting. Come back to us.”

Liam. Now she heard the voice of her big brother Liam. He was on the other side of this thick, wretched wall—but he sounded so scared, and that was unheard of when it came to her solid-as-a-rock sibling.

Siobhan struggled through a dense white fog. Pain kept trying to overwhelm and suck her back down, but she fought with all the strength she possessed. She lifted toward the voices of the ones she loved.

She couldn't wait to wake up and leave this nightmare behind.

 

 

 

 

2

 

Doctor AJ Cooper prepared to enter the hospital suite, but what he saw and heard from the threshold held him in place. Sometimes the best thing a doctor could do was observe circumstance, absorb nuance.

“This can't possibly be real. This can't be happening. Not after everything we've been through.”

A tall, softly curved woman with long brunette hair was the one who spoke. Distraught, she shivered and wept openly. Her head rested upon the shoulder of a dark-haired man AJ already knew to be his patient's brother. The woman's voice was hoarse and raspy and she was instantly joined by two other girls as well as Siobhan Douglas's parents. The family gathered around the bedside causing his gaze to auto-track toward the small-framed, petite woman stretched out on the gurney and covered by a light layer of blankets.

Fresh from the ER, AJ's patient rested within a chemically aided sleep from which she would soon awaken. The already fair-skinned blonde was pale to the point of translucence. Her left arm was sprained, so it sported a heavy bandage and had been made immobile. Her left leg was stabilized by a cast and rested on a foam elevation pillow positioned across the foot of the bed. This woman bore the delicate looks of an angel; Coop only hoped she possessed a huge measure of fighting strength as well, because she faced an arduous road to recovery.

As that thought dawned, Liam Douglas tapped shoulders and began a chain reaction until everyone in the room stood hand-in-hand. He even clasped Siobhan's uninjured hand then looked deliberately into the faces of each of those present. “God is with us.” The words resounded, firm and forthright. “God is with us, no matter what. That's our belief, right?”

The group nodded in unison, but Coop sensed a quiet resignation as well. His brows pulled, his study intensified.

“We need to make a decision here and now,” Liam continued. “Are we ready to live that truth? Are we going to give God the head of this nightmare so He can work His will?”

The woman who tucked next to Liam lifted her chin. “You're right. God hasn't led Siobhan this far to forsake her.”

“Let's pray for her. Let's give her…and all of this…to God.” That from a woman of brunette features with determination and love scripted across every line of her features. Once again, AJ intended to enter the suite but held back out of respect for the way their heads bowed and they murmured words of protection, entreaty, and guidance from God.

“Liam…Liam…? Mom? Dad? I'm in
so
much pain…so dizzy…don't feel good…”

Siobhan came to, gasping the words; she writhed and moaned. With swift footsteps, AJ crossed the threshold, his hand-held computer already cued to her chart. He needed to keep her still and calm. It was time to administer a round of pain and anti-nausea meds and begin an initial consult with the family.

“Good evening, everyone. I'm Doctor Cooper. I'm the orthopedic surgeon heading up Miss Douglas's case. Give me a moment with our patient then I'll be happy to bring you up to date.”

He didn't wait for a reaction; he wanted to see to Siobhan's comfort because she roused quickly and pain was set to override everything else. Even now, she shifted and bucked as if trying to find comfort, but the movement caused him concern when it came to her carefully stabilized broken leg. He stopped at the intravenous patient-controlled analgesia unit and immediately pressed a button to dispense a dose of tramadol that would act quickly against pain receptors.

He rested a hand against Siobhan's arm, looking straight into her wide, frightened eyes. “I've just given you a round of pain medication, and you should feel the effects quickly.” He looked away just long enough to indicate the IV unit. “You're on saline for now, to keep you hydrated, but your IV is also connected to what we call a PCA. PCA is the easier way of describing a patient operated pain control unit.”

“Accident. I was in an accident. I…”

AJ increased the gentle, calming pressure on her arm. “You're OK, Miss Douglas. You need to rest.” He could see her pulse jump against a slender, creamy neck. She licked her lips, tossing her head as she fought to clear away one fog of anesthesia as yet another crested in. Tramadol worked fast—she wouldn't be awake for long.

Family members gathered around the bed while AJ explained how the unit functioned and the ways in which Siobhan would control her medication via pre-timed doses. Siobhan listened, he noticed, but she was still terrified. Not surprising, considering the magnitude of what her body had just endured.

Gradually, she relaxed, her eyes fluttering closed as the pain medication took hold and she drifted back to sleep.

Only then did AJ address those in the room. “If you'll come with me, I'd like to take you to a conference room where we can be a bit more comfortable. We can discuss the next steps in her recovery.”

“That would be wonderful, doctor, and we appreciate it. Thank you.”

Despite exhaustion following an intense shift at Westerville Memorial Hospital, AJ smiled at the older woman who looked at him with such open gratitude. This was his patient's mother, he recalled—the stalwart, beefy man at her side was Siobhan's father. These folks wanted the assurance of a battle plan; AJ intended to provide just that.

He led the way along a wide, bustling hallway. He lived and breathed the ortho-surg area of WMH, but when he caught sight of the dazed, intimidated expressions worn by those who accompanied him, AJ slowed and took the time to see his world through their eyes. Staff members moved with brisk purpose; patients were transported on gurneys and wheelchairs while others made their way with walkers and assistance from volunteers and therapists. The environment sang with carefully orchestrated crisis containment, high-energy battles to restore health and normalcy as quickly as possible.