by Mylo Carbia
“Oh, yes, Maria. Oh, uh, no, no problem. I mean, we’re cool. We don’t need your help today. You should take the afternoon off. Aren’t you cold without a coat?”
“Not the way I work up a sweat, child, you know that.”
Wesley moved to hide the dried blood on his hands.
“You feelin’ all right, son?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine. Just had a long night.”
Miss Eloise turned around and looked at the unfamiliar yellow car parked right in front of the house. “Yes, I can see that.”
Shit. I forgot about Ava’s car!
“Yes, ma’am. Long night.”
***
Sebastian was crouched at the foot of the waterbed with the turkey baster raised in his right hand. His chest was lifted and his eyes were focused, ready to perform the sadistic gynecological cleaning procedure. David was immediately beside him, trembling over his shoulder. “Okay. Here we go…”
***
“But how did you hurt your hand, Wesley? Let me take a look at it.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine. I just got in a fight last night. At a bar. I’m fine.”
“You in a fight? Over what?” Eloise cracked a nostalgic smile. “The girl who drives that ugly car?”
Wesley returned an awkward smile.
“You remind me so much of your daddy before he met your mother. Whew, Lord! If you only knew the bachelor stories I got locked up in my secret box. But those come with me to the grave, ya hear?”
Wesley once again faked a pleasant smile.
***
Sebastian slowly rose from the foot of the bed, his eyes wide open and filled with panic.
“What…the?”
The empty turkey baster rolled from his hand, down to the floor.
David started to cry.
***
“In this day and age, playing with the wrong lady friend can get you killed. I know you know what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Yes, Miss Eloise.”
“I’m serious, Wesley. This AIDS thing ain’t no joke. They say regular people can get it now too.”
“Yes, ma’am. I know that.”
“Well, okay then. I understand you don’t want to be disturbed right now, so I’ll come back tomorrow after church. Just make sure you’ve asked your lady friend to leave by then.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will. Thank you.”
Wesley awkwardly waved good-bye to Miss Eloise as she turned to walk back down the porch. As fast as he could, he closed the door and locked it. When he turned around, he saw a shirtless David standing in the living room: speechless, crying and hyperventilating.
Wesley sprinted into the bedroom.
As he entered, his face contorted in pure horror.
“What the fuck is happening to her???”
Ava’s naked, grotesque body was convulsing violently on the bed. Her skin, blackened and bloody, oozing clear liquid against the white sheets like a piece of barbeque chicken leaking onto a thin paper plate. Her legs were spread wide and distorted, her dark brown bush of pubic hair clumped with dried red matter. Her waist, mustard yellow and blue from bruising, her small pink breast nipples on the floor, cut off, leaving gaping holes that had coagulated into black scabs overnight. Her pale arms, limp and lifeless, while her torso rose up and down, seizuring, lifting inches above the bed. Her head, heavy and weighed down, attached to the black satin pillow, her white scalp showing through the ripped out pieces of her dark reddish-brown hair. The whole scene looked like an invisible bowling ball crushing a struggling spider. But her face…Her face was most affected. Mangled and disfigured, both eyes swollen tight like wontons filled with blood, her classical nose now leaning over to the side, broken and discharging, her motionless lips covered by three peeling strips of silver duct tape. Yes, a horrible face attached to a mutilated body—shaking, jumping, convulsing violently on the bed.
“Oh my God, she’s dying!”
“Get her in the fucking car now!!!”
***
David stood alone on the curb as Wesley’s BMW screeched off in pure daylight. His skinny, shirtless chest shivered in the light, cold wind.
Wesley drove fast on the highway with Sebastian slumped down beside him in the passenger seat. His face was square with determination, his eyes possessed by lack of sleep.
“Okay. Let’s do it,” said Sebastian, defeated.
Wesley pulled his BMW into the hospital emergency room drop off area. He leaned on the car horn as it echoed through the concrete pavilion.
In the lobby, Wesley spoke into a payphone while Sebastian stood by his side listening intently. “No, no, I’m not hurt! Please listen! You don’t understand what’s going on. I just need you to come down here right now.” Wesley’s voice cracked…
“Momma, I’m in big trouble.”
CHAPTER 8
The Awakening
Wednesday, February 6, 1991
9:23 A.M.
“I want you to throw him in jail. I want that boy to pay!”
Ava slowly opened her eyes. Her very first fuzzy image was that of a television located high above in the corner of a hospital room. On the screen, a blonde woman dressed in a green, seventies era Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress was flailing around, screaming at a cop dressed in traditional blues. “I need you to arrest him, officer. Arrest him now!”
With eyes still out of focus, Ava slowly moved her gaze across the hospital room. She was able to make out three separate vases of colorful, but dead flowers on the table beside her. Next to that, she noticed a batch of deflated Mylar balloons puking cheerful sayings like “Get Well Soon” and “Hang In There.” She then looked at the loud tan metal machine she was attached to, making out the numbers 105/75 in neon green letters on the screen, and the clear IV line pumping something important into her veins. But what truly caught her attention was a large yellow object sitting on a chair in the corner. She sharpened her focus and realized it was a yellow, five-foot-tall teddy bear, with perky ears and a huge smile on its face. Its custom made plastic chest read “We Love You, Ava!” in sweet bubble face rainbow letters. There was only one person in the world who would have brought that teddy bear as a gift. And that man was sitting two feet away from her, watching the blonde lady in the sky yelling.
Forty-eight-year-old Nick DeSantis was the kind of New York City tough guy you would never want to owe money to. His thirty years in the gaming industry turned him from an aggressive, unpredictable, mob-affiliated youth, into a reliable, upstanding, tax-paying good guy. Let’s face it. Working under constant camera surveillance can turn anyone into a rule-abiding citizen, but it was the unexpected death of his wife, Bevin McCauley DeSantis, that truly changed Nick at his core.
Nick and Bevin had been childhood sweethearts. The perfect odd couple: a lovely, foul-mouthed Irish girl crazy in love with the volatile, hot-headed Greek guy. They even shared a birthday—September 25th—and married the day they both turned eighteen. Nick and Bevin had always wanted a big family even though it had been a struggle. In fact, they had been together for more than a decade before their precious baby Ava even came along.
For years, Nick was angry with God for taking his soulmate and leaving him to raise his daughter alone. But Bevin’s spirit would visit Nick in his dreams, inspiring him to change his violent ways and become a loving and stable father to Ava. For he too came from a large family and was beyond grateful to have at least one child, spoiling her best he could with Boardwalk toys and stuffed animals, until her small bedroom was overflowing with a sea of fur babies and plastic dolls.
Bevin always knew Nick was a good man at heart. “A good man dealt a bad hand,” she would say to him in his dreams. At her funeral, Nick quietly swore to her spirit that he would never remarry. He promised her that he would always take care of Ava, making sure this cruel world never touched her the way it did his wife. Unfortunately, Nick was not able to keep that promise. Not today. Not ever.
Ava was pleased to see her father sittin
g beside her in a chair, watching a Columbo re-run on the television. Grungy and unshaven, it was obvious he had been wearing the same maroon Members Only jacket and dark Jordache jeans for days.
Nick casually glanced down at Ava to check on her. Suddenly, his weary expression turned into pure joy. “Nurse,” he spoke into the call button. “Nurse! Nurse!!!”
“Yes?”
“My daughter. Her eyes are open!”
“I’ll get the doctor right away.”
“Tell her to haul ass!”
Nick turned and smiled back at Ava. “Hey, Pumpkin, it’s me. Can you hear me in there?”
Ava looked like a Halloween party mummy, wrapped from head to thigh in snow-white gauze bandages. The only body parts peeking through the mummy mask were her large eyes (marbled green and red with blood), and her full, pale lips cracked and chapped from the lack of orally administered liquids for the past eleven days.
“You have no idea how hard I’ve been praying to your mother, kiddo. Thank God she heard me.”
Ava stared at her father with confusion. She knew why she was there. She just couldn’t figure out why there was a dull, aching pain radiating from her stomach.
Doctor Jennifer Morris, a caring, thirty-six-year-old black woman that had obviously graduated from the Oprah Winfrey School of Medicine, entered the room.
“Ava! I’m so glad you finally decided to join us. I was afraid you were going to sleep through the entire party and miss all the fun we’re having.”
Ava tried pointlessly to respond.
“My name is Doctor Morris, but please call me Jennifer. The whole doctor thing makes me feel old.” She showcased a wide, bright smile against her flawless dark skin. “I’ll be your physician here during your stay.”
Ava’s eyes responded politely.
Doctor Morris grabbed a medical chart from the holder at the foot of the bed. Simultaneously, the nurse entered the room and smiled at Ava. “Well, hello there, Miss DeSantis. Good Morning.”
Doctor Morris quickly turned around and spoke in a stern whisper. “Please call Detective Zhao and let him know she’s awake.” The nurse nodded and exited right away.
“Now, Ava, I know that talking is a little tough for you right now, but not to worry, you’ll be gabbing away again very soon. In the meantime, do you think you can write down a few things for me?”
Ava slowly nodded her mummy head: yes
“Wonderful!” Doctor Morris walked over to the nightstand. She picked up a metal clipboard and a black marker, placing it on Ava’s lap. “Now, I want you to take your time writing because it may be a little difficult at first. This is not a test. Spelling doesn’t count. This is just your way to communicate for a little while, okay?”
Ava nodded.
“Great. Now, I know you probably feel sore all over, which is perfectly normal, but is there any specific area of your body that’s causing you serious pain?”
Ava tried to grip the black marker, struggling to hold it between her fingers. Doctor Morris placed her hand over Ava’s to assist her. “That’s it. Take your time.”
Unable to stomach the scene, Nick briefly turned away and looked at the brick wall so Ava wouldn’t see the tears welling in his eyes.
With Doctor Morris’s help, Ava finally gripped the black marker. The first word she wrote down was: HEAD
“Ahh, yes. That’s because you suffered a nasty concussion right here,” Doctor Morris touched the left side of her head. “That is your temporal lobe which controls speech and memory. Explains why you’re having a little trouble talking now, doesn’t it?”
Ava nodded: yes.
“But I promise you, in a few days, your head will start to feel better, okay? Now, do you feel pain anywhere else?”
Ava wrote down: CHEST
Doctor Morris looked at Nick for a brief moment.
“Yes, we took care of that one as soon as you arrived. We had to clean out the infection in both breasts, but we made it all better. Feels really itchy, doesn’t it?”
Ava nodded: yes.
“That’s from the stitches. Luckily, no major arteries were severed so we were able to sew you back up just fine. I’ll take out the stitches in about three more days, but for now, we’ll use an ointment to stop the itching. Okay?”
Ava conveyed a sense of relief through her eyes.
“Is there anything else? Anything causing you serious pain, Ava?”
Ava looked nervously at Doctor Morris, then at her father. Doctor Morris shot Nick a look that said, please excuse us.
“Pumpkin, I’m going to run downstairs and get some coffee. I’ll be back soon.” Nick rose from his plastic chair and left the hospital room.
Doctor Morris’s upbeat tone suddenly became more serious. “Ava, the reason you hurt down there is that you suffered a serious chemical injury to your cervix and part of your uterus. The damage was extensive and you are definitely lucky to be alive. But the good news is that we have already performed the surgery to repair the tissue that—”
Ava quickly scribbled down: BABIES?
Doctor Morris hesitated. Her expression said it all. “Ava, I’m sorry. I did everything I could.”
Her eyes screamed disappointment beyond description.
“Ava, I know this is tough news but there are many alternatives to explore when the day comes that you want to become a mother…”
She turned her head and looked away.
“Ava, you do not have to give birth to a child to be that child’s mother.”
Tears now streamed down her face, wetting the bandages that hid them.
“Just think about how much you loved your mother, Ava. Would you have loved her any less if she didn’t give birth to you?”
She suddenly burst out sobbing behind the bandage mask.
“Ava…I…”
Ava continued to cry, wailing out loud.
Moved by the heart-wrenching sound of muffled tears, Doctor Morris became emotional as well. She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and dabbed Ava’s eyes. She then grabbed another tissue and dabbed away her own tears.
“I’ll get the nurse to change these out for you just as soon as you’re done, so go ahead and let it all out now.”
Ava continued to cry about losing her ability to hold her own baby in her arms. The news hit her so hard that it ripped a hole in her core. For years, having a baby was all she could think about, especially after her own mother passed away. With only three goals in life (graduate from college, become a history teacher and find a wonderful husband to give her at least four bouncing babies) she felt as if the world took away the most important job a woman can list on her resume: mother.
Ava sobbed so loudly that hospital workers in the hallway peeked through the small interior window to see what was creating that pitiful, sad, sad sound.
Doctor Morris gathered herself and continued her speech: “Ava, you have no idea how lucky you are to even be alive. You’ve already made it through the worst part, so don’t give up on me now, girl.” She faked a smile through her own tears.
Ava was instantly comforted by her gentleness.
“Now, tell me, is there anything else causing you pain? Anything we missed? I want you to heal your best and get out of here better than ever.”
Ava shook her head: no.
“Good. That’s great. Now, there’s one last thing I need to ask you…I have a friend that wants to speak with you. Do you think you’re up to meeting him today?”
Ava hesitated, then wrote down: WHO?
“His name is Rudy Zhao. He’s a detective with the sexual assault unit.”
Ava’s hand did not move.
Doctor Morris sat on the edge of the bed. “Ava, two young men found you naked, lying in the road next to your car. They said they didn’t know you well, but they recognized you from school. Do you remember any of this?”
Ava’s eyes filled with fear. She remembered everything.
Doctor Morris drew a deep breath then continued. “When
I asked them if they knew the phone number to Anniston so I could locate your parents, one of the boys told me that your mother was deceased and that your father lived in Atlantic City.”
Ava did not respond.
“Ava, if that young man didn’t know you, how could he have known where your father lived? And why was he so upset when he brought you in? The boy literally dropped to his knees in the waiting room and begged me to save your life.”
Ava looked away, refusing to answer.
“What I haven’t told you yet is that I specialize in treating patients like you. I know something horrible happened that night, but I can’t help you until you tell Detective Zhao all of the details.”
Ava’s eyes begged for mercy. It was too much, too soon.
“All right, we don’t have to talk about it now.” Doctor Morris touched the clipboard and marker. “I’ll let you keep this on your lap so if you feel like writing something down, please do so, okay?”
Ava nodded: yes.
“Now is there absolutely anything else you need before I go for a little while?”
Ava wrote down: H2O
Doctor Morris smiled. “You got it. Just press this call button anytime you need something, okay?” She raised from the bed. “And get some rest. I’ll check on you again shortly.” Doctor Morris affectionately looked at Ava as she exited the hospital room.
The nurse stood outside Ava’s room, watching her through the little window. “How did she take the news?”
“Not very well. Neither did I,” replied Doctor Morris.
“What a shame. She’s so young.”
“Oh, and before I forget, she asked for some water.”
The nurse nodded, then turned to walk.
“Also, please call Detective Zhao and tell him to forget about coming down today.” She looked at Ava through the window. “This one’s not going to talk for a long time.”
CHAPTER 9
The Devil Went Down To Georgia
Wednesday, February 6, 1991
11:03 A.M.
Ava picked up the clipboard from her lap. She flipped it around and looked at her distorted mummy reflection in the metal mirror. Just then, Nick re-entered the room.