Please, please let there be some sign of recognition, she mentally pleaded.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “The new century passed twenty-six years ago.”
Wait a minute. Maybe that gash on his temple had given him amnesia or something. “Ah, I don’t think so, Charlie. It’s only two thousand one.”
He stared back at her as though she were the demented one. “I beg to differ, ma’am. It’s nineteen twenty-six by my calendar.”
She took a deep breath, as she felt another contraction begin its slow grip on her. “Please, Charlie, you can’t have a nervous breakdown on me now. If anyone on this planet deserves one, it’s me, and if I can’t have one, you can’t either. Got it? Now, get ready, the light is about to change.”
She watched as he blinked a few times, as though he were attempting to digest her words, and then he noticed the other cars on either side of them. “Got it?” she repeated, hoping he wasn’t going to completely freak out on her. As the traffic light changed, the car behind them beeped its horn.
She nearly jumped with fright as he suddenly spun around, tore the diaper from his head, grabbed the steering wheel and slammed his foot onto the accelerator. The car raced ahead of the others and Suzanne, shocked by his sudden take-charge attitude, once more clutched the seat for balance and held her breath.
Charlie was right about one thing: This was definitely surreal.
As he maneuvered through three more traffic lights, weaving around cars and lane changes, and finally a jug handle that took them across the highway, she continuously reminded herself to remain calm and to keep breathing. Through all her instructions, he never said another word or even looked back at her. The man appeared almost automated and did only as he was directed. Within ten minutes they pulled in front of the hospital as a mixture of pain and relief spread over Suzanne and tears streamed down her cheeks. She had never in her life been on such a crazy ride, but he had done it. “Stop there, where it says ‘Emergency,’ “ she instructed, feeling her heartbeat in her ears.
They came to a halt right by the door and he turned off the ignition. The car died without being put into park and he then sat frozen, just staring out the front window, as though in shock.
“Yo, Charlie?”
Her voice seemed to snap him out of it and he bolted out of the car to help her.
“Yes. We’re here now. The doctors can help you.”
As the car door opened, she looked into his green eyes and smiled with relief. “Thank you, Charles Garitty,” she whispered with a sigh. “You did it. You’re my hero.”
He appeared slightly self-conscious as he held out his hand to her. “Come along now, don’t turn all mushy on me. I was rather fond of that feisty side of you.” His smile was almost tender and meant to be reassuring.
Suzanne awkwardly slid toward the door and nearly collapsed against his arm. She felt as though everything was rushing out of her when she stood upright. “I’m so sorry for all this,” she gasped in embarrassment. “You know, you should have someone look at your head while you’re here.”
“Forget about my head. It’s stopped bleeding anyway.” He wrapped his arms around her and, practically holding her body up, he moved slowly with her exhausted pace. “Careful, there’s a step up here.”
Suzanne looked down to see the yellow painted curb and gingerly stepped up.
“Besides, I really think someone needs to take care of you,” he added with a smile.
It was his last words, spoken so honestly, that did her in as everything she had been holding back came to the surface. She couldn’t help it. She started crying, really crying. “Yes. I need somebody to take care of me, Charlie,” she sobbed, knowing she sounded pathetic, yet unable to stop the fear from spreading through her body. “Right now I have no one.”
His arm around her shoulder tightened. “Where’s your husband?”
“Probably off with my best friend. He left me for her today. Just told me he’s in love with my best friend and… oh God,” she gasped, as another deep contraction took control of her body.
“Somebody help us here!” he yelled to the large glass doors.
He stopped and stared at them as they slid open and attendants rushed to close the space. “Amazing,” he breathed.
Suzanne didn’t have time to analyze his reaction as she was put into a wheelchair and rushed into the emergency area. Reaching behind, she shouted, “Don’t leave, Charlie. Stay with me… for a while… please?”
A male nurse turned to him and said, “Everything’s under control now, sir. But you’re going to have to move your car. It’s in an unloading zone.”
“Charlie!” Suzanne hated that her voice sounded so scared. The moment she had been praying for was here, and now she was terrified of what awaited her. She always thought her husband and her best friend would be there for support. Neither of those choices were available now. She truly was all alone, except for this extremely strange man who had appeared out of nowhere. She turned in the chair and looked back for a friendly face.
When their eyes met it was as though he read her thoughts, for the knot in Charles’s stomach tightened as he glared back at the man in the light green smock. “You move it. I’m not leaving her.”
“Sir, you can be with your wife as soon as she’s been examined and put in a labor room. Now you’ll have to move your car immediately, or it will be towed.”
Denied access to the building and left to watch dumbly as Suzanne was taken beyond another set of doors, Charles suddenly felt helpless. His mind raced back to when she’d found him by the water. She’d saved his life. Even though he’d only just met her, his integrity told him he owed Suzanne a lot more. Charles Garitty had never been the kind of man to leave anyone who’d asked for his help, and he wasn’t about to start now. Ignoring the man in the doorway, Charles stepped forward.
“Wait. It seems you’ve been hurt yourself,” the man said, raising his hand in an attempt to stop him.
Glancing down at the man’s hand on his shoulder, Charles then stared hard at the man’s face. “I’m fine. She needs my help. I’m going to her now.”
“Please, sir,” the man said sympathetically, dropping his hand, but still blocking the doorway. “Babies are born every day. It’s going to take a little while to prep your wife, but she’ll be fine. All you’ve got to do is park your car over there,” he said, pointing in the direction, “where it says ‘Visitor Parking,’ and then come right back.”
Charles looked over to where the man had instructed. It didn’t seem too far away.
“And when you come back, I’ll get you a bandage and you can use the men’s room to clean up your wound. Afterward, you can be with her again, I promise.”
Charles looked back at the man. “All right,” he relented. After all, he mentally reasoned, she was in a hospital with doctors, and he really didn’t want to cause any trouble since he was in very unfamiliar territory. He nodded his thanks and turned back to the car.
Within minutes he had managed to park between two white lines in a huge open area and was now standing at a sink with a faucet and no knobs in the men’s room of the hospital. The male nurse had given him a thin bandage wrapped in paper, and another clear package with what appeared to be a cotton ball soaked in brown liquid. Ignoring his own disheveled reflection in the mirror, he tore open the cotton ball with antiseptic, at least that’s what he hoped it was, as it began staining his fingers. Dabbing at his forehead, he grit his teeth and inhaled as the stinging sensation began.
Damn Mitch, he thought, and couldn’t suppress the hiss as more medicine entered the cut. Dismissing the pain, he blotted up the excess liquid around the gash and then tore open the bandage. Before putting it on, he wouldn’t mind wiping his face to get some of the blood off it, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how to turn on the water without any knobs. To his surprise when he simply touched the bottom of the faucet to examine it, water came pouring out—all by itself!
Shaking his head, he bent down and splashed water over his face and neck, hoping it would provide some clarity to his situation. Okay, he didn’t know where he was, but maybe he could rationalize how he’d gotten here. He mentally began recounting the facts as he knew them to be. He and Mitch had been taking some measurements on the land he’d just purchased, and were walking back to town. They were discussing how many trees to start with in the lower portion of the orchard. Then, while crossing the trestle railroad bridge, Mitch suddenly pulled a gun from his jacket and demanded the property deed. Charles again shook his head with disbelief. If he weren’t so confused now, he’d have the strength to be angry. Splashing more water on his face, he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply as the pain of his longtime friend’s betrayal began to sink in.
Slowly looking up at his reflection in the mirror, he saw beads of water dripping from his face as his mind flashed back to the Rancocas Creek. He remembered turning and jumping, all the while praying he wouldn’t be torn to pieces by the beams before he hit the water. He heard a shot ring out and felt the searing pain in his head. He saw flashes of light, like brilliant explosions on the water that nearly blinded him. He recalled closing his eyes and… and then he guessed he’d blacked out.
“Shit. I can’t remember anything after that.” His whisper echoed in the sterile room. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he looked around and was relieved to find he was still alone.
Immediately, he thought of the woman who had breathed life back into him. He was certainly grateful, and he would repay her somehow but, quite frankly, he had to conclude Suzanne was rather odd. Model Ts in museums? She had to have been overcome with delirium from labor pains, he mused. And when she had said it was the year 2001, she looked at him as though he were a lunatic!
Silence filled the room as the water stopped flowing and Charles stood, blankly staring at his own reflection. His eyes widened as though he’d heard a nagging voice from some unknown place and the words came back to him.
The year 2001!
That’s impossible.
Every muscle in his body became rigid as he felt his blood blast from his toes to his head and back down again. Each rapid beat of his heart sent sledgehammers to his brain. He felt rage beginning to boil inside him, and with every ounce of effort he could gather in an attempt to calm himself, he slowly unfurled his clenched hands. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to scream out in denial for everything that was happening to him. Why had his best friend turned on him? Who were all these crazy people around him? Why was everything so different? Where in the hell had his life gone?
Breathe, Charles. Inhaling slowly and deeply, he obeyed his conscience. With steel determination, he glared into the eyes of the opposing reflection. He knew he was on the brink, but this time, he wasn’t going to jump. This time, he was going to stand his ground.
Don’t think about it any longer, he mentally commanded himself. Just go out and do it. Just deny the insanity and simply go along with everyone and everything until you figure out a way to get back and take care of Mitch.
Right now he had to pull it together not only for himself, but for someone who’d asked for his help, someone to whom he owed a great deal. He might be precariously balanced on the edge of madness now, but being with Suzanne would be enough to take his mind off from his own pain and anger.
Okay, finish up here, make yourself somewhat presentable, and find her, he encouraged himself. He thought back to the moment when they’d stared at each other as she was being wheeled down the hall. He had to admit, he’d felt an unexplainable tug at his heart that was so strong, he knew he couldn’t desert her while she was so alone and scared. The least he could do was not leave until he knew she was okay. He’d have time to figure out how to repay her later.
“Lady Luck has always been on your side, Charles Garrity,” he said with a forced wink to the mirror.
His regained confidence nearly flew out the door when it swung open and a hospital worker walked in. The man hesitated for a moment, and Charles hoped he hadn’t overheard his conceit. He looked down to where the man was staring. His blood-stained shirt. He wished he had a way to wash it too, but he didn’t want to waste any more time. With his hands still held out and dripping, Charlie smiled and shrugged at the man, to convey there was nothing more he could do. The fellow said nothing and passed him to enter a stall.
Turning quickly to find something with which to dry his hands, he saw there were paper hand towels on the wall and he pulled out a few to wipe his hands and face. He picked up the bandage from the sink and played with it for a few moments until he figured out how to make it stick. Once it was in place, he ran his fingers through his hair and walked out.
“There you are,” the male nurse exclaimed. “Here. Change into this and I’ll direct you to the labor rooms. Don’t want to miss the big moment, right?”
“Ah, right,” Charles answered, holding the green paper shirt in his hand as he followed the fellow down a hallway.
“Hurry up, man. They’re never going to let you into maternity with all that blood on you.”
Charles began unbuttoning his soiled shirt as they continued their brisk walk. He’d been in a hospital once before. He’d gone to visit Mitch after the kid had taken some shrapnel in his side during the war and then had spent some time as a patient himself after being wounded. But like everything else he’d encountered so far today, this hospital was nothing like what he’d ever seen before. The amount of light was so overwhelming he had to squint. There were strange pinging noises coming from every room they passed. Insistent voices from the ceiling requested doctors by name and gave instructions for them to pick up lines. Charles looked down at the highly polished floor. At least it appeared very clean and the stench of sulphur wasn’t wafting through the air.
“Hang on. You’ve got it backward. Here, let me help you.”
He felt like a child as the man turned the paper shirt around and tied it behind him.
“So, what are you having, a boy or a girl?”
“Huh?” Charles gasped, trying to spin around to face the man.
“Do you know what the baby is?”
“I… I have no idea. In fact, it’s not—”
“Careful, these things can rip pretty easily,” the nurse interrupted. “They just don’t make ’em like they used to,” he continued almost absentmindedly before adding, “You seem pretty nervous. This must be your first.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Charles sighed in resignation. What was the use in trying to explain the unexplainable?
“There,” the man said with a pat to his back. “Okay, go through those doors and tell them your wife’s name. They’ll take you right to her.”
“Um, sure. My wife. Yes, thank you,” Charles mumbled, still in shock by what was happening so quickly.
“Hey, I’ve got two sons myself. Good luck.”
Left for a moment standing idly in front of the double doors, he reached out to push one, when both seemed to open magically. One more marvel to add to the many he had already experienced. Shaking his head, he whispered under his breath, “Just do it.” Stepping beyond the doors, he saw two women at a circular desk.
“Can I help you, sir?” one older woman asked.
He cleared his t
hroat and tried to remember Suzanne’s last name. “Yes, a woman was just brought here. Suzanne Mc… McDermott.” There. That was it, wasn’t it?
The nurse looked down to her desk. “Yes. She’s in room three. I see from the preadmission forms that you’re signed up for natural childbirth. Do you have her bag?”
“Her bag?” he asked stupidly.
“Yes, her maternity bag.”
“Oh, yes. The bag. It’s still in the car.”
“Well, let me take you to her and see if she wants you to get it.” The woman gently patted his shoulder as she passed. “Come along.”
He followed her down the hallway and overheard a woman’s voice groaning in pain. The blood seemed to drain from his head and he lectured himself to be strong. If he could make it through a world war in a foreign country, he could certainly make it through this!
“Here we are,” the nurse cheerily proclaimed, holding open a door.
He walked through it and saw Suzanne lying upon the high bed with bars on the sides.
“Here’s your handsome husband, Suzanne. He looks shell shocked. You might want to go over your breathing exercises to bring him back.”
Suzanne, looking freshened and dressed in a yellow gown, smiled politely at the nurse. “I will,” she said. “Thank you for bringing him.”
“I’ll be back to check you in a few minutes. You seem to be proceeding nicely.”
“When will I see my doctor? I’m two weeks early, remember?”
“He’s been beeped. He’ll be here soon.”
When they were left alone, they looked at each other for a few moments in silence. Charles smiled and asked, “How are you?”
“Better, now that I’m here. Look, I’m sorry for everything, for the way I acted, for yelling at you… all of it.” She looked as if she was about to burst into tears again, before adding, “And for letting everyone think you’re my husband. It’s kind of childish of me not to tell the truth, but the truth is so ugly and…” Her words trailed off.
Here and Now Page 3
