Higher Power

by Dilloway, PT

  “I asked her what was wrong and she kept going on about her brother. It was all her fault that he died. She knew he and some buddies were throwing a Halloween party on the beach, but she didn’t tell her parents, even though the weathermen were calling for a big storm that night. Well, I guess he and his friends were on the beach, carrying on and having a good time until a big wave came up and swept him right into the ocean. They never did find the body. Poor girl.”

  Max thought of Sarah’s first nightmare. It made sense now. The picture of her brother’s graduation and the wave carrying her into the ocean symbolized her guilt at doing nothing to prevent his death. His thoughts turned to his parents and the nightmares haunting him, how powerless and guilty he felt for their deaths. But Sarah had not started the party or created the wave. “Is that what killed her parents?”

  “Oh, no, they didn’t die until almost five years later. They both got cancer around the same time. She had it in the breast and he had it in the prostate. I think the mother died first. They went only a few months apart. Kind of romantic in a way, isn’t it?”

  “I guess. What happened that night she came here? Did she say anything else?”

  “No, after that I gave her a little warm milk and put her in my daughter’s bed. Even loaned her some of Cindy’s clothes. They didn’t fit very well, but they covered the important parts. Sarah is a lot taller than Cindy. Cindy took after me in that way.” Max considered asking about the exact clothes, but decided not to make it an issue. That must have been where the ill-fitting pink T-shirt and sweatpants had come from.

  “How long has she lived next door to you?”

  “About three years. She is such a lovely girl. Sometimes in winter after it snowed she’d come by and shovel the walk for me. Whenever Cindy was home, the two of them would go out at night. Like peas in a pod those two were. Of course Sarah was much prettier, but don’t tell Cindy I told you.”

  “Is Cindy at school now?”

  “No, she should be back in a few hours. She’s working part-time at the Wal-Mart until school begins. A little extra pocket money and she gets an employee discount on everything. Do you want to meet her?”

  “That’s all right, I—”

  The floorboards creaked as Mrs. Winchell stood up. Then Max felt a picture frame shoved into his hands. “I know you can’t see her, but she is pretty in her own way. Got her mother’s stocky figure, but she got her father’s lovely dark hair. I keep telling her she needs to let it grow out, but she won’t let it go any farther than her chin. Such a waste I tell her, but she doesn’t listen to her old mother.”

  “If it’s all right, I should get going.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Do you need a ride? I can’t drive so well at night anymore, but as long as we go slow, it should be fine.” Max envisioned them running off the road and falling into the ocean while she kept chattering the whole way down.

  “No thanks. Can I use your phone?”

  He called for a taxi to pick him up and then went outside, rejecting Mrs. Winchell’s offer of a few lemon bars for the road. He stood outside on the curb and then out of curiosity made his way next door to where Sarah’s house had once stood. The smell of ash and smoke still hung in the air, reminding him of her nightmares.

  He touched a line of police tape and didn’t venture any farther, but he could imagine the piles of burnt wood and scorched metal. All her pictures and relics from the past were gone, erased by the fire. When she awoke from the coma, she would have nothing but her memories.

  As the taxi sounded its horn from Mrs. Winchell’s curb, Max smiled. Yes, of course. She would wake from the coma with nothing to remind her of her old life.

  Chapter 13

  Sarah opened her eyes to an unfamiliar voice calling her name. At first everything was a white blur, then the world came into focus as a hospital room and a little bald man in a white coat. “Sarah? Can you hear me? This is Dr. Lee.”

  Her throat felt too dry to form words. She had a vague recollection of a Dr. Lee. She remembered white walls all around her and wanting desperately to get out. The last thing she could remember was Dr. Lee touching her tenderly, telling her everything would be all right. Had it been a dream?

  Dr. Lee tipped a cup of water to her lips and she drank enough to wet her throat. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice sounding like a frog’s.

  “You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

  She tried to think back. There were so many images. She saw herself as a little girl and even a baby. A house. There was a house and then a storm. Smoke, she smelled smoke. “I’m not sure. It’s all jumbled together. What happened?”

  “You took a bump on the head in a car accident, but you’re all better now. You’ve been in a coma for the last two weeks.”

  “Two weeks? It felt a lot longer than that.”

  The doctor nodded. “That’s to be expected. Whenever the body sustains such a blow to the head, there is always confusion, loss of memory, and false memories. These effects can last a lifetime.”

  “How long until I can leave here?”

  “Not long. A day or two for observation and then you can go home.”

  “Home,” she repeated the word uncertainly.

  “Now, I think there are some people who want to see you.”

  “There are? Who?”

  The door opened and she screamed as her parents walked into the room, their faces beaming. “Sarah!” Mom said. “You’re awake. When they told us I didn’t believe it.”

  Mom wrapped her arms around Sarah, who tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t right. You’re dead. Both of you. I went to your funerals.” She remembered them lying in their coffins, Dad in a three-piece suit and Mom in her favorite dress. They had died only two months apart; she didn’t even have time to grieve for Mom before Dad died.

  “No, honey, we’re right here,” Dad said. Dad had never called her “honey” in her life. The closest he came to an endearment was using her first name instead of “you.”

  “This has to be a dream,” Sarah said.

  Mom started to cry, something she had never done, not even after months of painful cancer treatments. Mom never showed weakness in front of her constituents, let alone her children. “Honey, please, this isn’t a dream. Why are you talking like that?”

  Dad took Mom into his arms, which Sarah had never seen him do before. This all felt like an episode of The Twilight Zone. At any moment she expected to hear Rod Serling’s voice over the loudspeakers. Dr. Lee had been standing at the back of the room with an almost guilty expression on his face. Now he stepped forward and smiled. “Please, don’t be alarmed. This is a normal aftereffect of the coma. Our unconscious minds can create images and experiences so real we believe them.”

  “I don’t understand. You’re saying I made up my parents dying? Why would I do that?”

  “Well, psychology is not my field of expertise, but it seems to me that in your comatose state, your mind created the deaths of your parents as a way to cope with not being able to communicate with them in the real world.” The doctor leaned down to take her hand. His touch was gentle, like a lover’s. She thought back to her dream. “You might notice a lot of things that seem strange or out-of-place as you try to adjust from the unconscious world to the real one. It’s only natural.”

  “Thanks, Doctor.” She paused for a moment. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “No, but I feel like I know you after the last two weeks you’ve spent with us. I’ll be sorry when you go.” Then Dr. Lee’s face turned red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s fine.” She looked up at Mom and Dad. Could everything have been a dream? It had seemed so real. She couldn’t remember ever having a dream like that before.

  Dad reached down to his belt and took out his cell phone. He dialed a number and, after greeting someone, handed the phone to her. “There’s someone else who wants to talk to you.”

  “Hi Si
s.”

  She dropped the phone at the sound of Danny’s voice. Then she picked it up and said, “Danny?”

  “It’s me. I’m still in Miami, but I’ll try to get the next flight out. How are you feeling?”

  “I don’t know. It’s all a little strange. I thought you were going to Duke.”

  “No, I wanted to follow in Big Sister’s footsteps.”

  “Right.” She didn’t know what else to say. She and Danny had fought constantly since they were kids. He wouldn’t have gone to Miami even if they’d given him a full-ride scholarship and the promise of fucking the entire cheerleading squad.

  “Look, I’m sure you’ve got a lot else on your mind, so I’ll let you go. Love you.” Sarah turned off the phone and handed it to Dad with numb fingers. That couldn’t have been Danny. This was all some elaborate practical joke with actors playing her family. They were probably on a soundstage right now with hidden cameras buried in the walls.

  “Can I be alone for a little bit?” she said.

  Mom reached down to touch Sarah’s hair. “Of course you can, dear. We’ll be right outside. Do you need anything?”

  “How about some make-up?”

  “Sure, honey, you can have mine.” Mom reached into her purse and took out a kit. Sarah opened a compact and saw her face in the mirror for the first time. Except, this wasn’t the face she remembered.

  Her hair was more golden than she remembered and her skin too tan and smooth. She looked down at her chest and gasped. Her breasts were larger than before and her stomach firmer. This was the body of a swimsuit model or actress, not a marine biologist. “How old am I?” she asked Mom.

  “Twenty-eight next week.”

  “That can’t be right. I’m thirty-four. What’s going on?”

  Mom put a hand on Sarah’s cheek. “It’s all right, honey, remember what the doctor said. We’ll let you get some rest.”

  The room emptied and Sarah stared at her reflection. Even her cheeks, lips, and nose seemed different than she remembered. She thought of what Dr. Lee had said and it made sense on the surface, but she couldn’t believe she’d created such an elaborate fantasy in only two weeks. Danny had died when she was twenty; did that mean the last fourteen years were all a dream?

  She looked around her bed and saw all the flowers, cards, and balloons people had sent. The entire staff had signed the card from the aquarium, even Lucille had written, “We miss you” above her name. She didn’t know who had sent some of the other cards, but she doubted anyone would have sent her a card in the life she remembered.

  Whether this or her other life was a dream, at least in this life she seemed to have friends. Her family was still alive and loved her in a way she couldn’t remember. She was young and beautiful to boot. If this was the real world, then great, or if it was a fantasy, why not ride it out?

  She pressed the call button and asked the nurse if her parents were still there. A moment later, the door opened and they stood in the doorway. Sarah held out her arms and the three of them hugged. “I’m sorry for doubting you,” Sarah said.

  “We understand, honey,” Dad said. “This is all a big shock, I know.”

  Mom pulled back and wiped at her eyes. “But we’re here for you. No matter what. Any time you need us, we’re here. We love you, Sarah.”

  “I love you too,” Sarah said. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said those words to them.

  Two days later, Dr. Lee and a nurse helped her into a wheelchair. “I can walk,” Sarah said.

  “It’s just a precaution,” Dr. Lee said. They came to the hospital doors and she saw a black SUV with Dad at the wheel. After she stood up, Dr. Lee gave a business card to her. “Call me if anything changes. I’ll see you back here in two weeks.”

  “All right. Thanks, Doctor.” She embraced him and then tucked the card into her hip-hugging jeans, the kind she could wear now that she didn’t have to worry about love handles.

  Mom emerged from the back of the SUV to help her into the backseat. “When did you guys buy this?” Sarah asked.

  “This is your car,” Mom said.

  “Mine?” The last car she remembered driving was a 1996 Honda Accord with a muffler held on with a wire coat hanger and a blue fender on the right side that didn’t match the rest of the car’s white exterior.

  “Of course. You bought it after your promotion.”

  “Promotion?”

  “To director of the aquarium. You don’t remember?”

  “I guess not.” As the car began to move, Mom patted Sarah’s arm and gave her an encouraging smile. Head of the aquarium? She was only twenty-eight years old; how could she run the entire place? I must be a real go-getter, she thought.

  Instead of turning right to head back to Fishtown, Dad turned left and began heading up to Finley Bluff. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “We’re taking you home,” Dad said.

  “Do you guys live on the island?”

  “No, we’ll only stay for a little while, until you’re settled,” Mom said.

  The SUV pulled into the driveway of a huge brick house on the top of Finley Bluff. She had read about these houses and how much they cost; there was no way she could afford one. Well, not as a simple marine biologist. As the head of the whole aquarium, she must make a lot more money.

  “We’re home,” Dad said.

  “Wow,” Sarah said. Dad came around to open the door and help her and then Mom down. He put an arm on Sarah’s shoulder as they went up the front steps and to the front door. Before she could reach for the doorknob, the door opened on its own.

  Danny stood in the foyer, looking exactly as she remembered the night of his graduation. That couldn’t be right; they were born only two years apart. If she was twenty-eight then he should be twenty-six. In the next moment, seeing his smiling face there before her, it didn’t matter. She hugged him, pressing a wet cheek against his shoulder. Dad was right: she was home.

  Chapter 14

  Lindsey met Max at the door and closed it behind her as he took his usual seat. Instead of sitting behind her desk, he listened to her breath come out in snorts like an angry bull’s as she paced. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Max, I think we need to have a serious discussion.”

  “About what?”

  “I want to know what’s going on with you,” she said. All the friendliness and cheer had drained from her voice. He thought back to fourth grade when he’d been sent to Principal Smith’s office for throwing his math book in the direction of a girl for saying he liked Alicia Hauptmann. The book hit his teacher in the face, breaking a lens of her glasses.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t blind her!” Principal Smith roared, not seeming to catch the irony. He continued to rant about Max’s irresponsibility until Max’s parents arrived to take him home; the principal suspended him for two weeks.

  Lindsey didn’t begin screaming, but the chilly monotone of her voice made Max squirm in his seat the same way. “I thought we trusted each other. I thought you were making progress. Then I hear from Mrs. Garnett that you stole another patient’s television and barricaded yourself in your room.”

  “Sheila lent it to me. I was just—”

  “I’m not through yet.” She stopped pacing in front of him. “Apparently, you’re awake to all hours of the night playing music, listening to the television, and using a typewriter, keeping the other patients up. The only time you come out of the room is to use the restroom or go out. Maybe half the time you check in with Mrs. Garnett to even say where you’re going. The rest of the time no one has any clue where you are.”

  “It’s hard to explain,” Max said. “Sometimes I feel like going out. I just feel like taking a walk somewhere.”

  “That’s commendable Max, and I’m glad you’re taking an interest in the world, but don’t you see this is antisocial behavior? Locking yourself in your room and sneaking out alone is not helping you integrate into society. It’s just giving you a bigger
room in a much bigger institution.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s more. Last Sunday after services I met with Pastor Robbins. We both agree your piano playing is superb, but you aren’t even trying to fit in with the congregation. He says you’re out the door before the people in the back pews. He’s worried you’re offended or embarrassed to be there. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. I like playing, but the religious stuff really isn’t for me.”

  “Max, no one expects you to deliver a sermon on the twelve disciples. Pastor Robbins and I just want you to make yourself available to socialize.”

  “OK.” He didn’t want to explain the reason why he left services so quickly. After his first, a pack of old women descended upon him to express their amazement at how well a blind man could play. He knew they meant well, but he felt like a circus freak or a dog who’d learned a clever new trick. Dad always said to be proud of his talent, but he couldn’t stand being around people who only appreciated the fact he could play at all. If he’d played “Pop Goes the Weasel” on a toy piano they would have given him the same reception.

  “Please, Max, I want to help you. Remember what I said the first day: you have to want to help yourself. I’m not sure anymore if you really want to be successful.”

  “I do.”

  She finally sat behind her desk and violently shuffled papers around. “Let’s see, the last session we spent two hours going over the Victoria’s Secret catalog. I’m sure that was a good experience for you, but it was less than useful as therapy. Then the time before that you asked to go out to the parking garage so I could describe the cars. I’ll admit I needed the exercise, but again, I don’t see how that helped you reintegrate into society. Damn it Jim, I’m a doctor, not a tour guide.”

  “Who’s Jim?” he asked, and then regretted it.

  “Never mind. The point is, it’s great that you’re curious about the world and everything you’ve missed in the last twenty years, but I can’t help thinking you’re using it as a shield to avoid discussing any real emotional issues.”