A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series)

by J. P. Galuska

  Elizabeth lowered her head and wept. Dr. Lui reached out her hand and placed it on Elizabeth’s knee. John walked around from the other side of the room and knelt down beside his wife.

  John gently took his wife’s face in his calloused hands and began dabbing her tears. “Have faith, woman.”

  Elizabeth took the paper towel from her husband and fumbled with it in her hands. Then with an exasperated huff, she looked up from her lap and held the towel in the air. “You gave me your used, bloody paper towel?”

  Heat flushed John’s face. His voice was sheepish. “It’s all I had handy.”

  “I’d say it’s your head that needs examining!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  Dr. Lui laughed. “You two were made for each other. But if you’re ready, I’d like to continue.”

  Without a third chair, John continued to crouch beside his wife in preparation for what Dr. Lui had to say.

  “It’s difficult to speculate what information we would have gained from a psychological examination had it occurred yesterday. The purpose would be to reveal how the delusional theme might cross over into various psychological areas of functioning and thinking patterns. At this point, now that drug therapy has begun,” Dr. Lui’s face wrinkled in disappointment, “it is best to get Emily stabilized and then proceed with the mental exam.”

  “And the witnesses?” John asked in curiosity.

  Dr. Lui’s brow furrowed. “Both the third shift nurse last night and the nurse currently on duty heard Emily speaking of a ‘Sam.’ He is believed to be the boy she described living at the farm.”

  Both Elizabeth and John nodded simultaneously.

  “The purpose of the medication is to stop the hallucinations altogether,” Dr. Lui stated.

  “So, as long as she talks about Sam, the medication continues?” John asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What if that doesn’t work?” John looked over at his daughter, lying in bed.

  “Anti-psychotic medication is the number one method of treatment.”

  John cringed hearing the word psychotic.

  “In some cases, when the psychotic features are associated with depression, other measures are necessary and work with fairly high results and low risks,” Dr. Lui finished.

  “Like what?” John asked naively.

  “I really don’t think it will result in that—” Elizabeth tried to end the conversation.

  “I’d like to know,” John interrupted.

  “ECT,” the doctor spoke clearly.

  John, still crouching beside his wife, held a blank expression on his face.

  “Electro-convulsive therapy.”

  “What?” John nearly yelled. “I sure as hell don’t like the words electric and convulsion combined into the same word.”

  “John,” Elizabeth hissed.

  “It is a relatively simple technique where they hook small electrodes up to the patient’s scalp—” Dr. Lui began.

  “And electrocute someone until they flip out into a seizure?” John took a defensive stance near his daughter. “No frickin’ way is anybody going to do that to my daughter!”

  Visions of his daughter’s entire body shaking uncontrollably on some metal bed with smoking electrodes taped to her head and the burning flesh under each buzzing pod charged with ample electricity…was more than he could handle.

  “Mr. Stokes,” Dr. Lui tried to console, “no one has even begun to consider that technique. It is far too early in the treatment stage for that. I only brought it up because you asked.”

  The doctor stood and faced John, who was regaining his composure. “I know that this is very difficult for you. Mental illness can be an extremely difficult diagnosis to accept.” Dr. Lui’s posture relaxed and she tried to smile. “Perhaps you two would like some time to be alone with Emily.”

  “That would be appreciated,” Elizabeth replied.

  The doctor left, leaving the two parents alone with their drugged and unresponsive daughter.

  “It was almost like she was on his side,” John sneered as he doubled-checked the hallway for snoops and ears.

  “But she’s not. She said it with compassion.”

  “Oh, Izzy.” John reached out for his wife, returning inside the room.

  “Have faith, man.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  CALAMITY

  AFTER SPENING A QUIET DAY with Emily, John and Elizabeth drove to the other side of the city to pick up Kat from camp. Their thoughts were collectively divided between the relief of knowing that Emily would continue resting throughout the night, and the preoccupation with the only clear word Emily continued to speak, “Sam.”

  Elizabeth was the first to break the silence. “I’m not sure what I find more disturbing. The diagnosis, or for her to be so in love with someone that doesn’t exist.”

  “In love?” John asked skeptically.

  “Oh yes,” she sighed. “I tell you John, you should have seen her walk in the kitchen door the first night that Sam came to be. She was utterly and entirely enamored.”

  “I thought people had hallucinations about aliens, or God talking to them—not about falling in love,” he said.

  “I only know general information pertinent to schizophrenia, but I’m still not convinced that is what she has. I don’t think she’s had the symptoms long enough to warrant such a diagnosis. Plus, we just don’t have that kind of mental illness in our family history.”

  “Suppose the jackass is wrong. You brought up depression before… She really liked that Alex kid. Maybe I should have been more accepting of him when he showed up on our doorstep the night we moved.”

  “Stop second guessing yourself.”

  John patted his wife’s thigh. “I still remember the day you walked into my gun shop, looking for a pistol to protect yourself from that nut-job down in Wichita.”

  “The BTK serial killer,” Elizabeth recalled. The corners of her lips curved up. “Instead, I found you—a far better alternative to a handgun.”

  His face soured. “Up until today, I believed I could keep my family safe from any danger.”

  “John….” His wife’s expression was soft and compassionate. “Emily is not in danger.”

  “Damn it, Elizabeth, you know what I mean,” he said, smashing his fist atop the dash.

  She slunk back in her seat. “I do now.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, still driving with one hand. He glanced at Elizabeth. “I am out of my realm here. I grew up watching Westerns, for Pete’s sake; I learned that all a man ever needed in life was an accurate six-shooter and a new wagon wheel.” John shook his head, laughing at his own simplicity.

  “I cannot tell you how thankful I am that you are the man in my life.” She reached over to hold her husband’s hand. “Nearly every day I meet men who are in no way qualified to be fathers, which is probably why their children are on probation. Our children get good grades, are active in extra-curricular activities—you have done a wonderful job.”

  “But I feel so helpless. I don’t know what to do, Izzy.”

  “Just be there for her. Tell her that you love her, no matter what.”

  “I don’t know.” Feelings of inadequacy lingered on. “John Wayne was a hell of a gun fighter.”

  Elizabeth gave her husband’s hand a tight squeeze. “That may be true, but John Stokes is a hell of a father.”

  Kat waved erratically as her parents pulled up at the camp entrance. Running lickity-split across the grass, she stopped herself with a crashing thunk against the driver’s side car door. “Can I go to camp next week, too? There are still openings!”

  John looked over at Elizabeth. “What a great idea!” Getting out of the car, he gave Kat an extra big hug. “It’s good to see you, Honey. Let’s go get the 4-1-1 from the registration desk.”

  She and John returned a few minutes later.

  “I’m in!” Kat announced to her mother, still seated in the car.

  Elizabeth smiled enthusiastically, but once
on the road, it didn’t take Kat long to pick up on the unusually tense atmosphere. Both of her parents were strangely quiet, yet overly doting at the same time. They seemed to hang on every word she said. Kat was calculating the probability of getting a dog if she were to ask for it when she noticed the car was headed for home, instead of the hospital.

  “Why aren’t we going to see Emily?”

  “She’s resting,” her mother replied.

  “So? I still want to see her.”

  “Well, it’s more like sleeping, actually.”

  “Sleeping?”

  “Yes, the medication she is taking makes her very tired,” Elizabeth continued.

  Kat sat quietly in the back of the car, heading in what she thought to be the wrong direction. Finally she spoke up. “Emily is really sick, huh?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “What’s wrong with her? And don’t sugar coat the facts. I can handle the truth.”

  Although the words were not intended to be funny, she saw her parents smile.

  “The truth, huh?” her Dad echoed back, glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror.

  “Yes, Daddy, I want the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God.”

  “I wonder where she gets that from?” John peered at Elizabeth from the corner of his eye.

  Ignoring the implied accusation, Elizabeth proceeded to explain Emily’s condition. “Emily is not sick in the way most people get sick.” Elizabeth cranked her body around as far as possible in order to face Kat. “It is not like an ear infection where we go in and get a prescription to make us feel better. It’s more like a malfunction.

  “There are many different chemicals that make our brains work correctly. For example, my personal favorite is serotonin. One of the duties of this chemical is to make us feel happy.”

  “Is that what’s wrong with Em?”

  “She has different chemicals that are not working properly. Emily’s mind is making stuff up and right now, she can’t tell the difference between what is real and what her mind is imagining.”

  Kat blinked.

  “Remember when you were younger, and you used to pretend that you were Jane of the Jungle?”

  “Yes—”

  “Well, Em doesn’t know she’s pretending.”

  Kat’s eyebrows wrinkled as she scowled. “What is she pretending?”

  Elizabeth shifted in her seat. “About the farm, and Sam.”

  “Sam!”

  The conversation ended, and Kat became very still and quiet as she thought over all the things Emily had recently told her about Sam.

  “Kat?” Elizabeth checked over her shoulder. “How about if you choose a game the three of us can play tonight after dinner?”

  She knew to expect popcorn and a game on Sunday night, but tonight was not Sunday. It was Friday. The offer intended to bring comfort only gave her a stomachache.

  “This is horrible!” Kat said beneath her breath. “The doctors have obviously made a mistake.”

  Although Kat never claimed to be an expert at anything, there were a few things she was quite certain about. Take monsters for example. She was sure there were no such things as monsters that lived under the bed. The reality of Santa, on the other hand, was questionable. But after her father produced digital prints of Rudolph, the theory of the jolly man in red seemed a bit more reasonable. And the tooth fairy. Kat knew to expect a visit from her on nights she had a tooth fall out. That was a no-brainer.

  Then there was Sam. He wasn’t a monster. Or some fabricated character. Deep in her heart, Kat knew Sam was real, and she had to find him.

  Early the next morning, Kat dressed herself in comfortable clothes for hiking. Then she grabbed a small notebook and two pencils, and stuffed them in a floral designed purse.

  “I’ll need these,” she said to herself as she grabbed a handful of hair ribbons and stuffed them in too.

  Satisfied she had everything from her bedroom, she held the purse out at shoulder height and examined her choice. “Still room for water and a snack.”

  Just then, her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d better not skip breakfast. After all, food was important for thinking and today, she was Private Detective Stokes, in search of a missing person. Slinging the strap over her shoulder, she headed down for a bite to eat.

  Despite her intense excitement, Kat resisted running down the stairs as fast as she could. She could not risk raising suspicion in her parents. Each step was a deliberate thump as she made her way down the steps.

  “Look who’s up and already dressed,” her mother greeted her.

  Kat smiled at her mom, who was pouring cream in her coffee. After closing the refrigerator door with her foot, Elizabeth planted a kiss on Kat as she walked by.

  John looked up from yesterday’s newspaper with his own coffee cup, still steaming. “My goodness! She even has a smile.”

  “It’s not that big’a deal that I’m up.” Kat tried to downplay her early morning rise and hide her floral purse at the same time. “It’s not like I have plans or anything.”

  Sitting at the table next to her father, Kat tried to sound nonchalant. “I sure am hungry.”

  “How about some bacon and eggs?” Elizabeth suggested.

  “With hash browns!” Kat’s eyes shone brightly. “And some orange juice, too?”

  “You are hungry,” John remarked, setting his paper aside. He looked pointedly at his daughter. “What kind of mischief are you up to today?”

  Kat’s whole body flashed hot and she thought she was going to burst into flames. He knows!

  Kat swallowed hard and looked at her father’s face.

  It looked normal.

  “Oh, not much,” she said in her most unenthusiastic voice. “I was just thinking about counting how many different kinds of birds I could see in the woods today. Have you talked to Em yet?”

  “She’s still sleeping,” Elizabeth said, pouring the shredded potatoes into the frying pan. “Birding sounds like fun.”

  Kat’s empty stomach knotted in fear that her parents might like to go along. That would be disastrous! “Yeah, I think I’ll have fun. What are you two up to today besides visiting Emily? Watering your flowers, and rearranging the garage?” she added quickly.

  “The soil is dry, that’s for sure. And the weeds….”

  “Actually, the garage is pretty clean already.” John sat up tall in his chair.

  Kat’s eyes bugged and she held her breath. She just knew he was going to ask to go along.

  “How about we go fishing later after I visit your sister?” he asked.

  In great relief, Kat slouched against the backrest of her chair. Then she put on a chipper smile. “Later might be possible. Unless Mom says I can visit Em.”

  “Okay, then.” John picked the paper up off the table and opened it with a firm shake.

  Kat silently congratulated herself on successfully eluding her first obstacle—getting out of the house without being followed. Then time dragged.

  She looked on with agony as the second hand on the wall clock made another full sweep. Breakfast was taking too long. Valuable time was being wasted!

  Hurry up, Mom! Clues are probably disintegrating as I sit here. Everybody knows from TV shows that it’s next to impossible to solve a case after it turns cold!

  Another minute passed.

  Kat began to fidget with her bag. She double, then triple checked its contents, making sure she had everything she would need. She considered skipping breakfast altogether, but decided against it only for the fact that she believed the vitamins and minerals would help her to think more logically, like a super sleuth.

  In the middle of Kat’s preoccupation with saving the day, her thoughts returned to her sister. “Why does Em sleep so much?”

  “She’s on some pretty powerful medicine,” Elizabeth replied.

  “It makes her sleep?” Kat asked. “How can she get better that way?”

  “I don’t know,” Eli
zabeth sighed, wiping some stress off her forehead.

  “Don’t worry, Mom,” Kat spoke up. “Everything will be okay.”

  “Spoken like a true Stokes,” Elizabeth said, placing the plate before Kat.

  Breakfast was worth the wait. Kat’s hunger pangs vanished and her good mood returned. After putting her dirty dishes in the sink, she asked her mother for a bottle of water, grabbed her own snack, and placed them both into her bag and zipped it shut.

  Just as Kat was about to leave, a mixture of scary-excitement filled her little body. It reminded her of the feeling she got when she would inch closer to the front of the roller coaster line. Hesitating, she turned towards her parents, still at the kitchen table. Placing her hand over her heart, she cleared her throat and declared, “Mom, Dad, I love you!” With a flamboyant wave, Kat sent a shower of invisible love towards her parents before disappearing out the door.

  “Stay close,” her mother called from inside.

  Crossing her fingers, Kat replied, “I will.”

  Taking a secure hold of her purse, Kat prepared for her secret mission. She recalled seeing her sister emerge from the south edge of the yard, next to the bird house she and her dad put up. Standing underneath the tiny house, she scanned the depths of the forest. Trees, trees, everywhere. Kat searched for some kind of landmark. Nothing stood out. She kept searching.

  “Ah-ha!” She spied a cluster of poplar trees, growing unusually close. She quickly appreciated her dad teaching her about land references during their many fishing trips.

  Kat locked her eyes on her target. Upon arrival, she unzipped her floral bag, reached in and pulled out one of the ribbons to tie it around a branch. She smiled as she stepped back to admire her well-formed bow. Next, she retrieved her pad of paper and one of the pencils. Flipping the notebook open with exaggerated flair, she wrote a small numeral “one” followed by a period, then, the word “home.” On the next line, she wrote the number “two” followed by a period, and then the words, “three trees.”