by Pam Richter
Robin stroked her hair, softly, murmuring how sorry he was. She didn't seem to be crying. They stood that way for a long time, with Julia resting her head against his chest. Robin didn't know what else to do. Actually there was nothing for him to do now, except be there if she needed anything. He silently waited, feeling her breathing against him, looking down into beautiful reddish gold hair which smelled wonderfully clean and fragrant. He felt sorry and sad for her, and guilty that he enjoyed holding her. She was incredibly fragile and soft at the same time. There was an overwhelming feeling that he would be glad to stay here, holding her like this, forever if she needed him. It wasn't mere pity. He wanted to protect her from the terrible ordeal she was going through.
Julia was glad Alexander had come so quickly. She had just taken one glance at the highly polished shoes and the pants that went with an expensive suit, heard him say her name, and went to him immediately. She felt comforted and a little surprised that Alexander wasn't talking. She was glad. Julia felt as though she could just stay here in his arms and go to sleep. She was exhausted from the emotional trauma and the sleepless night. The way he was softly stroking her hair was nice. She was finally able to feel tears on her cheeks, but she had to do her grieving alone in private, so she willfully stopped.
Even through all of the sadness and confusion, there was something different about Alexander that Julia did not understand. His feel was bulkier, somehow. His voice sounded strangely deep. And he was doing exactly the right thing for her, instead of the correct thing by society's standards, which Alexander always did excessively and to perfection. Normally, Alexander would be telling her how she felt, how this was a sad event in her life and how she would cope in the future.
Alexander was being perfect, right now, in his strength and in his silence and the way he stroked her hair.
Robin handed Julia a handkerchief and she took it and started dabbing at her eyes. She stepped back a little bit and looked up. She just stood there, gazing at him for a moment, as though all her thought processes had stopped. He could tell she was startled.
"Can I do anything?" Robin asked.
"I thought you were someone else," Julia said, stepping back. She had been expecting Alexander. Then she had hardly recognized the mechanic. It was the suit. He actually looked very nice. But she was appalled that she had walked right up to him, as though she needed to be comforted by a stranger. As she studied him she noticed that even his fingernails were clean and buffed.
"I was expecting a friend, and when you said my name..." Julia said.
"I'm here for you," Robin said sincerely. He wondered who the man was that she had been expecting. Someone she could lean on, so it was someone she knew well.
"You know what happened?" Julia asked. She looked like she might start crying. Her chin quivered and her eyes were filled with unshed tears.
Robin nodded. He felt he was looking into the depths of profound sadness. She reminded him of a hurt, sad puppy right now with her large wet eyes.
They started walking down the hallway and Julia stopped. "I don't think I can pass that room again."
"You don't have to," Robin said gently.
"Actually, I'm glad you were here. The surprise was a distraction. The suit and all. And I must thank you. For trying to help me feel better."
Robin knew Julia was speaking by rote, not even thinking, just behaving politely as her practically inborn social training dictated. "I was going to court today and got dressed up. I stopped at the service station to see your car. It will be a while before it's fixed. Can I take you anywhere?" He was trying to take her mind off of the recent event of her brother's death, knowing that nothing he said would register through the shock, anyway.
Julia stood there shaking her head. "It hurts so much and the pain hasn't even started. I don't think there's any other way to go, except down this hallway, past Brian's room, to the elevators."
"You're doing fine, Julia," Robin said, taking her arm gently. "We can go down the stairs, I think."
"Yes. I want to leave the hospital right now."
"There's a psychiatrist waiting to talk to you."
"I want to go," she said softly, with emphasis.
They had turned around to leave by the stairwell Exit sign down at the end of the long corridor, but suddenly there was a surprising amount of noise coming from the direction of Brian's room. They both turned. A whole group of people were standing outside the room. A doctor was yelling, a nurse almost in tears, shaking her head. Two orderlies were backing away from the doctor's wrath.
"That's Brian's doctor, the one yelling. Dr. Wilson," Julia said. She didn't much care. When she had seen him before, Dr. Wilson had been calm and steady. Definitely not the type to yell in hallways, upsetting a whole ward of seriously ill patients.
The woman from the nursing station had left her post to see what the commotion was about. As Julia and Robin watched, they saw her expression change to a look of horror when she went into the room with the doctor. Since the rooms had windows, Robin and Julia could see them examining the machinery by the bed.
Robin didn't want to leave Julia now. The shrouded figure of her brother was still on the bed, but if there had been some sort of lethal screw up, with the machines or by a hospital worker, he had to find out. Right this minute. If he didn't there would be a cover-up. Hospitals are extremely sensitive about mistakes. They would not openly admit there was one, after the fact. The hospital managers and lawyers would hem, haw and equivocate. Especially since Julia's brother had been in a life-or-death condition to begin with. Brian might easily have died from his injuries. If there was a malfunction of the machinery or human error Robin had to find out. Now. He was a lawyer and it was his business. Wrongful death. It was horrible, tragic, to contemplate.
"You go on down the hallway. Wait for me by the stairwell. I'll be back in a minute," Robin said. He turned Julia around and gave her a little push toward the stairs.
Julia turned back to Robin. "When I left the room, Brian had begun speaking. They didn't think he would be able to communicate at all, from the X-rays. You don't think...?"
"Go now. I'll find out," Robin said.
The hospital employees were so busy explaining to the doctor where they had been, and the fact that they had not been near that particular hospital room, that they didn't notice Robin hovering outside the doorway. Robin's snooping gleaned several facts. The oxygen tube had been detached from the ventilator. The machines in the room had stopped functioning for a time. He wondered how long Julia had been absent from the room. It sounded like someone had just pulled all the electrical plugs and then replaced them a few minutes later.
The woman who sat at the nursing station said she had seen an orderly go into the room, right after Julia left. But both of the orderlies on duty said they had been in a supply room down the hall. A nurse said she could vouch for the orderlies.
Who was the man who went into Brian's room alone?
No one could answer that question.
Robin had an awful premonition that this was not a mistake by a hospital worker or mechanical malfunction. This was deliberate sabotage, which had resulted in death.
That supposition made Robin wonder if the beating Brian received five days ago had really been random violence. His mind leaped at the shocking conclusion; more likely it had been a murder attempt, which had failed.
CHAPTER 6
As Robin stood eavesdropping outside Brian's room, he noticed another man coming rapidly down the corridor. He was well dressed, urbane and dignified with blond hair that was carefully styled to hide an incipient bald spot. Robin loathed him on sight.
The blond man was gazing at room numbers and he finally went into Brian's hospital room. Everyone quickly stopped talking when the newcomer entered.
Robin was sure this was the man Julia had mistaken him for. Now Dr. Wilson was shaking the blond man's hand. Robin understood, after a few moments, the way the two were talking that both were doctors.
Dr. Wilson explained to the newcomer that his patient, Brian Monay, had received several lethal blows to the cranium. He ushered the man quickly out of the hospital room to go see the chart.
The cover-up had already begun.
Robin wondered why the guy wasn't looking for Julia. He was going with Dr. Wilson to the nursing station, where they stood together, examining a chart.
Doctor Wilson took X-rays out of the chart and was holding them up to the light, pointing out areas for the other man to study. Evidently the blond guy couldn't see the X-rays well enough and he was ushered into a private room near the central nursing station.
Some nurses and other hospital workers were now staring suspiciously at Robin from inside Brian's room, probably wondering what he was doing, loitering outside in the corridor. He needed to fade the scene.
As he walked back toward Julia, Robin wished he had a camera. Dr. Wilson had taken Julia's doctor friend out of the room very quickly. The machines might still show some evidence that they had been tampered with. But there was nothing Robin could do. He certainly didn't have the expertise to understand if the machines had been interfered with by examining them himself.
As he saw the small, sad figure waiting down the hall, he thought he had been right to dislike the blond guy at first sight. The fact that he would talk to another doctor, before even trying to find Julia, proved to Robin that this man was very cold. In Robin's snap judgement he was an arrogant, pompous, self involved prick. Probably sporting an enormous God-complex since he was a physician.
Robin noticed that the psychiatrist, Dr. Silter, had come out of a doorway in the hallway and was looking around. Robin knew he wouldn't have much time to talk to Julia. But it was urgent. Dr. Silter would persuade Julia to speak to her for a few minutes, and then the blond guy would find her.
Robin practically sprinted down the hallway and he reached Julia first. He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to her.
"Julia, you should talk to the psychiatrist, Dr. Silter. She's coming over here right now. And the friend you mistook me for is here, now, too. But you must call me. I found out something you need to know. The hospital workers won't tell you. Even Brian's doctor won't tell."
Julia just stood there, studying his face. He hoped she was not in shock and would remember what he told her. "The most important thing to remember, is to tell no one, absolutely no one, that your brother spoke to you before his death."
"I don't understand." Julia whispered. "You're scaring me."
"Please Julia. I like you very much and I want you to be safe. I may be overreacting, but something's wrong. Please don't tell anyone that your brother was speaking to you. I know this is a hard time. But please do as I ask."
"Brian didn't talk to me. He was dreaming, talking in his sleep," Julia said. "I didn't understand anything he said. Except about the music. He heard the music." She smiled for one brief instant, and Brian felt his heart do a funny double thump. She was absolutely radiant with that brief, melting smile.
"Trust me," Robin urged. "Put the card in your purse."
"I did tell, though," Julia said as she slipped the card into her handbag. "I was so excited, I ran to the nursing station and told them."
Oh, hell, Robin thought. If Brian had been murdered, Julia could be in big trouble. "Tell them what you told me. That you didn't understand anything."
Julia was nodding. "I understood the words. He was speaking clearly. But I don't know what they meant." As she was telling him this, Julia wondered why she trusted this man. Maybe she was grasping at straws, or at anyone who was kind to her in these moments after her brother's death. But she also believed her instincts. Robin, the mechanic, could be trusted.
"I'll do as you say," Julia said, and she saw the amazing dimples for a moment. A very appealing man with his sincere blue eyes.
Dr. Silter had come up to them. She introduced herself to Julia. "Ms. Monay, I know this is a very sad time for you. On top of that you did not sleep at all last night. I could give you medication to help you relax."
Julia sighed, "I would give up my life...for five minutes with Brian. To say good-by."
"You gave him beautiful music. And flowers," Robin said. He thought he made a grave mistake. She looked like she might cry again. But the psychiatrist was nodding at him over her head.
"Mr. Chavier is right, Julia. I'm sure your brother knew you were there, caring for him at the end."
Robin nodded. "Your brother took that gift with him, Julia. You have my caring and sympathy, too. I hate to leave now, but I have a court appointment." He touched her shoulder and then turned and walked away.
Julia felt a strange, inexplicable sense of loss. She tried to focus on Dr. Silter, who was saying that the drug would help her rest, but Julia knew it wouldn't help. It might make her forget for a little while, but then the sledgehammer would drop, with double force, because when she came to, she would be horribly surprised once again by the awful realization that her brother had died. She knew all about mourning. She had done it at a much younger age, when her parents had died. The only dubiously good thing about it is that you did survive, even if you didn't want to at the time, and the pain dulled after a while. In Julia's experience it never went entirely away.
Julia turned around, to look down the corridor for a moment. Robin had also stopped to look back at her. He mouthed, Call me, and then someone was rushing past him, toward her, and Julia lost sight of Robin.
It was Alexander, hurrying down the corridor and blocking her view of the mechanic, whose kind words were still echoing in her mind. She didn't want to see Alexander. One of the main reason's she had come to California was to get away from him for a while, in the hope that he would find someone else. When he was around she felt she was suffocating from excessive and well-bred niceness, respectability and stupendous boredom. Everyone she knew seemed to push her toward him, told her how wonderful he was, and she had gone along with a relationship that she knew was wrong from the start. Her grandmother, Charlotte, thought Alexander was a saint walking the earth. And he was nice, she reminded herself. Nice for a friend.
When he reached her, Alexander did all the things she knew he would do. After a while Julia pushed him away. He was hugging her too tightly and treating her like a two year old. She resented it. Alexander had been telling her how to think, how to behave, and that this was hurting very badly, but that it would all go away in time. Julia knew it wouldn't go away. She needed to be alone and examine the fact of her brother's death so that it would finally sink into her mind and the pain could be experienced. He wouldn't let her do that with his incessant talking. He was insisting that she come with him right now; she needed to rest and she needed to eat. The thought of food made her feel like throwing up.
The rest of the day was a nightmare. Julia's grandmother, Charlotte, arrived and almost collapsed when she got the news of Brian's death. Normally a bastion of robust strength, she suddenly seemed old and frail.
Julia had thought she could rely on her grandmother, but she found herself making all the arrangements for her brother's transfer to Boston, where the funeral would be held in three days, because Charlotte was immobilized by the death of her dead daughter's son. He had been her favorite and Charlotte had doted on Brian. Now she was so grief stricken that Julia was very worried.
There was nothing left in California for any of them. Alexander made arrangements for a flight back to Boston that evening. Julia and Charlotte went to LAX with him, to see him off. Julia wanted to stay in her room at the Beverly Hills Hotel by herself, but Charlotte insisted that since Alexander had been kind enough to come all this way for them, the least they could do was send him off, back to Boston.
Alexander had to give her a long kiss before he left, in the crowded terminal where a mob was waiting to board the airliner to Boston. It was too wet and took an awfully long time for Alexander to complete. She felt like wiping off her mouth after he finished. The feel of his lips was like a wet slab
of beef on her face. She was so revolted she almost gagged.
Julia was embarrassed by the kiss and glanced at Charlotte, only to see her gazing at them with beneficent approval.
After Alexander's plane finally took off, Julia took the opportunity to make arrangements for a flight back to Boston for herself and Charlotte the following day.
When she got to her room at the Beverly Hills Hotel, Julia was so tired she collapsed on the bed, without taking off her clothing, and was immediately asleep.
The next morning, when she rolled over and found herself on top of the covers, instead of inside them, with all of her clothes on, she finally started reacting to her emotions. Yesterday she had faced the fact of death, but had not experienced it. Now the real mourning began.
She took off yesterdays wrinkled clothes. Everything seemed difficult. It was laborious even to move and she was so depressed she couldn't see any sense in going on. In the shower, as she felt the water flow over her, uncontrollable bitter tears coursed down her cheeks. Showers are a good place for crying. She couldn't stop so she sat down naked on the porcelain, with the jets of water pounding on her head and cried for an hour or longer.
Julia wished her car was fixed and ready to drive. Alone in a car is a good time to cry, also. She could have cried herself all the way back to Boston. Now though, she would have to make arrangements for the car to be sent home when it was fixed.
The thoughts of her car led to reflections about the mechanic, Robin. She liked him a lot, but Julia decided not to call him. If there was something wrong about Brian's death, it was totally irrelevant now. Nothing could bring him back. If there had been a mistake that had hastened his death she would rather not know. It would just make her more sad and angry. Best to let it all go and deal with the overwhelming sadness of a life without her brother.
