the Forgotten Man (2005) (35 page)

She said, "Where is he?"

Pike nodded toward the door.

Lucy blew past him into the room. Pike watched Starkey as Lucy went to the bed. The edgy light in Starkey's face dulled, and her energy, it seemed to Pike, faded. Starkey stepped away from the bed to make room for Lucy, and Pike resumed his place at the foot of the bed.

Lucy took Cole's hand in hers. Her eyes filled, and the tears showered onto the sheets.

She said, "You better not die on me. You better not. Do you hear me, Elvis Cole? You -"

Lucy heaved with a terrible sob, and she gasped as she cried.

Cole's eyes fluttered. His left eye opened more than his right.

"Luce?"

Lucy cried harder, but now her face broke into a smile.

Cole's rolling eyes focused.

"Luce -"

"Yes, baby. I'm here. I'm here. You come back to me now. You come back."

Starkey hacked away. Pike saw her watch Lucy, then turn her eyes to the floor. After a while, Starkey left to stand in the hall. Pike considered the meaning, but would not leave Cole's side. He patted Cole's leg.

"Elvis."

Cole looked at him.

Pike said, "I'm the one who's supposed to get shot."

Cole managed a smile, then slipped back into sleep.

Pike stayed. Every day visitors came and left, but Pike remained at the hospital. He stayed at the hospital nonstop for twelve days before taking a break, and, then, he left only because they were sure his friend was past the worst of it; Elvis Cole was with them, again; he would live.

PART FIVE

The Forgiven Man Chapter 62

I said, "Here is good."Pike eased the rental car to the side of the gravel road under the lush canopy of a beautiful willow tree.

"You know where it is?"

"Over there somewhere. I can find it."

Pike had flown with me back to the place she lies buried. I still had trouble walking, and didn't trust myself to drive. I would rather have come alone, but having Pike's company was good.

Pike said, "You want me to come with you?"

"No, you wait. I won't be long."

I had to use a cane, and my side stitched with sharp pains when I moved. The therapists warned me the pain would linger for months, and might never completely leave, so I had made peace with it.

My grandparents and my mother were buried near each other at the rear of the grounds. My aunt had died in an auto accident fifteen years earlier, and was buried outside Chicago where she had lived with her husband. I had two cousins, but I never saw them. I had not been to my mother's grave since the day she was buried.

I found the little black rectangle and stared down at her name. The stone was dirty and weathered, but green grass softened its edges and made it look better than it was. No one was left to put flowers. Probably no one had put flowers since my aunt moved away. It hurt to bend, but I bent anyway, and placed the roses on her name.

I said, "Hi, Mama."

My eyes filled, and I cried for a while. I felt bad that I never came to see her, and bad that I had blamed her for so much over the years, because now it all seemed selfish and cruel. Her sickness was a sad thing, and beyond anyone's measure. Her only true crime was giving me a dream, and I had resented her for it. My true crimes were greater. Like the pain in my side, some things simply need to be accepted, and overcome.

I limped back to the car, and tried to make myself comfortable. It wasn't easy.

"Okay. I'm done."

"You good?"

"Yeah. We had a nice talk."

Pike and I drove back to the airport, and returned to Los Angeles the same day.

It was good to be home.

This file was created with BookDesigner program [email protected] 2/15/2008

LRS to LRF parser v.0.9; Mikhail Sharonov, 2006; msh-tools.com/ebook/

Table of Contents

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE