JACK (23 page)

“Which was what?”

“She told the Sunday school teacher she wasn’t a girl. That she had this thing inside her that told her she wasn’t a girl.” Emma dropped her voice and leaned forward. “She told them she was possessed.”

I did tell the teacher I wasn’t a girl. She thought I should do the needlework project, but I wanted to build a bird house with the boys. She came up with the rest on her own. People believed her too. Just like Emma, they wanted to believe.

Dr. Chance scribbled something down in his note book. “While that is interesting, it’s still not grounds to—”

“I want it done.”

I tried not to flinch.

“Mrs. Downey—”

“I’m in charge of Jacqueline’s care and I want it done. Tell him, Jonathan!”

Phillip leaned forward. “How much will it cost?”

Dr. Chance looked stricken. “Cost is irrelevant. This isn’t something—”

“And you’re not paying for it, so how much?”

“I can’t give you the amount off the top of my head. That isn’t my area. You’d have to talk with the hospital’s financial department.”

“I don’t care how much it costs,” Emma said. “I want you to fix her!”

Phillip glared at Emma. “It does matter.”

“No it doesn’t. If it will make her normal, it doesn’t matter at all. I want it done. You know how, don’t you?”

Dr. Chance put his pen away and the notebook on his desk. “I’ve performed several.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“I think we should discuss this.” He looked at me. “Jacqueline, do you have anything to say?” It was almost a plea.

Poor Dr. Chance. He didn’t get it. Emma had spoken and that’s all there was to be said.

“Jacqueline?”

I stared out the window.

“Don’t you have something to say about this?”

I wondered how many times Dr. Chance was going to ask me that question and how long it would take for him to realize I had no intentions of answering it.

“Jacqueline?”

The sky was patch-worked with thick clouds. A small cluster over the parking lot looked like a group of rabbits. I named them, Hippty, Hoppity, Cotton Tail and Bob Tail.

“It’s important we communicate with one another. It’s important you let your sister see the progress you’ve made.”

A yellowed leaf flipped through the air and stuck to the window, pinned there by the wind. When the breeze died the leaf fluttered to the edge joining a few others that lay there. By the end of the month all the leaves on the trees would have turned.

“See, I told you she’s not getting better.”

“Please, Mrs. Downey.”

I was getting too old for Halloween but it was still my favorite time of year. The costumes, the candy. Everybody got to be who they wanted to be on Halloween—monster, ghost, angel, cat, or cowboy—it didn’t matter.

“She isn’t normal. She’s never been normal. I brought her here so you could help her,” Emma said.

“And I am helping her.”

If I could go trick-or-treating I would be an astronaut. I tried to think of a costume for Noah.

“I want the surgery.”

“Mrs. Downey, please.”

I knew all the best places there was to go candy hunting in Union. Some people was stingy and only gave one or two pieces. Others would fill your bucket on one stop.

“Jacqueline.” There was real fear in Dr. Chance’s voice. “I need you to look at me. Please look at me.”

Noah and me could carve Jack-o-Lanterns. We’d give them big teeth and funny eyes.

*** *** ***

The moonlight made everything in my room silver. The blankets became a still pool rippling around my legs, the floor a vast field of pale gray, and the walls mountains pitted with valleys.

I watched a quarter-sized spider weave its web across the window. Long delicate legs churned, sewing gossamer strands into geometric shapes. Its shadow danced on my face as it crawled from one side of the window to the other, meticulously constructing its home.

A cocooned insect made an imperfection in the spider’s artwork. It was off to the side, shriveled and forgotten.

I ran a hand over the bulge in the mattress made by weeks’ worth of pills. Dr. Chance was still trying to talk Emma out of the surgery. I wondered if he cut out part of my brain if I would be normal and if I wasn’t, would I even care.

Noah didn’t seem to care. He didn’t seem to care about anything.

The tears started as a slow trickle down my cheeks, but it didn’t take long for them to soak my pillow. The sobbing was next, great bouts of anguish that ripped pitiful sounds out of my chest and racked my body. I curled on my side and buried my wails into the blankets.

I didn’t know how long I’d lay there sobbing when a hand touched my cheek. I jerked back. The door to my room was open, spilling yellow light across the floor. Noah stood by my bed. My first thought was, he couldn’t be real. Then Noah climbed in beside me and lay down. He put an arm around my shoulders and I lay my head on his chest. I couldn’t quit staring at him. His fingers combed though my hair over and over while he gazed at the ceiling. I hoped this wasn’t a dream and if it was, I never wanted to wake up again.

Emma would not back down. I could tell Dr. Chance wasn’t happy about her decision but all his arguments on my behalf fell on deaf ears.

Now he knew how I felt.

I was supposed to go in the morning, but a lightning storm put everything on hold. Nurses gathered around the TV and orderlies watched the sky outside the windows. Jagged streaks of light jumped from black cloud to black cloud, holding everyone in awe. It was as if the entire world had fallen silent except for the wind, the rain, and the crack of thunder.

I stood on Noah’s bed and pulled myself up on the ledge of the window so I could see out. Bright white and blue streaks split the sky. Pulses of light backlit angry clouds while delicate glowing branches danced back and forth. It was beautiful and at the same time the most terrifying storm I’d ever seen.

Beyond the garden wall a transformer was struck and exploded. The shower of sparks and concussion from the blast sent me scurrying back. I went too far and fell onto the floor. Everything went dark. Noah remained on the edge of the bed. His face was blank but his hands were clenched.

Beams of light led the orderlies down the hall. They knocked on doors gathering everyone up.

James stuck his head in the room. “C’mon you two, we’re all heading to the interior hallway.”

“Are there tornadoes?”

“No tornadoes yet, but they’ve issued a watch.”

“Then why are we going?”

“It’s a precaution. Nothing more.”

He went to the room across the hall. With the lights out, the shadows were thick. I got off the floor and went over to Noah. Outside the storm rumbled.

“C’mon, we’d better go.” I pulled but he didn’t move. “What’s wrong?” His hand tightened in mine. “Noah?”

His lips moved.

I almost dismissed it. I’d seen him do it before but not utter a word, but the night before he’d climbed into my bed of his own free will. I put my ear to his lips. At first I just felt the warmth of his breath against my ear. I’d missed the sensation as much as I missed his kisses.

“Stay.” It was more of a sigh than a word.

I bit my lip. “Say it again.”

“Stay.”

“You want to stay here.”

He didn’t answer.

“Say it again.”

His lips moved but this time there was no sound.

“Please, Noah, just say it one more time.”

His lips pressed together and his nose wrinkled. “Stay here.”

I hugged him. “You spoke.” I kissed him on the side of the head. “You spoke, Noah.” I was happy until it dawned on me this might be the last time I ever heard his voice. After the storm they would take out a part of my brain too.

Noah’s gaze met mine for a moment before sliding away. If Noah wanted to stay, then I would do it.

I looked over my shoulder and into the hall where the last of the C ward disappeared down the corridor in the direction of the laundry room. Another roll of thunder vibrated through the walls. It felt like the very ground beneath our feet was growling.

“Let’s get under the bed.” This time when I tugged his hand he did as I asked. I pushed the pillow and blanket and put them next to him. “Wait here.” Last thing I needed was to wind up in trouble with Dr. Chance. The halls were all but empty. I ducked back just as James shone his flashlight down the hall. The beam slid against the wall, then the floor in front of me, before winking out. I shut the door and went back to the bed and slid under it.

Noah still hadn’t done anything with the blanket so I covered him up and put the pillow under his head. The floor was cold and it didn’t take long for it to sink into my bones. I lay there with my hand in his.

Outside the storm howled and static electricity crackled in the air. Every breath I drew became heavy, like the space around us had thickened. It was like the air had weight. A roll of thunder began and didn’t stop. Noah tensed but for once it was me who was afraid.

“I’m not sure hiding under the bed was a good idea.” I didn’t want to leave though. This was where Noah wanted to be, so I did too. My ears popped from the pressure. “One day, you and me, we’ll live somewhere there are no storms.” I laughed because of how absurd the idea was. I didn’t care. “It’ll be an island, and our house will be on the beach. We’ll eat watermelon and I’ll teach you how to spit.”

Another crash of thunder. It was so sharp my ears rang. The growl of thunder grew. I hid my face in Noah’s neck.

“I want to be an astronaut for Halloween, and you can be a cowboy.”

Glass shattered somewhere in the distance. It was too far away to be in Noah’s room, it had to of come from down the hall.

“We can have a garden with sunflowers and have a dog. We can call him Grom.”

A loud boom shook the entire wing and the building shifted. I cried out and clung to Noah. Another rumbled followed, this one deep, rolling, insidious. Heat erupted in the room and I heard the sound of brick clattering against the tile floor. I screamed as a deafening explosion filled my ears and it became impossible for me to breath.

“Noah! Oh, God!”

A whoosh of air turned the room cold and glass sprayed out over the floor behind me. I pulled Noah closer. Rain saturated the floor, soaking us.

The emergency lights in the hallway went out and there was a moment of complete blackness before a reddish glow took its place.

I smelled smoke.

I crawled out from under the bed. The door to the room hung crooked on bent hinges. I went over and pulled on the handle. Metal whined, brick crumbled. I had barely enough time to move before it fell. Smoke rolled into the gaping hole. Down the hall fire danced across the ceiling with a deafening roar. Under the sound I heard people screaming.

Another whoosh of heat and flame knocked me to my knees. I covered my head as a wave of torrid air rushed down the hall. Another boom followed it, louder than the thunder and more violent than the lightning.

We had to get out. I had no idea where we were going to go, but we couldn’t stay here. I crawled back over to the bed. Rain water on the floor made me slide. Glass and bits of flower pot stuck in my hands and knees. I grabbed Noah’s hand, but he wouldn’t budge. “Noah! We have to leave!” He pulled out of my grip. I slid under the bed. “Please, please. Everything’s on fire.”

I put a hand on his cheek to make him look at me. He resisted. Orange light bled into the room. I could feel the heat. My throat burned with every breath I took.

“Please, Noah, I don’t want to die.”

I heard a plaintive wail from the hallway and looked. I shouldn’t have, I should have kept my face buried in Noah’s neck. Someone staggered past the door. The remains of clothing hung in smoldering rags from their blackened body. The person collapsed. I could hear the sizzle of their hair shriveling. Pungent and sweet. Burning hair and bacon, that’s what they smelled like.

Noah squeezed my hand and I looked at him. Would we die here? He still stared at the mattress above us. I watched as he lifted a hand, finger out. I turned my head so I could see what he was pointing at. There was a key stuck in the springs. The key Grom had given him.

Noah’s lips moved. “Up.”

“Up?”

He said it again.

I had no idea what he meant unless he was talking about the ceiling, and even if he was, that was in the direction of the fire.

He squeezed my hand. “Up!” That time it wasn’t a whisper.

“Okay, okay. Up.” I pulled the key out, keeping it in my palm. Noah crawled out from under the bed when I pulled on his hand. I grabbed the soaking blanket and covered us up. Both of us shivered but it wouldn’t last long.

Black smoke rolled like thunder heads licking the hallway. The tremendous heat pressed down on our backs. We crawled past the body. I couldn’t tell who it was. Bone shone through split and blistered skin. A hand reached out to me.

We didn’t stop.

The double doors leading to the other wings had been torn off the hinges and hung in twisted wads of metal. Glass covered everything and we left red hand prints on the tile. I pulled on one of the upturned corners but the door wouldn’t budge.

“We’ll have to crawl under it.”

Noah didn’t act like he heard me. I went first, leaving the blanket over Noah. I swept away glass as I went and bits of blackened debris stuck to my skin. Smears of red were left behind when I brushed it off. My hips got stuck and I had to twist my legs to get free. It was hotter on the other side of the door. I squinted against the heat and buried my mouth into my sleeve to filter out the smoke. I turned around to help Noah through the opening.

Off to the right, the hallway was a tunnel of fire. Flames whirled, fed by split pipes overhead. Water poured out of busted lines only to evaporate into a plume of steam. The heat stung my face and lips. I had to turn away.

We crawled and the blackened chunks around us began to take shape. A finger, an ear, and then an arm. A plastic doll head had melted to a hand. Figures emerged from the flames. Like black wraiths, bodies still on fire, eyes gone, lips burned away, leaving them with white grins. I pulled the blanket completely over our heads. I didn’t want to see the death march happening around us and the air was getting hotter. In the heat the cold blanket turned into a sauna.