by Robin Janney
“It is,” Judy agreed. She looked at the books strewn across the bed. “How’s the schoolwork coming along?”
“Slow. I’ve missed two whole weeks, and I know I’m going to miss more. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dr. Evans keeps me in the hospital another whole week just to make sure I don’t sneak back to school too soon.” She made a wry face. “I’ve thought about it.”
“I’m sure the doctor wouldn’t keep you any longer than necessary.” Looking at her watch, she thought about suggesting putting the books away for lunch, but Angela was already ahead of her.
“If you think so. I might as well put these books away for now. There’s no point. I can barely read a paragraph. Uhm, I dropped some books on the other side earlier and didn’t think you’d want me to get out of bed to get them, so I left them there.”
“Good girl!” Judy wasn’t entirely sure what all had transpired yesterday, but her patient had been far more cooperative since. Angela wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine, but she’d stopped sneaking out of bed and had even been trying to eat more. Walking around the bed, she saw three books scattered on the floor. One was a zoology book, but the other two didn’t look like schoolbooks to her. She picked them up and handed them to Angela. “They’re not all schoolbooks.”
“Oh?” Angela spread them apart and her face paled. Alarmingly so.
“Angela? What is it?”
“They’re Craig’s sketchbooks. We fought about them before I was sick. I looked at them without permission. I’m a little afraid to look.” Her hands shook as she separated them from the other books, setting them next to the vase of daisies.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t have brought them if he wasn’t comfortable with you looking at them now,” Judy offered. “I can’t help what I’ve heard, Angela. But I know he’s trying to make up for hurting you before you were sick.
Angela nodded and looked embarrassed. “Sometimes I forget you were there when my fever was high.”
“None of it leaves here, Angela. You know that. We’ve known each other too long for you to think otherwise. Aside from losing my job, I’d be losing my friend too.” Checking her watch again, Judy knew it was time to go look for the lunch trays. “Real quick, are you still coming to my wedding in a few weeks?”
“If Dr. Evans lets me out in time.” Angela gave her a quizzical look. “You really think of me as a friend?”
“Of course! You spent so much time at the dojo when we were younger, you’re practically family!”
Angela didn’t seem to know what to say to that, and Judy held back her sigh. She’d always known her aunt’s ‘project child’ as some called her, had depression and self-worth issues, but her time as Angela’s aide had highlighted to her just how deep those issues ran. Especially when the fever was high, and the woman had been begging them to let her die.
“I have to get going for the lunch trays, Angela, but we’ll continue this conversation later. I’ll call home and tell them I’ll be home late, so I can visit off the clock. As your friend.”
“That would be nice. I’d like that.”
C uriosity overcame Angela after she’d made a halfhearted attempt to eat her lunch. The Jell-O had slid down the easiest. Judy had placed the sketchbooks on the folding chair next to the bed, so she could use the tray table for her lunch tray. Her aide had also moved the daisies to the side for the duration of lunch, but as soon as the aide had taken her tray away the vase had been returned to the table.
None of the boys she’d dated in high school had ever given her flowers. Her father had bought her a corsage for her junior prom because she and Michelle had decided to go without dates. Derek had claimed the corsage he’d bought for her flew out on his way to pick her up for senior prom. He’d been driving with the top down on his precious Mustang, so it was possible. As it was, she had been more worried about her hair being ruined by the wind.
As Angela picked the first sketchbook off the chair and placed it in her lap, her doctor walked into the room.
“Good afternoon, Angela. How is my most miserable patient doing?” Dr. Evans walked around the bed, inspecting the flowers on her tray table.
“Feeling a little better. I still feel congested, but it doesn’t hurt as much to breathe anymore.” She shifted in the hospital bed, trying to get comfortable. “Craig sent those.”
“Good.” Evans smiled down at her. “Are the two of you getting better at communicating?”
“I think so. Some of my memories are a little fuzzy, but I’m used to that after being sick.” Angela felt a blush and rubbed at her cheeks in embarrassment.
“I’m glad. He’s very concerned about you. We all are. Craig even considered firing you so you wouldn’t come back to work too soon, but he was afraid if he did that you’d only find work somewhere else with a boss he had no pull with.” Evans chuckled as he told the story.
Angela thought it was funny too, but said with seriousness, “If he hadn’t convinced me we’d made up, I might have anyway. I don’t think I could stand to work there if we weren’t together anymore.”
“Let’s hope you never have to find out.” Her doctor glanced down at the clipboard he carried. “Now, the good news is – I’ll let you go home this afternoon as long as your grandmother is willing to spend a week with you.”
“I believe we were planning on that.” Grandma Pearl had apologized once again for her interference at Christmas and had even backed off on the lecturing. Even her mom had taken a step back and had been nothing but supportive. It had been hard for Angela to process. She’d been out of the loop for over a week, and everybody but her father had changed.
“Good. Have you given any more thought about delaying this semester? I know how close you are to graduating from pre-vet but as your doctor – I would feel better if you took some time to recuperate.”
Angela nodded. “I haven’t really decided. I’ve tried looking at my books and I had a really hard time concentrating. I just hope the fever didn’t fry anything important in my brain.”
“I think you’re just overtaxed. You need to give yourself time to rest, Angela.”
“I promise I’ll think about it. When can I go home?”
Evans smiled at her, and his approval at her promise was evident. “As soon as you can call someone to give you a ride home. Make sure you’re bundled up whenever you go outside, but please limit your time outdoors for a while. Eat three meals a day. Come back and see me in two weeks, unless your lingering cough starts getting worse, then you get back to see me immediately. Is that understood, Angela?”
He was using the same tone of voice her dad used when he wanted no argument. She didn’t have it in her to argue. “I understand. I didn’t…” Sighing, she looked down at the sketchbook in her lap. Her voice lowered as she painfully admitted, “I had no hope, so I didn’t care if I lived or died.”
Her doctor stepped closer and touched her hand with his. “You should have called me. We’ve always had that understanding. Do you still feel this way, Angela?”
“No. Honest. I promise to call you if I feel that way again.”
“Good. I will hold you to that, young lady. Now I’ll go get your discharge paperwork started and you can call for a ride.”
“Thank you.” Her doctor patted her covered foot as he walked back around the bed and out the open door. Realizing she had no idea what time it was other than it was after lunch, Angela wasn’t sure where to find Craig. He could even be on his way even now. She decided to dial the store.
“Country Cupboard, you’re speaking to Larry.”
“Hi Larry! Is…”
“Angela? Hey everybody…it’s Angela!”
She covered her face in embarrassment as she heard a chorus of hello’s. It must be late enough for school to be out.
“How are you feeling?” Larry was asking. “It’s not half as fun here without you.”
“Thanks. I’m feeling pretty speechless at the moment.”
“What? No way! I’m sure it won’
t last long. If you’re looking for the boss, he left about fifteen minutes ago. I think he was on his way to see you.”
“Yeah, that’s why I was calling,” she admitted. “Tell everyone I said hi and thanks for the flowers.”
“Will do. Later!”
He hung up, and she managed to laugh as she replaced the phone in its slot. Setting back against the head of the bed, Angela decided to look inside the sketchbook on her lap. It looked older as the corners were worn, and the cover was faded.
The top page was apparently a title page of sorts. In the center of the page THE DRAGON DREAM was written in bold angry lettering surrounded by jagged lightning bolts in vivid colors. With hesitation, she flipped to the next page.
And just stared.
The scene depicted before her was dark and angry. Angrier than the words alone had been. A knight in full armor locked in gruesome combat with a fierce looking dragon. The reptile dominated the sketch, smoke and fire billowing from her mouth. Her talons pierced the knight’s armor, and blood ran down the armor to pool on the red sand beneath them. Everything else was in black and white tones except for the sand and the blood.
Her instinct told her the knight represented Craig, even though the knight’s face was obscured by a full helmet. Just like the dragon screamed female. Something about the eyes, and the curve of the talons.
She turned the page to find a different variation of the same scene, with the same color scheme. A quick flip through the pages showed more of the same. Sometimes the dragon ate the knight, sometimes he was dropped over a cliff, or from high in the sky. As she was looking at a particularly gruesome dismemberment, Angela felt someone sit on the edge of her bed.
There was only one person who did that. She looked up and thought her boyfriend looked: Nervous? Vulnerable? Both. Sometimes she forgot she wasn’t the only one who hid pain. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi. The nurses told me you can go home soon.”
“Probably just as soon as I can sign paperwork. I tried calling but Larry said you already left. I probably should have called my parents, so someone could bring me a change of clothes and bring Grandma Pearl to my apartment.” She cleared her throat.
“Ah, yeah. We’ll do that. Look, Angela, I was hoping I’d get here before you had a chance to look at the sketches, so I could explain them and answer any questions I’m sure you must have.” Craig scratched his ear as he spoke.
“You’re here now. The other sketchbook I looked at impressed me. These are…you have an amazing talent, Craig. This is art. Disturbing art, but art. The imagery escapes me somewhat. I mean, I know the knight is you…and that these are old sketches, but…” Fear rumbled in her stomach. “I can tell the dragon is female. Is that what women are to you? Am I a dragon?”
“No!” Craig slid up the bed quickly and cupped her face with both hands. “Don’t ever think that! The dragon…represents one woman, my stepmother. There may have been a time when I considered all women to be like her, but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way. There’s a reason why I call you Angel…It’s…” He sighed, dropping his hands to rest on her shoulders. His mouth twisted in an amused smile. “I’ve done this all backwards again. I’m sorry. Remember my recurring dream?”
“Yes. Wait, are you telling me these are from your dream?” Goosebumps popped up on her skin at his nod. And she thought her nightmare of reliving the accident was bad. She wouldn’t have stayed sane if they’d been like this at all.
He reached for the other sketchbook. “Remember how I told you there had been a recent plot twist?”
“Vaguely. Something about a good part in the middle?”
Craig was nodding, opening the newer sketchbook to its first page. “Here. You’re…you’re the plot twist.”
What? She looked down at the book. It was the title page, like the other. ENTER THE ANGEL was surrounded by vines of green with pink and white blossoms. Angela’s heart pounded in her chest as she flipped the page to see a full color sketch.
The knight was sprawled on the ground, his helmet on the ground as he looked up at the angel flying between him and the dragon. An angel was holding the knight’s lance with confidence, lightning streaming from the end encircling the dragon. The figures weren’t as large as the other dream fragments had been, facial features weren’t clear. She flipped to the next page to find the dragon gone, the angel the center of the sketch as she tended to the knight’s wounds. The angel was definitely Angela, even though he had put too much red in the angel’s hair.
It was captivating. The angel was a creature of beauty she didn’t know she could live up to. The knight’s rough features clearly showed love for her. And these were early sketches?
“Kevin…Kevin said it was probably my subconscious trying to prod me, and it just wasn’t being very subconscious about it.”
His wording, or perhaps the irony of it caused her to give a quiet laugh. Something caught her eye, and she flipped back and forth through the sketches. “Hmm, you lose a piece of armor in each sketch.”
“Yeah, well, you do have a way of slipping through my armor and my defenses,” he admitted, sounding amused.
Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him. “Kind of like how you see through my walls and my bluff.”
His smile widened. She could see relief on his face. “Sounds about right,” he said.
“You don’t draw yourself half as handsome as you really are. How do you do that anyway? Do you draw from memory?”
“Actually, yeah I do.” His hand came up, caressed her cheek.
Was this it? The kiss he’d promised on the flower card? She decided to ask. “Are you going to kiss me like you said on the card?”
He nodded, his hand cupping her face, fingers light on her skin.
“Can I touch you?” she asked, as he drew near.
He hesitated, but then said, “Yes.”
Angela brought her hand up to mirror his touch on her face as his lips touched hers. Gentle, with a passion and hunger he was controlling. She couldn’t stop the happy sound low in her throat.
He drew back, resting his forehead against hers. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “Angel, you can touch me any time you want.”
She let her hand slip around to the back of his head, gently pulling him into another kiss. This time he was the one making the happy sound.
There was a sharp rap on the door and the clearing of a throat.
Craig pulled away from her, slowly and with a smile on his face. So unlike Christmas.
“I hate to break this up, kids,” said Maris as she walked in, papers in her hands. “But I have your discharge papers ready, Angela. As soon as you’re ready, Judy and April can help you get ready to go.”
Her heart was still racing in her chest, but she nodded. “I’ll just have to call my parents to bring me a change of clothes.”
“That’s fine,” the raven-haired nurse said, a smile on her face.
As the nurse guided Angela through the paperwork, Craig tried to quiet his own racing heart. It wasn’t easy. He left his seat on the edge of the bed and walked over to the window to look out. The afternoon sun was bright, making it look warmer outside than it was. He heard Angela and the nurse talking, heard Angela call her parents.
“They’re on their way,” she said. He heard the click of the phone as she slid it back into its slot. “Are you okay?”
He turned and looked at her. “I’m better than okay.” He crossed back to her. “Just a little overwhelmed.”
She nodded and waved towards the daisies he had sent. “Thank you for the daises.”
“Did they make you happy?”
It was a shy smile she gave him. “They did. Did you take the roses with you last night? The ones Mark sent.”
“I did. I let the nurses have them. I hope that was alright.” She nodded. He looked over at her other flowers. “I’m going to go find a box or something, so you can take them all home.”
“I don’t know where I’m going to put t
hem, but I don’t want to part with them either.” She gave a happy sounding sigh.
He started to press a kiss to her forehead, but let it hit her lips again. Just a light quick pressing. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here.”
41
I t felt wonderful to be back in her own apartment, curled up on her couch beneath her blankets but Angela felt crowded with everyone there. ‘Everyone’ was her father, her boyfriend and her grandmother. Craig was out in the kitchen, making a soup he said would make her feel better. Her grandmother sat with her in the living room, seated in the little armchair knitting. And her father paced around the narrow living room anxiously. She was tired, and just wanted to be alone. If she were honest, she just wanted her family to leave her alone with her boyfriend.
There was a metallic clang from the kitchen, and she looked out there. But Craig didn’t slow in his movements, whatever it was must not have been anything important. She relaxed against her pillow.
“Angela,” her father said, coming to a stop behind the couch. “We need to talk.”
“I’ll try to stay awake for it.”
“I’m being serious, young lady.” He looked over his imaginary reading glasses at her.
“So am I, Dad. I’m not trying to sass. I’m just tired.” He looked worried to her. And tired.
Philip sighed and came around the couch. “Can you move your feet?”
Curling her feet closer, she twisted to sit up with the arm of the couch at her back as her father sat at the other end. Her daisies sat in the middle of the kitchen table and she could see them from here. Craig glanced in at her, flashed her a smile. She waited for her father to speak.
“Honey, I want you to call the police tomorrow and report your stalker.”
She groaned. “They’re not going to do anything, Dad. I was dumb and erased the message where he threatened me.”
Philip sighed, dropped his hand on her knees. “I don’t want to scare you, but I need you to take this seriously. Someone has been standing outside your windows. It doesn’t look like they’ve tried getting in, but they’ve stood there long enough to leave some pretty deep imprints.”