When I still didn’t answer, the doctor picked up my wrist to check my pulse, and switched back to English. “How are you feeling, Miss Markham? Your color is so much better today. You’re looking well.”
She stood in a way that blocked Halli’s mother from seeing my face. The doctor raised her eyebrows at me, but I still didn’t understand what she was trying to signal.
“I have to examine her now, Dr. Markham,” she told Halli’s mother. “If you would wait outside.”
Her voice was deep, kind of throaty, and I still couldn’t place the accent. But I liked the way she spoke with authority. Halli’s mother wasn’t going to be able to push her around.
“I want a full report,” Halli’s mother told her.
“Of course. But I need to speak with my patient now, so you have to go.”
Halli’s mother frowned, but she did as she was told. She slipped her tablet into her briefcase and shouldered a fancy purse that I’m sure cost a fortune. Dr. Rios stood placidly waiting for her to leave the room.
Then she turned back to me and smiled.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Rios said. “I thought I read somewhere that you spoke Turkish.”
“Oh...um, I kind of...I mean, you know, it’s been a while.” I was sure Halli did speak Turkish—along with all her other languages. But I certainly wasn’t equipped to fake that.
“What did you say to me?” I asked her.
“I wondered if you wanted me to ask your mother to leave,” Dr. Rios said. “I hope you don’t mind that I took the initiative and told myself yes on your behalf.”
“No, I don’t mind,” I said with a smile. “Thank you.”
Dr. Rios went over and closed the door to my room, then drew the curtains across the windows so no one could see inside from the hall. Then she returned and sat on the edge of my bed. She looked at me with an expression that was both friendly and direct.
“Now, Miss Markham,” she said. “Are you ready to tell me the truth?”
34
“What...truth?” I asked. I could smell a stale kind of perspiration start leaking out of my pores.
“I’ve found when a case is truly frustrating,” Dr. Rios said, “sometimes it’s best to start with the patient. So tell me, Halli, what do you think happened? Why are you here?”
“Um...because I had a headache?”
“Let’s define our terms, shall we?” she said. “On a scale from one to ten, with ten being the worst pain you’ve ever experienced in your life, how severe would you say that headache was?”
“Um...a ten? No, maybe an eight.” Ten was the true answer—in fact, on a scale from 1 to 10, I would have called it a 50—but since my goal was to get her to stop drugging me and let me out of there, I figured I’d better downplay it.
“Worse than the pain of a broken bone?” Dr. Rios asked.
“Um...no.”
“Worse than the time you nearly lost your toes to frostbite?”
Wow, that sounded interesting. I would have loved to know the story behind that.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Worse than a snakebite?”
I didn’t know whether she was making this stuff up, or actually reciting from some list of injuries Halli really had.
Then I realized Halli’s medical records were probably accessible to any doctor who wanted to look at them. They were probably encoded into that microchip hidden beneath her collarbone.
So I needed to give Dr. Rios some explanation for what had happened. Something that might have actually occurred, but not necessarily shown up in any of Halli’s medical records.
“I get really bad headaches sometimes,” I improvised. “I used to get them when my grandmother and I went mountain climbing. I think it was the altitude.” Then I thought of a better, more general reason. “And sometimes I get them because of stress. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
“Hmm.” Dr. Rios didn’t seem convinced. “Let’s look together, shall we?”
She pulled out a small, wallet-sized tablet from one of the pockets in her white coat. She swept her finger across the screen, then poked it a few times. When the lights started swirling above it, she set it down flat on my bed.
The lights quickly formed themselves into an image. A 3-D image of a brain.
“We surveyed it when you first came in,” Dr. Rios said. “I’ve looked at it from all angles. I can’t find a single thing wrong with it.”
I couldn’t have been happier to hear that. The way Halli’s head hurt sometimes, I wondered if maybe I’d broken something in there.
But I had to play it cool. Like there was never any question in my mind.
“That’s because I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just a temporary thing that hardly ever happens anymore.”
“Yes, but why at all?” Dr. Rios asked. “A headache of the type you experienced—something so severe you were rendered unconscious—should leave some physical marker within the brain. If you bruised your skin, for example, I would find subtle indications of it: a pooling of blood, a warmer temperature at the site. We took images of your brain immediately when you arrived. There should still have been some remnant of whatever caused the effects you were feeling.”
I didn’t know what to tell her. In part because I didn’t understand the headache myself.
“I feel perfectly fine right now,” I said, “except I can’t stay awake. Am I on some kind of drug?”
“We are giving you medications, yes.”
“Well, I really wish you’d stop,” I said. “I need a clear head. I don’t like feeling fuzzy like this.”
“I can understand that,” Dr. Rios said, “but we don’t want to wean you from them too quickly, in case the pain returns in full. Perhaps another day or two.”
“That long?” I said. “Please. I don’t need them. I’m fine—really.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Dr. Rios said, “but you have to understand. You’re my patient, and I dislike it when my patients suddenly scream out in pain. Call it a personal issue of mine,” she added with a smile. “Selfish, I know.”
Then she became more serious. “I have to tell you the truth, Halli. You’ve been a very difficult patient for me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—”
“No, no,” she waved away any apology. “What I mean is I enjoy puzzles, but this one has been much more difficult than I am accustomed to.” She smiled. “I like to know everything, you see. Top student. Best in class. So when I can’t find an answer...”
All I could say again was, “I’m sorry.”
“Despite that,” she said, “I am thrilled to have the chance to meet you, even under these circumstances. I’ve followed your career since the beginning. I have a younger sister who adores you and wishes she were you.”
I could relate. I felt the same way when I first started learning about all of Halli’s adventures.
Now that I was Halli, of course, I felt a lot different about it. I hadn’t realized before that with any adventure comes risk, and so far all of my risks had led me exactly where I was. I doubted Dr. Rios’s sister would have admired the weakened Halli Markham currently lying helpless in a hospital bed.
“So when can I leave?” I asked.
“Not for several days. Perhaps not until next week.”
“Next week?” Impossible. Horrible. I needed to get out of there. “Why?”
“Halli, I don’t think you understand how much pain you were in. You blacked out several times. Your screams could be heard down the corridor.”
Ooh, that didn’t sound good. And it especially wasn’t good that I couldn’t remember that. Maybe something really was wrong with me.
But no—I knew there wasn’t. The only thing that was wrong was the interruption in my session visiting my real body. If I could have come out of that experience gently, at my own pace, I’m sure everything would have been fine.
If I couldn’t convince her to let me go now, maybe I could at least persuade her
to do something else.
“I have a friend,” I said. “His name is Daniel Everett. Have you seen him here?”
“Yes,” Dr. Rios said. “A nice young man. He was very attentive to you the first few days. It was only after your mother told us to exclude him that he stopped coming.”
“I need to see him,” I said. “Very badly. Is there any way you can help me with that?”
“You’re under eighteen,” Dr. Rios said. “I have to abide by your mother’s wishes unless it’s a matter concerning your medical care.” She paused and raised her eyebrows. “Is this a matter concerning your medical care?”
“Yes,” I said, taking the hint. “Absolutely. Daniel was there with me when it happened. He was...helping me meditate. He knows these relaxation exercises—mental exercises—and when I felt one of my headaches coming on, I asked him to help me. We were doing really well, but then some people interrupted us, and...you know the rest. But if I could see him again, I think we could get rid of any pain once and for all. I’m pretty sure. We could just try.”
I was saying too much. I needed to stop talking. But I was nervous. And Dr. Rios didn’t look convinced.
I thought of something else.
“Meditation is very important to me,” I added. “My grandmother taught me to do it when I was little. We used to meditate all the time.” That much was true—Halli had told me so herself. “But I can’t do it when my mind is all muddled. The best thing for me would be to get all the drugs out of my system, then let Daniel come here to talk me through a meditation.”
Dr. Rios shook her head. “I respect the power of the mind,” she said, “but I have more respect for the power of medicine. I can’t eliminate your medications—not yet. And I’ll have to think about whether to allow Mr. Everett to visit. There are strict guidelines about when we can overrule the wishes of a parent.”
“But she doesn’t understand,” I said. “My mother hardly knows me. The only time she’s seen me in person since I was a baby was last weekend. She doesn’t know anything about me.”
All true. And, I hoped, persuasive.
“Well, the fact is,” Dr. Rios said, “you, not your mother, are my patient. I must do what is in your best interests. So let me think about what you’ve said.”
She shut off her tablet and the hologram of Halli’s brain disappeared.
“I’ll speak to you about this later,” Dr. Rios said. “Right now, you should get some rest.”
I groaned. “All I do is rest. And sleep.”
“As you should,” Dr. Rios said. “It promotes healing. You’re far better off now than when you first arrived.”
That was because the effects wore off, I wanted to tell her. I felt fine after the first time I got ripped out of my body, too. All it took was time.
Dr. Rios headed toward the door, but before she opened it she asked, “Would you like me to tell your mother that you’re sleeping?”
“Yes, please. Thank you for that.”
She smiled. “I have a mother, too. With a similar personality. You and I should compare stories one day.”
“Why,” I said, “did your mother abandon you in India when you were an infant, too?”
“No, Turkey,” Dr. Rios said. “With my father. My mother is a surgeon in Spain. And yet despite that, I still became a doctor. Though not a surgeon—I still have my rebellion.”
Dr. Rios and I smiled at each other. She really did understand Halli’s situation.
“I’ll consider your request,” she said. “Now I have other patients I must see.”
“Thank you, Dr. Rios.”
“My pleasure, Miss Markham.”
She softly closed the door behind her. Against my will, I could feel the drugs pulling me back into sleep. I tried to fight them, but as usual it was no use.
My eyes were fluttering closed when I saw the door to my room open again. I thought maybe it was one of the nurses, or worse yet, Halli’s mother.
I wish. It was Jake.
35
He shut the door behind him, then rushed to the bed.
“You’re awake.”
“Not for long,” I answered truthfully.
“This is the most awake I’ve seen you since they brought you here.”
His smile would have melted the heart of any conscious girl in any universe. “Oh, Halli, I’m so glad you’re all right.”
He leaned forward and gently gathered me into his arms. And then, even though my tongue felt flaky and my lips were as dry as dust, he seemed to have no qualms trying to kiss me. I turned away. And not just because my mouth felt so disgusting.
“I saw you hit Daniel,” I said. “Why did you do that?”
Jake looked at me with disbelief. “That’s what you have to say to me? After all this time? Halli, I’ve been waiting at your bedside day and night. I thought you might die. Don’t you understand what that did to me? I love you. You know that. I can’t even think about losing you.”
The way he looked at me...
But I couldn’t let that sway me. He had made a mess of everything. If only he had done what I asked and left me alone for a few days. Trusted me with Daniel —
— okay, even though it’s true my feelings for Daniel seemed to intensify by the hour the more time we spent together —
— and you could also argue that Jake might be rightfully confused about where things stood between us, since at one point I did tell him I loved him back, but that was before all of this happened, and now it wasn’t true anymore. Maybe it never was. Maybe my judgment was always so clouded when we were together because he was the parallel version of Will in this world, and he was always kissing me, and looking at me that way, and telling me he loved me...
“Where’s Red?” I asked, trying for a more neutral topic. I felt so sleepy, but thought I might still have a minute or two left in me. That poor dog had been on my mind. I wanted to at least find out if he was all right.
“He’s with them,” Jake said. He seemed to have trouble saying the name. “Daniel and his family. I couldn’t watch the dog and be here with you, too—”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “Thank you. I just wanted to know.”
I couldn’t stand the look on his face. He seemed so disappointed. Clearly this wasn’t what he expected from our reunion. And I guess I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t doubt that he’d been at my bedside all those days and nights. He was certainly there every time I briefly regained consciousness. Maybe I was being too hard on him.
“Thank you,” I said. “For being here all the time. That was really nice.”
“Nice?” he said. His eyes softened and the edges of his mouth turned up into that smile I could never seem to resist. “Halli, I would give my life for you. I don’t think you understand what it’s been like, seeing you in pain, hearing you scream—”
“Yeah, okay,” I said. I really didn’t want to hear about the screaming again. It made me very uneasy. And somehow made my head throb with the memory.
I needed to change the subject. I said the first thing that came to mind. “I heard my parents fired you.”
“Briefly. It didn’t matter. Nothing matters right now but you.” He picked up my hand. Halli’s hand. I liked the way he held it. Then he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. Come on.
I was losing focus. Fast. And I still needed something from him.
“Could you do you do me a favor?” I asked. “Please?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Do you think they’ll let me see Red? I miss him so much.”
“Of course they’ll let you see him,” Jake said, as if the answer should be obvious to me. Maybe everyone in that universe took for granted that dogs got to fly next to their owners on commercial airplanes—Halli told me they even had their own seats—and also sit with them in their sickrooms until their owners healed.
And now for the trickier part of the request.
“Then can you ask Daniel to bring him? Just for a while?” I asked i
t as innocently as I could.
But Jake wasn’t falling for it. “I can get you the dog myself. I’ll send a car for him right now. The driver can bring him straight here.”
“But Red doesn’t do well with strangers,” I tried. “It would be better if Daniel just could bring him—”
“He can’t,” Jake said. “Your parents don’t want him here.”
Because of you! I almost said, but I stopped myself. It seemed smarter to keep him on my side. Maybe if I acted like I didn’t care whether or not I saw Daniel, Jake would eventually relax and tell Halli’s parents it was okay for him to visit.
A big maybe.
It was more likely I’d have to get out of the hospital first before I ever saw Daniel again.
But all of it was too exhausting to think about. That dull headache I’d felt earlier was gone now, but in its place was the heavy lethargy I’d come to associate with an extra dosage of drugs. It was as if the drugs themselves sensed even the slightest hint of pain, and then immediately pumped themselves into the bloodstream. For all I knew, that was one of the medical advances they’d come up with in Halli’s world.
“Okay then,” I said sleepily. “Just Red.”
Jake leaned over and kissed me. “He’ll be here when you wake up. So will I.”
Maybe he wasn’t so bad, I thought as I drifted away. Although Daniel was better, wasn’t he? I knew I had reasons for being mad at Jake and wishing Daniel was there instead. Lots of reasons—good ones.
I just couldn’t remember what they were.
36
Halli awoke on Thursday morning with a renewed sense of mission.
She’d gone to bed unhappy. First, because of the conversation she had with Professor Whitfield and Albert where they pointed out to her that she couldn’t just run off and do whatever she wanted in Colorado. Not if she wanted the college’s money. If she was going to live there on my scholarship, she would have to be a physics student, just like me. Which was the last thing Halli wanted to do.
And second, because my mother had her own point of view about the radical choices I was making lately—quitting my job, treating everyone so insensitively, acting like staying there and going to school and spending time with my mom during my senior year was suddenly so awful, and why was I acting this way, was something wrong, please, why didn’t I just tell her, we could work it out together, we’ve always been a team, what’s going on with you, Audie? Et cetera, et cetera. Accompanied by more tears, which left Halli with a pounding headache and a panicky feeling that she just had to get away as soon as possible, no matter what.
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