Unable to deny the facts any longer, a terrible pain grew inside me, much like a knife plunging into my heart with each beat. Desperate to end this misery, I slid my hands aside to allow another peek at the screen; forcing the truth into my mind. Sam was nothing more than an imaginary friend.
I willingly shut my eyelids to see him in my mind’s eye and love him one final time. It was time to say good-bye. How I adored his twinkling eyes, his incredible smile, us swimming together. The vision progressed to the two of us walking in the field…talking. That was the part I’d miss the most.
A thin stream of tears spilled upon the desk; my thoughts vacillated between anger and denial. Sleep called commandingly, yet I struggled to keep myself awake. I pinched the tender undersides of my arms. Hard. I pictured him sitting on our couch in his jeans and vivid white shirt. I smiled because he always wore jeans and a white cotton shirt.
I wondered what he would have told me this afternoon had the phones not rung, and had he been real.
Sam spoke of surviving. Would the great psychoanalyst, Dr. Sigmund Freud, simply interpret this as an elaborate way to remind myself that I am a survivor? Is that why I couldn’t hear his footsteps on the wooden floor? Does this explain why the water remained calm when he swam? Because he wasn’t real?
The words on the screen and the questions in my head continued to blur. Why did I create such a tragic life for him? Opening night, 1910. Does strength come from tragedy? Moored, 1937. Not the sole survivor, 1936.
Suddenly, clarity pierced through in the fog. The fire. The dates. Of course, it does make sense. I know what Sam had to say.
I had to tell! I had to call home. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The medicine was too strong. I struggled to keep my head off the desk. I had to tell…
…Sam…
…the lightning…
….I understood. Sam… didn’t… survive.
Chapter Twenty-nine
WAITING
WAY TOO MANY HOURS HAD PASSED since the last lightening strike. Far more regrets were yet to come. It became obvious to Sam that Emily was not coming home anytime soon.
His heart ached as he tried to imagine what it must have been like for her. He further rebuked himself as he openly called himself a coward: out of fear to protect Emily, he had set her up. He had lost his chance to confess his existence to her. He wasn’t even sure if she would ever want to see him again. Worry began to mix in with fear and guilt.
The nightmarish flashbacks continued to pound his thoughts. A thick line of self-criticizing obscenities concluded each re-run: by the time he had pulled his molecules together, the woman’s voice had already called out a second time—the same voice he had heard on the answering machine. Her mother, no doubt, home to take her to the appointment.
If she was at the hospital, it was far too risky to wander the halls looking for her. Death always lingered there.
The deeper Sam thought, the worse the scenario became. The sun had been gone for over an hour when her parents finally arrived home—alone. Panic swarmed him like a thousand angry bees.
He knew that eventually, Emily would come home. He’d just have to wait it out. Only there was one problem: he couldn’t wait at the house any longer. He had to leave.
Chapter Thirty
DR. KENDALL
“HOW IS THE PATIENT RESPONDING to the medication?”
It was early morning. Far earlier than any doctor’s rounds normally occurred. However, this was not a typical morning, nor a typical patient. Dr. Kendall was excited! He had been waiting for a patient like this since he first entered medical school. Richard Kendall thrived on mental illness.
Still disappointed he had not been accepted as Director at the Larned State Correctional Facility for the Mentally Ill, his ultimate goal was to someday work with the most disturbed people in the U.S. Until that time, he would be forced to continue his practice here at the hospital, where he was already bored with lonely and overworked wives who drank too much wine as a means of solace.
But not this patient. She was great! Active and vivid hallucinations… just the thought of it made him smile. Maybe she’d go ballistic again. It was awesome…to the point of wickedness.
“Take a look for yourself. She’s drooling,” a nurse uttered to the doctor’s question.
Crinkling his nose at the RN, Dr. Kendall bent down and spoke too loudly in the patient’s ear. “Emily, can you hear me?”
Emily’s eyes fluttered at the sound of the voice. Her head jerked sporadically as she tried to lift it off the pillow. She licked her lips like she was preparing to speak, only to release a small sigh no louder than a whisper.
“How are you feeling today?” the doctor asked.
Again, Emily tried to lift her head off the pillow. It bobbed for a moment before falling back upon the pillow.
“Don’t try to move, honey,” the nurse said, patting Emily on the shoulder. “Just talk, if you can.”
“Sam—” Emily’s voice cracked. She licked her dry lips again. Peering through squinted eyes, Emily opened her mouth a second time. “Sam is real.” That being said, her head flopped to the side.
“Still delusional.” Kendall smiled broadly. “Let’s continue with drug therapy, although I’d like to increase the dose to one hundred milligrams.”
Hearing something like a gasp, Dr. Kendall eyed the nurse. “Did you say something?”
She cleared her throat. “No, sir, just a tickle.” Just as she picked up a pillow to fluff it, the room’s telephone rang.
“Hello?” she answered. ”No, this is her nurse…Good morning, Mrs. Stokes. Yes, Emily is here, but the medication she is taking has made her quite drowsy…seventy-five milligrams of Seroquel…Oh no, it wasn’t Dr. Lui. It was Dr. Kendall. He’s in charge. Would you like to speak with him?”
The line went silent in the nurse’s hand. “That was Mrs. Stokes,” the nurse said, putting the phone back in its cradle.
“I gathered that,” Kendall huffed.
“She sounded pretty upset.”
“Parents usually have a hard time accepting psychiatric diagnoses. She’ll come around.”
“It’s really sad, isn’t it?” the nurse said.
“What is?”
“She might be pretty if her hair were combed—and wasn’t drooling.” The nurse paused for a breath. “She’s so young. Schizophrenia is such a cruel twist of fate for any person. She’s got her whole life in front of her! It might very well be spent on medication and frequent trips into the hospital.”
Dr. Kendall crossed his arms. “Do you have a name?” he asked the nurse.
“Nancy. Nancy Roberts.”
“Life is what you make it, Nancy Roberts. You see sadness. I choose to see opportunity. Research opportunity. She could make me famous.” Kendall reached in his breast pocket and pulled out a pen. His smile grew wider as he turned for the hall; his thumb clicking the end of his ballpoint. “I’ll update the patient’s chart.”
It took about an hour for John and Elizabeth to arrive at the hospital. Sitting in the parking lot, Elizabeth turned to John and finally spoke, “I don’t think I can go in there.”
“Why?” asked John. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I can go into the hospital.” Elizabeth paused as she searched for words. “Something is wrong. There’s no reason why Emily shouldn’t be able to answer the phone for herself. I’m going to walk in there, freak out, and get arrested.” Tears began to well in her dark eyes. The tissue she had concealed in her hand now lay tattered in her lap.
John grabbed his wife’s hands and pulled them to his lips. “Mrs. Stokes, you are the bravest, smartest woman I know.” He kissed her hands again. “I have seen you on the witness stand, and that Kendall character is no match for you.”
Elizabeth smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you.” Pulling her hand free, she retrieved the tissue in her lap and held up a piece of the shredded fiber. A sorrowful giggle escaped from under her breath as s
he wiped the tears away with her own fingers. “I love you.”
The two sat quietly for a moment.
“I am, because of you,” she said with gratitude.
John smiled through closed lips. “We are, because we are.” He paused a little longer, then gave his wife’s hand a final squeeze. “Ready?”
Emily’s parents made their way through the hospital and took the elevator up to her floor. Elizabeth made a point to stop at the nurse’s station.
“Oh, good. You’re here just in time,” the charge nurse stated, peering over a stack of papers. “I need you to sign the consent form.”
“Just in time for what?” John fired out as a bad feeling crept over him.
“They are preparing to transfer your daughter over to Parkview.”
“Parkview!” Elizabeth took a step back to catch herself from falling. An intense wave of nausea pulled the blood from her face.
John looked at Elizabeth, then at the nurse. “Where and what exactly is Parkview?”
“It’s the psychiatric hospital, sir.” The nurse seemed more than a little apprehensive as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry, I thought you had been informed of this decision.”
The hairs on the back of John’s neck began to rise.
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “No, we were not informed. Who made this decision? Dr. Kendall, I presume?”
“Let me check the orders.” The nurse grabbed the top chart off another stacked pile.
Not waiting for the nurse to find an answer, Elizabeth stormed off toward Emily’s room. Anticipating her daughter’s condition, Elizabeth stopped cold as an unsightly mess confronted her eyes. Her mouth dropped open as she stood frozen in the doorway. She glanced at John, only to confirm he was seeing the same thing as her. As reality set in, they both rushed to the bedside. Heaped and bent, Emily lay motionless. Her long hair was tangled and stuck to her head; she was breathing though her mouth, taking rapid and shallow breaths.
“Oh dear God!” Elizabeth reached out her shaking hand and combed through a few of the snarled stands of her daughter’s hair. “What have they done to you?”
“Let me assure you, Mrs. Stokes,” a man’s voiced boomed out from behind the couple. They each whirled around to stand face to face with the enemy. “We are providing the very best medical treatment money can buy.”
“Kendall, are you responsible for this?” John pointed to his unresponsive daughter.
“Don’t worry yourself. It’s just a mild side effect from the medication.”
“You call this mild?” John’s tone was sharp and accusing, his eyes were wide with horror.
“It takes time for the patient’s body to become acclimated to the drug dosage.”
“Where is Dr. Lui?” Elizabeth asked with undertones of suspicion.
“Her specialty is in Pediatrics, mine is in Psychiatry. Therefore, your daughter is under my care.”
“So when are you going to start caring for her?” John snapped.
“What about her blood work? I would like to see her lab results,” Elizabeth demanded.
Dr. Kendall puffed up his thin chest like a rooster ready for battle in an illegal cockfight. “Of course you would, and you may see them. However, just as the truth was revealed yesterday, the truth still stands today! You said it yourself, lady. The farm doesn’t exist. Nor do any little amoebas swimming around in her blood.” Leaning forward, Dr. Kendall narrowed his weasel eyes as he intruded into her personal space. “Welcome to schizophrenia, Madame!”
John clenched his fists. The skin over his knuckles turned white. His arms began to shake as he let out a low growl that continued to grow in intensity.
Elizabeth looked on as her husband launched toward the doctor. Powerless to stop what might come, her eyes grew wide as she expected her husband to rip the doctor limb from limb. It all happened so rapidly, yet it seemed to occur in slow motion. Kendall backed against the wall and stiffened as if to prepare himself for the assault. The doctor’s hands flew up to shield his face as John closed in on him. Just before their bodies were about to collide, John took a swift sidestep and simply brushed the doctor’s shoulder with his own as he passed by on his way out the door.
The doctor’s eyes opened. “Well, then.” Kendall cleared his throat. “I see you are the rational one in the family.”
“I wouldn’t make any assumptions if I were you, Dr. Kendall. You’re still standing.”
The doctor turned his nose up in the air. “Point taken.” Taking in a large breath, he held up his boney finger. “Let’s get back to the issue at hand.”
“Excellent suggestion,” Elizabeth barked. “Why is our daughter being transferred—”
“Simple. Parkview specializes in serious mental illnesses.”
“Only you haven’t demonstrated she has one.”
“How so?”
“You have failed to conduct any psychological testing, whatsoever.”
Kendall tugged at his collar, unbuttoning it.
Elizabeth sensed she had struck a nerve.
“There simply was no time.”
“Liar!” Elizabeth yelled.
“Oh good woman, you must believe me,” Kendall offered. “I worry for her safety, just like you. I have an oath to protect all my patients.”
“At this point, you’d better worry about protecting something else,” Elizabeth warned.
“Like his career?” John called from the hall.
Elizabeth muffled a laugh while the doctor let out a small huff.
“I see we have started the day off on the wrong foot.” The doctor back peddled. “I will cancel the transfer orders and Emily will remain here for further observation. Admittedly, I was disappointed to see her go.” He put his hands behind his back and stood up tall. Hearing no objections, he continued, “You may not like my vigorous treatment for your daughter, but I have witnesses that can testify on my behalf.”
“Witnesses? What kind of witnesses?” John walked slowly back into the room.
“The nurse, last night. After giving your daughter her medication, she documented Emily speaking hallucinatory gibberish. Then again this morning, a second nurse heard Emily distinctively repeat the name ‘Sam,’ and ‘He’s real.’”
John thought he caught Kendall about to roll his eyes.
“I’m sure it must be difficult for you.” Kendall looked at Elizabeth, then to John. “But any patient suff—experiencing hallucinations is serious, and requires serious treatment. We will begin psychological testing as soon as possible. In fact, an interview with the two of you would be a wonderful place to start. You can provide us with any other concerns you may have, or if you have noticed any other unusual behavior.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed. “That would be a good place to start.”
Kendall’s expression changed to mild pleasure. “Refresh my memory. Is there any history of mental illness on either side of the family?”
Elizabeth and John looked at each other.
“No,” John answered.
Kendall’s head bobbed, as if making a mental note to himself. “All right then, if neither of you have any further questions, I’ll begin the orders.” Without waiting for a reply, Kendall took out his ballpoint pen and began clicking the top as he proceeded to the nurse’s station to complete the necessary paperwork.
John opened his mouth to speak.
“Don’t even waste your breath,” Elizabeth whispered.
“I think it would make me feel better,” John whined.
With a heavy exhale, his wife smiled. “Vent if you must, but I don’t want to hear any cuss words.”
“That vile sack of horse apples doesn’t know his head from his tail feathers.”
“Feel better?”
“No. Well, maybe a little.”
Elizabeth grinned as she collapsed in a chair.
“Let’s start the day over with a cup of coffee,” John suggested.
“Perfect! I’ll go to the cafeteria,” she a
greed. “But first, I need a hug.”
Elizabeth found a comb in her purse and began the tedious work of unsnarling Emily’s hair. As she worked, she sang silly songs, like the ones they would sing together when Em still wanted to be pushed on the swing set.
John flipped on the television and found a golf game. Regrettably, the action was not near thrilling enough to divert his fearful thoughts about his daughter. He doubted even front row, center court seats at a KU game would be thrilling enough. For the first time in his life, at least that he could remember, John was afraid. He was afraid for his smart, beautiful daughter.
What if? What if she never gets better? What if she gets worse?
John picked at an old scab on his knuckles where he had cut himself while building a bird house. Then he looked at his daughter. His baby. It seemed like only yesterday she was still too small to ride a bike. John fought hard to stop the sting in his eyes and throat. Refocusing on his knuckles, he noticed the wound was bleeding again. He went to the nearby sink and washed away the blood. His thoughts drifted to Kat and how much he loved her, too.
Grabbing a paper towel, he wrapped it around his knuckles and then returned to Emily’s side. As the man of the house, it was his job to protect his family. But how does a man battle this? Letting out a sigh of discouragement, he wished he could trade places with his daughter.
A knock came from the outside of the hospital room. “May I come in?”
Elizabeth rushed over to greet Dr. Lui. “Tell, me, Yia, what is going on?”
“Oh, please forgive me. Once again I feel the need to apologize for that insensitive—man. He has absolutely no bedside manner.”
“Never mind him.” Elizabeth waved her hand in the air. “Tell me about Emily.” The two ladies sat down in faux leather chairs arranged in front of the room window. “Kendall said he had witnesses.”
“Let me start with the lab results. The blood work all came back negative. Liver and kidney functions are in normal range. General blood counts look good and there is no evidence of parasites or other infections. Emily is healthy. But—” Dr, Lui momentarily broke eye contact. “The lack of physical causes implies the hallucinations are all formed up here.” Dr. Lui pointed to her head. “We can do an MRI scan of her brain, but I truly believe that the results will be negative as well. Emily’s hallucinations are very detailed and that simply is not indicative of head trauma.”
A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series) Page 17