“He really did it, Jamie,” she said in hushed astonishment.
It was a ridiculous time for either one of them to start smiling. They were still in the midst of the most dangerous circumstance of their lives. But she did smile. And he smiled back.
“Jamie, I wasn’t too much for him. I hadn’t gone too far.”
Chapter 79
H
ell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
Jamie had heard the idiom several times and even used it himself a time or two, but what became apparent after Elizabeth had accepted Jesus was, in fact, that hell had no fury like a demon scorned.
The demon within the man that Elizabeth called Drew found its voice again, and it was outraged.
The man stood to his feet, stared at Jamie, and seethed. “Winning this is about to become the greatest loss you’ve ever suffered!”
Jamie had no time to respond to what he thought was going to be an attack upon him. The demonically controlled man feigned a move in his direction, causing him to move into a defensive posture to ward off a blow. A blow that never came.
Drew’s body instead flew at the bed, something long in his hand. Before Jamie could even recognize it, the demon thrust the object into Elizabeth’s chest.
Shock registered in Elizabeth’s face, especially in her eyes.
Jamie heard himself scream as he leapt over the foot of the bed, crashing into Drew, his right forearm and elbow purposely colliding with the man’s face.
Something cracked. Drew’s nose, and possibly his jaw.
“Elizabeth!”
The blow that Drew received appeared to have rendered him unconscious. Jamie wrapped an arm around Drew’s throat and struggled to pull him off of her.
Jamie pulled and pushed and finally dropped the man off the side of the bed. He landed with a thump as his head struck the hardwood floor.
There was blood everywhere.
“Jamie.” Elizabeth spoke his voice with a very noticeable wheeze.
Able now to focus on her, Jamie saw what appeared to be an old knitting needle sticking out of her chest.
“God, no! Please, God, no!”
He moved quickly to her side, panicking. The needle … should it stay in?
“Elizabeth.… You’re going to be okay.” His eyes were wide and glistening as he knelt above her. He ached for his words to be true.
“Jamie.…”
There were tears. The shock he’d seen when Drew attacked her was gone from her face.
Jamie looked at her as his chest convulsed. “I’m sorry! I.…”
He had no words.
But he was struck with the knowledge that he needed help.
“Jamie.…” she said again, her voice so quiet. “You saved me.”
Elizabeth’s eyes closed and her face relaxed.
“Noooo! Nooooo!”
Jamie wanted to shake life back into her, but he did the only thing that he knew needed to be done. He got off the bed and darted to the window. He kicked the broken table out of the way and threw up the sash.
JENNA WAS BESIDE herself with emotional anguish.
She’d heard every yell and scream. She’d heard the muted sounds of things crashing and breaking. She’d seen the shadows of body movements portrayed against the window shade.
Then she’d heard Jamie’s desperate call of Elizabeth’s name. She knew something bad had happened.
She didn’t know what to do. She stood, fastened in place.
She demanded of herself, Run to the house; help Jamie and Elizabeth!
Then she heard the sound of the sirens.
Oh God, thank you! Please, get them here fast!
She thought to run back down the maze of a driveway to wave down whoever it was that was arriving first. That’s when she heard the slam of wood against wood and turned her head back to the house.
The silhouette looked like Jamie.
“Jenna! Call an ambulance! Call one now!”
Then his head and shoulders disappeared back into the room. Her phone was out of her pocket in seconds.
She dialed 9-1-1 as she began to run back toward the street.
The phone rang once. “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
Jenna hoped she’d be able to speak plain English. “An ambulance! I need one! Now, please!”
In the distance to her right, blue and red lights caught her attention.
“Ma’am, may I have an address?” came the measured, practiced voice of the woman.
“I uhh.…” Back pocket! She grabbed the envelope and read the address to the dispatcher.
“Ma’am, someone has already called for an ambulance to that address. Do you need another?”
Jenna tried to understand. “Someone else?”
“Yes, ma’am, a Pittston police officer.”
“Dad! My dad called you! Thank God!”
“Ma’am, do you require a second ambulance?”
Jenna thought quickly. “I don’t know. I … uhh.… Yes! Yes! We need another one! Hurry!”
“I’ll dispatch another. What are the involved injuries? How many people involved?”
“Two or three. I don’t know.”
The lights and sirens were almost upon her, and she didn’t have time to stay on the line.
“Thank you,” she said, then hung up.
The first of four vehicles to arrive was the so-very-familiar color of a Pittston police cruiser. It was her dad!
The car came to a fast stop behind Jenna’s car. Bounding from the car, almost instantly, was her dad.
Jenna began to cry.
Her dad rushed to her.
BRENT GRABBED HIS daughter in his arms and held her tight.
“Jenna, are you all right?”
He felt her nod as her body began to shake.
Brent stepped back from her, taking her shoulders in his hands. He looked her directly in the eyes. “Jenna, what’s going on? Where’s Jamie?”
As if emerging from a fog, Jenna’s eyes widened. “Dad, the house! Elizabeth and Jamie!”
Jenna tore from his grasp and ran into the small dead end of the driveway, then began to disappear to the right. He gave chase.
Brent followed his daughter until they emerged from almost complete darkness into the front yard of a house.
Jenna didn’t stop. She ran straight for the door.
Brent heard more cars stop. Doors opening and closing. He keyed his mic. “The house across the street. Hidden driveway.”
He and Jenna reached the porch and rushed through the already-open front door.
It took Jenna a second to process, then she ran up the stairs, Brent on her heels.
Once they rounded the upstairs doorway into the room, they were both startled by the sight.
Jamie was weeping uncontrollably over a body.
Brent’s heart bottomed out. “No! No, no, no, no, no!” He rounded the end of the bed to the side where Jamie was half on, half off, grasping Elizabeth’s left hand.
“Dad! Dad!” Jamie whimpered in a loud voice. “Do something! Do something!”
Brent pulled his son from her side and took his place kneeling on the mattress. He assessed Elizabeth’s condition, first seeing the needle protruding from the left side of her chest. Next, he placed his fingers against her carotid artery.
There was a pulse. Ever so slight, but there.
Brent heard footsteps running up the stairs.
Officer Townsend, along with two county deputies quickly made their way into the bedroom.
Brent heard Kim speak under her breath, “Oh, no. Elizabeth.” Then he heard Jenna begin to cry.
That’s all it took for Brent to choke up. Urgency was giving way to fear of loss.
He turned and looked at his daughter and the young female officer, tears forming in his eyes. He choked out the words, “Kim, I need that ambulance.”
“Sergeant Eldredge is waving them
in. They’ll be here fast.”
Brent nodded.
He looked down at his second-oldest daughter. “Hold on, Elizabeth. Hold on.”
SATURDAY, AUGUST 16
Chapter 80
T
o say that it was an emotional night would be an understatement … by several degrees.
By the time Elizabeth arrived at the Wadsworth-Rittman Medical Center, calls had been made to prayer warriors all over the state. All it had taken was one call from Jenna to Tara.
Everyone now sat pensively in the emergency room, waiting for word on Elizabeth’s condition. They’d been there for a couple of hours already. All they knew was each successive step that had led to her going into emergency surgery.
When she was wheeled in, they immediately took portable X-rays. The X-ray determined that she did have a broken rib, caused by the downward force of the old, particularly strong knitting needle. It was difficult to determine what was wood and what might have been bone fragments in her lung.
Because they didn’t want to extract a potentially broken piece of wood and potentially cause even more damage, they moved her for a chest CT. That showed that their extra precautions had potentially saved her life.
They hadn’t gotten any real information about her condition in well over an hour, and it was maddening. But she was in bad shape, according to the E.R. doctor.
Jamie had propped himself up against a vending machine in a hallway that led to the emergency room waiting area. He had a good view of everyone.
Jamie looked at his mom and Jenna. The two clung to each other as if Elizabeth’s well-being depended on their combined strength.
His dad was standing with Officers Larkin, Eldredge, and Townsend, talking with the two Wayne County deputies about something. Jamie didn’t really care at this point.
About thirty minutes after they’d arrived, the Wayne County Sheriff himself had also walked into the E.R. for a brief time. They’d shaken hands all around. The county had an E.R. patient of its own to be concerned with. Drew Parks.
He was not long in the E.R. either. He had to be life-flighted to another hospital which had a trauma center that could take care of what he heard referred to as “frontal bone fractures” and “frontal sinus injuries.” Apparently, they required emergency and reconstructive surgeries.
The pain in his right arm, Drew dealt with gratefully. Since he could still move his elbow, he decided not to worry about having the emergency room attending physician examine it.
Jamie knew he should feel bad about Drew’s injuries, but he was finding it hard to have sympathy for the man who had tried to kill the girl he loved, even if the man hadn’t been in control of himself when it happened.
He’d heard his dad talking to Officer Eldredge about that. The law certainly wasn’t going to take demon possession into account when it came to criminal charges. Drew Parks would be charged with attempted murder while recovering at the other hospital.
Unless, of course, Elizabeth died on the operating table.
Out of frustration, Jamie rammed his right elbow backward into the side of the vending machine. It hurt.
The sound brought eyes in the waiting room upon him, including several people he didn’t know.
Oh no. Jamie sighed. His dad excused himself and walked toward him.
Jamie turned from the machine and began walking slowly down the hallway, away from his dad.
“Jamie.”
At the mention of his name, he stopped. Emotion was right at the cusp of taking over. He was barely holding back the tears.
He felt his dad’s hand reach out for his back, then he came into view on his left side. The gentle pressure on his back led him to the wall where the vending machines blocked them from view in the waiting room.
“Son, how are you doing?”
His dad looked at him with the compassion of a father, not the professionalism that the uniform he was wearing merited.
Jamie shook his head, not trusting his ability to speak without losing it.
“Come here.”
His dad drew him into his chest. The two of them were nearly the same height, and it allowed Jamie to lay his head on his dad’s left shoulder.
After a minute, his dad said, “I love you, James.”
It was rare to hear his real name. It used to only be used when he was in trouble, but somehow hearing it now spoke to his heart with incredible intensity.
And Jamie lost it.
Three sobs escaped him that he was just unable to control. He was hurting, and he was scared. And right now, he needed his dad more than anyone else in the world.
“Dad … I … I wasn’t fast enough.”
Then the tears really came.
His dad held him tighter, his left hand reaching up to cradle his son’s neck with firm reassurance. He didn’t break the silence.
In that moment, he’d never loved his dad more. There were no trite words. No assurances. Just understanding.
Jamie shook as he wept, and his dad showed that there was nothing more important in his own world than him.
ANOTHER NINETY MINUTES passed before the surgeon, wearing green scrubs, and another doctor in his white coat, walked into the emergency room waiting area and approached Brent, who was now sitting next to Tara.
They stood up, as the rest of the family and police officers gathered around.
“For those of you that I’ve not met, I’m Doctor Patai. I led the first of Elizabeth’s surgeries.” Directing his hand toward the other physician, he said, “This is Doctor Green, the head of orthopedics here at Rittman. He’ll brief you after I’m done.
“Elizabeth had internal bleeding as a result of a puncture that penetrated her left lung. She lost a lot of blood. Thankfully, we had enough AB+ blood to transfuse and sustain her during the surgery. She suffered a traumatic pneumothorax—in general terms, a collapsed lung. We extracted the foreign object—a wooden knitting needle—as well as the splinters of wood in and around her lung. When she arrived at the E.R., we inserted a chest tube to re-inflate the lung. A tube will remain in her chest for the next couple of days to assist in the lung’s recovery. The rib that was struck by the needle was fractured but not shattered, therefore, she’s not going to need a bone graft.
“She is still in serious condition. She’s not out of the woods. But we’re confident we’ve successfully repaired all of the damage. We’re also administering a course of antibiotics to prevent infection.
“That said, I’m optimistic. Once she’s out of danger and able to finally go home, it will take six to eight weeks for the lung and chest cavity to heal. She’ll require an air tank to aid in the healing of the pneumothorax, and she’ll need to be monitored throughout that time. The broken rib will cause her to not want to take deep breaths. But if she doesn’t, she will have increased potential for pneumonia. Encouraging her to cough will be very helpful, albeit painful. But these things will be addressed further at the time of her discharge.”
Brent knew all about that painful coughing routine from his own rib injury a couple years before.
Tara put her arm around Brent and leaned into him. He felt her sigh with relief.
Doctor Patai turned to his colleague. “Doctor Green?”
“Elizabeth’s right leg has suffered moderate trauma. She has a damaged meniscus—the cartilage shock absorbers between the femur and tibia—and possible damage to her anterior cruciate ligament, the ACL. She also has a non-displaced fracture of the tibia. Because the bone above and below the fracture are still in line, it should heal just fine on its own. The ACL, and possibly the meniscus, will have to be repaired through surgery. For the ACL, we’ll have to replace it with another tendon from her knee. For the meniscus, if needed, we’ll perform an arthroscopic procedure. Both will require lengthy follow-up therapy so that Elizabeth can regain full use of the knee. As for when surgery can happen, it will be based on Elizabeth’s lung recovery. We’ll li
kely release her with either a cast or splint for support and stability. Either I or another doctor from my department will advise on all of that as Elizabeth draws close to her initial discharge from the hospital.”
“Thank you, Doctor Patai, Doctor Green,” responded Brent. “Thank you both for taking care of our girl.”
“Yeah, about that,” inserted Doctor Patai. “We had to contact her biological parents for permission to conduct certain procedures. They are in the hospital as we speak. I’m talking with you about Elizabeth’s condition out of courtesy because they gave me permission to do so. They were uncomfortable with interacting with you directly, so they were admitted through the ‘back door,’ as it were.”
“How are they doing?” asked Tara. Brent gave her a squeeze of approval for the question. Tara’s heart seemed to maintain compassion for people through any situation that they went through, Stephanie O’Leary being the biggest case in point.
“Let’s just say that they’re hard to read.”
Brent nodded his understanding.
“Folks, I need to get back to work. And all of you can let your emotions rest. We’re taking good care of her.”
“When can I … I mean … when can we see her?” asked Jamie.
“Depending on how well she comes out of the anesthesia, as early as tomorrow morning. But until she wakes and gives her own permission, the parents are the only ones who can give it. And based on their reticence to meet with you, I’m guessing that’s going to be iffy.”
And with that, the surgeon did an about face and walked away.
Despite the doctor’s final comment, there was a sigh of relief from just about everyone.
Brent opened his arms to include Jamie and Jenna into a hug that he wanted to give each one of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he even saw Officers Eldredge and Townsend give each other a brief hug. Tracy Larkin, true to form, stood back, arms crossed, and gave a half smile when he caught Brent’s eye.
When they separated, Brent suggested that they all go home and get some rest. He saw that Jamie was about to object, so he intercepted it and let him know that there was just no good reason to stay when she wouldn’t be awake and no one could go back to visit.
That Dark Place Page 45