Second Lives

by P. D. Cacek

  “If they only had amnesia, yes, but that’s not the case this time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Jamie and the others died.” Blunt and brutal and he hated himself for doing that. “This isn’t a fugue state or amnesia. The people you loved are never coming back.”

  “You don’t know that,” the man said with tears in his eyes.

  “I’m afraid I do,” Barney said.

  “How?” Sara’s husband demanded. “How can you be so sure?”

  Barney glanced down at the head of legal – “Now what are you going to do?” – and took a deep breath. So much for not telling them.

  “Because there have been other cases.”

  The head of legal slumped back in his seat and Barney couldn’t tell if it was from relief because now it was obviously not the hospital’s fault, or shock.

  “Others?”

  “Yes, not many, but there are other cases worldwide.”

  “What the fuck’s going on?”

  Mrs. Rollins pressed her lips together and looked down.

  “If there are more cases,” Sara’s father-in-law asked, “why haven’t we heard about them?”

  The head of legal started to stand up, thinking his work was done, but Barney waved him back down.

  “To avoid panic,” he said. “Can you imagine what would happen if the populace found out that the…that certain souls have come back?”

  “The zombie apocalypse just got real,” Jamie’s partner chuckled without humor. “Jesus.”

  Mrs. Rollins shushed him on that.

  “They’re not zombies,” Barney said quickly. “They’re living, breathing human beings just like you and me who are just misplaced in time. Now, can you imagine what would happen if people…if the media found out about them? They would not only be looked at as aberrations – ”

  A voice muttered something that Barney chose to ignore.

  “ – but there are those in our society who might see them as a threat, whether it be to their religious beliefs or how they view the world as a whole. People as individuals are wonderful, but people as a mob can destroy what they don’t understand. If we reveal what happened here, it could ultimately destroy them.”

  Barney exhaled softly and looked at their faces. His speech was a little heavy-handed, but sometimes you had to hit hard, knowing it was the only way to leave an impression.

  Mrs. Rollins raised her hand. Barney nodded at her.

  “Are you sure about this, Dr. Ellison?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?”

  “Do?” Sara’s husband stood up and flung his file across the room where it fluttered like a broken and dying bird to the polished floor. “I know what I’m going to do. I don’t care what you say, I’m going to sue this hospital, that’s what I’m – ”

  “Danny!”

  “ – going to do.”

  “Danny, stop it.” His mother grabbed at his hand, but he pulled away. “Sit down.”

  “No!” He pointed a barrel-straight finger at Barney. “Something happened and the hospital’s responsible for it!”

  “No,” the head of the legal department said as he stood up, “we’re not. Before we spoke with Dr. Ellison, the board convened an M&M conference – that stands for mortality and morbidity – to discuss what happened with the four physicians involved and the assembly found them blameless of any sort of negligence. Everything that could have been done medically for the patients had been done. The hospital cannot be held accountable.”

  Sara’s husband sat down.

  “How nice for the hospital,” Jamie’s partner mumbled.

  “Shh, now,” Mrs. Rollins said, then looked up at Barney. “What’s going to happen to them?”

  Barney gave the floor back to the head of legal.

  “The matter has been discussed,” the man said, “and if no other option presents itself then suitable accommodations will be found for them in either our long-term or assisted living facilities.”

  Barney thought it would be Mrs. Rollins who’d ask the next question, but it was Sara’s mother who raised her hand.

  “What other options are you talking about?”

  “Well,” the man said, cool and steady as if he’d been saying things like this throughout his tenure at the hospital, “legally these people are still members of your family although the hospital has decided, given the circumstances, to forgo billing any and all expenses that have accrued before or after August 24th.” He cleared his throat when no one jumped up to give him a standing ovation. “It only seemed the right thing to do.”

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Rollins said. “But you didn’t say what the other option was.”

  “That you take them home.”

  Barney had expected another round of shouting and threats, but the cold silence was worse.

  “I understand,” he said, “with the exception of their outward appearance, these people are strangers to you.”

  “That’s the truth,” Jamie’s partner mumbled just loud enough for the whole room to hear.

  “And you’re under no moral obligation to have anything to do with them, but these people are lost. Everything and everyone they knew is gone. There is nothing familiar that they can see or touch that can anchor them to what they were. With the exception of Ms. Moore, whose parents, Dr. Ellison tells me, are still alive, these people are completely and totally alone. Is there any chance that Ms. Moore’s family will be coming for her?”

  Barney took a deep breath. “I don’t know yet.”

  Sara’s father stood up, tall and rigid, his face ashen, the veins in his neck so taut Barney was afraid they’d burst through the skin if the man so much as moved his head.

  “And you want us to take them in? These things and make them a part of our lives? Are you out of your minds?” He licked his lips. “Okay, I understand about not going public…. God knows I don’t want anyone to know what happened, I couldn’t stand the way people would look at me, but….” His voice broke. “Sara’s dead and I can’t even bury her because that thing…. That’s not Sara, that’s not my daughter.”

  “No,” Barney said, “it’s not Sara and it’s not Helen or Henry or Jamie. I understand how you feel and no one is going to force you to do anything. It’s all right. Mr. Lathrop has some papers he will ask you to sign that will grant custody of the individuals to the hospital.”

  On cue, the head of the legal department reached for the briefcase he’d sequestered beneath the table when he arrived and pulled out a stack of papers. Barney watched seven pairs of eyes follow the stack as if it was a shooting star.

  “If we sign these, it’s over? We’ll never see these people again?” Mrs. Rollins asked.

  “Yes,” Barney answered.

  “It will be like Henry died and I buried him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then no, I’m not going to sign.” Taking another handkerchief, this one pink with an embroidered band of blue flowers, from her purse, Mrs. Rollins pressed it to her nose and stood up. “And the rest of you shouldn’t either. These aren’t our people, but they look like them and maybe this is God’s way of giving us just a little more time with them.”

  Someone, maybe Jamie’s partner, moaned.

  “I know, but I’m just an old woman who doesn’t want to let go of the man she loved. Not yet, and this way I don’t have to. And I know it’s not him. My Henry has gone to a better place, but there’s another soul to look after now, a lost little boy who’s also been given another taste of the life he lost.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away. “I don’t know why, maybe they were all taken too soon and that’s why God did this. Maybe He brought them back so we can help them. For me, I can pretend it’s Henry in that fugal state Dr. Ellison talked about because it’s not going to be much d
ifferent than how he was before.”

  Barney didn’t even think about correcting her. He liked the term fugal state.

  “Why do you care what happens to them?” Sara’s mother-in-law asked.

  “Because,” Mrs. Rollins said, “I like to think that’s what Henry would do if it was the other way around.” She paused to let the words sink in before turning back to Barney. “They’re not sick, are they?”

  “Not in the way you might mean it,” he said, “but I believe all of them should remain under observation for a few more weeks at least. Elisabeth and Crissy are post-op, Timmy is responding well to the antibiotics treating his pneumonia and Aryeh is coming along with his physical therapy.”

  It didn’t dawn on Barney until he saw the looks on their faces that he’d been using the names the Fab Four had given him. He cleared his throat.

  “They should be ready to leave by the end of next month.”

  “They’re not sick,” Mrs. Rollins repeated, “and they’re not crazy, so they don’t deserve to spend the rest of their lives in a hospital, do they?”

  Barney felt his own eyes begin to burn. “No, they don’t.”

  The old woman smiled at him. “I don’t think so either. They’re alone. If we turn our backs on them, they have no one, isn’t that right?”

  Barney nodded and Mrs. Rollins straightened her shoulders and took a step forward.

  “Dr. Ellison, I’d like to go meet Timmy now,” she said, then turned to look at the others. “Whoever these people are, they’re alone and in need. Let’s introduce ourselves and see if we can help them. Come on, now.”

  Barney watched as the woman got the others to their feet and herded them to the door, making a brief detour to pick up the file Sara’s husband had thrown across the room and handing it back to him.

  “I’m glad she’s on our side,” the head of legal said as he picked up his briefcase and filed out with them.

  Barney followed and found Mrs. Rollins waiting for him in the hall.

  “Can I ask you something, Dr. Ellison?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Rollins.”

  “Why did this happen?”

  He smiled. “Maybe it’s like you said, Mrs. Rollins, and only God knows.”

  PART FIVE

  SEPTEMBER

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Timmy

  “He’s dying, Miss Nora.”

  Nora nodded and turned to look at the man laughing at cartoons and eating ice cream from a big plastic bowl the nurses had given him. The nurses loved him and spoiled him rotten. Only a few of the nurses knew what had happened. Both Doctors Cross and Ellison thought it best to keep it that way, but Nora didn’t think it would have been a problem. The nurses and hospice workers were God’s own angels on Earth and took the fact that Henry now wanted to be called Timmy and behaved like any normal almost six-year-old in their stride.

  After all, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen that sort of thing before with Alzheimer’s patients.

  “He’s just a big kid,” they told her, “and really sweet…not like some of the others.”

  Yes, Timmy was a good little boy.

  “Miss Nora, did you hear what I said?”

  Nora nodded. “I heard, Martin.”

  “He came through the pneumonia with flying colors, and we’re treating his respiratory and blood pressure issues as before, but the disease is still progressing. Alzheimer’s physically changes the structure of the brain – there’s no way to stop or reverse it, but you already know that. Timmy’s dying. His brain is shutting down and taking his body with it. I’m so sorry.”

  Nora made sure her face was calm when she finally turned around.

  “Henry already died, Martin, and I accept that. It’s just so unfair to Timmy. He’s just a baby.”

  “I know, but you have to remember, Timmy already died once.”

  “But he came back. Why would God do that only to take him away again so soon?”

  When he couldn’t answer, Nora reached out and squeezed his arm.

  “I’m sorry, Martin, I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just…. Oh, it’s just that I’m pissed off.”

  An explosion of laughter blew Dr. Cross’s face apart. “Miss Nora!”

  “Well, I am,” she said and squeezed his arm again before looking away. Timmy was trying to spoon another tablespoon of ice cream into his mouth without taking his eyes off the lobby’s large-screen TV. Bless the nurse who’d put the oversized bib around his neck. “Poor little thing, he gets hit by a car and when he wakes up he’s stuck inside a dying old man. Where’s the sense in that?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Nora.”

  “Well, maybe I do. Yes, maybe I do know why.” Nodding, Nora met Dr. Cross’s eyes. “I’m going to take him home.”

  “What? No, Miss Nora, we brought him here because….”

  “Henry was here because I couldn’t handle him at home anymore, but this is Timmy and Timmy is just a little boy. I think I can handle a little boy, Martin, don’t you?”

  “A little boy in a grown man’s body…a body that’s slowly breaking down. Miss Nora, be reasonable, he can’t walk more than a few feet without gasping for breath.”

  Nora lifted her chin. Stickin’ it out, was what Henry used to say. “Oh, Lord, watch out! She’s gettin’ feisty now. Look at that chin, she stickin’ it out, ready to fight.”

  “I know that, Martin, but he can move around a little and get into bed by himself and he’s fine with being in a wheelchair the rest of the time. I told him it was because he was hurt in the accident. He remembers the accident.”

  That was a lie and Nora hoped God would forgive her for it…and for having been pissed off at Him, but since He was God she supposed He couldn’t help but forgive her. Timmy didn’t remember the accident or the car that killed him, but he remembered the last day of his life and that he was going to have a baby brother or sister and even sang Nora the Howdy Doody song. He knew he was in a hospital and that he’d been asleep for a long time because he was bigger – he was a very bright little boy – but the only thing he was really worried about was that his mommy was mad at him.

  He wanted his mommy and when Nora told him that his mommy and daddy had gone away to have the baby and asked her to take care of him he got scared and started to cry. It broke Nora’s heart.

  She couldn’t let him live out the rest of his life in a hospital, surrounded by strangers. Timmy deserved some happiness for whatever time he had left. Timmy deserved a home.

  Her home.

  And maybe that’s why God chose to give Henry’s body to Timmy – so she could take care of him.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Miss Nora. As feisty as you are – ”

  “Feisty?” She smiled at the word. If both Henry and Martin thought she was feisty, maybe she was.

  “ – you know you can’t take care of him by yourself.”

  “Then I’ll get help.”

  “From your daughter?”

  It would have been too big a lie if she said yes to that. Marjorie wanted nothing to do with Timmy. When Nora told her what happened, she saw a side of her daughter she’d never seen before nor expected.

  “Daddy’s dead and you want me to…. No, I’m not going to pretend that thing is Daddy.”

  “No, honey, no, he’s not Daddy and I’m not trying to tell you he is. Baby, your daddy’s gone and I pray for his soul every night, but this poor little child is—”

  “Is an abomination and he can go back to hell where he came from for all I care. How can you think I’d want to…to…even be in the same room with him?”

  “No,” Nora told him, “Marjorie has enough to do already, what with her own children and all. I’ll get a nurse to come in, like before.”

  Dr. Cross took a deep breath and looked past her. “But it’s not like
before.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you really think you’ll be able to watch him die all over again? Timmy’s only a child, but he will become what Henry was – he’ll forget things and get frustrated and possibly even lash out…and in the end, like Henry, he might not even know who you are. Can you go through all that again?”

  Can I?

  “It’s not a question of if I can,” Nora said. “I’m going to and that’s the end of it. Timmy needs a home for as long as he has left and I’m going to give it to him. But thank you, Martin. I know what you’re trying to tell me and I know how hard it’s going to be, but there’s nothing else I can do. If the situation was reversed, if I’d died and some poor little child took over this body, I know Henry’d be doing the same thing.”

  “But why put yourself through it?”

  “Because right now I’m the only one that little boy has…even if he doesn’t know me that well. His family buried him almost sixty years ago. Even if his parents or siblings are alive, do you think they’d want to see him like this? Do you think they’d recognize him the way he looks now, or even believe you about what happened? His parents would be about my age, I guess – what do you think it’d do to them…or to Timmy if they saw each other? He wouldn’t understand what happened and it’d scare him.”

  Dr. Cross rubbed his eyes but when he lowered his hands he was still looking over her shoulder.

  “You’re right, it would. God, I can’t even imagine what it’s like for him and the others.”

  “No one can, but I think Timmy’s the luckiest of them. He’s just a little boy and little boys are tough, they have to be – that’s how they grow up to be men.” Nora followed Dr. Cross’s gaze back to Timmy. There was ice cream all down the front of him, but he was happy. “How long does he have, Martin?”

  “It’s no easier to say now than before, but…maybe a month, six weeks? I don’t think it will be much longer than that.”

  “Six weeks isn’t very long.”

  “No.”

  “Unless you’re a little boy who doesn’t have to go to school and can watch cartoons all day long and help an old lady eat the cookies she bakes.”