Bloodchild (24 page)

"Thank you," she said. "Do I need any medication?"

"Definitely not."

"Can I go home today?" she asked quickly.

"Of course. There's nothing more that can be done for you here. Just take it easy for a day or two. You did have' a rather intense shock to your nervous system, even though the cause was in your own mind. The net result wouldn't have been any different had there really been bloodstains and corpses hanging in sheds. Understand?" She nodded. "I have the number where your brother can be reached," he said. "I'll call him and tell him it's all right to come pick you up."

"Thank you," she said.

"By the way," he said, "I'm the youngest of four children, all boys. My three older brothers would have drowned me in a potato sack if they could have. Now we all couldn't be any closer."

"Why does it have to be this way?" she wondered aloud. "Why are our feelings and emotions so complicated?"

"Why? I don't want to get into that. It just is, and part of life, part of being mature, is dealing with what is or what has to be. I think you're going to be just fine," he added, and then left.

Now, as she stood by the window in her hospital room waiting for Harlan's arrival, she wondered if Dr. Lisa really had that confidence in her or simply said the things he had said as a means of building her up. Did he say such things to all his patients? Anyway, what difference did it really make, as long as it worked? she thought.

"Great, you're all ready," Harlan said as he came through the doorway. She spun around to greet him and immediately was struck by his appearance. His hair was unbrushed, looking as it would when he had first gotten up. He looked pale and tired, his eyes slightly bloodshot. The knot in his tie was sloppy, the tie itself uneven. She was surprised because Harlan was usually meticulous when it came to his clothes, especially the clothes he wore to school.

"Hi. You spoke to Dr. Lisa?"

"Yep." He looked around nervously. She sensed a tenseness in his demeanor. Gone was the usual subdued manner, the laid-back posture, and the calm expression that sometimes annoyed Dana. Her sister-in-law often said something could blow up in the house or catch on fire and Harlan would simply get up slowly, almost reluctantly, and quietly dial the fire department while she jumped around and screamed hysterically. Right now he looked more like a drug addict frantic about his next fix.

"Everything else all right?" she asked.

"What? Yeah. Wonderful. Everything's much better. Come on, I'll get you home so you can shower and change and go to the game."

She didn't ask him anything else about things at home until she had checked out of the hospital and was in the car. The way he had fidgeted around in the hospital corridors and the administration office made her think he was pressured for time.

"Your next class isn't until two-thirty, right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," he said.

He was very distracted, almost oblivious to what he said or was doing. She saw that he drove a lot faster than usual, making his turns sharply, accelerating and passing cars. Was this her conservative, calm brother?

"How are things between you and Nurse Patio?" she asked.

"What? Good. Why?"

"Why? Yesterday you said—" ,

"She's good," he said quickly. "She's professional. It's good we have her." He turned to her sharply, his eyes wide. "Don't say anything critical about her to Dana. Don't do that."

"Who said I would, Harlan?" She shook her head, a half smile on her face. "I'm the one who was in the hospital, but you're the one acting kind of strange."

"Me?" He produced a short, nervous laugh. "Actually, I didn't have too good a night."

"The baby was up?" she asked innocently.

"No. I don't know. Maybe. Yeah. I think so, but that wasn't what kept me from having a good night's rest."

"What was it?"

"Too much wine at dinner," he said, smiling. "You can hallucinate from drinking too much alcohol, you know."

She misunderstood him. "That's not what happened to me, Harlan. I didn't drink any wine first."

"Oh, I know. I had a good talk with this psychologist. Right on the money. Yeah. I know. So you'll go to the game." He turned to her again, his face twisted in what looked to be a painful grimace. "Just ignore Nurse Patio if she bothers you. Stay to yourself. Do your own thing. She won't be with us that long."

"I'm not worried about it, Harlan," she said, surprised at his outburst. She shook her head and looked out the window for the rest of the ride home.

The first thing that struck her about the house was how dark it was. All the curtains and shades were drawn. There were no lights on in any of the rooms. She paused in the doorway as though they had entered the wrong house and looked at Harlan for an explanation, but he seemed oblivious.

"Why is it so dark in here?" she asked.

"Oh. Nurse Patio says we have to keep it that way. Something to do with the way the light affects Dana and the baby. Put the lights on as you need to, but don't leave them on when you're finished."

"What does light do to them?"

"I don't know. Sensitivity. Something like that. I'm not the professional, she is," he snapped. The sharpness of his reply was so unexpected, she actually stepped back, as if he had slapped her. She saw he didn't regret his tone of voice, either. Surprised, she looked around and then rushed up the stairs to her room.

The door to Jillian's room was partly open. She peered in as she passed and saw all of Jillian's things piled up in the far corner. The nurse's suitcase was open on a chair against the wall. She shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that Jillian would just walk out of the house and go to New York, fight or no fight.

In her usual way she turned on her stereo and put a tape into the deck as soon as she entered her room. The action was practically automatic. Harlan kidded her about it often, saying he was going to hook the stereo up to the door so it would go on and off as it opened and closed.

While Cat Stevens sang "Hard Headed Woman," she sat on her bed thinking. Harlan was acting weird, all right, but
Keep calm
, she told herself.
Just keep calm
. She turned her attention to her wardrobe and thought about what she would wear to the big game. Just as she started to sift through her garments, there was a loud, hard knock on her door.

"Hello," Nurse Patio said. Colleen gazed at her in the doorway. Colleen was surprised because she had assumed she would be much older. She thought she was attractive, with her silky black hair and jet-black eyes. Her facial features looked sculpted, proportional, but coldly statuesque. She did have a hard, stern look, and her posture was so perfect, it seemed as if she had a steel backbone.

But Colleen thought the uniform clung to her body almost obscenely. The milk-white cotton material, tucked in under and around her breasts, looked like a bra. It was possible to make out her collarbone and ribs. After having seen nurses in uniform at the hospital, this one looked more like a caricature. Colleen couldn't help stepping back. Nurse Patio ignored the look of surprise on Colleen's face.

"Hello," Colleen said.

"I'm Nurse Patio, Rose Patio. I'm sure your brother told you why I am here."

"Yes."

"You'll have to make that music lower," she demanded.

"Oh. I didn't realize…"

"For a while we all have to start thinking more about Dana and the baby."

"Of course. I'm sorry." Colleen turned and quickly went to the stereo to lower the volume, but when she looked back at the doorway to see if Nurse Patio approved, she was already gone. "Jesus," she said, and shook her head. She closed her door and turned her attention back to choosing her clothing for the game.

She dressed in her black-and-gold sweatshirt, black pants, black Reeboks, and gold socks. Looking at herself in the mirror, she recalled the last time she'd worn this outfit to a game. Bobby Stuart had asked her if she wore black or gold panties too. She laughed at the memory. Now, of course, she had added one additional thing to her outfit: the silver cross. She pulled it up from under the sweatshirt and draped it between her breasts.

Satisfied that she looked healthy and vibrant and that all traces of her short, but dramatic, hospital stay were gone, she left her room, intending to have something to eat and then go off to the game.

She found Harlan in his den/office, going over some paperwork. He had put on only the desk lamp and was hovering over his papers in the small amount of light. When she asked him if he wanted her to make him some lunch, he didn't reply. Thinking he was too deeply involved in his work to hear her, she shrugged and went to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. Just as she sat down at the table, the phone rang. Before she got to it, it stopped. Nevertheless she picked up the receiver, hearing voices. Nurse Patio had answered the phone upstairs. She was speaking to Trish Lewis.

"Yes, I am the nurse Harlan hired," Colleen heard her say to Trish.

Trish simply said "Oh."

"I'm afraid Dana can't be disturbed for a while."

"Is she all right?"

"She'll be just fine, as long as we give her what she needs and help her along. For the present she must be sheltered from any excitement."

"Of course. If there's anything I can do…"

"Thank you, but there's nothing."

"I see. Is Harlan at home? I wanted to ask him about Colleen," Trish said.

"Hi," Colleen interjected. "I have it," she added for Nurse Patio's benefit, but she didn't hear her hang up. "I have it," she repeated. There was a click. "Hi, Trish, I'm home."

"Oh, how are you, honey?"

"I'm better."

"Who is that woman?" Trish asked. Colleen laughed.

"Someone from the KGB, I think."

"How are you?" Trish repeated.

"Okay. Really," Colleen emphasized.

"I heard they traced Jillian," Trish said, tiptoeing over the words. "Found out she bought a bus ticket to New York."

"Yes. I know. I think I realize what happened to me now, although I still can't understand Jillian going off like that."

"You haven't heard from her?"

"Not yet."

"How is Dana?"

"I haven't seen her yet. I think I'll have to make an appointment through her nurse," Colleen said, and laughed.

"Yeah. It sounds like it. All right. You call if you or Harlan need anything, okay, honey?"

"Sure thing. And thanks," Colleen said. "Talk to you soon," she added, then hung up. Before she got back to the table to eat her sandwich, Nurse Patio was in the doorway. Colleen turned because she actually felt the woman's presence before hearing or seeing her. Hearing her was practically out of the question, anyway. The woman must walk on air, she thought, even though those soft white shoes looked like they would squeak.

What had happened cast a chill over her. It was as though the woman's cold, dark shadow knifed through her back and stabbed her in the heart with a blade of ice. Colleen shuddered, and that was when she turned to the doorway.

Nurse Patio looked taller, wider, her breasts more swollen. She had her hands on her hips, the elbows extended so that she blocked the entire doorway. "That wasn't very polite," she said.

"Pardon?" Colleen said.

"When you heard I was on the phone, you should have gotten off, not listened to the conversation and then interrupted me, making me feel as though I were the rude one listening in on you."

"That's ridiculous," Colleen said. "First off, that was Trish Lewis, Dana's close friend, and she wanted to speak to either me or Harlan. Why do you answer the phone, anyway?"

"What is it?" Harlan asked, coming up behind Colleen. She turned to him, disgusted. "She's angry because I picked up the phone after she did and overheard her conversation with Trish Lewis."

Harlan looked at Nurse Patio. She lifted her hands from her hips and pressed them over the top of her chest. Her eyes now glowed like hot coals, the black having an orange tint.

"She listened in and interrupted," Nurse Patio said.

"Did you, Colleen?" he asked softly.

"It was Trish Lewis, Harlan. For God's sake!"

"That's not the point. It's all right, Nurse Patio. It won't happen again," he said. She nodded, smiling with satisfaction.

"Harlan!" Colleen's eyes filled with tears. "I didn't do anything wrong. If anything, she should have called you to the phone to speak to Trish."

"I'm sure she was only trying to do the right thing. We've got to keep Dana quiet for a few days. She's been through some terrible times."

"But, Harlan—"

"Let's forget about it," he snapped. "Please, let's try to get along and not make big things out of small things. Not now. I need some peace around here!" he said. His face exploded. His cheeks reddened, his eyes widened, and his mouth twisted in at the corners. Then he clenched his fists and raised his arms for emphasis. She couldn't believe she was looking at her brother.

She looked back at the front entrance to the kitchen, but Nurse Patio was gone. The woman moves around like a ghost, she thought. She sat down, avoiding Harlan's gaze. After a moment he returned to the den. She tried to eat, but her appetite had diminished. She could only pick at the sandwich. Disgusted, she went back upstairs to her room, intending to finish with her hair and makeup, but she paused when she saw Nurse Patio standing in Dana's bedroom doorway. The nurse turned expectantly as she approached.

"Can I speak to her?"

"Just for a moment. The baby's about to feed," she said firmly.

She entered the bedroom. All the lights were off and the room was lit only by the thin rays that leaked in around the shades and curtains. Dana was sitting up in the bed and had the baby cradled in her arms. She was staring down at the infant and didn't look up when Colleen walked into the room. Colleen glanced back. Nurse Patio was right behind her.

"Hi, Dana," she said, and stepped up to the bed. Dana turned her head slowly, as though she were in a daze. At first she said nothing. Colleen looked down at the baby. His eyes were still closed. For a moment she didn't think it was the same child. He looked so much bigger, months older. All the baby fat was gone from his face. His cheeks were lean, the jawbone emphatic. His facial features were as formed as a mature man's. In fact, the well-developed nose, the strong, full mouth, and the deep-set eyes made him look freakish. It was almost as if a twenty-year-old man's head had been transplanted onto a baby's body.