But it’s clear that we’re both worried, both scared for him.
“I did hear one of the nurses talking about the accident. There were two people on the other boat. A man and a woman. They still haven’t found them yet. Divers are going to start looking in the morning.”
The words are shocking. I feel the brunt of them like blows from a mallet. “Oh, no,” I say. “That’s so horrible.”
“She said someone had seen them at a bar on the lake earlier tonight. They were both pretty hammered.”
I shake my head at the senselessness of it. But I feel no anger. Just pity and sorrow that it had cost them their lives.
Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees.
– Thomas Stonewall Jackson
Bowie
THE VOICE IS TELLING me to wake up. “We need to know you’re with us, Mr. Dare. Come on now. Time to be awake.”
My eyelids feel as if they are weighted with boulders. Pushing them open feels like it will take a feat of strength I am not capable of.
But the voice continues to prod. So I continue to try. Until finally, light appears in the slit of my eyelids.
“That’s it. Keep going. You’re getting here.”
I try to say something, but my lips are so dry I can’t force words past them. I struggle to find the person attached to the voice. Her face appears before me, hazy and indistinguishable at first.
“There you are,” she says. “Back where you’re supposed to be.” She puts her hand over mine. “You’re going to be fine, Mr. Dare. You’ve had quite a night, but you’re going to be fine.”
There’s something I want to ask her, but the question won’t come to me. I grasp at it, like a child grabbing at snowflakes only to find they instantly melt and disappear.
Sleep pulls hard at me again, and just before I let it lull me back under, the question comes to me. Keegan and Carson. Are they okay?
Children are great imitators. So give them something great to imitate.
– Anonymous
Keegan
I END UP staying in the hospital overnight. My blood pressure is low, and the attending ER doctor said he wanted to err on the side of caution. And besides, he’d added with a grin, “You’ll give the nurses conversation for the next week. Half of them are Aimless addicts.”
Evan was allowed to stay in the room with me, even though it was against regular policy. I think the nurse who had brought me to my room felt sorry for him and didn’t want to be responsible for sending him home when he clearly wanted to be with me a while longer.
He wakes up not too long after I do. He stretches his long body and says, “I don’t care what they say, this is not a sleeping chair.”
“You looked a bit like a pretzel there.”
“I feel like one.”
A nurse walks in just then, carrying a tray of breakfast. I thank her for it and then ask, “Is there any way I can find out how Bowie Dare is doing. He went for surgery last night when we were both brought in.”
The nurse, a young woman who couldn’t be too long out of nursing school smiles at me and says, “I’ll go check. Be right back.”
True to her word, she returns in a couple of minutes, her voice low when she says, “I called upstairs to ask about him. He’s out of surgery and apparently is in stable condition.”
The relief hits me in such a wave that I drop back against the pillows, tears instantly welling in my eyes. “Oh, thank goodness. I’ve been so worried about him.”
“I’m glad I could let you know then, Ms. Monroe. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No. And thank you so much.”
She turns to leave the room, hesitating at the door and saying, “It’s really cool to meet you. I have been such a fan of your show.”
“That’s nice to hear. Thank you so much.”
She’s gone then. I glance at Evan, expecting to see the boredom I’ve grown used to seeing there when someone mentions my work in front of him. But it’s not boredom I see there now. It’s something more like pride, and it’s kind of unbelievable how nice that feels.
A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.
– Charles Darwin
Bowie
I DON’T REALLY know why I’m surprised to see her, but I am.
Keegan stands in the doorway to my room, smiling as if she couldn’t be happier to see me. “Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I say, my voice still raspy from the aftereffects of the anesthesia.
“You have no idea how good it is to set eyes on you,” she says, walking over to the bed and sitting on the chair beside me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, even though I can see that she appears to be.
“I’m fine.”
“And Carson?”
“He’s at my house. The couple who helped us last night took him there after we met the rescue squad. Evan just left to go home and feed him and take him out.”
“Thank you,” I say, hearing the relief in my voice.
We stare at each other for a few moments, and I have to think we’re feeling a lot of the same things. Gratitude. Awareness that we might very well have not been alive this morning.
“One of the nurses told me about the people in the other boat,” I say. “I asked and she didn’t really want to tell me, but I think I already knew.”
“It’s so sad,” Keegan says.
“It is. I wish I could have done something—”
“You did,” she says. “You saved our lives. I wish we could have helped them too. But it wasn’t possible. And I will never understand how you swam all that way, pulling Carson and me when you had that awful injury to your leg.”
“I never felt it until we stopped.”
“Thank you,” she says. “For what you did for me last night.”
“Actually, I think I’m the one who should be thanking you. The surgeon told me that your tourniquet for sure saved my life.”
“I was so scared I’d do something wrong. I’m glad I didn’t.”
We watch each other for a few moments, something real and amazing settling between us. There’s something about sharing life-changing experiences with another person that forever transforms what’s between you. I think about the two fairly carefree people who had played putt-putt together last night. And the two people we are this morning.
I’m not sure where we go from here. I just know that I have never been more grateful to be alive.
Goodness is the only investment that never fails.
– Henry David Thoreau
Evan
ANALISE CALLS AS I’m driving back to the lake from the hospital.
“Is it true about your mom and Mr. Dare?” she asks when I pick up.
“Yeah,” I say. “They’re both okay. But it was pretty scary.”
“I heard about it at the marina a few minutes ago. I’m so sorry, Evan. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I think we’re okay. I’m headed home for a bit to let Mr. Dare’s dog out. He’s at our house.”
“Want to pick me up on the way? I’ll be happy to keep you company.”
When I don’t answer right away, she says, “I mean, if not, that’s okay.”
“I’d like that, Analise,” I say, realizing how much I’d like to have her with me right now.
“Okay,” she says, sounding pleased. “I’ll be waiting.”
“See you in a few.”
“Great.”
“Hey, Analise?”
“Yeah?”
“You know what you said yesterday about not waiting until it’s too late?”
“Yeah,” she says softly.
“You were right,” I say.
Love unlocks doors and opens windows that weren’t even there before.
– Mignon McLaughlin
Keegan
A DOCTOR RELEASES me just before eleven. I’m waiting for Evan to come back and pick me up, so I return to Bowie’s room
to check in on him again.
He’s staring out the window when I walk over to his bed. “Hi.”
He glances at me as if I have surprised him. “Sorry,” he says. “Little lost there.”
“How are you feeling?”
“My leg hurts a bit, but not too bad.”
“Do you know how long you’ll have to be here?”
“The doctor said a couple of days. I guess infection is a concern. I’ll be on IV antibiotics for a bit.”
“Oh. That’s good. I mean better to be cautious.”
“Yeah. Would it be too much of an imposition to ask if Carson can stay with you until I’m released?”
“Of course not. Is there a particular kind of food I should get him?”
“You could go by my house and pick up some.”
“Sure. How do I get in?”
He tells me where a key is hidden outside the house, then says, “Are you headed home now?”
“Just waiting on Evan to get back.”
We’re both awkward, as if we don’t know what to say to each other. I finally say, “Are you all right, Bowie? I mean other than the obvious.”
“Yeah,” he says, and then adds, “Something weird happened during the surgery though.”
“What?” I ask, sitting down on the side of the bed and noticing the unsettled look in his eyes.
“I think I woke up while they were working on my leg.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, unable to hide my horror.
“I could hear the doctors talking. I could feel the sensation of what they were doing but no pain. I couldn’t move though, couldn’t tell them I was awake. It was as if I was paralyzed.”
“Bowie.” I put my hand on his, pressing hard. “That’s horrible.”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It was like I was trapped in my own body.”
“Did you tell the doctors after you woke up?”
“I did, actually. The anesthesiologist said it’s called ‘accidental awareness during general anesthesia.'”
“Is this something that happens often?”
He shrugs a little. “He said maybe 1 in 20,000 patients.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. I’m sorry, Bowie—”
“It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just strange. I still have this panicky feeling. Like I’m trapped and trying to get out of a place I can’t escape.”
“Did you try to let them know you were awake?”
“I tried to move my hands and feet, to slide off the operating table. But I couldn’t make myself move at all. It felt like I was dying.”
I lean in then and put my arms around him, wanting to erase that incredibly dreadful feeling. “That’s a terrible thing to go through.”
“Not something I ever imagined experiencing.”
I squeeze his hand, wishing I had some other comfort to offer. But this seems like one that only time will make fade. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No. It should give me something to write about anyway.”
“Maybe a horror novel.”
“Yeah.” I glance out the window and then back at him. “I can’t stop thinking about last night. I’ve never been involved in anything where someone actually died. Those poor people.”
“I’ve been thinking about it too.”
“I guess it’s not a first for you, considering the work you did.”
“No. But it never gets easier to handle.”
“I still hear his voice in my head. Calling for help.”
“I wish we could have gotten to him.”
“Did you hear the woman?’
“No.”
“I hope that means she never suffered.”
“There wasn’t anything we could do, Keegan. You have to let yourself believe that.”
“Logically, I know that. But the whole thing kind of feels like a nightmare. I woke up this morning, feeling for a second as though it might have been a dream and never happened.”
“Hey.”
I look up to find Evan standing in the doorway. I let go of Bowie’s hand as if we’ve just been caught making out in the living room. “Hey. You’re back fast.”
“Figured you’d be ready to get home.”
This is the first time I’ve heard him refer to our new house as home. It feels nice to hear it. “That does sound good. I wish Bowie didn’t have to stay.”
“I’ll be fine,” Bowie says. “And thank you for taking care of Carson.”
“Not a problem,” Evan says. “He was snoozing on the couch when I left. And it’s pretty cool that Mom doesn’t seem to be scared of him. By the way, can I get a dog now, Mom?”
“You might make an excellent attorney,” I say.
“He does have a knack for finding an angle,” Bowie says, smiling a little.
Evan shrugs. “You take the opening when you see it.”
I get up from the side of the bed and look at Bowie. “I do feel guilty leaving you here.”
“Not to worry. I’m good.”
“We’ll check in on you later then,” I say. “See ya’.”
“See ya’,” he says.
“YOU REALLY LIKE him, don’t you?”
Evan asks the question once we’re back in Franklin County, headed toward the lake. He’s driving, and I’ve been resting in the passenger seat with my eyes closed.
“Who?” I ask, even though I know who he’s talking about.
“Bowie.”
“He’s a good friend. A good neighbor.”
“And that’s all?” he asks, sounding skeptical.
“Evan, we barely know each other.”
“Yeah, but I know how you usually are with men.”
“Oh, you do?”
“I do. Ninety-eight percent of them don’t pass the care-to-spend-time-with-you mark. And the other two percent rarely make it to a second date.”
“I can’t deny any of that. I learned a long time ago that it’s much easier to never open a door in the first place than it is to close it when something doesn’t work out.”
“Seems like you’ve opened the door.”
“Maybe just a crack.”
Evan looks over at me. “I’m glad. You need someone nice in your life.”
I hear a maturity in my son’s voice that I’ve never before heard. It makes me at once happy and sad. “You’re growing up, you know that?”
“Don’t let the exterior fool you,” he says, teasing.
“I won’t,” I say.
He reaches over and puts his hand over mine. “I’m really glad you’re all right, Mom.”
I try to answer him, but I can’t seem to get any words out. I squeeze his hand back and look out the window instead.
The first step toward change is awareness. The second step is acceptance.
– Nathaniel Branden
Bowie
I TRY TO TELL her I’ll get another way home, but Keegan insists on picking me up when I’m released from the hospital. A nurse wheels me outside to meet her just before noon, three days after the accident.
“I’m sure you’re ready to go home,” she says, just as Keegan pulls up to the entrance.
“Yes,” I say.
“And your wife is right on time to get you,” she says.
I don’t bother to correct her because I don’t want to extend my stay even for the duration of a conversation. I’ve never been fond of hospitals, thankful for the good they do, but ready to not be here.
She opens the Range Rover door for me. I stand up from the wheelchair, not putting weight on my right leg but still managing to shift into the passenger seat.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Take care, now,” the nurse says and shuts the door.
“Hey,” Keegan says, looking at me with a smile. “You look like yourself now.”
I laugh and say, “Glad to hear it.”
“Your color is back and everything,” she says by way of explanation.
“I feel like myself too,�
�� I say. “Just glad to be leaving that place. The thing about a hospital is the longer you stay, the sicker you start to think you are.”
“That experience when you were in the OR, it shook you up, didn’t it?”
I glance out the window, considering my answer. “Maybe everyone has a deep down fear of something. Mine is being trapped in a place I can’t get out of. My work started to feel like that at some point. But I never imagined being trapped inside my own body.”
She reaches over and puts her hand on my arm, as if to remind me I’m here and not there.
“The funny thing is I think it reminded me of how claustrophobic my old life was. And how glad I am to have the life I have now. Simple as it is.”
I feel Keegan studying me and let myself meet her gaze.
“I’m beginning to really appreciate simple,” she says.
We don’t hurry to look away from each other. I see in her eyes awareness of a shared experience that will forever bond us whether we continue to know each other or not.
“Anywhere you need to go?” she asks in a soft voice.
“I could use a new phone. Do you have time to stop?”
“I booked you for the entire day,” she says. “Where to?”
WITHIN AN HOUR, I have a new phone. Keegan ended up replacing hers at the same store, creating a new contract with a local number. One of the employees recognizes her, and a small circle of customers and store workers gather around to ask for her autograph. I stand back and watch how she treats them like old acquaintances, answering questions about the show and whether it will continue on without her.
We’re headed back to the lake when she says, “Sorry about that.”
“The fan stuff?”
She nods.
“I like watching you in action.”
She smiles and says, “What do you mean?”
“You’re just kind to people.”
She focuses on the road ahead for a moment, then says, “I’d really rather have that said about me, more than just about anything.”
Dragonfly Summer (A Smith Mountain Lake Novel Book 2) Page 13