by Dale Mayer
So scared she could hardly move, a sound slowly penetrated. Off to the left, someone wept quietly. Low deep sobs. Female sobs. Sobs that seared into Robin’s heart. She’d heard enough of those. From patients she couldn’t help. From the families of those she couldn’t help. From herself.
Hospitals seemed to thrive on pain. Sure, many patients walked out in better shape than they walked in, but so many never walked out. These places were both lifesavers and the worst kind of hell for some. She wasn’t sure which side of that divide she stood on right now. She hadn’t been able to handle it the last few times she’d been in one.
Sean tugged on her hand, bringing her attention back to her surroundings. She glanced over at him, seeing the concerned frown on his face. She shrugged, struggling for control, and said, “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it.”
“I just want to look around.” She didn’t dare tell him that this was hard for her. Hell, it wasn’t like he didn’t get it. She’d been standing there like an idiot for the last five minutes. Obviously something was wrong with her. Did Sean understand what she’d gone through in a different hospital? Alone?
Even if he did, he didn’t know about her connection to this hospital. She’d sworn to never go back into a hospital for all the reasons she was experiencing right now. The panic. The inability to breathe. She might have panic attacks in her life now, but she swore they’d started while she’d been in the hospital.
She was a mess, and a lot of that was triggered by being in here.
At another hard tug on her hand, she squared her shoulders obstinately, needing another moment to try and see her surroundings rationally.
The reception was oriented to younger children, with the sitting area decorated with bright animal pictures painted on the wall. The large waiting area was mostly a playroom for the younger kids. There was so much here, but was geared to the kids and not the parents whose lives were torn by the events that brought them here.
Sean tugged at her again, nudging her toward the elevators on the left side. With a last glance at the full playroom, she followed him. Tough day already for her. She’d taken a trip inside a truck and was even now standing inside a hospital. Hard to believe.
But she’d managed so far. Now to get through the next hour…then do it all over again in reverse. She was afraid she’d lose her lunch as her stomach started to heave. Instead, her gut locked down. Her chest squeezed tight. She couldn’t breathe.
“Are you okay?” Sean gave her arm a slight shake.
After swallowing hard, she shot him a look as her world stabilized. She was here with him, for a report. Not for a trip down memory lane. Thankfully, she had something to focus on. She gave herself a shake and straightened her shoulders. “I’m fine.”
“You should be,” he said in a serious tone. “You’ve already beat back several demons.”
That surprised her. She shrugged dismissively. “Doesn’t feel like I came out the winner.”
“That’s because the day isn’t over.” And he grinned.
The kindness and light in that grin shocked her. Warmed her. It almost felt like a hug.
Just then, the elevator doors opened and she was saved from having to answer. They stepped out. Sean automatically turned right and she followed. She had the name of the person that Jenna had said would be waiting for them but didn’t have a clue where to find this person.
Sean appeared to. He walked through a series of doors and led her into a different world. As if he understood where these doors were actually going to take them. A world he recognized.
One of chaos. One of noise. One of children.
As if a whistle had been blown, the children realized they had company.
Silence fell. The kids stared at Sean, and then shifted to Robin.
She gasped. Her insides locked down and fear pulsed through her. She could not do this. She dropped her gaze to the floor, grateful her hair covered her face.
And she shut down.
*
In an instant, silence switched to chaos.
Sean stared at the craziness going on in the large room. After giving him and Robin both a long assessing look, the kids returned to doing what they’d been doing originally. Playing. There were multiple couches, tables and even a couple of beds on both sides of the room. At this end, some children were lying quietly watching the others. In the middle and at the far end, there was chaos as children played video games and….
Some kind of party must be going on. He didn’t remember any laughter or screaming for joy when he’d been here as a patient. And he’d been here lots. Not long enough to get to know anyone. But often enough for the staff to get to know him. Then again, he’d never been in a common room like this one.
He couldn’t help that shrinking sensation with his emotions before they rolled free in a totally inappropriate way. At least, inappropriate for here. He couldn’t rant and rave over the things done in the past anymore. He’d dealt with it all as much as he could – at the time and ever since. But every once in a while something – someone – got to him.
Like this group of kids. When this was over, he was going to hit the bar tonight. Not that he could drink himself into oblivion. He never did. That required a level of trust of the fellow man that he didn’t have. But a few to take the edge off – maybe. No. Definitely.
“Hello?” A tall woman in a nurse’s matched set strode toward them, a spring to her step and a bounce to her ponytail. Her smile – it was breathtaking.
Sean took a deep breath and raised his voice slightly to be heard over the din. “Hello. We’re looking for Andrea Schulenburg.”
“And you found her.” The woman tapped her name tag, bringing Sean’s attention to the name and position she held but before he could read it, she’d already turned and called back to two kids who appeared to be trying to have a sword fight with plastic knives.
A grin tugged at his mouth. He did love the resilience of kids. He had no idea why any of them were here but there were kids in bandages, wheelchairs, and casts. Some appeared to be missing limbs and still recovering from surgery, and still others were prone and hooked up to multiple tubes. Some of those kids lay unaffected; others smiled wistfully at the other kid’s antics. The nurse called out. “Mark and Brian, no bouncing on the beds, please.”
The boys jumped up and landed on their butts one final time before putting the plastic knives away. Interesting that she’d complained about the jumping but not the swordplay. While he’d been a patient here, he didn’t remember being allowed either. Then again, it probably depended on the group of kids that were patients at any one time, group dynamics being what they were.
“I presume you are Sean Wilson and Robin Childers.”
Sean nodded, seeing Robin not acknowledging the question in any way, her head down. Her fists clenched and released in a pattern he knew all too well. He tried to cover for her, saying pleasantly, “Yes. Thanks so much for letting us come.”
“The kids are happy to have some excitement to brighten up their day.” She smiled up at them. “Sean, I understand you are doing an artistic study. Do you have some kind of plan for what you want to happen here? A theme that I can help organize the children for?”
Sean looked at Robin sideways, a little lost on that theme aspect. If she had anything to contribute? She’d gone so still.
As in frozen.
Crap. His protective instincts rose to the surface and he shifted slightly, deliberately placing himself in front of Robin. He wished he could do this report alone. Robin might need to do it, but he wasn’t seeing any sign that she was ready to.
Andrea stared at him, waiting. Right, she’d asked something about the theme. Sean didn’t know what to say. Hell, he had no idea himself. He shrugged. “I don’t have a theme in mind yet. I’ll be doing some sketches of the kids. So I just need a place to sit and work.”
And a place for Robin to hide. She’d be of no use today. Not that he had any idea what she was su
pposed to do here anyway. It would have been good to know her issues with children were so traumatic. He had some issues too, but more than that, he wanted to keep his inner child at a distance. That child caused a ruckus when he was free.
Staying detached from these kids would be harder. If he could focus on the artwork, he could avoid getting hooked on the kids. He hoped.
“Just a table? Do you need the kids quiet?” she asked, doubt coloring her voice even as her eyes darted from one child to another.
“Ha.” He laughed, gesturing at the room behind her. “That doesn’t look possible.”
A bright grin transformed her face again. “No, at least not for long.”
“Motion,” Sean said. “They are all in motion. That could make my job difficult.”
Andrea laughed. “They are kids. As soon as they heal enough to be able to move, they are constantly in motion.” Her smile slipped. “Many are in between treatments. This is an escape for them. A release. Until the next time. And it’s just as important as their surgeries.”
“Sleep hard and play hard.” Sean watched the kids shift to yet another game. In a way, he was glad he’d seen this. He was here now as an adult. He could look back on the memories and keep them in their rightful place. This scene completely eclipsed his memories of the pain…and the shame. And that was a good thing. The sketches were going to be fun and lively. Just like the subjects.
Trying to pull himself out of the weird mood that had suddenly set in and yes, to compensate for Robin’s odd behavior, he turned to look around and saw a small table off the side by the window. A couple of chairs were there on the opposite side. He pointed to it. “How about over there?”
“Actually, I was just about to ask if that would work.” Andrea was already walking over and moving chairs about so there were two on one side and one on the other. “This should give you a decent amount of light, and you can see the kids from here.”
Grabbing Robin’s arm, he led her over. Once there, Sean dropped his bag on the table. It made a louder thunk than he was expecting.
Robin jumped. She stared from the bag to him and back at the bag as if just now seeing it for the first time. He frowned. What the hell? She was acting really out of it. And it didn’t look like she’d be pulling herself together anytime soon. He was afraid she’d explode, she was wound up so tight.
In a sudden move, she grabbed a chair, pulled it back, and sat down. He watched her as she watched the kids surreptitiously. She was acting both fascinated and repelled…yet…there was a hint of loneliness, sadness. He turned to watch the same two boys who’d been sword playing and were now arguing, and he could almost understand.
He didn’t have any good memories of childhood, but he understood what had been the best thing – Paris. Having his twin there meant he’d never been alone. They’d fought and played from instant to instant. In all things, the one lesson he’d learned as a child was to enjoy the moment. It was always over too soon.
Chapter 7
The smell…
Robin kept a smile pinned to her face. The children wouldn’t notice if it was real or not. They’d be too busy studying every aspect of her and making a decision based on nebulous things like instinct. Hopefully they’d ignore her. She needed them to. As she needed to ignore them. It was the only way she could survive the next hour. Just the sound of their play made the bile rise up the back of her throat. They’d see her any moment now. Damn. She’d turned her back on them, but they were kids.
They’d come closer any second now.
She swallowed hard, her mind racing for things she could say when they came. She didn’t want to be mean to any of them – they were obviously going through stuff of their own, but no one here seemed to understand how much more trauma they’d go through if they saw her face.
She’d seen it firsthand. She knew how the kids would react. The adults had a hard time with her too… but it was the children she was trying to save. Damn Jenna. How could she do this to them? They were sweet, innocent little kids. They didn’t need more monster faces to wake them up in the middle of the night. No child deserved that.
Lost inside, she was oblivious to what Sean was doing. A shudder slipped down her spine. What if she just left? She could sit out in the main lobby and wait. Though that wouldn’t be fair to Sean. Except that she’d have to deal with kids there, too. Maybe if she could keep her face hidden and stay silent, they wouldn’t realize she was here.
It would be best for everyone.
Andrea had disappeared somewhere – likely back to the far end where the kids were. Good. One less person here to make her feel uncomfortable. Immediately she kicked herself. God, how selfish. This wasn’t about her. She was trying to save them.
“Robin?”
She glanced up enough to see Sean out of her one eye. He was frowning at her. Of course he was. She wasn’t exactly contributing.
“Are you okay?”
For some reason, that pissed her off. Of course she wasn’t okay. But she was here and that might not count very high in his book, but it did in hers. She could have bolted. Was still considering it, but as long as she remained, she’d count this as a good day. She just had to get through this.
“I’m fine,” she said brusquely, against her best efforts to sound normal.
His eyebrow lifted and his lips twitched. “Right. I believe that.” He dropped his head and lifted his pencil to the paper and drew the first line.
There was no hesitation in his movements. Not where he’d start or what he’d start with. His pencil hit the paper and moved swiftly in sharp strong lines.
She almost hated him for that confidence. That control. He didn’t have to feel bad here. She didn’t know what Jenna thought this project would do for her or Sean, but she knew Sean wasn’t planning on taking it seriously. She wished she felt the same way. She could use a bit of attitude in her life.
She also could use a bit of healing. No, there was no point in fooling herself. She needed a lot more than a little. Realizing this was where she was going to be for the next hour, she closed her eyes and tried to disappear. Until a child’s voice interrupted her.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Sean said. “What’s your name?”
“Jonathon, but you can call me Jon.” The bright tone didn’t hide the wobbly frailness of the boy’s voice.
Robin froze, her heart hiccupping at the boy’s name. She didn’t want to open her eyes and look, but she couldn’t help herself. Her brother’s name had been Jonathon.
Peeking through her lashes, she studied Jon. The little boy appeared to be about eight years old, tight black curls covering his head. His face showed some damage, the reconstruction already in progress. He didn’t look anything like her brother – thank heavens. That made it easier to gaze upon him. He stood beside Sean, his attention completely absorbed in Sean’s movements. At least he’d ignored her. And maybe if she kept her eyes closed, he’d continue to do so.
“Hey, cool,” the boy said in awe.
Sean laughed. “What’s cool?”
Robin had to open her eyes to see. The little boy was pointing at Sean’s picture. From her angle, she couldn’t see what he was drawing, it all looked like random black lines. Not to the little boy apparently.
“You’re an artist.”
“Nah, it’s just a hobby.”
Robin heard something in his voice that made her look over to study his face. He was resistant to the idea of being an artist for some reason. She’d never seen anything he’d created, but she had to admit that the more he resisted, the more curious she got.
“Are you going to draw us?” He pointed to the nurse. “Andy said you were.”
Sean nodded. “Along with Robin here.”
Jon looked back at Robin, who dropped her lashes, then over to Sean then back again. “Are we going to see her face?”
Sean looked over at him. “You can’t see it?”
“Sure. But I meant the part that she keeps hidden.”
“Ask her.”
“Nah.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice, adding, “She doesn’t look friendly.” He backed away, shot one final look at Robin, and dashed back to the others.
Robin’s gaze followed the child. The room appeared to be males only. Jon grabbed a small plastic car and vroomed it across the floor, completely at ease.
Boys. Thinking of that, she turned to check out what Sean was doing. And found his hand moving like wildfire across a large sketchbook. And she meant like wildfire. She wouldn’t be surprised if smoke rose up from the paper. The look of concentration on his face was fascinating.
He was competent, focused…passionate.
She wished she knew what she was supposed to be doing for this project. Sean was supposed to sketching pictures of her with the kids. That meant she was supposed to be with the kids. Not sitting like a statue at his side. She got that. But how? Better she just stay in the shadows and let him do his thing.
Lord knew that’s what she wanted to do – but it hardly seemed fair.
Not that fairness was high on her list of concerns at the moment.
*
Sean watched his hand shift across the paper. As if controlled by another’s hand. He couldn’t be doing this. Or rather, he’d not sketched in this manner before. Then he really hadn’t done much sketching, period. He’d joked to himself about giving Jenna stick figures. He’d done some nice stuff before, but not much of it, and he didn’t have the time now to do a good job on all of them either. Not in a week. He had no idea how long it would take to complete this report because he didn’t have a good grasp of just what he was supposed to be doing. It had been a long time since he’d actually completed any artwork. He was rusty.
He flexed his fingers, seeing the oversized knuckles, the slightly uneven shape. His knuckles were stiff, the fingers aching. He’d never thought to hold a pencil like this again. His father hated to see him with a sketchbook and pencil. The punishments had been severe. Memories flooded his psyche. His father, going into rage, grabbing his hands followed by that horrible crisp snapping sound… Broken pencils…broken fingers…broken dreams.