Once Johnny was out of sight, Sam fell into Annie’s arms. Tears flooded her eyes as her body relaxed into Annie’s. They didn’t release their embrace until Johnny was safely placed into a police car.
“You’re okay now,” Annie whispered.
“This has all been such a nightmare...a long, twenty-four-year nightmare.”
“No one’s gonna hurt you ever again.”
“Maybe you could stay one more night?” Sam said and buried her face in Annie’s neck. “Might be nice to...have you near me a little bit longer.”
“You got it. I’ll stay as long as you want.”
Sam pulled away from Annie then looped her arm in Annie’s as they left the yard. Sam peered across the water where she could see the wide barren shore of No Man’s Landing. Over the years, the terrain had changed—the sandy beach now barely recognizable. Twenty-four years of storms and tumultuous currents by now had likely taken the skeletal remains of that dead bird far away.
Part III
“For this moment, this one moment, we are together...
Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh.
Tear me asunder. I sob, I sob.”
~ Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Chapter Twenty-five
Mississippi: Spring 2015
THE ENDLESS TORRENT of the Okatoma churned in the distance. Sam stood in the opened doorway to the barn and thought of going over to the house to see Robert but hesitated since she knew Mama was probably with him right now. Ever since he came home, Sam preferred to see Robert by herself—the time when she could talk to him without anyone else hearing what she said.
With this being spring, the water level was at its highest, the flow louder and more powerful than usual this year. Since the accident, the creek had taken on a different sound all together—the rumbling current an incessant reminder that these waters took Robert away several months ago. Here but not here—this was the continual thought that ran through Sam’s head once he came home.
Sam tossed her backpack and books onto the bed then settled down to study for her bio exam. She took out a set of colored pencils and began to copy pictures of cells from the textbook. A few weeks ago, she signed up for a microbiology class at the local community college. Although she decided against medical school, she still wanted to get her B.S. in biology since she only had a few more units left. For the time being, she turned down the lieutenant position but still considered it should she be able to return to San Diego. But for now, Mama needed help caring for Robert.
The only way the rehab hospital discharged Robert was because Jane assured them he’d have twenty-four-hour care at home with her being a nurse and having experience in monitoring ventilators and feeding tubes. Mavis came Monday through Thursday, and Ellen came during the daytime on the other days. Sam managed well with her experience as an EMT. It wasn’t until two weeks after Robert came home that she came up with her plan.
With a tower of books entombed around her, Sam pored over pages of notes and class handouts. The drone of the creek grated on her, but she did her best to concentrate on her studies. She flipped through a stack of flashcards, hoping some of this material would be lodged somewhere in her brain for tomorrow’s exam. She peeked at the other side of a flashcard that had a sketch of what looked like a Rorschach drawing. Over the past couple weeks, Sam spent more time replicating the images than she did studying what the actual pictures meant. She could no more describe the difference between cell symbiosis and cell replication than she could anything she’d learned so far this semester. She set the card with the others then flipped to the section in the textbook on cell symbiosis. She was startled to notice her mother in the doorway.
“Why don’t you study in the kitchen where the light’s better?” Jane stepped closer to the bed and stood there for a moment without saying a word. Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, momentarily drowning out the sound of the creek.
Sam thumbed through her flashcards and didn’t look up when she answered her mother. “I’ve got all my books and notes set up here. Might as well just stay put.”
Jane stepped to the foot of the bed then paced back to the doorway. “So, you probably heard about the charges. He goes on trial the first of April.”
“Annie told me yesterday,” Sam said without looking up as she rummaged through the tin of pencils.
“Not sure I can face that man after what he’s done to my boy.”
“Mama, I’ll be there with Annie. She made sure he’s been charged with everything possible, the worst of which is attempted murder.” She heard Jane gasp when she said those two words.
“I know how those trials work. I’ve seen enough true crime shows to know what’ll happen to him. He’ll likely only get charged with reckless driving and be out in six months. How do we know his lawyer won’t convince a jury it was just a random accident?”
“There’s no way they’ll lessen the charges. We both see what that man did to Robert. He can’t even sit up or...feed himself.” A measured rage tinged her words, but she quieted her tone once she noticed Jane wringing her hands and pacing along the side of the bed. Sam set the flashcards aside and looked at her mother. “Mama, it’s all gonna work out. You’ll see. That man tried to kill Robert. That sure as hell isn’t reckless driving.”
“At least Robert is home where he belongs. Will you check on him soon? I got called into work for a few hours.”
“You working till morning?” Sam asked, eager to know if she could be alone with Robert for an extended period of time.
“Just till midnight. Census is high right now, so they need coverage in the ICU.” Jane paused in the opened doorway. “There’s leftover stew in the fridge and oatmeal cookies on the counter.”
“I’ll heat up some dinner in a while. I’ll be sure to check on Robert when I’m over there.” Sam closed her textbook and set the tin of colored pencils on the nightstand. A cool gust of wind rustled the notes and flashcards on the bed. “Mama, everything will work out. Like you said, at least he’s home now.”
After she stood there quiet for another moment, Jane shut the door without saying goodbye and left Sam to her studies. Sam peered out the window and watched her mother traipse across the lawn and then get in the Buick. Once she saw that the car was down the road, Sam left the barn and followed the worn path to the house then trudged up the steps. She paused in the entryway for a moment and wondered if today really was the right day to follow through with her plan. With her mother gone until midnight and with both nurses off today, this was probably the most opportune time.
Sam followed the long hallway down to Robert’s room and paused in the doorway. Once she approached the foot of the bed, she noticed his eyes were partially open.
When Robert came home, he was a shell of what he once was. Canoeing, swimming, and collecting snakes one day—the next, brain damaged and paralyzed with a catheter and hooked up to a G-tube and ventilator. He was here but not here.
Despite Robert being in a persistent vegetative state, Sam made sure he was around all that he loved—the copperheads, water moccasins, and mambas. Even if Robert had no recognition of these creatures, at least they were nearby.
On the shelf, the snakes pecked at the tops of their aquariums, eager to escape from the sealed glass cages. In the largest tank, a moccasin hovered over a bowl of water then disappeared in the branches and leaves. Against the wall, in a secure glass cage was the Eastern green mamba. In the past few weeks, Sam became comfortable near the snakes once she realized they wouldn’t harm her if she didn’t get too close or provoke them.
But she knew that today she’d need to provoke them. She stood a few inches from the poisonous snakes and peered into the cages. Then she approached Robert and stared at him for a few moments. She returned to the green mamba’s glass pen then lifted it and placed it onto the nightstand.
The mamba uncoiled its body and slithered closer to the top of the cage. Sam once again read the texts she and Robert exchange
d the day before his accident. Then she skimmed the message she’d read so many times: “If I swam in those huge waves, it’d be just my luck to end up breaking my neck and become paralyzed. If that happened, you might as well shoot me!”
Sam glanced at Robert—his glassy eyes fixated on nothing at all. Certain he couldn’t recognize that in these cages were his snakes, she hoped he at least noticed the difference between light and dark. Doctor Savage said Robert might react to light and dark by fluttering his eyelids but that he’d never respond to stimuli like touch or sound. Any time Sam touched him, he had no reaction at all.
His breathing became erratic. Sam glanced at the ventilator. She’d become accustomed to the occasional sputterings of breath. At first, right after they brought him home, she’d call in the nurse or her mother to see if his trach needed adjusting, but now she was used to this. She stared at him until his breathing leveled out. Then she again glanced at the texts Robert had sent months ago.
“It won’t be long, Robby. I promise,” she whispered then went to the mamba’s cage and tapped on the glass until it reared its head and slithered out a tongue.
Sam shook two tablets of Ativan out of the bottle and set them in a small bowl; then she used a spoon to turn the pills into a fine powder. She mixed the medication with a bit of water, forming a soupy liquid. She used a syringe to collect it and connected it to Robert’s G-tube. She slowly released the medication into the tube. Two hours before his next scheduled dose of Ativan, the double dose would keep Robert in a much more relaxed state. Within fifteen minutes, his eyes were completely shut.
“It’ll be fast, just like you told me years ago,” Sam whispered in his ear and pulled the covers off his body to reveal his bony legs.
Sam tapped on the mamba’s cage, angering the green serpent. She rapped on the glass one more time. The snake slithered closer to the top of the enclosure. She unclasped one side of the cage, pausing to peek through the window for any signs of her mother’s return. As her hands trembled, she gripped the snake tongs and unclasped the side of the cage. With the metal tongs, she captured the mamba around the neck. The serpent writhed as Sam held it over Robert’s torso, and then she released the deadly creature onto the bed. She prodded it with the end of the tongs—angering the mamba even more.
Her heart thudded faster while she witnessed the snake slithering down Robert’s legs and then coiling around his foot. Again, she prodded the creature until it pierced Robert’s skin with its sharp teeth. Robert lay there without any reaction to the bite. Sam remained a few feet away and stared at the green mamba, which had partially retreated under the sheets at the foot of the bed. She observed Robert for any signs of neural shut-down—anything more than his usual deteriorated neurological state.
After five minutes, Sam returned the mamba to its cage. She stared at Robert for a few minutes and studied his face. By now the neurotoxins had circulated into his heart and throughout his body. From what she’d read, Sam knew that the cardiotoxins would cause his heart to stop within thirty minutes, but she also recognized that the breathing machine would continue to pump air into his lungs—making him appear alive. Sam broke out in a cold sweat and pressed her back against the closed door and waited.
Once twenty minutes passed, Sam paced to the foot of the bed and then to the ventilator, which continued to pump air into Robert’s lungs. She stared at his face. His eyes were shut. He looked relaxed, his jaw slack. Sam set a finger against his neck to feel for a pulse. Lifeless, Robert looked calmer than he had in months. He was finally free.
Now that the venom had stopped Robert’s heart, Sam flipped the switch on the ventilator. There was no need to have artificial air pumping into his lungs if his heart had stopped beating. Sam set her hand on his bony chest. She sat next to him, his body remaining warm for several minutes. With the room so silent, all she heard was the churning of the Okatoma nearby. While she stared at Robert’s lifeless body, her tears flowed freely. An hour passed, and his skin became cool. Sam let out a long sigh—her breath the only sound heard above the creek.
Chapter Twenty-six
Mississippi: Spring 2015
THE LATE AFTERNOON sun cast silvery flecks over the surface of the Okatoma. Still in her black dress and heels from the funeral, Sam wandered next to the creek. She noticed the lush foliage along the shore. Bright pink blooms burst through the azalea shrubs. High atop the oak trees, a few chirping birds settled on the branches. Sam shaded her eyes and glanced up to see two greyish-blue robins perched on the limb nearest her. They continued to warble, each bird trying to outdo the other with their singing.
As she strolled along the creek, Sam noticed a pool of water sheltered between a half-circle of rocks. Years ago, she and Robert attempted to build a dam—the remains of it this small pool of still water near the shore where tiny tadpoles flitted in between the rocks. Sam crouched down with a stick and gently stirred the calm water. A swirl of dirt clouded it as the tadpoles disappeared along the rim of the creek.
Behind her, Sam heard muffled voices and laughter from friends, loved ones, and neighbors who came to pay their respects. The service this morning was standing room only as people swarmed in the back of the church. Mama’s house was not big enough to hold all the guests following the service, so many sat on the porch or in the yard while Pastor Dan grilled hamburgers and hotdogs. Mama baked a dozen pies, but the ladies at church tripled that amount once they heard there would be a reception following the funeral.
Sam settled her eyes on the creek once again. The sunlight reflected on the ripples and cast blinding light into her eyes. From behind her, Sam heard voices approaching. When she turned around, she noticed Travis and Annie tromping down the path. Both had heaps of food piled on plates and bottles of beer wedged under their arms.
Travis held out an amber bottle. “A Sam Adams for Sam?”
“You had anything to eat yet?” Annie asked and swallowed a forkful of potato salad then washed it down with a swig of beer.
“I’m not hungry,” Sam said and took a sip of Sam Adams. “But this’ll probably go down just fine.” She kicked off her heels then sat on a fallen log at the edge of the creek and peered across the shimmering water.
Travis stood behind her and clasped a hand on her shoulder. “How you holdin up, kiddo?”
Sam shrugged and took a long gulp of beer then wedged the bottle in the dirt. “Maybe after a couple of these, I’ll feel better.”
Annie sat to the left of Sam on the log; Travis opened another beer then sat to the right of her and finished the last of his hotdog. Overhead, the birds continued to warble in the trees. The guests nearby laughed and talked—their voices blending into a comforting murmur. Sam closed her eyes and relaxed her body into Annie’s.
“Sam, I know this might not be the best time to tell you this,” Annie said and set a hand on Sam’s arm, “but I got a call from Marsha right before the service. She told me Patterson has admitted to intentionally driving Robert’s truck off the bridge.”
“Crazy fucking bastard,” Travis murmured.
“Did he actually plead guilty?” Sam asked and stared straight ahead.
“No, they haven’t gotten that far yet.” Annie took another swig of beer then cleared her throat and continued. “The laws are pretty clear that a death caused by an accident that happened months prior can still be classified as murder, but since he confessed, I’d imagine it’ll be a pretty straightforward trial. Of course, it’d be easier if he ends up pleading guilty. Save us all time from having to go to trial, but Marsha says he’ll probably get life.”
“Life in prison?” Sam said, her voice shrill. “What does that even mean these days? Twenty-five years with early release for good behavior?”
“The guy should be put to death,” Travis said, his words loud and angry.
“He’ll likely get life without parole,” Annie said quietly.
Travis chugged more beer. “Don’t they have the electric chair in the South? They oughta fry that son
of a bitch.”
“They haven’t had the electric chair in Mississippi for a long time now,” Annie said and leaned in closer to Sam. “But I’m sure justice will be served. He’s never gonna get out of prison. He’ll never hurt anyone ever again.”
“Since he was solely responsible for Robert’s death, he needs to pay for what he’s done.” Travis took another swig of beer and shook his head then stared straight ahead.
Sam’s body tensed when she heard those words: solely responsible. Although it was true that she wouldn’t have done what she did two weeks ago if it hadn’t been for what Johnny did in the first place, she knew he was not solely responsible for Robert’s death. Sam stared at the steady current filtering by, acutely aware that there would always be secrets in Covington County that only she knew about. But Jane would go on feeling comforted that Robert passed peacefully that one afternoon. As a nurse, she probably assumed his heart simply stopped that day, a likely complication of the extensive neurological damage caused by the accident. Sam recalled how a sense of calm washed over her when she felt Robert’s body go cold, how she knew he was finally free.
The three of them sat quietly and sipped their beer. Sam was aware that by this time of the year, the water moccasins and copperheads were no longer hibernating and could be found slithering around this area. Usually so watchful for the venomous serpents, she didn’t feel as terrified of encountering them. No longer a frightened kid, she now realized they were probably as scared of her as she was of them.
“Travis, did you know this is where I got over my fear of water?” Sam waved both arms out toward the glistening creek. “Robert taught me to not be afraid of the rough current or anything that might be lurking under the surface.”
Saving Sam Page 26