by Lois Winston
I thought I heard my mother’s voice intermingled with other, strange voices. I wanted to yell out I was hiding under the rock, but my mouth wouldn’t move. I thought it would be my father who found me, but it was Mom. I couldn’t remember exactly when that was.
Was that then, or is that now?
I wanted to reassure Mom I was all right, just a little cold, but I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t open my eyes. I tried to squeeze her hand when it grasped mine but felt myself slipping away. I was sliding into some sort of darkness that was easy to go to, but wherever it was, I didn’t want to be there.
THIRTEEN
A Ministering Angel
It was just light enough to focus on the blinds at the other end of the room. I squinted and tried to move, but my head throbbed when I did. I put a cautious hand up to the source of the pain and felt fabric instead of hair.
Why am I wearing a hat? Where am I
Slowly I moved my eyes, daring not to shift my head, and saw I was in some sort of bedroom.
No, not a bedroom.
There were instruments around, and my arm was hooked up to something.
Is this a hospital room? But when we left Yosemite, they took me straight home. Didn’t they?
No, no. I’m confused again.
My mind cleared a little, and I forced myself to remember. I recalled the pier and the flash of light and the sound of breaking glass. That forced remembrance cost me a lot. I sighed deeply and closed my eyes.
My head ached still, but it was more bearable than before. I touched my head again with guarded fingers and found the cloth was really a bandage.
After about five minutes of lying perfectly still, I moved my head to the right and saw a chair and two doors. I turned it to the left and saw my mother slumped in a chair, eyes closed, head lolled to the side breathing evenly. She was covered with a cotton blanket. I was so stunned to see my mother sitting there that I called out to her.
“Mom!” My voice sounded hoarse, but was deafening compared to the utter silence.
Lila jerked her head upright, looked at me and ran to my bedside. “Oh, thank God,” She cried.
“Where am I? What happened?” I struggled to form the words. My mouth had never felt so dry. “Water. Can I have some water?”
“You’re going to be fine, just fine.”
Mom reached by the bedside and poured water from a pitcher into a cup. She inserted a straw into it, talking all the while, her voice shaking almost as much as her hands.
“The doctors said if you woke up within seventy-two hours, it meant you would be just fine.” She smiled at me.
“Doctors? What happened? Oh, my head.” It was difficult to talk. I closed my eyes and tried to stay very still.
“Is this a hospital? How did I get here? How badly am I...?”
“I’ve got to ring some people, and let them know,” Lila interrupted me, as she pressed the call button by my right side.
“They told me it could be up to seventy-two hours before we knew, and here it is, just a little more than twenty-four. This is wonderful news, my darling.” She kissed me very gently on the forehead.
“I know this is serious if you’re calling me your darling and kissing my forehead, Mom. You haven’t done that since I fell off the horse at camp and broke my leg,” I managed to say.
I tried to move my legs and arms one at a time to see if they still worked. They did, but the effort cost me. My head was starting to pound.
The door to the room swung open and a nurse entered. She was a small, thin woman, originally from Pakistan I was to find out later, and spoke with a soft accent. “I see our little patient has awakened. This is excellent.” She looked at an incongruously large, silver watch on her minuscule wrist.
“Five forty-five a.m. The doctor will be in around eight o’clock, and he will be pleased to know this.” She crossed over to the bed and looked at the I.V. and other indicators of my health.
“Look at this; her pulse and temperature are almost normal. I am so relieved.” She smiled at me and turned to my mother. She crossed her arms in front of her bird-like chest and scowled.
“And you, my friend, must go home now,” she said. Lila began to protest, and the nurse, used to strong personalities, spoke over the protestations.
“Or, at the very least, you must go to the visitors’ room down the hall and lie down on the sofa. You have been up too many hours. You will get sick.” She shook a slender finger in Mom’s face. “You will be of no use to anyone if you become ill yourself.”
Lila smiled and looked at me. “I’m not tired. My daughter needs me. You want me to stay, Liana, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t, Mom,” I contradicted her, closing my eyes. “I want you to go get some sleep. How long have you been sitting here, anyway?” My head throbbed, but I forced my eyes opened and looked at my mother with concern.
“Too long,” answered the nurse before Lila could speak. “Now, you both must rest.”
She forcefully escorted Mom to the door. “You know where the visitors’ rest center is. Your family has been there most of the time.”
“Yes, but first I must call Richard and tell Mateo.” Lila furrowed her brow and began to fret as the nurse pushed her out the door. “Richard will want to...”
“Do not call your son yet,” the nurse’s firm voice overrode Lila’s, much to my surprise. “He needs his sleep, too. There is time enough in the morning. His friend, Victoria, telephoned about an hour ago and told me to tell you he had finally fallen asleep. Your brother-in-law? He is waiting for you in the visitors’ lounge. He is a light sleeper. He will wake when you go in, and you can tell him all is well, Mrs. Alvarez. Now please rest. Everything is taken care of. We are all starting to worry about you. Go get some rest!” she scolded, as she shut the door in Lila’s face.
The ministering angel, who had just delightfully humbled the mighty, paused and hurried back to me. She fixed the bed linens and looked at me fondly. The woman was a born caregiver.
“You are doing much better than we thought. This is good. Now go to sleep.”
“But I,” I protested weakly, finding my mind starting to wander. Bizarre thoughts flitted in and out, such as the colors of scented day lilies, Wayne Newton’s best song, and Chelsea Clinton’s marital status. My eyes opened suddenly. “Tugger. Has anybody been feeding Tugger?”
The nurse bent over and said into my right ear, “If Tugger is your cat then we know your uncle has been taking care of him whenever he has not been with you in the hospital.”
“But...but...” I said groggily hardly able to form the words. “How much weight has he gained? Is he growing into his ears?”
“Shhh. Time for questions in the morning.” The answer came just as I fell into a deep sleep.
FOURTEEN
Alice At The Tea Party
I felt myself jerk awake with an abruptness that startled me, but I wasn’t half as startled as the three anxious faces leaning in, studying my every move.
Lila let out a gasp, Tío said something like “ay carrumba,” and Richard dropped his can of soda, which after hitting the floor with a “clunk,” made hissing noises, carbonated soda spilling out under the bed.
Then all three of them started talking at once. Finally, I waved my arms in the air, hoping they would shut up. They did and stared at me, grinning. I opened my mouth and tried to form words, but I was a little the worse for wear. Nothing much came out, save a dry, reedy gurgling sound.
“Shhhh!” Tío said to my mother and brother. “Liana is trying to speak, but her voice is soft. Let us listen well.”
They all leaned in, and I felt a little like a heroine in the third act of a bad melodrama. The part right after the villain was caught but before she went to spa for a makeover.
Mom thrust a glass of water with a straw in it into my hand. I slurped noisily, as my family hugged and kissed me, careful to avoid the area around the top of my head and the water glass.
It was nice, the
water and the attention. I felt amazingly well, considering the fact I knew something serious had happened to me. Besides, hugging and kissing always makes one feel better. It’s a scientific fact.
When I finally felt sufficiently lubricated for speech, I asked, “What time is it?”
Tío looked from my mother to Richard. “This is the first question? ‘What time is it?’ What kind of a question is that, mi sobrina? Not what happened? Not how am I? Not am I going to be all right?”
“Of course, she’s going to be all right,” Mom interjected and turned to me. “This has been very trying on your uncle, on all of us, so try to ask a question worthy of the situation, Liana.”
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered and thought for a moment. “So do you think the U.S. HMO model has international application for improving cost utilization outcomes?”
They stared at me.
“Never mind. Just kidding.” I handed the glass back to Lila and made an effort to sit up. Richard, meanwhile, found a towel and mopped up the spilled soda on the floor.
“Lay back, Liana. Don’t try to sit up yet,” Mom ordered. “And stop making jokes.”
“Listen,” I said, “I just want to get a handle on how long I’ve been here.”
I did take Mom’s advice, though, and stopped struggling. Aside from a tightness over my right ear and the feeling I was wearing about sixty-pounds of plaster of Paris on my head, I felt pretty good. There was no point in pushing it, however, so I lay my head back on the pillow.
“Is anybody going to tell me what time it is?” I asked again. “And what day it is?”
“It’s five minutes after three on Saturday afternoon, to answer your question, you ninny,” my brother said, laughing. “I see there’s been no major damage. It’s the same old Liana Alvarez.”
“Not so old,” he and I said in unison and laughed.
He grasped my hand and squeezed it hard before going on, “You were brought in late Thursday night, stayed in a coma for a little more that twenty-four hours, and you’ve been sleeping ever since. As for what happened before that, it’s an awesome story, Lee, totally awesome,” Richard added.
I made a face at him, or I tried to. It was hard to move my features with so much constriction on top of my head.
“I know you hate it when I use that Valley Girl vocabulary, but the word “awesome” is the palabra sympatico.”
“The right word about what, Richard?” I gaped.
“Our mother was awesome, Lee.”
“Now, stop taunting your sister, Richard,” Lila said, nonetheless preening a little.
“I just did what any other mother in that situation would have done.”
I held my breath. I didn’t like the sound of this. “What did you do?”
She walked to the other side of the bed and gently sat down on it. She took my free hand.
“How much do you remember, Liana?” Mom asked.
“Nada,” I said.
“Do you remember anything about the Coast Guard or your mama rescuing you?” asked Tio, stepping in front of Richard and caressing my shoulder.
For the first time in my life, I was speechless. “Mom,” I finally sputtered. “You rescued me? How did you do it? How did you know where I was? Actually, where was I?”
“You had been kidnapped and were being held aboard the Feng Shen. Mom rented a boat with the ten thousand dollars she keeps in the trunk of her car.” Richard fairly hollered with pride.
I stared at him with eyes, as they say, as big as saucers.
“I don’t like that talked about, Richard,” Mom reprimanded him. “Even among ourselves. You know better.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Richard said but winked at me. “I won’t mention it again.”
“Well, certainly don’t shout it out again,” Lila said in a softer tone, as she turned to me.
“It’s just your father and I have always kept money in the trunk of our cars for just such an emergency, but I don’t want it broadcast.”
“Ten thousand dollars?” I mouthed, stupefied.
“Anyway,” Richard went on, “after Tío broke into your car with a tire iron, and we listened to everything that happened to you on the receiver…”
“We had to do the break in, mi sobrina,” Tío interrupted. “There was no other way.”
“No other way, Lee,” Richard agreed and continued.
“So, after we learned where you were, Mom chased down Captain Chen’s boat—he’s the guy who kidnapped you—by hiring a charter boat. When we finally caught up with Chen, Mom kicked off her shoes and shinnied up the side of that boat in the middle of the ocean, in the middle of the night, and got you back,” he finished with a flourish.
I gaped. Color me stunned.
Richard went on, oblivious to my reaction. “You should have heard Fred Anderson.”
A “whoop” went up from all three upon hearing this name. I did more of my gaping routine. The crowd ignored me.
“Oh, yes, Captain Anderson. A rare person,” Mom said, rolling her eyes.
“Sí,” agreed Tio. “Un hombre unico.”
“He was really impressed with you, Mom,” Richard teased and turned back to me.
“Captain Anderson owns the Molly Belle and took us out to the Coast Guard cutter after Mom paid him the money. I heard him say ‘I’d like to have her nerve in my teeth’ as he watched Mom go right up the side of that boat!” Richard laughed at the recollection. “What a cool guy he is.”
Mom rolled her eyes again. I managed to glean the verdict wasn’t in yet as to whether or not this Anderson was really a cool guy.
“It was a ship, Ricardo,” Tío said firmly, as if this was an everyday conversation.
At a loss, I clutched my face with my hands.
Tío went on, emphasizing his words, “We were on a boat called the Molly Belle, chasing a ship, the Feng Shen, which was being pursued by the Coast Guard, yet another ship. Remember? Capitan Anderson was very definite about his craft being a boat and the Coast Guard cutter and the Feng Shen both being ships, mi sobrino.”
“Oh, right,” Richard said. “I have to do some research to see what the difference is between a boat and a ship. I don’t think it’s just the footage.”
I looked up at my mother and managed to ask in a faltering voice, “You shimmied up a Coast Guard cutter named the Feng Shen?”
“No, no, no, not the ship from the Coast Guard,” said Tío impatiently, before Mom could reply.
“She went up the Feng Shen.” He looked at my mother and my brother with uncertainty in his eyes. “Did it have a name, this cutter ship?”
“I think it had numbers on the side, not a name, Mateo,” Lila answered.
“She didn’t ‘shimmy’. She shinnied. There’s a difference, Lee,” Richard corrected me.
I would have laughed, but I could see everyone was serious. I re-clutched my face.
“I didn’t shimmy or shinny up the side of anything,” Lila said primly. “I used the rope ladder Lieutenant Commander Carter so very kindly provided. You know, Liana, he’s Lincoln Carter’s son. That’s why he even let me come aboard. Lincoln was a great friend of your father’s, but that’s another story. I’ll tell you that one when you’re feeling a little better.”
She smiled benevolently at me. I looked at Richard and Tío. They, too, were smiling benevolently at me.
I was just deciding I was in a world gone mad when Richard’s girlfriend, Victoria, walked in wearing—I swear—a Mad Hatter’s hat in blue velvet with a yellow band. I froze with fear.
To top it all off, my mother, the woman who snorted just the other day—“What does Richard see in that child? Victoria hasn’t even finished college. Victoria’s skirts are too short. Victoria wears horrifying hats in horrifying colors,” and so on and so on—this woman stood up and embraced the aforesaid miscreant! I found that the most unbelievable thing I had witnessed so far.
That’s when I knew. It was the concussion. I had read about delusions stemming from a bump on
the head. I was hallucinating. That was it. No one was really there. This drivel I thought my family was saying wasn’t really being said at all. No. Ha ha. They weren’t even there!
Of course, it could also be dehydration. I remembered in the movie, Gunga Din, a whole squad of legionnaires became delusional during a desert drill from a lack of water, too much heat and excessive camel dung. I slurped more water, thinking.
Maybe I’m on too many drugs. Yes, I’m drugged. It must be a very strong hallucinogenic, though, because this whole thing feels very real. Yet, if this is real, that means I’m Alice in Wonderland at the tea party, and my entire family has been invited along by the Mad Hatter, who seems to be Victoria. Hell, maybe they’re all Mad Hatters.
“I take mine with lemon,” I said, as I closed my eyes and rolled over, covering my face with a blanket.
~*~
That evening I was sitting up in bed eating what the hospital loosely called dinner. Everyone except Mom had left hours ago. Lila sat in a chair, reading work-related papers and answering my questions as they came to mind.
Right then, I was deciding what to eat first. Should it be tepid chicken broth, red Jell-O, or watered down tea? Decisions, decisions. I chose the Jell-O and wished I’d had some Haagen Dazs ice cream to wash it down with.
“But Mom,” I asked, as I munched on a gelatin cube, “how did you know I was missing so fast? You found me after only a few hours.”
She put her work aside. “When you didn’t show up at five-thirty, Mateo was in a panic. He knew from the beginning something was wrong. You are very reliable about showing up when you say you will.”
“Especially when food’s involved,” I acknowledged.
“Then Richard and Victoria came, and Richard said he thought you might still be in Princeton-by-the-Sea. Just when I was in a quandary as to how to find you there, Victoria offered a solution.”
“She did?”
“Yes. She said she has a cousin, Bryan Brown, who is with the Half Moon Bay Police Department. She called Officer Brown, and within minutes, he located your car in the parking lot of the diner. We drove there immediately, leaving Victoria to stay by the phone at home, in case someone called with more information about you.”