Kendra wasn’t a tall person and her family had often teased that she had to take two steps to a “normal” person’s one, just to keep up. Those small slender legs were doing double time at the moment. The man behind her also picked up his pace, not running, but definitely walking faster than before.
Of course, he could just be cold, he could just be anxious to get to his own car to escape the frigid temperature. Maybe he had to work late, too, and is walking fast to keep warm and hurry on home.
But Kendra felt that was decidedly not his purpose. She somehow knew she was his purpose.
Her lungs felt as if a fire had been ignited inside her, burning hotter with each step that she ran. Her lips were numb and her cheeks ached. The wind increased and moaned as if the entire world were in pain. Her entire body shook from the force of her heart pounding against her rib cage. Her body hummed with terror; a greasy sheen of sweat covered her body in spite of the sleet.
Kendra could see her car, imagined she could actually smell the pine tree-shaped car deodorizer hanging from the review mirror, and feel the way her foot would slip across the plastic mat beneath her accelerator when he grabbed her. Her heart stuttered within her chest and the only reason she still breathed was her autonomic nervous system.
He spun her small body around to face him and she focused on his face, trying to see if she knew him, wanting to understand who he was and why he was going to hurt her.
She didn’t know him, couldn’t know him because he was covered with thick, dark clothing and his face was mottled black with shadows. But she could smell him—the sweat of anger, the stink of rage, the halitosis of hatred.
Fear slammed into her, knocking hope to its knees. She felt light as air, inconsequential, when he picked her up, held her above his head for several heartbeats. Then she acknowledged all ninety-five pounds as he slammed her into the unforgiving pavement.
She lay there in the broken scaffolding of her body as he pummeled her limp body with his fists, at last straightening up to kick her, repeatedly, with those same work boots she’d heard scraping the roadway as he stalked her.
He turned to walk away but stopped when he heard an asthmatic breath escape her bruised lungs. He sighed as if having to perform a distasteful task, bent over and picked her up once again. Through the swollen eyelids which Kendra managed to open to slits, the angry clouds parted just long enough to reveal a cold moon shivering on an icy black lake just as he threw in her shattered-into-compliancy body.
Hope is hard to relinquish and she clung to hers as she lay statue-still on the top of the thin sheet of support. She had time to take one last gasp of air when she heard the splintering of the ice on the water, then inch by agonizing inch, her tiny body slid into the hungry mouth of liquid darkness.
Despite the buoyancy of the water, Kendra was unable to push herself up to the surface of the water, even if she’d been able to find the hole in the ice she’d created when she sank. Both of her arms and legs were broken, bones actually protruding through the skin in several places. With no fight left in her, it was if there was an entity in the water with her, grabbing her legs, dragging her back down to the depths from which it had come.
Several things above ground were happening quickly, frantically. The young lovers who had huddled in the open doorway of the store had seen and heard everything. Though they had both ran to Kendra’s aid, they were too late to get her away from the mad man. The young man, Neil Drucker, showed bravery that most of us will never have, running directly toward the homicidal maniac. Neil’s fiancée, Susan, ran behind him, cell phone open as she called for help.
Hearing their footfalls coming toward him, Lonnie Cardwell ran in the opposite direction. It seemed now that he’d accomplished what he wanted, he had no reason to linger. He veered toward Susan, perhaps to frighten her into running away, and the gray woolen scarf wrapped around his face fell down, revealing a jagged scar that ran the length of his face, from eyebrow to chin. He jerked the scarf back into place and he continued to run toward an older model VW.
Neil paced back and forth on the water’s edge, yelling for the young woman he’d witnessed being thrown in, holding out his arms as if he could beseech her to swim toward the sound of his voice. Susan had begun to cry as she joined him staring into the black lake, hoping they would see Kendra.
“The cops will be here any second, Neil. They’ll find her. She’ll be okay.”
“No, Susan, she won’t be okay! She’s in that freezing water and if she’s not already dead, she soon will be.” He pulled his coat off and he toed his shoes free of his feet.
“Neil! What are you doing? You can’t jump in that water! You’ll drown. Losing your own life won’t save her!”
He didn’t answer but instead leaned over and kissed Susan quickly, trying to infuse all the love he felt for her in that one brief moment. He walked to the water lapping at the edge of the frozen grass, took a step forward to break the ice, then slid into water that reached his knees. In a matter of seconds his teeth were chattering so hard it felt as if they would shatter. He knew he had, at the most, only minutes left to find Kendra. Soon not only would she be dead, but he would be, too. He took another step and went under.
Kendra didn’t feel Neil creating currents in the water as he moved his arms around, searching for her. She didn’t feel her own body swaying in those same inky currents because, for all intents and purposes, she was dead. She never heard Neil’s cry of triumph when he found her limp, lifeless body. She had been completely submerged in arctic water for nearly ten minutes.
The night was illuminated by the flashing strobe lights of emergency vehicles. Policemen and paramedics ran forward to pull Neil and Kendra from what should have been their watery graves. They wrapped thermal blankets around the young man then rushed him to the warmth of the waiting ambulance.
Just before she climbed into the back of the ambulance with Neil, Susan handed a purse with a broken strap to the ambulance attendant. “This was lying on the ground, where he first grabbed her.”
Kendra was covered with a aluminum-coated blanket then placed onto a separate gurney and rapidly taken to yet another ambulance. The doors slammed behind them so that the EMTs could work on the young woman who had no discernable pulse. All of her wet, frozen clothing was removed and EKG leads were placed on her bare chest while one of the first responders tried, in vain, to insert a needle for an IV. He yelled to the driver in the front, “Hyperthermia’s too bad to get a line started. Let’s go! We have to get this girl to the hospital if we have any chance of saving her.” Under his breath he said, “Even though it’s already too late. I’m sorry, honey, that we couldn’t get here faster.”
The two men worked like the well-conditioned medical machines that they were. One of them inserted an endotrachial tube then affixed it to an ambu bag to ventilate Kendra’s lungs. He paused in his ministrations long enough for his co-worker to use paddles to shock her heart out of its tenacious state of death. The monitor still displayed a flat line. For the rest of the frantic drive over ice-bumpy roads, the paramedics alternated between CPR and the shock paddles.
Kendra still had no pulse when she arrived in ER. Doctors and nurses swarmed Kendra like she was the queen bee in the world’s largest hive. Each staff member had a specific job and did it well. Because the frigid water had caused vasoconstriction, the first thing done was to insert a catheter into a large vein in her neck, to be used to inject medication or fluids, and to obtain blood and cardiovascular measurements.
In the midst of all this, the doctors and nurses working to resuscitate Kendra heard a strident voice, demanding to be heard.
“I’m looking for my wife. Kendra. That’s her name. Kendra Bostick. Somebody called me; told me she was here. Please, someone help me!”
Hospital personnel have been trained to be compassionate but keep distance between themselves and people who may be on the verge of losing control. Jerry seemed to be skittering close to the edge. The nurse behind t
he desk leaned over to place her hand across his; her expression illustrated she understood his terror.
“Jerry? My name is Denise. I’m the one who called you. Let’s go to the family waiting room and we’ll talk there, okay?”
She put her arm around the man’s trembling shoulders and guided him down the hall. She waited until he sat down before she began talking. “Remember, I’m a nurse so there’s only so much I can tell you. Doctor Decker will be here soon and he can give you the details.”
“What happened? All you said on the phone was that Kendra was hurt, in critical condition, and to get here right away. I nearly clipped a few telephone poles trying to hurry. I couldn’t speed; the roads are too icy. What if she’d died while I was driving so slow?” His voice began to rise in register, his eyes growing even larger. Denise sat down beside him and took his hand.
“Kendra was walking to her car when she was attacked.”
“Attacked? What do you mean-attacked? Who did it? Did he hurt her? Well of course he hurt her or she wouldn’t be so critical, right? Did he … oh my God, did he …?”
“No! He didn’t rape her.”
“How can you be so sure? Have they checked her … you know …”
“There were witnesses.”
“Witnesses? If there were witnesses, didn’t they even try to help her? Did they just stand there and let someone hurt Kendra?”
“Jerry, take a deep breath and let me speak.” Denise sat still as he forced himself to sit up straighter, take a slow, jagged breath. They both turned when the door opened.
Dr. Decker was a tall, slender man who wore the gray streaks at his temples with distinction. If you stopped your perusal at his chest you were quite impressed. Allowing your gaze to move downward, you might have been put off by the smears of vivid red blood on his lab coat.
Jerry immediately stood, as it seems most family members do when they’re scared of what they’re going to hear. Dr. Decker motioned for him to be reseated and smiled at the nurse. Denise discreetly slipped from the room.
“Okay, tell me the truth, Doc. I don’t even know what happened to get her here. All I know is she was attacked …”
Decker took the seat that Denise had vacated and looked into Jerry’s face. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.
“Yes, Kendra was attacked. The assault was one of the most vicious I’ve ever dealt with. Both arms and legs are broken in several places. In five places there is bone protruding through the skin. She has a hairline skull fracture, all of her ribs were kicked in, and her jaw is so broken she’ll be wired shut for quite some time, if she survives.”
Jerry jumped up as if his seat had caught fire. “If she survives? You think she won’t make it?”
Dr. Decker took Jerry’s wrist to guide him back to his seat. “While the injuries she has are egregious, in themselves capable of causing catastrophic consequences, they are not her only problem.”
Tears began to slide unchecked down Jerry’s cheeks. He stared at Decker, silently urging him to continue. The doctor pulled in a longer, deeper breath than before.
“Kendra also drowned.”
The husband fell back against the cushions of the sofa, unable to voice another question. His brows met across his nose and his eyes squinted in confusion.
“From what I’ve been told, she was totally submerged underwater for nearly ten minutes. By all accounts, Jerry, she should be dead; should’ve been DOA, but she is still alive. You owe the paramedics and the man who dove in to save her a huge debt of gratitude. If Kendra lives, especially if she has minimal brain damage, it is solely due to their heroic efforts. I merely took over, with expensive machines, what they’d already begun out there in the snow and ice.”
“I don’t understand, Doc. If she drowned, how can she still be alive?” He stopped, stared at the floor then looked back to the doctor. “Oh, God—she drowned!”
“As the temperature falls, the body shunts blood away from the skin and exposure to the elements. Blood flow is increased to the vital organs of the body including the heart, lungs, kidneys, and brain. The heart and brain are most sensitive to cold, and the electrical activity in these organs slows in response to cold. If the body temperature continues to decrease, organs begin to fail, and eventually death will occur. There have been documented cases where someone has survived being underwater even longer than Kendra. Right now we’ll continue what we’re doing and hope for the best.”
Jerry dropped his face into his hands.
“And Jerry? If you’re a believer, you might want to pray.”
“I haven’t stopped since I got the call...”
“Right now, it’s in His hands. We’ll do everything we can to save her, but man can only do so much.” He patted the distraught man on the shoulder. “Jerry, you might want to call in her family.”
Dr. Decker shut his eyes tight as he closed the door on the man’s harsh sobs.
* * *
The days turned into weeks and the group of loving support that occupied the family waiting room dwindled down to a solitary husband who slept on the hard plastic sofas and woke at dawn to rush home and get ready for work. After work he’d grab dinner from a drive-through window and scarf it down during the drive to his second home, MemorialHospital.
After two months, Kendra remained in a medicated fog. Jerry wasn’t sure she even knew he was there beside her, but that was okay, he knew.
Dr. Decker smiled when he saw the young husband holding his wife’s hand.
“Jerry, I have a tiny bit of good news. We’re going to move Kendra to what we call a ‘step down’ unit. She isn’t sick enough for ICU but is still too ill for a ‘regular’ room. The big difference will be that you can spend more time with her. You can even have a cot across the room from your wife. What do you think of that?”
“It’s the happiest I’ve been since the night before I was summoned to the ER.”
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high, Jerry, but it looks as if your girl here is fighting hard to make progress. I think it’ll be good for her recovery to get out of this unit. Who knows, having her husband around might make her want to come back. I know her husband is sure anxious to have his wife home where she belongs.”
“Well Doc, I guess I’ll just have to pray a little harder. After all, I don’t want Him to forget about her.”
Decker grinned. “Jerry, I doubt if you’d ever let that happen.”
* * *
The days droned on with the only change being that Jerry now got to sleep in the same room with Kendra. Some days he raced to her side after work; some days he took the long way around the city. Hope may spring eternal for some, but all of us have our doubts. Standing beside her bed, looking into Kendra’s unhinged gaze of the ceiling left a bitter taste in Jerry’s mouth. He prayed for one, just one, sign.
“Please, God. She’s fighting but she can’t break free. Please step in, take her hand, and guide her out. We’ve done all we can do; it’s all up to You now.”
Dr. Decker and his nurse were waiting for Jerry when he walked into his wife’s room. Jerry’s heart leaped into his throat and he felt sweat dot his forehead. He didn’t take a deep breath until he saw the doctor begin to smile.
“Hey, Jerry, welcome to the party! Come see what Kendra can do!”
Jerry covered the remaining few feet of floor space quickly. He stopped and gasped when Kendra turned her eyes to look at him. In seconds, her face was suffused with light, her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to smile as she always did when she saw her husband. She lifted her hand, not quite managing to get it off the sheet, but the movement was obvious.
Jerry leaned over and covered her faces with kisses. The musical chimes of her laughter lifted the stone that had crushed his heart since that long-ago winter night. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes, to amaze at her smile.
“Baby? Oh Kendra, you’re back! I’ve missed you so much. Thank you, God, for bringing my girl back to me!”
* * *
Physical therapy was long, hard, painful and frustrating. There were times when Kendra lost her temper and said she quit, that she couldn’t do it anymore. But those blowouts were few, tepid, and short in duration. The PT would pick up a magazine and give Kendra time to vent. Then when Kendra started laughing, they’d get back to the workout.
It took them four months to find Lonnie Cardwell. Susan, now wife of the man who pulled Kendra from the frozen lake, had given the police an excellent description of the man, his car, and license plate number. They were amazed at how calm she’d remained or she never would have been able to remember all the details. Therefore, the police had known from the first few days following the assault just who they were looking for, but actually locating him was a whole other problem. They’d found a couple of friends whose only cooperation was to tell authorities that “Poor ol’ Lonnie had been flying high that night, man! He didn’t mean to hurt that girl. He thought she was Sandra, his girlfriend that had ripped off all his drugs and money. He just got mixed up, man, that’s all.” That’s all … as if it would’ve been okay for Lonnie to attempt to kill another woman who might have been considered by some to be a lower caliber than Kendra Bostick.
The beginning of the end was at a red light near the same lake where Cardwell had thrown Kendra. He was driving a different car but, being high again, Lonnie lost it when a cop car pulled behind him to wait for the light to turn green. Paranoia pushed Cardwell through the red light, so he felt justified when the light bar and siren were turned on behind him. He gunned his car and outran the police for nearly a mile until he reached a curve he couldn’t maneuver. He stomped the brakes, but the momentum of the heavy machine propelled both car and driver through a guardrail and out into the lake. When they pulled the car from the water, Lonnie still sat behind the steering wheel, held in place by his seat belt, his eyes blared in fear of the death he knew had caught up with him.
Safe in the Heart of a Miracle: More True Stories of Medical Miracles Page 3