I looked out the car windows, but I didn’t see anyone. The pain intensified, so I opened my door and got out. I waited a second to see what direction the feelings were coming from, when I heard a moan behind the bushes.
My knees almost buckled when I discovered the identity of the bruised and disheveled body hidden behind the shrubs.
“Phil,” I whispered as I knelt down and gently nudged him. His skin was cold and gray and his clothing torn. He had scratches, cuts and rows of crescent-shaped puncture marks on his neck and shoulder. And no matter how much I tried to wake him, he didn’t respond.
Oh Phil, please be okay.
For a second, I didn’t know what to do. I looked around for help, but no one was around. He needed to get to the hospital quick. I bent over and listened for a heart beat. When I heard his breath, slow and shallow, I was relieved. I tried my hardest to pick him up, but the dead weight of his body made it difficult to lift him. The only alternative was to wrap my arms around his torso and drag him to my car.
He moaned softly again.
“It’s okay Phil. I’m going to take you to the hospital.”
I laid him across the backseat and then covered him with my beach blanket. He started to shiver, taking in short, raspy breaths.
“Hang on Phil.”
I jumped in the front seat and drove like a maniac toward the hospital, checking my rearview mirror frequently to make sure he was still breathing.
“We are almost there Phil, hang on,” I kept telling him.
I rounded the corner and flew into the hospital parking lot and raced towards the emergency room entrance.
“Help me!” I yelled, as I flung open my door and sprinted around to open the back door showing my injured passenger. A guy in scrubs ran to the car, took Phil’s vitals and then another came with a stretcher. Soon a group of hospital staff surrounded my car, separating me from Phil.
“What happened?” a blonde woman with horn-rimmed glasses and pink scrubs asked me.
“I don’t know,” I said as they lifted him out of the car and placed him on the stretcher. “I just found him lying in the bushes like this.”
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” I heard another say. “Looks like it’s an animal attack.”
“Take him to room four.”
“What is your friend’s name sweetie?” The blonde woman asked, stepping in front of me, blocking my view.
“Phil,” I said, frantically looking over her shoulder, watching them wheel him through the double doors. I made a move to follow, but the woman stopped me.
“And what is your name, hun?”
“I’m Julia. Julia Parker.”
“Okay, Julia, we’ll take care of your friend, but you’ll need to wait in the waiting room until he’s stable,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. Her words were sincere, but on the inside, she didn’t care. She was the gatekeeper and it was her job to keep me away from the patient until they finished doing their job.
“What? I want to be with my friend.”
Her eyes were sympathetic, but it was all a façade. Really, she was annoyed, but not as annoyed as the security guard who was marching towards us.
“You can’t leave your car there,” he grunted, a little bit louder than necessary.
I looked at the nurse and ignored the guard, hoping she’d not really make me wait in the waiting room with all the untreated patients.
“Please. Don’t make me wait in there. I want to be with Phil. He has no one to support him,” I begged.
“I’ll come get you as soon as he can have visitors,” she said while giving my hand two nice pats. Nothing was going to break this ice queen. I clamped my mouth shut, wanting to say a few choice words but instead watched helplessly as she left me standing outside the double doors. I had to figure out another way to get inside and fast.
“Ma’am, you need to move your car,” the security guard snapped, his cigarette and stale coffee breath blown in my face.
“I heard you!” I snipped and spun around. “Gosh!”
I glared at him when I drove past, but he stood at attention with his smug smile.
Even before crossing the threshold of the emergency waiting room, I could feel the putrescent misery inside. The electric doors opened and shut as I waffled whether or not to go in. On the other side was agonizing suffering but I had no choice. For Phil’s sake, I had to endure it.
I held my breath before plunging myself into the air conditioned room and clutched my stomach for fear I’d get sick right in front of everyone. The arrangement was different than my local hospital. There was no desk inside, just a sign with a clipboard and instructions to fill out the form and put it in the slot on the door marked Triage which didn’t apply to me.
There was a different security guard standing in the corner by the only set of double doors leading out of the waiting room. I walked towards them and hoped maybe there was someone inside that could help me.
“Can I help you Miss?” the guard said and stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
“Oh… my friend is in there. I need to go see him.”
“Do you have a pass?” he grunted.
“No, but…”
“You can’t come in here without a pass. You’ll need to wait over there and I’ll get a staff person to assist you.” He pointed behind me. When I didn’t move, he became irritated. “Please, ma’am. Wait over there.”
I looked where he was pointing. There were already a few anxious faces waiting in a row of well worn chairs.
“You don’t understand–” I started to say.
“You need to wait over there, or you’ll have to be escorted out,” he said pointing more firmly.
I scowled, knowing I couldn’t win this showdown. He controlled the door to this ludicrous facility and could keep me from going inside if he really wanted. With a huff, I obeyed and walked over to the wall close to the chairs. I might have moved, but I wasn’t going to sit where he told me to.
I stood for five incredibly long minutes, but no one came through the doors. The guard stood straight-faced, telling the same thing to anyone who tried to come through the doors after me.
I was beginning to think I would have to torturously wait there forever when the doors finally opened and a nurse entered the room. She was ambushed by a group of people all explaining their situations at once. She silenced them and then motioned to someone who sat patiently in the chairs I was suppose to be sitting in and took them into the back. The others began to complain loudly, but the guard silenced them.
I started to pace. The feelings in the room were putting me on edge and I needed to focus to keep from freaking out.
I am here for Phil.
I am here for Phil.
I wanted to go outside and escape the slow painful suffocation, but was afraid I’d miss the heartless nurse in the pink scrubs who promised to get me. I looked around to find the source of all the discomfort I felt.
I noticed a little boy no older than seven in a wheel chair with his leg propped straight out and his side badly scratched. I felt the pain throbbing in his leg and was relieved to see them take him into the back room. It didn’t seem fair to have him endure that kind of pain for long. A woman in her mid-forties looked like she’d cut her hand, another feverish and nauseous, an ear ache, a sore throat. I moved closer to the disheveled bruised drunk who nursed a swollen wrist. At least his inebriated state numbed me a little.
But overall, I couldn’t keep straight who was feeling what and closed my eyes to block out the agony.
“Julia?”
I opened and locked eyes with the nurse in pink scrubs.
Hallelujah
“Yes?” I ran over to her.
“Come with me.”
I followed her through the doors, tempted to stick my tongue out at the security guard as we passed, but I felt his disdain. He really hated his job.
“How is he?” I asked.
“He’s stable now. We needed to transfuse h
im. He’d lost a lot of blood.”
I tried my hardest to listen to what she was saying, trying to keep a straight face as I felt new and awful ailments accompanied by hopelessness and despair. It seemed to get worse the further we walked down the sterile hall of the hospital.
“Is he awake?” I asked, attempting to keep my focus on the problem at hand.
“He’s awake, but not very coherent. We can’t get him to tell us what happened or where his family is. Do you know who we could contact?”
“I don’t know his parents.”
“Okay. We have his information from his wallet, so I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone soon.”
She led me to his room and opened the door. Phil sat up in bed, bandaged now, with his eyes open, but his head was turned towards the window overlooking the dimly illuminated parking lot. He had an IV in his arm and a monitor recording his erratic heartbeat. He still looked gray. The nurse left us alone.
“Phil?” I said quietly
He didn’t turn.
“Phil? You okay?” I walked around to the other side of his bed hoping his hearing wasn’t affected too.
His eyes were empty as he looked beyond me out into the night. Inside I mentally reached out to see what he was feeling and felt nothing. He was completely numb to me.
Then he blinked and looked directly into my eyes. The happy Phil I’d met earlier was gone, replaced by this empty shell. I looked closely at his blue eyes. They weren’t so blue anymore. Dark fluid was swirling around his irises. I fought back a gasp.
“Phil, what’s happening?” I said and grabbed his hand, leaning in for a closer look.
At my touch he pulled his hand away.
“I’m fine. What are you doing here?” he said, with a bitter tone.
“I brought you here, don’t you remember?”
He glanced down and glared at the IV taped to his hand then back at me. He blinked slowly and shot me a deadly look. I started to feel his hostility.
“What happened?” I said softly, as I backed away, trying not to irritate him further.
“Nothing happened and you should mind your own business. Did they send you in here to interrogate me?” he barked.
“No.”
“I really just want to be left alone,” he said, while loosening the tape on his hand.
“Okay, I can go. But can I call your parents and let them know you’re here?”
“No. Just go. GO!”
Suddenly feeling afraid for my life, I stepped back, tripped over the chair leg and stumbled out of the room. Something was seriously wrong and I sensed he was on the verge of freaking out. I looked for the nurse to warn her, but she wasn’t anywhere to be found.
In the room, the heart machine started beeping loudly. A staff person got up to investigate, but Phil, now dressed, stood in the doorway of his room. He pushed past me, not acknowledging my presence and ran down the hallway away from us.
“Sir. SIR!” the male nurse called after him.
Phil ignored him too.
Instinctively, I ran after Phil, but he disappeared in a blur. Once I reached the doors to exit the hospital, he was nowhere to be seen.
It was if he had vanished into thin air.
. . .
10 – DRAMA
All I wanted to do was escape school and be alone. And if stubborn Mrs. Hinney, the school secretary, would’ve given me Phil’s address, I would’ve ditched.
Instead, she gave me a lecture on student privacy and how she’d be breaking the law if she gave out student information without parental permission, blah, blah, blah. So, I returned to first period P.E. class, sat on the bleachers and watched the boys’ locker room door waiting for Phil to emerge.
With my jacket’s hood pulled over my head, elbows on my knees and my chin resting in my hands, I suddenly started feeling very sleepy. After finally falling asleep, I ended up reliving the same horrible nightmares again and woke at 2:20 a.m. unable to go back to sleep. Last night’s dream was particularly disturbing and involved me running from fanged creatures at the beach. I forced myself awake when one looked similar to Phil.
The locker room door flew open. I held my breath. False alarm. It was only Jordan. Where was Phil?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam staring at me with a frown. I’d been so wrapped up in waiting for Phil I didn’t notice the girls’ volleyball game. She took advantage of the moment when her team switched sides and ran over to talk to me.
“You okay?” she said, out of breath.
“No, actually. Something happened after you left last night–” I said quietly. “—with Phil.”
“Phil?”
A smile spread on her face. I could tell she got the wrong impression again.
“No, it’s not like that. Something bad,” I quickly said.
“Oh?”
“Come on Sam, let’s go,” the coach called out. “You can socialize after class.”
“I have to go play,” she said and made a face out of view of our teacher and moved to rejoin her team.
The class period droned on. Sam periodically exchanged worried glances with me and I knew the wait was killing her too. After the bell rang, I paced by the locker room door. Sam was the first to exit.
“So?” she asked half-worried, half-excited. “Tell me.”
I took a deep breath and caught her up to speed.
“He ran off?” she asked in astonishment.
“I was hoping he’d come to school today, but he’s not here.”
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Sam paled. “Where did he go?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. But something is wrong with him. He seriously acted almost possessed.”
An image of Phil’s face flashed through my mind. The animalistic fire in his eyes still frightened me and it reminded me of my nightmare.
Sam stood there, mouth open but speechless. I wanted to continue, but the second bell rang and we were now late for History.
Quickly we rushed through the door and took our seats. A messenger from the office spoke privately to Mr. Marshall and prevented him from noticing we were tardy. I took advantage of the moment and I opened my notebook to write Sam a note.
“Julia,” Mr. Marshall said abruptly.
I froze.
“Yes?” I said, my cheeks changing from pink to crimson.
I slowly shut my notebook and tried to look inconspicuous.
“You need to collect your things and go to the principal’s office.”
A low scolding murmur came from the other students.
“That’s enough,” he barked, dark eyes piercing over the top of his glasses.
The room grew quiet, but people still gawked at me. I glanced at Sam and she shrugged. So, I slid my books across my desk into my arm and tried to exit quietly. One of the books toppled off the stack and hit the floor with a loud thud. My cheeks flushed again. Some of the students giggled, but Mr. Marshall paid no attention and continued with his lecture. I graciously escaped.
My heart surged faster as I walked to the principal’s office. What did he want and why did he want to see me? No one knew about Phil yet, or did they? I rounded the corner and took a deep breath before approaching a frosty glass door with the name Principal Lyle Brewster in gold block lettering. I turned the door handle to let myself in.
Inside, Candy Stewart, the principal’s raven-haired, bombshell secretary sat at her desk in the lobby. It had been quite a while since I’d been called to this room and noticed he’d remodeled; again. She smiled when she saw me arrive.
“Hello, Julia,” she said sweetly through ruby red lips. “They’re waiting for you.”
They?
Candy stood up and moved around her desk, dressed in a tight, low-cut blouse and matching mini skirt. I found it ironic I was the one being called to the principal’s office for some sort of infraction when Candy’s outfit clearly violated the school’s dress code. I rolled my eyes and followed behind as her red high heels clicked against the tile
lobby floor.
My uneasiness rose the further we walked down the hall as I sensed an increasing ocean of worry and despair. I no longer felt intimidated by her beauty, only concerned for what lay on the other side of the door. Part of me wanted to run in the other direction as I watched Candy reach for the door knob and turn.
I was surprised to find my Dad staring back at me, along with two other adults I didn’t know in the room. I turned in confusion towards Mr. Brewster sitting behind his large mahogany desk.
“Come in Julia,” Mr. Brewster said, motioning for me to sit in an empty seat next to my Father.
“Dad?” I murmured, scared I was in huge trouble.
“It’s okay Julia. Jim and Beverly D’Elia just have some questions for you,” he said and patted my knee after I sat down, but he radiated an air of confusion and worry as well.
I hadn’t met the D’Elia’s before. They looked like Hollywood celebrities, dressed impeccably and strikingly attractive with white blonde hair and blue eyes. Their features were strangely familiar, but they both looked haggard, like they hadn’t slept in a week.
I smiled weakly, hoping it would help the situation but their stony expressions didn’t change.
Mr. Brewster sat back in his chair, his face grim. He put his finger tips together to form the shape of a diamond.
“Julia, as you may or may not know Phil didn’t come home last night. The D’Elia’s received a call from Mercy General telling them that you brought Phil to the emergency room. When they arrived at the hospital, Phil was no longer there. The staff reported that they saw the two of you leaving the hospital together. Do have any idea where he is?”
My eyes darted from Mr. Brewster to Phil’s parents now realizing why they’d looked so familiar. Phil bore a striking resemblance. But, then I saw the precarious situation I was in. They’d assumed I was somehow responsible for his disappearance.
“Actually, we didn’t leave together at all. He got upset and took off. I tried following after him, but by the time I got outside the hospital, he was gone. I don’t know where he went,” I said meekly.
Talisman 1 - The Emerald Talisman Page 11
