Soulshine (21 page)

Michelle opened her eyes suddenly. It was early evening. She had been asleep for eight hours. “We"re going to crash!” she exclaimed.

“Take it easy, sweetheart.”
“Evan… Evan, is that you? Are you alright?”
She felt a gentle touch on her forearm. “It"s me… Nurse

Connie.” Michelle acclimated herself to her surroundings and recognized the inside of the hospital trauma unit where Mabel had brought her.

“Mabel?”
“No, honey. Mabel went home for the day. I"m Connie. My shift started in the afternoon. I"ve been looking in on you along with Mabel. You just woke from a bad dream. We were hoping you would have a good sleep and it seems like you did for most of the past eight hours.”
“I was dreaming about Chicago and how we drove from there into Canada. We were planning on going to Quebec City for the winter carnival. It was a good dream until I crashed into the tree. Evan wouldn"t have gotten hurt if it wasn"t for me. I never drove on icy roads before.”
“It"s okay, honey. It was just a dream.”
“No, it was all real. I remember the road we were on… just outside of Ottawa. Evan"s leg got pinned against the tree and… did he die or did I just dream that he died?”
“If you"re talking about your friend that was supposed to be admitted here… he wasn"t in the ambulance that brought you here.”
“He wasn"t? Yes… he was. My father killed him, didn"t he? That wasn"t a dream, was it?”
“A man did fire a gun into the ambulance but there wasn"t anybody shot.”
“Yes, there was. Evan"s leg started turning to ashes after the accident, but after he got shot his whole body turned to… ashes,” Michelle sobbed.
“Listen, honey. There"s a lady who would like to talk to you about everything… the accident, the ambulance ride, the shooting… everything. She"s a doctor… a psychologist. She wanted to know when you were rested and awake. Are you up for that?”
“Why does she want to talk about it?”
“It"s her job. She"s very nice. She may be able to sort out which parts of your dreams are real and which are not. Here… take this cup of water. You can use some fluids.”
Michelle took the cup and sipped. “Thank you… and I already know that the whole dream was real.”
“I believe you,” said Dr. Barrett as she entered the trauma unit. “I"d still like to hear about it. It would be good for you to talk about it.”
“I"ll leave you two alone. I have other patients I need to see,” said Connie.
Dr. Barrett sat down beside Michelle"s bed. “My name is Liz. And you are Michelle?”
“Yes.”
“You"ve been through a lot today, Michelle. You were hysterical earlier this morning due to a traumatic experience involving a gunman. That"s a perfectly normal response.”
“My husband was killed.”
“I can tell that you
believe
that you have a husband and that he was killed by the gunman. Sometimes when we are traumatized, we start believing things that cannot possibly be true.”
“It
is
true. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Michelle… you"re simply not old enough to have a husband. Do you know why you might believe that you do?”
“Well… we never got married in a church but we"ve been together for over ten years.”
Liz gave a reassuring smile. “How old are you, Michelle?”
“I"m… twenty-nine.”
Liz ran her hand through Michelle"s hair to remove any possible feelings she may have that she is being interrogated. “Michelle… how old are you really? Thirteen? Fourteen?”
“I"m twenty-nine.”
“Michelle, in order for me to help you, you need to be completely honest with me. Why do you lie about your age? Do your parents put a lot of responsibility on you?”
Michelle scrambled for her purse next to her on the bed and pulled out her license with her photo and birth date on it. “Maybe this will help you see that I am not lying to you.”
Liz looked at the photo with the birth date and then looked back at Michelle. “How did you get this?”
“When I registered for my license, they took my picture. Then whenever I renewed my license, they would take a new picture of me.”
“This is an American license from the state of… California. Is that where you are from?”
“I was born in Rhode Island.”
“I"m not a policewoman, so you can tell me in confidence… is this a real license or is it a counterfeit?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course it"s real. How would I know how to produce a counterfeit driver"s license?”
“So you"re telling me that it"s real.”
“Yes… I am.”
“And I believe you, Michelle. Let"s go to my office where we can talk in private. I want to make sure that you"re going to be okay after everything you went through today.”

Evan left the sundry shop after another day"s work. He enjoyed a job where he could be himself. He still loved the theater and visited The Providence Repertory a couple of times since arriving in Riverside, meeting Kim on one of the occasions. But there was something very refreshing at being able to do a job without putting on a performance. He especially liked working the soda fountain and chatting with the kids while serving them.

A group of young people were hanging around the outside of the store as he stepped onto the sidewalk. They always had a lot to say to Evan, and he always made the time for them. This day, he planned on taking a walk up to the amusement park, not to mingle with the crowd but to sit on the pier after closing time to be alone with his thoughts. Amongst the chatter of the children came a soft voice that automatically drowned out all the other conversation.

As Evan looked at Michelle standing to the side of him, it seemed like everything else melted into the background, except for the song playing on the transistor radio he was carrying.
Michelle, ma belle. These are words that go together well, my Michelle.
“Michelle… it"s so nice to see you.”

“I need to pick up some things for my mother. I was hoping you were working.”
“I just ended my shift. I was just heading to the pier to sit and listen to the waves.”
Michelle pictured the peaceful setting in hermind. “That sounds nice. I wish I could go.”
Evan wanted to invite Michelle to go with him, but then thought otherwise. “Your mother would be wondering where her packages went.”
“Yes… she would… and I would get in trouble.”
“Well, as always, Michelle, I"m glad I got to see you again today. You really do brighten up my day.”
“If I need to come to the store tomorrow, I"ll make sure I come earlier,” she said as she pressed her lips together shyly. Then she nervously blinked her eyes as she entered the store. Evan watched her go inside, and then he started walking toward the park.
As he got to the pier, all he could think about was Michelle.
Why do I keep thinking about her? She’s just a kid with a crush. Still… why does my heart feel captive?

Michelle did her best to hide her nervousness as she showed her passport to the customs agent at the Ontario border. “Here it is.”

The agent looked at the passport and then at Michelle. “Do you have a photo id?”
“I have a driver"s license.” Michelle scrambled into her purse. “Here it is.”
The agent grabbed it and compared the photo to Michelle"s face. Then he looked at the license again to verify the date of birth. At Evan"s suggestion, Michelle had put on a lot of makeup. It had bothered her since she had applied it some miles back at a restaurant. She was not used to wearing makeup of any kind. But the makeup, especially the eye shadow, and a knit hat, along with a cushion to make her appear taller behind the wheel of the Camaro RS, helped cast enough doubt in the customs agent"s mind for him not to question her age. “What is your purpose for entering the country?”
“I"m meeting my family in Quebec.”
“How long do you plan on staying in the country?”
“A few months… long enough to see the winter carnival.”
The agent gave a cursory glance into the back seat of the car. “Are you bringing anything into the country?”
“Just my luggage.”
“Any goods from the United States such as tobacco, alcohol or firearms?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well. Have a nice visit with your family.”
Michelle drove away from the booth in a sweat. Her hands were shaking. She did not realize that customs agents do not do intense searches on people who appear harmless… and Michelle was cute as a button, even with all the makeup. After driving another few miles, she pulled into a truck stop. She parked in the most remote part of the truck stop, stepped out of the car, looked around carefully, and then she opened the trunk.
“Are you okay in there?”
“Of course,” said Evan as he was curled up in a fetal position inside the trunk, “though it seemed like an eternity. I don"t know how we"ll ever pull this off when we try to go by ship to Europe.”
“I just appreciate you coming to the winter carnival with me.”
“No problem at all for the one I love,” groaned Evan as he gingerly climbed out of the trunk. “It"s a good thing I eat the right foods and take care of myself. A man my age could mess up his back contorting himself like that.”
“You"re so funny.”
“Well, at least it will be a few months until we have to pull the same stunt on the way back into the States.”
“Yeah, and we can take our time getting to Quebec City. The carnival isn"t until February.”
“Quebec City in frosty February… I can hardly wait.”
“I"ll keep you nice and warm.”
“Ah… I knew there would be a benefit to this trip. We"re a long way from Hawaii… or even California,” said Evan wishfully. “Nevertheless, I enjoy fulfilling your wishes, Michelle. It"s part of the curse of being absolutely and completely in love with the woman of one"s dreams. So… no problem at the customs booth, I take it?”
Michelle smiled impishly. “No problem at all. The customs agent obviously didn"t see me sweating bullets.” Then she goton her toes and put her arms around Evan"s shoulders. “I love you, Evan.”
“I love you,too, Michelle.”

“It"s so strange, Liz. That"s the last thing I recall before the accident. I think it"s because I blocked out a lot.”
“That"s normal,” said Liz as she sat on her office chair facing Michelle, who was leaning back on the couch. “Most people in traumatic accidents tend to block out not only the unpleasant event, but also the moments leading up to the event. So it sounds like your adventure across the border was a pleasant experience.”
“Oops… I shouldn"t have told you that, should I?”
“That"s okay. I"m not a customs agent and I don"t believe you are any threat to our national security.”
“That"s a relief.”
“Michelle… can you give me the exact date you were born?”
“April 29, 1954.”
“You answered quickly and you were completely unprepared for the question. That leads me to believe that you have been honest about your age.”
“I told you I wasn"t lying.”
“A courier came by this afternoon and dropped off records from Ottawa General Hospital of both you and Evan. The doctors are not at all surprised that you claim that Evan"s body disintegrated into ashes. They confirmed that they also witnessed some similar deterioration while he was a patient there before he was transported here.” Michelle"s eyes watered as Liz spoke. “I"m sorry, Michelle. I know the last thing you want to do is relive the whole thing, but I bring it up only to tell you that I believe everything you say, incredible as it may be.”
“Thanks,” said Michelle as she tried to compose herself.
“So… that was your father who…”
“Yes,” sobbed Michelle. “I don"t know why he didn"t listen to my mother. She tried to tell him that Evan and I loved each other.”
“How are
you
doing, Michelle?”
Michelle wanted to stay at Fletcher University Hospital no longer, so she wasdetermined to put on a brave front. “I"m… okay, Liz. I have fully accepted what happened. I want to thank everyone here for being so kind to me. My talk with you has proven to me that I am able to go on and deal with everything that happened.”
“If you would like to stay overnight, you may. In fact, I would recommend it. Your records also reveal that you are two weeks pregnant. After so much stress, it would be a good idea to be tested… especially for the baby. If all is fine… as I expect it to be… you should be able to leave tomorrow. Of course… the decision to stay overnight and get checked out is completely yours. You have not been admitted under our care. I"m just very concerned.”
“Thanks,” said Michelle. “I have no idea where I would go tonight anyway. A fresh start tomorrow would be better. You"ve been… just like a mother to me, Liz. Your kindness makes me look forward to going back home and seeing my mother again.”
“That"s good to hear, Michelle. I"m glad we were able to help. I was also concerned that you may feel some false guilt toward your father and blame yourself. Right now you need to distance yourself from your father and let your mother deal with his situation. Being there for your mother is the best thing you can do. Once we check out the physical health of you and your baby, I see no reason why I shouldn"t give you a clean mental bill of health so you can be properly released and get back home to your mother.”

“Hey, Fleming. We got some good news and some bad news for you.”
John looked up from his bunk and saw the police sergeant standing outside the cell. “What more good news could I
possibly
receive today?”
“I take it you want the good news first then. You"re leaving us, Fleming.”
“Wonderful. I"d like to find my daughter. Does anyone here know where I can find her?”
“Whoa. Slow down, Pistol Pete. You opened fire on an ambulance outside a hospital emergency area. You expect to be let free?”
“Contradictions… first you tell me I"m leaving this hell hole. So what"s the bad news… sir?”
“We"re handing you over to the U.S. authorities. They"re coming for you today. We need the space for our own sickos.”
“Look… I am
not
a sicko. The sicko is the one who drugged and kidnapped my daughter.”
“You can take that story and stick it where it belongs. We talked to the hospital psychologist. Your daughter does not back up that claim. Besides, she has nothing to fear now with the
alleged
abductor out of the picture, does she?”
“She was obviously brainwashed. But yes, the abductor
is
out of the picture, and that means more to me than words could possibly express.”
“You know… I hope you keep talking like that… just so the charge of attempted homicide will stick to you like a fly on shit. Hey, they say that confession is good for the soul.”
“I want to contact a lawyer.”
“Oh, you"ll get that chance… when you"re back in the States.”
“So you think I"m sick, do you? Tell me… why do you think the dearly departed cadaver instantly became a pile of ashes when I shot him? Officer… I didn"t kill a human being… I killed a monster.”
“As much as I"d love to charge you with homicide instead of
attempted
homicide… there was no body in that vehicle.”
“Do ambulances always arrive at the admissions door of that hospital with ashes under a sheet on a gurney, officer? Explain that to me if you will.”
“I don"t need to explain anything to you, so just shut up. It looks to me as if someone knew you would be there, so they took the necessary precautions to foil your attempt.”
“Oh… come on. Then you"re saying that he"s still alive? If he is alive, then my daughter deserves an Academy Award for her performance when she looked at the ashes. He"s dead, officer, and rightfully so. You said just a minute ago that he is out of the picture… and I deserve a hero"s medal for it.”