Moon Over Alcatraz

by Patricia Yager Delagrange

  I ran over to the reception desk where a woman sat in front of a computer, typing information from a sheet propped up on the desk. She didn’t acknowledge I was standing there so I tapped on the window separating her from the rest of us in the waiting area and when she didn’t look up, I knocked on the glass with the palm of my hand.

  “Excuse me? Could you tell me where they’ve taken Edward Barnes? He was just brought into the E.R.”

  She looked up from her keyboard and glanced down at a piece of paper on her desk. “Are you related to Mr. Barnes?”

  I tried to look confident, straightened my shoulders and placed my hands firmly on the countertop. “I’m his fiancé. We’re getting married in a few weeks. I just want to know if he’s been admitted,” I answered, my voice quivering with held-in emotion.

  She looked up at me then down at the paper then up again. I thought she might know Edward, the attorney for the accused murderer of the five-year-old girl. Perhaps she was aware he’d been shot on the courthouse steps. But something in her eyes showed she felt sorry for him or for me. “Your name?”

  “Brandy Chambers. Someone shot him on the steps of the courthouse. I just want to know what’s happening to him. I’m his fiancé and I know I don’t have any rights yet because we aren’t married but—”

  Realizing I’d raised my voice, I began whispering. “If you could just tell me if he’s been admitted to the hospital or if he…didn’t make it?” I couldn’t make myself say the word ‘dead’, and I couldn’t pretend to be strong much longer.

  “He’s been admitted,” she whispered. “He’s in the ICU now. If you go around to the front of the building and enter the hospital from the main floor, take the elevator to the third floor. That’s where the ICU is and you can try, and I mean try, to talk your way into seeing him, but I’m not promising anything. I don’t know the nurses who work there, so I’m not sure what they’ll tell you. But you can give it your best shot. I’m sorry.”

  It seemed I’d been holding my breath since walking into the building. I let out a sigh of relief, thanked her, and ran out the E.R. doors to the front of the hospital. When the elevator reached the third floor I felt a sickening wave of déjà vu, memories of Christine and Amylynn and my parents hit me like a slap in the face. I couldn’t move. My feet seemed incapable of exiting the elevator. The doors began to close, and I stuck out my arm to stop them from shutting.

  I had to do this. I had to go to him, tell him how much I loved him in case he didn’t make it. I stepped out and the elevator doors shut behind me. I was dreading what I’d learn, hating what I most feared—that Edward was dying and I’d lose him forever.

  But I wanted to know the truth, even though a part of me felt more comfortable being ignorant of it. However my need to know won out. I walked as if maneuvering through quicksand until I came to the hub of the ICU—the nurses’ station.

  A woman dressed in green scrubs looked up from her computer screen. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Edward Barnes’s fiancé. My name is Brandy Chambers. I was told he’s here in the ICU. Someone in the Emergency Room told me I might speak with you about his condition. Could you tell me how he’s doing? I’d really appreciate it.”

  She stood up and leaned toward me, taking both my hands in hers, squeezing them. “He’s in the ICU because his condition is serious, Ms. Chambers,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you much more. The doctors are examining him to determine how extensive his injuries are and whether he needs to have surgery. I would guess we’ll know within the hour exactly what their plan of action will be. Does Mr. Barnes have any relatives? Do you know if he has a will or living trust with a medical directive?”

  I shook my head. “His mother’s dead, he doesn’t know where his father is, he hasn’t any brothers or sisters, and he’s never told me about any relatives. As far as a will or living trust, you can call his law office. I’ll give you the number. They should be able to tell you something. Can I wait here? I mean, is there a waiting room?”

  She nodded, pointing behind me. “There’s a special waiting room for relatives of ICU patients just over there, to the right of the elevators. As soon as I phone Mr. Barnes’s law office and get the medical information, I’ll know more about his situation, if he has any relatives or not and verify your identity as his fiancé. I’m sure you understand our position.”

  “I do. And I appreciate your help.” I took one of Edward’s business cards from my wallet and placed it on the counter then wrote my cell phone number at the bottom. “The people at his office should be able to answer your questions. I wrote my cell phone number here too.” Slipping it toward her, I added, “I appreciate your being so understanding.”

  “I’ll call you when I know anything. We have a cafeteria on the first floor, if you’re interested.”

  I thanked her again and walked around the corner to the waiting room. Several chairs lined both walls. At the far end, a window overlooked the parking lot, letting in substantial sunlight, making the room appear bright and somewhat eerily cheerful. I sat down and put my head in my hands. I could feel my heart twisting inside me, clenching in my chest.

  This couldn’t be happening. I had no one to talk to. Cecilia was taking care of Amylynn. Stephanie was babysitting Jessica and I couldn’t call her and talk about my feelings; we didn’t have that type of relationship. Truthfully, I had no one to commiserate with, to discuss how helpless I felt. I decided to go to the cafeteria, get something to drink then return to see if there was an update on Edward’s condition.

  Chapter 50

  The cafeteria was large and airy, windows lined the walls. I purchased a latte from the in-house Starbucks and was looking for an empty table when I heard the Fergie ringtone coming from my cell phone.

  “Brandy, I heard about Edward.” It was Cecilia. “How’s he doing?”

  “I don’t know yet. I saw it on TV and came to the hospital right away, but when I got to the ICU they still hadn’t finished examining him. I’m in the cafeteria. I gave the nurse my cell number. Cecilia, I can’t believe this is happening. I think I’m in shock. Who shot him?”

  “Heidi Bailey’s father, Jeff Bailey. They arrested him. I doubt he’ll make bail if they allow him to be released on bail anyway. The man’s spent a ton of money already on an attorney for his daughter’s murder. They keep showing the video of the shooting over and over again so don’t turn on the television when you get home.”

  “I won’t. Then again, I probably won’t be going home. At least not until I find out what’s happening with Edward.”

  “I could meet you at the hospital, stay with you for a while.”

  “I appreciate your wanting to come here but, no, you shouldn’t. You need to be with Amylynn. She just got out of the hospital and she’s still recovering.”

  “Hey, Perry’s taking a mental health day today. I could come sit with you, unless you don’t want me to then of course I’ll understand.”

  I tried not to cry. Cecilia had been through her own emotional upheaval with Amylynn having been in the hospital. But now Amylynn was getting better and Perry was home. Deep down I was scared and having Cecilia with me was exactly what I needed. “I’d love it if you could meet me here. I feel so alone. I—”

  “I’ll be right there. Should I meet you in the ICU or the cafeteria?”

  “I’m going back up to the ICU waiting room on the third floor. And Cecilia, thank you for doing this. I love you.”

  “See you in a few minutes.”

  Exiting the elevator on the third floor, I walked straight to the nurses’ station, hoping they’d know something by now. I was so worried about him. One of the nurses turned and saw me. I could tell she recognized me or maybe she’d been told who I was.

  She hurried over. “Brandy Chambers, right?” I nodded. “Dr. McBride said she’d like to talk with you. If you want to follow me, I’ll tell her you’re here.”

  I took a seat in the conference room that faced the beach, though
the windows on the third floor were so high I gazed into a bright blue sky studded with marshmallow clouds. A few seconds later, a young female doctor, thin, attractive, with short, curly black hair, entered the room and took a seat across from me. She put her elbows on the table and looked me straight in the eyes.

  “Ms. Chambers, I’m Dr. McBride. I’ve spoken with Mr. Barnes’s law office and confirmed you’re his fiancé. Mr. Barnes informed them you were the person to contact in a medical emergency. He has a living trust but the attorney at his law office who took care of it is on vacation. They’re trying to get in touch with him now. I’ve decided to share with you all information concerning his condition.”

  “Is he going to die?”

  She leaned back in her chair, twisted a pen between her hands. “Ms. Chambers, let me tell you what we know so far. He’s suffered an extenuating cervical spinal trauma from the bullet along with internal injuries. It was a hollow core bullet and it shattered. One of the pieces must have nicked the spinal cord. He’s in a coma, which is a good thing. It’s his body’s way of dealing with the physical trauma.

  “We’re not sure yet whether he’ll have use of his limbs, and until he comes out of the coma, which he may not, we won’t be able to tell if he’s sustained any brain damage. So, in a nutshell, it’s a waiting game and it’s too early to give a prognosis. But I wanted to keep you apprised of his current condition. We’ll know more as time goes on.” She stood to leave.

  I thanked her and remained seated. She walked quickly out the door into the hallway of the ICU. I didn’t have the energy to get out of the chair. My legs felt rubbery, numb, my head cluttered with worry, my body exhausted from the tension of not knowing what would happen to him. He was in a scary state of limbo—in a coma, perhaps quadriplegic, internal injuries. Would he ever wake up? Would he ever speak to me again? Would we get married as planned? I highly doubted that. It all sounded terribly frightening and uncertain.

  Placing both my hands flat on the conference table, I tried to push myself up, gathering a strength I wasn’t sure I had, hoping it was hiding somewhere inside me. Little stars clouded my vision and I shut my eyes until I felt less dizzy, waited a few seconds then reopened them. After taking a deep breath, I walked unsteadily to the ICU waiting room, assuming Cecilia would be there by now.

  She was standing in the waiting room, gazing out the window, and walked over to me when I entered. “How are you doing? How’s Edward? Did you talk to the doctor?”

  I collapsed in the nearest chair, placing my head in my hands. “I talked to Dr. McBride. He’s in a coma, with internal injuries.” I turned toward her, leaning the side of my face in my hand. “At this point it’s a waiting game. I guess Edward told someone in his office to contact me in case of a medical emergency.”

  She sat in the chair next to me, putting her arm around my shoulders. “Well, that’s a good thing, Brandy. You won’t be kept in the dark about how he’s doing. Is there someone he authorized to make medical decisions for him, you know, if he can’t do it himself?”

  Looking down at the floor, I shook my head. “I don’t know. He never mentioned any relatives to me. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

  “I’m sorry you have to go through this. It’s all so sad.”

  I turned toward her. “You know, just the other day Edward and I were talking about karma. And he gets it, Cecilia. All the good in the world comes from us and it also comes back to us. He’s a good person and he deserves to live.”

  She gave me a small smile and kissed me on the cheek. “Of course he does. You need to be strong now, Brandy. He’s alive and you have to believe he’ll pull through.”

  “I want to see him.”

  She took hold of my arm. “Then let’s ask if that’s possible, maybe for just a few minutes.”

  We walked to the main station in the ICU and waited until I noticed the first woman I’d spoken with walking out of one of the patient’s rooms.

  “I’m Brandy Chambers. I spoke with Dr. McBride a while ago. I want to see Edward Barnes. May I visit him?”

  She looked at the computer behind her, scrolled down through what I surmised was Edward’s medical file. “Dr. McBride notes here that you’re authorized to visit Mr. Barnes, but only for five minutes each hour, Ms. Chambers.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “For the first seventy-two hours,” she added. “Hospital rules.”

  I nodded. “I understand. Cecilia, why don’t you wait for me in the other room, or down in the cafeteria.”

  “I’ll go get a cup of coffee then come back up here. Take your time, Brandy. I’ll be in the waiting room when you’re finished.”

  Chapter 51

  He was in room 310—a number I was sure would be etched on my brain forever. I walked to within a few feet of the door’s entrance and stopped. Was I ready for this? Inside my head, I was already repeating over and over, “Please don’t let him die.” I closed my eyes, gathered whatever remnants of inner strength I could muster and walked forward.

  A breathing tube snaked out of his mouth, and his dark mustache looked like a caterpillar draped over the clear plastic hose. An IV was connected to his left arm, a bag of life-giving solution hanging from a pole next to the bed. He looked like he was asleep, his face appeared normal, there wasn’t any bruising. He was as handsome as when I’d last seen him. He seemed serene, at peace. Then again, he looked like someone lying in a casket before being lowered into the ground.

  I quickly let go of that thought and stepped to the side of the bed free of medical paraphernalia, and picked up his hand. I turned his palm upward and kissed it then stared at the tiny faint lines running up, down, and sideways. His life line was extra long—perhaps a good omen—and I recalled my teenage years when we used to read palms whenever we had slumber parties, giggling and scaring each other until three or four in the morning. I wasn’t giggling now but I sure as hell was scared. Would he wake up from the coma? Would we be able to get married some day?

  Pushing those thoughts aside, I took another deep breath and turned my eyes again toward his face. He seemed so content. Had he been awake and aware of anything right after he’d been shot? I hoped not. I wouldn’t want to be cognizant of my surroundings, people crowding around trying to help, the sounds of a dozen voices shouting out directions, the wail of the ambulance, the fire engine’s siren, the burning agony of a bullet lodged in my body. I’d rather be incoherent than have to experience such a thing and hoped Edward hadn’t known what was going on.

  I leaned over the side rail and kissed him gently on his cheek then whispered how much I loved him, and I was here for him whenever he woke up. There were a million different opinions, both medical and personal, concerning whether or not a person in a coma can hear what’s being said to them. I’d read medical articles and true-life accounts in which people talked to individuals in a coma, read books to them, and generally treated them as if they were awake and listening to everything they were saying.

  Several people who woke up related stories of hearing what had been said to them, validating the opinion that speaking to comatose patients was not some ridiculous hocus-pocus.

  A nurse came in and told me my five minutes were up. How ludicrous—five minutes for each hour? That wasn’t enough time to help Edward in any significant way. How could I have time to read to him and talk to him if I only had five minutes an hour?

  Glaringly obvious was the fact I had a seven-month-old baby who needed me and hospital rules didn’t allow infants in the ICU. I couldn’t ask Stephanie to play mommy 24/7. She’d be taking additional classes soon and wouldn’t be available as often. If I had been single, with no child, I could stay by Edward’s side around the clock, but I quickly realized that wouldn’t work.

  It was terribly frustrating knowing I could help him by being there most of the day, but I had responsibilities I couldn’t hand over to someone else—a husband, or a friend, or Stephanie. I couldn’t ask Cecilia. She was taking care of Amylynn who was just a few month
s younger than Jessica. I had to triage my life, and my child came first.

  I walked back to the waiting room and found Cecilia on her cell phone. I gathered she was talking to Perry because she ended the call by saying, “I love you.”

  “Was that Perry?”

  “Yeah. There’s some kind of emergency. He has to get back to work. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course. In fact, I can’t stay either. I have a baby who needs me and I’ve got to go home. I’ll visit when I can, but they’ll only let me see him for five minutes each hour—for the first seventy-two hours, that is. Then I don’t know what the rules will be.”

  She looked at me, pensive, then patted me on the back. “You can only do so much, Brandy. I know you love him. But the hospital has rules for patients in a coma and it’s what they believe is best for their recovery. Like you said, you can’t sit here 24/7, even if you wanted to. Jessica needs you. You mustn’t feel guilty about putting her first. You’ll probably be able to visit him every day for a little while. And maybe later you can visit for longer periods of time. Stephanie could come over after classes and babysit. Just do what you can, accept it, and let the rest go.”

  I nodded, relieved she understood. “You’re right. I just feel bad, or maybe I feel guilty, for not being able to do what I think would help him. It’s so damn hard, putting him at the bottom of the totem pole. He won’t have anyone here with him. He’s all alone.”

  “He has you, Brandy. Do what you can, love him deeply, and let it go. Try to be positive, think good thoughts, believe he’ll get better. You can make a difference in your own way even though you can’t be by his side all day. For all you know he’ll come out of the coma and you’ll be setting a date for your wedding.”

  I smiled at her, thinking again how lucky I was to have her as my best friend. “Thanks, Cece. What would I do without you?”

  “You’ll be fine. Why don’t you come over to our house and have something to eat before you go home?”