Many Waters

by William Woodall

  Chapter Thirty - Lisa

  I tried to make it look good with Marcus. I really did. Whenever we went out we held hands, and I kissed him now and then even though that part was awfully hard, and we mouthed all the words that people expected to hear. The only time we could drop the pretense was when we got back to Goliad and there were no witnesses. Miss Josie knew the truth, and in spite of her disapproval we both knew she wouldn’t say anything. We had to put on an especially good show whenever Cyrus was around, because he told Cody everything. I hated those episodes even worse than the ones in public, and I’m pretty sure Marcus did too. But I smiled and nodded and let everybody think we were a perfect couple, even though my heart was a thousand miles away.

  Christmas put me in a bad mood, mostly because I knew Cody was in town. It was easy enough to stay away from Goliad for a while, but the thought of accidentally bumping into him somewhere else was always on my mind. I couldn’t imagine what we might say to each other if that happened. Poor Marcus didn’t have a choice in the matter, and that only made me feel worse.

  I tried to take my mind off things by painting, and reading, or mulching the cabbages and broccoli that were still left in the garden. The weather report was calling for a strong cold front to sweep through sometime within the next week, with snow and ice and killing frost, so I had to make sure my vegetables were protected. It helped to while away the time, but unfortunately it didn’t do a thing to help me forget the fact that Cody was only fifteen miles away. Nothing could do that, apparently.

  I wondered if Miss Josie had given him the green vial yet. I hoped so, but I was reluctant to ask Marcus to find out.

  We ended up having a very subdued celebration on Christmas Day, with no one there except me and Jenny and Mama. Jenny was in between boyfriends at the time, and even though I thought about asking Marcus over, I simply couldn’t face the thought of any more intrigue and deception at the moment. So it was just the three of us, and I guess that was all right. Mama seemed more tired than usual and only picked at her food, even though I’d baked a ham and made all her favorite things to entice her.

  The next morning I was supposed to go to work at the Dairy Dip, since they always needed extra staff over the holidays and God knows I needed the cash. But when the next day rolled around I woke up feeling awful, almost like I was coming down with the flu; my head hurt, my body ached, and I had a fever and swollen lymph nodes. I popped a few Tylenols and went on to work anyway, taking it easy because I still felt terrible even with the medicine. Somehow I managed to make it through the day.

  A few days later I felt worse, and I finally succumbed to misery and took refuge in my bed, hoping the fever and aches would go away in a day or two. I thought about going to the doctor, but I strongly suspected they wouldn’t do anything anyway except tell me to get some rest and drink plenty of fluids. If you already know what they’ll say then why waste your time or money?

  Three days after Christmas, the threatened front finally swept through, turning things bitterly cold and snowy and nasty for several days, which did nothing to help me feel better. I talked to Marcus or Brandon occasionally, and sometimes that cheered me up a little bit before bedtime, but there was really nothing anybody could do except let me suffer through it.

  Then, on the morning of New Year’s Eve, Mama had another stroke.

  Naturally it was a holiday weekend and there was no doctor I could get hold of, and Jenny was gone to an early party with her friends and had her phone turned off. In desperation, I called Marcus.

  “Marcus, get over here, now!” I screamed into the phone.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding scared. But then, I guess I would have been, too, if somebody called me up screaming.

  “Mama’s had another stroke. I need to get her to the hospital,” I said.

  “I’ll be right there,” he said, and I spent the next few minutes trying to get Mama ready to go. It was hard, with no help and still being as sick as I was, but somehow I managed it.

  When Marcus finally got there and saw the condition I was in, it must have shocked him.

  “You look awful, Lisa,” he said, staring at me.

  “Yeah, I feel like it, too. But that’s not important right now. Come on, let’s get Mama out to the truck,” I said.

  I was weaker than I thought, and eventually Marcus literally had to carry my mother out to the truck and put her in the seat wrapped in an old quilt to keep her warm, and then drive all the way into Longview to the nearest emergency room.

  To make things worse it was snowing hard again, and he had to drive slower than a snail even on the highway.

  It was over before we got even halfway there; Mama slumped over and stopped breathing, and there was no way I could reach her to do artificial respiration. Not unless we stopped and got out so I’d have more room.

  “Stop!” I yelled at Marcus in a panic, and he hit the brakes, sliding on patchy ice before he came to a halt on the shoulder. He pulled off the road as much as possible, switching the flashers on. But before I even had a chance to get my door open, a car came out of nowhere in the snow and t-boned Marcus’s truck as we sat there. It happened so fast it was over even before I realized what was going on. For a few seconds there was nothing but noise and cold and the truck flipping over and glass smashing, and then silence.

  It didn’t knock me out, but it dazed me; the truck was sitting at a crazy angle against the embankment, with shattered glass and blood everywhere; whether mine or Marcus’s or Mama’s, I had no idea. I looked over and saw Marcus lying very still, whether dead or unconscious I didn’t know and honestly couldn’t summon the energy to care. Icy cold wind was blowing in through the smashed windshield, showering me with snow. The foul smell of hot antifreeze was everywhere. I had an idle thought that we must be close to the same place where Linda McGrath had died all those years ago. I wondered if this was how her last minutes had passed, and what Cody would think when he heard about it.

  I don’t remember much after that, except in fits and starts. I vaguely realized I was bleeding a lot from a deep gash in my thigh, and I was light-headed and drifted in and out of awareness. I dimly remember somebody pulling me out of the truck and putting me in an ambulance, and when they got me to the hospital they wheeled me off for some kind of procedure to stop me from bleeding. I got hysterical again when they wouldn’t tell me anything about Mama, and they had to knock me out before they could even do what they needed to do.