Last Words: A Diary of Survival

by Shari J. Ryan

  If Charlie was unsure of our direction, I was not going to be of much help without familiarizing myself with our location. I unfolded the map, searching for Theresienstadt. Thankfully, I found it quickly, though it was hard to see much with only the smattering of gas lamps we were passing by. “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Zurich,” he said.

  “Charlie, that will take us almost a full day of driving if we don't stop, and we’re in a stolen car,” I reminded him.

  “I know, Amelia, but what other choice do we have?”

  “We need to find a different car,” I told him.

  “I agree. I’m just not fond of theft,” he said.

  “You won't be fond of prison or execution either,” I argued.

  Charlie continued peering into the mirror with a frightened look in his eyes as we continued heading away from the more populated area.

  After we had driven for hours, the tank of gas was nearing empty, and it was hard to tell how far away from the Austrian border we were. “We're going to have to start walking,” Charlie said.

  “We should drive until the car runs out of gas,” I told him.

  “I just don’t want to get too close to the border with this car.”

  I peered down at Lucie, who was still sound asleep, and began to imagine how hard things were about to become. It wasn’t long before an increased frequency of cars started to pass by us, and we knew that was our cue to get rid of the evidence, never mind running out of gas. Charlie pulled off into a field of tall grass that nearly covered the car, though I suspected it would still be obvious in the daylight. However, I had hoped we would be long gone by then.

  With Lucie cradled in my arms, I shimmied out of the back door and into the tangled grass. Charlie’s hand looped gently around mine as he helped us climb up to the main road where a pair of headlights unexpectedly caught us as we crossed the road. Without a word exchanged, we began to run, heading into the dense woods.

  We hadn't gotten far when a man began to shout in the distance. “Hey! You there!”

  Charlie grabbed me and pulled us along faster as we moved further into the woods. We ran until we couldn't run any further. My legs collapsed, and Charlie tried to lift me back up, but I couldn’t stand any longer, especially while carrying Lucie.

  There was no path within the woods, and I had hope that with the darkness covering our trails, it would be difficult for anyone to find us. The possibility of the passing car being a Nazi who may have been aware of our escape wasn’t as likely as we imagined it to be, but we couldn’t take any chances.

  “Hey!” a voice shouted again.

  “Dammit,” Charlie whispered. “He’s after us.” Charlie dragged us toward a wide tree, pinning our backs to it as he towered over us. “Don’t say a word.” I knew not to speak.

  Lucie didn't understand, though, and a soft cry escaped her lips. It was the first noise I had heard from her since we left the camp. “Shh,” I tried to soothe her. “Hush now.”

  I bounced her gently on my lap, and Charlie combed his fingers softly through her fine hair. “Shh,” he repeated after me. “It's okay, baby girl. We’re going to take good care of you. I promise.”

  “Where did you go now?” the voice sounded again, but with so many trees for the sound to bounce off of, it was hard to pinpoint a source of direction.

  Lucie’s cries grew louder as she reached for my neck. She must be hungry or have a wet bottom, so I carefully cupped my hand around her mouth, avoiding her nose. “Shhh, shhh.” Our efforts were relentless.

  “You’re a soldier,” the man said. “And you have a prisoner. Is that a stolen car you got there, too?”

  I looked into Charlie's eyes, and he looked into mine. I don't know if we were thinking the same thought, but one thing was certain…the man didn't want to give up, and daylight would be coming soon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Emma

  As I finish the last word, my heartache continues to grow for Grams, both for what she endured back then and for what she is going through right now. At least I know she somehow survived that ordeal all those years ago, and I’m eager to find out how.

  I hear feet storming through the hallway amid breathless gasps, and I can only imagine the sounds belong to Mom. The running stops, probably when they direct her to this cave they refer to as a waiting room.

  Just as I predicted, the door opens, and I slip the diary back into my bag to avoid questions since Grams asked me to keep this to myself, which I’m starting to understand why.

  Mom falls into me without a word, and her body trembles as she bursts into tears. “I’m not sure how much more I can take,” she says.

  “We’re going to make it through this,” I tell her, trying to sound as positive as I can. “Grams doesn’t give up.” I know this now.

  “How did you get here so fast? Where were you when you got the news? Please tell me you weren’t at Mike’s house.”

  I take in a slow, deep breath, needing a moment to switch gears from death and morbidity to explaining how I’ve suddenly fallen into a committed relationship with my grandmother’s doctor over the past two days. “I was with Jackson,” I tell her.

  Of course, her face registers a look of surprise as she glances down at her watch to confirm the time. Since she was, in fact, woken from a dead sleep in the middle of the night, and I was with Jackson when that happened, it only takes a moment for her to put two and two together.

  “Are you two—” She puts her hands together and tries to smile, but her lips quiver instead. There’s no hiding how scared she is—I understand. “At least something good is happening now with all this other horrible stuff going on with Grams,” Mom says, trying to sound upbeat. She looks away for a second and then back at me, her eyes burning with curiosity. “Were you…” she stops short of finishing the question and says, “Never mind, it’s not my place.” There isn’t much Mom won’t ask me, but for some reason, she is respecting my privacy tonight. She already has too much on her mind while worrying about Grams, so I assume that’s why.

  Mom repositions herself in the seat beside me and places her hands over her heart. “Where were the nurses when she got up?”

  “I don’t know, Mom.”

  “Someone should have been with her.”

  “I don’t know how that works,” I tell her.

  “Well, I’ll have a word with whoever is in charge.”

  That’s not what I would be doing now. “We want them to help us with Grams. You can’t start threatening and scolding them. Have you talked to Annie?”

  “She should be here any moment.” Mom picks up her phone, checking for missed calls or text messages, but her phone is always on the loudest volume, so I don’t see how it would be possible to miss anything. “How long before we’ll hear something?” she asks.

  “I really don’t know any more than you do,” I tell her.

  Annie quietly makes her way into the room. Her rosy cheeks are stained with tears, and her makeup-less face gives the appearance that she’s closer to her actual age than she typical looks. “How did you hear about her first?” Annie asks immediately.

  “Oh, she just happened to be at the hospital checking in on Mom when it occurred,” Mom says to Annie.

  For the fact that Annie doesn’t question the time of night I was apparently checking on Grams, I’ll assume she’s as exhausted as Mom.

  I am impressed that Mom isn’t pressing the matter. She likes to find distractions when she’s upset, so this is big. Maybe she doesn’t want to jinx it. I’m sure under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be able to contain herself, and the information she thinks she has would have been blurted out to Annie by now. Mom and Annie are like two peas in a pod. Annie never had children, so I have been her sole focus just as I have been Mom’s. Three women, including Grams, have simultaneously lived vicariously through my life since I was old enough to be considered a prime age for love, and all the other exciting stuff that young women are suppo
sed to experience. They all think I should be focused on marriage, having children, and keeping the perfect home. Yet, here I am, the ultimate disappointment who has preferred her career over everything else, including a normal relationship with a man. Jackson may be a game changer, but I still don’t see a reason to rush my life away.

  With the thought of Jackson lingering through my over-stressed mind, the door opens, revealing his scrub-clad body and a look of exhaustion. We all stand up, waiting for his life-or-death answer to our burning question.

  “I was able to revive her. My assumptions about the pacemaker dislodging when she fell forward, were accurate. It didn’t cause her harm, but it wasn’t doing what it was supposed to. Her blood pressure elevated from the fall and her heart was racing at a fast pace, so the arrhythmia caught up to her, which caused her heart to panic after losing a sense of direction.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” I blurt out.

  “Before we re-attached the pacemaker, we did some more in-depth scans of her heart. During a CT scan and an angiogram, we noticed that her aortic valve is very narrow. Even though the stroke was caused by the atrial fibrillation, we now know that she is also dealing with a restricted and narrowed valve. The narrowing means that it’s harder for the blood to get through the valve. This may have been a contributing factor to her falling tonight too. I believe she may have blacked out when she stood up due to a lack of blood supply getting through the valve and to the brain.” The information rolling off Jackson’s tongue is jumbling in my head—it’s a lot to take in. I know there is a reason for all the information, and I’m scared of the outcome. “The bright side of the story is, we spotted the narrowed valve because of the accident. It would have been spotted eventually, but with everything that has happened to her in the past few days, the most important thing was to stabilize her and then see what else was going on, but now we know.”

  “What does all of this mean?” Mom pleads. The medical jargon is confusing, and I’m trying to understand it all too, but I can assume it all means that there’s a bigger problem with Grams’s heart, and it isn’t being fixed by the pacemaker.

  “It could mean more surgery—an aortic valve replacement, to be exact,” he says.

  “Is it risky?” Annie asks as she trembles while holding onto Mom’s arm.

  Jackson takes a seat across from us and folds his hands over his knees as he leans forward. This is his way of talking to us calmly to explain why there isn’t a good outcome to this. I can feel it. I can see it in his eyes. “It is, and I have to tell you my professional opinion: I don’t recommend it at her age or in her condition. If she were ten years younger, I would say to go for it, but she is already weak and frail. I just feel it may be too risky.”

  “But I thought the pacemaker would fix her heart?” Mom asks. She must know the answer couldn’t be so simple, but I’m also sure she’s in shock, as it appears Annie is too.

  “It fixed part of the problem,” Jackson continues. “Her heart will continue to beat at a normal pace; however, the narrowing of that valve causes oxygen deprivation, which could eventually lead to a heart attack. Now, I’m not saying it will, but it could.”

  “Eventually?” I ask.

  “Ninety-two years old is quite a feat,” he says, redirecting his attention onto me while revealing a look of grief in his eyes.

  “It’s not enough time,” I tell him.

  “She can either live out her life at home, or we can find a special care facility for her, but after the short time I’ve known Amelia, I’m assuming the first option would be best.”

  “How long does she have, Jackson?” I ask.

  Jackson pauses a moment. His Adam’s apple slides up and down his throat, and his chest rises as if it’s taking a lot of will to muster the answer. “It’s hard to say. She could have two more years, or something could happen tomorrow. I don’t know how long it took her aortic valve to reach the state it’s in, so I don’t know how fast the narrowing is progressing. If it’s slow, then that will be good for her.” He pauses again, needing to take another breath. I’ve made this harder on him. There’s more at stake than just an everyday patient now. I can see it and hear it through his struggling words. He doesn’t want to hurt me. “I guess what I’m saying is…just relish the time and help her enjoy life for as long as you can. That’s really what everybody should do anyway. We’ll keep her on the heart meds and blood thinners, and that, along with the pacemaker, should prevent her from having another stroke.”

  Mom and Annie wrap their arms around me, both falling apart as they squeeze tightly. I feel helpless as I stare into Jackson’s caring eyes as he mouths the words, “I’m so sorry.”

  “When can we see her?” Mom cries out.

  “She’s resting comfortably right now, so I suggest coming back first thing in the morning.”

  They both nod as tears roll down their cheeks at the same time. I’ve never been as emotional as the two of them, but something inside of me is feeding my strength. I know I need to be strong for them. I’m all they have.

  Mom and Annie nudge me forward. “Come on,” Mom says, “let’s get home so we can get a little sleep.”

  “I think I’m going to stay here,” I tell her.

  “Emma, don’t be ridiculous. You need some sleep, and we both know you won’t be getting any rest in these chairs.”

  “Mom, I’m fine, okay?”

  “Okay. Well, call me if there is any change,” she says, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Please don’t wait. I don’t care what time it is.”

  “I promise,” I tell her.

  “I’m going to stay with you tonight,” Annie tells Mom on the way out.

  Jackson and I are left alone in the waiting room, and he pulls me up from my seat and onto his lap, offering me the kind of hug I’ve desperately needed for the past couple of hours. “Are your mom and aunt going to be okay tonight?”

  I sniffle and peer up at Jackson through a blur of contained tears. “Yeah,” I croak. “Annie stays with my mom a lot anyway because my Uncle Aaron goes on frequent fishing trips with a bunch of his retired-police friends. Plus, Mom and Annie take care of each other when I’m not around too, which is nice.”

  “Good,” Jackson says. “What about you?”

  I force my lips into a fake smile and shake my head. “No, I’m not okay.”

  “I would do the surgery, but I don’t think she’s strong enough to make it through an open-heart procedure, and she isn’t a candidate for the other methods at this time.”

  “I’m sure she would agree. I don’t see her wanting to go for any further surgeries.”

  “She has certainly suffered enough for one lifetime,” Jackson says.

  As he pulls away just a bit to lean back into the chair, I replace his embrace with my arms, wrapping them around my chest to hold myself from the shiver running through my body. “She’s also had an amazing life too,” I feel the need to say.

  “With you being a part of it, anyone’s life would be incredible.” I rest the side of my face into his chest, feeling safer and comforted by his warmth.

  “I need to find him before it’s too late,” I say. Though the words are quiet and under my breath, I’m sure of my statement.

  “Find him?” Jackson questions.

  “I need to find Charlie, or at least see if he’s still alive. I need to do it for her. I’m not ready to let go of her yet, either, especially after learning everything from her diary. I feel like I just met her for the first time.”

  Jackson places his hands on my shoulders and glances down at me with determination written across his face. “I have Friday off. I can help you if you want,” he says. “For now, though, come with me.” I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I want to start looking for Charlie this very second, but I can hardly see straight.

  Jackson takes my hand, leading me out of the waiting room and down the hall to where he pushes open a door that leads into a stairwell. “Where are we going?�
��

  “We need sleep,” he says.

  I agree with him there, but where we are going to sleep is what I’m wondering. We hike up a couple flights of stairs that lead to a different wing of the hospital. This place keeps getting bigger and bigger, I swear. Jackson swipes his badge along one of the security boxes and opens the door into a lobby-like area. “Where are we?”

  “When we have double shifts that overlap at night, we take naps. Sometimes I just sleep here when my shift runs longer than it should, and I have to be back early in the morning.” The lobby area leads down a hall with several doors. Some are open and some are closed. I assume the closed ones are occupied, as we walk into one of the open ones. It looks like a small hotel room inside. “It’s nice that you have a place to stay here.”

  “We’re lucky to have a space like this. Most hospitals don’t offer such high-class quarters,” he says with a tired smile.

  I don’t think twice before dropping my bag against the wall, kicking my shoes off, and climbing into the inviting bed. He follows, but removes his shirt before pulling the sheets over us. Jackson wraps his heavy arm around me, and the comfort of being held by him soothes my worries into the back of my mind, even if only temporarily.

  Jackson had to be up at six, and without the comfort of his body taking up the space beside me, I wasn’t hard to rouse. He told me I could stay here for a while longer and sleep, but I thought it might be awkward if I walked out of here alone and ran into any of the other medical staff, so I decide to head back down to the despised waiting room.

  I’m ready to begin my research on Charlie, but I’m also nervous for what I might find. Would this complicate Grams’s life or give her the sense of peace she may have been looking for half of her life?

  I pull my laptop and the diary out of my bag because I still can’t remember if Charlie’s last name was mentioned, so I’ll have to start there.