by Julie Hall
“My name is Audrey.” Another full sentence.
“Well, Audrey, I’m Mrs. London. But you can call me by my first name, Celeste.”
35
Hope
I was scaring my mom, I know I was, but it couldn’t be helped. After our brief talk, I’d asked Mrs. London—Celeste—if it would be okay if I visited Logan again. She’d smiled and said that would be nice and promised to add me to the list of allowed visitors. I’d then asked for a nurse to take me back to my room—more from mental exhaustion than physical.
I’d hardly said two words since.
My mother wasn’t dumb. She knew something was up, and in true Mom-fashion, she was trying to shove food down my throat to make whatever was bothering me better. I’d only been able to eat a few bites of the feast she’d bought at a local eatery. After months of complaining about hospital cuisine, I should have been shoveling the food in my mouth, but now eating was like trying to swallow ash. Anything that made it down just soured in my stomach.
I finally pushed the food away, claiming to have a headache and needing sleep, which only worried my mom even more. I faintly heard her in the background trying to track down my doctor and checking up on my physical therapy sessions. I knew I should be putting her mind at ease, but I needed some time.
Logan’s mom had told the story of a car crash. He’d been in the backseat of a car that had rolled off the highway and then several hundred feet down a steep embankment.
Logan had been rushed into surgery for several broken and shattered bones, but though he had healed from those injuries, he’d never woken up. He’d sustained a major head injury during the accident.
Three others had been in the same car. The driver, one of Logan’s childhood friends, was now a quadriplegic. The front passenger had escaped with only minor injuries, which was a miracle considering the damage to the car.
And the fourth passenger had lost her life. The fourth passenger had been Kaitlin, the girl whom Logan had his arm around in the picture where I first recognized him.
Kaitlin was in fact dead, not in a state of limbo like Logan and me. Or had been in. Or rather, that he was still in, and I no longer was.
My head ached with the desire to make sense of it all. How was it Logan and I had been in the afterlife even as our bodies remained anchored to Earth?
I spent the late afternoon and into the evening replaying all I could remember about the heavenly realm. When I’d first arrived, Joe had never confirmed that I had died. I came to that conclusion myself. Now I found myself wondering about my memories—questioning them. How much of it had been real? Any of it? Some of it had to be, how else would I have known Logan and Kaitlin at all?
And there were little details that made sense now. Like why the zombie trees had reached for me . . . they’d recognized the Earthly life still in me where the rest had none. The revelation was small, but being able to make sense of anything right now was a comfort.
But what did this mean for Logan? Was this the real reason why the two of us seemed to have extraordinary supernatural powers? Him with his electric lightning and me with the flaming sword. Had we been singled out because we were living in the land of the dead?
I put two hands to my head and pressed against the raging headache. I might never know the answer to these questions. Most of all, I wanted to know if Logan knew now, or if he’d known then, that he was lying prone in a hospital bed.
My instincts said he didn’t know. But I couldn’t just ask him. Our ability to communicate was completely gone.
I knew nothing.
A ball of anger swirled in my gut. I contained the churning emotion to that space, but I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to ward it off. Why was none of this explained? Why was I left in the dark? If the Creator was good and cared for me, why was He putting me through this second heartbreak?
Logan was in one way so close to me, but in another, he was just as far as he’d been since I’d woken up back on Earth.
After several minutes of talking, Celeste had finally confessed that the doctors hadn’t given any hope of Logan waking, but she didn’t believe that to be true.
I knew miracles could happen, but I also knew that just because the Creator had the power to wield them didn’t mean he was going to.
In this case, I didn’t even know what to hope for.
But I knew that I’d visit Logan again. Or the shell that used to be him. I knew he wasn’t really inside there anymore . . . but maybe, one day, he would be again.
“I made four laps around the track today. And I stink pretty bad right now, but it’s not like you haven’t seen me look worse.” Three weeks had passed, and his condition had stayed the same.
I held Logan’s warm but listless hand in mine and prayed he’d show some sign of recognition. If I could command his soul to his body by sheer will alone, he’d already be back with me.
“No throwing up so far though, so I guess I have it easier here than . . . the other place.”
My speech had drastically improved over the last several weeks. I spent at least two hours a day visiting and talking to Logan. Some days Celeste would be there and I’d talk to her instead. I was pretty sure my one-sided conversations with her son would freak her out. There was a part of me that believed I could talk him awake.
So far I’d been proven wrong, but I was willing to spend the rest of my life trying if that’s what it took.
“But there’s no one here taking bets on whether or not I’m going to toss my breakfast, so it doesn’t quite feel the same . . . well, except this one kid, but he really annoys me. There’s a makeshift viewing gallery on the sixth floor, and you know how I hate to make a fool of myself in front of others, so that pushes me more than Jared probably realizes. If I tell you how handsome Jared is, will it make you jealous enough to wake up?” I imagined pressure on my hand that wasn’t there. “Yeah, I didn’t think so, but it was worth a try. How about I tell you a little about my plans?”
Unbeknownst to my parents, I’d already started to scheme ways I could stay in the area. I knew they expected me to go home with them next month. The current plan was to keep up some of my therapy at home and also finish high school. I was a year behind, but I was a good student and only needed a few classes to actually graduate. We’d already worked out an agreement with my old school that I would take those few classes at home and then officially graduate after the first semester. The school was bending over backward to help me out, and I appreciated it, I did, but things had changed.
Whether he was conscious or not, there was no way I was leaving Logan’s side. Not when I’d found him again.
So I’d been working on an alternative plan my parents didn’t know about. One that they absolutely weren’t going to like, but considering I was legally an adult, they couldn’t do anything to stop me.
The only thing I hadn’t worked out was money. I was going to need it if I was going to stay on the West Coast instead of flying back to the Midwest with my family. I still wanted to graduate high school and then eventually go to college, but if I was going to stay in the area, I needed to find a place to live. And apartments required rent. I was going to have to find a job and work.
I could do it, I knew I could. Living out here would be hard, but I would make it work. I was determined. I would live on my own, finish high school, apply to nearby colleges, and spend all my spare time with Logan.
This was going to happen.
If he ever opened his eyes, I was going to be one of the first faces he saw. And if he didn’t, I would still be here to grow old with him.
I knew he would be willing to make the same sacrifices for me . . . even though I wouldn’t want him to. I’d want him to live out a long and happy life. He’d probably want the same for me, but if that was the case, he was going to have to open those beautiful blue eyes and tell me himself. Otherwise, I was going to be sitting by his side for a long time to come.
“So basically, if you don’t want me ge
tting butt sores from sitting in this chair so long, you’re going to have to come back to me.” I sighed and shifted in the chair, running a hand through my shortened locks.
Watching Logan lie motionless was only marginally easier than when I first learned whose room I’d trespassed into. Now that I knew the figure was him, I saw the Logan I knew through the gaunt features of the person in front of me. His appearance was vastly different than my memory, but if I looked hard enough, I could find him.
“Audrey, it’s so nice to see you again.”
I looked up to see Celeste stroll elegantly into the room. She sat on the couch to my left.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Celeste. Here, you can switch with me.” I moved to stand, but she waved me off.
“Don’t be silly. We both know he’d rather have a pretty girl holding his hand than his mother.”
We both chuckled as I resettled in my seat. We chit-chatted for a while as I worked up the courage to ask the question that had been scratching at the back of my mind. I should have just let go of my curiosity, but it nagged at me.
When we hit a natural break in our conversation, I took a deep breath and went with it.
“Celeste, I know this isn’t my place to ask, but . . .” Oh, I should really just leave this be.
I chewed my lip in indecision.
“It’s all right, sweetie.” She turned her head to the side. “What do you want to ask?”
I bunched my eyebrows and released my lip. “I was just wondering if Mr. London ever visited. I know I’m not here all the time, so maybe I just keep missing him, but . . .” I took a breath; all of that came out really quickly. “I was just wondering, I guess.”
Logan had mentioned that his parents were together, but perhaps something had changed since his accident. It so wasn’t my business, but the absence of his father nagged at me.
“Oh.” She sat back against the couch, her body sagging in on itself. Her face fell, and she suddenly looked extremely tired.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.” But I still wanted to know. I looked down at where I gently clasped Logan’s hand, embarrassed that I’d brought up what was obviously a touchy subject. Now my mind was going wild with possibilities.
“No, it’s all right, Audrey. Logan’s father . . .” I glanced up.
She was visibly trying to compose herself.
Oh my gosh, they were divorced now. That must be it. This was so awkward. I should have just done some internet research instead.
She took a deep breath before continuing, “Logan’s father and I don’t agree on Logan’s care.”
I snapped my head up to watch her more closely. That was not where I’d thought this conversation was going.
“He doesn’t think that Logan should be cared for in this way, so he refuses to visit.” Celeste’s eyes started to tear.
I became lightheaded as the blood drained from my face.
Logan’s father didn’t want his son on life support. Logan’s father wanted his son to die. His mother kept him alive, hoping that he’d come around someday despite what the doctors said.
“You have to understand,” she went on quickly. “Richard, Logan’s father, loved—loves Logan very much. But seeing him like this is just too much for him. And we just have vastly different opinions on Logan’s treatment. It’s just too hard for him to visit because whenever he does and he sees Logan, the way he is now, it just . . .” She let the sentence drop.
“He wants to let him die,” I quietly mumbled.
“He doesn’t see it that way. He thinks Logan is already gone.” She sounded incredibly weary. As if this were an argument they’d had often. The beat-down tone in her voice scared me. They couldn’t do it. I’d lose him all over again. I couldn’t survive that.
“No”—the strength and volume of my voice startled her—“you can’t let him do that. You can’t. You have to fight for him. He can wake up. I know it.”
Celeste’s eyes opened wide. I knew the conviction in my voice did not match the story of a girl who had just gotten a few surfing lessons from her son and now visited out of a sense of kinship. But I couldn’t stop the words tumbling from my lips.
“You have to keep him alive. Look at me. I woke up. He can too.”
She blinked at me. “I know, dear. I believe that too. Despite what everyone says, miracles happen every day. But I do have to wonder . . .” That pause scared me. “What if keeping him like this is the wrong thing to do? What if he’s suffering?”
“He’s not.” I was quick to answer.
Her brow furrowed and then smoothed out again. A small, albeit sad, smile graced her lovely face. Logan had definitely picked up some of her features, just in a more masculine form. “It’s all right Audrey. I understand.” She understood nothing. “But not everyone is as fortunate as you. Don’t worry yourself about it. You have a bright future ahead of you.”
Don’t worry about it? Now it would be the only thing I did worry about.
Should I try to explain to her what had happened to me while I was in a coma? What had happened to Logan? Would she even believe me?
Probably not. Who would believe such a story?
I squeezed Logan’s hand and closed my eyes, silently pleading with the Creator not to take him from me a second time.
36
Changed Plans
“Audrey, this makes no sense.” My dad’s eyebrows bunched together in concern and confusion. He paced back and forth on the linoleum floor of my small room. I sat patiently in a chair by the window, waiting for him to calm down. My mother stood on the side of my bed, wringing her hands as she watched my father.
I’d royally botched breaking the news that I had no plans to leave the area. Or maybe there was no good way to drop that bomb? They knew I’d been regularly visiting one of the other patients, but they thought I was just doing so out of a sense of kindness. An assumption I didn’t bother to correct them about.
How was I supposed to explain that I knew a patient who had lived on the other side of the country from us and spent the last four years in a coma?
They’d never believe me.
Now they just thought I’d developed a weird—and unhealthy—obsession. I can’t say I blamed them. They didn’t have all the information, so my actions did seem rash and nonsensical.
“I’m so sorry. I know this doesn’t make any sense to you guys. But I need . . .” I struggled to find the right words. What could I possibly say to make them understand?
“Audrey”—my mom rounded the bed and took my hand—“we’re so close to getting you back again. Your father and I are both here to bring you home. Sweetie, you still have therapy to undergo, classes. We have everything set up for you at home. Not to mention the fact that we want you back with us. We almost lost you once.” Her eyes filled with tears. “This feels like we’re losing you a second time.”
Her response broke my heart. “Oh, Mom, you’ll never lose me. I’ll always be your daughter. This is just . . . It’s just something I have to do. I promise I’ve thought it through. I’m still going to keep up with classes and physical therapy, but I need to stay here. I know it doesn’t make sense to you. I get it, I really do.”
An idea came to me. I wasn’t sure if it would make a difference, but maybe it would help a little. “What if you come with me to visit Logan today? You’ve not met him yet.”
“What do you think that will accomplish?” my father asked.
I turned to look at him, chewing my bottom lip. “Don’t you want to meet him?”
“Audrey, we wouldn’t really be meeting him. We’d be—”
“Honey”—my mother squeezed my hand and shot my father a wide-eyed look—“I think that would be a good idea. Let’s meet this boy you’re willing to turn your life upside-down for.”
I sucked in a huge breath of air. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
It was visiting hours, but that didn’t explain why Logan’s room was packed full of medical p
rofessionals. A wall of them hovered around his body, and several others were milling around the room with their heads down, writing on charts or tablets. What was happening? My heart jumped in my chest.
Is he finally—
“Audrey.” My thoughts were cut off by Celeste’s surprised voice. Her eyes were red rimmed, but she was clearly trying to keep her composure. “I didn’t think you’d visit until later today.”
“Um.” A million questions ran through my head. “I wanted my parents to meet Logan. I hope that’s okay.” I glanced around the room again. People were talking in hushed voices, and I couldn’t pick up any of the conversations. “What’s . . . what’s going on?”
Celeste wrung her hands, and her gaze darted left and right. “Maybe it would be better if you came back later today. Then we can talk.”
“Is Logan okay? Why are all these people here?”
“I can tell you about that—”
“Is this the young lady you spoke to me about?” A man dressed in a grey business suit laid a hand on Celeste’s lower back. He had brown hair that was sprinkled with salt-and-pepper patches around his ears. Logan’s mother was already a tall woman, but this man towered over her by several inches, even in her signature heels. She looked up at him with worried eyes and then nodded. His expression was stern but not uncaring.
“Yes, Richard, this is Audrey. She’s been visiting Logan for the last few months. He gave her surfing lessons . . . before the accident.”
Logan’s father? What was he doing here?
“What?” I heard my dad ask behind me.
Oh, shoot. He knew I’d never been to this side of the country before. I hadn’t lied to anyone, but I certainly hadn’t thought this meeting through very well.
I took a closer look at Logan’s father and started to see bits of his son in him. The slant of their eyebrows were the same. His eyes were green rather than Logan’s blue, but the shape was similar. They had broad shoulders and a tapered waist as well as that impressive height. He looked to be in his late forties, but he obviously still took care of himself. I had a wave of longing to know what Logan would look like at his father’s age. Healthy, whole, and living life together with me.
