Chapter Fifteen

As soon as Isaac had fallen back to sleep, Nora crawled off to the room where doctors who had to spend nights on call slept and crashed, not opening her eyes until hours had passed. She�d been too tired to dream; if she hadn�t been, she would have had nightmares. She would have nightmares, later.

When Nora opened her eyes though, she felt refreshed, finally able to think clearly. Her first thought was that someone might have paged her and she had slept through it; the idea sent a chill down her spine. Even though there were no new messages on her beeper, her adrenalin was already pumping. She climbed out of bed and sneered at herself in the mirror. . . she looked awful. There were sleep-wrinkles indented in her left cheek, her curly hair standing straight out from her head in a wild afro. Nora bundled it all back into a sloppy ponytail, wishing she could go home and take a shower. More than anything else in the world she wanted to change her clothes, but settled on a fresh pair of scrubs she snitched from a supply closet after darting down to the emergency room to grab a t-shirt out of her locker. Suddenly alive with energy, Nora bounded up the empty stairwell that led to the floor where the ICU was located, knowing she�d never have the patience to wait for an elevator.

�He�s awake,� the nurse on duty informed Nora, when she stopped at the front desk to see how Isaac was doing. �Or he has been, on and off for the past few hours whenever the medication starts wearing off.�

�He�s really heavily medicated,� Nora inferred, knowing the answer but wanting to confirm it anyway.

The nurse nodded. �Yeah, we�re trying to keep him from. . .� she bit her lip, �feeling to much.� Her eyes met Nora�s, their thoughts mirroring one another�s.

Nobody knew what Isaac would do as soon as he was coherent enough to remember what happened. . . and if he was unable to remember what had happened, someone would have had to explain it to him. So far, if he knew his mother had stabbed him, he hadn�t said anything about it. It was better to keep him on morphine, Nora knew the nurses were thinking, than to let him relive whatever had happened last night. She swallowed. She wasn�t sure whether she agreed with that or not, but he was still in enough pain to justify the medication. Anyway, if he could go a few days without being alert enough to think about anything, they might as well let him.

�Is there anything else I should know about?� Nora asked.

The nurse flipped through Isaac�s chart and shook her head. �No, there hasn�t really been anything,� she observed. �He�s been pretty stable.�

�Well, that�s good.� Nora managed a smile, but her worry was building up again.

The nurse nodded. �Yeah, he hasn�t had any complications so far.� She took a deep breath. �We can probably move him down to pediatrics tomorrow.�

Nora couldn�t hide her relief. �As early as that?�

The nurse smiled. �Yeah, things aren�t looking too bad.� She shook her head. �It�s going to take awhile, though. . .�

Nora nodded, swallowing. �I know. Thanks.� She sighed as she turned and headed for the room Isaac was in. It was going to take awhile for him to get better. . . his internal injuries made this way more complicated than a �basic� stabbing. She wished, again, that he�d said something to her before.

Isaac was awake, but by no means alert. The medication deadened his senses to the point that he didn�t even feel connected to his body anymore. He could hardly see straight, the world blurring into a haze of lights and darks. He didn�t feel like moving. . . one misstep and he�d change the order of the entire universe.

His throat still hurt from the breathing tube; words felt strange in his mouth anyway. They didn�t seem to mean anything anymore. Thoughts and sentences reordered themselves inside his head in a way he knew wasn�t right, but he didn�t know how he knew that.

At the same time, it was kind of funny to know exactly what you meant and find yourself unable to say it. Or, Isaac thought, maybe it was funny. He thought he might be laughing, but he wasn�t really sure. And why would he be laughing if it wasn�t funny? That wouldn�t make any sense.

Then again, not much was making sense. And all this thinking was giving him a headache. Maybe he just wouldn�t think about anything.

That thought was even funnier. Which was why Isaac was grinning hugely as Nora came into the room.

She raised her eyebrows. �Ike?�

He blinked a few times, not saying anything. He�s probably too out of it to know anyone�s here, Nora thought, pulling a chair up next to the bed. �Hi, honey,� she said, in case he could comprehend her meaning, on some level. �I�m sorry it took me so long to come back.�

Isaac squinted at her. �He didn�t come back with you, did he?�

�Who?� Nora asked, startled. �Dan?�

Isaac�s voice dropped to a whisper. �The guy from TV. The one who makes the weather.�

�The weather?� Nora echoed.

�Shh!� Isaac seemed alarmed. �He�ll hear you!�

�The weatherman?� Nora took a deep breath. �Honey. . .� Oh, gosh, she was thinking. What do they have him on?

�We need somebody to block the door,� Isaac slurred, yawning. �I�d do it, but. . . But. . .� his voice trailed off as he yawned again. �But, you know. About the Egyptians.� He closed his eyes.

�The Egyptians?� Nora parroted, but Isaac didn�t open his eyes again. She shook her head, bemused as well as concerned. Maybe they should cut back his dosages as soon as they could, instead of waiting. Especially if Dan was going to visit soon.

Dan only got about three minutes of sleep before being jolted back into wakefulness by an awful thought. It had been something he�d known all day, known since last night, actually, but it was only now, when he no longer had to put up a front for Taylor and Zac, that it hit him full force.

Kathleen was still out there. He didn�t know where, but she was out there.

I didn�t lock all the doors, Dan thought. Did I? He leapt out of bed and ran downstairs, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. What if she�d come back? What if she wanted to finish the job?

As he dashed from door to door, assuring himself that they were locked, Dan began to regret ever having terrified his little sister Laura with the urban legend of the babysitter whose charges were stabbed to death under her care. �And when she walked up the stairs to check on the children,� he remembered himself saying, �she found them all decapitated in their beds. . .�

Dan stopped in the middle of flinging open the hall closet to check for intruders and dashed upstairs to check on Taylor and Zac. There they were. . . just as he had left them. Asleep, still breathing. Thank God, Dan thought, so relieved it didn�t occur to him that he might be acting irrationally. Now, if I can only keep anyone from getting in. . .

Dan ran back downstairs, peering into every closet and cupboard and lifting the dust ruffle of every piece of furniture. He locked every window, and the basement door, for good measure. He drew the blinds, terrified he might look out to see a pair of wild eyes burning into his. Occasionally, he�d catch site of his own blurry reflection and nearly jump out of his skin. Wherever Kathleen was, whatever she was doing, she had to be out there somewhere. Dan caught his breath. If he got his hands on her, he�d kill her, not so much to vindicate Isaac (he doubted that anything could do that) but so she�d be gone. Dan wanted Kathleen to be somewhere where he�d never have to think about her again. He wanted her to be somewhere where she could never hurt the boys again. And he wanted her to feel, while she was alive, all of the pain she�d inflicted upon her sons, a thousand times over.

A sharp cry from upstairs sent Dan flying back to his bedroom. He ran faster than he�d ever run in his life, determined to stop whatever awful thing was happening, because he�d never been able to before.

And this was something he couldn�t stop either.

�I just keep seeing it!� Zac wailed. �Over and over!� He buried his face in Dan�s shoulder, sobbing. �And I can�t stop thinking about it!� He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the images of the night before from his mind.

Dan rubbed his back. He couldn�t talk; he didn�t know what to say. �Zac. . .�

Zac drew away from him suddenly, purposefully. He was quiet for a moment, regarding Dan out of solemn brown eyes. �I wish someone would come and shoot her until she was dead,� Zac told him. �I wish she�d get squished by a truck.�

�She�ll never hurt you again,� Dan promised. �You or Ike or Tay or anybody.�

�I should have hitted her on the head with a big stick so she couldn�t do it,� Zac quavered. �I should have been like Superman and kicked her out the window.�

�Zac. . .� Dan shook his head. �You didn�t have a big stick. There wasn�t anything you could have done that would have stopped it.�

�I hate her!� Zac yelled. �I wish she was dead!�

�Buddy. . .� Dan bit his lip. �She did something really, really bad. I know you�re mad at her. It�s all right that you�re mad at her. But you couldn�t have stopped it from happening, so you shouldn�t worry about that.�

�I wish I didn�t see it,� Zac cried. �I wish I didn�t.�

�I wish you hadn�t seen it either,� Dan told him. �I really wish you hadn�t.�

�I wish Ike was here,� Zac managed, before dissolving into tears again.

Chapter Sixteen?

Email Sarah?

Back to Index?

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1