by Regina Doman
He stood up, put down the ice pack, and extended a hand to Rose. “I admit it, I was slow to react. You made up for my deficiency. I am sincerely grateful.”
She tentatively gave him her hand, and unexpectedly he raised it to his lips and kissed it, then patted it and put it down.
“And thank God for that man, Hunter, getting in when he did. I got his number from the DEA earlier today, and called him as soon as Rose told me where you had gone.” Fish replaced his cold pack and turned to Bear again. “He’s volunteered to testify on our behalf. Charles told me that he could become the pivotal witness.”
“Is that right?” Bear wished for a moment that Fish would see it too, but his brother was facing the other way, seemingly more interested in telling Bear about federal laws concerning agents testifying in court. Rose was transfigured in wonder, holding the hand that Fish had kissed with astonishment. She actually did not speak a single word for several minutes.
Chapter Twenty-Four
She was floating in the darkness, alternately sinking and rising.
Sometimes she drifted to the edges of consciousness and caught snippets of things—a siren, people jabbering, someone sobbing. She thought she recognized a child’s voice. Marisol’s little girl.
“What happened to you, Princess? What happened to you?”
She fled the child’s voice, down the labyrinthine ways back into the suffocating blackness, for fear the child’s words would distort into more hallucinations. A scream, a scream that was never going to be heard.
And down, down, into darkness. She hung there for a while, a shy fish terrified of shadows, of the light that gave things form. But she was still breathing, breathing, and her own oxygen drove her back up towards the surface—too fast, too fast.
And then she was halted, gripped by an iron weight freezing her limbs, and something in the darkness laughed maliciously at her. She had not been able to get away.
Why? She asked wearily. If you knew what was going to happen, God, why didn’t you stop this? If he wasn’t going to come in time, why did you let me trust him?
There was nothing but the emptiness of echoes and her own pointless breathing. And the creeping, paralyzing doubt that had been hovering in the corners of her mind came flying out, screaming.
See? There’s no one here. This is the darkness. This is the other side, where God is supposed to be. And it’s empty.
Empty.
Except for the laughter in the darkness. Elaine’s laughter. The delight of destruction.
So there was no point to anything. No platonic ideals, dazzling in the darkness. Just empty shells of people, randomly endowed with strength and weakness. Her sickness had labeled her from birth as one of the weak, which would never be fit to survive anyone’s evolutionary scheme.
Only the good die young. Because the good are weak. She huddled in the murky pool and fought desperately against the paralyzing strength of the idea.
Why don’t you just give up now? She heard Elaine’s voice speaking.
Princes never come. What’s the point in being a china doll? Why not be a power goddess, feeding on strength, re-making yourself in the image of every threat to your supremacy that came along? As Elaine had done.
She was being like a silly fainting heroine in some Victorian semi-classic, whimpering and dying of consumption, too fragile to keep herself together for very long, barely suspending disbelief. The weaker vessel.
But she couldn’t shed her biology like a cracked eggshell and rise to do battle with nature. She was weak. And she was dying. Dying badly, warped by self-pity. As Mr. Fairston had been. Alone.
II
Leon saw the tears creeping from the eyes of the sleeping girl, and gently wiped them away.
Black hair, white skin—still as death, Leon thought. He had sat in the chair by the hospital bed in the ICU through the night, with Brother George. So far, Nora had eluded death, but her future was far from certain. The medications had halted the dangerous arrhythmia, and the cardiograms hadn’t shown any major heart damage. But she lay as motionless as if she were indeed dead.
“How is she?” Father Francis asked in a low voice as he joined them on Monday morning. Nora was still attached to an IV and heart monitor. Leon couldn’t answer, and the old priest touched his shoulder gently.
“The level of digoxin in her bloodstream is still coming down,” Brother George said. “They’re pumping it out of her system with dialysis. But they’re not sure if she’s going to wake up.”
“God bless her,” Father Francis said quietly. “We’ve got to find her family.”
“Her mom and sister were on vacation. They were coming home tomorrow, I think,” Leon said, but added dispiritedly, “But we don’t know their names.”
George rubbed the cross of his rosary. “The police have put out her information. But I don’t know if there’s much the doctors can do for her if she doesn’t come around.”
“Well, we’ll just have to be her family until something turns up,” Father Francis said briskly. “We’ll take turns staying with her. You two go back now and get some sleep. I’ll stay here.”
Leon slowly got to his feet, grateful for his superior’s care. The normally gruff priest surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder. “There’s always hope, Leon. Even in these desperate situations. There’s always hope.”
III
“Dad is going to be staying with us for a while,” Fish informed Bear that afternoon, calling from their apartment. “Is that okay with you?”
“That’s fine with me,” Bear said, cradling the cell phone as he drove. He was on his way to another hospital, looking for Blanche. “Probably better than him going back to that house.”
“No kidding. He was released from Mt. Sinai this afternoon, but he needs a practical nurse right away. Jean and Rose stopped searching to help him get settled in our apartment. Jean said she can stand in as long as she’s needed—she still has a few days before she’s due back at work—so I suggested she stay here in the apartment, and Rose too. It’s pretty tough on both of them right now. I figured you and I could go to a hotel, but Jean wants us to go sleep at her house.”
“You can go, but I’m not planning on sleeping tonight,” Bear said.
“I understand,” Fish said. “Well, I suppose you could call the meeting I had with the Mirror Corporation and Elaine’s lawyers ‘productive.’”
“Was it?”
Fish blew out his breath. “Well, at least we’ve found a motive for Elaine’s irrational actions. The courts should like this, if we can prove to them that she was the one who framed us. Like Charles told us, if we were convicted for drug possession, we would have been cut out of Dad’s will. And everything would have gone to Elaine. It seems he was only going to give her a minimal amount, figuring that she had her investment company to depend on. But now it seems Mirror Corporation is in big, big trouble. There’s been some, shall we say, misappropriation of funds going on, and the blame for that seems to be laid at Elaine’s office door. I remember that she was a big spender, but this gives a new meaning to the word ‘big.’ The company would have gone under unless their corporate debts were paid off. All due the first of September.”
“She was gambling it would all work out,” Bear said. “That Dad would be dead or in a coma by August 15th and that we would be cut out of the will, so she could have all the money to herself.”
“That would have balanced the scales, as she would have had power of attorney if he went into a coma. But now, it’s a huge mess. Fortunately, Dad isn’t liable for most of her losses. He seems to have had the sense to keep his assets away from her control.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s handling it okay. Jean and Rose are hanging in there. I have to say that Jean’s a great nurse. I have no idea what kind of medical help Elaine hired to take care of him at his home, but they must have been rather lousy. At least he’s in good hands now. He’s not exactly cheerful, but you can tell the change
has been for the better. Mrs. Foster has been reading to him, too, and he seems to appreciate that.”
“Good.”
“Right now Rose is handling the funeral arrangements for Elaine, and doing quite well.”
Bear heard Rose in the background say, “Why thank you, Mr. Fish.”
“Good redhead. Helpful redhead,” Fish returned. “So any sign of Blanche?”
“No,” Bear had expected the question, but wasn’t prepared for the sense of failure that overwhelmed him. “She’s vanished. I’ve been checking for a nameless girl with her description, but so far, nothing. I just called the police again to check. No nameless girls at any of the hospitals in Manhattan.”
“Did you check under her name? Despite everything, she might have been conscious enough to give a name.”
“Yes, but nothing there either.”
“Let’s hope Elaine didn’t dump her in the river,” was Fish’s grim response. “Rose still thinks Blanche may have come to her senses and been able to escape somehow.”
“Rose didn’t see her,” Bear said in a low voice, and Fish was silent. Bear’s heart sickened inside him.
“Well, I’m at the apartment still, and I’ll probably be here for a while. The paperwork is pretty hellish. I’m trying to figure it out so I can make sure Dad understands it himself. He was the vice-chairman of Mirror, so they’re going to come to him with some of this stuff.”
“Do you need me? Should I come back?” Bear asked.
“Are you kidding? No, keep looking. That’s the most important thing right now. The money stuff will sort itself out. It always does.”
IV
Alone. Cut off from life, but cheated of death. Suspended between two worlds.
She had seen it coming at her for so long, but her foresight had paralyzed her instead of forearming her. And now it had her in its jaws, slowly crushing her.
She was vaguely aware of doctors by her bed, consulting, shaking their heads. And she realized what that meant. A permanent coma. Trapped for life.
No hope.
She spun around in the stillness, trying to find something to hold onto. Was there anything that remained?
…O God, come to my assistance.
O Lord, make haste to help me.
Make haste.
V
By Tuesday morning the digoxin levels were down to normal in Nora’s bloodstream, but she remained in a coma. That morning, Father Bernard took over watching Nora so that Father Francis could come back. Matt was to go next. Leon volunteered to pick the priest up after his shift. Father Bernard told him to come early.
“I asked the Catholic chaplain to let us use a small meeting room at the hospital. That way you and I can have our discernment meeting as we planned.”
“Sure thing,” Leon said, trying to be nonchalant.
But he wasn’t prepared for Father Bernard’s bombshell, which the older friar quietly dropped in the midst of that meeting.
“What?” Leon stared at his novice master. He was hoping the older friar had been kidding.
But Father Bernard was serious. “I think you should examine your vocation a little more in depth, Leon,” he said, his dark eyes looking into the younger friar’s. “You have the makings of a good priest in you. I suspect that you haven’t thought about it as much as you should.”
Leon squirmed. He had always heard Father Bernard had the gift of reading hearts, and suspected that God and his novice master had been talking to each other behind his back. “Father, I just don’t think I’m the sort of guy God has in mind when He creates a priest. I’m just—I don’t know, too much of a loudmouth.”
“Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be an impediment to ordination,” Father Bernard gave a tiny sigh. “But seriously, Leon, after you take your temporary vows, I think you should start taking some introductory courses at the seminary this fall. And while you’re doing that, I want you to listen very closely to God. You may find His direction will surprise you.”
Leon spread his hands dejectedly. “I promised to be obedient, so I’ll obey,” he said at last.
“Is there anything that’s holding you back?” Father Bernard probed. “Are you afraid of anything?”
“Yes.” Leon hung his head, crestfallen.
“Can you tell me what it is?”
“Sure.” Leon paused, looked at the ceiling, and then let out his breath. “It’s school.”
“School,” Father Bernard scratched his ear as though he hadn’t heard correctly.
“I hate school. I barely survived college. I can’t bear the thought of going back, even to become a priest.”
“You can’t be serious?” Father Bernard asked with a smile.
“You might think it’s funny, but it’s not,” Leon protested. “Four years of seminary—it’s like four years of solitary confinement to me. I could put up with the priesthood, but I don’t think I could listen to lectures and take notes for one year, let alone four.”
Father Bernard crossed his arms and looked at Leon, still chuckling. “It’s really not so bad, Leon. But it’s not the biggest trial you’ll ever face as a priest. I survived it. If God is calling you, you will too.” He got to his feet. “Let’s go back to see Nora. Then we should leave.”
They prayed the rosary beside Nora until Matt arrived. While they were chatting at the doorway of Nora’s hospital room, Matt looked over his shoulder. “Oh no.” Leon saw Jim Hornberg coming towards them down the hospital hallway.
“There you are!” He came towards them, a solemn expression on his face, but his eyes were a bit more wide-awake. “I heard your distressing news.” He looked at Nora’s white face, and shook his head, seemingly genuinely sad. “Such a shame,” he said. “And so young!”
“How did you find out?” Leon asked.
“Oh, news travels quickly over the grapevine,” Jim said. “I was talking to the chaplain here about the diocesan collection, and I thought I would stop by. Is there any chance she’s going to come out of it?”
“We don’t know,” Father Bernard admitted.
“You boys certainly have a way of making waves,” Jim shook his head.
Leon cocked his eye suspiciously at Father Bernard.
As Father Bernard and Leon left, Jim followed them out, still asking them questions about Nora’s condition. Leon was trying to adjust his attitude towards being friendlier towards Brother Jim, as they walked out into the parking lot.
Brother Jim made as if to take his leave, but then he paused, turned back to Father Bernard, and said, “So, forgive me for saying this at such a hard time, Bernie, but you surely don’t expect that the diocese is going to pay for this?”
Brother Leon, who never would have dreamed of calling his novice master “Bernie,” stared at the man in stupefaction. Father Bernard also looked a bit disoriented.
“We hadn’t exactly considered...” he admitted. “Why are you asking?”
“Well, you should start thinking about that. You know comas can last for years. Does this girl have any family that you know of?”
“I’m sure she does, but...”
“What are you going to do if you can’t find her family and she needs hospice care? Who’s going to take care of her?”
“We will,” Leon said.
Brother Jim looked at him with mixed surprise and amusement. “Oh, really? I hadn’t realized this was part of the plan—and neither did the chancery, I’m willing to make a bet. But seriously, Bern, you can’t expect to foot someone’s medical bills for life, just like that. There’s such a thing as Christian charity, but we all know there’s harsh reality too. Suppose you find her family, and they turn out to be poor? They’re not going to be able to pay for lifelong hospice care, maybe not even her hospital bill.”
“So we just starve her to death?” Leon spoke up again fiercely.
“There you go again, Leon, putting things into such judgmental black-and-white terms.”
“So what are you suggesting?” Leon repeat
ed, and folded his arms and stared at the man.
“I’m just trying to show you that these situations are far more complex and nuanced than...well, there’s the ideal of the sanctity of human life and dignity and then there’s the reality: medical bills, quality of life, qualitative care...and you mentioned death. Don’t we all believe there’s more to life than just this mundane world? Shouldn’t we consider whether or not you’re keeping someone from fulfilling their appointment with eternal life?”
“If you’re talking about your own appointment with eternal life, I agree,” growled Leon.
Jim laughed. “Temper, temper, Leon. I always said you weren’t cut out for religious life. Just because you managed to get into a renegade order doesn’t mean a thing about your psychological fitness, as I’m sure everyone will find out.”
Father Bernard said quietly, “I think, Jim, that we’re going to use the old-fashioned resource in this case.”
“And what’s that?” the man smiled at him condescendingly.
“Pray for a miracle,” Father Bernard said. “Let’s go, Leon.”
“A miracle!” Brother Jim hooted. “Holy cards and hand grenades! Storm those heavens!” Chuckling, he turned back to his car, a very nice Cadillac.
Leon called to the older man as he opened the door. “Let me ask you something, Jim.”
“What?”
“What exactly do you do for a living?”
Brother Leon and Brother Jim, the young friar and the old, exchanged looks for a moment, then Jim’s expression soured. He got into the car and turned on the ignition, which answered him smoothly.
“Now Leon,” Father Bernard remonstrated with the novice, as he coaxed the engine of their rusty Toyota back to life again. “Patience under trials.”
“I suppose I need a penance?” Leon asked, rubbing his forehead.
“Yes. You are to pray for Brother Jim, that he gets to heaven before you do,” the older friar directed.