The Last Hour (12 page)

If he could see and hear me, that meant he had enough troubles of his own.

I did say one thing, though. “You know, when we find your mom, she probably won’t be able to see you, right?”

“I don’t get it,” he said.
 

As we stepped off the elevator, I stopped and kneeled down so we were face to face, and I said, “It’s like this. Um ... you know how when you dream, sometimes you go all over the place?”

He nodded, and said, “One time I dreamed I was on Mars.”

Sarah chimed in, “I had a dream I was a ballerina. Thank
God
I woke up from that one.”

I grinned. “Anyway ... when you dreamed you were on Mars, did your body go anywhere?”

He shook his head.
 

“Right. Well ... people who are awake can only see your body. But right now ... all three of us are really sick. And it’s almost like we’re having a dream, and we’re hanging out and talking baseball while the doctors try to make us better.”

“My mom said that’s what it was like when Grandpa went to heaven.”

I winced. “Well, kid, this isn’t heaven. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s not that. For one thing, you’re gonna wake up in your body.”

Daniel looked scared, and he said, “You’re sure?”

I put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Yeah. I’m sure. Right now, let’s go find out what’s going on with you. Maybe we can find a ball around here somewhere and toss it around, too. What do you say?”

He grinned and said, “I throw a mean fastball.”

“Yeah?” I stood, and started walking toward the emergency room. “You ever thought about going pro?”

“Um ... I’m eight?”

I laughed. I liked this kid.
 

The emergency room was in chaos, so we wandered from one area to another looking for his mom and dad. But they were nowhere to be found.
 

“You can hang with us for now,” Sarah said, trying to cheer him up. I looked at the boy nervously. We had plenty of problems, and people to worry about, and I didn’t want to be away from Carrie a moment longer than I had to be. But the kid was scared out of his mind, and he had no idea where his parents were, and I didn’t either.

The clock on the wall of the waiting room said 3:15. Had things gone as expected, we’d probably have been finished at the zoo by now. Four hours of relaxation. Four hours to bask in Ray’s company, which I’d had little enough of lately. Four hours to turn an entire life upside down.

Just a few weeks ago, I’d thought our lives were falling apart. But I’d had no idea what that really meant, had I?

Other than Alexandra and the doctors and nurses, I hadn’t spoken with anyone. I certainly hadn’t bothered to contact the Army and notify them of the accident. So I was shocked ... no, utterly stunned, when Major Janice Smalls walked into the waiting room.

A tall woman, with deep hued skin so dark it was almost blue, Major Smalls was a kind, thoughtful woman who I absolutely detested. She wore her Army combat uniform and boots, but carried a briefcase. The moment she walked into the room, I felt every muscle in my back tighten, and I sat up straight, irrationally sure she was here to drag him out of the operating room and back into the clutches of the Army.
 

Jessica noticed the sudden tension and sat up beside me.

I stood up, trying to contain my anger, but it was hard. I shook, and my fists curled at my side. I’m not usually a confrontational person. But she might force my hand into an exception.

She walked straight to me, set her briefcase on the floor and put both hands out, gently touching both of my arms in a show of mock concern. “Carrie. I’m so sorry about the accident. Why didn’t you call me?”

Her tone made me want to vomit. I stared at her and swallowed, trying to keep my teeth from gritting. Finally, I said, “I’ve had other things on my mind.”

She blinked then said, “How is he? All I know is there was an accident ... the hospital notified the Army as a routine matter.”

Routine. Yes, I understood it was routine. But it still made me angry. It made me angry that the Army had invaded our life so much that even this, even an accident, was routine to be put on paper, shuffled through their systems with the proper notifications. I wanted to scream. Instead I said, “He’s in pretty serious condition.”

She nodded, looking sympathetic. I knew it was irrational to hate her. She had only done what she had to do. But I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was selfish of me. But it didn’t have to happen the way it did.
 

She asked, “Have the police been by to question you yet?”

The police? I looked at her, confused. “No ... is there any reason to expect them to?”

Her expression froze. “I just assumed, after an accident this serious.”

I shook my head. “No. Maybe you’re right.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“We were on our way to the zoo, and a jeep ran a red light and hit us on the driver’s side. It all happened really fast.”

“I see. I’m relieved to see you’re all right. When may I speak with him?”

I tried to answer. I really did. I said, “Right now I don’t know ... I don’t know when ... if…” and then I was crying again. It made me furious that I let down my guard in front of this woman, that I showed any form of weakness in front of her at all. I bit back the tears and said, “He’s in emergency surgery right now. We’ll know more later. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my sister.”

I turned, and half stumbled back to my seat, then sat back down next to Jessica and took her hand in mine.
 

Major Smalls stood there for a few seconds, and then apparently decided she’d heard enough for now. She turned and walked out of the waiting room.

“E
xcuse me ... Mrs. Sherman?”

It took a second to realize the doctor was talking to me. First, because I’d begun to drift off to sleep in my seat, and second, because no one called me that. Maybe three or five seconds after the voice spoke, it sank in that
Mrs. Sherman
was me. My eyes snapped open and I was on my feet.

“Yes?” I said.
 

“Doctor Peterson ... we met earlier.”

“Yes. How is Sarah? And Ray?”

“I wanted to let you know, Sarah is out of surgery. She’s being moved to the intensive care unit right now, but she’s stabilized.”

I felt as if I’d been hit with a sudden wave of drugs, the relief washed over me in a wave that could have carried me right out of the hospital. “And ... her leg?”

He nodded. “At this time, we think we can keep it under control with the fasciotomy. There’s a strong chance she’ll keep her leg. But it will be a long road to recovery.”

“When can I see her?”

“Once she’s settled into intensive care. You need to understand ... the wounds in her leg from the fasciotomy ... they’ll have to be kept open, potentially as long as three or four days. You’ll at least be able to visit later, but it’s going to be touch and go for a while ... there’s significant risk of liver failure, infection and other problems.”

“Is she awake?”

“No. It’s highly unlikely she’ll wake up before tomorrow morning, and we don’t even know then.”

By this time Jessica was standing next to me. She took my hand and squeezed it. And then Jessica said, “If she needs anything ... at all … I’m her twin.”

The doctor gave a tired smile, and reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Fraternal? Well … at this time there’s really no need. But I can assure you, young lady ... your twin is in good hands. Some of the best surgeons in the country operated on her.”

My stomach twisted as I spoke the next words. “And ... Ray? Any news?”

Doctor Peterson sighed. “We’ve had some complications. He’s still going to be in surgery for some time. At this point … we’re doing the best we can. Now, have the two of you had any rest or gotten anything to eat? Right now the best thing you can do is make sure you take care of yourselves.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Not ready to go anywhere yet, but thanks.”

“Well then,” Peterson said uncomfortably. “Try to get some rest. I don’t anticipate him coming out of surgery for some hours yet.”

I nodded. It was too much. I felt ... numb. Empty. And angry. Angry that any of this was happening. Angry that Ray and my sister were in danger, angry that he’d been called back in the Army in the first place, angry that our lives had been derailed so far off what I’d wanted or expected.
 

And that was when I heard a voice out in the hall, a familiar voice. Angry, his tone deep and full of rage. “What the hell are you doing here? You better not be harassing Carrie, Major.”

Oh, my God. That was Dylan. I barely heard her quiet response, then he said in a near shout, “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

I walked toward the door, just as I heard my sister say, “Dylan, calm down. Let’s just ignore her, all right?”

“No,” he said, “not until she goes somewhere else. I won’t have her stalking outside the door!”

By that time, I got to the door and saw them. Alexandra immediately saw me and quickly left Dylan’s side and threw her arms around me.

I was horrified by what happened next. I’m not a weepy person. I don’t fall apart. I don’t go into hysterics. But right then, feeling my sister throwing her arms around me ... I just cut loose, my knees suddenly sagging. I felt her stagger under me, then lift me up and we were headed back into the waiting room. A moment later, Dylan and Alexandra were both supporting me and walking me back into the waiting room.

That set off another bout of crying. Jesus, I couldn’t get a grip on myself. Alexandra held my hands and let me fall apart, while Dylan went over to Jessica and without a word lifted her out of her seat and wrapped her in a huge bear hug. After a few minutes I got my crying under control again, and Alexandra sat down next to me, still holding my hand.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be,” she replied. “It’s okay.”

I sniffed, and Alexandra passed me a tissue. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get myself under control again.
 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Alexandra asked.

I nodded, told them about the accident, and what we knew so far. Dylan, now sitting down next to Jessica, winced when I told them Ray’s prognosis. They had been friends for a long time, and had gone through basic training together well before their deployment to Afghanistan. He reached out and took my hand, and squeezed it gently.
 

“How are you hanging in there?” he asked.

“I ... I don’t know. None of this seems real.”

I rubbed my face, then said, “I guess Mom and Dad are probably flying out too?”

Alexandra said, “They’ll be here soon. And Julia and Andrea, too.”

I looked up, meeting her green eyes. “Andrea? She hasn’t been in the States in almost two years.”

Alexandra nodded. “Yeah, I know. Julia and Crank chartered a flight apparently, and stopped in Spain to pick her up.”

“Don’t they have shows scheduled?”

“Cancelled for the next week.”

Dylan leaned forward and said, “I still haven’t met Andrea. Why hasn’t she been home?”

My eyes flew to Alexandra’s. I think both of us had the same question in our mind. Andrea had spent the last three school years in Spain with our grandmother, and neither of us knew why. I did know one thing. As much as I’d tried to protect my sisters, as much as I’d tried to take care of them, I’d failed with her. And it killed me that I didn’t know why.

Alexandra shook her head. “I don’t really know why, Dylan. It’s ... complicated.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m ... honestly shocked she’s coming now. And that Julia and Crank cancelled their show. They didn’t have to do that.”

Alexandra gave me a puzzled look. “Of course they did. We’re family.”

I took a deep breath, and said, “I think I need to get something to eat. I’m starting to get shaky. I’m just ... I’m afraid to leave.”

Jessica leaned forward and said, “You go, I’ll call Alexandra if there’s any news.” She looked at Dylan and Alexandra. “Both of you go with her. I’ll be fine here.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

Jessica gave me an impatient look. “Honestly, I could use some alone time.”

“All right,” Dylan said. “Call us if there’s any news at all.” His face was strained as he spoke, and I could feel the tension radiating off of him. The last time I’d seen him this pent up was the day after Ray got called up again.

I stood and immediately felt lightheaded. Dylan walked over to the nurses’ station, presumably to tell them we were going to get something to eat, and the three of us walked out of the waiting room. Only to run into Major Smalls out in the hallway, where she stood talking on a cell phone. Dylan frowned at her and kept walking, his limp barely noticeable now, eighteen months after his injury in Afghanistan. He was so different than when we’d first met, the summer after Alexandra’s junior year in high school. That summer he’d taken a bus all the way across the United States to see her. Earnest, quiet, a little haunted, he’d seemed like a kid.