Sabre said, “We’ll let them know you’re here, but you can’t get in to see him just yet.”
Dana pushed herself into Sabre’s space, their faces about six inches apart. Sabre smelled the alcohol on her breath. “I need to see Marcus.” Hostility emanated this time.
Bob touched Dana on the shoulder. “I’ll check on him. Wait here.”
Dana shook her head, flopped down in a chair, and started to cry. The cry soon turned to a wail. All eyes in the waiting room were on her. Sabre sat down next to her and put her hand on Dana’s, trying to calm her. “Dana, if it helps at all, your mother is doing better. Would you like to go see her?”
Dana flung Sabre’s hand away and screamed, “She can go to hell!”
Bob returned and sat next to Dana. He put his hand on her shoulder. Sabre caught his eye and he removed his hand. Bob was used to touching people in distress. He often made physical contact with his clients when he spoke to them. He always hugged Sabre when he comforted her, but this client was different. He was in dangerous territory.
“You’ll be able to get in soon,” Bob said.
“How is he?” Dana asked, a little calmer.
“All I know is that he’s still alive.”
Sabre was glad Dana had stopped wailing. She felt bad for her and she knew she had been through a lot, but she couldn’t help but think the alcohol added to the drama. Sabre felt a little guilty for her thoughts; after all, she didn’t have any children so she didn’t really know how Dana felt. Perhaps she would have reacted the same way. Sabre thought about her initial reaction earlier in the evening when she’d found Marcus. She couldn’t even imagine how she would’ve reacted had it been her own child.
“Where is Riley?” Dana asked.
“He’s in the room with your mother,” Sabre said. “Frank’s in there, too.”
“Is he okay? Riley? Is he okay?”
“He’s pretty shaken up.”
“I need to go see him.” Dana stood up. “Where do I go?”
Bob stood. “Come on,” he said. He asked someone at the desk for directions to Celia’s room, and then led her to the door.
“I can go from here,” she said and walked off.
Bob, with an unlit cigarette between his fingers, returned to where Sabre sat.
“What the heck are you doing?” Sabre said.
“I’m not smoking it. I’m just holding it.”
“Not that. Why were you alone with Dana?”
“I’m not alone. You’re here.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand around the room. “And all these lovely people are here.”
“Don’t make light of it. Did you drive her here?” Before he could answer she asked, “Didn’t you tell me Leahy said not to be alone with her?”
“I called to tell her about Marcus and her mom. She doesn’t have a car, her friend wasn’t home, and she didn’t have money for a cab. What was I supposed to do?” Bob tapped the cigarette on the back of his hand.
“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve picked her up. Or you could’ve paid for the cab when she got here. Or called JP.”
“Sabre, her son may be dead. It was on my way. It just seemed like the decent thing to do.”
She shook her head. “You know she’s been drinking?”
“Yes. I noticed that, but I don’t know if she started drinking before or after I called her. And I didn’t know she was drinking until she was already in the car.”
“Would that have made a difference?”
“Probably not.” He put the cigarette in his mouth and let it hang there.
“I just don’t like this whole mess.” Sabre sighed. “And why are you playing with that cigarette? Go outside and smoke it if you need to.”
“I’m quitting. This is my last pack and I’m just making them last as long as I can. Do you know that cigarettes cost over five dollars a pack? And that’s in California. In Alaska and Hawaii they’re almost ten dollars a pack.”
“Are you planning a move I don’t know about?”
“No, but if I did I wouldn’t be able to smoke there. I can’t even afford them at five dollars a pack.”
“So, damaging nearly every organ of your body, increasing your risk of a heart attack or stroke, depleting your bones of calcium and Vitamin D, or dying an agonizing death from any number of types of cancer or some horribly painful pulmonary disease aren’t enough reasons to quit, but the cost is?”
“That pretty much sums it up.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re quitting for whatever reason.” She slumped down in her chair. “I’m tired of meeting at hospitals.”
“At least we’re at a different one this time.” Bob looked around. “This is a nice facility. The last time….”
“Please, don’t mention the last time. I remember it all too well.” Sabre shifted in her chair. “I wish I knew how Marcus was. Bob, you should’ve seen him. No, you shouldn’t have. It was awful. He just hung there, lifeless. I thought he was already dead at first, but I think Frank’s CPR was effective.” She hit her hand on the side of the chair. “He’s just a kid.”
“I don’t know what to say, but they’re still working on him, so he’s still alive and as long as he’s alive, there’s a chance.”
His words weren’t very reassuring, but at least he didn’t just say “He’s going to be fine.” She could count on Bob to not lie to her or even placate her. And it helped just having him there.
“I stopped for coffee on the way there.”
“Sabre, don’t even go there. Don’t beat yourself up for things over which you have no control.”
“But….”
“But nothing. If you hadn’t stopped you may have arrived there before it happened, and then he probably would’ve done it after you left and no one would’ve found him until morning. So, you may have saved his life.”
“I know. You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right, Sobs. I’m always right.” He smiled.
She smiled back, but it was forced.
They waited. They talked. Sabre paced and Bob played with his cigarette. Finally, Bob stood up and said, “Let’s go outside.”
“I better wait here in case someone comes out.”
“You could go in and find out what’s happening.”
“I’d just be in the way,” Sabre said. “Do you think Dana went looking for Marcus?”
“Wouldn’t you if he were your kid?”
“Yeah. I just hope she hasn’t had too much to drink to not know where to draw the line.”
“Who cares? If they throw her out, they throw her out.” He walked out the door with his cigarette in his mouth and his lighter in his hand.
Sabre wished she could share Bob’s attitude about his clients. She always felt disappointed when her adult clients didn’t follow court orders, partly because it made her work harder, but primarily because she didn’t want them to fail the children. Bob, on the other hand, had little faith in most of his clients. He expected them to mess up, and when they did, he just saw it as a new challenge.
Sabre wondered if anyone had reached the social worker, and just then Marla walked into the waiting room. Sabre wasn’t surprised to see her. In Sabre’s estimation, she was the best social worker in the business.
“Marla, how is he?” Sabre asked.
“Better. He’s in the intensive care unit now,” she said. “I’ll try to explain it the best I can. I don’t know all the medical terms.”
“Let me get Bob so you only have to say it once. Besides, he understands the medical jargon better than I do.”
Sabre returned with Bob, who said, “Hi, Marla.”
“Hi, Bob.” She looked from Sabre to Bob as she explained. “They had to do an endo tube something….”
“An endotracheal intubation. It’s used to ventilate the lungs and to prevent airway obstruction,” Bob said.
“That’s it. He must have gained consciousness on the way to the hospital because they had apparently inserted it at th
e house, but he pulled it out in the ambulance and they had to put it back in.”
Sabre remembered their carrying him out and she recalled he had something black sticking out of his mouth.
Marla continued. “There doesn’t appear to be any cervical spine or spinal cord injury, which according to the doctor often happens in these situations, especially if it’s a long fall. Fortunately for Marcus, it wasn’t. And the CT scan on his head appears normal. He does have what they’re calling aspiration pneumonia and I think that’s one of their biggest concerns right now.”
“So he’s going to be here a while,” Bob said.
“Yes, for a few days anyway, maybe longer. I guess there can be delayed airway and pulmonary complications they’ll watch for, and right now he’s still on the ventilator. He’s still unconscious.”
“And Celia?” Sabre asked.
“It appears it was just anxiety. Her EKG came back normal, so she didn’t have a heart attack at least. She also has some pains in her stomach. They’re keeping her overnight for observation.”
“How’s Riley doing?” Sabre asked.
“As well as can be expected. He doesn’t show much and acts pretty tough, but he has to be hurting inside. He’s been Marcus’ protector for a while now.”
“He blamed himself for not being with Marcus when it happened. He said they were playing games and it sounds like they had a little disagreement. Riley called him a name and left. That poor kid.”
“I’ll get him some professional help tomorrow. I’m going back to the hospital room. Do either of you want to come with me?”
“No,” they both said.
“I’m just going to go home,” Sabre said.
Marla turned to Bob. “Thanks for bringing Dana here. I’ll see to it she gets home if you want to leave.”
“That would be great,” Bob said.
Marla left and Bob put his arm around Sabre’s shoulder as they walked outside. “Are you going to be okay, Sobs?”
She put her arm around his waist. “Sure.” They walked together to the car.
Chapter 20
Sabre opened the door and entered a little yellow house. She yelled, “Dinner time.” Dark shadows filled the walls. She felt sick to her stomach and very afraid, but she walked further inside. She gasped and tried to scream but nothing came out of her mouth. Two dead bodies hung from the rafters. She couldn’t see their faces but it looked like a man and a young boy. Then more hanging bodies appeared. She turned to run but she was so tall, about eight feet, and every time she turned dangling body parts hit her head. More bodies emerged until there were dozens of them with no facial features; all were a sickening shade of blue. She tried to reach the door to escape but she was caught in the maze. Then all of a sudden she was very small, just a child looking up at a blue sea of bodies with no features, just blue faces.
A man appeared in the doorway. He didn’t look like the others. He was bright and glowing, like an angel. She moved toward him, but her steps were so small she couldn’t get there quickly and the bodies started dropping. She reached deep down to muster up a scream. This time she heard the sound, “Daddy! Daddy!”
Sabre bolted upright in her bed. She felt sick inside and afraid. Trembling, she lay back down and tried to relax as she told herself it was only a dream, but she couldn’t forget the images from her dream…or the image of Marcus. She tossed and turned for several minutes before she gave up and stepped out of bed.
After turning on the light on her night table, she picked up her iPhone and pushed the button to see the time. It was only 2:23. Sticking her phone in her pajama pocket, she walked downstairs to her kitchen and took a mug out of her cupboard. She cut a lemon in half, squeezed it into the mug, set it on her Keurig coffee maker, and drew a cup of hot water. Carrying the lemon water, she went into the living room and sat down on the sofa.
It was only a dream, she thought, a dream triggered by the day’s events. But it had been frighteningly realistic and left her very uncomfortable. She wondered if Marcus was still alive. She thought she would’ve heard if something happened, but she knew better. No one would’ve called in the middle of the night. They’d just wait until morning. She took out her phone and called the hospital. A night nurse reported there had been no significant changes. Marcus was still on the ventilator and they were treating the pneumonia with intravenous antibiotics.
Sabre turned her television on and flipped the channels until she found an old black and white movie with Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant. She lay her head down on the sofa pillow, pulled the sage green blanket from the back of the sofa over herself, and joined Katherine and Cary in a simpler time.
She watched for nearly an hour before she drifted off to sleep. She didn’t remember seeing the last few scenes of the movie, but she knew how it ended anyway. Boy gets girl and they lived happily ever after.
***
Marcus lay in his bed in the critical care unit at Scripps Hospital, the ventilator still attached. His face was slightly mottled and marks from the rope around his neck made last night’s events a tragic reality. Sabre was sitting by Marcus’ bedside and holding his hand when Bob entered.
“Your client just left,” Sabre said.
“Yeah, I passed her in the hallway. Is she going home?”
“Yes. The doctor encouraged her to get some sleep, but I think she’s just going home to freshen up. Celia was released and Frank took her home. Frank offered his house to Dana, but she’s so….” She stopped as she realized Marcus may be able to hear. “Let’s go into the waiting room. There’s free coffee there.”
With a Styrofoam cup of coffee in her hand, Sabre said, “Dana’s so angry at her mother.”
“I know. I thought her attitude might change, given her mother’s stay in the hospital, but it hasn’t.” Bob opened the door from the ICU and held it for Sabre.
“Does she blame her mother for George’s death?” Sabre asked.
“I don’t know. She hasn’t said that exactly.”
“Well, I know she blames her for not liking him when he was alive,” Sabre said. “She has made that abundantly clear.”
“What was there to like about him? The guy was a scumbag.”
At first Sabre didn’t respond, although she felt the same way about him. She just didn’t say the words out loud. Although the man was dead, she could find very few redeeming qualities about George Foreman.
Bob continued his rant as they entered an empty waiting room. “He was a lousy husband, a lousy father, and no one liked him. He was a drug-dealing thief and doper who cared far more about himself than his family…basically a useless human being who left damage in his wake.”
“Damage in his wake? Well, aren’t you poetic this afternoon.”
“I’m just saying. I didn’t like the guy alive. I’m not going to like him any better now that he’s dead. I never understand why people do that, why they feel the need to canonize dead people.”
Sabre poured more decaf coffee into her cup. Bob filled his from the other coffee pot. They sat down on cushy chairs, far more comfortable than those in most waiting rooms.
“I suppose it’s because they can’t defend themselves,” Sabre said. “But I know you’re right. The man wouldn’t qualify for any humanity awards.”
“How’s Marcus?” Bob asked.
“He’s still in critical condition, but he’s doing better, I think. I spoke with the doctor this morning and she was cautious but encouraging in her prognosis. The tests aren’t showing a lot of damage but she said she can’t be sure how much, if any, long-term impairment there will be until he is fully conscious. She said, ‘if any.’ That means he could be okay, right?”
“The tests are a real good indicator,” Bob reassured her.
“The doctor seemed pretty concerned about the pneumonia, and when she checked his eyes, they were dark red.”
“Subconjunctive hemorrhaging. It’s like bruising of the eyeball. It looks different because you’re not seeing the b
ruising through skin, but it’s the same principle.”
Sabre looked at Bob, her eyebrows furrowed, a look of amazement and confusion. “I’m always amazed at how much you know about the medical field.”
“My father was a doctor.”
“He was an urologist,” Sabre said mockingly. “What did he know about the eyes?”
“It’s amazing how one thing is connected to another, and he spoke ‘doctor-speak’ all the time. It’s like another language, you know. You just learn it.”
“That’s kind of cool, having a father for a doctor.”
“It was no picnic. He was a much better doctor than he was a father. It was all about his work,” Bob said. He didn’t sound bitter, just straightforward. “Speaking of work, the mother didn’t show on your case this morning, so her attorney submitted on the recs.”
“I’m not surprised. I heard the mom had dropped out of rehab so I didn’t really expect her to show.” Sabre shook her head. “Another baby with a druggie mother who cares more about her habit than her child. That’s really getting old. Oh, thanks for covering that for me, by the way.” Sabre yawned.
“Are you okay?” Bob asked. “You look awfully tired.”
“Yeah, I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“Less than usual?”
“I kept dreaming of dead people.”
Bob smiled. “I love those dreams.”
“You’re sick.”
“These were people hanging from rafters. I felt so creepy when I woke up. It was so vivid and it seemed so…real.”
Bob changed his tone. “I’m sorry, Sobs. I know finding Marcus was awful for you.” He put is hand on her shoulder. “Do you have a trial this afternoon?”
“No. My calendar is clear. I just need to do some prep for tomorrow and make some phone calls.”
“You really should go home and get some rest.”
“I’m going to check on Marcus and then go back to the office for a bit. I’ll leave early.”
Bob stood up. “I need to go meet JP. He called on the way over and wanted to see me. I wanted to check on you first, but I better get going.”
[The Advocate 04.0] The Advocate's Dilemma Page 10