Enchantment (25 page)

“Ow.”

“Careful, honey,” Mom said. “You have a few stitches there. Your friend Jennifer says you'll have an interesting scar.”

“I think what she said was 'bitchin',” Dad said.

“Jen was here? When?”

“She came over after school,” Mom said. “Yesterday and the day before. Debbie was here yesterday, too.”

“Man. Party without me, why don't you. Did I wake up?”

“No, honey. This is the first time you've been awake.”

Out for two days and then some. That was bad.

“Madison's coming home for the weekend,” Dad said. She'll be here tomorrow night.”

Holly played with the soda straw, squeaking it up and down in the lid. She wasn't sure she wanted to see Madison. She sucked up the last of the soda with a rude gurgling sound.

“Want another one?” Dad offered.

“No, thanks. That was great.”

She moved to put the cup on her bedside table. Couldn't reach; the IV tube in her arm got in the way. Mom took the cup and set it down.

Her parents both stared at her. She swallowed.

“So, am I grounded forever?”

“No, Holly. We should talk about what happened, though,” Dad said.

“
When you're better,” Mom added. “There's plenty of time.”

Time. Three days gone. Holly took a sharp breath.

“What happened to the spring?”

Her folks traded a glance. Dad's face hardened.

“It's been demolished. And good riddance, too.”

Mom put her hand on his arm. Holly felt her forehead tightening into a frown, and tears welling in her eyes. She rolled over on her side, not wanting them to watch her cry.

“Holly—“

Mom's hand squeezed her shoulder. She couldn't answer; she sobbed instead. The spring was gone.

Ohlan … gone.

She woke with afternoon sunshine spilling across her bed. It took her a minute to remember where she was, and what had happened that morning. Dad had gone back to work, and Mom had stuck around, but they hadn't talked.

She couldn't talk. Ohlan was gone, and there was huge, gaping hole in her heart.

The ache settled on her, now that she was awake and thinking. Her head was hurting less, but her eyes stung, sore from too much crying. She remembered more of the morning.

The nurse had brought a lunch tray but she couldn't eat anything with her stomach tied in knots. She'd drunk part of another ginger ale, and the nurse had given her some pills.

Now it was later, and she was alone. Mom must have gone out to run errands, or maybe gone home to get some sleep. She looked like she'd spent a lot of time sitting by Holly's bed.

Holly looked for a clock, but couldn't see one. She found the control to raise her bed so she could be sitting up, and watched out the window as she slowly rose. Her view was of the mountains, and she couldn't help thinking of the spring, and Ohlan's glen. All torn up now.

She rubbed at her eyes and looked at the shelf full of flower arrangements instead. People loved her enough to send flowers. It wasn't like she was alone in the world. She tried to be happy about that.

Didn't work very well.

She closed her eyes, wishing she could go back to sleep, but now that she was awake all the unfamiliar sounds kept distracting her. People walked back and forth out in the hall, busy and chattery. She heard shuffling footsteps and looked up to see a grey-haired lady going past her door, pushing an IV stand. The lady looked in at her and smiled. Holly didn't know what she had to be so cheerful about; she looked like hell.

She tried to think of something she wanted, but there wasn't anything—nothing she could have, anyway. There was a TV mounted on the wall, but she didn't want to watch TV. Her stomach hurt, but the thought of food didn't appeal. Her head ached. Maybe if she called the nurse, she could get a sleeping pill.

That was all she wanted. To be unconscious, so she wouldn't have to remember.

“Holly! Dude!”

Jen rushed through the door, arms out, looking ready to fling herself on the bed. Holly cringed as Jen leaned across to hug her.

“She's awake?” Deb's voice, from the doorway.

She scrounged up a smile. “Hi, guys.”

They both had their backpacks. Must have come straight from school.

“Don't ever scare us like that again, OK?” Jen said. “Jeez, you look—Ow!”

Debbie had swatted her arm. She moved up closer to Holly. “She looks a little tired, that's all.”

Holly looked at Jen. “I look dead, huh?”

“No. Um, just sort of zombieish.”

I feel dead.

She tried to think of something better to say. “It's nice of you guys to come.”

Jen grinned. “That's what you think. We brought your homework.”

“I don't have my laptop.”

“Yes you do, dear,” said Jen, hefting Holly's pack onto the foot of the bed. “The vice principal opened your locker for us.”

“You don't have to do the assignments right away,” Debbie added, laying a handful of papers on the nightstand. “You're going to have plenty of time to make things up.”

She didn't want to make things up. The thought of school just made her tired. There wasn't any point, any more.

There was a silence while they waited for her to say something. She came up blank.

“Oh, hey! We brought chocolate!” Jen dug in her own pack and produced a bar of extra dark, which she presented with a flourish.

Holly smiled again. “Thanks.”

“Want me to open it for you?”

“I'm not hungry. You have some, if you want.”

“No, dude. It's for you.” Jen put the chocolate bar on the nightstand, then stood looking at her expectantly.

“You have more flowers since yesterday,” Debbie said, strolling over to the shelf.

“My dad brought some. I don't know who the others are from.”

Debbie started hunting out the cards. “Let's see—this one's from your mom and dad, and this one's from the school. Grandma and Grandpa. These are from the gang. Jen brought that goofy plant yesterday. This one says Mr. Drover—is that a teacher?”

Drover. It took Holly a second to place the name.

“No. Let me see that one.”

Debbie brought her the little florist's shop card from a vase of pink carnations. On it, beside a picture of sunflowers, in very neat, precise handwriting, it said:

Very sorry to hear of your accident. Best wishes for your recovery, 

Adam Drover, Las Palomas Div, USFS.

Jen moved up beside her head to read the card. “Some kind of military guy?”

“No,” Holly said. “He works for the Forest Service. I interviewed him.”

“What for?” Debbie asked.

“I was going to write an article for the school paper.”

Jen shook her head. “Dude. Don't go there.”

“I'd like to read it,” Debbie said, shooting Jen a dirty look.

“No point now,” Holly said.

She put the card on the nightstand. It was nice of Mr. Drover to think of her. He must have been upset by what she'd done.

In fact, things were just a big huge mess. The more she thought about it, the worse it looked.

Jen and Debbie stayed a while, chatting about school, but Holly was too numb to answer them. Finally Debbie took hold of Jen's elbow.

“We'd better be going.”

Holly roused herself. “Thanks for coming. Thanks for the chocolate and everything.”

“Feel better, OK?” said Jen, looking worried.

“Yeah.”

Debbie dragged Jennifer out, for which Holly was grateful. She just didn't have the energy to face them. They expected her to be normal. She'd never be normal again.

She caught hold of her pack by one of the straps and dragged it up beside her. It was heavy—all her school books were in it along with her computer.

She pulled the laptop out and booted it up, just to see Ohlan's picture. There he was, sitting on the edge of the coffin with the twilit gloom of the glen all around him, softly glowing. So beautiful, but the best thing about it was the sweetness of his smile and the love shining in his eyes. She sat staring at the screen, silent tears running down her cheeks.

~

The next morning Dr. Staples reappeared. Turned out he was, in fact, a shrink. After saying hello and smiling a lot, he started grilling her about what he insisted on calling her accident.

“It wasn't an accident, OK?” she said. “I threw myself in the spring.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I was trying to save it.”

“What was so important about it?”

Holly felt her throat getting tight, and swallowed. “Nothing. It doesn't matter any more.”

He asked a bunch more questions aimed at the same thing: prying her reasons out of her. She didn't want to talk about them, so she stonewalled. After this went on for a long time, he suddenly changed tactics.

“Your parents told me you were seeing someone new, and that he had something to do with the spring. Can you tell me a little about him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Holly clenched her teeth. Was this what this guy considered therapy? Why didn't he just stick a knife in her heart?

“I don't want to talk about it, OK?”

“Was he the reason you threw yourself in the spring?”

Anything she said in answer to that question was bound to be misconstrued, so she said nothing. The silence stretched.

“OK, Holly. You don't have to talk about it. I'd like you to think about it, though.”

No problem.

“If there's anything you would like to talk about, I'm here to listen.”

She sighed with relief as he left the room. She'd ask Mom not to let that guy come back. Hopefully Mom would listen.

~

That evening the whole family showed up: Mom, Dad, and Madison. Mom had driven down to Albuquerque to pick Mad up at the airport. The three of them arrived carrying a pizza box and yet more flowers.

“These are from me and my roommates,” Madison said. “They all said to tell you hello and get well soon.”

“Thanks,” Holly said, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “They're beautiful.”

Mad added the flowers to the collection on the shelf while Dad shoveled the stuff on Holly's nightstand into the drawer beneath it and put the pizza box on top. The pizza was her favorite—green chile and mushroom—a bribe. Holly hadn't been eating much. She had no appetite and Mom was freaking out about it.

To please her, Holly took a bite of pizza and managed to swallow it. She avoided looking at Mad.

Why was she still pissed? It wasn't like Mad was responsible for Ohlan's death, but the anger she felt was as strong as if Mad herself had swung the sledgehammer.

Just sibling stuff, maybe. Old sibling stuff coming back at her. She'd always hated having Mad held up to her as an example of desired offspring behavior, and she just knew that was what was coming.

Madison's going to college. So should you.

She didn't want to go to college. Hell, she didn't want to finish high school. She just didn't care any more.

Over slices of pizza, Mom and Dad chatted with Madison about her classes. Holly listened, nibbling a little at her slice whenever it looked like someone wanted her to talk.

Into this happy family gathering walked Dr. Tennison, Holly's regular doctor. A nice, older lady who always looked great, she had silvery hair in a short, stylish do and big brown eyes with smile lines at the corners.

“Hey, there. Looks like you're having a pizza party.”

She smiled, completely ignoring the rules against having more than two visitors or having outside food. Holly loved her for that.

“Want a slice?” Holly asked.

“No, thanks—I have a dinner date. I just wanted to let you know we're probably going to release you tomorrow morning.”

“That's wonderful!” Mom said.

Holly managed a smile. “Thanks.”

“We have a few recommendations for continuing care,” Dr. Tennison added, looking at the folks, “but you're stable now, so we'll send you on home.”

Home. Better than here? Maybe. She'd have more privacy. No snoopy shrinks or nosy neighbors.

Dr. Tennison stayed a few minutes, chatting with the family. She'd been Madison's doctor too, until Mad left for college. She asked Mad how school was going and listened to her answers, nodding politely.

She was good at polite. Holly sucked at it. She let her feelings get in the way too much.

Dr. Tennison turned to her with a farewell smile, and took her hand. “Call me if I can help with anything, OK?”

“OK. Thanks.”

A squeeze of the fingers, then she left. Holly watched her go.

“Well, that's a relief,” Madison said, a little too brightly. “Thought for a minute I was going to get stuck with all your chores this weekend.”

Mom shot Madison a sharp look. “We're not going to worry about chores right away,” she reassured Holly.

“It was a joke,” Mad said, sounding unhappy.

“Could I have some of that ginger ale?” Holly asked.

Instantly the family went to work finding the ginger ale, fetching a cup of ice, pouring the soda. Holly hated quarrels, so she kept them busy with more requests. Show her the flowers from Mad's roommates. Find her chocolate bar and share it out. Tell her what was in the news. She only half listened, but it gave the family something to do.

Finally they ran out of small talk, and started making noises about going home. Relieved, because she really was tired, Holly thanked them again for the pizza.

“There's some left,” Mad said, peeking in the box.

“Take it home. You like pizza for breakfast.”

Mom leaned in to hug Holly. “We'll be back in the morning. Sleep well, honey.”

Dad hugged her, too. Mad was conveniently burdened with the pizza box, so she just waved goodbye. Holly wondered if Mad was as reluctant as she was to do the sweet sister thing.