From a Distant Star (6 page)

She was so full of herself, and until recently, I seemed to be the only one who noticed this fact. But now Mrs. Walker was growing wise to her. “I understand all of that, Nancy, but believe me, that’s not what’s happening. You have to see him,” she said sternly. “He ate a sandwich and a full bowl of pudding. He spent all afternoon watching movies with his brother. His urine is
yellow
.”

“Oh.” From the tone of Nancy’s voice, I could tell she was taken aback, but she recovered quickly. “Well, let’s take a look, shall we?” she said brightly.

As I heard their approaching footsteps, I scurried away from the door, taking my place back in the corner. Eric had pulled his chair closer to the bed and set the laptop on Lucas’s legs. Both guys were so engrossed in what they were watching that, when their parents and Nancy entered, they didn’t even look up, but my gaze was fixed on the doorway, waiting for Nancy’s reaction. She stared at Lucas with a stunned, wide-eyed expression. Her mouth hung open, and she stopped in her tracks, blocking Mr. and Mrs. Walker behind her. I decided to break the spell.

“Hi, Nancy,” I said.

She ignored me, but my voice got the attention of both Eric and Lucas, who looked up to see who I was talking to. Nancy, meanwhile, seemed to have recovered from her shock.

“Hi, Lucas,” she said, her voice chipper, walking closer to the bed.

“Hi, Nancy,” Lucas said, his inflections matching mine exactly.

Mrs. Walker nudged her husband, whose eyes widened. Eric reacted too, flashing a grin in my direction, like we were members of a secret club. All of us stayed silent while Nancy went into nurse mode, checking Lucas’s heart rate and blood pressure, and staring
into his eyes with a tiny flashlight. She lifted up the catheter bag and stared at the urine for a few seconds before setting it down again. Finally, she spoke.

“How do you feel, Lucas?” she asked, her hand on his shoulder.

The words that made up his reply came out haltingly, but they were words and they were spoken in the right order and it was an answer. The right answer. Lucas said, “I feel better.”

I wanted to hug him and, at the same time, I felt like cheering. And his family looked like they felt the same way.

“Are you experiencing any pain?” she asked, her tone confused, but also kindly. My opinion of Nancy went up a notch. She was still a know-it-all, but I could tell now that she actually did care.

Lucas shook his head. “No pain. I would like—” he said, his eyes gazing at the ceiling as if trying to think of a word. The whole room waited in suspense until he said, “—to stand and walk. Can I stand and walk?”

Nancy’s hand flew to her forehead, like she felt a sudden headache coming on. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Lucas. I think I should call Dr. Griffin and see what he says.” Dr. Griffin was the name of Lucas’s oncologist. Not my favorite guy, probably because he’d given my boyfriend a death sentence. Nancy said, almost to herself, “Yeah, I think I should make some calls. Just sit tight.” She motioned to the bed with the flat of her hand. “I’ll be right back.” She left the room with a flustered flap of her arms and Mr. and Mrs. Walker followed behind, murmuring excitedly to each other.

CHAPTER EIGHT

After they’d left, I said, “So you feel better, Lucas?”

He lifted his chin and nodded. “Much better. Can I stand and walk?”

Eric stood up. “I say we let him.” He came around to my side of the bed, and pulled back the blanket and sheets.

I wasn’t sure this was a good idea. “Maybe we should wait and see what Dr. Griffin says?” I asked, not moving.

“Oh, screw Dr. Griffin. What does he know? He’s been wrong about everything else.” Eric’s smile widened into a grin. “You get on one side, Emma, I’ll get on the other.” Eric unhooked the catheter bag and held onto it while assisting Lucas with his free hand.

I followed his lead and helped guide Lucas’s legs over the edge of the bed. All Lucas had on was one of those thin hospital gowns that opened in the back. Normally, it didn’t make a difference because he was covered up in bed, but now I could see more and I was shocked by how pale and skinny his lower legs were. His kneecaps were so knobby they almost looked malformed. This was not Lucas’s body. The Lucas I knew was bulky and strong. I remembered resting my head on his chest and feeling the solid rise and fall of his breathing and the beating of his heart. Now I could feel his bones through his arms. Such a change. I consoled myself by
thinking he’d have time to gain weight and get back in shape before school started again in the fall.

Taking a cue from Eric, Lucas scooted sideways on the bed, allowing me to take his other arm. He eased off the bed and onto his feet, standing straight and tall. Lucas smiled, not the easy, toothy smile I knew, but a satisfied stretch of thin lips. It was the first smile I’d seen from him in a long time. It felt good to see him on his feet, and even better to feel him right next to me, even if it meant he was holding on to me for support.

“Good going, Lucas!” Eric exclaimed. “Now just put one foot in front of the other.”

Eric and I knew we couldn’t risk being seen, so we walked Lucas slowly around the bed to the other side of the room, and paused at the window, which had been covered by blinds since the hospital bed had taken up residence in the dining room. Sunlight glinted in between the slats, hinting at the beautiful summer day outside.

“Can I see it?” Lucas asked, his head wobbling forward to indicate the window.

I pulled on the cord and the blinds flew up, giving us a view of the barn and the fields beyond. To my eyes, the world had gotten prettier in the last forty-eight hours.

“Oh,” Lucas said, his voice tinged with surprise.

“What?” Eric asked, giving me a sideways glance.

When Lucas didn’t answer, I said, “It looks different from here, doesn’t it?”

“Different from here,” he agreed.

On a working farm, there was never any time to admire the view. Lucas and his family were always coming and going to the barn with a purpose. All of them worked hard, and in between taking care of the cows and everything else that needed to be done, Lucas had school and sports and going out with friends. And me. Stopping to stare out the dining room window would never have
fit into Lucas’s old schedule, but here it was, the farm laid out before us and nothing better to do but stop and take it all in: the big trees on one side that would be covered with apples in the fall; the silo where the feed for the cows was stored; the original barn, now used by Eric as a workshop; and on the other side of the yard, the new barn with its gleaming metal roof.

“It’s beautiful,” I said to no one in particular. “Don’t you think?”

Eric shrugged. “Kinda, I guess,” he said.

We were walking Lucas back to the other side of the bed when the doorbell rang again. It wasn’t Nancy this time; she was still on the phone. I heard Mrs. Walker open the front door. A few moments later, she let someone in. I caught a man’s voice saying something I couldn’t quite make out. Could the doctor be here already?

The voices got louder and now I heard a woman join in, saying something about how she hated to intrude, that it would just be a few questions and then they’d be on their way.

Like kids who were about to get caught with our hands in the cookie jar, Eric and I hurried to get Lucas back to where he was supposed to be. We had just gotten him back in place, blankets arranged and catheter bag hung on its hook, when Mrs. Walker appeared in the doorway.

“This is Emma,” she said, stepping aside. “The one I told you about. The friend of my son Lucas. She was here that night.”

Behind her stood a man and woman, both about my mom’s age. Each of them wore office attire—dark pressed pants and light colored button-down shirts. The woman had a soft-sided briefcase slung over one shoulder; the man had an iPad tucked under his arm.

Mrs. Walker continued. “My son Lucas was comatose at the time. And my other son, Eric, the one with the dark hair, was upstairs sleeping when we heard the noise.”

But the woman was only interested in me. “Hi, Emma,” she said, her mouth widening into a friendly grin. She extended her hand to me. “We have a lot in common. My middle name is Emma.” Like that meant we would be instant friends.

I reluctantly shook her hand. “Hi,” I said. I darted a glance toward Mrs. Walker. “What’s going on?”

Mrs. Walker said, “These people are from the—” And then she stopped, trying to remember.

My new friend filled in her pause. “I’m Mariah Wilson and this is Todd Goodman. We’re with a federal agency, the NTSB, the National Transportation Safety Board, investigating an incident that happened two nights ago involving an accidental collision. We believe some pieces of the aircraft may have landed in the area. We’re just here to ask a few questions.”

“Wow,” I said. “What kind of collision? An airplane crash?”

“We’re just here to ask a few questions,” she repeated. “And then we’ll be on our way.”

Mrs. Walker said, “Why don’t we take this into the living room and let Lucas rest? Eric, stay with your brother.” She beckoned with one finger. “Emma, come along.”

I dutifully followed her into the next room, walking past Nancy, who was talking to Mr. Walker.

Mrs. Walker said to the agents, “You really caught us at a bad time. My son is very ill and the nurse is following up on an unexpected change in his health.”

“What kind of change?” Todd asked.

Mrs. Walker said, “He’s gotten better.”

All four of us trooped into the living room and I took a seat in the chair that was normally Mr. Walker’s, a dark-colored recliner Lucas loved to describe as “cow-pie brown.”

The agents sat side by side on the couch, while Mrs. Walker stood next to me, her hand protectively on my shoulder.

“Now, Emma,” agent Mariah said, leaning forward eagerly. “Two nights ago, Wednesday, can you tell me if you heard anything out of the ordinary?”

“I was sitting by Lucas and there was a noise outside.”

“What time did this occur?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” I looked up at Mrs. Walker. “Eleven, maybe?”

She nodded.

“Can you describe the noise?” Mariah asked. Next to her, Todd was jotting down notes on his iPad.

“A thud, followed by an echoing sound. It was kind of muffled.”

“Was it loud?” she asked.

“Well, loud enough,” I said. “Both of us heard it. Mrs. Walker was in the kitchen and I was in the dining room.”

She went on to ask how long the noise lasted and what direction the sound came from and I answered both questions, and then she asked if I had noticed anything else unusual that evening. Anything at all.

“No.” I shook my head. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“And you haven’t noticed anything unusual outside—any foreign objects or signs that the ground had been disturbed?”

“No.”

“We told you that already,” Mrs. Walker said. “We didn’t find any part of an airplane, believe me, or I would have told you.”

“I know,” Mariah said, “but we like to check with everyone in the household. Sometimes people notice something, but don’t mention it to others in the family.”

“Emma is not a member of the family. She’s a visitor,” Mrs. Walker said, folding her arms in front of her.

“I understand,” Mariah said soothingly. “Sorry. Okay, next question—your son, Lucas. You said he has cancer?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of cancer?”

“What does it matter?”

Mariah smiled. “I know it seems ridiculous, but my supervisor would like us to be thorough, so I always include a few extra details in my report, just to make him happy.”

“I’d rather not get into my son’s health history,” Mrs. Walker said. “It’s a private matter. Put that in your report.”

Todd spoke up. “What is Lucas’s full name?”

Mrs. Walker said, “Lucas James Walker.” She glanced over at Todd, who appeared to be typing Lucas’s full name into his notes. “Why is any of this relevant?”

“And Lucas, you said, has unexpectedly gotten better.”

Mrs. Walker’s face stiffened. “Yes, that’s right.”

“When did this happen? Was it after you heard the noise, by any chance?”

Then Mrs. Walker did something completely out of character. She lied. “No, this is something we noticed earlier in the week, and he’s been improving by the day. The doctor said it’s rare, but it happens.”

“Oh.” Mariah didn’t have anything to say to that.

“Now if that’s all, I’ll see you to the door and you can be on your way,” Mrs. Walker said firmly. This was the Mrs. Walker I knew. A force to be reckoned with.

Mariah ignored Mrs. Walker and addressed me directly. “I just need your full name for my report, Emma, and that will wrap things up.”

I looked to Mrs. Walker, who nodded her approval. I said, “Emma Garson.”

“G-A-R-S-O-N?” I nodded and she asked, “Middle initial?”

“
L
. It’s Leigh. Emma Leigh Garson.”

The two agents stood. “One more thing,” Todd said. “We’d like to take a look around the property, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“A look around?” Mrs. Walker said, her face showing how clearly she disliked this turn of events.

“If that’s okay,” Todd said, smiling widely. “We just want to walk out around the barn and see if we can determine what caused the noise. If it’s a piece of an aircraft, it belongs to our agency and it needs to be recovered and assessed.”

“And you have to do it right now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mariah said. “It’s time sensitive and we are here now. If we take care of it now, we won’t have to come back and bother you again.”

Mrs. Walker hesitated and then she said, “All right. But our dog is outside and he doesn’t like strangers. Emma, could you go out and get Mack and bring him inside?” She addressed the agents. “Just hang on. As soon as Mack is inside, it will be fine.”

I followed her instructions without answering, getting up and heading to the back door. I heard Todd say, “She seems like a lovely girl. Your son’s girlfriend?”

Mrs. Walker’s terse response: “She’s a friend of the family.” That was a new one. Me, a friend of the entire family? Very curious.

Something about these two agents didn’t seem quite right and I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Mrs. Walker had picked up on it too. She had been guarded when they asked about Lucas and she insinuated that they wouldn’t be safe outside if the dog was there. Not true. Mack wasn’t fond of strangers, but he wasn’t a biter. More likely, he would just bark continuously. So what was the deal? Was Mrs. Walker worried these people might hurt the dog? Unlikely, I thought, but better safe than sorry.