Our Kingdom of Dust (15 page)
Lisa was in a coma, and she’d lost a lot of blood. A surgeon performed a clean amputation of her arm in the E.R. There was too much damage to the nerves and muscle, and it wasn’t worth risking infection for the slight chance that a reattachment would be successful.
The doctors gave her a 50/50 chance of surviving past the first day. When that day passed and Lisa was still alive, they said they didn’t know if she’d ever come out of the coma. And if she did come out, she might have serious cognitive impairments.
But she was strong. I couldn’t believe someone could fight so hard through so much pain.
Even though she was still in a coma, after a week the doctors said she was stable enough to be moved out of the Intensive Care Unit. So they transferred her into a nice, sunny, single room. It was on the second floor of the hospital and overlooked a large grassy field. I decorated the room with Disney princess stuff. The staff were all great about me staying there, procuring me a cot and blankets, which was much nicer than the chair I’d been sleeping on in the ICU.
Once she came out of the coma, we’d talk as much as she was able, or I’d read to her, or we’d people-watch out the window, or we’d just sit there, staring at each other. It was like being on a date 24/7. Luckily, everything about her was just as amazing as I’d hoped it would be, and any doubts I’d had about loving her disappeared pretty quickly.
I did cry a lot those first few weeks. I cried when they pulled the tube out of her throat, cried when she came out of the coma, and cried when she turned to me, recognized me, and said my name. The worst was when she finally realized her arm was gone.
“Blaine?” she said, waking me. Her voice was slurring from all the pain meds.
“Hey, Lisa,” I said, leaning over the bed. “How’re you doing, beautiful?”
“Blaine, I can feel my arm, but I can’t move it.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
“I can’t see it, either. Is it under the covers? Can you lift up the blankets for me?”
“Lisa, your arm is gone. They had to amputate it.”
“What? Why?” She started crying. “Why would they do that to me?”
“It was Jay, remember? He hit it with that castle statue.”
“I don’t remember…” she said, drifting off slightly.
“Shit,” I said.
I didn’t know what to do. Should I be telling her this? Was she going to freak out? Should I get a counselor down here or something?
“Blaine?” she said, slightly more alert.
“Yeah?”
“What about my EPCOT Center tattoos? I’m missing half of EPCOT now.”
“It’ll be fine, we’ll get it sorted out somehow. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks, Blaine.”
“No problem. Go back to sleep, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, and drifted back to sleep.
Yeah, I cried for hours after that.
But from there things got better. It was a slow but steady progression as she was able to stay awake longer, speak more, and eventually move around. Her lost arm seemed to concern everyone else a lot more than it concerned her. They told us that as soon as her stump healed they could fit her with a prosthetic arm. She didn’t seem interested until I told her that it’d be a good way to complete her EPCOT Center tattoo set again.
--
Over the course of those three months in the hospital I only left Lisa’s side to go to the bathroom and eat.
Except once, when Charles came to visit two days after the incident, carrying a suitcase, a small shoebox with holes cut into it, and The Queen’s box. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept for days.
“Hey, Charles! Nice to see you! You look like crap, though.”
“You’re not looking so good yourself, Mr. McKinnon. But it is nice to see you, too.”
“No ‘Mr. McKinnon’, Charles. You’re off the clock, remember?”
He smiled slightly, nodded, and went to Lisa’s bedside. He watched her breath for a bit, the tube still down her throat at this point. “How’s the little lady?”
“Not really sure yet, to be honest. She’s had a lot of blood loss and they don’t know how that’s affected her brain. But, she’s alive.”
“Such a tragedy. You’re lucky you got out unharmed,” he said.
“Yeah, I suppose. Sorry about your statue, though.”
“Oh, never mind that. It seems so unimportant now.”
He turned to the pile of stuff he’d walked in with.
“Well, I brought everything you asked for. Your little lizard friend was right where you said he’d be, sunning himself on that balcony. I’m not sure the hospital staff would approve, though.”
I opened the shoebox. It sure looked like Bill the Lizard. I put my finger in there and he bit onto it. Yep, it was him.
“Hey, Bill!” I said. I walked him over to the window, opened it, and set him on the ledge so he could find bugs and get some sun.
Charles slowly handed me The Queen’s box.
“Luckily I found this before anyone else did. Are you sure you want it?”
“Not really,” I said, taking the box from him and opening the lid. The notepad was still inside.
“Please don’t read it, Blaine. I wish to God I hadn’t. It’s ghastly. I can’t sleep. To think I took that stuff….”
I opened the notepad, flipped past the first page, and read the ingredients for The Dust.
It was, as Jay had warned me, truly, truly horrible. Horrible beyond what I’d imagined.
I closed the notepad slowly and looked over at Charles, now completely understanding the pain I saw in his eyes.
“Stay with her for a few minutes?” I asked, standing up.
“Take your time,” he said.
I took the notepad, walked down to the hospital’s magazine stand, bought a lighter, and went outside. Standing in the street, I held the notepad between two fingers, flicked the lighter underneath it, and set it aflame. When it was burning good and bright I dropped it onto the ground and stood there, waiting until it was all ashes. I went back in, and sat down next to Charles.
“Looks like I’ll be making a few calls to some associates in Anaheim,” I said to him.
“Anaheim?”
“Jay told me there’s someone out there who’s been making The Dust.”
“Oh, no,” said Charles.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “If I need to I’ll spend every last cent I have to track this person down and make sure all traces of the recipe are destroyed. And if that person has given the recipe to someone else, I’ll track them down, too. I can make more money pretty easily, but I won’t able to sleep soundly until I can be sure The Dust is never, ever, made again.”
Charles put his arm around me.
“You’re a good man, Blaine McKinnon. A good man. I’m proud to call you my friend.”
“Thanks, Charles. That means a lot.”
We sat there, looking at Lisa, face bruised and swollen, a stump where her left arm used to be, a tube coming out of her throat. Even through all of that, she was radiantly beautiful.
“I don’t think I’m just high on the idea of loving her, like you said I might be. I think I really love her.”
He nodded. “I believe you do.”
“I hope she’s having good dreams,” I said.
“I’m sure she is. She looks very peaceful.”
We watched her for what seemed like hours, until I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, he was gone.
We’ve stayed good friends with Charles. He used to come visit us pretty regularly, but he’s been having spine problems, probably from standing all day and carrying peoples’ luggage, so he can’t travel as often. We still make it a point to go down to Orlando to see him at least once a year, though. And he still sends cards on the holidays. He’s doing great. Still working at Disney after twenty-five years (they gave him a Tinker Bell statue for that one), married to Clarabelle, “the cutie” from the gift shop, and… happy.
Belinda and Michael visited a few days after Lisa came out of her coma. Belinda was definitely showing now, which was awesome.
“Hey, I didn’t know Jabba the Hutt had a sister!” I said, hugging her, and shaking Michael’s hand.
“Blaine!” said Michael, scolding me, but unable to keep himself from laughing.
“You two are terrible!” said Belinda, turning to Lisa. “And how are you doing, dear?”
“Belinda?” she asked, groggily.
“It’s me, dear.”
“A baby?” asked Lisa, looking at Belinda’s stomach.
“A baby,” said Belinda.
“Oh, so happy,” said Lisa. She dozed off.
Belinda touched Lisa’s face.
“Such a sweet girl,” she said.
“They keep her knocked out most of the time,” I said. “They say her body needs the rest.”
“What’s her prognosis look like?” asked Michael.
“It changes every day,” I said. “I don’t think these doctors have any clue, to be honest. Every day they tell me she won’t be able to do something, and a few weeks later she does it.”
“She’s had such a hard life,” said Michael. “We’re just happy that you’re here for her. Most guys would’ve bolted and never looked back.”
“You didn’t,” I said. “I thought about you two a lot those few first days in here. It was tough, and yeah, there were times when I wanted to run. But I figured, hell, if Michael and Belinda made it through all the shit that life threw at them, maybe Lisa and I have some chance of making it through this.”
Michael put his arm around Belinda, and they both smiled at me.
“Enough of this sappy crap!” I said, “Tell me about the damn kid, already!”
“They say it’s in perfect health,” she said. “I was so worried. I was still on The Dust that first month before I realized I was pregnant, and…. I don’t know if I could have handled it if The Dust had harmed the baby somehow. We’ve already been through so much…..”
“I’m really happy for you,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said, nudging Michael. “Ask him!”
“Ask me what?”
“Blaine,” said Michael, “we’d like you to be the baby’s Godfather.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I said. “Of course! Yeah, I’d be honored!”
“Being a Godfather means you’re there throughout the child’s life to provide guidance, and to be a moral compass,” said Belinda. “Which means you can’t curse like that around your Godson!”
“That’s fine,” I said, “I’d been meaning to work on that anyway. No more profanities! I’ll start a curse jar and give the money to the baby! Ten dollars for each curse!”
Five months later I stood next to Belinda and Michael as their baby boy, Adam, was baptized. Afterwards I handed Belinda a check for ten-thousand dollars.
“From my curse jar,” I said. “Obviously I’ve been less than successful. But fuck it. If the kid’s gotta learn those words from someone, he might as well learn them from a pro!”
Adam was a beautiful baby, and I was thrilled to be his Godfather.
But there was something very wrong with him.
For one thing, he never cried. He smiled constantly. And while that might sound like every parent’s dream child, it was actually kinda creepy. You couldn’t tell when he was hungry, or when his diaper was dirty, or anything, because he never cried. He just sat starving in his own shit and piss, grinning like a maniac.
Even stranger was that every once in a while, in the right light, his eyes sparkled like they had pieces of glitter in them. I knew I wasn’t imagining this because Lisa noticed it, too. In fact, she felt really uncomfortable around Adam. Wouldn’t hold him or anything.
Belinda and Michael put up a good front, but I could tell they knew something was wrong. After a while I started to notice that I never saw Belinda without a glass of booze in her hand.
I hoped to hell Adam was going to be okay. For his sake and for Belinda’s.
Nobody had heard from Theresa Skywalker since she’d supposedly run off with Troy Bolton, so I ended up contacting Disney Cruise Line to try to track the two of them down. After a lot of convincing, they gave me the phone number for Troy’s supervisor on Disney Wonder. I called and talked to the guy, who confirmed that Troy, aka Sam Katz, was working on the ship in the entertainment division. But he’d never heard of Theresa.
I left my contact info and asked the supervisor to have Troy/Sam get in touch with me. He never did. But a few weeks later I got a postcard in the mail. There was a picture of Castaway Cay on the front, Disney’s private island in The Bahamas.
Hi Blaine!
I’ve been living the life of luxury on a cruise ship with my new husband, Sam Katz, aka Troy
Bolton
! Wanted to let you know I was okay – sorry I ran off like that without telling anyone. Was so excited to finally find my true love!
Hope you’re doing well. Miss you!
Love,
Theresa Katz
“At least she’s okay,” I said, as I handed it to Lisa.
“That doesn’t look like her handwriting,” she said. “She used to dot her ‘i’s with little hearts.”
“Weird,” I said.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that something didn’t jive. If Theresa was really married to Sam and living on that ship, the supervisor definitely should have known who she was. I called the guy back.
“Hey, I thought you told me you didn’t know Theresa?” I said to the supervisor. “I just got a postcard from her saying she’s living on the ship and is married to Sam Katz.”
“I think I would have known if an employee was married to someone on this ship,” said the supervisor.
“Yeah, no shit,” I said. “That’s why this doesn’t make sense. Look, can you go get this Sam dude and let me talk to him?”
The supervisor didn’t say anything.
“Hello?” I said. “Seriously, this is freaking me out.”
“Sam Katz is no longer aboard this ship,” said the supervisor.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“He didn’t return from one of our port excursions in The Bahamas.”
“Uh… okay. When did this happen?”
“A few days after we last talked.”
“So you told him I was looking for Theresa?”
“I did.”
“And you don’t think it’s a bit odd that he fucking disappeared a few days later?”
“This is an ongoing investigation, sir. I’m afraid I can’t discuss it with you any further.”
He hung up the phone.
“Goddammit!” I yelled.
I tried for days to get in touch with someone at Disney who could give me information about Sam Katz. Nobody would talk. I even ended up calling the FBI, who said the same thing: “We’re not at liberty to discuss ongoing investigations.”
Eventually I contacted the Orlando Sentinel. They’d actually published a silly little article about Theresa years ago, sort of like the one they’d written about Jay. The author of the piece remembered Theresa immediately and was extremely interested in what I had to say. He knew some lower-level Cast Members on the ship and ended up getting a few of them to talk anonymously.
Apparently Theresa had been on the ship, but only for a few days. Then she’d just vanished.
“People disappear from cruise ships a lot more often than you’d imagine,” said one Cast Member. “Most of them are jumpers. We figured that’s what’d happened to her. It was just weird that nobody said anything, and nobody ever came looking for her.”
The next day this story was on the front page, and it spread like crazy.
But Disney refused to budge. They wouldn’t talk. They wouldn’t release their security camera footage from the deck of the ship. Hell, they wouldn’t even acknowledge that Theresa was ever a passenger on the ship!
After a few weeks the story died down, and that was the end of it. After that, nobody seemed interested in finding out what had happened to either one of them.
There is a warrant out for Sam Katz’s arrest. I hold out hope that he’ll turn up someday. Maybe he’ll commit some petty crime and get caught, or screw over the wrong person and end up in the hospital with broken knees, or whatever. Because as it stands, he’s the only one who knows for sure what happened to Theresa Skywalker.
Did she jump because he broke up with her, and she didn’t have any Dust to stave off the loneliness? Or did she get on his nerves so badly that he pushed her overboard?
Maybe it doesn’t matter. Because either way, that sad, sweet girl didn’t deserve to end up at the bottom of the ocean.