“OK, but please don’t tell anyone Sean took a steroid. I wouldn’t bring it up, even to you, if I didn’t need answers.”
“I won’t. No problem.” Mike rubbed his hands over his knees.
He was Sean’s best friend for a good reason. He was trustworthy. I gave his name to Detective Garret because I knew he would keep their conversation confidential. He wouldn’t break his word to him or me.
“Sean wouldn’t just go out and buy a steroid. Someone must have convinced him to take it. I’d like to get hold of him, whoever he is.” He balled his right hand into a fist and hit his left palm. Then he stood, and I did too.
“Hang in there, OK?” Mike embraced me. “That’s from Sean.”
“Felt like one of his bear hugs,” I said as I walked him to the porch.
His shoulders slumped as he trudged to his red sports car and scooted in. I could only imagine what must have been going through his mind knowing his best friend had taken a steroid. Mike backed out, but before I shut the door, Mr. Daven’s white SUV pulled in. The entire family filed out and started up the rock walkway.
Mrs. Daven carried a large cardboard box. “I have rice and chicken for you,” she called out as she walked up the steps.
It was so sweet of her to bring food. If only her kindness could make Sean well. “That’s so nice. Thank you.” I leaned against the door to hold it open.
On the way in Mr. Daven gently touched my arm. “Hon, we’re sorry.”
Mom and Dad came downstairs as Emily gave me a hug. Mom took the food, and Mr. and Mrs. Daven followed Dad to the den.
Seeing Emily shattered the icy, coldness that had numbed my heart. “Want to go outside?”
“Sure.”
We meandered to the backyard and sat on the back step leading from the slate patio to the fishpond.
She put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I’m glad people are coming by. It makes all of us feel better, but I’m so upset. I don’t think I’ll be all right until Sean is. One minute I tell myself he’ll get well. The next I believe nothing ever can be the same. It feels like somebody stabbed my heart. I can’t stand not having him tease me and tell jokes.”
If I vented to Emily, I’d have to talk about my family to her for the first time ever, but I needed to share some of my pain before I burst. “Sometimes it makes me sick that Sean took a steroid. Other times I’m angry with him for doing it. Then I feel guilty. Apparently, I wasn’t there for him when he needed me. I’m furious with the drug dealers, whoever they are.” I took a deep breath. “In a way, I understand it.”
Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “Why did he do it? Where did he get it?”
“We don’t know where he got it.” I blinked and swallowed hard. “I hate thinking this, but I’m afraid he took it to please Dad.”
Emily’s mouth gaped. “Your dad wanted him to take it?”
“No.” I was making a big mess of this. “Dad wanted him to be a great quarterback. I guess Sean was going to any extreme to keep from disappointing him.”
“Emily, honey, come on.” Mrs. Daven’s voice drifted into the yard.
I grabbed Emily’s shirtsleeve. “You can’t tell anyone about this conversation, OK?”
“I promise.” Emily turned and left.
Before the day ended, so many people stopped by from school it turned my thoughts to Jimmy Willmore. Who was he staring at now? Would he still gaze at me when I went back to school?
4
Mrs. Daven’s food sat on the round oak table in front of the bay window. The ruffled café curtains cheered up the kitchen, but not me. As I took a seat I tried to think of something other than Sean in that hospital bed.
Mom and Dad sat down and stared at me with anxious eyes.
How could I swallow with my heart in my throat? The scent of the soy and oriental spices wafted up, bringing back good memories from the times I’d eaten at Emily’s house. I munched on the food, taking small bites. Mrs. Daven’s dinner may have been the only thing I could have tolerated.
Dad stared into space as he mechanically lifted rice off his plate.
Mom picked at her chicken, but tears pooled up in her eyes while she chewed. “We need to work out a schedule, so one of us will be at the hospital at all times.” She sniffled. “I want to go back.”
Dad directed his gaze at Mom and placed his hand over hers. “No, remember what Nurse Shutze said. If Sean wakes up, they’ll call. You need to rest.”
Dad probably was right. It had been a long day. Mom was in no condition to return to the hospital. I couldn’t stand to think about Sean like that, let alone keep visiting him in that state.
Dad pushed his plate forward, propped his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands.
Seeing them in so much pain ripped at my heart. What kind of people were drug dealers? Did they not care what they did to others? Heat crawled up my neck, the fury rising again. “If you don’t mind, I’m going in the den.”
Mom took the plates off the table. “All right, honey, we’re right behind you as soon as we straighten up the kitchen.”
Mom and Dad drifted into the den and sat on the sofa next to me. I could no longer hold up my head. I dozed on Mom’s shoulder until I woke up at four o’clock. Careful not to disturb Mom and Dad, I tiptoed upstairs, and went to my bed. A fire to find the person who hurt Sean and tear him to bits burned in my soul. I may not have been strong enough to beat him up, but I was smart enough to find him.
~*~
Tuesday morning life hit me in the face when I woke up, and it was so ugly. I stared at the cutest puppy poster, a black and white cocker spaniel. My gaze wandered to the trophy I received for butterfly this past summer at the state meet. It had lost its luster. The once precious treasures in my room belonged in another world that seemed so long ago and far away. Was I supposed to go to school? Surely not. Sean wasn’t well yet.
I slid my legs over the side of the bed, dragged myself up and put on my housecoat. Then I trudged down the steps. The refrigerator hummed in the empty kitchen.
Mom and Dad must have gone to the hospital.
Weakness swept over me as if I had a fever. I needed to see Sean. I trod back upstairs, feeling a little dizzy as I tugged on a black skirt and knit shirt. The edge of the bed seemed to sway when I started toward it, but I aimed at the corner and hit my mark. Sean would be better today.
Holding onto that thought, I walked to the Mistville City bus stop.
The large white vehicle pulled up and stopped.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
“Hi.” I handed the driver a token and sat in a seat near the front.
In thirty minutes he drove up in front of the hospital, stopped, and opened the door. “Here we are ma’am. This is the end of my route.”
“Thanks.” I stepped into a parking lot filled with people coming and going and never felt more alone. Fear of what I had to face gripped me as I took tentative steps to Sean’s room.
Mom stared into space and Dad peered at his lap.
As I headed toward Mom to sit down beside her, she stood.
Reverend Hopewell from The Apostles Church entered, kindness sparkling in his blue eyes. He was a small man, but the congregation often made reference to how tall he stood in the pulpit. People praised him for being down to earth. I’d only talked to him at youth group, but he seemed like one of those untouchable people living on a different level from the rest of us.
Mom shook hands with him. “Thanks so much for coming.”
The reverend clasped his hand over hers. “Is there anything I can do other than pray for all of you?” His voice sounded soothing.
“No.” Mom spoke so softly I barely picked up her hopeless tone.
Dad stood. Surely, he wouldn’t be rude to the preacher because Mr. Stonebridge had made him doubt the sincerity of churchgoers.
Reverend Hopewell said, “We must have faith ‘for the prayer offered in faith will make the sick pe
rson well; the Lord will raise him up—’ I kept thinking of that Scripture from James on the way here. We know God can heal Sean.”
Dear God, Please, let Sean wake up, tease me, and tell us a joke. I ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.
Sean lay as listless as ever. Did God hear my prayer?
A nurse came in and rolled Sean to his side. She smiled at me on her way out. My lips trembled when I tried to return the gesture.
Reverend Hopewell put his hands together, interlacing his fingers. “Let’s have a prayer.”
The four of us bowed our heads.
“Our Heavenly Father, we ask that you bring healing to Sean and give comfort to his family during this difficult time. Thy will be done. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”
Dad shook Reverend Hopewell’s hand and thanked him for coming by.
The minister left and the hopeless feeling in the room smothered me.
The antiseptic smell mixed with sickness wafting in the doorway made my head spin. My knees nearly buckled, but Mom and Dad didn’t need an upset daughter to go with their half-dead son. “If it’s OK, I’m going home.”
The anxious looks in their eyes told me they couldn’t bear to have anything else go wrong.
Dad nodded. “Yes, go ahead.”
“Get some rest.” Mom gazed at me with concerned eyes.
I hugged them and left.
Near the lobby a soft glow coming from an opened door shone on a wide strip of the gray floor. A chapel. Something urged me to go inside. Maybe it was because I had nowhere else to turn. Maybe it was because Reverend Hopewell’s visit made me believe God would do something about Sean’s condition if I kept asking Him to.
A cinder of hope sparked inside me as I walked in the tiny, narrow sanctuary with mahogany paneling and one pew. If only God would make Sean well and lead me to the drug dealers. Did God do that sort of thing? Maybe I didn’t know enough about God to be in here. He wouldn’t approve of all the hate I had for the drug dealers. Jesus preached a Gospel of love. My heart beat so fast.
How could I explain my deep despair to God? Did He care about Sean and me? Through the blur of my tears I peered at the stained-glass cross embedded in dark paneling behind the altar, the soft lighting washing over it. I didn’t need to tell God how sad I was. He already knew. Of course, He cared. He sent His only son to die for Sean’s sins and mine.
But did I know the right thing to say to God, especially in my angry state? Reverend Hopewell’s prayers sounded so eloquent when he said them for the youth group. If I ever wanted a prayer to be good enough for God to answer, it was now. The words “Ask and it will be given to you…” popped in my head. I knew they came from the book of Matthew, so I looked it up on my cell phone—chapter seven, verse seven. I stared at the words for several minutes then turned it off and bowed my head.
Dear Lord, please have mercy on Sean and heal him, if it is Your will, and dear Lord, I hope it is. Mom, Dad, and I need him. I’m sorry I haven’t been a better sister, and I’m sorry about the hate I feel toward the drug dealers. Maybe You can help me get over it...if I could just find them. I love Sean so much. If he gets well, I’ll talk to him about the gifts You gave him and tell him what a great brother he is. Please let Dad see that Sean doesn’t need to be a quarterback. I ask these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.
I stood and took one last look at the cross. My heart beat steady now. There were answers, peace, and hope in this room. I walked outside with renewed strength, the crisp fall air fanning my cheeks on the way to the bus stop.
The bus pulled up, and the door opened. “Hello again, ma’am.”
“Hi.” I gave the bus driver the fare and sat down behind him.
The huge vehicle swayed as he drove on the winding mountain road, and I took hold of the metal armrest. The hills across the valley appeared so blue today. Strange, how places I’d passed for years looked foreign to me since Sean had had his stroke. It was as though my busy mind had been so pre-occupied I’d never taken time to see them, or was it that they looked different because I was different? I leaned my head against the window.
“There’s no one on here but you. I’ll let you off in front of your house.” The driver whizzed by the bus-stop marker.
He couldn’t have known how tired I was. Maybe he sensed my overwhelming sadness and wanted to help. Mistville was a small, mountain town. He may have heard that Sean was ill. The reason he wanted to show me the kindness didn’t matter. I was grateful. “Thank you.”
He pulled up and stopped. “You’re welcome. Here ya’ go.”
I pried my body from the seat and got off, giving him a wave.
A lonely walk took me to our entrance. The click resounded as I locked the door. In the den the red light blinked on the message machine. Believing it was good news about Sean, I darted to it and punched the button. My heart sank. Mom’s sweet voice spoke over it. “Honey, some ladies from the church brought a smoked turkey this morning. Get yourself a sandwich.”
I pulled my phone out of my purse. I must’ve hit the off button when I stuck it in my pocketbook in the chapel. Eat? Yeah, right, as if my stomach wasn’t in my throat. But I knew Mom. She’d ask if I’d eaten. I poked around in the refrigerator and found the food. It was a good thing I did.
Mom and Dad entered while I stood there holding the turkey. Dad’s broad shoulders slumped, and Mom looked pale.
Dad touched my arm. “Hi, hon. We didn’t know we’d leave so soon after you did. I’m sorry you rode the bus when you could’ve come with us.”
My knees buckled, and I leaned against the kitchen counter. “Is something wrong?”
“I think Mom’s a little more tired than she realized.”
“What happened?” I couldn’t keep the fear out of my voice.
Mom gave me a hug. “I walked to the end of the hall to the vending machines to get a bottle of water, and a dizzy spell hit me. I’m fine now, but the nurse practically ran us out. She suggested we rest until tomorrow and promised to call if Sean needed anything. She’s probably right. A good night’s sleep will do wonders for me.”
Mom needed more than one night’s sleep, but I doubted she’d get it, even if she tried.
“I’ll make sandwiches for us all.”
Mom gave me a weak smile. “Thanks, honey.”
I lined up the bread slices, spread on mayonnaise and then topped them with lettuce, tomato, and turkey. Just as I finished the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” I set the food on the table and went to the door.
Emily’s smile lifted my dampened spirits.
“Hi, Margaret.”
Apparently, Mom heard her voice because she called out. “Come in the kitchen and eat with us.”
Emily walked in with me, looked at Mom and Dad, and smiled big.
Mom and Dad’s faces lit up.
Making another sandwich only took me a few minutes.
“Emily, how are you?” Mom’s voice sounded weak.
“Oh, I’m fine, Mrs. McWhorter. I’ve been studying for a literature test,” Emily said as we pulled our chairs up to the table.
Hearing about Emily’s day brought a sense of normalcy to the meal and comforted me, but all too soon an awkward silence fell.
Mom and Dad peered at their food and munched mechanically.
Glad to see Emily, I wanted to say something, but all I could think of was Sean.
Emily wiggled in her chair. “At practice last week Margaret swam a 58:50 in the one-hundred-yard butterfly.”
Obviously, even Emily understood Dad’s obsession with athletics. After all, they’d been at some of the same meets. She’d probably seen him wringing his hands and gritting his teeth while he waited for me to come in first. Like I came in first that often. Yeah.
Dad only nodded his head as he chewed a bite of his sandwich. What was going through his mind?
Emily gulped down her food. “Thank you, Margaret. I better go. My lit test is tomorrow.” The scraping of the chair sounded loud as she pushed it back and st
ood. “Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. McWhorter.”
Mom nodded.
“Sure, hon.” Dad gave her a half smile.
I walked her to the door and hugged her. “I’m glad you stopped by. Come again soon.”
“I will, you can count on it.”
Being around Emily made me want back the life I’d lost in the blink of an eye. She didn’t mention seeing Jimmy Willmore at school, but I’d never told her I thought he was hot. He probably was best forgotten for now. Things could never be normal again unless Sean recovered and maybe not then. Could we ever get over this and find a new normal? Heading toward the kitchen, I stopped short.
Mom and Dad sat on the sofa in the den. Some color had returned to Mom’s cheeks. Either the small amount of food she ate, or just getting away from the stress of being at the hospital seemed to have helped her.
I dropped down between them and stayed until I couldn’t hold my eyes open. Then I hugged them and went upstairs to bed.
~*~
The first thing on my mind Wednesday morning when I woke up—Sean. My stomach knotted as I swung my feet out from under the comforter and put them on the carpet. The upstairs was as quiet as a tomb. I plodded downstairs.
Mom scooped eggs and grits onto serving plates and set them on the table. “I want the three of us to eat a good breakfast.”
The smell nearly gagged me, but I pulled up a chair and sat down. Mom would be upset if I didn’t eat something. Sheer determination let me swallow some of the food.
Dad quickly shoveled in a few bites and left for work.
Mom gazed at me with steady eyes. “Please go to school today.”
The kids would be talking about their weekend plans. They’d be teasing each other about classes and sports they played, telling jokes, and laughing. My world had stopped. If emotions could be cut and bleed, mine would be gushing. I’d died inside. How could a walking dead person go to Meriwether, do homework, and swim, let alone smile at anyone?
“Sean would want you to return to your classes as soon as possible.” Mom’s eyes pleaded with me.
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