by Sarah Noffke
“I’m trying to,” he said.
He studied her, as she studied him.
“Finley, don’t be mad about this. Don’t be mad about anything, all right?” Zuma said.
“Oh, so you all of a sudden don’t like it when I’m mad at you? Things are really changing.”
“Finley…”
“So does that mean you forgive me?” he said, pinning her firmer to the wall with his body. She smiled up close to his face, her eyes on his mouth.
“No, not yet. But you haven’t granted me much time in your head as we agreed upon, as part of our terms of agreement of me trying to forgive you,” she said.
“We’ve kind of been busy,” he said, his breath warm on her.
“True,” she said.
“Okay, well fine. But with all this acting just don’t kiss Jack, would you? Or you’re going to find out what I think loud and clear,” Finley said through gritted teeth.
“I promise,” she said and slid her fingers into his belt loops, encouraging him closer. Finley smiled, leaning in to kiss her when he was suddenly shoved back by the same hand that had pulled him in. Zuma stood straight and faced the figure approaching in the distance. Jack’s father strolled down the hallway, his eyes on his shiny watch.
He looked up when he was closer. “It’s the doctor,” he said, his tone clipped. “He wants a word. I thought Jack’s fiancée would want to be there.”
“Absolutely,” Zuma said, trying to breathe past the warmth in her body.
Jack Sr. turned at once and headed back in the opposite direction. Zuma took off, following Mr. Fuller but turned around to Finley.
“Fiancée,” he mouthed.
She shrugged, her face not at all sympathetic.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Finley tried to leave the room once he accompanied Zuma back there but Jack insisted he stayed.
“It’s no big deal. Just some medical talk,” he said, holding out a hand for Zuma. She took it at once and then Finley realized exactly why Jack wanted him to stay. He was going to take this opportunity to tease Finley. Jack shot him a sly smile when he pulled Zuma down next to him on the bed and began caressing her arms.
From across the room Finley rolled his eyes, but in truth he was suppressing a laugh. The morphine was definitely making the acrobat a bit more playful. He had to give Jack props that it was a pretty clever game. Excruciating for Finley, but clever nonetheless.
“I actually have important information,” Dr. Chang said, pulling up Jack’s chart so it was closer to his face.
“Just tell me when my fiancée and I can start making babies,” Jack said and tugged Zuma in closer. She shot him a look and also a series of snide remarks and warnings inside his head. He smiled at this.
“I’m sure your parents will agree that those types of things should wait until after you’re married,” Finley said, an edge to his voice.
“Don’t be so uptight. And don’t worry, you’ll be Uncle Fin,” Jack said, winking at his friend.
“Just what I’ve always wanted,” Finley said, his tone dry.
“I think the only concern your parents have right now is when will this meeting start,” his mother said, looking at her phone and then to the doctor.
Dr. Chang cleared his throat and focused his gaze downward on the patient lying in the bed next to him. “Right, well, due to the extensive damage to your legs, Jack, and the extra complications to your back, I fear the road to recovery will be an arduous one for you. I want to set clear expectations. You’re going to require an incredible amount of physical therapy, and even after all that I’m uncertain what the long-term outcome will be. It’s hard to say at this stage.”
Jack squinted at the doctor. The smile that had been on his face was now a look of confusion. “Outcome?” he stuttered out, his mind having gripped onto that one word.
The doctor nodded his head. Pressed both his hands together in front of his face and touched them to his lips before pulling them back. “Jack, the bones of the legs are difficult to heal, especially when broken in multiple places as yours were. And the way they mend, and how well they do, really dictates the outcome for the patient.”
“What exactly are you saying, Dr. Chang?” Mrs. Fuller said, her voice sharp, bordering aggressive.
“He’s saying Jack isn’t going to walk again,” Keith said, his eyes on his mother, his tone clinical.
Jack’s expression froze into one of heart-wrenching shock. His mouth fell open and Zuma knew from watching that momentarily he was holding his breath. His hands went slack on her. His pulse slowed. Zuma knew all of this. And from being in his thoughts she also knew that Jack’s vision went gray and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick all over his frozen legs. Finally, feeling Zuma press her fingers into his hand, he awoke from his daze. Three minutes had passed and Jack hadn’t heard any of the words exchanged over that time. His mother’s exclamation. His father’s sigh of shock. His brother and Dr. Chang discussing Jack’s condition. It had all passed over his ears, because all he could give focus to was the word slamming around in his head.
Paralyzed. Paralyzed. Jack was paralyzed.
“You knew,” he sputtered out finally, his eyes unfocused but in his brother’s direction. “Keith, you knew since you looked at my chart, didn’t you?”
“I guessed,” his brother said, his tone conceited.
“And you didn’t think you should be the one to tell me? You’re my brother,” Jack said, his nostrils flaring and his focus firmly on his brother now.
“It doesn’t matter who told you this news.” Keith waved his hand through the air dismissively. “It’s the same diagnosis no matter what. You might be able to feel your legs, but you won’t be able to use them to walk. You’re paralyzed,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact.
“Are you quite certain?” his mother asked.
Keith gave a heavy sigh. “Yes, Mom. His legs are broken in over eighteen places and his spine fractured. It’s unlikely under the most ideal scenario that Jack’s legs will mend in all places to grant him the proper structure necessary to bear his weight for the act of walking. Standing sure, but walking is unlikely.”
Dr. Chang coughed, his eyes on Dr. Fuller. This simple gesture quieted the room. “Although I do appreciate your clinical expertise, if you wouldn’t mind, Jack is my patient.”
“Yes, please continue,” Dr. Fuller said, waving his hand to turn the stage back over to his colleague.
“I think,” the doctor said, turning his attention to Jack, “that although your brother’s medical opinion is accurate it is also a bit pessimistic. Studies have shown that having a positive perspective can have an impact on a patient’s recovery rate.”
“And studies have also shown that false expectations can create depression over time,” Dr. Fuller said, his eyes on the ceiling, his fingers threaded behind his back.
Dr. Chang cut his eyes at Keith before returning them to Jack. “What’s important to remember is that recovery will take work on your part. However, physical therapy is a ways off. Now you mend. Then we determine a therapy plan. We will see how things progress. No, you might never walk again, but with time you might recapture some mobility in your legs and I think we will all agree that that’s better than nothing.” The doctor then pulled his gaze up to Zuma, who was standing beside Jack’s bed. Her hand was on his shoulder, every ounce of her trying to lend him support.
“I must disagree. And I’m not only your brother but also a doctor with superior education than Dr. Chang,” Keith said and then lifted his chin at the other doctor. “No offense, but I’m clearly stating a fact.”
The expression on Dr. Chang’s face looked exactly like one marked with offense, but he merely sucked in his thin bottom lip and stayed silent.
Keith turned his attention to his mother. “My opinion is that therapy needs to be at the top of our list. I can recommend the best institution in the city. It even offers an assisted living program where Jack can receive care for
things he won’t be able to do for himself. It’s incredibly expensive but they’ll take—”
“Jack won’t be moved to a nursing home,” Zuma said, her voice quiet but her tone on fire.
“He’s going to need around the clock care. Physical therapy multiple times a day. It’s really the best option for him,” Keith said.
“I will do it. I’ll take care of him,” Zuma said.
Jack whipped his head up to look at her. Her face was etched with determination.
“Zuma, an engagement is one thing, but you don’t have to burden yourself here. We will pay for Jack to move into this institution,” Mrs. Fuller said, her voice cold like Keith’s.
Dr. Chang switched his gaze, shifting between the two opposing parties. His focus was now on Zuma, awaiting her reply.
Finley was also staring at the girl, the one he loved, but he knew what she’d say and it made him proud.
Zuma squeezed Jack’s shoulder once before stepping away from him and toward his mother. “Jack and I don’t have to be engaged for me to make this decision. He will be cared for by his family. The one at Vagabond Circus because to us he is no burden. He is a gift.”
She turned to Jack. “Is that all right with you? Because whether you can walk or not, whether you need around the clock care and therapy, I know people who would be happy to provide that for you. They’d be honored to be a part of your recovery.”
Jack pressed his lips together, lines forming on them as he did. His eyes watered as he nodded, a sweet conviction in the combination of movements.
Zuma graced him with a heartfelt smile, as she sent him a telepathic message. I love you, Jack. You’re not alone in this.
He nodded again. Thank you, he said back over the link.
Zuma then turned to Dr. Chang. “As Jack’s doctor,” she said, the implication heavy on the words, “would you please authorize him to be discharged as soon as possible? I can guarantee he’ll be given incredible care.”
He shook his black and silver head of hair. “Jack just had a major surgery. And—”
“But once moved, he’ll be under the care of Nurse Fanny Swedlund,” Zuma said.
Dr. Chang held up his hand to stop Zuma, but then paused. Straightened. “Wait, did you just say Nurse Fanny? As in the one known for—”
“For the numerous cases of miraculous healing. Yes,” Zuma said, grateful this doctor was familiar with the nurse’s work. Twenty years ago she had been a legend in Los Angeles, but she’d disappeared, saying she was retiring early. The truth was she was overworked and drained by her responsibilities. There were always more victims to heal and then problems arose when she started to fail. When the first few patients died from ailments she had healed easily in the past, the nurse went into a depression. She couldn’t heal everyone and the act of trying to was killing her. That was just before she went into retirement, but what few knew was Dr. Dave Raydon had saved her. He’d found her and offered the woman a job caring for only a few patients, where she wouldn’t be overwhelmed by cases. And he also offered an opportunity to have the one thing she always wanted and could never have: children. Fanny was born a strong Dream Traveler, with the ability to heal, but she had a body which was unfit to carry a child. And ironically the healer couldn’t fix herself. She didn’t take long to think over the ringmaster’s offer. She knew that God worked through holy interventions and that was one of them for her. Fanny accepted and had spent the last twenty years happy and fulfilled and successful at Vagabond Circus.
“I can’t believe it,” Dr. Chang said, shaking his head. “You know Fanny Swedlund?”
“She’s like a mother to us,” Zuma said, and she found too much delight in the squeal that popped out of Mrs. Fuller’s mouth.
Dr. Chang scratched his chin, his eyes off in thought. “Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Nurse Fanny doesn’t have any documented proof of healing bones, but if anyone could… Well, I think it’s safe to say she’s more than qualified to care for Jack. Actually I dare say that with skills like hers and a reputation like hers, Jack would be in the best possible hands. And—”
“Dr. Chang,” Keith said, cutting him off, “you can’t seriously be considering releasing Jack.”
“Are you aware of the things Nurse Fanny has done?” Dr. Chang asked his colleague.
“Well, yes. But she’s only a nurse,” Dr. Fuller said.
“She’s a nurse with a much better success rate than any doctor I know,” Dr. Chang said.
Keith didn’t reply, but instead crossed his arms and rolled his eyes like a punished child would.
“And although I’m happy to release Jack to Fanny, I’m unsure of why we need to rush it,” Dr. Chang said to Zuma.
“Because I don’t want to be here any longer,” Jack answered, bringing everyone’s attention on him. “I need to be back with my circus family where I can have peace.”
Dr. Chang nodded. “I understand. I really do, but—”
“Please, Doctor,” Zuma said.
“Very well,” he said after a moment of deliberation. “If he’ll be transported straight to Nurse Fanny’s care then I’ll release him as soon as it’s safe, with certain travel stipulations.”
Zuma nodded proudly. “Fantastic.”
“James,” Dr. Fuller said, stepping forward as Zuma backed away to Jack’s side, putting her hand in his. “I really must interject my opinion on this. Your decision to release Ja—”
“It is his decision,” Jack said, his voice at first cracking in his throat. He coughed past the stress and said, “And this is mine and Zuma’s decision. I don’t need your clinical opinion any further.”
His brother shook his head, a look of disapproval on his face. “Jack, you’re not thinking—”
“Please don’t burden yourself with this any further. You can go. All of you,” Jack said, a new authority in his voice. “Why don’t you take Father to a place where he can watch the game in peace?”
His father then jerked his gaze to Jack. “What? Oh no, I wasn’t watching th—”
“I think Jack needs his rest,” Dr. Chang said, reading the cues and shuffling the three unwanted family members to the exit.
“Son,” his mother said, stopping at the door, “I’m very disappointed in the decisions you’ve made here.”
“Disappointed? What’s new?!” Jack almost shouted, his face red. Zuma gripped his hand firmer and tried to ease him back.
Mrs. Fuller straightened, looking to try and bolster herself against the attack, but Zuma saw the break in the woman’s confidence. “This behavior is completely ungrateful based on what your family is willing to do for you, Jack.”
“Mrs. Fuller,” and it was Finley who stepped out from his place by the wall to say this. He pulled the door back open, encouraging the way to exit. “Expecting Jack to be grateful that you’re willing to pay to pawn him off isn’t only ridiculous, it is also—”
“It is exactly the type of disappointing behavior I expect from my heartless mother,” Jack cut in. His eyes were smoldering, set on the woman regarding him with contempt in the doorway.
Mrs. Fuller first looked at Finley and next at her son. She then took a sharp pivot and stomped out of the room.
Jack directed his eyes on Finley, who was holding the door open still. “Thanks, man,” he said, his hands pressed down firmly into the bed.
“Not a problem,” Finley said. “I’ll be outside if you two need anything.” He gave Zuma and then Jack an empathetic expression and left, knowing much grieving would need to take place in that room.
Chapter Sixty-Six
It was only once the door was shut and only Zuma occupied his room that Jack broke down completely. For the better part of an hour Jack didn’t say a word. Instead he went through quiet moments of chest-shaking sobs and then face-reddening cries which could be heard down the hallway. Zuma sat frozen on his bed. She held him when that made sense and then allowed him to throw himself back on his pillows when that was what he wanted. She
didn’t say a word. She didn’t try to tell him everything would be all right. Zuma would never lie to her friend, even to make him feel better. After an hour, the only thing she said was the one thing she knew to be true.
“I’m here for you, Jack. I’m not leaving you,” she said over and over again.
After the tears had retreated and the hyperventilated breathing dissipated, Jack brought his brown eyes bathed in a sea of red up to meet hers. “I’m an acrobat who can’t walk,” he said, his voice a haunted whisper that sent chills down Zuma’s back.
“Don’t think about that now, Jack. This is just for now. The future won’t always be like this,” she said, holding both his hands in hers.
He nodded roughly. “But what am I going to do if this is my future and my legs never work? Some mobility won’t do it for me, Zuma. I’m an acrobat. I need to move. To flip. To twirl,” he said, the panic creeping back into his voice.
“Jack…,” she said and paused. Zuma was at a loss. She didn’t know what she’d do if she could never perform on the trapeze again. The idea made her want to give up. To quit life. To just lie down and die.
Jack, sensing Zuma’s grief over his predicament, erupted again into the worst fit of tears yet, a scream barreled out of him that made the windows shake.
Zuma grabbed both his arms and pressed her hands into them expending a force she’d never used when touching Jack. She knew she had to get his attention. To put his outburst to a halt. “Stop it. Stop it, Jack,” she said, looking straight into his crazed eyes.
Just then a nurse rushed into the room but Zuma didn’t release Jack, and he stayed focused on her intense gaze.
“Don’t you do this, Jack. Don’t you lose hope. Fanny is going to fix you. Do you hear me?” she said, her words strong and full of conviction.
He nodded and then pulled her into him, hugging her with a fervent need.
Chapter Sixty-Seven