A Future and a Hope

She replied swiftly, eagerly, without hesitation. “Yes!”

  Taking the ring from its container, he reached for her left hand. She was visibly trembling. He slipped the diamond onto her ring finger and stood to his feet. Tears trickled down her face, leaving faint streaks of mascara visible in the dim light.

  Ellie wrapped both arms around his neck as he pulled her to him. Her lips met his in a long, passionate kiss. For several minutes, they stood in a silent embrace. Neither one of them spoke. Neither had to.

  It was the most wonderful moment of Caleb’s life, and he reveled in it. His emotions washed over him like the gentle swells of the ocean.

  As they left the park arm in arm, joy seemed to float Caleb down the sidewalk. They headed blissfully back to the restaurant three blocks away.

  Each time they passed a streetlamp, Ellie held up her hand to admire the rock that gleamed on her finger. And each time, Caleb let out a familiar “Wahoo!” that echoed off the buildings on either side of the street.

  The faint sound of a police siren arrested Caleb’s ears. It came from behind them. He glanced back as they came to an intersection, and he pushed the button to cross the side street. As the wailing siren grew louder and louder, the green “WALK” sign lit up and they stepped into the crosswalk.

  They were nearly to the other side when the sharp screeching of tires caused them both to stop and whirl around.

  A car slid into view around the corner and barreled down the street toward them, followed closely by a patrol car in hot pursuit, its red and blue strobes flashing ominously off the facades of the buildings. At the intersection, the fleeing driver lost control of the vehicle.

  Caleb had only a split second to react. He threw himself at Ellie.

  Then everything went black.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MY FIANCÉE IS MISSING!

  BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

  The rhythmic, soothing tone pierced the ghost-like fog in Caleb’s brain. Faint, but steady.

  Perhaps it was his cell phone informing him that he had a message. Ellie had probably called while he was asleep.

  Now where was that phone? Why couldn’t he find it?

  And why was his room so dark?

  He stirred slightly. Pain shot through him.

  He lay still for a moment, trying to shake the haze that drifted through his mind. Stirring again, the pain returned, flooding his whole body.

  I must’ve gotten beat up pretty good in last night’s game, he thought.

  Funny that he couldn’t remember who the Bearcats’ opponent was. The Arlington Tigers? Madison Central? He had no memory of the game whatsoever.

  So this is what a concussion feels like! He blinked open his eyes and glanced around the semi-darkened room. Even his eyeballs ached.

  Why was everything so blurry? And why was the bedroom window to the left of his bed instead of at the foot where it was supposed to be?

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  My phone! Gotta find my phone and check Ellie’s message. She’ll be wanting to know how I’m doing this morning.

  Caleb struggled to turn toward his nightstand where the beeping cell phone must be. Searing pain cut through his torso like a hot knife, and he fell back on the pillow with a gasp. As he waited for his head to clear, he became aware of movement in the room.

  His parents’ anxious faces appeared in front of him.

  He was not in his bedroom. He was in a hospital room. And the steady beeping he’d mistaken for his cell phone was the sound of the monitor to which he was connected. He tried to sweep the remaining cobwebs from his brain.

  The corners of his mother’s mouth curled up in a soft, but relieved smile. “Don’t try to move, Caleb. Just lie still.”

  The confusion in his mind manifested itself in the question that formed on his chapped lips. “I . . . I don’t remember the game at all.” The hoarseness of his own voice startled him. “Who did we play last night?”

  His father leaned over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t remember, son. Things will start coming back soon enough.”

  A flash of panic shot across Caleb’s mind. “Dad, why am I in the hospital? What happened?”

  His father stole a quick glance at his mother before answering. “Uh . . . you were in an accident, Caleb.”

  “An accident?” The cobwebs began to evaporate. “Then it wasn’t a football game? No, it couldn’t be. That was way back in high school.” He shook his head slightly, sending a twinge of pain down his spine. For the first time he felt the brace around his neck. “What kind of accident?”

  This time he noticed the exchanged glances. “You were hit by a car, son,” his father explained.

  “A car? When? Where?”

  At that moment the door opened and the nurse on duty entered the room in response to the call button which had been activated by his father. She went immediately to Caleb’s side.

  “Well, I see our patient is finally awake.” She smiled at him and began checking the equipment to which he was attached. She addressed his anxious parents standing on the opposite side of the bed. “I’ve notified Dr. Cavanaugh. He’s on his way. I’m just going to check your son’s vitals here for a moment.”

  Caleb lay still, and silently watched her enter the data into the computer on the bedside cart. The door opened again, and a doctor with a stethoscope peeking out of his pocket entered the dimmed ICU room.

  “Glad to have you back with us, young man.” Dr. Cavanaugh smiled at his patient and introduced himself.

  He asked Caleb and his parents a few questions as the nurse continued updating his information. Caleb answered each question patiently until, unable to stand it any longer, he interrupted the doctor with a question of his own.

  “Dr. Cavanaugh, my dad told me I was in an accident. How bad was it? What are the extent of my injuries? ”

  The doctor studied the computer screen before speaking directly to his patient. “On the nineteenth you were struck by a car. I’m sure your parents can fill you in on those details better than I can. But I’ll tell you this, you’re lucky to be alive, given the level of trauma you’ve experienced. You sustained a severe concussion with some swelling of the brain, a broken left collarbone and left femur, three fractured ribs and left forearm, plus a number of lacerations and abrasions.”

  “Am I going to be all right?”

  “It’s a little early to be exact at this juncture. Your collarbone, ribs, and forearm should mend completely. However, your femur was shattered in two places. We had to perform a surgery called an open reduction internal fixation. That involves inserting a titanium rod into the center of the femur. It supports the bone so that it can heal properly.” He pointed to the apparatus attached to Caleb’s leg. “That external fixation device keeps your leg immobile. You’ll want to remain as stationary as possible for now.”

  Caleb had two more questions for Dr. Cavanaugh, but it was the answer to the second he feared the most. “Is the rod permanent? And will I . . . will I be able to walk again?”

  “Yes to both questions, Caleb,” the doctor quickly replied, assuaging his fears. “The rod stays in place, but you won’t even know it’s there once the leg is fully mended. And I’m confident that with physical therapy you’ll regain nearly full use of that leg. The worst case scenario is that you may walk with a slight limp. Only time will tell.”

  “What about the concussion?” Caleb asked anxiously.

  “The brain trauma was our biggest concern upon your arrival. You experienced an intracerebral hemorrhage and some initial swelling of the surrounding tissue, which caused your coma. But thankfully your CT scans and MRIs determined that surgery was not necessary. Your EEGs and other diagnostics show no permanent damage. You should expect some headaches and blurred vision, and possibly nausea, but these symptoms should diminish over the next few weeks. At this point I don’t foresee any long term effects. All things considered, I’d say you’re doing fairly well for what
you’ve been through. But given the severity of your injuries, I expect you’ll be here for a while.”

  “What about my memory?” Caleb asked. “I don’t remember the accident at all.”

  “Short term memory loss is typical for this type of trauma. But don’t worry. That should come back to you. It could be all at once, but most likely it will be over the course of a few days, as your brain continues to heal. My advice is to be patient.”

  Caleb’s mother spoke up. “He’s already started asking questions about the accident. Should we answer them?”

  Dr. Cavanaugh smiled reassuringly at her. “That’s entirely up to you. As his parents, you’re the best judges of how much information he can handle right now.”

  The doctor turned back to him. “Caleb, on a scale of one to ten, how’s your pain right now?”

  “Well, when I lay still, about a six, maybe. But if I try moving, definitely a ten.”

  “What should that tell you?” The doctor arched his brow.

  “Lay still and don’t move?” Caleb managed a grin.

  “Good answer.” Dr. Cavanaugh smiled and patted Caleb’s shoulder. “I’ll check in on you later this afternoon.”

  He shook hands with Caleb’s parents before leaving the room. The nurse gave Caleb a sip of ice water from a foam cup with a straw through the lid, and then set the cup on the bedside tray.

  “Don’t hesitate to call again if you need anything. I’m right down the hall.” She turned and left the room.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Caleb rephrased his previous question to his parents. “So, what happened? Where was I?”

  His mother scooted her chair closer to the bed and sat down. His father stood beside her with his arm around her shoulders.

  “It happened in Columbus. That’s where we are now. You’re in Good Samaritan Hospital.”

  “What was I doing in Columbus?” His father turned and stared out the window. Caleb urged him to continue. “It’s okay, Dad. I can handle it.”

  “Well, son, you brought Ellie here to celebrate her birthday. And to . . . and to propose to her.”

  Ellie! For the first time since regaining consciousness, thoughts of his fiancée flooded his mind like waves crashing against a craggy shoreline.

  “Where is she? Is she okay? Is she here in the hospital? Why isn’t she here with me?” He looked from his father to his mother and back again. Their faces reflected strain and sadness. A tear broke free and trickled down his mother’s face, and his father squeezed her shoulder.

  As gently and briefly as possible, his father explained how the accident had occurred.

  “Caleb, you and Ellie were apparently heading back to your car when it happened. The police were chasing a stolen vehicle and the driver lost control. From what we’ve been able to gather, you tried to shove her out of the way, but there wasn’t time. The car hit you in the crosswalk and knocked you and Ellie onto the sidewalk. The police said you both narrowly avoided being crushed by the car when it jumped the curb and crashed into the corner building. You were both rushed here in critical condition.”

  Caleb tried putting all the pieces in place. Some of the details were emerging from the fog that still swirled in his brain. It was as if he were working on a difficult jigsaw puzzle without having the picture on the box to use as a guide.

  “Ellie is here? In this hospital? How is she? Is she okay?”

  Again, his father hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he answered his son carefully. “Well, Caleb, she . . . she was here. Earlier.”

  Caleb struggled with that explanation. “What do you mean she was here? Where is she now?” He repeated himself. “Is she okay?”

  Panic rose within him. His mother stifled a sob that sent an icy chill down his spine. Suddenly, it felt as if a two hundred pound weight were sitting squarely on his chest.

  He turned to his father. “Dad! She’s not . . . she’s not . . . is she . . . ?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. It was too painful to say out loud.

  There were tears in his father’s eyes, and his voice cracked as he spoke. “Caleb, I’m sorry, but we just don’t know. She was in bad shape when they brought her here. She had some very serious injuries, like you. Your mom and I have been splitting our time between the two of you, sitting by your bedsides. But three days ago she was moved to another hospital, and we haven’t been able to find out anything since then.”

  “Why not? Can’t you find out how she is? Or where she is?”

  His mother tag teamed for his father.

  “Caleb, one day I went to her room and she was gone. I immediately ran down to the nurse’s station, but all they could tell me was that she had been transferred elsewhere. For the past three days, your father and I have been desperately trying to get some news on her whereabouts and condition. But they said they can’t give out that information.”

  Caleb’s thoughts began to race, reminding him of how painful it was to even think. “Why not? Why can’t they tell you anything? For crying out loud, she’s my fiancée. I have a right to know. I have to know!” He struggled to sit up, but his pain, and his father, forced him into a prone position again.

  “Son,” his father’s voice trembled as he spoke, “we talked with the hospital administrator himself, but all he could tell us was that Ellie had been moved to another facility. He was genuinely apologetic, but he said the hospital’s confidentiality policy would not allow him to give us any more information.”

  Caleb didn’t know a lot about confidentiality laws, but he’d had a few discussions about them with his father.

  “Dad, doesn’t the closest relative usually have the authority to make decisions for those unable to make decisions for themselves?”

  “Yes, in most cases that’s true.”

  “But Ellie has no close relatives. At least none that are involved in her life. We’re the closest thing she has to family.”

  “I know, Caleb, I know. But we don’t have legal power of attorney. Nor are we her appointed health care representatives.”

  Caleb’s voice grew shrill. “Then who made the decision to move her to another hospital? And who made the decision to withhold the release of information to us?” The strain of the conversation was beginning to take its toll.

  “Honey, perhaps you should rest now,” his mother interjected, with a gentle pleading tone in her voice. “We can continue this discussion when you’re a bit stronger.”

  “Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” his father quickly agreed. “Get some rest now, son. In the meantime, we’ll do all we can to find some answers.”

  Perhaps it was his agitated state of mind, or the level of pain that affected his thinking in the moment, but before his parents could attempt any further persuasion, he reached determinedly for the call button dangling next to his pillow. With pain shooting up his arm and into his shoulder, he repeatedly pressed the red button on the end of the cord.

  “Caleb!” his mother protested instinctively, but his father put his hand on her shoulder again and shook his head.

  “Mom, I’ve got to get some answers for myself,” Caleb insisted. “I just can’t lay here and do nothing at all. I’ve got to know what happened to her.”

  The latch on the heavy wooden door turned with a loud click, and the nurse entered the room. He was still pushing the call button.

  “How can I help you?” she asked cheerfully.

  “I need some answers!” Caleb blurted out. “Answers about my fiancée. I need to know how she’s doing and where you’ve taken her.”

  The smile drained from the nurse’s face, and she looked as if she were going to fall over. But she maintained her professionalism and a look of compassion replaced her surprise. She responded to his outburst with a voice as gentle as his own mother’s.

  “Caleb, I understand how badly you want answers. How badly you need answers. And I wish I could give them to you.” She shook her head. “But I can’t. I just can’t. I’m so sorry.”

&nb
sp; “I don’t care about any stupid privacy laws. I have a right to know. She was my fiancée. We got engaged right before the accident. You don’t have to say anything you’re not supposed to say,” he continued, pleading his case. “Just drop a hint or a clue. I’ll figure out the rest. Please, I’m begging you. I need to know about Ellie.”

  The nurse tried to calm him down. “Caleb, even if I were allowed to tell you, I couldn’t.”

  “And why not?” he demanded suspiciously.

  “Because I honestly don’t know her condition. Or where she is. I’m very sorry, Caleb.”

  Her best attempt to calm his rising agitation failed miserably.

  “Well you could find out if you wanted to. There’s got to be somebody here who will tell me. Call the head nurse. Call Doctor Cavanaugh. Get the hospital administrator in here. I’ve got to have answers. And I’ve got to have them now!”

  By sheer willpower, Caleb managed to throw off the sheet and raise up on his good elbow, but the pain was so intense he gasped and nearly passed out. With the assistance of his father, the nurse forced him back onto his pillow. Too weak to resist, he sank back limply, his breath coming in short bursts. His parents held his hands and attempted to calm him as the nurse prepared a sedative.

  She administered the shot to her hyperventilating patient. Soon his breathing became more regular, and he relaxed and sank into the mattress.

  Caleb feebly turned his head toward his shaken parents.

  “Mom, Dad,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so . . . so riled up.” Then he lapsed into unconsciousness.

  With a start, Caleb blinked and opened his eyes. A sudden chill sent shivers throughout his body. What an odd sensation for such a hot, arid climate.

  He heard a faint, distant sound. It wafted toward him from across the dunes, as if carried aloft on the wind. He paused and listened. There it was again. This time it was much clearer. Closer. Beep . . . beep . . . beep.

  His bleary eyes began to focus. He was not standing in a desert. The sound he heard was the soft, rhythmic beeping of the monitor to which he was attached. He glanced to his left. The blinds were drawn, yet slivers of sunlight had managed to find their way into the room and were casting their faint, parallel beams across his chest.