Lucidity

by CJ Lyons

  The doctor nodded slowly. "So you're Alex's mother," he continued in a pleasant drawl.

  Kat opened her mouth but stopped when Grace cut her eyes at her. No telling what the next fantastic lie would be. "I was young. I made a mistake letting him go," Grace said quietly. "I didn't even see Alex before they took him away. But I knew him," she looked down at Alex and smiled. "Knew him as well as my own heart beat. You know that ache you get when there's a storm coming and the wind shifts direction?" She looked up at the man and saw him nodding, listening intently. His eyes were softer now, no longer narrowed in suspicion. "That split second of a vacuum when all the breath is sucked out of you and there's this painful emptiness that threatens to swallow you whole? That's the feeling I've had ever since Alex was torn from me--as if my breath was ripped away, shredded by the storm."

  Grace and Vincent stared at each other in silence. He straightened and sniffed at the air, testing for a sudden change in the wind.

  "Marie is a poet," Kat told Vincent with excitement and awe in her voice.

  "I can tell." He smiled down at Alex. "You're a lucky guy to have a mom like this." His words came slowly, a man hypnotized, immersed in an illusion he'd decided not to struggle against.

  Vincent sucked in his breath, blew it out again, and the spell was broken. Then he straightened and turned to Kat. "You are supposed to be in your room. The tech is waiting for your down load."

  Kat sighed dramatically. "That's all I am to you people," she told them as she made her exit. "A walking database of information. I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille," she said with a hand swept up to her forehead.

  "I've got to get these kids some new videos," Vincent muttered. "Alex is due for a therapy session now," he told Grace. "But he'll be back by the time we're done."

  "Done with what?" Alex asked.

  "Your mom and I have a lot to talk about."

  Grace leaned over, kissed Alex's forehead. "It's all right. I'll see you soon."

  He smiled and gave her a B-movie wink. "Bye, mom."

  CHAPTER 13

  Parlor Tricks

  "Nice scrubs," Vincent said as they walked down the steps to the first floor.

  Grace stuttered for a moment, then remembered her cover story. "The ER gave them to me. They had to cut my clothes off after--"

  "The accident." He didn't sound convinced.

  "Yeah." They emerged from the stairwell. Grace fought to keep her pace slow, uncertain, as if she couldn't find her way through the hospital in her sleep.

  They arrived at the glass doors leading into the cafeteria. Vincent held one open for her and a wave of noise crashed down on her. So many people crowded into one place.

  What if Lukas was hiding among the crowd, waiting for her? She took a step backwards, fought to control her breathing, to push back the crimson tide of panic.

  "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

  "Why not? You must be hungry after your," he paused, looked at her, "long trip. From Minnesota."

  "I don't have any money."

  He looked like he expected that. "Don't worry. It's on me."

  He took her by the arm and steered her inside. Insects buzzed at his touch, crawling under her skin and playing hopscotch along her nerve endings. She took several deep breaths and managed not to jump when the door banged shut behind her. See, that wasn't so bad. She'd always liked coming here before. For medical personnel, the cafeteria was a refuge, a place where you could talk about anything, get sustenance, maybe even relax for a few minutes.

  The smells of sausage and hash browns, pierogies with onions danced past her. Breakfast always was the best meal here. Her stomach growled in a most unladylike fashion and she couldn't help but smile. When she looked up again, Vincent was staring at her with those dark eyes of his and she wondered what he was thinking.

  "There's a table by the window. You grab it, I'll bring the food," he said. Grace hustled through the crowd, snagging the table just ahead of a giggling gaggle of nursing students. A few minutes later Vincent returned with a tray piled high with food which he divided between them.

  "So that must have been some accident," he said when they both came up for air, the plates cleaned. He gestured with his fork to the staples in her scalp.

  Grace nodded and took a sip of coffee.

  "And it looks like you've been in accidents before," he trailed off, giving her an opening. Grace ignored it--what could she tell him, anyway?

  "Let's talk about Alex," she steered the conversation onto safer ground.

  He raised an eyebrow. "All right. Do you seriously think you can just waltz into his life like this? Even if you are his mother, there's protocols to follow. I don't know, probably DNA testing or a court hearing--he's a ward of the county."

  Grace shook her head and set her coffee cup down. "He doesn't have time for any of that. He needs someone now."

  "You think you've got what he needs?" His voice rose and Grace flinched. "Unless you're willing to give him your heart and lungs, then I sincerely doubt it."

  "Alex is on the transplant list? How? He has no permanent home. Have you found someone to adopt him?"

  "What would you know about it? Besides, it took a lot of work and fast talking for me to get him on the list--"

  "Are you sure he even wants a transplant? Maybe after all he's been through, he just wants to die in peace."

  The fork that he'd been waving like a conductor's baton hit the tray with a clatter. "Like hell! What do you know about it--you don't know shit! And even if he said that, he's just a kid, he can't decide--"

  "Just because he's a kid doesn't mean he can't have a say in what happens to him. He's not dumb. He's been through it all, seen it all. Why don't you ask him yourself?"

  Now they were both yelling, turning heads all around them.

  "Like I'm gonna take advice from you! All you want is a roof over your head until you decide to go back to hubby dearest."

  "What are you talking about?"

  He twisted her left hand so that the emerald engagement ring and gold wedding band gleamed in the harsh fluorescent lights. "Your husband, isn't he waiting for you at home?"

  Grace faltered. How did he know about Jimmy? "Yes--I mean no, my husband died a few years ago." She jerked her hand away from him.

  "All right, not your husband. Then your boyfriend--don't lie to me, Marie. I know what kind of accident you really had."

  Before she could answer, his gaze left her to stare at a man entering the cafeteria. Grace froze. Helman--he couldn't find her, he might find a way to force her to stay. And she couldn't stay here. Vincent had been right about one thing, Jimmy was waiting. She had to get back home.

  "I have to go, there's a man I need to talk to," Vincent was saying.

  Grace nodded and turned her chair so that she faced the window and her back was to Helman and Vincent. She watched their reflection as they spoke for a moment. Vincent said he knew how she got the staples in her scalp. Did he really? Would he turn her in to Helman?

  She slid from her chair and, using a flock of medical students as cover, ducked past them and out of the cafeteria.

  "Who was that woman you were talking to?" Helman asked. "She looked familiar."

  "Her? Just a patient's mom." Vincent dismissed Marie D'Angelo as inconsequential. Couldn't risk Helman thinking he couldn't manage Alex's case, had allowed a con artist to worm her way past Vincent's guard. "Sir, I wanted to ask about my staff appointment--"

  Helman held up a hand. "This isn't a good time, Emberek. Get yourself clear of those damned lawyers and then we'll talk. Congratulations on convincing Kat Jellicle to finish her download. We'll have enough data to go to surgery by Friday."

  Vincent stared at the Chief. He had forgotten to talk to Kat, but he'd take credit if it kept him in Helman's good graces. "How's your other patient? Grace Moran?"

  To Vincent's dismay, Helman's brows arched together in a furious frown. "She's disappeared--never made it to the ECU yesterday."

  Rea
lizing that the Chief was in a bad mood and this was a poor time to enlist his support, Vincent began to edge away. Helman did an about face, reached out and grabbed his arm.

  "Maybe there is time in my schedule to help you," Helman said, leaning forward so that their heads nearly touched and no one could overhear them. "After you track down my missing patient."

  "She's not at home?"

  "No one answers the phone and I don't have time to go down there myself. I'm sure you understand the delicacy of the situation. I can't risk this getting out. Too many people wouldn't understand, might think that I was forcing the woman to have the surgery merely for my own glory." He straightened, clapped a hand on Vincent's shoulder as if they'd just sealed a pact. "But we both know that's not true. I'm the only one who can save Grace Moran's life. We have to find her, get her back here. It's imperative, Emberek."

  Vincent glanced down at the neurosurgeon's fingers digging into his shoulder. Oh yeah, he understood. A little quid pro quo. He'd save Helman's ass and find his AWOL patient. Then Helman would get Vincent his appointment to the medical staff.

  "Yes sir. I understand perfectly."

  "Good man, Emberek. You'd better get going. The sooner we get Moran up in the ECU and finish mapping her brain, the sooner I can operate." The surgeon rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Let me know immediately when you find her."

  Helman strode through the throng like Moses parting the Red Sea. Vincent stared after him, wondering what he'd just agreed to. What if Moran didn't want the operation? Could he force her?

  Helman had the psychiatrists on his side, but that didn't make him right. Vincent shook his head. Surgery was the only way to save the woman's life, that's all there was to it. Isn't that why he'd gotten into this business? To save lives?

  The image of Mary Nguygen's listless expression flashed through his mind. Vincent shoved his fisted hands deep into his lab coat pockets. He turned to take care of his other little problem: Marie D'Angelo. But the woman had vanished.

  Vincent blew out his breath in disgust. Probably off to cage another free meal from someone else. As long as she stayed far away from his patients, that was fine with him. He grabbed a cup of coffee to go and began planning his first step in finding Grace Moran, the first--and hopefully last--step to ensuring his future with the security of a permanent post on the medical staff.

  Helman's presence in the cafeteria was a not so subtle reminder that Grace was in danger as long as she remained at Angels of Mercy. But with Lukas on the loose, where was she safe?

  Nowhere. Not until she rejoined Jimmy.

  First, she had a promise to keep. Grace climbed the steps up to Peds. Alex was back from his therapy session, sitting in the playroom with the three younger girls.

  "Hi, Grace," Brittany called out as soon as she entered the glass-walled room. There was no one else there except the four children who sat huddled together at the table as if planning strategy for a major campaign.

  Tiffany slid a miniature chair out for Grace while Alex shuffled a pack of playing cards. "You're not playing poker, are you?" Grace asked with a mock frown.

  "Alex has a new trick," Brittany said.

  "He's a great magician, you know," Tiffany added as Alex blushed. "Do it again, for Grace."

  "He promised to show us the secret if we can't guess it for ourselves," Heather added in her breathless voice.

  A chill swept over the back of Grace's neck. She suddenly had the idea that they weren't talking about only a card trick. She watched as Alex carefully began to deal the cards into three piles in front of her.

  "Concentrate," he intoned in a stage voice. "This pile represents your past, this your present and this," he paused for dramatic effect, "your future."

  Jimmy's hand came down to rest on Grace's shoulder as Alex tapped each pile with his "magic wand", a tongue depressor covered with glitter. A shower of gold and silver rained down on each of the stacks of cards. Grace raised her hand, her wedding ring tapping against Jimmy's as she tried to control her shivering.

  "I don't know if I like this trick," she said. Alex's mouth twisted in disappointment and he looked away, obviously upset by her lack of faith in him.

  The girls turned their faces to her, nodding and smiling. "It's all right, Grace," Tiffany said. "It's only a trick."

  "And Alex is really good. Honest," Brittany added.

  Heather said nothing, but slid her hand over to squeeze Grace's free one for a brief moment. The girl seemed to look past Grace to meet Jimmy's eyes.

  Or where Jimmy's eyes would be if he was real and if anyone besides Grace could see him. Grace blew her breath out, ashamed at the tricks her mind played on her. It was just a kid's game, nothing to be afraid of.

  "Okay, Alex. Go for it. But there'd better be a million dollar lottery ticket in my future."

  Alex brightened and tapped the cards one last time. He lowered his hands over each stack, waving his fingers dramatically. "Your destiny is drawn to you," he said. "You cannot escape it."

  As he spoke, a single card separated itself from each stack, sliding free as if pulled by an invisible force. Grace smiled. Ah, this was the real trick. Nothing to do with fortune telling. She breathed easier.

  "Very nicely done," she said when three cards were arrayed face down before her. She clapped her hands. "I'm impressed. How did you do that?"

  Alex blushed again and held his hands up. "It's a secret."

  "Wait," Tiffany said. "You have to turn the cards over."

  "Oh. Sorry." Grace reached for the card signifying her past. Her fingers tingled with an electric shock as they touched it. She flipped it over. It was the Ace of Spades. The Death Card. Grace snatched her hand back.

  "That's not right," Alex said, furiously scanning the remainder of the deck.

  Grace couldn't help herself, she felt drawn to the other two cards. Jimmy's hand squeezed her shoulder as she took a deep breath and turned over the card representing her present. The Queen of Spades. But in this deck, the Queen held a sword through her head as if committing suicide. She smiled knowingly up at Grace, ruby lips parted in a grimace of both pain and ecstasy.

  Alex dropped the rest of the deck, cards spewing over the table in a flurry of red and black. None came anywhere close to the remaining card in front of Grace, as if there was an invisible force field protecting it. The room was silent except for the soft rustle of their breathing.

  Grace's hand trembled as she reached for the last card. The three girls watched her anxiously. Before she could touch the card, Alex's hand shot out, grabbed hers. "Don't Grace. I did the trick wrong, it's not the way it should be."

  Grace raised her gaze from the hypnotic blood-red swirls on the back of the card and met Alex's eyes. He looked almost tearful, his fingers clenched her hand as if this was life and death, not a mere parlor trick gone awry.

  "She has to," Heather whispered, tugging Alex's hand away from Grace.

  "It's her destiny," Brittany said.

  "You can't stop it," Tiffany concluded. All eyes turned to Grace. "Go on, Grace. You need to know what's coming."

  Grace hesitated, her hand hovering inches above the card. The air between her flesh and the piece of cardboard crackled, tinged with the blue of a lightning storm. She squeezed her eyes shut. Hallucinations she could handle, but this felt real--too real.

  Jimmy encircled both his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tight, the scent of Old Spice bathing her in warmth and strength. "It's all right, love," he murmured, his breath brushing the small hairs on her neck. "I'm here."

  She opened her eyes, slid the card from the table, turned it over. The Joker.

  "That's impossible," Alex's voice sounded thin, as if it had been torn from him. "I took all the Jokers out."

  They stared at the card resting between Grace's splayed fingers. The Fool juggled as he furiously pedaled a bicycle over a tight rope leading from solid ground into clouds. He grinned at Grace, seemed oblivious to his impending doom. One hand caught
a ball colored like a globe, clutched it to his heart. In the air above his head hung two more spheres--one a ball of fire, the other a ring of shimmering gold.

  "Girls, time for your meds," the chipper voice of a nurse broke the silence.

  Grace clenched the card tight against her chest as the girls pushed their chairs away and stood. Each of them patted her on the shoulder as they filed out, Heather stopping to run back and give her a big hug. For a moment Grace was sandwiched between Jimmy's warm embrace from behind and the vibrant youngster's from in front. With the card of her destiny caught between.

  Then the girls were gone and it was just her and Alex. And Jimmy, of course. Grace scooped up the scattered playing cards. All except the Joker.

  "I'm sorry, Grace," Alex said, rocking back and forth in his chair, even more agitated than he was when he'd accompanied her to the ECU. "It wasn't supposed to work that way. It worked fine for the girls, all hearts and happiness, I don't know what went wrong."

  He looked so upset that it about broke Grace's heart. She forced a smile and tousled her fingers through his hair. Jimmy blew her a kiss and vanished once more. "It's all right, Alex. Hey, I heard some good news. Dr. Emberek said he was arranging for you to have a transplant."

  Alex scowled and slumped further down into his chair. "That's not good news," he muttered. "Not to me."

  She was right, he didn't want the transplant. "Why not?"

  "What's it matter? No one listens to me anyway."

  "I'm listening. Why don't you want the transplant?"

  He pivoted the chair to face her, their knees touching. "It's not going to work, even if they do find a donor in time," he said. "And they won't."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "I'm not a dummy. I've done the research. The odds of finding a donor for a heart/lung transplant in someone my age with my histocompatibility factors are about 11%. And even if they did, it only means more time trapped in here." He gestured to his surroundings with contempt. "Like I'm a prisoner."