~Homeless~
For a few days Jason and Miranda had tentative peace together. There was an unspoken rule: don’t ask questions about Jason’s past. Follow that rule, and everyone could get along fine.
Every morning was a lot of “wash, rinse, repeat.” They packed up camp and walked the grassy bank following the river until nightfall. At night the three of them set up the tent again, and Jason built a fire to boil drinking water. They had five old soda bottles that were carefully filled for the next day. Jason mentioned that sooner or later the river would hit a town. After opening the last two cans of corned beef hash for dinner the night before, Miranda hoped for sooner rather than later.
After they set up their tent that afternoon, Jason pulled out four bent granola bars from his backpack. “This is all that’s left,” he said grimly. “Tomorrow we’ll have to head back to town. Do a raid.”
“Oh fun!” Cassie bounced on her heels as she sat next to the fire. “What are we raiding?” She broke a piece off of the granola bar and handed it to Poppy.
“Whatever we can snag without getting caught.” Jason answered, breaking a stick over his knee. He threw it in the fire then glanced around camp for more.
Cassie’s eyes widened. She knew what that look meant: chore time. “Hey, Poppy and I are going to head over there for a bath.” She pointed to a spot in the river that broadened into a shallow pool.
Miranda watched her go, shielding her eyes from the sun to make sure her sister was safe in the water. When she turned back, Jason was studying her.
His cheeks glowed as he turned away.
The awkward silence grew. Finally, Miranda couldn’t stand it any longer. “Where are we raiding?
“We can’t afford to keep feeding that dog.”
“We’re not getting rid of Poppy.” Miranda put her hands on her hips and stared him down.
“Your sister just fed that dog one of our last granola bars.”
“Jason, if it’s between me or that dog, the dog is eating. My sister’s lost enough already.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, but didn’t say anything.
“Now, do you know where we are? How do you know we’ll find a town?”
With his knife, he pointed to the power lines trailing up the hill. “We’re not far. We’ll find some houses tomorrow, and probably a town. Don’t tell me you’re squeamish about stealing something. We don’t have a choice.” His hair hung in his face and he impatiently pushed it back. His green eyes caught hers again. “Unless you’re up for eating bark. Personally, I don’t care for the aftertaste.”
Miranda snorted and left to go find more firewood.
The sun was hot on her back and neck, even as low as it was on the horizon. A haze of tiny flies hovered above the grass as her steps stirred up the bugs in front of her. Miranda held her breath as she walked through the cloud. I'm not that hungry.
She heard the buzzing before she recognized what it was. In the next moment, the droning was all around her. On her calf, a thorny sting came like a fire needle piercing her flesh—and then another, this time on her neck. She screamed and batted at the dark cloud that swarmed her face.
“Miranda!” Jason yelled. “The water, Miranda! Go to the water!”
She was too panicked to respond, flailing crazily as they crawled up her shirt. Stumbling, she tripped over a rock. She choked off another scream out of fear the hornets would squirm into her mouth.
Strong arms wrapped around her and she was swung off her feet. Jason half ran with her down to the river. As soon as it was deep enough he dove in and submerged them both. He towed her underwater in the direction of the current away from the spot where he’d pulled them under. He dragged her a long way, and suddenly she fought for breath, but still he didn’t let her go. Finally, he released her and they both popped up coughing and gasping for air.
Miranda could barely see. One of her eyes was already swelling shut from the punctures on her face. Jason was hardly better. After spinning around a few times to make sure the swarm of hornets was gone, he swam over to her. Gently, he cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her head to inspect the stings.
“Do you have others?”
“I think. On my legs.”
With his hand holding hers and his arm around her waist, he led her to the shore and up the side of the bank.
“Sit,” he said, and helped ease her to the ground.
The stings were hard white lumps with angry red edges. He turned her arms over and looked up and down her legs.
“Sorry about this,” he whispered as he lifted her shirt and checked her back and stomach.
“They got you good, about fifteen stings, but you’re going to live.” He gave her a little half-smile, the one that she was already coming to love.
“They got you pretty good, too.” Miranda studied the two welts on his forehead with her good eye. “Almost like you have horns.”
“I bet it’s an improvement.”
“Yeah, I like my men with horns.”
He tried to arch an eyebrow, but failed against the swelling. “Stay here,” he motioned, then walked back to the river. At the water’s edge he scooped a handful of the black mud.
After climbing back he held it out. “I’ve come with your makeup.”
“Awesome. I’m sure I’ve needed it.”
With his thumb, he smeared the mud over the stings around her eye and cheek. The smile dropped from his face as he worked. “I’m sorry, Miranda.”
“It’s not your fault. I wish I knew where they came from.”
“The ground. Those hornets make their nest in the ground.”
“Yeah, well, they suck.”
He softly laughed and dipped his thumb back into his cupped hand. “You got that right.”
The mud was cooling and it did help. After a few minutes he had all of her welts covered.
“I feel like a Dalmatian,” she complained, examining her arms and legs.
She glanced up at him and caught him staring again. He quickly stood and moved away.
“Hey! Where you going?”
“My nursing duties are done,” he said, walking back to camp.
“Not so fast, buddy. I’m not going to be alone in this.” She climbed down to get some mud. “My turn.”
He paused, the smile a shadow on his lips. “Aww, come on.”
“You’ve been stung too!”
He sighed when he saw she wasn’t going to give up. Ignoring the mud in her hand, he walked back to the river and scooped up some of his own.
“Jason! You’re not going to give me the satisfaction of letting me put this on you?”
“Naw, I got it.” He rubbed it over his face and dabbed it on his arms and on the back of his neck. “Happy?” He flung the rest of the mud and rinsed his hands in the water.
“Yeah,” Miranda muttered half-heartedly, letting the mud fall from her hands to the ground.
“Great.” He glanced upstream, the black of the mud on his neck blending in to his dark t-shirt. “Now let’s go move the camp away from those demons.”
***
After they set up the tarp again, they walked down to the swimming hole to watch Cassie and Poppy. A large maple tree shaded the bank here, and they both stretched out under it. Jason grabbed a grass stem and chewed the end as he leaned against the trunk.
“You ever think about what you want to do when we make it to Seattle?” Jason asked.
Miranda ran the end of a grass stem around the welts on her leg. “School would be nice. Maybe someday.”
“What do you want to learn?” He squinted at her then, his eyes green slits, and then slid off one shoe with his foot. Doing the same to the other, he flexed his toes.
“Dude, those socks have had it.” Miranda shook her head.
“Yeah, next place we rob better be a clothes line.” He leaned back to watch a bird hopping along the branch over his head. “Though you don’t see too many of them any more.”
“Just when t
hey would have been handy.”
They grinned at each other.
“Well?” he asked again.
“Well, what? Oh, school. A nurse, maybe.”
He raised a swollen eyebrow. “Really? Or is that just something someone said you’d be good at?”
“What? Being a nurse is awesome.”
He sucked the grass stem back in his mouth. “Yeah, it is. Just doesn’t seem like you.”
“Hey guys!” Cassie called from the river. “Watch this!” They turned to watch Cassie throw a rock into the water. Poppy pounced on it, then lifted a dripping muzzle and let out a series of piercing barks for her to throw more.
“Great, Cassie.” Miranda gave her a weak smile and a thumbs up.
“Awesome trick,” Jason deadpanned, before turning dismayed eyes to Miranda.
Laughter erupted out of her. She glanced at him again and then slowly reached out to touch his hand with her finger. “Hey. You saved me today.”
He studied her finger on his hand. The muscles in his arm tensed, as if he wanted to pull away, but forced it to remain still. Then he looked into her eyes, one still puffy and mud splattered. He gave a wry grin.
“Any time. Just don’t plan on a career as a bee keeper”
“Those were hornets.” Miranda smacked his hand and moved away.
“If it makes you feel better, you’d probably be the cutest bee keeper around.”
“That does not make me feel better.” But she smiled. After a second, she picked at something in the grass. “A gift.” Miranda held her hand out. “Just for you.” She dropped the blue flower into Jason’s cupped hand.
“A flower?” He looked at her with a swollen eyebrow half raised in skepticism.
“It’s a forget-me-not,” Miranda giggled, then cut it off, cringing at being so dorky.
“What’s this for?” He rolled it in his hand, curious.
She licked her bottom lip. “It’s a reminder that I’ll never forget you.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. They didn’t say anything, both turning to listen to Cassie laugh and splash with the dog. Jason cupped his hand around the flower. He didn’t know she was watching when he dropped it carefully into his pocket.
A little while later, Cassie came dripping up to the tree. Her mouth dropped at the sight of them.
“What the heck? Army? I wanted to play!”
***
The next morning, after walking for a couple hours, they discovered train tracks cutting through the grass.
“Time for a detour,” Jason said. “Trains always lead to a town.”
They walked on the tracks silently for a while, Miranda on one steel rail and Jason the other. Cassie was far ahead throwing sticks for Poppy to chase and retrieve.
“You want to tell me about your mom?” Miranda asked, squinting in the bright sunlight.
“Nope,” Jason answered.
“How come?”
“Why’d you and Cassie run from home?” he asked pointedly.
Miranda pressed her lips together.
“See?” Jason said. “We all have our secrets.”
“How’d she die?”
Jason sighed and threw back his head. “If I tell you, will you quit pestering me?”
“Yes.” Miranda wobbled and flung out both arms for balance.
“Swear it?”
“I don’t swear.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Anyone ever tell you that you are annoying?”
“Nope.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Miranda felt a stab of guilt. She fanned her shirt front to let air in. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Jason stared at the track as he walked along, hands in his pockets. He sighed again. “Suicide.”
“Oh my gosh Jason! I’m so—”
“Stop right now. I don’t want your freaking pity.”
Miranda halted as though cold water had been thrown on her. “It’s not pity.”
They walked along silently for a few minutes.
“Can I ask one more question?”
“For crying out loud, what?”
She hesitated, her instincts telling her to shut up. Still it tumbled out. “Why’d she do it?”
His hand clenched in his pocket and felt the flower she’d given him the night before. His face contorted as anger surged through him. “Is there ever a good reason?”
Without a second glance back, he jogged ahead to catch up with Cassie. Once there, he made a big show of throwing Poppy’s stick and telling her she was a good dog.
“Crap,” Miranda muttered to herself.
Chapter Ten Present Day
The farther up the hospital floors a person goes, the more sterile and white it becomes, Miranda mused. Downstairs were the flashy fish tanks, and painted murals that dissolved into black-and-white portraits of the benefactors.
But stepping out of the elevator onto the critical care floor was where the sterility stood out. Grey-flecked white linoleum, white walls, the white nurses’ station. Silent except for endless beeping.
Miranda paused as the elevator door slid shut behind her. Just up the hall, the doctor was leaving Cassie’s room.
“Doctor, can I have a minute please?” She ran toward him, her heels clacking and echoing. He looked up from his tablet where he’d been furiously typing.
“I’m sorry. I just have a couple questions.”
He glanced at her hands. “Did you bring your book?”
Miranda smiled. “Yes, it’s already in the room. I’ve been reading it to her.” She pressed her lips together, before adding, “My sister lays there so still. Are you sure she can hear me? Why isn’t she waking up?” Every day was a disappointment at seeing her sister fade and become more pale and ghost-like.
Doctor Errod wrinkled his brow. “The brain is a tricky organ. We can’t make it get better. It heals at its own pace. She is improving, but she was without oxygen for a short period. Since then, she’s been medicated to keep her in an induced coma to encourage her body to heal. As far as if she can hear you, it has been documented that those in comas have been able to hear conversation around them.”
Her sister was being drugged up? “What sorts of medications? Is she going to be weaned off of them soon?’
“Right now, it’s a balance of medication. She is on blood thinners to prevent an embolism. But we don’t want her to hemorrhage again and risk a hysterectomy.
Miranda’s eyebrows rose. “A hysterectomy? What’s that got to do with a brain injury?”
The doctor frowned as he looked at her. He glanced back at his tablet, scrolling. After reading the chart, he took a moment before raising his eyes. “Miranda.” He touched her shoulder, his lips pressed together grimly. “She was nearly five months pregnant. The car accident…I’m sorry to tell you that her son has passed.”
Miranda gasped as though punched in the stomach. She grabbed on to the doorframe. Doctor Errod patted her shoulder again. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this.”
She nodded, her eyes tightly closed.
“Are you going to be okay?”
Opening her eyes, she saw his expression of concern. She rubbed her face with her palm, before nodding again.
The doctor began to walk away. “Wait.” She clutched his arm. “Before you go, who’s the father?”
“That I don’t know. It will have to wait until she wakes up.” With that, he continued his rounds, leaving Miranda still clutching the doorframe.
So many thoughts rushed through her head, like cattle all trying to escape out of one tiny gate.
How did this happen?
Who was the father?
HOW did this happen?
Each question was a boomerang coming back to hit her. You did this to her. This is your fault. You abandoned her.
I thought she was safe! She cried back. I couldn’t take the responsibility any more. I had to escape.
Her heart thundered wildly in her chest like it was trying to escape.<
br />
You’re so selfish. You ruined her life. You never protected her.
She only wants you, she wanted you…Her dad ’s voice superseded her own. You failed me.
I can’t do this. I can’t take this. The air was gone from the room. She started to hyperventilate.
“Miss, are you all right?” An orderly stopped next to her, his hand on a cart full of clean linens. She looked at him blankly and shook her head. Slowly, she sank down the doorframe, gulping for air.
“Nurse!” the orderly called.
Within a few seconds a nurse appeared, and then another. Miranda recognized the nurse that had helped her earlier. “Cup your hands over your face.”
“I…can’t…breathe..” Miranda gasped as her chest squeezed tight.
“You’re going to be okay. Breathe into your hands.” The nurse demonstrated. “Slow, easy breaths. There you go, shhhhh.”
Miranda held her hands over her face and inhaled the warm air.
“There you go, relax. I’m right here. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
Miranda tried to do what she said. Her face and hands tingled.
After a few minutes she felt like she was catching her breath. She slowly lifted her head. “Thank you so much.” Miranda’s cheeks grew warm. “I don’t normally do things like this.”
“It’s perfectly fine under the circumstances.” The nurse rubbed her arm and stood up. “Have you ever talked with anyone about anxiety attacks?”
Miranda looked at her, confused.
“Well, I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think anything is wrong with you,” the nurse quickly reassured her. “Our bodies handle stress in strange ways. It might be a good idea to meet with your doctor and explain some of your symptoms to him. See what they say.”
Miranda closed her eyes in shame. “I’m not normally a panicky person.”
The nurse nodded. “Most people who have these types of attacks aren’t. It’s not a sign of weakness. In fact, it’s often the strongest people who have them. Sometimes, something just has to give.”
Miranda shook her head.
The orderly ran up with a cup of juice. He held it out to the nurse. “Good job, Mike, thanks.” The nurse handed the cup to Miranda. “Drink a little of this and rest here a bit. When you’re ready, stand up nice and slow. If you need help, don’t be afraid to call for one of us, okay?”
Wrecked and Yours Page 6