Escape From Purgatory

by Scarlet Darkwood - BooksGoSocial Historical Fiction

  “I know. I just never thought I’d see myself in this situation. Life was supposed to be simple and good. That’s all I ever asked for.”

  All three sat in silence while a war raged in Claire’s head. Just the sound of the word “divorce” grated on her. Never would she have ever guessed her life would come to this. Being a widow would be better. At least that was respectable. People understood it, treated you with sympathy and respect. You could even marry again without someone batting an eye. But divorce? Society looked down on that. She’d be “used goods,” a sullied woman.

  Maybe George didn’t care. Still, he’d never clearly discussed a future with him. In an instant, a keen sense of lost youth and her current lot in life engulfed her, shrouding her with a sense of time slipping away so fast it seemed life was passing her by before she could grab the reigns and stop it. She didn’t feel like a fresh young woman anymore.

  Now an underlying sadness lingered most days than not. The future wore a hazy veil. Life carried far too much mystery and uncertainty for her liking, and all she wanted was the comfort of house and family again, someone she could trust, and children she could love and nurture. This wish still seemed elusive at best, all but lost at the worst.

  “Miss Claire,” said a small voice beside her. “Do you want to stay with us until you feel better? I can take care of you.” Anna had slipped into the room and snuggled up to Claire.

  “Darling, thank you. I think I should be all right here. That bad old man is gone.” Claire took Anna in her arm and pulled her close, kissing her on top of the head.

  “But what if he comes back? I won’t be here to scare him off.” Anna peered up, tears welling in her eyes. Her small pink lips trembled.

  Claire suppressed a smile. “Maybe you can spend the night over here.” She glanced at George.

  “Honey,” George said to his daughter, “I’ll have to think about what we need to do for Miss Claire. We haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

  “You don’t need to think far ahead. She can stay with us.” Anna backed away, her face contorted with a certain irritation that Claire hadn’t seen before. The little girl’s clenched fists alarmed her most. Something about this exchange didn’t feel right.

  “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Claire tried one more attempt at supporting George’s statement while soothing Anna. “We’ll figure out something. Don’t worry.” This time, she reached toward the girl, wanting to pull her close again.

  Anna stepped back a few more steps. Her breath came in rapid successions, and her eyes had changed from concern to almost wild with pent up rage. “No!” she screamed, stomping her foot. “I want you to stay with me!”

  “Anna.” George’s voice rang out with disapproval. “Don’t ever talk back. What’s gotten into you?” He stood up, face clouded with anger.

  “I want Miss Claire to stay with me forever!” Anna stomped one foot, then the other. “I want my mother!”

  Claire winced as the little girl’s shrill voice pierced her ear.

  George moved in his daughter’s direction, fists clenched. Tears had fallen over Anna’s cheeks. Without another word, she let out a wail and bolted for the front door.

  The adults remained rooted in place, stunned. When the front door opened and the sound of Anna’s footsteps echoed on the porch, Mitchell spoke, “Go after her.” He sped toward the living room window. “George, she’s headed toward the road.”

  Claire jumped up from her chair, nearly fainting. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and moved as fast as she could, calling out Anna’s name. George brushed by her, tearing through the room and on toward the yard. His voice sounded loud and urgent in the distance. Claire made it to the front porch, Mitchell behind her. She saw George at the road’s edge.

  Out of nowhere, it seemed, came the grinding sound of a car. At the same time, a honking horn, a shrill scream, and the screech of brakes. It was the slamming of car doors and the frantic talking of multiple voices that nearly did it for Claire. Mitchell grabbed hold of her arm, pausing a moment.

  “Claire, are you okay?” His face had grown ashen.

  Before she knew it, she could hardly breath. Tears streamed out, but she managed enough energy to keep walking. “I-I think something bad has happened, Mitchell,” she said between sobs.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  To her horror, Claire saw a man and woman, along with George, kneeling by a small, limp body. The woman, who was much older, spoke in a tearful voice as she stroked Anna’s ashen face. Claire pushed George and the woman gently away, dropping by Anna’s side. Placing her ear on the little girl’s chest, she detected the faintest sounds of a heartbeat. In Anna’s hair, spots of blood had matted some of the blonde locks together. Claire fingered through the strands until she discovered the small gash that had been the source of the blood. The wound was turning into a thickened ooze. She inspected as much as she could, satisfied there was no further damage. The top left side of Anna’s temple bore another nasty scrape, with bruising around a larger part of that area. Anna didn’t move. The chilly November air whipped around them.

  As Claire cradled the girl, her own head throbbed full force now. A fullness settled in her chest. Supporting Anna’s head and upper body, she drew her close for warmth and security.

  “Anna, darling, can you hear me?” Claire gave up on stifling tears and putting on a brave front. She rocked gently back and forth rubbing the little girl’s back.

  Mitchell said, “I’ll call an ambulance.” He ran full speed back to the house.

  “She came out of nowhere,” the driver said. “I tried to stop, but it was too late.”

  The woman had now started crying. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Is she yours?”

  “No,” Claire answered, glancing up at the woman.

  Claire turned her lips toward Anna’s cheek and kissed her. She kissed her forehead, her lips, her neck. “Please tell me you’re all right, sweetheart.” Unable to contain her emotions, Claire broke into another round of sobbing. She could hear the woman sniffling above her, and the man exchanging words with George.

  “No,” the man said, “we’re actually visiting. You know the Palmers?”

  “I do,” said George.

  “We just left there. Heading home. I keep to my business when it comes to driving, but she just shot out from the bushes. I couldn’t stop in time.” His face showed hard lines of age, and he also showed extreme distress. He leaned against his car and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his forehead and his eyes. His lower lip trembled.

  “They’re on their way.” Mitchell had returned, and he placed a large blanket around Claire and Anna. “Is she all right?”

  “I think so.” She looked up at her brother-in-law through tears. “I really don’t know.”

  “Here, let me check.” Mitchell knelt next to Claire. He placed an ear on Anna’s chest and nodded. A light reassuring smile covered his face. “I hear her heart. The car simply may have knocked her out. Does anything seem broken?”

  George moved into place and tenderly examined his little girl’s legs. “I’m not seeing anything but some skinned areas. Maybe a little bruising around the ankles. She could have twisted them when she fell.” Claire unzipped the back of Anna’s dress, and noted large bruised areas. The sight of it sent her into another round of tears.

  “She okay?” George asked, alarmed.

  “I don’t know. Looks like there’s some more injury on her back. Can’t check her out much more.” Claire pulled Anna closer, rubbing her back, and trying to keep her warm. She whispered in the little girl’s ear, “I love you, little munchkin. Please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you too.”

  This incident was too much for her soul to bear. Even the worst moments at Hatchie River didn’t compare to this. The loss of her own children, yes. But to witness possibly losing another one—she couldn’t take anymore. It didn’t matter that Anna wasn’t her flesh and blood. They had bonded the moment they first met when Anna played j
acks on the front porch. She buried her face in Anna’s neck and cried until the ambulance crew arrived and pulled her away.

  Claire watched as two men placed Anna on a stretcher. She seems so tiny, like the orange blanket they brought might swallow her up forever. If she was aware of anything at all, was she scared and unable to say so? Claire clapped a hand over her mouth to steady her nerves and keep from crying.

  “Where do you want us to take her?” asked the driver.

  “St. Mary’s,” George said.

  “Did you need us to come with you to the hospital?” The driver of the car stood by George. The older woman had come up to Claire and had wrapped an arm around her for comfort.

  “Tell you what. You two go on home. If I need you, I’ll contact Mr. Palmer. Honestly, there’s really nothing else to do.”

  The man nodded, his face still twisted with emotion. He motioned for his wife and the two drove off.

  “I mean, what else could they do?” George looked from Mitchell to Claire.

  “It was a horrible accident. There is nothing to do.” Claire shivered, placing the palm on her forehead, hoping to lessen the pain. “The important thing is that Anna is alive.”

  “Let’s go. I want to be there with Anna.”

  ***

  The antiseptic hospital smell overwhelmed her the moment she stepped inside St. Mary’s. A plump lady at the front desk pointed the direction to the children’s wing, and the three adults headed off. Mitchell had remained silent during the drive. George had not let go of Claire’s hand, and now he’d wrapped his arm around her. When they landed on the designated floor, nurses in neat, snow-white uniforms and starched caps moved about, doing their duties, hardly acknowledging the arrival of George Parker and his two friends.

  Following the signs, George led the way to the nurse’s station. A young nurse smiled as they walked up.

  “Excuse me,” said George, “but I think my daughter is supposed to be on this floor.”

  “What’s your child’s name?” The nurse leafed through a register book.

  “Anna Parker. She came by ambulance. Hit by a car.”

  “Oh, goodness.” The nurse winced and stopped moving her pen over the list of names. “Came by ambulance?” She reached for another book and turned the pages until she came to the last one with a list of names. “She’s still in the emergency room. When they clear her, they’ll bring her here.” The nurse stepped out from behind the desk. “You can wait in her room. Right this way, please.”

  “You already have a room for her?” George had slipped his arm around Claire again.

  “A bed just came open, so we saved it. We keep our lists updated for potential new patients.” The nurse briefly smiled at Claire and George.

  Midway down a long hall, the nurse finally stopped at an open room. This is where your daughter will be. We’ll keep you informed of any information we receive, but I’m hoping she’ll be released to come up here soon. I know you and your wife are so worried.” The nurse turned in George and Claire’s direction.

  Claire startled at the words “your wife,” and she didn’t fail to catch the quick, wide-eyed look Mitchell cast in her direction. George didn’t correct the lady, but merely nodded and ushered Claire into a vacant chair.

  Mitchell glanced around the room. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head back to the lobby and wait there. I’ll check back up here in about an hour or so.”

  George, expressionless, merely nodded and waved as Mitchell left. He sat on the bed, staring at the opposite wall. Claire’s heart sank even more as she watched the man she saw as so strong and brave lift his hands to his eyes. When he heaved with the first tears, she nearly thought she’d lose her mind.

  “She’s everything to me, all I have left,” he said, the muffled words coming out in a jumble. “If something happens to her, I don’t know what I’ll do.” He shook his head, trying hard to stifle the sobs.

  “Maybe everything will be okay after all, George. What if it just looked worse than what it really is?”

  “She looked so small, fragile. Just looking at her reminded me of a broken doll.”

  “I’d like to think she’s much stronger than that. She’s a tough, determined little thing.”

  “I can’t lose her, too, Claire,” he said, peering through tearful eyes. “I just can’t.” He buried his face in his hands once more.

  Unable to remain in the chair, Claire got up and sat on the bed next to George. She didn’t say anything, but let a frightened man have his cry. After all, he had good reason to be scared. Heartbreak, tears, and fear weren’t emotions only felt by women. Men felt it all too. They felt it deeply, their heart and soul equally wounded by life’s transgressions. Each brush with loss or the possible near miss with it only made joy and triumph sweeter, no matter how small or large.

  Claire wrapped her arms around George. This time she became the wall of security he’d always been for her. It was that way between people who loved and cared for each other. She knew love and caring surrounded her and George, each one reciprocating these actions with ease. No thinking. Just doing. Their relationship had been born out of necessity, but so far, it endured with constancy, a dance of give and take. If it endured further, there would be wins and losses. She could only hope that this instance with Anna would end with a win. It had to. She’d heard it in the heartbeat of the little girl she’d come to love as if she were her own.

  Two hours later, the sound of rolling wheels filtered down the hallway. A young man filled the doorway, pushing a stretcher holding Anna. George and Claire got up, and Claire turned the covers down. George offered support, assisting the orderly in placing Anna in the bed. The little girl’s face still retained a pallid shade even after the transport from home to this room.

  “Can you tell us anything about what they found? Is she going to be all right?” George asked the orderly.

  “The doctor will be in soon. He’ll be able to tell you everything. She’s up here now, so that’s a good sign.” The young man smiled. “If you need anything, here is the call button.” He showed Claire and George a small box with a button on it. “Do you need any extra pillows or blankets?”

  Claire had already fluffed Anna’s pillow and pulled up the covers. “No, I think we should be fine right now. Thank you, though.”

  The orderly smiled again, and with a light nod, turned and left the room. Claire busied herself again, examining the bandages around Anna, lightly lifting some of the edges for a better look.

  “She should be better and able to leave in a few days,” said a voice in the doorway.

  George and Claire both turned and viewed an older male wearing a lab coat and holding a chart.

  “You must be the doctor,” George stepped forward, holding out his hand. “I’m George Parker.”

  “I’m Dr. Grayson. I’ll be the one directing your daughter’s care. I’m sure you’re wanting to know what we found.”

  “Yes, we are,” Claire stated.

  “As you can guess, she’s bruised up, especially on the upper part of her body. On her back were several scratches. Her ankles were strained, with the right one being worse. We found a small hairline fracture there. Any more stress to the area, and it would have broken. Her head has a nasty little gash. We shaved the area so we could clean everything and put some antibiotic ointment on it. Also had to add a few stitches. She also suffered a broken rib. We’ve got her in a splint. Not much else we can do for that. When she complains of pain, just tell the nurse. We’ve ordered some medication for her.” The doctor shook his head. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. She could have been killed. She’ll be sore for a while.”

  “Has she said anything or moved at all?” George asked.

  “They said during the ambulance ride, she moved a little and responded.” Dr. Grayson replied. “She cried when we had to clean her up in the ER, but we managed to calm her down enough. I think the whole ordeal has shocked her as much as anything. We didn’t see any other obvi
ous head injury, and everything else checked out. But time will tell. Just watch for any nausea, vomiting, any other behavioral changes. Hopefully she’ll talk more in a little while. We’ll be keeping an eye on her.”

  Both George and Claire nodded.

  “Very good. You two have a nice day, and I’ll check on her tomorrow.” Dr. Grayson left the room.

  A small rustling sound came from the bed. Claire turned around. Anna had both eyes slightly open as she fidgeted with the covers. Her face wore a frown. George sped to her side, gently kissing her forehead.

  “Sweetheart, you’re awake. You feeling better?” His voice came out in soft tones, soothing.

  Anna blinked a few times as tears welled up in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, honey? Do you need something to help you feel better?”

  She shook her head. Claire went over and placed her hand over Anna’s. “You’re okay, darling. Do you know where you are?”

  The only answer, a few more blinks and a whimper.

  Claire answered for her. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe, and you’re going to be okay.”

  “You won’t leave?” Anna’s voice wavered. The boldness she usually possessed had disappeared, and under the covers she seemed more small and fragile. A hint of color had seeped its way into her skin, making her look a little more alive than before. Claire had decided she’d never forget the lifeless look of Anna’s body, just like she’d never forget her baby boy’s. She’d surely have nightmares long after this incident.

  George spoke up softly, “You’re really worried about that, aren’t you? Do you love Miss Claire that much?”

  The little girl’s lips curled up into a sweet smile. “I love her this much.” She lifted her hands from under the covers in an attempt to stretch them wide apart. Her mouth opened in pain.

  “That’s okay, Anna. We know exactly what you mean.” George placed his hands on his daughter’s arms and helped situate them in a more comfortable position.