Whale Song (18 page)

Nana showed up at the hospital the next day and she wisely took me away from all the machines and chaos. We bundled up warmly, strolled across the street to a park and sat at a picnic table under the trees near a small fountain. Seagulls squawked nearby, fighting greedily over scraps of food someone had left behind.

“Mom’s not going to wake up, Nana,” I said anxiously.

She nodded. “Yes,
Hai Nai Yu
. The Great Spirit is ready to take her home.” She took both my hands in hers. “It is time, little one. Time to let her go so that her spirit can fly free. You have to be willing to release her. Or she’ll be trapped between both worlds.”

“But, Nana,” I moaned. “I don’t want her to go.”

I lowered my head to the table and tears began to flow. I was lost in a world of pain and suffering, yet all around me was life. I heard children laughing, birds singing and the fountain bubbling.

And I resented them all.

“
Have I told you about
Seagull and the Coming of Light
?” Nana asked, her frail hand stroking my hair.

I shook my head against the table.

“The Great Spirit gave the First People small, carved cedar boxes,” she began. “One filled with water that rose to the sky and formed clouds. The clouds emptied onto the ground and created streams and rivers. Another box held all the mountains and another held the seeds of every growing thing. The next box held the wind, which blew the seeds and scattered them throughout the Earth. They all opened their boxes. Everyone, that is, except Seagull.”

I raised my head slowly. “How come he didn’t open his?”

“Seagull wasn’t ready to give up his box. He wanted to keep it all to himself. He held his box tightly, refusing to open it. And in his box, he held all the light of the world. And that is why, in the beginning, there was only darkness.”

She paused and we watched a lone seagull cautiously waddle toward us. It stopped from time to time and cocked its head to one side, staring at us.

“
So what happened, Nana?” I asked, eyeing the bird.

“Well, the First People asked Raven to talk to Seagull. But when Seagull still refused, Raven wished that a thorn would pierce Seagull’s foot. And because whatever Raven wished came true, Seagull found a thorn in his foot. Raven offered to help him, to pull out the thorn, but instead of pulling it out Raven pushed the thorn in farther. Then he said, ‘If only I had some light to see.’ And do you know what Seagull did?”

“He opened his box.”

“Yes,
Hai Nai Yu
. He opened his box just a bit and the Stars fell out and lit up the sky. Then Raven pushed the thorn in even farther and told Seagull there still wasn’t enough light. And Seagull opened his box some more and the Moon floated up to the sky. One last time Raven pushed in the thorn and Seagull cried out, dropping his box, which opened and released the Sun. And so it came to pass that there
was
light.” She paused when the seagull near our table let out a shrill cry and flew away. Then she added, “Seagull learned a valuable lesson that day.”

“
What?”

“
He learned that sometimes holding onto things only brought suffering.” Her eyes fixed on mine and I shivered.

I thought about Seagull all day.

When my father and I returned to the motel, I shared Nana’s story with him. Afterward, he tucked me in, kissed my forehead and wearily climbed into his bed.

“
Goodnight, Sarah,” he called from the dark.

I stared up at the ceiling and listened to the unfamiliar sounds around me. I heard rowdy voices outside, followed by thunderous footsteps that clanged up the iron staircase. A car drove past―squealing its tires―and its headlights illuminated our room for a moment.

I held my breath, my pulse quickening.

As I clutched my pillow, darkness engulfed me and I slept. I dreamt of Seagull and Raven. And my mother. I walked with her and held her hand. Even in my dream, I understood that I must find the courage to let go.

Release her or she will be trapped between both worlds…

My mother passed away peacefully on November 29, 1979, less than four weeks from Christmas. But it was the way that she died that permanently altered my life.

Nonno Rocco and Nonna Sofia had gone for a walk outside, leaving my father and me to visit with my mother. When Dr. Michaels arrived, my father asked her to step into the hall.

Overwhelmed by curiosity, I pressed my ear against the door.

“
We have to leave her on life support,” I heard Dr. Michaels say. “I know that’s not what she wanted, but as long as there’s brain activity, it’s my obligation to keep her alive. I hope you understand that. You can go to the courthouse and file a petition to have her removed―”

“
But that could take months,” my father argued. “Years.”

He grew more insistent and I heard Dr. Michaels ask him to lower his voice. Their indistinct whispers frustrated me. Then I heard them moving closer and I backed away from the door. When they entered the room, my father looked very upset.

“
I’m sorry, Mr. Richardson,” Dr. Michaels said, checking the monitors. “But I have no other choice.” She left the room.

My father heaved a sigh of frustration. The respirator that breathed for my mother imitated him.
Puff…puff.

“
Dad?” I said, shifting in the chair. “I, uh…overheard you talking to Mom the other night.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What about?”

“
I know what she asked you to do.”

I saw his face crumble before me, shocked. His head dropped into his hands and a shudder moved up his spine. Slowly, he raised his eyes and studied my mother’s immobile body as the machines pumped life into her.

“
Sarah,” he sighed, shaking his head sluggishly.

I remembered my mother’s words to him.
Sometimes you have to do what’s wrong…to make things right…I can’t bear for you or Sarah to see me lying there―like a vegetable.

I glared at him, angry and betrayed.

Time stood still. Frozen.

Fear held us captive. We were caught in an emotional tug-of-war. My father battled with his conscience while I fought to convince him to set her free.

This is where my world collides―where my memory ends.

I vaguely recall the sound of a door slamming. I must have left the room. The next thing I remember is seeing my father by my mother’s bed, holding her hand. In the other, he firmly gripped the unplugged end of the respirator. The monitors were silent, their buttons turned off.

“
Sarah!” he shouted in a hoarse voice, his blue eyes piercing me where I stood.

Uttering a cry of horror, I raced from the hospital room and ran down the hallway. I twisted down one corridor and turned down the next until I was lost. I had no idea where I was going. I just needed to escape.
Run, Sarah!

I collided into a familiar body.

“
Hai Nai Yu
, what’s wrong?”

I looked into Nana’s eyes, silently pleading for help. Then a merciful darkness encompassed me and I felt myself plunging into its shadowy embrace.
Take me away…

Sarah!

I heard my mother whispering to me and felt her lips caress my forehead. I smiled. Then I cautiously opened my eyes. There was no sign of her. The room I was in wasn’t familiar either. I looked around and realized that I was in the hospital, lying in one of the beds.

That confused me. I wasn’t the one who was sick.

Nana sat in a nearby chair.

“
Hai Nai Yu
?”

Her gaze was intense and she frowned when she touched my forehead. “You’re too warm.”

“
Nana, what happened? Why am I here?”

She muttered something under her breath. “Do you not remember, child?”

I shook my head.

“
Your mother has gone to the Great Spirit. She’s on her way home.”

I shook my head in denial and clamped my eyes shut. But the truth hit me with the finality of a door slamming shut.

My mother was dead.

“
What happened in her room?” Nana rasped.

I shook my head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“
Did your father―?” She broke off as footsteps approached.

The door opened abruptly and my grandparents rushed into the room, their faces fearful and pale.

“
Sarah!” Nonna Sofia cried. “Are you okay?”

Nana stood slowly, nodded to my grandparents and slipped from the room. Nonno Rocco moved closer to my bed. His beard was thick and white, and it looked as if he had slept in his clothes.

“
What happened?” he asked me.

“
I don’t know.”

I recalled being in my mother’s hospital room and then…nothing. Until I woke up.

Nonna Sofia shook her head sadly. “We just want to know why your father did what he did. We know it had to have been an accident, even though the police are questioning him.”

“
The p-police?” I stammered. “What do you mean? What did he do?”

My grandparents exchanged anxious looks.

I tried to force myself to remember, but everything was so hazy. The only thing I understood with absolute certainty was that my mother was gone. I would never see or talk to her again.

“
I want my dad!” I wailed.

Nonno Rocco enveloped me in his arms and I smelled the comforting scent of his cologne.

“
Your papa…” he said slowly. “He cannot come here now. He has to…explain what happened.”

“
I’m sure he’ll be here later,” Nonna Sofia added.

My grandfather shot her a warning look.

“
Well, he will,” she said, crossing her arms defiantly.

I slept for the remainder of the afternoon. At some point during the day, my subconscious collected and stored precious tidbits of information. My grandparents and Nana must have been talking while I slept.

“
They’re calling it a suicide.”

“
The police…murder.”

“
Jack might go to prison.”

My father had been found beside my mother, holding her lifeless hands in his. He had disobeyed the doctor’s orders and had shut down all the monitors and shoved them against the wall. When the alarms rang, a crash cart was pushed into the room and attempts were made to revive my mother. But they were too late to save her.

Dr. Michaels had no choice but to call security and have my father quarantined. When the police arrived, they escorted him out of the hospital and questioned him relentlessly for over an hour.

“
They even searched him,” Nonno Rocco said as I drifted in and out of sleep. “The police wouldn’t let anyone into Daniella’s room after they pronounced her dead―not even the doctors. They’re taking her to the Coroner’s Office. My
bella figlia
!”

Through a haze of half-sleep, I heard Nonna Sofia. “Rocco, our beautiful
carina
is gone to the angels. What has Jack done?”

Her keening wail broke my heart.

Merciful sleep rescued me from hearing anything more.

Dr. Michaels came to see me after supper.

“
You have hysterical amnesia, Sarah,” she said. “It’s common after a traumatic event like…this. But luckily it’s only partial amnesia.”

She was right about that. I remembered everything before she left my mother’s room and everything since waking up in the hospital. But I was missing a section of time in between.

Dr. Michaels told my grandparents and Nana that I had to remain in the hospital overnight and that she would locate someone near Bamfield to help me regain my memory.

“
Sarah’s memory will return,” Nana said, nodding. “It’ll return on its own when she is good and ready to remember.”

The following afternoon, an attendant wheeled me down the hall in a squeaky wheelchair. He pushed me to an awaiting taxi where my grandparents and Nana were exchanging a few words.

“
I’m going home now,” Nana said, kissing me goodbye.

My grandparents and I took the taxi to a motel.

“
We have to go to the police station tomorrow morning,” my grandfather said as he tucked me into bed.

I was surprised and a bit scared. “Why?”

“
They want to talk to you, ask you a few questions.”