WISHBONE (24 page)

“Philip, what is it? What did you say to him?” she stammered.

“I thought I should be the one to tell you that Matt and Lily were killed in a car accident today.”

“Oh my God!” Rachael screamed and clapped a hand to her chest. “Oh no.”  She was stunned.

“Is he alright?” Phil asked of Julien.

“I...I should…I need to go. Thank you for letting us know.”

“I’ll call you in a few—” The phone went dead in Phil’s hand.

Rachael dropped down beside Julien who sat staring across the room.

“Now Julien, this isn’t our fault. They should never have come without telling us.”

Julien turned to look at her in disgust. “What will it take?” Unsteady, he climbed to his feet.

Seconds later, Rachael heard the screen door slam shut and Julien’s footsteps on the gravel passing by the kitchen window outside. She went after him.

“Julien!” she cried. “Julien!” She glanced back at the house not wanting to leave the baby, but she felt compelled to follow him. “What are you doing?” she demanded to know. 

Rachael jogged alongside him as he walked with purpose toward the barn. “What are you doing?” she screamed as she tugged at his arms. 

He ignored her. 

It’s gone far enough!

Where is she?

Julien crossed the bridge pushing past Rachael, who tried to stop him at the far end.  He entered the barn and bellowed,

“SARAH!”

“Leave her be, Julien…” Rachael tried to pull him back out the door, but he was determined.

Julien shook free from his wife’s grasp, went to the chicken coop and swung it open.  Rachael followed him in, crying and pleading for him to stop.

“She’s not here, Julien. She’s gone. She went home.”

“Sarah!” he yelled through the heavy wire out into the trees. He turned around and moved Rachael aside. He rushed back into the barn and returned to the coop with a hatchet. Rachael screamed and kept stepping in front of him, but he continued patiently moving her aside each time. He walked to the far corner of the coop where it met the barn wall and began hacking at the wood, which gradually broke away in small chunks. He used his hands to grip the wire, pulling at it until, one by one, the links popped from their fasteners. He grabbed the hatchet again and cracked through more of the wood.

Rachael continued to scream at the top of her lungs. A handful of chickens escaped through the open door into the barn and she turned to go after them, but changed her mind, heading back to Julien. He continued to tear at the structure with silent determination.

One side was completely free now and Julien tugged at it some more, curling the length of the wire back into the coop. He attempted to herd the chickens toward the opening, chasing after the birds, who took off in all directions, cackling and fluttering about. He managed to get a few through the opening, but most only ran in circles, as the opening was not wide enough for the simple-minded birds to notice. He returned to the curled metal and tugged harder, widening the gap. Again, he tried to herd the chickens, but as he turned away and looked up, he collided with his father’s massive chest.

Jérome brought his menacing fist upward and with one potent blow knocked Julien onto his back, parting the frenetic birds.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The faint sound of birds chirping in the apple orchard brought Julien to consciousness.  His mind danced with incomplete memories of the incident in the coop. It took him a few moments to recall the fine details, as if the event had happened ages ago.

How far did I get?

Did I destroy it?

Are the chickens gone?

No, the girls…a wish…they would wish the coop to be fixed.

Jérome…

He needed to get up, assess yesterday’s damage, and try again to talk sense into Rachael.  Hurriedly, he moved to sit up; he cringed. Confused by what he was feeling, he tried again more cautiously. He lifted himself slowly onto his elbows and looked down. At first, the sight did not register, he was not sure who or what he was seeing. Everything went silent and he felt disconnected. The sight of
it
brought awareness of the pain and he began to pant. He wanted to leap from the bed; get away from it, but it was part of him.

He stared down at his leg encased in the metal apparatus, a fitted cage, embedding screws deep into his flesh. He reached down, panic-stricken and stunned by the sight of the gear. Fearfully, he touched the equipment and quickly realized it was no more removable than it was a hallucination. He fell back against the pillows. A claustrophobic anxiety washing over him, he tried to separate himself from his repulsion and make sense of the development.

The ladder. 

They wished me back to the ladder.

The surgery.

I had the surgery.

He reached overhead and gripped the headboard, pulling himself back so he could sit up and have a better look. He studied the mechanism in disbelief and horror. The rigid equipment ran the entire length of his leg. He looked around the room for crutches or anything he could use as an aid to get up.

“I thought I heard you,” Rachael sang sweetly from the doorway. “How are you feeling?” she asked with a smile.

Julien felt like a caged animal; he was suddenly terrified of her. 

Rachael approached him and bent to kiss the top of his head. He flinched, but she found her mark, seeming to not notice her husband’s trepidation. 

Her expression was soft and reminiscent. He wondered if she had come to her senses and wished to erase all of their mistakes, returning him to his state prior to their first turn at the game.

I want to trust her.

Don’t trust her.

“Up. I need to get up,” he mumbled groggily. He needed to get out of the room and look for the baby. He was afraid to ask.

“No, no. You can’t,” she informed him. “You need to rest. You can go as far as that bathroom, but no stairs.”

“The bathroom…” The more he tried to speak, the more he realized how weak he was.

Rachael went to the closet and produced a pair of crutches. “C’mon,” she said. “I’ll help you.”

The sound of the baby crying down the hall reached them. His heart sank.

The baby is still here.

She could not have wished us back to the ladder incident.

Why would she do this to me?

“Shit, I’ll be right back. Don’t get up without me,” she insisted, placing the crutches on the floor beside the bed and rushing from the room.

For a brief moment he had felt hope, believed he might have gotten through to her. He would have dealt with
repeated
surgeries in exchange for that.

Reaching down, he searched blindly for the crutches on the floor. He managed to get hold of them. He took a deep breath then exhaled, preparing himself for the worst. He managed to sit up, confronting the device with a much closer inspection; its screws disappearing into him, he grimaced in disgust. 

It would be worth it to erase the wrongs.

But she didn’t.

Why?

Any reason to do
this
to him, other than to erase their mistakes was unfathomable. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about it now. He manually slid his leg from the bed, moaning more for the anticipation than actual pain. He saw paperwork on the nightstand and picked it up, hoping for a clue.

Scanning a pink sheet first…
Hospital discharge papers.

I did have the surgery…?

A yellow sheet of thicker bond paper…
Caring for Your External Fixation Device.

He studied the illustrations and tried to comprehend the information. The apparatus reminded him of an
Erector Sets
he had as a child. It fastened to the entire length of his leg through a series of circular halos, pins and screws jutting out in various directions, attaching to the framework. He tossed the paperwork onto the floor and slumped forward feeling defeated.

Pourquoi, Rachael?

Why would you do this to me?

Rachael returned to the bedroom. “I think she’ll be okay for a few minutes,” she announced, motioning down the hall to the baby’s room before returning to Julien’s side.

He looked up at her. “Why do you do this to me, Rachael?” he asked despondently.

Rachael was taken aback. “Jules…what are you talking about?” She placed a hand under his chin. “Dr. Lind told you they would need to do surgery. When Dr. Ptak came out to talk to me, I wasn’t given a choice. He had no choice.”

He angrily pulled away from her, looking away and shaking his head. He felt hopeless, he was too tired to make heads or tails of the situation and he knew that asking would get him nowhere. She was lying to him now and she would continue to lie. Overcome with indignation, he held both crutches in one hand, using the other hand to brace himself against the nightstand.

Rachael took his arm, but he shrugged himself free. “I’ve got it,” he declared. “Just go take care of the baby.”

“She’s quiet now.” Rachael pouted.

“Well, I’ve got this. Go do somethings.”

“It’s your first time getting up,” she said sadly. “I am not leaving you alone.”

He ignored her and steadied himself before purposefully avoiding her and heading into the bathroom. He closed the door and grabbed onto the sink, irritably tossing the crutches to the ground.

Startled by the crash, Rachael inquired, “Are you okay?” She moved closer and tapped lightly against the wood with a knuckle. “Jules?”

Julien did not respond, but the baby began to wail. She reluctantly backed away from the bathroom door then went to the nursery.

Julien braced himself against the wall and studied the mirror, examining his reflection.  All the bruising from the fight with his father was gone. He tried to put the pieces together.

I’m like this…

The baby still exists…

There is no remnant of the fight…

Rachael is not angry...

It doesn’t make sense. 

Nothing is making sense.

He could have been staring at a stranger; eyes set in dark circles, his face gaunt and his hair considerably grayer. He splashed water on his face then turned to grab a towel hanging behind him. Clumsily, the apparatus caught the lip of the sink. He felt bone shift, as the metal jerked free from the porcelain fixture.

The excruciating sensation allowed him an immediate understanding of how the device was attached; there was no mistaking what he was dealing with now. For a moment, he thought he would lose consciousness, vomit or both, but he fought against the urge and the internal vibration within his leg gradually waned. He finished his morning routine more carefully and to the best of his hampered ability. 

Leaving the bathroom, he expected to find Rachael waiting for him, but the room was empty.  He moved slowly out into the hallway where he stopped by the nursery—also empty. At the top of the stairs, he listened for Rachael down below. He could hear her in the kitchen. The staircase had never seemed so long and steep as it did at that moment. He figured out how to descend and took it one risky step at a time, all the while trying not to alert Rachael to his approach. He reached the bottom winded, and with hardly enough strength to make it to the dining room table a few feet away. He managed, and sat for a moment before lighting a cigarette.

He weakly called out to her, “Rachael…” She appeared in the doorway with the baby.

“You weren’t supposed to come downstairs,” she said, approaching him and petting on him like a child. She looked at the staircase then back at him. “How the hell…and you shouldn’t be smoking.” She tried to catch the cigarette, but he moved his hand through the air out of reach and she shrugged it off, instead fixing his hair lovingly.

Julien kept repeating the same details to himself, longing to figure out a plan, but continuously coming up empty.

What is this?

The surgery is real, the baby is still here and Rachael is being kind.

“Did they give me anything?” he asked. He wanted to see a pill bottle with a doctor’s name, hospital…something tangible.

“Anything…?” she repeated, moving the baby out of the wafting smoke.

“Pain, Rachael. Medication?” 

“Oh my gosh…
yes
, of course.” She rushed off and returned with two bottles. “One’s an antibiotic. I’ll get you some water.”

“Café,” he corrected.

She paused to argue then thought better of it before briefly disappearing into the kitchen.  She returned with his coffee. “I can’t sit here with you if you’re going to smoke,” she declared, motioning to Jessica.

He glared at her. “Don’t then. You don’t have to sit here with me.” He would not give her the satisfaction. “Get the baby away from here.
Go
.” He shooed her with a waving cigarette clasped between two fingers.

Rachael thoughtfully chewed her lip then moved to open the front door, allowing a warm breeze to flow through the room.

“You were asleep for days,” she told him, attempting to make conversation. “You should have started those antibiotics two days ago.”

Julien swallowed three pills with a swig of coffee.

“The chickens?” he asked drunkenly.

Rachael, puzzled responded, “What about them?”

“They’re out there…in the coop?”

She laughed. “Yes, why wouldn’t they be?”

“I don’t know. I thought they might have gotten out…run away.”

“Julien, are you all right?” she probed. She moved closer to him and placed her hand to his forehead. “I really don’t think you should have come down here. It’s too soon…”

His first thought was to slap her hand away, but he didn’t. “No,” he snarled and jerked away from her hand, “I’m
not
all right.

Rachael’s expression slowly dissolved into a frown. “I know Jules,” she conceded. “A couple of months, honey, and you’ll be back on that bike.” She put forth her best effort to encourage him, and glanced at the motorcycle parked in the driveway. Randall moved past her view heading for their porch. In a hurry, she left Julien, who was grateful for the distance but wondered what the sudden urgency was about.