Stopped Cold

by Pallotta, Gail;

  He pulled up in front of the house. “Lock the door and fix yourself something to eat.”

  “I will, Dad.” I shut the car door, and he sped away.

  My feet seemed as heavy as lead as I trudged to our beveled glass front door. I dragged myself up the staircase to my room. The nightlight shone on the pale pink wall as though this was any night and my heart wasn’t breaking. I turned back my pink and white comforter and snuggled under the covers. No matter how upset Sean had been, he should’ve known I was here for him. Why hadn’t he reached out to me?

  Oh, no. Maybe he had when he brought up the stingers. Maybe it was my fault for not supporting him as much as it was Dad’s for pushing him. I put both hands on my head, but the guilty thoughts swirled.

  I screamed.

  Maybe Sean didn’t take the drugs intentionally. Some evil person probably put steroids in his drinks or food. The side effects would wear off soon. He’d wake up and say he had no idea how he ingested the drugs. Yeah. I rolled over and tried to sleep, but I kept thinking of Sean.

  Tomorrow he’d wake up and tell me what happened. He had to.

  3

  Ten o’clock Sunday morning I awoke rolled up in my comforter. I sobbed into my pillow for a while before I threw back the covers, placed my feet on the pale green carpet, and sat. I had to be strong for Mom, Dad, and Sean. That motivated me to stand up. I tugged on a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt then headed downstairs.

  Sean’s room stopped me dead in my tracks. Without him, the NFL posters and football trophies looked out of place. Dad insisted Sean earned them. How hard had that been for a half-hearted athlete? If Sean recovered, I’d make sure he knew he didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

  I plodded to the den.

  Mom sat motionless on the sofa.

  Looking relaxed in the easy chair, Dad munched on a grilled cheese sandwich, a plate on the table beside him. How could he sit there and eat with Sean so ill?

  “Hi Mom, Dad, has anyone heard anything about Sean?”

  “No, I stayed until four-thirty this morning hoping for a change. So far everything’s the same, but I choose to believe Sean will be fine.” Mom’s faith, bravery, and assurance gave me something to hang onto.

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it.”

  Detective Garrett stood in the doorway, rubbing together his square-shaped hands. “Good morning, ma’am. Are your parents here?”

  “Yes sir.” I showed him in.

  Dad laid his food on the dish, stood, and wiped his large hands on a napkin. Then he shook Detective Garrett’s hand and sat back down.

  Detective Garrett took a seat and peered at us with his jaw set firm. “We found a stanozolol tablet in a white envelope in Sean’s jeans pocket. I returned his clothes to his room at the hospital. You can pick them up there.” His voice held a sad ring.

  In his pocket! Ire rumbled in my stomach. How could Sean do this to us? Yeah, he was sad because he’d been replaced as starting quarterback. He could have talked to me. Sean was so ill, and I didn’t know what happened. How could I stay irked at him? My indignation dwindled and left me wilted.

  Mom put her hands over her face, muffling her sobs.

  I tore to the bathroom and threw up.

  When I came back, Detective Garrett, dressed like a businessman today, pulled at the collar of his light blue shirt. “I really want to catch these guys, the sooner the better. Do you mind if I search Sean’s room?”

  Mom shook her head.

  Dad raised his eyebrows. “I suppose if we don’t allow it, you’ll leave and come back with a search warrant.”

  “Yes.” His voice had steel in it, but his lips turned down.

  Dad’s eyes grew misty. Was his competitive spirit clothed in guilt, or did he put all the blame for this on Sean? “We won’t make you do that. I’ll show you his room.”

  Detective Garrett and Dad left and stayed for what seemed like hours.

  Mom and I gazed back and forth at each other. She wrung her hands.

  Finally, Dad and Detective Garrett returned to the den.

  “Well?” Mom asked.

  Detective Garrett shook his head. “I’m sorry. I found an envelope with what appears to be additional drugs in it. He’d taped it underneath the bottom drawer in the nightstand next to his bed.” He shook his head. “I tried to find a name, address, phone number, or anything that might give me a clue. There’s nothing. Whoever is selling this stuff is very careful. I can’t believe the number of kids showing symptoms of steroid use at the hospital.”

  Dad’s eyes widened as he plopped into the easy chair. “How many cases?”

  “That’s confidential information, but I can tell you this problem seemed to come out of nowhere a short time ago. I won’t stop until I find these creeps.”

  “Will Sean be charged?” Mom’s voice was weak.

  My heart pounded against my chest. Could Sean go to jail?

  “Right now, let’s concentrate on getting Sean well and catching the dealers. We certainly have evidence of possession, but we don’t know all the circumstances,” Detective Garrett said.

  Mom wiped her brow. “We appreciate your investigation. We want the people who forced Sean to take these drugs to pay.”

  Mom must be right. Someone made Sean swallow those pills. They threatened to do something horrible if he didn’t buy them.

  Detective Garrett put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “Yes, ma’am, I understand. What do you hear about Sean?”

  “Dr. Salis says he should be responding, but for some reason he isn’t. They’ve run more tests, but we don’t have the results. I’ve wondered if he took another drug and needed treatment for it too. Did you find anything other than stanozolol in Sean’s jean pockets or the envelope?”

  Mom was thinking the same thing I was.

  “The pills all appear to be the same. I’m sorry.” He gazed at Mom with compassionate eyes then stood. “Please call if he starts talking. He probably knows something that would help crack this case.” He spoke in a soft tone.

  “We will.” Mom rose up in her chair.

  “Keep your seat. I’ll see myself to the door.” Detective Garrett headed out of the den.

  Great. My brother couldn’t talk. His doctor was busy with other patients in the emergency room. To the detective Sean was a piece to a puzzle. Who would help Sean?

  Dad lowered his head. “It’s my fault. I always tried to make him into a great athlete.”

  Had he known all along how much pressure he put on Sean, or had Sean’s stroke forced him to realize it? Was he sorry?

  “Let’s go to worship service this Sunday.” Mom’s voice pleaded.

  Would he go to church and ask God to save Sean? Could we all go together? Mom and Dad fought about attending a couple weeks ago. I peered at Dad to see his reaction.

  He looked up, his face as red as a hot coal. “They’re all a bunch of hypocrites. Alton Stonebridge acts so pious, but he doesn’t pay his bills. You know I lost an entire month’s commission because he wouldn’t pay Micro World for the supplies I sold him. I nearly lost my job, and you want me to go back there? Not on your life.”

  Mom slumped in her seat, her lips turned down. “You can’t judge Mr. Stonebridge. You don’t know what’s in his heart, or what problems he has. No one’s perfect. We’re all sinners. At least people who attend church are trying to do the right thing. Someone who won’t go isn’t.” Mom breathed in and exhaled. “It’s straight now. He paid the bill. Even if he hadn’t, we have other friends at church who probably miss us. Mostly we need to go for Sean and ourselves. Can’t you forget about it?”

  Dad hollered, “Absolutely not.”

  Mom said no more, but sat with her brow furrowed.

  My breath turned as ragged as it did after I swam too hard, and I gulped in air. My family, my world, had fallen apart.

  Dad patted me on the back. Margaret, don’t ever take steroids. I don’t care how fast you swim, le
t alone whether or not you win.”

  The caring tone in Dad’s voice settled the anxiety racing through me. Of course, he didn’t want me to ruin my life with drugs. But not win? He’d made aiming for number one a goal for Sean and me for as long as I could remember. If I weren’t winning, would he still care about me? Anyway, I wasn’t sure I could turn my competitive drive off like a spigot. Being known as the Meriwether Shark who won butterfly gave me a feeling of accomplishment and pride.

  Mom gazed at me, tears glistening in her eyes. “Well, Margaret.”

  Poor Mom. How could she think I’d even consider drugs? She probably never imagined Sean would.

  “I won’t take steroids, Dad. I promise.”

  “Good.” Dad rubbed his hands on his knees. He often ended a conversation this way, so I wasn’t surprised when he rose from his chair.“Let’s get back to the hospital.”

  ~*~

  In the dimly lit room we sat in our chairs and watched Sean lie in the bed, the blanket that never moved pulled up to his neck. Every few hours a nurse entered, put medicine in his IV, and rolled him to his other side. Then she took his vital signs, smiled at us, and left.

  My stomach clenched. If only I could beat on the walls or kick them.

  Dad stood and touched Mom’s arm. “We should leave. There’s nothing we can do.”

  Mom pulled back. “No.”

  I couldn’t leave the sad sight soon enough. “Dad’s right, Mom. You can come tomorrow.”

  Mom pressed her lips together then stood and plodded out of the room into the hall. She stopped at the nurses’ station and leaned against the tall white counter. “Will someone call us if there’s a change in Sean’s condition?”

  A nurse raised her head and looked at us with kindness showing in her brown eyes. “I promise I’ll phone if Sean comes out of this no matter what time it is.”

  But there was no call. We could have slept soundly through the night—if only any of us could sleep.

  ~*~

  I tossed and turned until the wee hours before I finally dozed. My eyes snapped open, and I put the pillow over my head then threw it to the bottom of the bed. The posters of puppies usually cheered me, but not today. Not even when I recalled my friends bringing them as gifts to my birthday party two years ago.

  The closed door to my room kept the world at bay. The clock beside the bed read noon, but time meant nothing. Eventually Mom would knock and tell me to eat. I pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt, headed downstairs to the kitchen, and picked at a bowl of cereal.

  The doorbell rang.

  Mrs. Shilvers, our silver-haired next-door neighbor who often brought us homemade oatmeal cookies, gave me a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

  Her sweet treats were crisp on the outside, but soft inside with raisins and macadamia nuts. I loved them, but today I recalled Sean eating six the last time she brought them and grew nauseated.

  Mom and Dad came in the den, and Mrs. Shilvers hugged them too.

  The doorbell rang all day long. Friends and neighbors flocked to the house. Each time someone asked what happened, I wanted to run and hide. How many times could Mom say, “We had no idea Sean had a health problem” before her mouth would no longer speak the words? Each time I heard them I swallowed my pain, pushed back my tears, and forced the anger to crawl to a corner of my brain and shut up.

  At five-thirty the last guest left, and I started upstairs. The bell rang again. My weary heart sank, but I dragged my tired body to the door. A tiny smile bubbled. Ten members from the swim team crowded around our entryway.

  “Hi Maggie Butterfly, we just heard about Sean. We’re so sorry.” Tammy gazed at me with kind brown eyes and gave me the first hug.

  One by one each of my teammates did the same before they crowded into the foyer.

  “Come in. There are sandwiches and sodas in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks. We can’t stay, but we wanted to say ‘hello,’” Tammy said.

  I led them to the den where Mom and Dad sat side by side on the sofa and stared with blank eyes at the TV.

  “Hi Mr. and Mrs. McWhorter.” Tammy greeted Mom and Dad and the rest of the swimmers murmured hellos and smiled at them.

  Mindy Jones waved.

  “How nice of you to come by.” Mom tugged on Dad’s shirtsleeve.

  “Huh?” He glanced at her then nodded and they left the room.

  Six people squeezed together on the sofa. Tammy and Mindy sat on the rock fireplace while the others plopped down in the easy chair and on the footstool. An awkward silence hung as I took a seat in a chair.

  Tammy rubbed her hand around the edge of a rock. “We missed seeing you at practice today.”

  “Yeah,” others chorused.

  Mindy Jones pushed her blonde hair behind her ears. “Coach Lohrens made us swim so many laps by the end of the work-out I felt as if I swam in a wet towel.”

  We all laughed.

  “Working out in a towel would give you some serious drag.” Lou Ellis, a senior, tapped her foot on the floor, her flip-flop sliding off. She put it back on. “We should try that for a month; see how fast we are when we take them off.”

  We all chuckled again.

  Tammy stood. “We need to get goin’. I hope you can swim with us soon.”

  “I’ll be back in no time. Dr. Salis says Sean will be fine. I think he’ll snap back to his old self as soon as he gets home.”

  Tammy raised her dark eyebrows. “When is he coming home?”

  “We don’t know for sure.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell them Sean wasn’t even awake. I saw them to the door and waved. “See ya’.”

  “You bet.” Tammy gave me a thumbs’ up.

  Having my friends visit made me less lonely, but they had no idea how far life had taken me from the world of swimming. I lived in a dark, sad place they couldn’t understand. I trudged upstairs. I didn’t even make it to the bed before the doorbell rang again. Hoping it wouldn’t disturb Mom and Dad, I dashed downstairs and opened the door.

  Mike Green engulfed me in his big arms. “They wouldn’t let me see Sean at the hospital. I know he’d ask me to check on you if he could. You need anything?”

  Sean was a private person. If he’d told anyone he was taking steroids, it probably would have been me, but Mike was his best friend. He might know something. The need to find out how Sean ended up with those drugs bounced around in my head like a Ping-Pong ball. I couldn’t ignore it.

  “There is something. Come in the den.”

  “Anything.” Mike sat on the sofa and shot me a questioning gaze as I joined him. He was Meriwether’s star running back and a great guy too. He’d been a guest in our home since he and Sean were in grammar school and seemed to think of me as a little sister. He smiled and winked when he passed me in the halls at school. Being recognized by an upper-class football star made me feel important, and I always walked with my head held a little higher.

  I thought hard about the words I’d use to keep from offending or upsetting him. “Mike, you probably know Sean as well as anyone…” I paused “… better than most of his friends.”

  He straightened his broad shoulders. “Yeah, why?”

  “How did Sean act around you after Harold Gravitts took over as starting quarterback?”

  Mike rubbed his chin with his large, thick hand. “Coach Rogers announced the change last week at practice. It was like he’d dropped a bomb on the field. Sean took it way too hard.” Mike bit his bottom lip. “The whole thing made me furious, and just between us, Gravitts acts like a jerk. You know, he hasn’t been at Meriwether that long. You’d think he’d want to hang out with the guys on the team, but he doesn’t. I guess he thinks he’s better than we are.” Mike shrugged. “I don’t get it, but the way I see it, it’s his problem.”

  “Interesting.” I also wanted to know about Sean’s ex-girlfriend. “What about Candy? Were there bad feelings over the break-up?” Just to mention her name made the hair on my arms stand on end. “I never underst
ood why Sean dated her. They don’t have a lot in common.”

  Mike tilted his head as though he was thinking and leaned away from me. “You’re right. They’re definitely opposites, but they’re still friends. Sean was with her at the party at Andy Wintrep’s house Friday night. Candy flirts too much, but she is cool and good hearted.” A defensive tone rang in his voice. “So many football players have dated her we’re used to seeing her every time we have a party. Having no one bring her would be like having no one bring chips and dip.”

  It sounded as though Candy had become a bad habit with the football jocks, but I didn’t say that. Knowing Sean, he probably stayed around her because they both wanted to hang out with the team.

  The urge to learn more about Friday night gnawed at me. Did something happen at the party? Did someone challenge Sean with a dare? Or who knows what? “So, Andy Wintrep hosted the get together,” I said under my breath. “I gave Detective Garrett your name.”

  “Yeah, he talked to me yesterday. He asked me to keep quiet about our conversation, so I figured I must be the only one from the party he questioned. Nothing went on there. I assured Detective Garrett of that.” Mike’s voice sounded as firm as a rock.

  “All right, this will shock you.”

  Mike moved closer to me. “What?”

  The words stuck in my throat like sticky notes, but I swallowed hard then spit them out. “Do you know how Sean got hold of a steroid, or why he took it?”

  Mike slapped his forehead. “No, man. Sean wouldn’t do something like that. I mean, never, no way.” Stress filled his voice.

  “I wish you were right, Mike, but he did.”

  “It’s hard to believe.” Mike spoke in a soft, sad tone.

  The anger reeling inside me fueled my need to find the drug dealers. At the same time, I didn’t want to disrespect the football team. I grew nauseated, but I had to ask. “Mike, don’t be offended, but I have to know, are any of the football players using it?”

  Mike ran his hand over his face. “You can ask me anything you want. To answer the question, I don’t think so.” Mike’s eyes widened. “Whew! I’d like to find out what happened too. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”