Possessed (Pagan Light Book 1)
Page 8
Jackie had a feeling that the woman had cancer. Her disease tasted like soured milk. The back of her throat tightened. She tried to hold back the urgency to gag.
Mom put her arm around Jackie’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Let go of my daughter.”
Not letting go of Jackie’s hand, the woman stood up. “Please, heal me.”
“Let go of her,” Mom yelled. “Manager!”
Some of the shoppers peered out from the aisles.
Jackie’s bones tickled, and she envisioned them turning to mush. She couldn’t hold back the feeling to gag.
Mom pushed the woman. “Let go of her.”
The woman clawed at Jackie’s jacket trying to hold onto her.
Jackie slipped out of her coat and dropped to the floor. The pressure in the back of her throat made her heave. Bent over on her hands and knees, she spewed bits of Lucky Charms and milk onto the polished floor. Saliva dripped from her mouth. Her eyes were wet from the force of heaving, and her vision was blurred. She looked up at the woman, who crossed herself and then disappeared down an aisle.
In the car, Mom leaned her head against the steering wheel and cried. Jackie squeezed a wad of paper towels in her hand and vowed she was going to go to school on Monday and go about with her life as normally as she could. If anything happened or was bothering her, she would keep it inside, hidden from Mom.
It was out of her control when Nurse Seneca had called Mom. Jackie had expected Mom to fall apart again. But she didn’t. There was just something weird about her mood. Almost like she was overjoyed to be a mom again. Almost. Jackie couldn’t help but sense that there was something else going on with her. It was almost like she was—in love.
Chapter 15
Mom’s glow ignited a spark of hope inside Jackie that Jason would show up after her shift at Photo Junction and things would be back to normal between them. She was going to go to work today.
While Mom examined her eyes in the bathroom, Jackie took it as the perfect opportunity to beat her to the paper.
The front porch and stairs were wet from dew, and the paper was miraculously lying on the landing. She stooped to snatch it. Standing up, she noticed streams of toilet paper hanging from the maple tree in the front yard.
At the base of the tree was a shrine of the Virgin Mary propped upside down. It looked like the neighbor’s cement shrine, the one with the Virgin inside the grotto. Surrounding it were three plastic devil spears shoved into the ground, prongs sticking upward. On the tree trunk, written in red spray paint, “Liars go to hell.”
Without thinking, she made the sign of the cross like Babu did when she saw something spiritually disturbing. Jackie didn’t want Babu to see this. She held onto the rail and moved as quickly as she could down the wet steps in Babu’s old, slick-bottomed house shoes. She slipped and came down hard on her butt, and her back hit the edge of a step. She had forgotten that the third step from the bottom was always extra slippery when wet because of the algae that had accumulated there.
“Bozhe moy!” Babu cried.
Standing on the front porch, Babu crossed herself just like Jackie had done. Babu threw her hands over her heart and ranted in Russian, gasping in between ecstatic phrases.
“Babu, go back in the house. I’m okay. Go, Babu.”
Mom poked her head out the door. “What’s going on?”
“Take Babu inside,” Jackie said. “I’ll take care of this.”
Mom put her arms around Babu’s shoulder and steered her inside the house.
Jackie pulled the spears out of the ground and threw them onto the wet lawn. Streams of toilet paper waved over her head.
She tried to lift the shrine. Her fingers scraped against its rough surface. It was made of concrete and was too heavy to lift. She tipped it over, thinking that maybe she could roll it to the side of the house so Babu couldn’t see it. It just missed her toes and landed with the Virgin facing the ground.
She dropped to her knees; the moist ground soaked into her pant legs and cooled her skin. There must have been quite a few people involved in this, male, at least, and strong. The only man she had to call for help was Dad, but she couldn’t. Not for this. This was all he needed to start a war between him and Mom again and to make him hate Jackie more.
“Jackie,” Mom screamed. She was in the doorway—phone in her hand. “Babu’s having a heart attack.”
Jackie darted up the stairs, slipped on that same slick step, and banged her knee, but her adrenaline was pumped, so she really didn’t feel a thing.
“I called 9-1-1,” Mom said.
Inside the kitchen, Babu was pressing her hands to her chest and wheezing. Sweat beads dotted her forehead and temples.
Jackie didn’t think Babu could make it to the couch without overexerting herself and making things worse. “Can you lie down?” she asked her, tilting her head onto pillowed hands and pointing to the floor so Babu would understand her.
Before Jackie could take Babu’s arm and help her to the floor, Babu crashed to her knees and fell onto her shoulder. Jackie stooped and rolled Babu onto her back. She put her ear by Babu’s mouth and nose. Then she pressed her ear to Babu’s chest. Her chest was silent; her body, lifeless.
“She’s not breathing!”
Suddenly, the air was sucked out of the room. When Jackie breathed, she couldn’t fill her lungs enough to satisfy them. Fingers spread on thighs and head lowered, she fought the shortness of breath that was overtaking her.
“Jackie, don’t panic,” Mom said. “You can’t help Babu if you panic.” She stooped beside her and rubbed her back. “Relax, Baby. You have to relax.”
Jackie knew what Mom was worried about. Mom was worried she would take on Babu’s ailment and have a heart attack, too, or lose consciousness. And she was right. That was exactly what was about to happen, and Mom, not knowing CPR, wouldn’t be able to help either of them.
She shook the thought of Babu dying and instead, filled her inner vision with giving Babu CPR and reviving her. She took deep, full breaths until she gained control. Then, she pressed the heels of her hands into Babu’s chest and pumped.
Feet trampled the front porch steps. Mom directed two paramedics with huge, blue bags into the kitchen.
“Let me in,” one paramedic said.
She jumped out of the way and let him take over CPR as the other set up the heart monitor.
The paramedic pressed the palms of his large hands against Babu’s chest. Ribs snapped and popped.
Jackie grabbed her chest and dropped into a kitchen chair. Her ribs ached, and her chest tightened. The heart monitor flatlined. The paramedic leaning over Babu continued to pump her chest while the other inserted a needle into her arm.
They worked on Babu’s lifeless body—one giving her CPR, and the other administering drugs to get her heart going. Mom touched Jackie’s shoulder, but Jackie, her body numb, couldn’t feel her.
The heart monitor bleeped, and then continued to do so, steadily.
“She’s breathing,” the paramedic who’d been giving CPR said.
Jackie caught her breath.
The other paramedic put an air mask over Babu’s nose and mouth.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Jackie said to the paramedics.
They ignored her gratitude and worked quickly to lift Babu onto a stretcher and strap her down. As they hauled her down the front porch steps, Jackie warned them about the third step. When they put Babu into the ambulance, she rushed to get dressed, and then she and Mom drove to Mercy Hospital.
***
At the hospital, Jackie and Mom sat in the ER waiting room.
“Who would do such a thing?” Mom asked.
On TV, a woman was punching another who had slept with her boyfriend. The other woman made a protective shell around her head with her hands.
“I don’t know, Mom.”
“Have you made any enemies lately?”
“Obviously.”
“Well, who? We have to tell the
police.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Let me go down the list: I pissed off Jason the other day. He’s not talking to me now. Trish sided with him. Called me a cold-hearted bitch, or something like that. Sandra thinks I’m trying to steal Will away. And God knows who else I may have pissed off when I passed out in the C-building bathroom—the janitor maybe?”
“You’ve been busy.”
“I move people in mysterious ways. I’m gifted like that.”
A nurse approached them. “Can either of you speak Russian?”
She and Mom shook their heads.
“We’ll have to call an interpreter, then,” the nurse said.
“This won’t hold up Babu’s treatment, will it?” Mom asked.
“No, not at all. We’re monitoring her heart now, but we’d like to know how she’s feeling. We also need an interpreter to present her with her options.”
“Good luck with that,” Mom said. “You’re going to need more than an interpreter.”
About a half hour later, they followed the nurse through two huge automatic doors and into the emergency area. Along the perimeter were curtained rooms. The nurse pulled back a curtain by the room labeled 2A. Babu was lying in a hospital bed. Her sleepy eyes looked up at them. Wires ran from her chest area, under the blue hospital gown, to the ECG machine. The machine rhythmically bleeped.
Jackie rubbed Babu’s hand. It was cold, and the light she always saw around Babu was dim. “I’m so sorry, Babu.”
“The doctor will see you in a bit,” the nurse said.
When the doctor came in, he told them he wanted to run other tests. Jackie and Mom sat for nearly an hour while Babu was wheeled away for an angiogram. After the staff wheeled her back into the room, Jackie and Mom waited for the angiogram and blood tests to be processed and reviewed by the doctor.
They had to keep telling Babu to relax. She wanted to go home. She didn’t trust doctors.
Finally, the doctor told them that Babu had high cholesterol, one of her coronary arteries was narrowing, and they would need to do surgery to open it up.
All this because of some vandals, Jackie thought. All this because she lied five years ago about seeing the Virgin.
Mom explained to the doctor that Babu was nearly ninety years old and she has been healthy as a horse until now, that having surgery may kill her, and no one is available to explain this to Babu.
The doctor said that the interpreter was on the way.
Jackie and Mom sat with Babu another hour and a half, waiting and discussing Babu’s options between themselves. The funny thing was, they knew what Babu was going to say. No pills. No surgery. No hospital.
Finally, the curtain parted and the nurse walked in with the interpreter. A mixture of surprise and dread socked Jackie in the gut.
David Davidovich, dressed in a cassock and black slacks, looked at her and smiled, the corners of his mouth dimpling in delight. “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” he said. “Yes?”
She grimaced. No. Definitely not. It was just that her life had turned to shit.
“Ms. Turov,” the nurse said to Mom, “this is David Davidovich. He’s our volunteer interpreter.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mom said. By the look in her eyes and the sound of her voice, Jackie believed she was very pleased to meet David. “Uh, this is my daughter, Jackie.”
His knowing eyes focused on Jackie. “We already met.”
Of course he’d be honest.
“You have?” Mom looked at her and then at David and smiled.
David directed an open hand toward Babu. “So, this is your great-grandmother, and neither of you can communicate with her?” He clucked his tongue.
It felt so weird to be on the same team as Mom. She felt like a complete flunky.
“Zdravstvuyte,” David said to Babu. “Menya zovut David Davidovich.”
Babu’s tired eyes widened, and she glowed with delight. She started talking and stopped only to let David get in a quick word or two here and there.
What is this? Mom and Babu are infatuated with David.
When the doctor came in, he and David worked together to explain Babu’s health to her. Babu waved her hand like she didn’t want to hear about it. Like it was nothing. Like her heart attack as no more than a hiccup or yawn.
Jackie sidled beside David, but kept enough distance between so they wouldn’t touch shoulders. David exuded a lot of energy. It was empowering, but too strong at a close distance. “What’s she saying?”
“She wants to go home,” he said. “No surgery. No doctors.”
She sighed. Maybe they should let Babu say what’s best for her. After all, she’d lived this long. But what if something happened because she didn’t go for surgery? She couldn’t forgive herself, or Mom, if it did.
“Ya lyublyu tebya, Babu,” she said to her in Russian.
“I thought you could not speak Russian,” David said.
“I can’t. Pretty much all I can tell her is ‘I love you’ and ‘thank you for the soup.’”
Babu reached under the fold of her hospital gown and tugged at the plugs on her chest.
“No, Babu.” She grabbed Babu’s hands to make her stop. “You have to stay. David? Tell her.” His name sounded awkward in her mouth. Calling him Father would have been worse.
A slight grin formed on his face, and he peered at her with raised eyebrows.
She diverted her gaze to the bed rail. “Could you tell her she has to stay a day or two?”
He didn’t answer, so she looked at him.
“How about this?” he said. “If I do this for you, you do something for me.”
“You’re going to bargain with me?”
Mom touched her shoulder. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”
“Mom!”
Mom waved at her and left the room.
Holy shit! She left us together.
“Your impression,” David said.
“You know this isn’t fair. I mean, you’re the translator here. You’re supposed to do your job.”
He pressed his hand to his chest. “I do this service out of the goodness of my heart. I am a servant of God. Perhaps you will do something, not for me, but for God.”
How dare he go there? “I really don’t think God needs my services.”
“Why?”
“Trust me with that.”
Babu started ranting in Russian and moaning every time she tried to sit up.
“Babu, no,” she said. “You have to stay.”
David touched the curtain.
“I don’t believe this. You’re actually going to leave?”
Babu pointed to the plastic bag on the hook across the room that was stuffed with her clothes and said something to her in Russian that sounded like an imperative.
“No,” she said. “Absolutely not. You’re staying here.”
“You have my card,” David said. “Call me if you change your mind.” He disappeared behind the curtain.
“Ugh! You bastard.”
Babu commanded her again in Russian.
“All right,” she hollered. “I’ll go.”
The curtain parted. David stepped back into the room—a sly smile on his face.
What a devil. He knew she’d change her mind.
“Allow me.” He stood beside the hospital bed and worked his charm on Babu.
At that point, Jackie really didn’t care what she had bargained—anything was worth saving Babu.
Chapter 16
Jackie and David walked down the hospital corridor.
“You really have a way with Babu,” she said. “I thought, for sure, we’d have to restrain her.”
“She is stubborn, like you.” He winked at her.
She grimaced.
Mom was in the ER waiting room watching a soap opera.
“I’m going to grab a cup of coffee,” she told Mom. “I’ll meet you at home.”
Mom looked at David and then at her. “With—”
Jackie signaled
with her hand for her stop. “It’s just coffee.”
Outside, David led her to a silver Honda.
“No bike?” she asked.
“Too slippery this morning. Father Dmitriev let me borrow the car.” David opened the passenger door, grabbed his backpack from off the seat, and held the door for her.
She felt like she was being lured into a trap, but she got in anyway.
David adjusted his cassock as he slid into the driver’s seat. He set down his phone on the center compartment and turned down the volume on the car’s audio system. He was young and too handsome to ever become a priest. Like, what a waste. She tried to imagine him in street clothes. He turned the key in the ignition and smiled at her. She was glad he couldn’t read her thoughts, but still, she had to be careful. She was sure he was having no problem reading her body language and facial expressions. He seemed very intuitive, very people centered.
David drove the Honda out of the hospital parking lot. “So why the change of heart?” he asked.
“You set me up, that’s why.”
He laughed. “No. I mean, why the black clothes and fingernails?”
She looked at his cassock. “You have a problem with black?”
“I guess the color of clothes does not matter, but something has turned you away from God and church.”
How dare he ask? She turned away and gazed out the window at the small-town shops they passed. The most excitement this town had ever known was due to her. How much did David already know?
“You do not want to talk about it,” he said. “That is okay. Maybe another time.”
She forced a smile. “So, what’s on the playlist?”
“Judas Priest.”
Her mouth dropped open. Judas Priest may be way before her time, but she knew they played something like heavy metal.
He laughed. “I am joking.”
She felt like an idiot for taking him seriously. She typically wasn’t easily duped. It must be the cassock that made her believe every word he said.
David made a left onto Lancaster and then parallel parked in front of Holy Resurrection. It was a modest building with a white canopy over the entrance, narrow arched windows, and three gold cupolas, a cross on each one. Her stomach tightened.