Guardian

by A L Crouch

  I slipped down into the covers, the muscle relaxant making my limbs foreign to my body. I felt heavy, like I could sink into the mattress and through to the floor. The ache in my head eased and it became harder to hold my eyes open. I wanted to ask more questions, I didn’t understand, but my mind was spinning, unable to focus on any one thought. I knew it was useless.

  “Thank you Nadine,” I said, knowing my time with her was coming to an end. “Thank you for looking over Gram.”

  “There’s no need to thank me, Child. We’ll meet again Alexandra.”

  Nadine tucked the covers up over me and then walked to straighten the flowers on the table.

  “It was you. You were the one who left the flowers at the accident site . . . on their graves.”

  Nadine turned to me and grinned.

  “I wanted to make sure you remembered the wonderful life you had with your parents. You must always remember to see the beauty among the devastation.”

  Nadine switched off the light and walked to the door. She turned to me once more.

  “You’ve been given such a gift Alexandra, don’t miss out on the miracles right in front of you. Take care of our Gram.”

  I could barely keep my eyes open. I wanted to plead with Nadine to stay. I wanted to understand.

  “I’ll see you,” was all I could muster before Nadine giggled once more and closed the door.

  I woke the next morning when someone flung the curtains of my room open and the sunlight shone into my face. It took me a minute to remember where I was, but the as the stark white walls took focus I realized that I had been knocked out, a dreamless sleep, in my hospital room.

  “Time to get up. I’m going to need to check your vitals before they come in to question you.”

  I sat up, noting that my head felt much better, as did my body.

  “Question me?”

  The nurse walked over to me and wrapped a cuff around my arm.

  “There are a couple of officers here waiting to take your statement. You’re free to get dressed if you’d like. Your grandmother was here bright and early and left some of your clothes for you.” She motioned to the chair in the corner and my bag of clothes from the house.

  “I think she went to get you some breakfast. I don’t think she approved of our selection.” The nurse grinned and removed my I.V. “I’ll give you a few minutes and then I’ll send the officers in. I’m sure you want to get that over with as soon as possible, bless your heart.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said and the nurse left the room.

  I rubbed my arm where the needle had been and slowly stepped out of the bed. My legs were stiff and it took me a minute to be able to put all of my weight on them. I stared at the lilies on the table and recalled my conversation with Nadine. In the light of day I was still stunned at the revelation that Nadine had been Gram’s guardian. If I could see her, how many more could I see? How many have I seen walking among us? I wished I hadn’t fallen asleep, that the drugs hadn’t been so quick to work. There was so much more I wanted to understand.

  I hobbled to the chair and picked out a comfortable outfit and went into the small bathroom. I instinctively looked into the mirror above the sink and waited. I half-expected to see Donovan’s smiling face looking back at me. When I accepted that my own bruised face was the only I would see, I continued to get dressed.

  I told the officers everything that happened the night Sulley and Will were killed. I told them about my parent’s accident and they confirmed that the car Sulley turned into the salvage yard was in fact the same car that had run us off the road that fateful night. I was not surprised that Will had been right, I just wished that I had believed him when he told me.

  As the officers finished taking my statement, Gram walked in with another familiar face. Evelyn smiled sympathetically from behind a layer of hot pink lipstick.

  “Oh Honey, I am so sorry. I just had no idea. I feel so responsible. I just can’t believe it.” Evelyn scurried over to me in her six-inch heels and hugged me.

  “It’s okay, no one had any idea,” I said.

  “I called Evelyn as soon as I got up this morning because I knew that she’d help me convince those goons back at the retirement home to let me escape for the day. You should have seen their tongues wagging in their faces,” Gram laughed.

  “It was no problem. You can imagine my surprise to hear her speaking to me like nothing ever happened to her after all these years.” Evelyn poked a thumb at Gram.

  “So how are you, Dear? You look much better. I think that rest did you a lot of good. I brought you some breakfast.” Gram set the brown paper bag and a cup of coffee down on the bedside table.

  I had a seat on the bed and opened up the bag, happy to see the bagel sandwich inside. By the time I finished my breakfast and was savoring the last bit of hot coffee on my raw throat, the nurse came back in with a wheel chair.

  “Okay, you are all set. Your release papers are at the front desk along with a prescription for a mild pain reliever. Remember, no sports or any other activity where you could bang that head for a few weeks.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to break the news to the roller derby team,” I mumbled, earning a cross look from the nurse.

  “Well her sense of humor is back. That’s a good sign.” Gram chuckled. “Evelyn and I are going to get the car and pull it around. We’ll see you out front in a minute.”

  “Okay, see you in a minute.” I said and grabbed my bag.

  The nurse motioned me to the wheel chair and I rolled my eyes.

  “Is that really necessary? I’m walking just fine right now.” I sighed.

  “It’s hospital policy. If want to leave, you sit,” she answered with a grin.

  I grudgingly had a seat in the wheelchair and let the nurse wheel me to the receptionist’s desk. The lobby was busier than I expected for so early in the morning. The nurse wheeled me into a line at the desk. I adjusted in the seat and looked around the waiting room.

  Some people were sitting back with a magazines and cups of coffee. Children busied themselves in the corner where several toys and children’s books were strategically placed. Many people were fixated on the small flat-screen TV, which hung on the wall next to me. I could see that they were enthralled with the latest reports of the shooting at Fort Bragg.

  I looked away, not having the heart to hear of any more pain and destruction, but something caught my eye. Below the television sat a decorative table, meant for hiding the wires of the TV. On top of the table, almost out of place, sat an enormous vase filled with dozens of white lilies. I stared at them and remembered what Nadine had said to me the night before. “Remember to see the beauty among the devastation,” she had said.

  Leaving my bag in the wheelchair, I walked slowly to the TV holding up my hand when the nurse started to protest. I beckoned her to hold my place in line and turned back to the TV. On the screen was a shot of the outside of a hospital and the white words beneath it read: Womack Army Medical Center. I got closer so I could hear what the reporter was saying.

  “. . . sad day for soldiers at Fort Bragg and for the many thankful families who owe the life of their loved ones to this man. Today, at oh-twelve-hundred, SFC Donovan Pritchard will be taken off of life support, as hundreds gather to Womack Army Medical center to pay their last respects to the fallen hero.”

  I gasped when I heard the name of the wounded soldier and stumbled faster to the television, not caring that I was blocking others in the waiting room from being able to see. Stopping just inches from the screen, I watched, eyes wide, as the reporter continued.

  “SFC Pritchard was mortally wounded Thursday when a fellow Fort Bragg soldier opened fire on his regimen as they gathered for morning drills. Pritchard contained the gunman even as he was shot numerous times in the torso and legs. His selfless act saved countless lives and he has been awarded the Soldier’s Medal for his heroic act.”

  My surroundings froze and disintegrated around me as a picture
of SFC Pritchard flashed onto the screen. Though he wore a dessert-camo uniform and a dusty helmet, I immediately recognized the intensely blue eyes that peered out from below the rim. I was staring into the face of my Donovan . . . a hero . . . a man.

  “SFC Pritchard leaves behind no family, but will be forever remembered and honored among soldiers and family here at Fort Bragg and from a nation who will be forever grateful.” The reporter finished and continued to the next story.

  I remained in a state of shock, my mind reeling. Could it really be him? It couldn’t be. My Donovan had been with me my whole life, and the shooting had only happened a few days ago. How was that possible? I couldn’t make sense of it, couldn’t conceive of the possibility that Donovan was alive, at least for now only hours away. It just couldn’t be.

  Then all of the conversations of the past days flooded back into my memory. I remembered the things that Donovan had said to me:

  “Time for you is linear, it doesn’t exist that way for me . . .” he had said. “For me it is as close as yesterday. Your whole life, to me has been a handful of days”

  And what had he said in our last moments together?

  “My time with you has been no longer than a few precious days, but I will love you for eternity,” he had said.

  I shook my head, it seemed too impossible. But the meaning of Nadine’s words from the night before started to make sense to me:

  “We can all be called upon to be his angels at any time, to protect his people at any given moment. He can use anyone, and any circumstance . . . don’t miss out on the miracle right in front of you.”

  I let out a rush of breath and searched the walls frantically for a clock. I found one above the receptionist’s desk. It was already almost eight a.m. I had no time for doubt. I ran to the front door, the stiffness in my legs forgotten.

  “Excuse me miss, you have to sign these papers!” The receptionist yelled and I raced back to the counter.

  “I have to wheel you out too,” the nurse reminded me.

  I grabbed the clipboard and scribbled my name and then hopped back into the wheelchair.

  “Please, I have to go now!” I urged.

  The receptionist glared at me as she looked over the paperwork.

  “Where are you in such a rush to?

  “To find my blessing,” I cried as the nurse wheeled me out the door.

  Gram and Evelyn were waiting out front in Evelyn’s car. I got up from the chair and threw myself into the back seat. They turned from the front seat startled.

  “What in the world is going on, Dear?” Gram asked.

  “Change of plans. I know this is going to sound crazy, but Evelyn, I need you to take me to Fort Bragg right now.”

  “Fort Bragg? That’s all the way in Fayetteville; that’s almost four hours away. What on earth do you want to go down there for?” Evelyn’s voice raised in pitch.

  Gram turned in her seat and held out a hand to me.

  “What is this about Alex? You can tell me.”

  I stared deep into Gram’s eyes and prayed that she would understand.

  “Gram, are you feeling okay? Is this too much for you?”

  “Gracious dear, I haven’t felt this great in over a decade. What’s troubling you?”

  Tears welled up in my eyes, I didn’t know if I could explain.

  “I need to go to Womack Hospital. He’s about to be taken off of life support. I have to get there before he . . .” The tears flowed down my cheeks and Gram squeezed my hand. I tried to continue. “Gram, I can’t explain it . . . but I know him.”

  Evelyn gasped. “You mean that poor dear that stopped that gunman? You know him?”

  I stared into Gram’s eyes, “I think I’m meant to go there, right now . . . before it’s too late.”

  Gram stared back at me and just nodded. She didn’t ask any questions, she just gave my hand a squeeze and turned back to Evelyn.

  “Evelyn Dear, we’re going to Fort Bragg. Let’s make it in a jiffy too.”

  Evelyn looked at Gram in shock and then registered her serious tone. She nodded obediently and put the car into drive.

  “I always did like the sight of a men in uniform,” she retorted and pulled the car onto the main road towards the highway.

  I remained silent the entire way down, staring out the window, lost in thought. I could hear Evelyn and Gram discussing the events of the last years, but I could think only of Donovan. I wrestled with the craziness of what I was doing. It was insane. Could the man lying in that hospital bed really be the same spirit who protected me from harm my whole life? I knew it was, there was no mistaking those eyes and that kind smile. I didn’t know how it was possible, but Donovan would say that didn’t mean it wasn’t.

  I had to get to him before it was too late. But how was I going to get to him? How was I going to get through to see him? What if I didn’t make it?

  I glanced at the clock on the dash as we pulled into the checkpoint at Fort Bragg. I let them photocopy my driver’s license and after a thorough search of Evelyn’s car, we were allowed on base. I was sure that Evelyn’s flirting had much to do with our success.

  “He said the hospital is all the way down the road on the left,” Evelyn informed us when she climbed back behind the wheel.

  As we approached the hospital, rows of cars were parked along the curb and crowds walked, candles in hand, down the sidewalks towards the hospital. Evelyn pulled into the ER driveway, but came to a complete stop when faced with the bumper-to-bumper traffic there. I looked up to the hospital entrance, to where hundreds of people gathered in the parking lot, some with posters, all with tears in their eyes.

  “What do you want me to do now? I can try to go back to the road and park?” Evelyn asked.

  I looked at the clock on the dash and then to Gram who turned to me. It was five minutes to noon. My eyes asked the question and Gram understood.

  “Go Alex, don’t worry about us. We’ll be waiting for you. If this is what you are meant to do, then don’t let anything stop you. Go,” Gram urged.

  I got out of the car and ran as fast as my bruised legs would carry me. I pushed my way past the crowd but stopped short when I reached the security guard at the front door.

  He looked down on me with reprimand in his eyes.

  “If you’re not having an emergency, the hospital is closed to civilians,” he spat.

  I hesitated, frantically plotting my next move as he stepped toward me. But before he could force me to turn back, a friendly face stepped beside him from the crowd. Smiling down on me, the man placed his hand on the security guard’s shoulder. The guard’s fierce look melted and he grinned at me and nodded for me to pass.

  “Just this once,” the guard said cheerfully.

  I stared into the friendly face of the man beside the guard and he nodded to me. I smiled and ran through the front doors of the hospital.

  When I reached the front desk, I had to take a second to catch my breath.

  “Where can I direct you?” The unemotional secretary didn’t even look at me.

  “Donovan Pritchard’s room please,” I pleaded.

  The secretary turned her attention from the screen in front of her and glared at me, her face a mask on impatience.

  “Are you family?”

  “Not exactly,” I said, desperation in my voice. “But I’ve known him all my life, please. I came as soon as I could.”

  “No visitors allowed,” she mumbled, annoyed.

  “You don’t understand . . .” I begged.

  “I’m sorry miss, but no vis–” the woman began again, but before she could finish, another kind face stepped up behind the secretary. I watched as the woman laid a hand on the secretary’s shoulder. The secretary turned back to me, an expression of peace on her face.

  “You know, just this once should be fine I suppose. Donovan Pritchard is in room 206. Second floor, right at the end of the hall.” She smiled.

  “Thank you!” I exclaimed, my eyes fixed on the
kind eyes of the stranger who grinned and nodded from beside the secretary.

  I ran forward and took the stairs by two, gritting my teeth against the pain in my ankle, and the bruises on my body. But it didn’t matter, none of that mattered.

  When I reached the top, I forced myself down the long hallway and came to an abrupt stop when I found room 206. I watched as a handful of doctors and men in uniform left the room and looked at me, their faces solemn, before they walked off.

  My heart threatened to break in my chest as I reached for the door and looked in.

  “They just took out all of the tubes. It won’t be long now,” a voice from the corner of the room said to me.

  For a few seconds I just stood there, listening to the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor. When I mustered the courage to walk into the room, I looked down on the man who lay in the bed before me and a sob exploded uncontrollably from my throat.

  It was him. Donovan lay on the bed looking even more bruised and battered that I did.

  “Do you know him?” the voice asked me.

  I tore my eyes away from Donovan and faced the man who stood a few feet from the bed. He was dressed in full military dress uniform; his sleeve insignia indicated that he was an officer.

  “He’s been there for me all my life,” I whispered and tuned back to Donovan.

  “He saved my life and the life of my men. It’s a damned shame. He deserves to live a long and happy life,” the officer said and moved toward the door. “He doesn’t have any other family that’s still living, so I’ve been here praying for his recovery every day. I prayed for him to have a second chance at life, to find his happiness. It’s a damned shame.”

  “What are his injuries? Is there no chance for him to recover?” I asked breathlessly.

  “He was shot in the chest numerous times, and took one to the leg. They got all the bullets out, were able to rebuild the lung, but he never started breathing again on his own. I guess the fight just wasn’t in him. His soul had somewhere else it wanted to be. He’ll be at peace soon,” the officer explained and then sighed and shook his head.