The Children's Ward

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The Children's Ward Page 17

by Patricia Wallace


  Finally, she selected a pair of ivory linen slacks and a blue silk blouse, along with heeled suede boots.

  She took a minute out of her preparations to call for a cab.

  Digging through the closet, she found a corduroy jacket that she hadn’t worn since college, then stood in front of the mirror to evaluate her appearance. Desert chic.

  She decided to wait downstairs for the cab and, grabbing her purse and the overnight case, set out the door.

  “I won’t hear of you taking a cab,” Edmund Cowan said, steering her toward his Mercedes 450SL.

  “Are you sure it won’t be any trouble?”

  “LAX is always trouble, but you, my dear, are worth it.” His florid face beamed at her.

  “If you insist,” she said, allowing him to usher her into the elegant little car.

  “I do.”

  It was all she could do to keep Cowan from accompanying her to the ticket window. The man needed a leash.

  “Don’t be silly, Edmund, the traffic is only going to get worse and I don’t want you stuck in it on my account.”

  “All right, but promise that when you get back, you’ll stop by for a drink.”

  Where was the man’s wife? “Of course.” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks again.”

  She knew that he watched her as she started for the terminal.

  At the ticket counter she held her breath. She had paid for the tickets in cash through a travel agency in Spring Valley, using the name Alice Smith. It only just occurred to her that they might require identification.

  They didn’t. The clerk handed the packet to her without comment.

  She was on her way.

  Waiting in the passenger lounge for boarding, she found herself thinking about James.

  Jimmy.

  He had been so different from the other boys. Strong and silent and gentle-natured. His hair hadn’t been that long, then, but he still looked like her romantic notion of a warrior brave. More than that, he had a body.

  She smiled to herself.

  The early days of their relationship had been immensely satisfying. The differences between them hadn’t mattered then.

  Only later, when he took her to live on the reservation, had she realized how great those differences were, and how deep they ran.

  It had never crossed her mind, when she left the reservation, that he wouldn’t follow her. Or that if he followed her, he wouldn’t stay.

  But he hadn’t stayed.

  He had asked her to bring Tessi and come back with him. He would do everything he could to make it better for her this time.

  She did not believe there was anything he could do to make it better.

  For the first time in her life, Alicia had wanted something she couldn’t have. She could still remember the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach when he told her goodbye.

  Eventually, after he was gone, she convinced herself that she hadn’t really wanted him. But she began to hate him for taking the decision out of her hands.

  Now she hated him far more than she had ever loved him. And she would never forgive him.

  But she would even the score.

  She would more than even the score.

  Seventy-eight

  Tessi was crying softly when Abigail awoke.

  “Do you want me to ring for the nurse?” Abigail asked.

  Tessi nodded, looking at Abigail with reddened eyes. Her nose was running and she wiped at it with a corner of the sheet.

  “I think I’m going to die,” Tessi sobbed.

  The nurse brushed the hair out of Tessi’s face, then wiped away the child’s tears.

  “Can you tell me where it hurts?” Mary asked.

  “All over.”

  “I’m going to call the doctor, Tessi, so just hold on for a minute and I’ll be right back.” She looked at Abigail who was watching silently. “Right back,” she repeated.

  Tessi continued to cry.

  “Her vital signs are all normal,” the nurse said as Dr. Logan moved her hands across Tessi’s abdomen.

  “When did she start doing this?”

  The nurse looked at Abigail. “I’m not sure.”

  “She was crying when I woke up,” Abigail said.

  “Let’s get a blood count,” Dr. Logan said and put the stethoscope in her ears to listen to Tessi’s chest.

  The nurse patted Tessi’s hand. “It’ll be all right,” she said and then left the ward.

  Tessi did not even protest when the lab technician took her blood. She lay, her free arm across her eyes, crying steadily.

  Abigail watched as the tube filled with Tessi’s blood.

  “I’m going to die,” Tessi whimpered, her eyes wide with fear.

  A second doctor that Abigail had never seen was talking with Dr. Logan near the door.

  “No, you won’t,” Abigail said.

  “Hi, Tessi,” the male doctor said. “Remember me? I’m Dr. Campbell and we talked the other day. Can you tell me what’s troubling you?”

  “I’m going to die.”

  “Ssh. You’ll be fine. I think you’re having a little anxiety reaction and the nurse is going to give you some medication…a shot…that will make you feel much better.” He nodded at the nurse.

  Abigail watched the needle penetrate Tessi’s skin.

  A few minutes later Tessi was sleeping soundly, her tearstained face the only sign of her fears.

  The doctors had left and the nurse, after raising the safety rails on the side of Tessi’s bed, followed after.

  Abigail knew what fears had tortured Tessi.

  Understood them more than even Tessi did.

  Tessi was frightened that her mother was going to take her away from her father.

  Tessi did not want that to happen.

  She was scared that she would be consumed in her mother’s rage against her father, feeling powerless in an adult battle.

  Tessi sensed that the final confrontation was near.

  They would not destroy Tessi.

  Abigail was certain of that.

  Seventy-nine

  “I’m surprised to see you here today,” Quinn said as they walked across the hospital grounds toward the main building.

  “Don’t you think psychiatrists work as hard as you medical doctors?”

  Quinn smiled. “That’s not it at all. It’s just such a beautiful day…I would think if you didn’t have patients to see, you’d be crazy to be here today.”

  “Well, I am a little crazy, actually. It’s the company I keep…present company excepted.”

  “Maybe present company as well.”

  “Really?” He looked at her quizzically.

  “I had an experience last night I haven’t quite figured out.”

  They reached the main building and went in through the lobby.

  “Would you like to tell me about it?”

  “Hmm. Right now I’d rather talk about Tessi.”

  “Ah. Patient changes the subject.”

  She laughed. “I can see I may have backed myself into a corner.”

  “I’d be more than happy to accompany you in the corner,” Ian said.

  “Oh,” she said lightly. “Is this a pass?”

  “Not really. I’m not very good at that sort of thing. Besides, I imagine you’re spoken for.”

  “What makes you think that?” She unlocked her office door.

  “Doctor changes the subject. Let’s talk about Tessi.”

  Bemused, she laughed again. “All right. Tessi.”

  “I can honestly say I’ve never seen a child as anxious as she was this morning. I think she really believed that she was going to die.”

  “That was my impression,” Quinn agreed.

  “How receptive do you think her parents would be to counseling?”

  Remembering Alicia Vincent’s face at the meeting, Quinn shook her head. “Not very. At least the mother wouldn’t be. I think the father would be willing.”

  “We need parents and child.”
>
  “I know.”

  “I’m afraid if we don’t do something to alleviate the psychological pressure that Tessi is experiencing, her physical state is going to deteriorate further.”

  Quinn sighed. “I suppose we could try to talk to the mother.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “Well, it won’t be until Monday; she’s gone back to Los Angeles for the weekend.”

  “Monday will have to do, then.” His eyes came to rest on Courtney’s EEG. “Did you have a chance to look that over?”

  “The EEG? Not yet.” She reached for it.

  “It’s very interesting. According to all of the reports I have, she’s always had a normal EEG up until now.”

  Quinn looked up. “Until now?”

  “This one is completely normal during the awake exam, but once she fell asleep…look.” He came over and flipped through the folds of the graph paper. “Here, look at those spikes.” He traced the markings through three sheets of the study.

  “She’s being stimulated?”

  At her questioning look he shook his head. “Not at all. But it certainly looks like an electrical storm in her brain.”

  “A dream state?”

  “According to the technician, she was in REM.”

  “Exciting dreams, then,” Quinn commented, folding back the EEG.

  “Well…she told me about some of her dreams. Very odd.”

  “Yes?”

  “On the night of her seizure, she told me she dreamt that her house was on fire.”

  Quinn raised her eyebrows.

  “She said, and I think these were her exact words, ‘I was burning up…my house was burning up.’ “

  “She did have a fever,” Quinn noted.

  “Anyway, it’s in my report.”

  “You said dreams. What were the others?”

  “Oh yes. Apparently they woke her up just before her appointment. That’s why she was so sleepy when they brought her over; they woke her during the middle of a dream. She was dreaming about an auto accident.”

  “Pretty frightening dreams.”

  “Then…I told you I let her sleep in my office.”

  “She had another dream?”

  “This one was tame by comparison. She dreamt that her mother signed her out of the hospital.”

  Quinn nodded. “You talked with Russell yesterday, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. His is another fascinating case. I have to hand it to Joshua, he certainly has gathered an interesting group of children.”

  “Tell me about Russell.”

  “Well, what I said yesterday at the meeting. I think it’s possible for us to witness a dramatic improvement in his condition.”

  “Such as…?”

  “I’m not saying,” Ian continued, “that he’s just going to get up and walk one day. But I think he’s suffering from some sort of hysterical paralysis which keeps him from walking and if we can resolve the emotional and psychological problems, the physical problems can be surmounted.”

  “That would be…”

  “Fantastic.” Ian’s smile broadened. “I think we can do it.”

  “I hope so.” She looked at her watch.

  “Am I keeping you from something?”

  “I have to go down to the city morgue and sign a death certificate.”

  “Don’t they usually bring those here for you to sign?”

  “Usually.” She shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m so new in town…it’ll give me a chance to look around.”

  “The morgue wouldn’t be my choice for sightseeing…”

  “Mine either.” She got up and smiled at Ian. “But duty calls. Oh, by the way, can I get a copy of your reports on Courtney and Russell?”

  “They’re in transcription, probably won’t be out until this afternoon.”

  “Well, I’ll get them on Monday then.”

  “What, not working tomorrow?”

  “Medical doctors don’t work all that hard,” she laughed.

  Eighty

  Tiffany scanned the hospital parking lot for David’s car, not really expecting to find it but nonetheless relieved when she did not.

  She wasn’t ready for a confrontation.

  Last night had been the first truly peaceful night she’d had in years and she wanted that feeling to continue. Alone in the motel room, she was less lonely than she’d been in a long time.

  She knew that her departure would not break David’s heart. He would have left her years ago if it hadn’t been for the money.

  There had always been other women and she suspected that there always would be; David needed a way to prove he was a man.

  It didn’t matter, though.

  All that mattered was that she and Courtney were going to start a new life.

  David could have visitation rights if he wanted them. He was Courtney’s father, after all. But she’d always felt that his heart wasn’t in it.

  Whether her own heart had been in it was, she had realized, also at doubt. Her early devotion to Courtney as a baby had given way to a sort of benign neglect.

  Maybe if things had been different, if they’d been a real family…she stopped herself.

  Maybes didn’t count.

  The past was behind her.

  It was from this moment on that she needed to focus on. She owed it to Courtney and she owed it to herself.

  She was early for visiting hours so she decided to see if she could locate one of Courtney’s doctors.

  She needed advice on how to tell Courtney about the fire and, more importantly, about the separation.

  Courtney was such a quiet child, it was sometimes difficult to determine whether she was upset about something. Tiffany didn’t know how to proceed.

  Her instincts told her that if she explained everything very matter-of-factly, Courtney would handle it without any problems. Or major problems, anyway.

  Still, the doctors were more versed in child psychology than she was, and she didn’t want to do or say anything that could have an effect on her daughter’s sometimes precarious health.

  Neither of the doctors were in their offices so she went to the switchboard to have them paged.

  “Dr. Logan left just a few minutes ago,” the operator said. “She might be back later this afternoon.”

  “What about Dr. Fuller?”

  “He hasn’t been in yet today but he might be in later. Do you want me to call his exchange?”

  Tiffany hesitated. “No…I think it can wait.”

  “Do you want to leave a message for either of them?”

  She shook her head. “No…yes…if it’s no trouble?”

  “Not at all.” The operator handed her a pad and pencil. “Just write down your name and number, and I’ll give it to whichever one comes in first.”

  With fifteen minutes left before visiting hours, Tiffany wandered through the hospital gift shop.

  All of the Christmas decorations were up and she wondered whether she’d spend Christmas alone. The doctors hadn’t said for sure when Courtney would be released.

  She hadn’t thought to take any of the decorations, so she bought a dozen yarn snowballs and as many miniature wood toys. On a small Christmas tree, they would be just about enough.

  As for presents…

  She hoped to give Courtney a new mother.

  Eighty-one

  When she arrived in New Mexico, Alicia looked for someone who looked like a photographer. It was not an easy thing to do, since in her experience photographers tended to be nondescript, but she stood watching people come and go.

  After fifteen minutes of this she decided that Howard had not bothered to arrange to have anyone meet her.

  That was a mistake he would regret.

  She hoped Mrs. Kraft would like the sound of her husband’s verbal foreplay…

  But for now, Alicia was stuck without a photographer.

  Well, how hard could it be? She’d worked publicity shoots dozens of times and none of the photographers she�
�d ever met seemed to work too hard at it. She’d get her own camera and take the lousy pictures herself.

  That decided, she set off in search of the car rental agency. Luckily it was a local company which she didn’t feel would be too particular about I.D.

  There was a man at the counter ahead of her and she watched in satisfaction as he rented a car without showing even a driver’s license.

  This was the type of thing James would point out as indicative of the innate decency of the New Mexican people.

  Whatever, she was grateful for it.

  The man left the counter and she stepped up.

  “Good afternoon,” the clerk said, and handed her a rental application form.

  “I called ahead…Alice Smith.”

  The clerk thumbed through a small stack of cards. “Here it is, Alice Smith. Cash or charge?”

  “Cash,” Alicia said, and reached into her purse.

  For a second she couldn’t believe her eyes. A single five dollar bill. Then she remembered; she had tucked the rest of her money under the seat of the car when she’d stopped for coffee, and hadn’t remembered to retrieve the cash when she’d left the car in the parking garage in L.A.

  Five dollars. Damn!

  She couldn’t use her credit cards, at least not with this clerk.

  “Oh…can you tell me where I could find a phone?”

  The clerk, who had been completing the paperwork, looked up. “You can use our phone.”

  “No…this is long distance and it may take a while.” Alicia looked at the rental forms, trying to think of a good reason to leave before completing the transaction.

  Just then the phone rang. “Excuse me,” the clerk said.

  Alicia walked away quickly.

  Outside the terminal she stopped to gather her thoughts. She was in an awkward situation. She had five dollars in cash. If she wanted to use her credit card to rent a car she would have to wait until the clerk went off duty. There was no way for her to know when that might be.

  Renting a room would present the same problem. She could use her credit cards but she would rather not. She did not want anyone to ever find out that she came to New Mexico.

  She had lied to the doctors about where she was going. She had lied to Tessi.

 

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